#space geezers

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Simply because Emerald wishes to see the future,

she and the Inspector end up on what seems like an abandoned space station … which turns out to be home to a bunch of doddering pensionsers.

[todayisafridaynight]

i solemnly swear not to write a fic with a similar premise as one ive done in the past but also i like it when people slow dance.....

[spreadtunes22]

End Of The Beginning

[ngeruma]

"Rainbow Space Mansion" | Perpetual Testing #274

By Geezer

An unusual take on portal puzzles where we need to consider colour and position to make the necessary connections whilst using the inbuilt teleportation system to get around an entirely new test facility created by and eccentric trillionaire, in space, …for some reason. I’d say for the view more than anything, but hey what do I know.

Full Video

More Test Chambers

[spacelazarwolf]

Sorry but it’s true, I’ve never met a person over 30 who wasn’t weird and creepy. Young people deserve a safe space away from that

killing myself on the eve of my 30th birthday lest i become a cringe and uncool geezer who is unrelatable to the youths.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: In Which Gojo Satoru Commits Regicide.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 0.7k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Off-Screen Violence. I Am Coping, But I Am Also Pissed. Be Patient, I Beg of You.

Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

You’d been a little confused when Satoru came home uncharacteristically giddy in spite of the bitingly cold February weather, and a little more than confused when he said he had something to show you, took you by the arm, and teleported you out of your apartment entirely (after waiting for you to give your clear and enthusiastic consent, of course). You had no idea where he was taking you, but it only took a single second of whipping your head in either direction, a single glimpse of those awful bright yellow curtains and tacky eagle rug, to know where you were.

“Satoru,” you gasped, and his grin widened. “Is this the oval office?”

“The one and only.” His voice was low and smug, his tone more than enough to prove that he already knew you like your surprise. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he swept the content the presidential desk in the floor with his free hand and lifted you onto its outer edge, placing himself in the space between your open legs as if brought there by a gravitational pull. You draped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss as sweet as apple pie, or funnel cake, or other true symbols of American culture that were formed through a broad, grassroot endearment rather than a bunch of gross old men deciding they’d look cool on a flag three-hundred years ago.

Reminded of gross old men, you pulled away with another sharp gasp. “But, ‘toru, what if he catches us?”

You had no problem with getting your back blown out by your loving boyfriend in one of the most sacred rooms in the United States, but if that lead-paint poisoned geezer happened to walk in (if he even could walk on his own, anymore), it’d totally ruin the mood. Satoru only laughed. “Don’t worry, baby,” And then, flashing you a quick wink, “I made sure to clear the place out for us.”

“Satoru, you didn’t!”

“Guess some fascists just can’t handle their blunt force damage,” he said, shrugging. Suddenly, your expression dropped, and Satoru noticed right away. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Well, it’s not that the racist, senile felon didn’t deserve to have his skull caved in by a bisexual transgender man – since, y’know, we’re both bisexual and transgender.” Satoru nodded, affirming the fact that you two were similarly transgender and also bisexual, which you were. “It’s just – now that misogynistic white supremacist who jerks off to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale every night before fucking his couch is going to be president, and that that kind of sucks too.”

“James David Vance?”  Satoru asked, refusing to use his initially and therefore highlighting how stupidly pretentious his name was. “You think too little of me, sweetheart.”

Possibly for the third time, you gasped. “Is he…?”

“Mhm. Took care of him right before I came home, got him right as he was coming out of his filler appointment. Beat him to death with a copy of his own book and everything, after leaving it a one-star review on Goodreads, of course.” Again, he shrugged, but smile gave away his self-satisfaction. “It’s all in a day’s work for the world’s strongest and most politically active sorcerer, I guess.”

“But, if that pathetic old man and his castrated lapdog are both dead, then who’s the president?”

“Check the news, baby.”

You fished your phone out of your pocket as Satoru sucked hickeys into your neck, obviously waiting until he had your full attention to go further. Again, you gasped. You were starting to lose count of how many times that’d happened, so far. “Abortions and insulin are provided upon request and also free now?!”

“Oh, wait, are they?” You turned your screen in his direction, and Satoru hummed in approval. Everyone’s quality of life had gotten a lot better since your good friend, Nanami Kento, was placed onto the Supreme Court in the final days of Biden’s term. “Sick. Not what I was talking about, though – scroll down.”

You scrolled down, and gasped once more. Your throat was starting to hurt. “Everyone in the country’s unanimously ellected the first female president?”

“Not just any female president,” he said, smirking and tapping on a trust-worthy article from a reliable and non-partisan source. “Say her name for me, baby.”

The final gasp you gaspt was the loudest and most gasp-like of all.

“Hatsune Miku?!”

[apollos-boyfriend]

the worst part is he’s literally one of the nicest sweetest kids i know and fully meant it without any malice or spite in his heart but also goddamn little buddy you’re gonna kill someone with your words one of these days

i’m gonna cry my mom and brother were talking about those like apple vision glasses (my brother’s a big tech bro) and my mom brought up her concern over the lack of human connection and isolation widespread use of those could cause, only for my little cousin (the 9 year old) to go, “it’s okay auntie! by the time those become popular, you’ll be dead!”

[pricegouge]

Haul

Part Three MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: noncon nudity, noncon touching, graphic depiction of injuries

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.   If you survive this indeed, though.

You count distance in the taste of fabric on your tongue. As hours and miles pass, the cotton fades from heavy copper, to salt-lick piquant. The trailer heats with the rising sun, metal hull hotboxing you in. The tight space you're kept in is padded, probably for sound proofing though you're almost grateful for it, given how it prevents you from burning yourself on the corrugated siding.

It's hard to guess how much time passes. It feels like days, but the trailer does not go through a cooling cycle, nor do you die of dehydration, so you assume only a handful of hours pass. You spend them drifting in and out of consciousness, wishing you had enough wherewithal to try escaping. Unfortunately, with the heat and the dark comes exhaustion, and with the adrenaline crash comes intense pain so you do little more than catalog injuries when you can concentrate enough to do so. 

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.  

If you survive this indeed, though.

Poor Ash. She may have been a pain in the ass, but no one deserves to go out like that. It's hard to stop the tears when you think of her but you try anyway, knowing full well that further inflaming your face isn't going to do anyone any good. You wonder why they kept you alive - why Ash didn't make the cut. Or, did, you suppose. Maybe they felt two victims would have been too difficult to deal with. Maybe they thought Ash, who was still able to get around quite well, would've been too much of a handful. 

Maybe you're trying to reason with hurricane season, as it were, find rationality where there was none. These men were motivated by something you'd never understand and perhaps it was best not to waste your efforts on it. Still, it's hard to move past Simon and Gaz's brief exchange. 

'For cap?'

'For all of us.'

The thought of being shared by them made your stomach turn, but the thought that there was another one - one they evidently often brought victims back home to - that was even worse.

'Captain,' you sneer. You can't help but picture some old geezer who couldn't pull his own victims anymore; real Texas Chainsaw shit. The boys would probably have to hold you down so he could wax poetic at you about what a good hauler he used to be, help him lift a tire iron so he could get his rocks off. It would be enough to make you laugh, if it didn't feel like the tire iron was already whaling on you.

Still, you suppose knowing your fate lies with an old man and his lackeys is better than the alternative; even in your current state you know a truck with a soundproofed false back generally spells human trafficking for anyone with the misfortune to find themselves stuck in one. Your prospect doesn't make you happy by any means, but you suppose the enemy you know is better. Even if that enemy is a group of known killers. 

It's not too long after the trailer starts to cool that the quality of the roads changes; long, smooth interstate giving way to potholed, winding highway. You grit your teeth each time you're jostled, groan every time you remember your jaw is actually your biggest source of pain. 

The passiveness with which you wonder about our whereabouts surprises you, but you're so exhausted you don't hold yourself too accountable for that. It's not until the truck slows to a stop that you sit up straighter, heartbeat hammering when the back up alarm confirms your fears that you have arrived at your destination. They let you sit for a while after. Long enough to get cold. There's the occasional sound of air brakes firing and you figure you're in some sort of lot. You try yelling for help a few times, but between the gag in your mouth and the soundproofing around you, your cries go unanswered.

At least you hope that's the reason. Otherwise this entire lot is filled with people who are in on this potential trafficking ring and Simon's words echo even more ominously in your ears. 

A quiet rattling form the end of the trailer tells you when they open the doors hours later. The truck engine roars to life seconds after, backing up the final few feet necessary to slam into the loading dock hard enough to make a gruff voice from within yell. 

It's unfamiliar, makes you steady yourself harder against the unknown quality of it. You figure this must be Cap, feel some small sense of satisfaction when the old, ragged voice matches what you'd pictured. You listen intently as pallets are cleared away, the loud clatter of the jack ringing even through your soundproofing. There's a lower murmur of laughter, the boys regaling the older man with a story you can't quite hear but can definitely infer. When the truck is fully unloaded, their heavy boots tread the short runway - Johnny's truck, then; you'd wondered who you'd been riding with -, their voices coming clearer as they draw near. 

"- banged up, but mostly from the crash," you hear Simon rumble. 

Johnny's next, his grating brogue echoing within the trailer, "Well, except her nose. We can thank Gaz for that one."

"She can thank herself for it," Gaz snarks back, and you would bite your tongue if you could. There's a beat of silence. You can almost feel the heavy gaze their silent captain turns on Gaz, prompting him to elaborate, "She ran. Not very fast. When I caught up, she tried bite me so I headbutted her a little."

"A little!?" Johnny cries, but is cut off by a gruff scoff.

"No way to treat our new guest, Kyle. Go on, make it up to her. Bring her out here."

You expect something dramatic, like a flood of blinding light or strong hands reaching in to yank you out. Instead, when the panel is pulled back, the indirect light from the building is mostly blocked by the row of bodies in front of you, and Gaz squats off to the side, body language friendly and inviting despite the coldness you can feel radiating from him. This man hates you, you can feel it. You remember how he wanted to kill you, wish you could tell him the feeling was mutual. Rather, you stare at him loathingly until he tires of your inaction, leans in to grab you by the zip ties that bind your feet and cuts them with a knife you didn't even see him pull. When he grabs your wrists and pulls, you resist as much as you're able but in the end you're no match and he pulls you from your hideaway with little more than a grunt of pain and annoyance when you elbow him in the ribs.

"Feisty one, is she?" the captain's low growl observes and you turn to the newcomer with fury in your eyes which stalls out when you take him in properly for the first time.

You're disappointed to discover he's not as old as you'd been expecting. Nowhere near, in fact. Mid forties most likely, early fifties at absolute most. And densely built enough to speak of a physicality far younger. None of them were small, but the captain still managed to look big among them - nearly as tall as Simon and just as broad as Johnny, though it looked a little leaner on him given his height. You think the worst part about him is how genial he looks. Like Gaz, he's a brand of handsome that comes with charm and approachability, and you wonder how long it will take for that facade to crack like Gaz's did. Worse, if it ever will.

Certainly, his voice is disarmingly sweet when he greets you, coos and calls you a dove. "Weren't lying were they, love? Did a number on the poor girl, Ghost."

Simon - Ghost? - grunts in acknowledgement, motions for you to step closer. You don't, of course, and get a sharp shove from Gaz which sends you stumbling toward the larger men, caught by a firm hand on your bad shoulder. You yelp, breath heaving behind your gag as Cap adjusts his grip, studying you by your hip instead as his eyes dart to Simon.

"Shoulder. Maybe collar bone. Happened when she flipped her car." When you flipped it. Right.

