#specifically in the book because her book self is so wonderful to me

[leavemetoexist]

I do believe fictional characters can fix me with their own mental decline.

[borathae]

If I Was Your Boyfriend

"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie

Wordcount: 10.5k

a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛

The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.

“Kook, please help me.”

Jungkook sits up straight.

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”

“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.

“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”

“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”

“Yes. Hurry please.”

“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”

“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.

Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.

“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.

You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this. 

But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.

The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.

Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch. 

“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.

You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before. 

“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.

“Worse.”

“Worse?”

“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.

“What?” you stress.

“You give me a heart attack for that?”

“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”

Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”

“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.

God, Jungkook is so done for. 

“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.

“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.

Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this. 

“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.

“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”

“Maybe it’s already gone.”

“No, it was-” 

The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.

“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.

Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him. 

Act cool. Act cool. Act cool. 

He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head. 

“There, there you big baby”, he teases.

“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.

He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.

Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!

What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.

“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.

ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!

What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?

“Please kill it.”

“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.

Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. 

You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. 

“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.

“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”

He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up. 

Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.

“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.

You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?” 

“Perfect.” 

Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.

“Careful now”, you comment.

“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him. 

“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.

Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.

“Gotcha.”

“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”

Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.

“Dead.”

“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”

“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”

“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.

He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”

He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom. 

Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl. 

One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you. 

One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.

One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then. 

He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.

Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.

Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.  

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.

Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right. 

He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.

You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.

“Is it gone?” you ask him.

“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”

“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”

He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”

“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”

“Yeah, I can drink that.”

Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.

“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”

Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.

“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”

“That sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”

Jungkook laughs softly.

“What? Are you laughing at me?”

“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”

“I do. Awful things, seriously.”

He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.

“Why did you call me?”

“Why not?”

“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.

“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”

Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.

“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.

“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.

“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”

Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.

Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him. 

“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.

“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.

You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.

“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.

“Working out.”

“Really? At this time?”

“That’s when I get energised.”

“Of course you do. What were you doing?”

“Just stuff on the floor.”

“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”

“Yeah and sit ups.”

“That’s cool.” 

He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.) 

He closes the cupboard and turns. 

“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares. 

“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”

He doesn’t want to leave.

“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Really?”

He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.

“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.

His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer. 

“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.

“Yeah, please.”

Yay! Yay! Yay!

“I know I sound so stupid.”

“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”

You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.

He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.

“No bugs”, he comments.

“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”

You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.

You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow. 

“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”

“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”

“You’re seriously my hero.”

Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently. 

“Hey, check this out”, he says.

“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.

“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.

You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.

Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.

“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”

You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.

“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.

“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.

He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?

“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck. 

He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.” 

You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful. 

“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.

“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look. 

“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?

Your smile falls.

“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up. 

Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?

Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.

Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.

There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.

Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.

“What?”

“You uhm…”

“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”

His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.

“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.

“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.

“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”

“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.

“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”

“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.

Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.

“I think I should go”, he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.

His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.

You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.

“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.

“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.

“What?”

You are both dragging out the inevitable. 

“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”

Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.

“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.

“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.

“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”

“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.

“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”

Should he do it? Should he be reckless?

You step back, now standing in your apartment.

Do it! Open, mouth!

“Text me once you’re home, okay?”

“Okay.”

No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!

“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Tell her! Fucking tell her!

The door closes.

Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.

Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.

Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.

“Hello?” he picks up hastily.

“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”

The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.

“I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?” 

“Of course, what’s up?”

“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”

“No uhm, it’s fine.”

“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”

“Of course, I would. Today?”

“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”

You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.

“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!

“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”

“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”

“See you later. Good luck at work.” 

“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”

Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.

“Bye.” He says.

The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as  squeaky giggles. 

He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.

“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.

You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.

Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him. 

You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.

And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.

Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome. 

His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you! 

He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.

“Hey there”, he says.

“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug. 

Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow. 

“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.

“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”

He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Sunflowers? For me?”

“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”

“You did?”

You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.

“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”

“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.” 

“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”

“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?” 

You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.

“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”

“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”

“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”

“I can make them for you again.”

“Really?” 

He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”

“I should be free on Saturday.”

“Nice, then you’ll come over.”

You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning. 

A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“I woke up like two hours ago.”

You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”

“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.

“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”

“Is work stressful?”

“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”

“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”

You look at him. 

“I will, thank you.”

In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards. 

Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day. 

“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain. 

You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”

“Yes, it fits you really well.” 

“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.

Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again. 

You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”

“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!

“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.

“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”

“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice. 

“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”

“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.

“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned. 

There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.

“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”

He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”

“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket. 

Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you. 

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”

“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.” 

He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never. 

He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.

“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”

He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.

“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”

He laughs, you do as well.

“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”

You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options. 

“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”

“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.

Jungkook makes you laugh with it.

“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him. 

Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.

“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again. 

Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why. 

You grab the cart and push it.

“I think I have everything I need. You?”

“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.

You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.

“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.

“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”

“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.

“It’s fine. I have money.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m paying.”

Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.

“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”

You chuckle, “deal.” 

You and he walk together.

“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”

“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”

“Why?”

Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish. 

“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”

“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”

Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat. 

“I guess am.”

You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush. 

Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling. 

The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.

You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.

He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.

“Yeah?” You look at him.

He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness. 

“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”

Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.

You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.

“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.

“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head. 

“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”

You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”

Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad. 

“Ah, I see.” He gulps.

“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.” 

Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.

“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.

“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”

“You have a boy?”

“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”

“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”

“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”

Jungkook bites back tears.

“I see.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”

No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No. 

“Please.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.

“Please what?”

You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away. 

You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point. 

“Please what?” you repeat the question.

“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”

Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.

“Okay?”

“Mhm yeah.”

His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.

He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.

He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.

He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.

You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.

“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.

“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”

“It’s on me, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.

“What do you want?”

“I messed up before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”

“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”

“Don’t date other boys.”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.

“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.

“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”

“Huh?”

“Ah no, wait.”  He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”

“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”

You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.

“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.

“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.

Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.

“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”

“Seriously?”

You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.  

“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.

“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”

Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.

“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.

“Yeah, you-”

“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”

Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.

“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”

“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”

“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”

“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”

Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?

“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”

“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.

“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.

“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.

Jungkook and you exchange a look. 

“No I…”

Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.

“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”

“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ll still fucking punch you.”

“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.

“Shut up, ___.”

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.

“Or what?”

“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”

Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.

“What are you doing?” he asks confused.

“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might. 

Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving. 

“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”

Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.

Suho stumbles and whips around.

“You-”

Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”

Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.

“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.

Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.

“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”

“I mean, okay.”

Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.

A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.

“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”

“Would you have done it if you liked him?”

“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”

“What?!”

You look at Jungkook with big eyes.

“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.

Holy fuck. Suho was right.

He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.

“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“Scared of what?”

“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”

“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”

“What?”

Jungkook gulps. 

You touch his chest.

“Kook, what?”

“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”

“Are you serious?” 

Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”

“I’m just happy. So happy.”

“You are?”

“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.

He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.

“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.

He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.

“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.

“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.

Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.

“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.

“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Wow, I’m so happy.”

“Me too. So happy.”

You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.

“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”

“Yeah.”

You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”

“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”

“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”

“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.

“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”

He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.

“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.

“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.

“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”

You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”

You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.

“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.

[loriache]

Butch up that Elf: my Marcille manifesto

TBQH, this came into being because the Falin "dragoness" fanart rewired my brain completely. It's sillytimes, but we're going to make a serious argument: trying out being a little butch would Fix Her.

1. Marcille Gender Discomfort

Now, Marcille LOVES feminity. She loves playing dressup, she loves elaborate gowns, she spends her free time going to the spa - the absolute last thing I want is to deny that. However, there's also a definite vibe that this isn't just a preference. Specifically, the way that she pushes Falin towards femininity suggests that she isn't comfortable with gender nonconformity in the people around her.

If this was something she was 100% confident about ("I'm doing this for myself and nobody else!") surely what other people do wouldn't be a big deal? Of course, you can read this as a little bit of solipsism; "what works for me must work for you too! I think this is so cute and would suit you - wouldn't you agree?"

But for the sake of this argument, all I'm trying to suggest is that gender nonconformity (and probably sexual nonconformity... well, frankly, any kind of sexuality at all) is unlikely to be something that's on Marcille's "radar". She hasn't tried out other ways of presenting and decided she doesn't like them. I do think she'd be a very flamboyant butch - "ouji lolita" vibes, you know? It's a whole new set of wardrobe options she could play dress-up in, even.

After the story ends, she starts dressing like her mother in all black, which makes sense - her mother was also a court magician, so she's probably emulating her in order to project confidence and authority. But I can't say I think she should stick with this. Break away and be your own person, Marcille! Try a fancy waistcoat and frilled jacket!

2. Haircut

This is another potential hard sell, I'm sure. The people she loves doing her hair is a cute symbol of their care for her, and her hair is key to her magic - so there's plenty of reason for her to keep it long. But like... think practically. Having someone do your hair every morning, for the whole of her long life, while it gets messier over the day (because she can't remember to keep it neat)... That's got to be such a pain. My hair gets messy when I put a hoodie on. And I have short hair.

It would require her to go through a change of mind, and probably a little more growth in how secure she feels in her relationships, but - the hairdo's a symbol. The more important thing is the relationships themselves. Eventually I think there might be something liberating about cutting it off, even if she might eventually decide to grow it out again.