The older man tuts dissapprovingly. You try to swat his hands away but stumble without his support. He ignores you anyway, hand returning easily while the other reaches up to carefully grip the edge of the duct tape. "Can't be easy to breathe in there, can it doll? Not with that poor nose. Let's get this off, shall we? Easy," he soothes, voice a low pur. His task hurts like hell anyway, the sticky strip pulling your tender, swollen skin. He's gentle about it at least, murmuring sympathetically when you can't contain your whimpers. You don't judge yourself too harshly when a few tears slip through, but do very much so when his thumbing them away twists your stomach unexpectedly. 

It's just because you haven't seen tenderness all night, you reason, and resolve yourself against him, even as he removes the gag with utmost delicacy.

"That better, dove?" he asks when your breaths come quicker, deeper. It's like resurfacing after being submerged for too long, clarity coming to you like a cold breeze on soaked skin: this is a calm meant to put you at ease, but you will die here if you become complacent.

So when Cap tells you to call him John and asks what your name is, you spit at him, blood and mucus staining his shoes.

The boys go quiet, like a record scratch moment in an old b-movie. You stare up at John defiantly, waiting for him to scream at you, hit you - anything.

Instead, he just pulls a pocket knife from his pants, grabs your bindings when you go to flinch away. "You've had a long day, love," he starts as he slips the thin blade between your wrists. Your skin is tender there, rubbed raw from the tight binds. The cool blade feels sharp despite the care he takes to aim the edge away from you, never once letting it touch your skin. "You've had a long day, so I'm going to let you get away with that this time." When he pulls against the zip ties, they cut into your skin briefly before giving with a sharp twang. He pulls one of your wrists into his free hand, rubs the raw skin there with a calloused palm before taking the other wrist in his grasp and giving it the same treatment. "But the next time you misbehave will not go well for you. Understood?"

Of course, you don't listen. Fuck this guy for real, you figure. What's the worst he can do? Kill you?

This time, when you go to spit at him, he catches it against his palm, wide hand slapping over your mouth so hard you're breifly concerned for your good cheek. You gasp in shock and pain, nearly choking on your own spit. John steps closer, one boot knocking your foot wide to let himself between your legs. He's so close, if he moved his palm you'd be breathing the same air.

As it stands, you can barely breathe at all, nose flush against the fat side of his hand. His own breath fans across your skin, heavy and hot as a bellows. The quality of it is thick, humid. You're glad you can't smell anything because it feels like it reeks. 

"Simon, she give you a name?"

Ghost's uncomfortable movement is obvious in its silence. "Took to calling 'er Betty."

"Betty," John repeats, lips curling in amusement. "Like an old timey, proper little wife. That you, pet?" You wanna shake your head, fear for your sinus cavity if you do. "Not yet, eh? Gonna have to train you up first. Ease you into it." As if in demonstration, his body sags into your own, presence oppressive. "That's okay, pet. We'll start you off easy. Get you nice and clean, get you fed. In the morning, Kyle will help with your injuries and when you feel more like a proper lady, we'll try again, hm?"

You can't say anything, so you don't.

"But in the meantime, I can't let that kind of behavior go unchecked. Boys," he calls, eyes still boring into you. "Which one of you wants to help our guest clean up?"

The general din of excitement makes you flinch, eyes going wide as if pleading with the man who holds you so cruelly will do any good. When Johnny suggests they play rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honors, it's suddenly, belatedly clear to you that your murder would almost be a kindness. No, the worst thing this man could do for you would be to keep you. John sees it the moment you realize this. His grip eases, eyes softening in some gross perversion of kindness. He strokes your cheek soothingly when Simon goes out in the first round, smiles condescendingly when you flinch at Johnny's crow of victory. John tuts at you, but says no more as he turns you toward the Scot.

"All yours, Soap," he rumbles, pushing you not ungently toward the other man. "Spic and span, you hear?"

"Aye, sir. Thank ye, sir." Johnny's hands are much harsher than John's when he guides you from the trailer, giving you no sympathy when you flinch under the harsh warehouse lighting. You try to take stock of your surroundings as you're pulled along: spare, dusty racking; a forklift in need of repair. There are multiple loading docks, most of the viewports obscured by backed up trucks. One sits vacant and you briefly wonder if there's even more of these monsters waiting in the wings before you're pulled past a dank little office. You catch sight of outdated equipment - a rolodex, a CB - but it's the shadow boxes full of military honors that your eyes lock on the longest.

Of fucking course.

The door Johnny leads you out through is tucked off the side of the building. You stumble when he pulls you down through the door, feet unsteady where they kick up dirt. It's cold outside, colder than it had been in the dankness of the trailer. You can't help but shiver, bite your tongue as best you can when your companion takes that as invitation to draw you in close and rub a big, solid hand up your arm. 

"We'll have ye warmed up in no time, lass," he promises, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. This man murdered your friend with a crowbar and dragged her around like a slaughtered animal. You expect no kindness from him. 

He orders you to strip before turning to a small station built into the side of the warehouse. You do not strip, electing instead to take off running in the opposite direction, cursing as the gravel churns loudly under your shoes. Soap swears, his own heavy boots following at a pace you didn't think his burly body capable of. Your breaths burn your chest, each pull coming labored in your blind panic but you refuse to slow or relent, ignoring the flaming pain in your shoulder every time you swing your arm forward for propulsion.

Well, you ignore it until the ground comes tilting up to meet you, your body crushed beneath the considerable weight of one grunting, cursing Scot. You sob at the pain, or maybe the fear - hard to tell. When he levers himself off you, he wastes no time grabbing your ankle as he stands up, towering over you. If you were capable of stringing two thoughts together, you'd wonder if this was the last thing Ash saw: pale blue eyes gleaming in the low light, the cruelty that twists his face. Instead you wonder how likely your arm is to maintain full mobility after a night like this. 

Not very, you decide, sobbing in pain as he drags you back to the warehouse. He's muttering something above you, but you can't hear him over your own cries. When you kick at him futilely, he yanks on your ankle until you fear for it and you don't try it again. Not even when he gets you where he wants you, back under the wan outdoor lighting of the station he'd turned to before, crouching down next to you to rip at your shoelaces.

"Please, don't," you murmur instead, fear churning in your belly as he continues to strip you. You'd known it would come to this, known the moment the captain had mentioned something about a wife. It doesn't make it easier, doesn't make the prospect of the gritty sand underneath you any more comfortable, or your repulsion for the man above you any less sharp. "Please, please, please let me go. I could -."

"What? Suck me off?" Soap laughs harshly, "Think ah'm gonnae ge' tha' anyway, hen."

You were going to say keep your mouth shut, but you suppose that never works anyway.

The sound you make when he pulls your pants off is wretched, but the shriek he earns when he pulls a knife on you is worse. His laugh is mean, reveling in your fear for a moment before cutting your shirt from you with one deft movement. He's pulling you to your feet before you can really process why and shoving you against the metal siding of the warehouse.

"Stay there," he warns and you're unsure if his tone or the throb in your shoulder is a more effective threat. When he walks back toward the station he'd been after earlier, your gaze turns to follow until you catch sight of your own shoulder at the bottom of your field of view and you draw short, taking in the severe swelling there. You prod at the edges of the mottling, wincing at your own ministrations. 

Absorbed in your own injuries, you don't notice when Soap turns on the spigot, or when he aims the nozzle of the high pressure hose at you. He calls for you to hold your breath, but gives you no more time than that which is necessary to look up, confused, before he's spraying you down.

It's freezing, the flow hard enough to bruise where it jets against the fatty bits of you; feels like it might sheer straight through hide where your skin thins around joints. You gasp, get a mouthful of aerated hose water. Spluttering, you try blocking the stream with your hands despite it feeling like your palms are being struck by a thousand rulers.

"S'wha' we use tae wash the trucks!" Soap calls, cackling loud enough to be heard over the spray that engulfs you. You can't get away from it no matter how much you fold into yourself, catching the jet alternatingly on your hip, your ribs, your ass. It does a better job of indexing your injuries than you did, the blooms of pain where you accidentally turn a bruise toward it letting you know that the hip which took the brunt of the collision is sore, that there's a spot on your good shoulder where Gaz tackled you which smarts. Your knees and elbows are all scuffed up, dirt grinding in before being stripped away. You feel like you're being sandpapered down; buffed until you're gleaming despite knowing how the dirt he kicks up clings to your skin wherever the hose isn't actively being pointed.

Soap keeps it up for another minute or so, only turning it off when your shaking gets so bad you think you're like to fall apart. "Quit yer whinging," he warns, creeping closer as he adjusts the nozzle to another setting. "Jes' havin' a laugh, bonnie, no need tae get all bent outta shape."

You want to tell him you're not laughing, but a small voice in your head says you should be grateful he didn't turn that hose on your face, so you keep quiet to prevent him getting any ideas.

When he's close enough to touch, Soap reaches out and grabs your wrist, spraying your pebbled skin down with a softer shower of water that would set you at ease, if not for how cold it is. From your arm, the stream moves up over your head, mussing your hair beyond recognition before trickling down your battered face. Here, the cold water feels good against heated skin and despite yourself, you heave a sigh of relief, tilting slightly into the unexpected relief. 

"Like tha' hen?" he asks, and you hesitate briefly, wondering how much satisfaction you want to give him. He doesn't give you a chance to decide, ruining your brief moment of reprieve by reaching out and tweaking one hard nipple.

You squawk, swatting at him. Johnny laughs long and loud, letting the stream from the hose fall dead as he watches you fume, shaking.

"Look like one ah them wee doggies, lass," he chuckles, "angry cause ye cannae even bite properly." The bastard flicks your cheek, feigning a sympathetic coo when you flinch away. "Tha's righ', bonnie, nothin' ye can do tae fight back," he murmurs, gliding his fingertips against your cheek in a move he probably thinks is soothing. "Ye jes' remember tha', eh? Might keep you alive."

You swallow back the lump in your throat, eyes boring a hole into his shoulder because you can't stand to look him in his terribly cold eyes. When Johnny moves again, his touches are back to the easy, soft caresses from before as he hoses you down. He's surprisingly good at it, despite being armed with only a shammy and a gnarly looking bar of soap. At least he knows to avoid your hair once he realizes he'll need conditioner. That damage is already done, but you appreciate him not dragging his fucking fingers through it on top of everything else. You try taking the soap from him once but he just tuts at you warningly so you go back to shivering, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve body heat and keep yourself marginally modest. You can't decide if he's being obstinately particular just to torment you longer or if he's genuinely just like this until he raises your good arm above your head and finds your armpit overgrown.

He grins, sending you a delightfully scandalized look. "See Ghost chose well. Cap's gonnae love ye," he chuckles, and you feel your panic heighten when you think of the threatening older man again. Soap notices. "No need tae worry, hen. You jes' keep bein' good fer us and Cap'll be good tae ye."

For some reason, you don't trust this man's definition of being treated well.

After getting you all washed up, Johnny marches you back into the warehouse where the other men gather around a small, dingy breakroom table pecking at microwaved burritos. They're laughing uproariously as you arrive, Gaz talking animatedly about a loading mishap back in Arizona. The noise drifts off when they spot you, eying you over like a scrap of meat. There's no covering everything and despite yourself, you're almost grateful when John stands, bringing you a blanket he had folded on the seat beside himself. 

"Feeling better, doll?" he asks, patting you dry with a gentleness you didn't expect from the big man. He frowns at the swelling of your shoulder, eyes darting between you and it with an exaggerated level of concern that makes you want to hurl.

You avoid his gaze, your own flickering around the room as you ignore John, trying to gather your resolve enough to appease him. It's a struggle until your eyes find Simon's, apathetic as always despite the disapproving set of his scarred mouth. 

"Yes, sir," you murmur, watching raptly as Simon disguises a quick nod as a glance at his plate. Your heart rate picks up, an impossible tendril of hope slithering up your aorta when John hums contentedly at your words.