The lion, her trauma, took something away from her which was really important to her. The people around her are able to make that easier, and make up for it, and soften that loss, but... Mithrun isn't the person he was before, you know? He's a new person. The relationship he has with his brother is new, and I don't know if it's one that the person he was before could have had. If Falin hadn't died, they wouldn't have gone on that wonderful adventure! They wouldn't have met Senshi or saved Izutsumi and Laios and Marcille wouldn't have gotten so close. So I think it's totally congruent with the themes of the story that the burning away of this part of Marcille's self might eventually create the potential for new growth in a new direction, not clinging onto the parts that are gone.

This also isn't totally out of the norm for elven mages - both Otta and Flamela have short hair. Otta is canonically butch, and potentially Flamela reads that way to elves too, but the point is it clearly is possible to be an accomplished mage without long hair.

3. Desiring (to be) a chivalrous prince

Marcille's succubus is clearly General Halleus from her favourite book series, the Daltian Clan. The fact that this is her ideal man.... it certainly plays into readings of her as Not Straight. But at least, this conveys the way her conception of sex and romance is strongly idealised, dissociated from the bodily and from physical desire.

There are many ways to interpret that, including thinking about what types of desire this fixation is obstructing because she is not comfortable with it, but I am going to focus here on what this desire does signify. She likes the trappings of courtly romance, and is clearly comfortable putting herself in the role of the princess, being taken away on a white horse by a noble (but tormented; eyepatch has "death" on it lmao) prince. (Though I think he's actually the token male lead who isn't royalty; he's a General. There's always one in Romfan, lmao. IYKYK)

A kiss on the hand - this is so chaste, I think it's clear it's more about desire to play a role in a dynamic than it is about desire in a physical sense. There is undoubtedly a big part of Marcille that wants to be a beloved and chased-after princess, but I think it isn't at all impossible that she'd also enjoy being the powerful, cool, and chivalrous "prince" to someone (a pretty girl, perhaps) who needs her protection.

This is a little silly, because it's clearly just aping the shoujo artstyle that articulates basically the same idea as her succubus, that Marcille is attached to highly abstracted and idealised romantic (and Romantic) tropes and ideas. But the imaginary "successful" Marcille from chapter 4 looks quite similar to her succubus. (Another thing I noticed is that in the fantasy she has sharp ears... like full elves have. Despite what she says, I think the cultural messaging that this trait is "attractive" and hers are inferior got to her at least a bit. 😥)

Also, the way that she treats Falin, scolding her indulgently, trying to look after her and wanting to be looked up to and respected by her... that aligns more with the "masculine" role in the trope that her succubus is referencing. "What are we going to do with you...?" I can imagine her saying this to Falin, word for word. Whereas, if anyone real started talking down to her, even affectionately, I don't think she'd like it, given the negative way she reacts when people don't respect her or her skills. Especially after canon, given the way the Winged Lion was treating her.

Her attitude to Falin is partially down to her reluctance to acknowledge Falin as an adult, who is independent and can grow beyond her and leave her behind. But I think even as they move on from that unhealthy dynamic, Marcille is still going to get pleasure from feeling capable, reliable, able to look after and protect Falin. She'd like to pull the chair out for her in a restaurant on a date, you know?

4. Conclusion

Even after the growth she goes through during the story, there are parts of Marcille's character that are very much obstructed. Romance, sexuality, and gender, feel like one of those to me. The way that her discomfort with the messy origins of food betrayed a deeper, more significant discomfort with the cycles of life and death.

Much in the same way, I'd argue that the simplified, idealistic, and safely fantastical way that she views romance, as well as her very "safe" gender presentation and tendency to push it onto others as well, suggest an underlying discomfort in her own gender and sexuality. The character growth she goes through leaves her in a place where it may be possible to safely re-evaluate her relationship with Falin, as well as her choice of clothing and hairstyle, both things that go through a change at the end of the manga. Neither, I think, reach a sustainable stopping point that we see - there will be a point when it's more servants doing her hair than friends, just out of practicality, because they're all going to be so, so busy. The black clothing to copy her mum is cute, but once she gets some more self-confidence in her own skills as a court magician, I think she'll move on from it. And... who knows what direction her relationship with Falin will develop, over the years? I'm rooting for them, anyway.

In all those cases, I think moving outside of the things she's done before, into something really different from the things that are "safe" and expected, will be the most rewarding path for her. Like in the dungeon, things that she would initially reject were actually able to sustain her and broaden her tastes. She loves dressing up, looking after people, and "princely romance". So I say: Butch Marcille! It'll be good for her!!

[thistlecatfics]

Talking about Incest in Public

(both the painful traumatic kind and the hot fictional kind)

As it turns out, lots of the people who read and write taboo fiction have survived some deeply fucked up shit. After talking about incest with other survivors on the Moon, Sun & Stars discord and answering questions, I decided to share more about my experiences and the things that helped me survive and the things that helped me heal, because there are a lot of us, and a lot of us feel very alone, and maybe there are other people who aren’t incest survivors but who might want to know more to better support the survivors in their life.  

–

Incest is not just a sexual act between two family members -- it's a larger system of absence of boundaries within a family, and it's almost always part of multiple incestuous dynamics, even if only one might be the obvious or explicit dynamic. 

If you’re an incest survivor, you’re almost certainly not the only one in your family. 

-

“The true characteristics and dimensions of incestuous abuse have been masked by the taboo and silence that have surrounded its occurrence. Recent research demonstrates that incest occurs regularly in our society, perpetrated by individuals who, for the most part, would otherwise be regarded as fairly normal. The taboo on incestuous relations is a deterrent to some would-be perpetrators but not to others. The taboo contradicts the reality of incest prevalence, a fact which led Armstrong (1978) to comment that th taboo has been on the open discussion of incest and not on its perpetration.”

-Christine Courtois, “Healing the Incest Wound: Adult Survivors in Therapy” 

–

To use my family as an example - 

My (similarly aged) brother did sexual things to me as a kid, and I had a range of reactions to it including pleasure and enjoyment. And confusion. And fear. I do not think he is bad or even what he did was bad. I think we were both two kids who existed in a family with incestuous dynamics, and we were both shaped by those dynamics and trying our best to survive. 

From a young age, I existed as a physical comfort object to my mom (when she was sad she'd get into my bed to hold me until she felt better while I dissociated), and I took on the idea that my role in the family was for my body to be used to make other people feel good. The sexual behavior by my brother felt like an extension of how my mom held me. 

My mother was the victim of incest from her uncle, and her parents sided with her uncle over her when she spoke out about it (even after he was facing legal consequences for his behavior with kids outside of the family) (even after he fled the country). She didn't know how to emotionally regulate herself, and I don't think she had (or has) the capacity to understand a child's need for physical autonomy and boundaries because her own were never respected. 

There were other incestuous behaviors and dynamics within my family which I'm continuously discovering and unpacking. I think my mom’s uncle abused my grandmother too but I’ll never know for sure. It’s deeply uncomfortable to look back on a happy family story or a childhood nickname and see something sinister underneath and wonder if you’re being paranoid or if it’s actually that bad.  

–

Things that have helped: 

Long term relational therapy (5+ years). EMDR. Adopting a cat. Adopting more cats. Antidepressants. Reading about incest (realistic, terrifying, academic). Reading about incest (fictional, hot, amateur). Being a competitive athlete. Getting a graduate degree. Going on long walks late at night. Telling my family I had Covid so I could skip a family vacation. 

These books specifically: Healing the Incest Wound by Christine Courtois, The Myth of Normal, Dissociation Made Simple, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, The Narcissistic Family Unit, Clementine Morrigan’s writing x1000. 

The protector parts: Eating disorder. Self harm. Drinking. Perfectionism. Depression. Suicidal ideation. I’m grateful to these imperfect protectors I’ve leaned on over the years. 

Things that have not helped: 

You will be shocked to hear that people on the internet yelling about how people who find fictional incest hot are disgusting and bad and dangerous did NOT in fact help me unlearn the belief that experiencing incest made me disgusting and bad and dangerous. Luckily, I’m built of spite. But it certainly did not help. 

(If I think about my vulnerable pre-teen/teen self reading those things, I become deeply angry. How dare you hurt her in the name of protection.)

- I don’t cater to all these vipers Dressed in empath’s clothing God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see

-Taylor Swift, But Daddy I Love Him

-

After I discovered fanfiction in middle school, and then after I realized that there was a world beyond OFC/Draco Malfoy fic, I read a lot of Blackcest. I devoured any I could find, hopping through rec lists on LiveJournal. 

Reading Blackcest fics, first Bellatrix/Sirius then Sirius/Regulus mostly, allowed me to see my experiences reflected. Those fics gave me a way to contextualize my family and my role in it. I hate the expectation that kids who experience bad things should go to a safe trusted adult rather than find art that romanticizes their experience. The whole point is that there isn’t a safe trusted adult. The whole point is that I needed the art. I got to hold the romanticized narrative until I got far enough away that I could put it away in a box until I had enough therapy that I could safely open the box and build a new, more honest story. 

Obviously plenty of people love incest smut and fic and art. It’s taboo! It’s angsty! It’s a classic! Probably most of those people don’t have direct personal experience with incest in their families. I’m glad they read and write fics too. 

But for me – have you ever experienced something you believe so strongly you will never be able to say aloud? That any time you see your secret referenced it’s in shock and disgust and revulsion? You can pretend – you’re very good at pretending – but you know it’s real, and you know it’s your secret you’ll hold onto for the rest of your life while the world reminds you how disgusting you are? 

Then you find that people are writing about what you experienced in a thousand variations that all contain some nugget of your truth.

I cannot express in words how important it was that I found those stories at that time. 

I never commented on a single fic. I never made a single account on any of the sites I read fanfiction on. I clicked the “yes I’m 18” box without hesitation every time. I wish I could go back in time and have my adult self articulate the enormity of my gratitude for each and every author who helped save me whose work exists on sites I can only revisit with the Wayback Machine. 

I understand why people might feel horrified at the idea of a 11-12 year old reading smutty incest Harry Potter fanfic. People aren’t wrong for feeling that way. 

That said, I truly don’t care what people who aren’t incest survivors think.

I’m so proud of that child for finding a way to survive. She might have hated herself, might have fantasized about death, but she survived and kept the truth of her experience wrapped up in a fictional world where it could be safe to explore and kept it there until years and years of therapy made it possible to engage with it in reality. 

- I’m a real tough kid I can handle my shit They said, babe, you got to fake it till you make it And I did

-Taylor Swift, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart -

No one is writing about incest the way Clementine Morrigan is right now. I’m so grateful for her. I’m not sure this little tumblr post would exist without her essay series. 

"Incest functions as a spell of unreality. A structure of nothingness. A completely normal and unremarkable family life in which something unnameable is ominously and terrifyingly wrong. You know in the summer when you can see the heat making the air go squiggly? Imagine those squiggles as an indication that in the seeming nothingness, there is something there. Incest is like that. Subtle, pervasive, unthinkable, unnameable. But present, felt.

As a teenager I came up with this metaphor: Imagine you are in a house full of bugs. There are bugs crawling all over all the walls and all the furniture and in your food and even on the fork you are lifting to your mouth. And you feel disgusted, you feel like something is really wrong. But your whole family is acting completely normal, laughing and eating and talking as bugs crawl over their faces and into their mouths. When you tell them you think there are bugs in your food your family says it’s just pepper and not to worry about it.

There is no way to talk about incest without feeling that you are lying. This is because incest lives in the realm of unreality and everything in the realm of unreality cannot be thought or said or named. When you speak of things that happen in the realm of unreality it will always feel like a lie and be treated like a lie. You are breaking the fundamental rule. You are not allowed to talk about what goes on in the realm of unreality because it isn’t real."

Read more and pay for her writing if you can on her substack.

-

Without a doubt, the not-explicitly-sexual incest from my mom fucked me up more than the explicitly sexual incest from my brother, but I only feel confident claiming the incest survivor label because sexual stuff was done to me by a family member, and I still feel like I’m lying sometimes because it wasn't bad enough to count. 

I’m a literal mental health clinician who can map out various incestuous dynamics within my family and who has clear memories of a family member doing sexual stuff to my child body, and I still feel like I’m lying. 

I believe you if you feel like a liar because I bet you do. I believe you if the incest never included anything directly physical. I believe you if you enjoyed it. I believe you if you don’t remember but feel like it’s true. 

I love us. 

If we’re monsters, I love our courageous monstrosity.

If we’re liars, I love the way we make up stories to survive when reality is impossible. 

If we’re an uncomfortable truth, good. 

-

It still impacts me. I’m not over it. 

It’s very difficult for me to imagine love that does not include violation. To be loved and to be allowed to maintain a self. 

But I’m open to learning otherwise, and that openness is new. 

-

I was so, so good at living in unreality. I could make myself perfect, such a flawless object until I couldn’t think of anything except killing myself, but even then I still maintained the image of perfection my family expected. 

It’s cool I never actually killed myself. 

I find it hard to be around my family now. There are advantages of living in unreality. I drink a lot more when I’m around my family than I ever did before, but I don’t think about killing myself nearly as much. Reality is worth it. Being able to exist as a person is worth it. 

- I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

-Sylvia Plath

- I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. (I insist.)

It didn’t kill me then. It’s not going to kill me now. (I remind myself.) 

My life is worth living, and there are fights worth fighting, and it is undeniably true the world is full of horror, but it is good to write and create and be alive, and it is good to try. I’m a little afraid to post this, but the fear and shame isn’t mine to hold, and I never should have been the one holding it. 

Consider this a thank you note sent out to the universe in the hopes the sentiment echoes towards those authors who saved me then and to all the writers who are saving people now. Your art matters. No matter how weird or niche or dismissed or hated it is. It matters. 

Thank you.

[cillianhead]

Strawberry Syrup || Cillian Murphy

summary: A hot day by the pool with your desperate boyfriend <3

Warnings: SMUT!! Dubcon Themes, Unprotected P in V, oral (f receiving), fingering, sex in the pool, public sex, Daddy kink, Food Play (LISTEN.... DON'T ACTUALLY DO THIS STUFF BC ITS UNSANITARY!! (it could give you a UTI or a yeast infection or anything like that D: ), sorta switch!Cillian, squirting, Adult content!! (some sorta self insert bits that are a bit toooooo personal but it's just like a mention of reader having tattoos and stuff hehe) (Age Gap mentions, Cillian is older, Reader is in her mid 20s and he's in his mid 30s) (Cillian is a horndog in this basically)

Short fic since I haven't uploaded anything in a while.

((also stuff in italics... is sort of like memories or something (so stuff in italics isn't necessarily related to the plot... but it's gonna be mixed throughout the whole fic so just a reminder the stuff that is ITALICISED is all stuff that's either "thoughts" or "memories of the past"))

(also currency is talked about and I used the words "dollars" and "cents" because that's just what I'm used to saying? But I know there's like pounds and all the other currencies there are KDSKDSKD)

18+ MINORS DNI

Cillian had been incredibly needy lately, following you everywhere you went like a lost puppy. He just wanted your attention even though he got plenty of it. Well... maybe not this past week. Cillian and you went at it like rabbits, like at least three times a day everyday kind of thing. But you wondered how long it would take for him to get on his knees and beg after getting denied over and over and over again for you to give him (and specifically his raging boner) any sort of attention. You were surprised you had made it even to the seven-day mark. But here you were.

Cillian had turned into a total cranky mess. And you were loving it. Of course, he could get himself off... that's what made it so good, every morning you'd pretend you're asleep while you listened to the sound of him whimpering and whining like a bitch in heat and fisting his cock as he got off to the sight of you 'sleeping'.

And fuck the sweltering summer air didn't help. The aircon was broken and you'd gone through a dozen fans, trying to blow away the hot air. But the heat was making Cillian feel stir-crazy. He had to have you. No matter how hot it was, no matter how sweaty or dehydrated, he had to have you right fucking now.

He had done about a thousand fucking laps of his substantially large swimming pool, trying to work his pent-up frustration and energy out but it only did so well. He had swam until his legs were cramped up, and his eyes stung from the chlorine, leading them to be bloodshot and somehow miraculously making his eyes even bluer (bluer than the aquamarine pool). And there you lie. In that bikini you know is too tight. And he thinks to himself 'Why do you even bother to be in your bikini when it's just the two of us and I can fucking see your entire pussy through that thing anyway?'. You're reading some romance novel, and you're wet but not from the pool. Cillian is rock hard in his soaking and tight swimming shorts, the head of his cock is barely concealed from peaking out. He's dripping wet and he's angry.

"Why de fuck have you been denying me of sex for the past.... 7 days and 15 hours or however de fuck long it's been, girl?" He huffed, sitting down and carelessly grabbing your book (which was fucking printed and published in the 70s... IT CAN'T HANDLE THE WATER) and tossing it to the side, onto the wet ground. You gasp and reach out to grab your book that's been smashed in like a yam and wet and torn apart but Cillian grabs you by your forearms, brushing your new fresh tattoo (the reason you weren't swimming) and making you hiss.

"Ow... why would you do that, Cillian?" You scolded, wriggling in his hold. But you knew what was happening... he was finally taking charge. The thing you loved most about Cillian was how he was so giving and so desperate to please you at all times, like an obedient dog. He was madly in love with you and submissive to your demands, anything you wanted, you'd get. And you'd boss him around in the bedroom but that was fine because Cillian was in love with your pussy too, and whatever it took to get it, he'd do it... even if he had to dress up as a clown to do so. But he was also controlling when he got it most of the time. Though he was nearing 35, he was still like a teenager when it came to you. Dick was hard at just the sight of you and he immediately would need your hand or your mouth (if he was lucky) or even your tight pussy that always wrapped around him so perfectly. It didn't matter where you were... if he was driving, he'd get it... if you were in a public park on a Sunday night, he'd get it... if you were in a grocery store on a Black Friday sale (he'd get it), waiting in line as he ground himself into your ass until he came in his pants... It looked like he was just hugging you from behind. But you had to stand there in horror as he did so because you couldn't make a scene.

"Answer me question... babe..." He whispered as he pressed you down into the softly cushioned sunbathing chair. You were both being cooked in the sun but you were both lathered in sunscreen so it was fine. Oh, the horror on Cillian's face as he watched slather the white creamy liquid over your tits and rubbed the lotion in so incredibly sexually. You didn't even let him touch your tits for this whole week, he was suffering. But Cillian didn't care that his back was already beginning to sunburn, he fucking needed you now and honestly he was so pussy-hungry that he didn't care what it takes to get his dick inside of you. In his eyes you were the lamb and he was the depraved wolf, drooling at the sight of your trembling body beneath him. Ready to be covered in your blood.

"I just..." You shook your head and smiled to yourself, laughing out air as you bit your lip. "I just thought maybe I was letting you have it too much... you were becoming too spoiled..."