"That's a girl, love," he starts, warm palm falling heavy on your back as he starts to guide you back through the warehouse. "Gaz, bring the soup. You're hungry, right pet?"

You are, but Gaz doesn't wait for confirmation, falling in stride as John guides you toward the quaint office you'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

"Now, one day, you'll be able to stay up here with us," John promises, gesturing magnanimously across the dingy warehouse as if it contained all the gold of El Dorado within its rickety racking. "But until then, we're going to have to keep you below." 

Gait faltering, you glance up at the older man fearfully but he pays you no mind at all. "Don't worry honey, only temporary. And I'll have the boys visit you daily to keep you nice and stimulated, hm? Gaz," he barks before you can reflect too much on his choice of words. Kyle, evidently knowing exactly what's expected of him, places the soup bowl he's been carrying on the cluttered desk before moving some chairs, rolling the rug back enough to reveal a cutaway door in the cement slab.

You still, every muscle in your body tensing up when John tries to coax you along. "'S'not so bad, sweetheart, I promise. Come look, yeah? Think you'll have a nice little time if you just give it a try."

Like hell you'll give it a try, knees locking up so tight you look like a GI Joe when John guides you first down the stairs. It's cool, the descent marked by the wet gradient of the cement slab as you pass further underground. It's deeper than you'd expect, the dug dirt bottom damp under your feet when you alight on the landing. There's a short hall ahead, braced by rotted-looking timber. A lone door on the opposite end, braced on one side with a long line of bolts and locks. A single light hangs from the short ceiling, low enough you could smack your forehead off of it if you're not careful. 

"Had Simon come down while you were out, get it nice and ready for you," John brags. You doubt the room on the other side of that door could be made live-in ready even if Simon had been given three years to work on it, but you know better than to say as much. 

This time, when John prods you forward, your legs don't obey. "CanIsleepwithyou?" you blurt, a last ditch effort you're not sure you want him to accept.

But John just chuckles. "Eager, eh pet? Don't worry, you'll earn that right soon enough. Now go on, I'm sure you'd like some nice new clothes to put on, hm?"

Damn him, but you do, so you slink forward, ducking under the hanging light as you pass. The door creaks when you pull it open, weight heavy despite how meager it looks. It feels solid, unbreakable, and you notice quickly that you won't be able to barricade it if you have to pull it open. John does not notice your hesitance, following you into the room with a proud little smirk on his mustached face.

"Well, what do you think?" 

Not much. The floor isn't finished, just cold tile pressed into the dirt. The walls and ceilings are, though, and you briefly feel grateful for it until the batting on the door registers and you realize it's for soundproofing purposes. There's a bed in the corner, larger than you need yourself and made up in cutesy sheets with a strawberry motif. A pile of heavy quilts sits folded at the foot and despite yourself, your fingers twitch eagerly at the prospect of sleeping soon, warm and snug under all that weight. 

"We've got some clothes for you here," John continues. You get the feeling he doesn't need a lot of input so you stand there quietly as he opens a foot locker for you, tattered and olive green. Inside sit two neat stacks of clothes, battered looking but approximately the right size. You remember Johnny's comment about the Captain liking your pits and wonder if they always bring him back a certain type.

And if so, where they are.

"G'on love, pick out something you like," John leers, and you realize you won't be able to get away with waiting until he and Kyle leave to get dressed. 

There's a marked efficiency to your movements. Grabbing the first top you see, you briefly check the tag before doing the same with the bottoms at the top of the pile. Close enough for rock and roll, you figure, dropping your blanket to the cold floor and pulling the clothes onto yourself as quickly as possible. Kyle's eyes are heavy, John's heavier. Your skin crawls, the goosebumps which never really went away after your little bath returning with a vengeance. To your immense displeasure, John has to help you pull your bad arm through the sleeve and he tuts sympathetically when you whine.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll bring you down some button ups tomorrow, yeah? You nod when he pauses too long, realizing you're not going to be let off the hook without a proper answer. You creep toward the bed when he hums in acknowledgement, but he tuts in warning again, nodding toward a little desk shoved off to the side of the room. You sit obediently, thanking him with a little murmur when he ferries the bowl of soup from Gaz to you. He hovers, watching raptly until you bring a spoonful of the room temperature meal to your mouth. 

"Good, right?" he asks, before you can even get a proper taste of it. 

You take your time swallowing, playing up the pain in your cheek as you try to suss out a good response. It's just microwaved soup as far as you can tell, but you figure saying as much won't garner you any favors. Instead, you hum appreciatively and shovel in another bite before John can ask you any more questions.

It works, mostly. John takes a quick lap around the room instead of standing over you, sighing now and again at whatever he finds while Gaz continues to stand in the doorway, evidently unamused. 

"It needs work, I'll give you that," John eventually concedes as you slurp at your meal. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until that sweet sweet MSG hit your tongue. "It needs work, but if you're good, we can spend some time down here fixing it up for you. Would you like that?"

You stall, spooning through some of the chunkier bits at the bottom of your bowl. It was kind of them to give you soup, you registered belatedly. Solid foods would have undoubtedly fucked up your mouth. Instead of answering, you ask John what would happen if you were to be bad and watch as his genial nature flips like a switch.

"Got a couple of news articles upstairs if you'd like to read 'em and find out."

Next>>

[lesbomaticlove]

watched deadpool and wolverine and it inevitably had me thinking about these two idiots.

(inspo from this piece by thomas horndof)

spoilers for said movie below the cut among my au musings

Sanji as Deadpool -

I thought, rather than having cancer and going through 'experimental treatments', Sanji would have been made a mutant along with his brothers, basically just the way they are in canon. Sora would have tried to stop it, because she knew Judge's goal was to make weapons out of these children, and was successful only with Sanji - but since he still retained the mutant genes, Judge spent the entirety of Sanji's childhood trying to awaken them to get him on par with the others. They are mercenaries, and of course the most effective mercenary is one that won't die.

These enhancements take a really long time to actually awaken, though. As much pain as Sanji endured, he hadn't gotten close enough to death for it to save him.

He was nineteen and locked in the basement when the fire started. Nobody else was home, so nobody else got hurt, but he wasn't able to escape easily. He ended up with burns on 90% of his body, presumed dead by his family, but his healing factor kicked in just in time to save him.

He took up mercenary work, as it was all he knew and all he felt he could contribute, but was still determined to regain his humanity through it.

Over the years he got close to a small group of people.

Zeff, the grumpy old geezer that inevitably taught him to cook, and never judged him for his mutant genetics or scars. Also happened to be an ex-mercenary and kept connections to help with his work.

Franky, Robin, Luffy, and Ace- mutant friends, the primary x-men in his timeline.

Nami and Vivi, two of his favorite people in the world.

Usopp, his best friend and the regular ass guy thats been there for him every step of the way (yes he is the peter)

After a bit of a quarter life crisis, these nine people closest to him are at risk of being taken away from him forever, and it's his fault. He's determined to fix it on his own.

.

Zoro as Wolverine -

With little to no memories of his childhood or early life, the x-men are all Zoro has.

Until he doesn't. Until his adamant independence led to all of them getting killed.

Johnny. Yosaku. It was the discovery of Kuina's body that really sent him over the edge, a spiral that lasted years before Deadpool dragged him into his timeline. A timeline where Wolverine was dead, and the fabric of space and time threatened to fall apart.

[cherubfae]

𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 || {𝔞𝔨𝔞𝔱𝔰𝔲𝔨𝔦}

They're now realizing what a mistake it was to introduce you to the group, now they have competition with their own teammate.

tags: former ninja!reader, gn! civilian reader, established relationships, threats, violence, protective!akatsuki, slightly suggestive in Sasori's || MINORS DONT INTERACT

Pain

He knows that Konan is harmless and she's not the sort of disrespectful person to go sniffing about where she doesn't belong, especially where he and his partner are concerned. Pain, however, cannot tolerate the lingering touches Konan gives you as she passes by. Her hand brushing yours, guiding you with an arm around your shoulders, and blushing at you. He feels a warning is warranted.

"You are my dear friend, Konan, I have known you many years, but this simply won't do. You are better than how you are acting. Be respectful and leave them alone, and I won't need to inflict pain upon you."

Konan

Oh, well isn't this troublesome. Konan isn't the type to make idle threats, but Pain is her commander and leader. That would not be a wise decision on her part, but she does trust her long-time friend to be somewhat respectful and not place you in any situation where you would be uncomfortable. She's not above putting her foot down if she really must.

"Sir, with all due respect, my partner isn't interested and we would both appreciate you to mind your manners."

Obito

You are his everything. He would destroy the entire world for you. Level mountains, tame seas, there isn't anything he wouldn't do as long as it's within his power. He's pretty surprised that Zetsu even took a liking to you, as he's not one that's expressed interest in most anything other than his eating habits.

"Surely Zetsu is mistaken. My partner isn't a corpse for you to munch on you, nor are they yours for the taking. Keep your distance and I won't have to bloody you up too much."

Zetsu

As with anything, both sides of him are at a near constant quarrel with each other. His light side trying to reassure his darker side that Tobi is harmless and doesn't mean anything malicious by taking interest in you.

"Tobi is a good boy, he means no harm." "His harm is his unwarranted interest in our beloved partner. Fool! You have no sense, do you?"

Hidan

Honestly he could laugh so hard he may undo the stitches in his neck. That old fucker wants his partner?? Is he actually serious?

"Haha! That's fucking rich! You've gotta be at least one-hundred by now, huh? Fuck off, geezer! They're not yours!"

Kakuzu

Clearly decapitating Hidan over and over doesn't make him talk any less. Neither does stabbing him-- but it sure does take the edge off. Kakuzu would rather not deal with the younger man's insufferable stubbornness. You are his lover, his alone, and Hidan had no chance in whatever the fuck kind of afterlife his mighty lord Jashin provides. None. Fuck off, Hidan.

"As if they'd want someone as lowly as you. You don't even pay for your own shit. Remember your place or I won't hesitate to remove you from this world permanently. One swipe and your head will be freed from your miserable shoulders. I'm sure all sorts of insects would love to burrow inside of that hollow space."

Itachi

For a moment he's reminded of Sasuke's little schoolboy crush on you, except Kisame isn't Sasuke. He is a grown adult capable of getting in the way of Itachi's livelihood. Threatening the sanctity of his relationship. He's unlikely to do much other than step in if he crosses any boundaries or makes you uncomfortable. So until something is said, it's just this weird, heavy atmosphere. Kisame starts to speak but Itachi cuts him off immediately.

"Keep their name out of your mouth, Kisame. I won't warn you again."

Kisame

Oftentimes he wonders how lonely Itachi is. He annihilated his entire clan save for his younger brother in a single night. He took away everything he loved and for what? He can appreciate Itachi's past but Kisame doesn't take too kindly to the eldest Uchiha brother being a bit too welcoming and protective of his partner.

"Itachi, a word of advice. Don't shit where you eat. And keep your nose out of other's relationships. You're a good, respectable man and I appreciate your concern in my partner's well-being. Let me handle it from here."

Sasori

There's still the age-old artistic view difference between the two: eternal art vs shortlived art. One could argue both have their merits, but even after all these years it was a sore subject between the blonde and redhead duo. And now you were thrown into the mix.

"If you truly think you're so superior to me, Deidara, then perhaps you'd be more open to what a waste your art truly is. My partner prefers eternal, long-lasting, but there's nothing long nor lasting about, is there?"

Deidara

This was great. Jusssst great. Sasori had been hanging around his area of the hideout more and for what, Deidara wasn't sure. Until he recalled that you had been given special permission to visit from Pain himself. You'd forsaken your village long ago and clearly had no interest in reporting them, so it was allowed. Sasori had begun skulking about ever since and the blonde could guess why he might be drawn to you.

"If you even think about turning my partner into a fuckin' puppet, I won't hesitate to kill you, Sasori. No matter which way I go about it, you'll end up in splinters. So, I repeat. Stay the fuck away from them, hmm."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[leehslvr]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Kismet

── kismet. When you encounter something by chance that seems like it was meant to be, then it could be kismet, your destiny.

or ── Your solo trip to Barcelona was may more than what you expected after meeting a kind stranger on the plane and spending the whole duration of your tour with him.

pair ⟢ art student!jay x fem law student!reader

wc ⟢ 10.9k

genres/tropes/disclaimers ⟢ fluff, one shot, angst(?), strangers to lovers, meet cute, mentions of Sunghoon, Karina (aespa), and Wonyoung (IVE), very slight jangkku but nothing major

{let me know if I've missed anything}

authors note ⟢ I am not from Barcelona, nor Madrid so if I get anything wrong please let me know. Also I hope my memory and research serves me right about the history parts included in all of these. + this is a veeery old story I had and just rewrote it but i hope you enjoy!

You have never really imagined yourself leaving your house with a carrier in your hand and your mom's shower of kisses, going to the airport, ready to board a plane headed straight for Barcelona, all on your own for a good 3 days of your summer vacation. A solo trip has been on your list of things to do before you turn 30 ever since you were in high school. Growing up, you've always dreamt of going to another country without your parents dragging you to gift shops after gift shops while all you just wanted to do was to go to the beach or to see their local museum.

And now, all of those long-awaited dreams are finally coming true. It took a while to convince your mom to let you travel alone since she's always been so strict. She kept on asking why would you insist on doing that and why don't you want to take the family with you. But after begging her to let you do it on your own because you want to use this opportunity so you can enjoy some alone time and independence, she finally gave you her permission, but only for 3 days, and with your own money —a deal that was more than enough for you.  At surface level it may sound a bit suffocating having your parents know every plan you wish to do, but you know that she means well. Your mom has always restricted you on a lot of things, but if she sees that it makes her children happy then she does her best to keep her worries aside and just let them do the things that they want (with the exception of anything illegal that it; she wouldn't let you see the next day). 

I took you more than two whole semesters of working part time at the local bakery and fighting the urge to buy every cute new shirt on display in order to earn enough from your paycheck to buy a plane ticket and save up enough pocket money before you can finally get to your dream vacation. 

Everything was going well, there was no traffic on the way to the airport, the flight didn't get delayed, you were now on your second plane after the layover, the sky was clear, you got a window seat, and you had enough leg room. The only thing that bothered you was the fact that the man sitting next to you doesn't seem to value your personal space.

It's been the 5th time since departure that he kept on placing his head on your shoulder every time he decides to take a nap. All efforts of freeing your shoulder of this unknown man were put to waste whenever he keeps putting them back. You're a person that usually understands these kinds of situations, but god it was getting annoying. A man, seated in an aisle away from yours, seemed to notice your struggle. He was quiet but he kept side glancing at what was happening.

Park Jongseong (or as his close friends like to call him as Jay) heard the person seated across him let out a sigh every time the old geezer unknowingly placed his head on her shoulder. He saw the discomfort on your face and all your efforts to get him off of you. 

It was honestly painful to watch. 

He keeps seeing this young girl push the head of the stranger but then it keeps happening again and again.

And now, for the sixth time that it happened, you just decided to politely tell the man that you were getting uncomfortable, when he woke up he apologized and tried to fight off his drowsiness. 

Guilt suddenly crept up your nerves thinking that this middle aged man couldn't even get some rest because you felt uneasy. Staring out of the window to avoid any more awkward encounters, when suddenly Jay broke the quiet air. "Excuse me sir, could we perhaps switch seats? I need to ask my friend about something and I wouldn't want to be rude by talking to her while you're in the middle."

You averted your gaze from the window to the guy who was now standing up to gather his things. (Much to your surprise that is. Was he that tired to just let a random dude give him orders to switch places?)

A young man (who, based on his looks, was the same age as you) took the old man’s place; who now was resting quietly in his new seat.

You looked at the new stranger seated beside you and quietly observed his features. He had a high bridge nose, his lips were full and plump, his eyebrows were dark and he had a striking jawline to compliment them. His jet black hair seemed to match his tanned skin.

He looked at you and gave you a small smile.

Should I say thank you? You thought to yourself

You kept looking at him, with no expression on your face. Jongseong’s smile started to change into an awkward one, not really knowing what to do at this point. To him, he just wanted to do something nice for the girl who looked like was about to burst out at any given moment. But now, you're giving him a blank look and a quiet atmosphere that made him feel like he did something that bothered you even more.

"Uhm...thank you" You whispered.

With those words, his smile returned to his face. "No problem, I saw you struggle there for a bit. It'd be really tiring if you had to do that for the whole flight" He said to you in a hushed voice, being careful not to be heard. 

“Well thankfully I wouldn’t have to experience that. It’s nice of you” You hushed back, removing your gaze off of him and back to the window of clouds and blue skies.

___

More than 5 hours had passed and the plane was still in the air. 

After getting some shut eye, you're starting to feel numbness as you sit through the whole flight dozing off or watching a series. You and the stranger seated next to you haven't had a conversation since he switched seats with the other man. The only exchange you had after that was when you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. 

You weren't really one for conversation. You've always had trouble starting conversations with people, and you struggled to keep them going. And seeing that you were either too busy sleeping or crying over another episode of the drama that you were watching, the handsome boy didn't seem to bother to talk to you either.

You were onto the last few episodes and things were starting to get very emotional and being the type of person that gets their emotions attached to these kinds of dramas, you unfortunately couldn't control the tears that escaped from your eyes; in a place like this, besides a cute guy who was probably judging you right now.

Jay thought it was cute though; How this girl beside him reacted to every scene that she was watching. He doesn't even know if she was aware that he heard her gasp when one of the main character's secrets were revealed, or how she started smiling when the leads kissed. Now, she's been shedding tears and she was desperately trying to hide it.

While trying to cover your face with your hands by wiping the tears that fell on your cheek, you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder, only to be met with a pack of tissues. You looked at the stranger (whose name you still don't know), and the tissues he was holding out.

"These might help" He smiled at you once again and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hesitated to grab them. His hand was still reaching out and he continued by saying "Take one, I completely understand. Episode 16 was the worst"

With the small piece of dignity you had left, you took a piece, quickly thanked him, and returned to your screen. You can see from the corner of your eye that he let out a small laugh.

Great. He must think I'm a total weirdo.

After finishing the last episode, and milking your eyes out, You have finally decided to take a rest from watching. Jay looked at you and gave you a thumbs up, non-vocally asking you if you were okay.

Letting out a small laugh, you looked at your feet before speaking.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that" You told him in a hushed voice while trying to avoid eye contact. "It's fine, I couldn't stop crying myself when I finished the drama"

Deciding to try and have a good conversation with the nice guy, you finally looked back at him. "So are you traveling alone?" You asked him.

"Yeah, I've always wanted to go to Barcelona. They say their beaches are the best, and could make you speechless and I want to see it for myself" He excitedly told you. 

"Is it your first time to travel alone?" 

"Not really. This would be my third time" You nodded and told him how lucky he is that he got to do it often.

"How about you?" He asked you back. "Is it your first solo trip?"

You said yes by slowly nodding your head. "I'm really nervous if I have to be honest. My mom usually plans our trips. I don't even know what I would do If I got lost. I didn't even get a tour guide, because that wouldn't fit my budget." You start talking while playing with your fingers.

"It's going to be fun. Don't worry too much. If something bad happens, then it happens. You could miss out on so many great things if you begin to worry."

He gave out another smile. Something that is weirdly comforting from a stranger. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now approaching Barcelona where the local time is 1:00 PM. Please be in your seat with your seatbelt firmly fastened...."

With the sound of the speakers telling everyone to prepare for landing, the conversation was immediately cut off. You went to check if your seatbelt was fastened and if the seat tables were stowed away properly. Your phone was turned off so you didn't have to worry about it. You've always hated take offs and landing. The ear clogging is painful and irritating. Just as you were about to prepare for ringing in your ears, the guy beside you started to pass you something again. 

This time it was chewing gum.

"Do you want some? I chew on them it so my ears won't hurt during landing"

How does he seem to have a solution for everything I go through?

You grabbed the gum and thanked him before you could even hear the insufferable ear popping. 

When you felt the plane land and when the cabin crews finally announced your arrival, you stood up quickly feeling the numbness in your legs that you have to pray to the gods that you wouldn't stumble over and make a fool out of yourself. 

When you've finally got a hold of all your carry-ons, you prepared yourself to head out of the plane doors but before you did, saying thank you to the kind stranger who treated you well wouldn’t hurt. 

But as you turn around in search of the striking set of eyes and beautiful tanned skin, he was nowhere to be found

Your eyes scanned what was left of the plane but only a few people were there, and none were of him. 

I guess that was it. I never even got his name.

When the Barcelona air had hit your face and the unfamiliar landscape had come into your view, you've finally realized something; you're going to be doing this on your own now. No parents. No siblings. No tour guide. Not even a kind stranger to help you sort things out.

It's just you, alone, ready to take on an adventure that you've waited for so long.

___

You were lucky to get a great hotel at the heart of the Gothic Quarter, located just near the cathedral. It was summer and a lot of families were on vacation so you worried whether you'd be getting a good place to stay without having to pull out any more money than you've already had. Luckily for you, one of the hotels with good reviews that offers a cheap price had a room fitted enough for your liking and budget.

After setting down your things in the room, you decided to give the place a tour. The walls were painted white and they were accented with wood to fit the classy mood. There was a huge sliding window that connected the room and a small balcony that gives you a great view of the skyline. The room was small so there really wasn't much to look at. It was your typical summer hotel room but you couldn't complain. You were just glad you got here. You decided to go outside and take a look at the whole building before you decide to tour Barcelona. Grabbing your camera, you headed outside on the way to their lobby.

It was crowded, a lot of families were already here. Some were lounging on the couch and the children were running around. The staff was busy but they still accommodated their guests well. You decided to ask them for more inclusions and fair enough, you were pretty satisfied. They served a breakfast buffet and a rooftop pool. Although most hotels have that now, you still couldn't hide your smile.

It was time that you decided to go tour the city, starting with the cathedral that was a few blocks from my accommodation. A lot of people have said that the Barcelona Cathedral was something everyone must see in their lifetime. And there was no denying how amazing it was. With its gothic architecture and tall structures, you would’ve beat yourself up if you missed the chance to witness it.

You quickly took out your camera and started snapping pictures. Growing up loving the arts, you have always appreciated these kinds of things. The way the building was structured had you at awe. Photos wouldn't capture its beauty. You decided to go closer when you heard a deep voice behind you.

"Excuse me, could I take a picture?" 

You turned around, surprised by the voice, but what surprised you more was who owned it.

It was him. The kind stranger that sat beside you on the plane. He was holding his camera that was hanging from his neck. He gave you a smile once again and a wave of his hand as if to say hello. "Either this is a coincidence or fate just wants us together”.

"What are you doing here?" You asked with surprise and confusion written on your face. "I mean, I did tell you I'm here on vacation right?" He said as if it was obvious.

Of course he is, why would I even ask that.

"I'm sorry I scared you." He apologized while giving a worried smile. 

"No, don't worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Just a bit surprised, that's all"

It really was a surprise. Even Jay questioned whether it was her or not. 

He just got to the cathedral when he saw her standing in the middle with her looking through her viewfinder. He didn't believe it at first but after getting a good look, he knew it was her. 