"What does that even mean?" He huffed and leaned in, resting his full body weight on top of you so you couldn't move and his hips were aligned with yours so his hard cock could press upright against your nice and warm core. Though still through his swimmers and your thin little bikini thong.

"F-Fuck..." You whimpered, honestly, you had been suffering too... even your vibrator couldn't do it for you, and just the mere pressure of his thick cock up against you... you felt like you could cum. You arched your back involuntarily. "I just... fuck... thought maybe we needed a tolerance break?"

"A fuckin' tolerance break... I'm not a drug darlin' and neither are you, baby you're just depriving yourself of what you need..." He growled right into the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your neck. "Let me in..." He was a bit drunk and horribly depraved and his voice was like gravel.

"Beg for it," You whispered out and Cillian groaned, this time fully collapsing in on you and laying his head in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips back and forth on yours. He humped you lazily and you allowed it, enjoying the whines he was making and the pleasure that was pulsing within you.

"Please... fucking hell... please..." He moaned with a cry. "I need you so bad... my hand won't do... it just won't do... please Y/N... please baby... let me fuck you... please... let me at least get a taste of ya once again..."

"Show me how good you can go down on me baby and I'll see if you're good enough to put your dick in me..." You hummed and he sighed as he began kissing you sloppily. "You can leave one mark... Cillian... ONE..."

"Thank you... thank you, sweet girl..." Cillian whined, hands beginning to cup your body cautiously. He was so afraid he was going to do something wrong and suddenly you'd deny him even the pleasure of having your clit in his mouth. But as he kissed down your chest his fingers trembled hesitantly over your bikini top, tits begging to be released. "Can I? Please?"

"Go ahead, Cill..." You hummed with a smug smile on your face. His hands instantly moved at your words of approval, tugging the fabric from off of your nipples and popping it into his mouth with a moan. Cillian's eyes closed as he sighed from his nose, finally satisfied for now. His thumb twiddled with your other nipple, causing you to let out breathy whimpers. "F-Fuck... Cillian..."

"Mmmm..." He groans, slobber dripping from his lips as he continues to rut himself into your hips. Cillian's hair was all messy from when he'd been in the pool, ends curling and falling over his face. He looked so pretty with your tit in his mouth.

"You're all mine..." You whispered, running your thumb along his razor-sharp cheekbone, skin softer than silk. "You're my property aren't you, Cillian?" You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, tugging on the roots of the longer hair that grew there. You pulled his head off of your nipple, his mouth agape and he whines like a brat.

"I'm yours, Y/N..." He huffs, leaning back down to keep sucking but you pulled harder on his neck as if he were a misbehaving kitten. "F-Fuck... I'm your property... darling... all yours... please... I just... I just want to please you..." "I know, honey..." You cooed with a smirk as you reached over to the table beside you and picked a strawberry from the batch and popped it in your mouth, sucking on it suggestively. "That's why you're gonna eat me out like your life depends on it..." You're amused as you watch him scramble to lie flat on his stomach between your legs and he watches as you take off your bikini bottoms and spread your legs open wide. His pupils dilated immediately at the sight.

"I've missed this so much," He whines, his voice breaking as he leans in and kisses your pussy. His eyes flutter close at the little taste of you, his mouth hovering ever so slightly above your cunt, not quite touching. His lips touch you again and as he licks up your pussy he moans and fully presses himself in there, snout buried into your clit as his tongue flickered in and out of your gushing hole.

"O-Oh... that's it..." You arch your back as you push his head further into your warmth. He was completely breathing you in now as your thighs squeezed your head but eventually, you felt two hands grab ahold of your shaky thighs and pin them down side by side until you were spread out. It was concerning how easily he was able to bend and shape you into different positions, molding you like clay. It helped that he was impossibly strong as he manhandled you down into this position, eating you out for his own pleasure, not yours.

You were a writhing mess and you felt embarrassed to admit that you were about to cum. "Fuck you need to slow down... need to slow down a bit for me... Cill..." You whimpered, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear but you didn't care. But he only sped up, devouring you completely.

He was truly eating your pussy like his life depended on it because it did. Nothing else mattered to him but drinking down the sweet juice that your fruit of a pussy gave him. You may not be a drug but he was addicted to your cunt like it was one. Cillian had an obsession with you and he had an obsession with your perfect so-called 'heavenly' pussy. He wrote songs about you, he wrote poems about the euphoria of having your tight walls wrapped around him at all times, even during. Wet ink on wet skin, black ink smeared across your stomach as he wrote words that were coming into his mind, words you had inked on your skin with a tattoo machine later on.

"Cillian..." You whined loudly, your moan was pornographic, and with the way he could feel your heartbeat pounding against his tongue as he swirled it around your clit. His mouth was masterful and precise as you came on his face. He knew how to make you cum in a way no other did. You truly were soulmates. At least that's what he said. The sound of your whiny voice and how incredibly wet your pussy was, he just knew. So he slipped a finger into you and you seized up and cried as your body spasmed with pleasure. Only one finger made it feel like you were being stretched right open, you were always so tight and wet, and yet you could take so much. You knew he knew he had earned it... he had that look in those steel blue eyes, that cheeky look, full of mischief and lust that he knew it was okay for him to slip a finger in without asking because he was preparing you for what was to come.

"Fuck... Fuck... oh my god..." You had such a dirty mouth but you couldn't help the pathetic and inappropriate words or sounds you were making right now. Your consciousness and being were elsewhere as Cillian pushed you over the edge once more into an impending and mind-shattering orgasm. He slipped in a second finger and you mewled as you felt your cunt uncontrollably spasm as it squirted out onto Cillian's face and soaking his face oncemore. It was as if he had dived right into that 2 meters of water, soaking his entire face and chest, some of it even getting in his hair.

"Give it to me, baby girl... that's it..." He mumbled into your quivering pussy, your clit growing numb. One of his hands moved from its other position on keeping your hips in place to your nipples. He knew you so well and he knew all the buttons to push to make it that much better. It was overwhelming.

"O-Okay... Okay... that's enough... please... Cillian... please..." You cry tapping the top of his head impatiently and hesitantly he slipped his fingers from your sticky cunt and sat back up, pulling your legs over his so his crotch was perfectly aligned with your overstimulated pelvis. "Cillian... baby... I just need a moment..."

"Yeah? That's alright, my love," He whispered and he leaned in and kissed you, smearing your lips and face with your own cum. But at this point you were too drunk on your own pleasure to care, his lips to pretty... too irresistable to deny a kiss. That's one thing you hadn't denied him of... your lips. To kiss of course... nothing else. You made out like horny teenagers but you never did anything... barely touching him over his clothes. Just to get him really hot and bothered.

"I love you..." You whispered into his mouth that's dripping with drool and squirt.

"I love you more," He huffed and laid on you, lying his head on one of your tits and sighing happily. He looked over at all the fruit lying on the table that looked almost as delicious as you. "God that looks like good fruit..."

"Yeah..." You ran your fingers along his freckled back, muscles sculpted perfectly over his pointy shoulder blades. "Got them at the store yesterday... erm... they were on sale for like... two dollars and ninety cents or something..." You shrugged heavily as you began running your fingers through his hair.

"Wow... is that all? That's amazing..." He chirped and he raised his head up to look at your pretty face. "Well... did I prove myself to you, my darling girl?" "Y-Yeah... fuck... you really wanna do it right now?" You mumbled as you looked up into his eyes with a gaze full of love. You were still so sensitive from what had just happened, you hadn't cum like that for A WHOLE WEEK. You felt like you just took a dose of ecstasy. "Can we just cuddle for a bit?"

"Hmm...." He sighed, sitting up on the chair now and gazing down at how sticky your pussy looked and then at the strawberries that looked just as ripe and appetizing. He nodded. "Alright... baby... I'll give ya a little break..." He reached over and grabbed a strawberry from the bunch. It was red like the bruise he left on your neck. And as he bit into the juicy strawberry, he thought of you.

"Is it good?" You asked as you sat up a bit on the chair more and reaching out for one yourself.

"So good," He moaned with a mouthful of strawberry syrup and pulp. "Tastes like you."

"What?" You laughed and blushed as you ate your own strawberry. "You're so stupid..." You snickered as you ate.

"It's just the truth," He shrugged, the tops of his shoulders were flushed from the hot sun but the both of you were enjoying the warmth. "I love you... I am so in love with you... I am the luckiest man alive..."

"God shut up..." You rolled your eyes and smiled bashfully at his praising. But he loved it when you played it coy with him, he thought you were so cute. And he thought you could never look more beautiful, sunkissed and warm in the sun with him. Your hair is a mess and your tits are out and still wet from his spit. The straps of your bikini still help to accentuate your features and make you look like a treat he needs to unwrap.

"God I can't wait to put my cock in you..." He whispered as he pressed the tip of a strawberry to your sternum. The cold perked you up a bit as you watched him drag the strawberry down your stomach and onto your recovering pussy. He pressed the ruby red fruit onto your sticky clit and ran it down even further.

"Cillian... what are you doing... don't-" But you were interrupted by the feeling of an intrusion. He pressed the tip of the rather large and bulbous strawberry into your cunt, soaking it in your ambrosia-like cum. "Oh... Oh my god..." He pressed it in slightly deeper until he was only clutching at the stem and then he pulled it out intact and popped the tip of it into his mouth.

"Mmmm...." He bit into it and pulled it away, the strawberry juice dripping from his lips as he spoke. "Perfect.... so... fucking.... divine..."

You laid back and huffed out. "I can't believe you just did that... oh my god..."

"Did it feel like a cock?" Cillian asked bluntly and with a stupid-cocky grin on his face. "Tell me, Y/N... when you let me put a strawberry in that little cunt of yers... did it feel as good as when I have my dick in ya?" He leaned in and whispered right into your ear as he pressed the open strawberry to your clit and you let out a gasp.

"N-No..." You shook your head and closed your eyes shut. "It didn't... you shouldn't have done that..."

"Tell me how badly you want me inside you..." Cillian was using that voice he knew got to you. That deep and raspy bedroom voice... if he spoke like that to you always... you would commit heinous crimes for him if he told you so. "C'mon... like you said earlier... beg for it... like yer life depends on it..."

You were flustered at the switch in control. You found yourself suddenly helpless to the pleasure that was accumulating within you, a strawberry rubbing your sticky clit in the most perfect rhythm. Cillian was a dirty-minded man when it came to you... and he smirked as he watched you give in to it... you let him get you off with a literal strawberry.

The strawberry juice leaked down your already sopping pussy, making it the perfect treat for Cillian to lean down and make out with your sex and suck up the juice left behind from the fruit. He still feverishly rubbed the half-bitten fruit against your throbbing clit while he licked circles around your hole... where you really needed him.

"Pl-Please... Cillian..." You moaned pathetically, you hated when he made you beg. You let out a bratty huff and rolled your eyes. "Please... I need you..."

"Need me to what?" He smirked as he bit into the strawberry now, one finger inside of you, fingering your g-spot. He was finished with the fruit, mind now fully focused on you as he made you cum all over his fingers, readying you for the stretch of his cock.

"Cillian..." You whined.

"Be a good girl now..."

"Fuck... please... I need you to fuck me... need you to cum in me..." You added that last part with a smirk. You didn't let Cillian cum inside of you always, just to mix it up a little because you knew there was no other feeling out there for him that was like cumming inside of you, it was euphoric for him. You liked playing hard to get. "Please... daddy... put your babies in me?" You reached your hand up and tugged on the chain you had got him for his birthday. And you looked up at him with doe-like eyes that you knew would get him to give in to you and your pleading.

He kissed you instantly and undid his shorts to pull his suffering cock out. It was sensitive and painfully hard and he couldn't wait to bust a load into you. Especially if you were calling him daddy.

"Such a good girl..." He praised as he lined the thick head of his cock up with your pussy. He smeared you with the leaking precum and as he pressed into you, he sighed with pleasure. "I missed being inside you... so much..." Cillian whispered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Please... oh my god..." You arched your back as he stretched you open with his veiny cock. "Daddy...." You cried. "Please... kiss me..."

"Aw... how sweet..." He cooed condescendingly to you as he leaned in and connected your lips but as you opened your mouth he spat right onto your tongue and grabbed ahold of your jaw. "Swallow..." He growled and you did just that and swallowed his spit obediently. "That's right... baby... you belong to me..."

His hips moved and you were deemed speechless as he began fucking you. Your fence only went so high, if someone next door went on their top balcony or even opened their curtains they would see Cillian fucking you like you were in some sort of porno film. You were seeing stars as he rocked his hips in and out of you. It was graceful in the way he moved, like a ballet dancer, every move perfectly choreographed and precise. The tip of his cock was abusing your g-spot repeatedly, to the point you were barely coherent enough to speak. Body limp and mind blank as you were used for all you were good for.

His hands gripped at your hips tightly, rocking you back and forth as he moaned like the slut he was. Cillian was loving every second of this as he thrusted his hips back and forth perfectly spearing you on his cock. You clutched the chair with your left hand and the other left scratch makrs down his poor sunburnt back. But the pain was worth it, the feeling of your warm sticky walls wrapped around him... well... it felt like home. And his eyes rolled into the back of his head as you squeezed around him, he fucked you like an animal, gripping one of your tits in his palm, squeezing it and groaning once more as you clenched around him.

"Daddy.... I'm gonna..." You whined in a high pitch voice, eyebrows knitted together and your tongue hanging heavy on your jaw. "I'm gonna cum... oh my god..." "Cum for me baby, make a mess all over me... please...." He groaned with a sigh as he leaned down and attached his mouth to your other tit, the one he hadn't before. He flexed his hips every time he pressed his cock into you, pressing it deeper in you as he leaked out cum. "I'm gonna cum too..." He huffed, face flushed and sweaty, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Please cum inside me..." You moaned as you threw your head back, your orgasm engulfing you. He did just that, biting your neck as he fucked you full of his seed, balls sticky with a mixture of your arousal and his. "Ooh... feels so good..." "Yeah, baby..." He whimpered and pressed his hot lips to the side of your face, leaving sloppy traces of spit along your cheeks until your lips tangled with his. He made out with you as you rode out your high, your entire body was overflowing with love and the white-hot blinding pleasure. You still felt so full and stretched out on him but then he slowly eased his movements and pulled out, biting his lip. "God..." Cillian gasped, sitting up and looking down at your pussy that now seeped out his cum. "So pretty..."

"Please... hold me..." You pouted, reaching out your heavy arms to have him lie on top of you again. "Need to feel you... daddy..."

Cillian obliged happily, scooping you up in his arms and shifting so you were lying in his lap with your head on his shoulder. He held you and kissed your head. "I love you so much, you know that right?" He whispered into your scalp that he smelled with a smile on his lips.

"I love you more..." You grinned bashfully, running your nose along his collarbone and neck. You just loved the way he smelled. It wasn't his cologne or anything... it was just the way he smelled. You were addicted to it. "That was so good... can't believe we went a whole week without it..."

Cillian snickered and nodded. "Yeah... if you give me a couple of minutes ill be able to go at it again..." He smirked, cheeks rosy as he looked at you fondly.

"God shut up... you sillyhead..." You ruffled his wet hair and kissed the tip of his nose as you two laid there. Eventually you would go inside and he'd sneak himself into your shower where you'd fuck him against the wall while still covered in your strawberry-syrup body wash.

-----

It's summer here and I am dying from the heat and the idea of physically touching anyone right now is so ugh... EW... but Cillian is the only exception of course.

Hope you enjoyed this little fic... I know it's short but I wanted to give you guys something... the third part to Red Eyes and A Pair of New Glasses will be out soon I promise :)...

[balkanradfem]

So I've been looking to read some books about living in nature, written by women, to get an idea of how it goes in practice, and the first book I found was 'The Great Alone' by Hannah Kirstin. It was about a family who decided to move to Alaska and live self-sufficiently, and it was written from the point of view of the daughter, Leni. I did not realize right away that this was a piece of fiction! However I do want to tell you about this book because something very specific happened in it that made me have.. ideas.

Right on the first page, it was spelled out to me clearly that this is a story about domestic violence. The father was drinking, had ptsd from war, sometimes 'blew up', and I was like, oh, I know what that is. Okay, let's see what happens then.

The father decided to move them all to Alaska because a buddy who died in the war left him a cabin there, and he wasn't earning money to pay rent, so Alaska it is. He talked his wife into it, promising that he will 'be better over there', and I'm like yeah sure you will.

I have to say, at the beginning this book was just heavily enabling me. They went over to Alaska and everyone was saying 'you need to prepare for winter immediately', even though it was spring, and they were bewildered. People were coming to help them to build a garden and homesteading infrastructure. And I'm looking at that like hell yeah I'm already 100% introduced to this, I am prepairing my garden from January, as soon as spring hits I am looking for food to can, dry, cure, I'm filling my stash from the moment cherries arrive. I'm certified to live in nature. (I'm not, I'm just entertaining myself with this fiction).

Alaskan winter is long and dangerous, and somehow these folks were already at the end of their food stash by the end of January, which is so early. They were in trouble, had no money, it was cold, Alaskan winter also brings 18 hours of darkness a day, so everyone was bummed and anxious. As you can imagine, the father found himself some alt-right conspiracy theorists to hang out there and drink with, every day they were talking about the government or minorities 'coming for their land' and prepairing to shoot people at the moment's notice, so it's no wonder he became more violent, aggressive and dangerous to his wife and child. He would end up beating his wife, and she would forgive him, and the daughter watching all this felt insane and desperate to save her mother. But there was no help, no police, nobody could even reach them in the deep winter, they had no food, they relied on him to catch something in the forest.

This is where the story got interesting. 

He breaks her nose, and the daughter decides that's enough, takes her mother into the car, and they escape. They crash. Daughter seeks help. They end up in a hospital. Father finds them and cries and promises to never do it again. Mother forgives him, seemingly out of fear that he's going to start killing people if she leaves him. Alaskan folk now know that she is being abused, because of her bruises and broken nose. And something unexpected happens.

One of the first Alaskan characters introduced in the story is Large Marge, a big woman owning a shop where she trades food and other survival goods. She is strong, resourceful, down to earth, incredible, helpful in every possible way. She is our star. Because once the word is out about the abuse, and the domestic violence family is back in the cabin, she comes over. She tells them all to sit the hell down, like she's a parent sorting out her unruly children. She then tells this story:

'I used to be a lawyer. Big city prosecutor. High heels and designer suits. I loved it. And I loved my sister, who married the man of her dreams. Only he turned out to have a few problems. A few quirks. Turned out he drank too much and liked to use my baby sis as a punching bag. I tried everything to get her to leave him, but she refused. Maybe she was scared, maybe she loved him, maybe she was as sick and broken as he was. I know that when I called the police it was worse for her and she begged me not to do it again. I backed off. Biggest mistake of my life. He went after her with a hammer. We had to have a closet-casket funeral. He claimed he'd taken the hammer from her to protect himself. The law isn't kind to battered women. He's still out there. Free. I came up here to get away from all that.“ She looked at the abuser. ''And here you are.''