Then it felt awkward. There were hundreds of people and cars making noise around but the silence between the two of you was deafening. 

To avoid the atmosphere you decided to just look through the photos on your camera. Until he spoke again. 

"Do you want to check the inside?"

Without hesitation, you nodded your head since that was what you were planning to do before he arrived.

And so two pairs of feet led the both of you inside the infamous gothic church. The stranger was standing beside you making it seem like the both of you arrived together on purpose. People who don't know any better  would think that the both of you are on this trip as a couple on their honeymoon (not that you would want people to think that).

It's either he must really respect your space or he was just as fascinated as you as he decided to not hold a conversation after entering the wide doors. Jongseong quickly took notice of the fact that you took your time to admire the interior of the cathedral. After looking at the beautiful ceiling he glanced at your amazed expression and involuntarily let out a small smile that even he wasn't aware of. 

As you took your time looking up at the sculpted pillars and the intricate details of the altars and pews that were lit with a golden tint, mixed with the natural light that came from the stained glass windows, the mysterious man started talking again. 

"Its other name is The Cathedral of the Holy Rosary and Saint Eulalia"

Looking from the altar to his face that the natural lighting perfectly captured, you waited for him to continue what he was saying, intriguing your curious and hungry mind. He was looking away from your gaze as he went on with what he had to say. "Most people know the place as the Barcelona Cathedral while locals like to call it La Seu."

After his explanation, he looked back at you and met with your eyes and went back to his discussion. "They named it after Saint Eulalia. She was a martyr. Was only 13 at the time that she was murdered by Roman soldiers. Poor soul was even tortured before her death. 13 different times specifically."

"Why'd they murder her?" You asked back, curious as to what happened. 

"They said that she didn't want to renounce her Christianity when everyone was told to do so" His voice trailed off. He placed his hands inside the pockets of his coat and rocked on his heel. "I think it's admirable how she stuck to what she believed in despite other people telling her otherwise."

You thought to yourself, this man was really full of surprises. You came to this country hoping to learn something new but you never thought that it would be from a boy you met on the plane. "I guess you've done your research before coming here" You stated.

"I've read them somewhere. Stuff like these have always piqued my interest. Churches, paintings, sculptures, you name it."

"Art student?" You asked him with a raised brow. 

"Was I too obvious?" He replied with a smirk. The both of you started to let out a small laugh while unintentionally synchronizing as you both stared at your feet. 

"How about you?" Confused as to what he meant, you stared up at him with both brows raised. "Art student?" With a sad smile you shook your head left and right slowly. "Uhm...no. Legal management actually" He hummed and nodded at the same time in response. 

"Lawyer?" He asked again. "I hope so". Jongseong seemed to notice the way you reacted but didn't dwell too much as to why. He just decided to switch back to your previous topic. "Well attorney, the locals also said that their cloister is also a must-see" His deep voice enthusiastically mentioned letting go of your previous conversation. "Then we should"

The both of you walk down the path on the way to the open-aired garden. At the heart of it was a beautiful sunbathed oasis that housed geese. Holding out your camera, you looked through the viewfinder to get a perfect shot of the scenery. Adjusting the zoom, aperture, and the angle in order to capture all of its beauty.

To your right, unknown to you, Jongseong was taking his own pictures. Not of the scenery. But of the person who captured his attention.

__

Your mom would pull out every strand of her hair all at once if she ever finds out that her daughter is roaming a foreign city with a man she just met. 

You're honestly surprised that you aren't kicking your ass for something that could possibly be so dangerous. For all you know, this man could have been a serial killer or your stalker that had finally cornered you in a place that you know nothing of. 

But alas, here you are heading for a small bookshop on the corner of La Rambla, Barcelona, because the both of you have found out that you enjoy the aura of bookstores. 

You don't really understand it yourself as to why you would agree to let this man take you there without even knowing his name. However, something about him made you rely on him. His cold exterior was washed over by his warm and kind personality that you just couldn't help but see him as someone you could depend upon.

Known by a lot of people, you love reading. A small space at your home was dedicated to a shelf of all of the novels that you have read all throughout your reading journey. So when your strange new friend mentioned that he saw an antique bookshop on the way to the Cathedral, you did not hesitate to let him take you there. 

The beautiful tree-lined pedestrian street of La Rambla was filled with people — tourists and locals. The streets were crowded and you made sure to look over your stuff in case there were any pickpockets. Your new friend decided that he should walk a step behind you to keep you safe.

Taking a short turn, your eyes have finally met with a bookshop that had an antique housing to compliment its aesthetic. You stared up at him to confirm whether this was the place that he was referring to. He nodded and held out his arms which meant that you should go in first.

You opened the doors to the bookstore and you were quickly met with an array of books and novels lined up on wooden shelves with a number of rows. The inside was incredibly quaint and you hoped to the gods that you could find a good book in English without having to spend hours looking through all of them. 

You weren't the only one fascinated with what you saw. You looked at the person beside you to see that he had his mouth open and his eyes fixated on the rows of shelves that lined up inside the antique bookshop.

The both of you wasted no time looking through the number of books. Your eyes quickly scan the shelves for a nice read. The titles were filled with different genres and languages. Fiction, travel guides, biographies, classics, history memoirs. It was every bibliophile's dream. You weren't really sure what you were looking for to begin with.

Should I get a Jane Austen novel? Or maybe a memoir on Princess Diana? A dystopian book? A different version of your Percy Jackson books that you have on your shelf? Or maybe just get another law book for one of your legal management classes to get it over with. 

You thought to yourself as you looked through the pages of every novel that your hands could pick up. You decided to look through the shop when you finally caught the sight of your companion. He had his back turned as he was looking through a book over at one section of the shop. Arts section. You should've known.

You decided to take a look at this section yourself. As you approached his figure, Jongseong turned around sensing yours. You waited until you approached him before speaking. "Found something you like?"

He nodded his head yes as he showed you what book he wanted to buy. A memoir on Michaelangelo. "How about you?" This time, he asked you. You nodded your head no with a sad smile. "I don't even know what I'm looking for"

"Well, what do you like?" He asked again. 

"What inspires you?"

"Uhm....I don't know. Politics? Maybe I could read about the policies around he-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence because you were cut off with his deep voice. Jay knew that tone and expression. That voice didn't show genuine love for what you were talking about.

"What do you honestly like?" Not believing your excuse, he asked again.

You took a few seconds to answer his question. "I like photography".

He raised his eyebrows at you. His body was now facing yours and his eyes were intently looking at your face while listening closely to what you have to say. "I've always liked photography. When my mom bought me my camera, I wouldn't let go of it and just take photos of everything. I've only tried landscapes because that was the only thing I could start with. I've wanted to do portraits but I don't have enough ideas on how to do it. Plus, my major doesn't really give me the time to practice."

Jay saw the twinkle in your eyes as you talked about your love for the art form. "Then it's settled. Let's get you a book on that one"

Without even realizing it, he was soon dragging you all across the bookshop trying to look for the perfect book to take home.

And somehow, someway, after buying yourself a book on the art of photography, you and your companion found yourselves having dinner at one of the restaurants you found down the street. The both of you have decided to try tapas. 

You didn't know when, but the awkward atmosphere that the both of you had when you first met was replaced with comfort and a light air. 

Despite not knowing each other's names, you talked as if you're old friends that were catching up with one another after not seeing each other for years. While waiting for the order to arrive, the both of you started discussing what other places you plan to go to during your stay.

"There's this place I saw online. I was planning to go there. But it's getting late, I think it'd be better if I go there when the sun is still out" You said to the young man that was sitting across from you. "What's it called?" He asked.

"Uhm it's a park. I think it's called Ciutadella? Ciutadella Park?" You told him not really sure if your pronunciation was correct. 

His eyes immediately widened, signalling that he knew what you were talking about. "I was planning to go there too! They have this amazing cascada inside the park. It’s near The Sagrada Familia if you want to check that out too. " He told you with an excited tone. You smiled at his reaction.

Suddenly, you wondered whether the both of you would be going together just like what you did today. You thought about if it was a good thing to ask him that because you didn't want to seem like you have attached yourself already with your travel partner and that you would want to tour the city with him again tomorrow. It was silly to be honest. Why would I want to go sightseeing with this man when the only thing I know about him is his face and his love for art? You realized that you were still in mid conversation and that it was rude to just go quiet all of the sudden.

"I was planning to practice taking pictures once I got there" You said to him. Your fingers were playing with the utensils you had in front of you. While slightly tapping on the wooden table, Jay replied. "That's great then. I guess we should go there early so you have enough natural light."

We? Is he really implying that we should go together?

He looked at your face and saw that your expression was mixed with both confusion and surprise. Your head was slightly tilted like a lost puppy, your mouth was slightly ajar, and your eyebrows were raised. He started questioning whether he said the right words. Did he come off as too adherent?

"You want us to go together?" He was caught off guard when you asked him. Not knowing the right words to say, he stammered. "I mean...if you want to...I'm not forcing you, it's just...I mean, we are going to the same place, so why don't we go together?"

His voice was hanging in the air. The only sounds that you two heard were the cluttering of utensils, other customers talking, and the background music that the restaurant provided. You noticed his eyes shaking trying to avoid your eyes. Then, you let out a giggle.

"Sure" You said.

His eyes finally met with yours the instant you said that word. "Oh God, I thought you would think I'm a creep" With his words you started to laugh. "You kind of are" You joked while telling him with a smile. Jay played along, letting out an exaggerated gasp while his right hand found his chest. "I feel offended"

You were still laughing at his silly expression when you continued talking "To be honest, you wanted to sit with me during the plane ride and now you decide to come up to me at the cathedral. I think that calls for a creep" He smiled at your smug expression as you talked. "I only did it because it was painful to watch. You kept frowning every five minutes" He fired back. Jay gave an equally smug look and now it was your turn to react. "Was it really painful to watch?" He started laughing, showing you his smile.

Soon your laughter started to die down. The air between the two of you was silent again, but in a comforting way. 

Epiphany hits you after your discussion on how the both of you met. You never got to say thank you properly. When you turned around to say your gratitude, you went looking for him, only to see that he was gone. Not losing the opportunity again, you decided to tell him now.

"Thank you, by the way" He looked up at you when you said those words.

He was silent and didn't say anything so you decided to explain further. "For what you did on the plane. Switching seats, the tissue — as embarrassing as that was, the chewing gum. You didn't even know me but you decided to help. So....Thank you"

A smile slowly started to form across Jay’s face. He saw your shy demeanor as you said your gratitude towards him which made his heart flutter. "You're welcome," He replied.

"It's strange how we just met and you start treating me like a friend but you did it anyway. I mean, look at us, we don't even know each other's names and-" Your blabbering was cut off with his deep voice.

"Jongseong. Or Jay if you prefer." He replied. "That's my name"

“Y/N. Nice to meet you”

__

You were pretty satisfied that your day had ended with you putting a name to that stranger's face.

Jay.

Ever since you told each other your names, they pretty much rolled off the tongue. After dinner both of you really had nothing left to do except enjoy the Barcelona night sky. Jay talked to you throughout the evening. He told you how he got into art and why he loves it so much. From his story, you clearly tell that it was something he was passionate about. It basically ran through his entire body.

But just when I thought that nothing could beat his love for painting, Jay couldn't help himself as he told you about his friends back home. He even took the time to pull out a photo of them that he had on his wallet to show you. With the way he smiled while he told you all of his favorite memories of them together, it was clear that he really valued them.

Of course, you had to share stories as well. It would be really unfair on his part if he did all the talking.