The tension was insane. Everyone tried to get a word in, but she shut then down, and then she looked at the abuser again. ''We've talked about your situation here, we have a few solutions, but really, our favourite one is where we take you out and kill you.''

And I am reading this like oh my god. That's the freaking solution. It doesn't need to be that complicated. We just need someone who is 100% done with this shit who takes him out and shoots him. Problem solved. You hit your wife? Out and shot. Bye loser. Nobody losing sleep over you anymore.

I would love to tell you that she did take him out and shoot him, of how would I love to tell you that. I prayed it would happen as soon as the option was presented to me. However she told him he is either being taken out and shot, or he is leaving, getting a job and then providing money for his wife and daughter, and not returning until the spring comes again, which, he agreed to, since the alternative was to be taken out and shot. But I was still saying we should shoot him. She then decided to stay with the mother and daughter to keep them safe and fed during the winter. Like the hero she fucking is.

So, I haven't read this entire book yet, this is the middle of it, I have to go back and read the other half in order to know what happened next, but, I love this, I love the author, I love the representation of domestic violence and cycle of abuse, and how it is to be a female child in this situation, I love Large Marge, I love the resolution she provides, we need her, someone please, put her in reality. I want to be her, I want to barge into people's home and make death threats to abusers. To randomly stumble on a book like this is incredible to me. Thank you women for writing books. I love you all.

[moonstruckme]

hi! i have a request, but not for a specific character, you can pick who you want to write about i just ask that it’s not about any of the stranger things characters😅 but could you write something just pure and fluffy and sweet with a plus size!reader please? there is a serious lack of just pure plus size!reader fanfics, almost all of the ones i find are smut and it makes me quite sad because i’m currently not able to read smut because of mental health reasons🥹 i just want to read something so sweet and pure and loving with a plus size!reader and her man just loving her softness and curves.

Hi sweetheart! I hope this is alright <3

Sirius Black x plus size!reader ♡ 822 words

You’re innocently reading when cold fingers try to jimmy into the crease between your thighs. You squeal. “Sirius, don’t! Shit, your fingers are freezing.” 

He pouts. Even with his pretty lips and freakishly long lashes, the expression doesn’t work on you like it used to. Sirius has worn it out. “Exactly,” he whines. “They’re cold, and you’re so warm. Quit being selfish.” 

“So get a blanket like a normal person,” you chide. “Don’t make your cold fingers my problem.” 

Sirius scowls. “I thought my problems were your problems. Isn’t that, like, the point of a relationship?” 

You lower your book to give him a look. “That’s an awfully self-serving idea of what a relationship is supposed to be, Siri.” 

He huffs, reaching the whole two feet to grab the blanket you’ve strewn over the armchair. “Fine. You must have me in your thrall or something, you know that? I used to get whatever I wanted. Where did it all go so wrong?” 

“Not sure.” You flip your page idly, though you’re not really reading anymore. Just baiting your boyfriend, as you are wont to do. “Maybe when you stopped trying to woo me.” 

Sirius gasps, and your book is torn from your hands. He sets it on the table, and you both pretend he hasn’t done it with care, saving your page. “How dare you! I woo you every day of the week.” 

“Mmm.” You try to look unimpressed, but you know he can see the smile you’re fighting. “I don’t feel very wooed when you try to use me as a human heating pad.” 

SIrius’ grin comes out to play. You take that as permission to release your own. “Aw, m’sorry, lovely girl,” he croons, bending to brush his lips over the place on your thigh where his fingers had clawed for entry a minute before. “Have I not been telling you how wonderful you are often enough?” 

You bite your lip against the giggle bubbling up your throat. “You could stand to do it more.” 

“My pretty baby.” Sirius grips the fat of your hips, pulling himself upward to kiss you on the lips. “My sweet, darling angel, do you know how much I love you?” He moves to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, just under your eye, kiss-kiss-kissing all up and down your face. 

Your giggles escape, and you break, hands touching his waist to keep him close. “I do,” you admit happily. “I love you too.” 

“No, but not nearly as much as I love you.” His voice wilts with a dejection that’s entirely for show, leaning back to bat his too-long eyelashes at you pitifully. “You really have no idea, do you? You silly thing. I think I need to show you more often.” 

You’re quiet, shaking with silent laughter Sirius pretends not to notice. 

“I love you here,” he says, palms rubbing soothingly up and down your thighs, “but for more than just because they’re so warm. And I love you here” —his hands slide over the material of your shirt, up your waist, dipping lovingly into each rolling curve— “and here” —he follows the path to your broad shoulders, squeezing lightly before continuing upwards to cup your face— “and I love—baby, are you paying attention? This is important—I love you here.” He pecks you on the lips. “Love love love you, gorgeous. I love you here, too.” He kisses your nose, then presses his lips to your forehead. “I love you here most of all,” he says, words all mushed up against your skin. “Do you believe me now?” 

“Sirius,” you say softly, face now infinitely warmer than it had been a minute ago, back when you’d been under the impression that you were the one teasing him. “Of course I believe you.” 

“Good.” He gives your head one more firm kiss before backing off, giving you one of those sweetheart, earnest smiles he keeps locked away for special occasions. “It’s important that you know, you know?”

“Mhm,” you say, and his grin widens at your shyness. It takes a lot for him to make you this bashful these days, so your flush is a victory for him. “This was all a part of your grand scheme, wasn’t it?” 

Sirius blinks at you. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

You stare him down for a few seconds before sighing. “Fine, you can use my legs to warm your hands.” 

“Yes!” He wastes no time, worming his fingers into the soft inner part of your thighs. You tense at the cold. “I prefer not to think of it as using you. More like affection that also happens to have utility, yeah?” 

“Sure.” You roll your eyes, fighting a shiver as you pick your book up from the coffee table. “It’s like you said, you get whatever you want.” 

Sirius leans forward, pecking you sweetly on the lips. “You know it, babe.”

[vickyvicarious]

"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

[shaylogic]

Messy Masterpost: I don't have the words so here's a mess of links and ideas

@captainfantasticalright's Dead Boy Detectives: a breakdown of Dante's hell. This post is a masterpiece of understanding how the Hell/afterlife dynamics work in Sandman Universe and DBDA, and it's sent my mind buzzing like crazy

My post about Simon's book

Not just any book

Theory about Simon's brother/father? Being a part of Burgess' Cult ("Order of Ancient Mysteries")

Thank you @niko-sasaki-dbd

Ba'al ==> Sa'al

Seems like Simon may have gotten a demon-summoning book that worked from his brother who may have been involved on Burgess' cult from Sandman. He died with book in hand, and that's the one he's tearing apart on repeat in Hell. Tumblr user listed above identified what the book might be, based off the image.

This interview at 12:52 George Rexstrew answering that Edwin's favorite thing about Charles is his unconditional love and acceptance of him.

Post about Charles bearing his soul to the Night Nurse like Orpheus played music to Cerberus

Interviewer talking about "straight friend" Charles "rejecting" gay Edwin, only for George, Jayden, Beth, and Steve to stiffen up slightly. Asking about how Charles didn't have a gay panic reaction to Edwin's confession. This interviewer is actually gay and interviewed on a gay network later, which threw me after this question.

=>If Charles had really gay panic rejected Edwin, it really would have ended like Eurydice, thrust back to the pit of Hell to wallow in the internalized homophobia, rather than being released with the support and healthy love of Charles.

Actors have reiterated multiple times that the case is not closed on Edwin and Charles' romance, they're just getting started and figuring it out in the midst of all the chaos.

People are stuck in Hell because they believe they belong there but Edwin gets out the second time because Charles KNOWS he doesn't belong there! And reminds Edwin of this when he's getting pulled under in it all

Charles went back to his red polo after the confession and escaping Hell with @nerdytacollama's excellent addition on episode 7 specifically!!

Edwin's whole arc was about accepting loving and being loved and his attraction to men, and his love of his best friend, specifically

Steve Yockey saying the confession NEEDED to happen on the stairs out of Hell. One reason being that Edwin may have been too afraid to go through with it after, another being that he could get dragged away forever at any second and it could be his last chance.

[above article pic quote from this]

But also based on the Hell worldbuilding of the Sandman Universe where people only go to hell if they believe in it and believe they deserve to be there > Edwin believing his want for intimacy at all letalone with other men being "such a sinful life" (Night Nurse paperwork) > the upward climb of healthy love from the Dante's Inferno Post > Edwin HAD to confess on the stairs and be accepted! It freed him of Hell~!

Simon moved on from Hell with Edwin's mutual sorrow for the two of them and somewhat understanding/forgiveness? Maybe self-acceptance from the gay guilt

Edwin's form saying he would serve in Hell for living such a sinful life and then be reassigned to a more pleasant state (Hell not an eternal afterlife, just time served and then moving one)

[image posted in @reviewcreature's post with @melefim's addition]

If Edwin went back now, loved and accepted by his friends and himself, would he pass on to the better place?