So you told him how your major wasn't even your first choice. You've wanted to take up photography or film as your degree. But remembering how you felt like you had to repay your parents for everything that they had done, you decided to take up a pre-law course so you can follow in the footsteps of your father. 

You had to admit that you didn't enjoy it at first but you grew to love it. The idea of switching majors still pops up once in a while but you've always told yourself that you could still do photography even with a PhD.

His words still rang in your head after you told him your story.

"You shouldn't do things to make other people proud. You have to make yourself proud"

Jay finally understood all those sad smiles everytime that topic was brought about. Sure, he felt sorry for her and wanted to tell her to switch if photography was what made her truly happy but he decided that he shouldn't. He wanted to respect your decision, knowing that he didn't have control over her life.

He walked you back to your hotel which was only a few blocks away from his. Before saying good night and "see you again", he promised to wait for you outside of your hotel tomorrow at 8:00 AM so the both of you could go to the Ciutadella Park and the Basilica together.

It was silly how quickly you had trusted this man to join you while you toured around the city but that was nearly impossible not to do with his charming personality.

Jay couldn't believe it himself that he was able to build a friendship (if that's what you called it) through this trip. It's usually just him traveling alone or traveling with friends but never with a woman he just found out the name of.

And so the night goes. Neither of them could sleep properly because of jetlag. You also had to remind yourself to update your parents because they might be going crazy at this point. Of course, you didn't tell them about Jay. They would flip. You thought that it'd be better if you kept this to the both of you. 

__

The alarm that you've set the previous night rang to tell you that it was time to get ready for day 2 of your formerly called solo trip in Barcelona.

To say that you felt giddy to finally have to spend the whole entire day traveling the city was an understatement. You want to believe that it was because yesterday's flight tired you out that you haven't comprehended the thought that you are strolling the city but if you were trying to be honest enough, it was probably because your thoughts were filled with the art-loving and soft hearted boy that accompanied you.

Now, after getting ready to go out, you decided to go down to the hotel lobby as Jay said he will be meeting you there. Waiting for the elevator doors to open, you made sure that you looked presentable enough. When the ground floor came into your sight, you got out of the golden walled elevator and walked down to the lobby.

The place was huge and crowded. Dozens of people were walking around or seated on the sofas but within those numbers of people, your eyes still found him sitting on one of the sofas near, with his eyes on the floor.

Jay has been sitting on the same couch for the past 25 minutes, waiting for you to come down. He came early just in case you finished before him, not wanting you to wait too long. A few of the hotel staff have approached him already asking if he wanted anything. He didn't want to be paranoid but at one point he even thought that you ditched him and went ahead earlier. That was until he saw your figure walking towards him.

Jay was beautiful. You've noticed it from the first time you saw him. His eyes pulled you in and his boxy smile captivated you. It was like seeing a star up close. But just like him, you wouldn't admit it out loud.

When he first saw you, he didn't deny the fact that he thought that you were attractive. That obviously wasn't something he would say so suddenly but it was still something he would have to admit for himself. Today was just like yesterday. The same thoughts came running through his head when he saw you smile at him as you approached him.

He immediately stood up to greet you and to return the smile you gave him. "Ready for today?" He asked with a welcoming look. Returning the kindness, you answered him. "Of course!" You held out your camera and smiled.

"Well let's get going then" 

_

It surprisingly just took the both of you a few minutes from your hotel room to your destination. Somehow, to the extent of your knowledge, the small map that Jay had prepared for his trip came in handy in time of traveling the city. With your broken Spanish, you thanked a few people that helped you get to where you are now — Ciutadella Park.

You were welcomed with a wide steel fence, wedged in between two statues. The inside was like a forest that housed itself with many trees and a peaceful ambiance. When the both of you finally got inside, you were more than pleased to see such beauty. The garden was gorgeous. It was surrounded by hundreds of plants, and the air was as fresh as it looked. The fountain at the center was enormous and breath-taking. Upon entering, you couldn't contain the excitement and started capturing everything you could see. From the flowerscape to the cascade, you knew that you would be able to fill your camera with so many pictures.

But pictures will only be pictures until you turn them into memories. 

Jay suddenly asked you if you wanted to get your picture taken. Quickly hesitating, he kept on persisting, saying that it won't be forever that you would get to see this place, and not having your photo taken there could make you regret it in a few years.

"If you let me take your picture, I'd let you practice your portraits on me"

A tempting offer since that is what you told him that you wanted to do. Honestly, you just felt shy to stand in front of the camera with him taking the photo. Silently giving him a look that said "I kind of want to, but I'm not sure", he extended his hand which meant to give him your camera. After a few more seconds of deciding, you finally caved in. He instructed you to stand near the fountain and smile, in which you did.

Jay really had no excuse other than to build up conversation again. He didn't even intend to say that you would model for him but seeing there really isn't any other person there with her, he had no choice. Not that he complained, he saw a few of your photos, some through the camera he took from you, and some through what you showed him over dinner last night. He trusted what you could do — something an artist like him would know. He saw you stand in front of the scenery ready to smile for the camera.

He had to admit that you look just as gorgeous compared to the garden. You were breath-taking. After taking more than a dozen pictures, Jay handed you back your camera. While actually judging yourself through the screen, your companion took some pictures of his own. A few of the scenery, and some, of you.

You had to admit, he did make you look decent in the photo. He captured your smile without it looking too cheesy. There were a few candid shots here and there but you were pretty pleased with it. It made you glad that you agreed to Jay’s random request. You looked back up and saw him taking some photos on his own camera. 

You approached with a smirk. "So how about that deal?", already knowing what you meant, he hid his camera and smiled at you.

The whole practice shoot with Jay took a lot of shots, laughing, whining, and begging. He was an amazing model, you were sure of it. If he didn't major in arts, you would most probably see him on a billboard or a magazine. His looks alone could get those companies big money. Jay was also a goof. He liked to play a lot. Like a cat. He has a habit of charming people. He doesn't do it intentionally, it just sort of comes naturally to him. 

They just find him too irresistible. He isn't aware that he has such a contagious smile and laugh that even when he does the bare minimum, people laugh along with him. It didn't surprise you that despite not having many still shots where he wasn't laughing, Jay looked exceptionally good. To say that he was impressed with your skills was an understatement, he saw your passion so whatever you had put out, he knew that he would like it. I mean, art built from passion is always better than aesthetically pleasing art right?

The day passed by like lightning. After taking your photos of your companion, you both strolled around the park, even going to the lake to take a short boat ride.

Now, the both of you were on your way to the Picasso museum for Jay. It took both of you at least another several minutes of travel. He started to become giddy. He didn't show it but through the small time of knowing him, you knew that he was ready to see the exhibit.

When the two of you entered the museum, you could see that he was gleaming with excitement. The once talkative boy became quiet as he took his time to admire the art pieces. He carefully read each description and he would tell you his own analysis of each work. 

"I'm sorry if I talk about this stuff too much" He started to apologize. Something he shouldn't do. No one should really apologize for something that makes them genuinely happy. 

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I like hearing you talk about these things" You assured him. He looked from the painting on the wall to you. "You do?" You nodded in response. "Of course. It tells me something I never knew" Jay gave you a small and genuine smile. He really appreciated it when people listened to his explanations and stories. It makes him want to tell more.

"Well I hope you wouldn't mind if I asked you to go to one more right?"

"Today? I thought we were going to the night market?" You asked back. "We can always go tomorrow or the next day, I mean we have-"

"Jay" You cut him off. He hummed in response and looked at you. "Tomorrow is my last day. My flight leaves at 11PM" You quickly told him before he starts making plans for the future. You completely forgot to tell him that your stay here was limited and that you have to go back home immediately.

"So soon?" You nodded in response.

"I still have like a few days left, traveling wouldn't be fun without you" He said with a pout on his face. You couldn't help but awe at him. If only you could stay for a few more days but booking another plane ticket would cost you more and you didn't have money for that now.

"We could still go in the morning or the afternoon though, I wouldn't mind" You smiled at him. Unintentionally and unknowingly, you lightly grabbed his arm, something which startled him a bit, but in a good way. "Well then miss Y/N, let's make your last day memorable. I'm taking you to Madrid"

__

Tomorrow came back so soon. After yesterday, Jay said he would pick you up again for your last day tour around the city. Madrid wasn't really in your plan of things to do but he said to be spontaneous. He wanted you to make the most out of it. You want to see more of the country and its culture and what better way to do that than to hop from one city to another. 

Just like yesterday, Jay arrived at your hotel lobby before you. He sat again in the same seat with the same look. Madrid was at least a two hour trip so the both of you quickly headed out, not wanting to waste time.

"So how long is your stay here?" You asked him while taking the long bus ride. "A week. My flight leaves on Saturday" he said. Just like you, Jay didn't plan to go to Madrid. He was supposed to go later into his trip but some things have changed and he just decided to just go ahead with it. 

He didn't really understand why he would go all the way and mix up all his plans and tire himself out for this girl he just met, but he was glad that he did. He loved your company, and to think that he would then have to spend the rest of his trip without someone he could tell jokes and stories with didn't seem as exciting as he first hopped on the plane to Barcelona.

"You've said that this wasn't your first trip right?" You began to ask him to start a conversation. He hummed and nodded in response. "Out of all of them? What was your favorite?" He gave it short thought, slightly tilting his head to think of an answer. "I'm not sure. They were all special"

"Come on you have to have one favorite"

"Not really, they're all different in their own way I guess, so I can't really choose"

"Alright, I’ll let you sit that one out" 

Jay began a new conversation. "My turn. Tell me something about you."

"Well...I like watching dramas," You said in an obvious tone. "Except that. I knew that already. Tell me something I don't know " He was sitting beside you. You had the window seat and he had the altar. He was staring down at you while you took your time to think of something while looking out the window. 

"I've never had a relationship" You answered him. He gave you a questionable smirk but replied quickly. "I won't judge. Why, though? Too busy with school?"

You shook your head to say no. "It's not that. I just haven't really gotten the timing of it" You saw that he was confused, he tilted his head slightly to show it.

"I was never one for a relationship. They come around but they don't stay for a while before something even happens. I don't know. I just start pushing them away because of this irrational fear I have of commitment."

"So you're afraid?"

"You could call it that"

It was silent for a while. You thought that you had brought the mood down until he started talking again. "I used to be afraid." You looked up at him as he began his story.

"Before I had my first partner, I wouldn't know how to act around everyone if I was in a relationship and that scared me. When I got into my first relationship, I immediately thought, 'what was I so afraid of?'. Everything just felt so nice that I never even realized that I was afraid in the first place"

"Then what happened?" Curiously you asked.

"We had our differences. I found out that they have been seeing my roommate behind my back. Got to my dorm to fetch something and I got the biggest shock of my life"

"If you're saying this so I won't be scared anymore then you're not helping"

"I'm saying this, to tell you that being afraid is totally understandable. But you gotta let go of your fear sometimes and just go with it. It could be some of the best years of your life. If worse comes to show then better people will come along the way. Yeah it sucked that I got cheated on, but I realized that I probably saved myself from that one and gave myself a chance to meet someone else. You just have to let fate bring the both of you together"

___

Time flew by too quickly, much to your dismay. Madrid was lovely. You got the chance to stroll around Retiro Park and Royal Palace and you had to thank Jay a couple of times to thank him for making you come.

Sadly, time really wasn't your best friend as it was time to go back to Barcelona to pack your bags so you could go to the airport and get back home. Jay was the sweetest, you told him that he didn't have to take you to the airport but he insisted despite it taking the both of you another two hours to get to your hotel room. 

He decided to wait outside your hotel room while you finished gathering your things out of respect for your personal space. When you were done, he didn't hesitate to grab your luggage to help you.

It was 9PM and you had two hours to spare before your flight leaves. The taxi ride was quiet as Jay sat sat next to you. There was a small space in the middle and no one dared say a word. It wasn't an awkward silence though, more of a comforting but sad silence. It was deafening even when they had the radio turned on.

Deciding to break the unfathomable silence, you decided to speak. 

"Thank you. Again. I know I've said it already but it wouldn't be enough after everything you've done"

"Don't worry. Anyone else would've done the same"

They wouldn't.

"And thank you too," He said. His eyes saw that your hand was lying on your lap. 

After hesitating he softly gave them a squeeze. It surprised you but it didn't freak you out. You were even glad that he did that. 

"This whole trip wouldn't be the same now that you're going to go" He said with a point. His left hand was softly playing with the fingers on your right hand. You gave him a sad smile. 

"We could do it again soon" you replied quietly, not making eye contact, implying that you would like to see him again once you both got home.

"Are you asking me out once I get back home?" He said with an evident smug on his face. "I mean....that isn't what I meant, but if you wanted to" you replied back."I just wish I had your contact number so we could arrange something " His weak attempt of asking for your number made you laugh but it worked nonetheless. Soon you found yourself typing in your phone number on his cell.

Finally arriving at the airport, he took a hold of your luggage for you.

You honestly didn't want to do it. For just 3 days, his presence became a constant reminder to you that you wished to have him by your side when you got inside the plane..

He made you feel less scared.

"I guess you have to go, your plane is waiting for you" He gave your hand one final squeeze before handing you your luggage and letting your hand go. Your fingers felt cold and you'd want to grab a hold of him again but you thought that you shouldn't. You thought that it would be too much. "Yeah. Who's going to switch seats with the old guy beside me now?" You lightly joke.

You probably should walk away now but you weren't. You were still there standing in front of him. "It was nice to meet you Jay, you made this trip extra special" You smiled at him. Without saying anything back, he just nodded. It was your chance to turn around, walk away from him, and to leave Barcelona.

But you guess he had other ideas. To your surprise, you felt a hand grasp your wrist. It was a firm hold but not tight enough for it to hurt. It was firm enough to tell you to not go just yet.

"I've never said it before when you asked but this one was my favorite trip out of all of them."

Jay was bold when he grabbed her closer to him. You felt his lips meet your cheek. It was sudden and out of the blue and it left you frozen for a few seconds. As he slowly stepped back, you turned your head and connected your lips with his. It took a few seconds to realize what was happening but soon he slowly traveled his hand from her wrist to the tips of your face.  His hand was resting on your jaw while every square inch of your body dissolved into his. You suddenly felt a sensation you never knew you were feeling. Jay’s soft hold on you made you cling on to him and made you want him closer than he already was. It wasn't intense, but it wasn't just a goodbye either. It was desperate but soft. It was quick but enough.

The both of you had to let go to catch your breath. With a sad look you had to let go. "I'll see you when you get home."

___

Your mom had bombarded you with dozens of questions after she picked you up from the airport. 

She wanted to know everything, the plane ride, she wanted to know how food tastes, if I talked to any Spanish men while I was there, or if I made a friend. You were too tired and too out of focus to even answer her. 

Jay was still on your mind and you couldn't find the right time to tell her that you did meet someone while you were there and that you both shared a moment before leaving. You wondered how he was doing, or where he was right now, but you couldn't ask him. Your idiocy forgot to tell you to get his phone number so you had to resort into waiting for him to get him which would still be in a few more days.

When you were transferring your photos from your camera to your laptop, your mom immediately wanted to check them out. Just when you thought you've hidden all your photos you had of your companion in a separate folder. One picture was left unknown to you. 

“He’s cute” As your mom, she quickly asked who the stranger was. As if you could've hid it for that long you decided to tell her. Not that she was mad that you had spent your whole trip traveling with a man you just met surprised her but the fact that your stories made it seem like you've known him for so long. “Uhm…I met him on the plane. He happened to be traveling alone too so we just…decided to keep each other company.”

Suddenly, you remembered everything he made you feel. For 3 days, he made you feel like you could trust him. He gave you so many encouraging words and charming lines which immediately attracted you to his loving personality. For 3 days, Jay made you feel like the world. He gave you something you could never forget.

But why does it feel like it doesn't go the same for him? 

Now, it's been weeks since your Barcelona trip and you haven't received one text or phone call from him. You had to triple check whether your cell was still on airplane mode and it wasn't. You started overthinking whether you gave him the wrong number or not and he would think that you didn't want to talk to him anymore. Worse, you started overthinking whether he really wanted to see you again.

You've thought of every possible scenario from him accidentally deleting your number or him getting his phone stolen, but none had soothed your thoughts.

Maybe you were thinking too irrationally and you were getting attached too quickly that you feel disappointed that he has not contacted you yet. It was only 3 days right? You shouldn't be so bummed about him not reaching out after weeks? But why were you? Why are you over thinking about him? Was that kiss just a spur of the moment? Were you just a matter of convenience and spontaneity?

Time flew by, much to your dismay.

A new semester has started and you haven't heard from Jay after your vacation. You've slowly started to let it go thinking that it wouldn't make a difference if you mopped around.

To say that you didn't want to go back was an understatement but you had no other choice. You were early by 5 minutes for your first class, much to your surprise. Your friends Karina and Wonyoung, were already there sitting together. They even saved you a seat as they gestured for you to come over.

"Do any of you want to go with me to the Art departments exhibit tonight? I gotta go support Sunghoon but I don't want to go alone, he'd be too busy with the gallery" Wonyoung asked as you sat down. "Isn't he a sports major?" Karina asked back.

"Yes but he had to take extra units in Art. Do you want to come?"

"Sorry Won, I promised my mom and dad to dinner later"

"Y/N?"

"Yeah sure, I guess it'd be fun"

To be honest, you've never appreciated art as much as you did before Barcelona. Jay changed your mind on it. And now every painting you see, you couldn't stop thinking about him.

By 6 in the evening you found yourself standing with Wonyoung inside the Art departments gallery. You've never realized that the students from your university were crazy talented. The paintings and sculptures were made with fine hands. All of them had their own color and technique.

When Wonyoung said that Sunghoon would be too busy with the gallery to pay attention to her, you believed her.

You shouldn't have.

Her and her boyfriend were now having the time of their lives while you were left around to wonder and see the art. The place was huge and was packed with people but you managed to weave yourself to the last part of the exhibit.

You took your time reading each description and looking at the different strokes on each painting when you've come across one painting in particular.

It was a girl that had her back facing the canvas. She was surrounded by a familiar scene. The towering buildings made the girl look small, the sun shone in the oil canvas, and the trees seemed like they were swaying even if they were made to look still. The gothic painting was a place she knew well.

Barcelona.

It's been months since her last visit but the moments you have spent there were still clear. Of course, it would be. Everything was too memorable to forget — everything and someone. Memories of the charismatic but playful man played in your head and you couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic and regretful. You've thought that after your trip to the historic and romantic city in Europe, you'd finally met someone you were willing to have a romance with. But, maybe you spoke too soon, and too ambitious even.

By this time, it would have been best if you forgot everything and just moved on. I mean, you've only known the man for less than a week, how is it so possible that he could have this much of an impact on you? You've grown too attached to him and it didn't help that he wasn't there to actually have someone attached to. Maybe it was time to finally come to terms with your expectations of you and Jay. Maybe you shouldn't be so down that he didn't text you and just be glad that you met him; even if it was only temporary.

Detaching your gaze from the painting, you've led yourself outside to gather some fresh air. You'd hate to leave Wonyoung but she seems preoccupied as you texted her that you'd be heading out and she replied that she had Sunghoon with her. After pushing away the glass doors of the gallery, you were quickly met with a gust of wind blowing in your face. It was quiet and lonely unlike inside where it was jam-packed with people. You were just slowly getting used to the serene atmosphere when you heard the gallery doors behind you open once again.

As you looked to check who it was, you started to feel that the amount of wind blowing in your face was useless. Your breath was stuck on your throat. The man who exited the halls had your mouth left hanging. You want to think you were hallucinating but you've been blinking enough to know that this was real.

Park Jongseong.

Just like you, he stood completely still; he was huffing his chest, probably catching his breath from a quick run outside. Jay saw you from the gallery balcony looking at the oil canvas that he presented for his midterms. He didn't want to believe it at first but after a few seconds, he was sure. It was you. The girl he grew fond of after his trip last summer.

"Y/N...."

You didn't know how to act. You didn't know what to say. What were you supposed to do? Run up to him? Give him a hug? Tell him you missed him? Or were you supposed to walk away? Show him how embarrassed you felt after being left hanging?

All of these questions were running through your head but one thing was clear in Jay’s head.

He had to explain.

"I didn't expect to see you here" Jaycontinued to say as he slowly walked over to the girl. His voice was hushed and gentle, but it was still enough to have your heart racing. "Same here" You managed to reply.

He was finally standing in front of you. The distance felt awkward yet so familiar. "I-uh...." Jay began to stutter. "Uhm... What are you doing here?"

"A friend asked me to come with her" He nodded in reply. "Where is she?"

"With her boyfriend"

"So you're all alone now?"

"Wouldn't be the first time"

You saw his mouth shut tight. 

It was quiet. No one spoke. You've gotten used to silence whenever you were with Jay during your time in Barcelona, but somehow this felt different. It wasn't a comfortable silence; it felt like someone wanted to fill the void with words.

"I'm sorry" You heard him say. You never prepared yourself to have this talk; nonetheless right at this moment. "I had no other excuse for not calling you other than I was afraid"

"Jay..."

"I ignored you when you must have waited for my text and I will forever regret being so scared to do it because I wasn't sure whether whatever happened between us was real or just a spur in the moment of loneliness" 

You tried to avoid his deep gaze but they reeled you no matter what. "But after weeks, the feelings were still there and I didn't know how I was going to explain how it took so long to call you so I just left it at that..."

"And when I saw you, It's like someone inside of me told me that maybe leaving it all in Barcelona wasn't our last chance.That maybe, just maybe, I could make this right; stop being so afraid of what I feel."

"Where are you going with this Jay?"

He stepped closer.

"I made a mistake. I didn't call because I was afraid and thinking that all of it was just because I felt lonely. But I don't want to be that Jay anymore. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I want to be the Jay that would be there for you, even outside of Barcelona. I don't know if our meeting was just a coincidence or a twist of fate, but I'll take them any day because I had the greatest opportunity of meeting you again."

And it was like, at that moment, you forgot all the words and have lost the ability to speak because right after he said that you couldn't help but stare at him.

"That is...if you want to of course...I don't want to force you or-"

"Jay.."

He stopped talking and looked at you.

“What you did really hurt me, you know that right?” You started off. “I know. And I don’t want to make any excuses. I would do anything for your forgiveness.”

You took a deep breath. 

“Everything is just so sudden. One minute you disappear from the face of the earth and now you’re in front of me, asking me for a chance…Do you know how insane this sounds?” 

He gulped and looked down on his feet.

“But I would be a fool to let you get away another time.”

“So what you’re saying is-”

“Coincidence. Fate. Whatever it is, I wouldn’t be so afraid to try things with you.”

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

The more things change, the more they stay the same. For instance, The Ninth Inspector premiere ‘Lily’, in which a wheelie bin that swallowed Minnie farted.

Seems Rachelle D. Tavies hasn’t moved past the toilet-humour stage yet.