My post wondering about reincarnation in the Sandman Universe, which others weighed in on in the comments about how it's indeed canon

The parallels of the Lust room in hell being a butcher shop with bloody hanging bodies to reflect the debauchery of bloody writhing lust bodies ===> compare to "Girls' Night" when Jenny was running and hiding from stalker Maxine in her butcher shop behind meat ===> compare Edwin's arc of accepting "sodomite sin" of being attracted to men (challenge to the epitome and catalyst (ha) by the Cat King) and him having been through the Lust room of hell before and him STARING AT THE RED BULL ON THE BUTCHER SHOP WALL (as compared to directly in the first linked post)

The purity of Charles and Edwin's love compared to that and the stereotypes of how male love is depicted in media, as George, Steve, and Jayden have spoken out against gently in multiple interviews

How it's partially childlike, partially deep friendship where two men can hug and cry, partially a crush, partially potentially reciprocally romantic

The juxtaposition of Edwin's archetypical confession to Charles on the stairs of Hell on the way out of the Limbo of it, with Maxine guilty and desperate just below them, not even looking toward the open door

Fans wondering why it was so easy to get out of Hell. The worldbuilding canon saying that Hell is what you make of it (Charles says this in the original Season of Mists Ch 4 comic, Edwin says it in episode 7 to Simon). People in Hell stuck because they feel they deserve it.

@podcastenthusiast's post about being glad Edwin didn't see Simon move on, because then he'd really wonder we he himself suffered so long

==>CHARLES got Edwin out because he KNEW he didn't belong there!!!!

They push and pull each other by the arms the whole way to the top!!!!!!!

Magical weight in the snake pit "nothing's meant to leave this place"

Charles literally dragging Edwin out of Hell for the love and devotion to him!!!!!!!!!!!!

Allegory of dragging him out of his self-rejection and holding him by the face saying over and over "I love you. I accept you. I'm not leaving without you."

Openly gay producer/director Steve Yockey insisting on being the one to write Episode 7 and you can feel it in every color on the screen.

There's no higher power deciding this, despite the paperwork and minders ensuring everyone is sorted. It's an internal self-decided fate, unconscious.

I'm not gonna be able to link and list every pic and organize this in the state I'm in but--

ARE YOU SEEING ALL THE THINGS I'M SEEING?

Girl help I'm getting visions!!!!!!!!!!!!

[yelenaslyubov]

Twin Size Mattress (yelena belova university AU)

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: heyyyy everyone! well i kept my promise one way or another and i finally have a piece written for you all! i’m sorry if it’s not up to par compared to my other stories, but it’s been a while and i feel a little rusty when it comes to this type of thing. i wanted to try something different for this time around and i think i accomplished that. also, let me know if you guys like the university AU aspect of this bc i might just be able to continue it a little bit (i say maybe loosely lol). in addition, i added a fun little moment of adding the outfits the characters would be wearing!! i hope you guys enjoy this new story and hopefully there will be more to come! it’s good to be back🥹🥹i hope to see more of you soon🫶

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova (AU) x reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut, fingering, oral, dom!reader, mentions of alcohol, language

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: you and yelena have been going to college together for the past couple years. when a college football game commences, you and yelena spend the day together and finish it off with a bang

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.7k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ yelena’s outfit

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ reader’s outfit

//

The pressing weight of your backpack dug into your shoulders as you quickly made your way to Yale’s school of art. Though your major was in English, you had connections that allowed you to use the photography facilities located elsewhere. Your bag was full of books, film equipment, and the negatives that you were anxious to develop.

It was college game day, the Harvard vs. Yale game to be more specific, so shoving through blue and red crowds of students was at the bottom of your list. Your trip to the dark room had to be short because even though you hated the idea of all things sports, you felt that tradition outweighed your personal grievances.

As you shut the door to the room and found yourself alone with the quiet, red space, your mind seemed to lighten. The pictures you had brought with you made their way out of your bag and into the developing process. You went through the usual motions until you hung them up to dry. Before you were beautiful headshots and silhouettes of your roommate, Yelena.

While most were taken with the consent of Yelena, there were some too extraordinary to possibly miss out on. The red hues accentuated the curves you so desperately longed to stroke. Of course, this information was unbeknownst to her.

She was the reason why you were so anxious to develop the pictures. Looking through the lense that wonderful day made you so much more excited to see them all finished. The day had been an exciting one. During the summer before the two of you went back to school you had a day at the beach. The weather was perfect, and she was perfect. She wore this lilac swim set that complimented her blonde hair and summer kissed skin so well you thought you would never be able to tear your eyes away from her.

As you went through each picture of her smiling, laughing, and being her usual self you came across the pictures that you tried so hard not to take. Your desire got the better part of you at this moment. The pictures arose of her laying belly down on her towel, a perfect view of her toned back paired with her other curves you could barely speak of. It was hard not to think about that day without becoming wildly sad that she had no idea you liked her with everything inside you.

These few intimate pictures would go where the rest of them are; hidden away in your journal. It was easier this way because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship that you valued so much. But what if she felt the same? You pulled yourself out of your delusions or else you might start to have hope.

She must have read your mind because your phone started ringing and as you pulled it out of your bag, Yelena’s face was vibrating on your screen.

“Hello?” you answered

“Where are you? You better not still be in that stupid dark room!” The sound of massive crowds were loud on the other side of the phone, but your voice drowned out every noise that could be taking place.

“Ha, funny story…”

“Seriously! The game starts soon, y/n. Hurry!”

“You miss me or something, Belova?”

She chuckled once. “And if I did?”

There was silence on your end because your one moment of bravery was already spent, leaving you speechless. “Uhm I’ll start heading your way right now. I should only be about 15 minutes out.”

“Perfect, I’ll save you a seat!”

“Thanks, Lena. Love you, bye,” you said naturally.

It was only then did you realize the words that slipped out of your mouth. Love you, really? You hoped that she thought it wasn’t how you really meant it.

After your stupid mistake, you took your pictures, tucked them away in your journal, and took off out of the building. The day was sunny but the fall crisp in the air took the edge off of the heat from the sun. Even from far away you could hear the triumph of the marching band playing their game day songs. Though your dislike of sports was one thing, there was a certain feeling you got on days like this; the music, the people, the adrenaline, that really made you succumb to the American tradition.

Finding Yelena in the crowd would be the easy part, the hard part would be keeping your eyes off her the entire afternoon. Luckily, she generally picked the same area each game day to sit so it wouldn’t be an extreme challenge to spot her out.

Your suspicion came true when you saw her jumping up and down a few aisles up from the front towards the 40 yard line. She was dressed in her usual Yelena chic, but with a hint of school spirit. You smiled to yourself at her excitement for the game and waited to see if she noticed you walking up to greet her.

“You’re here!” she yelled. She shuffled through other people on her row and fell into your arms. The strong smell of her cologne filled your nose and warmed your heart. You hugged her tightly back and squeezed the leather jacket that was draped around her. “You almost missed the game,” she whined.

“Lena, kickoff hasn’t even started, but I see that hasn’t stopped you from starting early.” You eyed the cold beer she had in her Yale koozie.

“Oh hush and let me be. Now get in there so we can watch.” As you were sneaking past other students Yelena tapped you on the ass and giggled. This was nothing unusual for Yelena, but each time she did it, it made your cheeks glow red.

The two of you settled into your places in the stadium surrounded by a couple of your friends and watched the game begin. The first half of the game was intense with each team up and down on scores. When the buzzer sounded to notify it was halftime everyone seemed to sigh in relief. The crowds started to shuffle again to take a quick intermission before the second half.

“So y/n, what photos were you able to get this time?” Yelena asked.

It was the question you were avoiding answering. If you pulled out the few you wanted to show her, the rest you spent your time hiding would be exposed as well.

“Oh they weren’t anything important, just a couple rolls I hadn’t developed yet.” You tried to play it cool not to give it away.

“Everything of yours is important to me.” Her saying that just made it so much harder to keep them all a secret. “Come on, please show me.”

She gave you her best pouty face and it was so unfortunate that it worked. You rolled your eyes and tried to open the journal in your bag so you could find the pictures you wanted her to see. Once they were all collected you passed them over to her and her face lit up.

“The day at the beach! I remember these.” She flipped through them with a grin on her face. She laughed when the picture of you popped up with your pants soaking yet from the ocean waves. “You were so pissed.”

“Pissed is an understatement,” you added. She smiled up at you and your stomach was tied up in knots. You weren’t sure whether it was the dimples that just so sneakily showed up, her rosy lips, or the bright green eyes that you could finally see without her sunglasses getting in the way.

“These are so amazing— you’re amazing. I need copies of these,” she begged.

“Anything for you,” you smiled.

“Anything?” Yelena smirked.

Your cheeks darkened red. “Shut up.” You shoved her a little with your shoulder.

By the time you showed all your creations off to Yelena the second half of the game was in full swing.

The second was more intense than the first due to Yale being behind for most of the game. Yelena was starting to become too anxious for your liking, and you hoped for her sake that you guys could pull out the win. There was a minute left on the clock and Yelena practically had your arm in a chokehold.

“Fucking run the ball, jackass!” Yelena yelled.

“Hey now, you wanna simmer down a little for me?” you asked, hoping to calm her down a bit.

She chuckled a little and leaned into your arm more. “Sorry, sorry. Anything for you,” she mocked from your previous words.

She quickly turned her head back so she could enjoy the last minute of the game. Her grip only became tighter around your arm as the clock ticked down to the wire. The whistle sounded to indicate that Yale called for a timeout. They needed to sort out their plans if they were going to try and pull out this win. They were down 28-24 with only around 30 seconds to go.

Once they were back in the game the crowd went wild, Yelena included. Number 13 got a hold of the ball and ran all the way to the end zone for a touchdown. Yelena screamed like she never had before and threw her hands up in the air. You cheered along with her at your school’s win. Yelena jumped into your arms out of excitement and you held her tightly as you swept her up in the air.