[fridaynightmassacre]

Alright I’ll bite

Would you be willing to write something about Simon with a mommy kink I feel like he’d end up saying it on accident in the middle of having sex or something and die of embarrassment immediately afterwards💀

anon I love you so much. mommy kink havers rise up

I've decided to do this as hcs as well and if u want a fic then I'll write it out for you!♡

I definitely feel like it would be like when you're riding him. idk it'd take a drastic scenario to open simon up to pegging so riding it is

he's crying and you stop mid. thrust? and you're like "woah hey simon you alright?"

and he whines out "please don't stop mommy"

you're into it.

you immediately start up again fucking like three times as hard you are milking this man

but it hits him what he said

mexican alien corpse.png

he's like grabbing at your hips trying to get you to stop and being like "I didn't mean that!"

you cut it out because you know he's literally trying to get you to stop

and you're just staring at each other. dick still in you

"I'm fine with it you know, If you wanna call me mommy you can. I think it's kinda hot"

simon dies

NO JE DOESNT IM SORRUDBEIE

he kind of just looks to the side, face bright red and mumbles "please keep going"

but you ain't letting shit slide

you stare at him with an eyebrow raise letting him know what you need to get it going again

tears in his EYES he redoes it "please keep going...mommy" so you do what he asks

definitely you abuse the words "good boy" after that

occasionally throwing in "mommy's good boy" to make him like implode

mommy kink simon also has an orgasm control kink

"pl- please! please let me cum mommy-!"

literally won't cum unless you explicitly say he can like you can't even nod you HAVE to say he can cum

afterwards he's gonna need heavy after-care but also, some time alone since it was genuinely embarrassing and borderline humiliating for him

he wouldn't get into the mommy stuff every time you fuck

atleast not for a while, you'd have to give him space to get used to it

but he also doesn't mind when you go mommy mode non sexually. take care of this old geezer

[timetravellibrarian]

Sanji x Reader

Sanji x reader

No gender mentioned. Reminiscing about years together. - Fluff

____________________________________

"Drink?" 

"Same as usual,darlin' ."

Your eyes went to the blonde cook as he unlocked the hundreds of locks  on the fridge. A mechanism to keep Luffy away.

His hair perfectly framed his face, eyes illuminated by the dim light that the curtains let through from outside. You were yet to feel their fluff to your touch once more. Look into those eyes that let you merely a glimpse into his world. Your world.

The Thousand Sunny swayed along with the waves as it was moved by the sea current. It was quiet. Too quiet. This was the second day the crew had docked onto an island. Everyone was out  exploring, shopping, some getting lost. Yet here you two were, guarding the ship. That's what you're telling yourselves anyway.

"Sanji."

"Mm?" He poured your drink into a glass, careful not to spill before placing it back on the counter as though expecting you to probably have a second helping.

"When did it all go wrong?" The feel of the cold beverages cooling down your insides from the days heat gave you a clearer mind. More in tune to every subtle change in his expression and his body language. "How is it still standing?"

"I don't know,my love..."

It felt like only yesterday, back when you had just met at the Baratie.  Laughing alongside Nami, Ussop and Zoro as we made fun of Luffy's unfortunate state. Laughs filling the space around you with a peaceful atmosphere.

The feel of eyes on you was intense, no longer just feeling like the passing glances other guests had done when there was a disruption. You turned,eyes meeting with a blue-eyed waiter with a curly eyebrows, standing in the distance and eyes turning into hearts at the sight of your smile.

The rest became a world of vivid, colourful adventures together.

Strangers.

Friends.

Lovers.

More.

Hands seeking to hold onto each other in large crowds and even just everywhere we went. Bodies flush against each other in the comfort of your bed as you slept. Limbs entangled together in a dance of love in a dimly lit room with flower petals and candlelight as lips as your actions showed more than what your words could convey.

Late nights talking under a blanket of stars. Stories told of lost childhoods and inconsolable tears. Hardships: fights, near death experiences, life itself.

When you thought you could finally have a break and enjoy your time with your beloved at Sabaody, you were more than just proved wrong when you found yourself separated from your crew. From the love of your life.

Two years.

Two whole years.

How could one not change? Adapt to the scraps that life has offered.

Now your eyes met with ones that had changed but somehow remained the same.

"...but I do know one thing." His hand gently lead you off the chair, the both of you standing in the middle of the galley with your head on his shoulder and his eyes staring hopefully at the ring that had promised more for the future. The same hand in his as you swayed around to the sound of everything and nothing.

"It all went wrong when I saw you at the Baratie. Do you remember,my love?" His lips brushed over the shell of your ear as you swayed to your heart's music.

You nodded, still taking him in. His presence, his voice, his scent. Committing everything to memory. So I don't lose my mind when you're gone.

"That was when I knew..." That was when I knew you were my eternity. Funnily enough, that old geezer knew before him.

[intermundia]

im obsessed with the cover of this magazine i found from 1999 which i think looks like the jedi order had some kind of a space tiger beat equivalent full of hot gossip about notable jedi lol

there are a couple good quotes in the article, like here's ewan about the jedi on screen:

"They frown a bit, and they're good fighters. They stand for everything that's good. Nobody frowns better than Liam and l in this movie because we have the Jedi frown. We're just kind of cool geezers."

i genuinely believe that the decision to have the jedi frown was enough to tank their reputation with a large number of fans who found that off-putting and cold. if the jedi had smiled more, i guarantee that the number of fans who say that they were responsible for their own fall would be much smaller.

like think about it!! literally just bc mace windu frowned at anakin in the phantom menace, people malign his character so much. they read it as anger or disdain, but he was just frowning bc the jedi frown. they are serious people!! yoda said it in episode 5: "a jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind."

there is a lot that can be unpacked about frowning, the american norms of smiling and facial performance of emotions, and the discomfort people feel when those norms are violated. as someone with flat affect, i FEEL THAT. i love that the jedi are serious and focused. they're space wizard monks, yk?

the other good quote is about how ewan intentionally tried to match alec guinness's voice:

"in the scene in his house where he shows Luke his laser sword for the first time, he's got such a specific voice — the Obi-Wan voice we know... kind of a fatherly voice."

ewan attempting to sound fatherly did things to those of us who are.. sensitive to such things 😅 it's like catnip for my brain personally lol

[inthefallofasparrow]

CORRESPONDENCE 1031 – THIRD QUADRANT 6 > NEVADA CENTRAL DISPATCH ~092338 RE: ASSESSMENT REPORT - Officer Yuki de Witt

OFFICER’S NOTES: 3Q6 is one of the more efficient quadrants within the Mining Division. All of Sectors 5 through 9 have consistently run at full or double quota for the last season. CIRCUMSTANTIAL: Successful liaison with 3Q6 Board of Captains (Cpt. SPIEGEL, absent) regarding the sudden death of Unit 23 Cpt. SILTSMEAR from 4Q6. Decision pending. Further info required. INCIDENT REPORT: n/a WORKER MORALE: Moderate

~RESPONSE: Received (211)

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 081/- Hey. I know you’ll never read this, but I guess I don’t need you to. Was only supposed to stay a few days, write up my assessment for Dispatch and then leave, but then one of the captains in a neighboring quadrant fucking died. Nothing nefarious mind you, just dust pneumonia. Certainly, more paperwork than it was worth. Sounds like a lot of weird shit’s been going on over there, so one of the captains went over to assist with the transitional period, and I agreed to stay here at Third Q6 to cover until he could be replaced. That was over a month ago now, and I miss the fucking sun! Never thought I’d say that. Had a few reservations about being stuck underground this long as the only woman for miles in any direction, but so far, apart from the odd leer in the mess hall, I have remained “unharassed”. The worst of it would be one particularly cantankerous geezer called Ira Trask, Foreman of 9C, who insisted on addressing me by my first name until I referred him to the NCD handbook on worksite professionalism, and he relented. I assumed he just wanted to be friendly so I'd help get him promoted, but now I think it was something deeper, more sad and nostalgic. There’s a lock on my door at least, and being exceptionally tall seems to give them second thoughts. But as you’d imagine, height’s not generally an advantage in tight, enclosed spaces with low ceilings. Most shovelmen develop a stooped physique during their time in the corps. Fucked if I’m gonna stay that long.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS – LOG 94/- Decided if I have to be stuck down here in Satan’s ass crack, twiddling my thumbs, I might as well spend the time processing some individual Worker Profiles. The shovelmen generally alternate between reticent, awkward, sullen or befuddled by the concept of being personally assessed, but if me doing their interview gets them a few minutes to slack off their shifts, they’re happy enough for the distraction. Foreman Trask is displeased by the interruption, but he is welcome to sit on it.

Names seem to be taboo here. I know all the workers’ names of course, because it’s on their file, but that really freaks them out and there’s no point in using them. Share anything of your backstory with your fellow shovelmen, anything that they can tie back to you, and that’s a power they now hold over you. It's like some kind of deep occult shit, but for fucking miners. Everyone gets a new name here, bestowed upon you by your peers. And you only get that so you can tell whose shovel you’re holding.

Met a greenie from Unit 9A named Theodore today. The others call him ‘Mouse’ which he seems to prefer. Whether it’s for his demeanor, his silky brown hair, or, I don’t know, maybe he just likes cheese, he won’t answer to anything else despite having only been here two months. I asked him and a few others what they knew about the late Captain from 4Q6. Common sentiment seems to be that he was mad as a balloon.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 113/- Had a dream about the swing mom never built us. The big tire swing that wasn’t in the apple orchard. I know you don’t remember it, because, well, it never existed, but I feel like I’ve mentioned it before. Anyway, in the dream, I was swinging in the orchard at night time. And the sky was so pitch black, because there weren’t any stars at all. Just a void. Like, the dream was set after the sun had just died, and there was nothing left. Or maybe it wasn’t night. Maybe the orchard was inside a cave. It doesn’t matter. So, the swing was just a regular car tire, but then as I swung higher, I looked down and it was suddenly bigger. Stretching out to the size of a tractor tire. Or something off a monster truck. Then, I swung higher, and the tire grew again, too big for any actual vehicle, and now I could easily fit inside the trough of the tire itself and lie in it like a big hammock. But I couldn’t do that, because the trough was full of apples. Hundreds of these squishy brown apples in various states of decay. And the apples were growing too. Larger and larger, bustling and toppling over each other until they were the size of bowling balls, and then beach balls, and I was sort of half-drowning, half-swimming in these apples. And then I realized. They weren’t growing. I was shrinking. So, I climbed inside of an apple where the pip should be, because I knew deep down that was the logical place to go to die, and then I woke up. I’m pretty sure I know what it means, even if you don’t.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS – LOG 115/- Random insights gleaned from Unit 9 Review a.k.a. ‘Operation: Peanut Gallery’:

Shovelman ‘Wiles’ - Appears to be the closest thing Sector 9 has to a medic. At least, he says he knows how to saw a man’s leg off without killing him, which is good enough here apparently. I didn’t ask for specifics. There is a constant film of dust covering his glasses, which he seems unaware of.

Shovelman ‘Twoshort’- Tried to convince me it’s common practice for the men to eat handfuls of dirt as a snack, given it’s more nutritious than whatever they were being served in the mess hall. I offered to immediately lodge a formal complaint with Captain Spiegel and the Food Prep team on his behalf, and he backpedaled comically fast, and then tripped on his way out because his foot was asleep.

Shovelman ‘Basher’ – Built like a shuttle truck and functionally deaf after an incident with a stick of dynamite last year. Uses a form of abridged sign language that he and a few others in his unit invented specifically for him. Extremely introverted at first until Wiles came to interpret for me, then he wouldn't shut up.

Shovelman ‘Blessed’ - Recently discovered an injured bat, which he has taken it upon himself to nurse back to health against NCD regulation 58N. He also appears to be deathly allergic to said bat, as his face and hands had swollen incredibly within minutes of handling the thing. A persistent sneezing has overtaken him, but apparently that’s normal and unrelated to the bat. Also allergic to dirt?

Regardless, get me the fuck out of here. Yuk