“We did it, Lena!” you cheered.

She found her footing back on the ground and she grabbed your face and looked into your eyes. “We did it!” The pure shock on your face made her recoil back a bit which resulted in her having matching cheeks just like yourself. “Uh- I- I’m sorry.”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you smiled. “Let’s just get out of here before we’re all packed in.”

You said goodbye to your friends right before a Yelena grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowd. You knew it meant nothing, but having your hand in hers was a dream come true.

When you had made it out of the crowd, it seemed as though the two of you forgot you were still linked together. You quickly broke it off before she could say anything about it.

“So, are we going to keep walking with nowhere to go or are you taking me out?” Yelena smirked.

“Am I what?” you questioned.

“You really are worked up today.” Yelena laughed, but you knew it was true and you didn’t know how else to hide it.

“Why don’t we go back to my dorm? My roommate isn’t there like usual so we could watch a movie or something?”

“Do you have popcorn?” she asked and you nodded. “Then it’s a deal.”

The two of you talked and laughed on the walk to your dorm. Like usual, Yelena made it so difficult to not stare at her. She had such a unique confidence that drew you deeper and deeper into her presence. The way she carried herself was like no other.

When you made it into your room Yelena immediately started searching for your snacks that you kept in the drawers under your bed. You set your things down on your desk and sat down in your chair.

“Do you mind if I borrow some of your clothes?” Yelena asked.

“I don’t know why you even ask anymore, Lena. Your closet consists of half of my clothes anyway,” you laughed.

She rolled her eyes and started taking her clothes off to change. Trying not to watch her change was not easy to come by. You turned around in your chair and pretended to unload your back from the day. What Yelena didn’t know is that your mirror allowed the perfect angle to see different parts of her.

What really got you was the matching black bra and underwear that revealed itself as she took her clothes off. This surprise caused you to knock a few things off your desk in the process, one of them being your journal. Naturally, Yelena turned around to try and help.

“What did you do, get angry and throw things off the desk?” Yelena laughed. It was awful timing to have other pictures that Yelena did not see poking out of your journal. “What are these?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Y/n, what are these?”

“Just pictures…”

Yelena stared at you puzzlingly as she picked up the journal off the floor and opened it to reveal the hidden pictures inside. Her brows furrowed as she inspected each one in great detail.

“Y/n, these are…so beautiful.”

You stood there staring down at the pictures or anywhere else in the room, just so you didn’t have to look at her.

“Why didn’t you show me these?” Yelena’s voice was softer now, more gentle. “Y/n?”

“I-I don’t know… I guess I thought you would think it was weird,” you replied shyly.

“Why would it be weird?”

Shit. If you told her why then she would know how you felt, but if you say nothing at all that’s not any better. You were stuck.

“I don’t know…”

She searched your face from any indication of an explanation. There was so much happening that you almost forgot Yelena was half naked.

“These are beautiful.”

“Only because you’re in them,” you bravely said.

Yelena blushed, something you didn’t see very often. “Damn y/l/n, you sure do know the way to my heart.”

“I’m serious.” You felt like your world had stopped at the thought of where this was going. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Yelena. How could I not take those pictures that day?”

Yelena was quiet now. You weren’t sure whether this was good or bad. You were tired of being subtle, especially now that you had her right where you wanted her.

“I don’t know what to say,” Yelena said. Her eyes were full of something you hadn’t seen before.

You looked at her for a moment trying to build up your confidence one last time because you knew if you didn’t then you would never be able to do this.

“For once Belova, I would love it if you said nothing at all.” You stepped closer so you could delicately slide your hands up behind her neck. She looked taken off guard, but she definitely was not fighting it. When Yelena took her hands and placed them around the straps of your overalls and pulled you closer so you were face to face, you knew she might’ve wanted this just as much as you.

“Just kiss me already,” she whispered close enough you could feel the breath on your lips. With her words you threw your lips against hers in a kiss that you waited much too long for. Your lips moved against hers as your hands were tangled in her blonde waves. Yelena pulled and grabbed at anything on you just to make you even closer to one another.

You shifted your position to try and push yourself against Yelena so that she may lean against the bed. You knew exactly what your intentions were as of now, but you were not sure how Yelena would feel about it.

The first brush of her tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine and you weren’t sure if she heard your quiet moan or not. You saved your restraint for so many months, so now there was nothing holding you back. Your lips traveled away from hers to down her soft neck. You placed rough and hungry kisses along the nape of her neck and you could tell just by her demeanor that she was having a hard time keeping quiet.

“Uhm, what about your roommate?” Yelena asked in between heavy breaths

“What about them?”

“What if they, you know, walk in?” You must have found a sweet spot on her neck because her question ended with a whine.

“They’re never here.”

“But what if-”

“Just shut up already,” you said.

You smiled against her lips as you threw her shoulders down on the bed as gently as you could. It was hard to take things slow when you had been craving exactly this for far too long.

As your hungry lips continued to move against Yelena’s, you found your fingers playing with the band of her underwear. Your fingers traced all along the skin that was covered.

“I want to see every part of you that was hiding in these photos,” you said. Your mind went back to the day you took those sexy pictures of her and it made you even more desperate for what was hiding beneath Yelena’s garments.

“I just need you to touch me,” Yelena said, breathless. “Please touch me.”

You were quick to pull down her panties to reveal a sight you never thought you would have the pleasure of seeing. Even the panties that brushed against her pussy made her wince in pleasure.

“Please,” begged Yelena.

After undressing her bottom, in one swift motion you unhooked her bra.

“You want me to touch you like this?”

You placed your lips around one of her nipples as you watched her head fall into the bed. Your tongue made its way to circle around her nipple, slowly building up her desire.

Without thinking, you slightly tugged on her nipple with your teeth. Yelena moaned just loud enough for you to hear. It was the most beautiful sound that you had been dying to hear since you met her.

You wanted to move on further.

“Or I could maybe touch you like this?”

Your hand was almost shaking as it made its way down to get center. Your fingers slowly but surely made small circles on her clit. Now, Yelena was panting with lust and trying to keep quiet despite what you wanted.

“Fuck, Lena. You’re so wet.” You couldn’t help yourself from pointing out the obvious. The wetness that covered her only made yours grow.

Yelena had her mouth covered now, most likely paranoid that others would hear her like she had said earlier.

“I want to hear you,” you demanded.

Yelena was moaning softly through her hand now, a reaction to your words.

“Be a good girl and take your hand away from your mouth. I want to hear you.”

She did as you wished and removed her hand. The hand that previously resided over her mouth was now gripped onto the bed.

You took a minute to admire her before moving on further. Her body was even more gorgeous than you could’ve ever imagined. Her toned arms that held on so tightly to the bed, her curves that wavered like the ocean down her body, and her perfectly kissed skin, just how you liked it.

“Maybe you want me to touch you… like this?”

You went even further and slowly slipped your fingers inside her pussy. As you sunk your fingers deep inside her, Yelena became even more worked up.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned. “Please keep going. It feels so good.”

Seeing Yelena drown in the pleasure of your fingers inside her was something you never thought you would live to see.

“You feel so good, baby.” Yelena seemed to like the name because she let out a long whine. “Good girl. Be louder for me.”

You loved the power you had over her in such a short amount of time.

The pace of your fingers stayed quite steady now. Yelena moaned with each stroke that went deeper in her pretty pussy. There was one more thing that you longed to do before she reached her limit.

“You want me to touch you like this, baby?”

Finally, with your fingers still keeping a rhythm inside her, you lowered yourself down on the bed so that you could taste her.

Your tongue made its way to make contact with her clit. Yelena was the loudest now, and with her noise came her restless body. Much like her, you were just as overcome with pleasure.

Her hips bucked into your face with each increasing second. Your tongue explored every single part of her, almost as if you would never get to do it again. Your fingers sped up now that you could tell she was getting closer.

“Holy fuck, right there,” Yelena moaned. “Keep going, I’m so close.”

“Good job, baby,” you murmured. “I want you to cum around my fingers.”

Your words only sped up the process more. Her hips moved even faster which made it hard for you to keep your pace. Your tongue and fingers moved rapidly as she started to reach the peak of her climax

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Yelena said breathlessly.

All at once, Yelena let out a loud stream of moans that you were sure echoed through the hall in your dorm. You didn’t care. You were happy to have her all to yourself, and now, everyone knew it too.

“Good girl, let it all out,” you praised her.

Yelena laid there on your bed to try and catch her breath. You couldn’t help but watch the result of your doings as she looked so worked up.

You took your last opportunity to soak her body in by kissing all the way up her thighs, stomach, chest, and face. Yelena seemed to be hiding her face a bit, most definitely different from her usual demeanor.

You moved her hand that shielded her face. “You okay?”

She gave a thumbs up

“Does that mean it felt okay?”

She had a surprised look on her face. “The entire hall heard me and you think it didn’t feel good?!”

You laughed. “Just checking.”

You both laid next to each other for a while in silence before Yelena spoke up.

“So…how long have you felt this way?”

“When did you start school here?”

“Uhm…two years ago?”

“Then two years.”

Yelena looked over at you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nodded. “How could I not, just look at you.” Yelena smiled at your words.

“Well, I’ve worked up an appetite after all that fun. What do you say we make some popcorn and watch a movie and pretend like no one heard all of that?”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night in each other’s company talking and reveling in the day’s events. You laid in bed thinking about how happy you were to have taken those pictures that day on the beach.

//

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[creatingblackcharacters]

hi ice! im sorry that you're dealing with other stresses, please don't feel any pressure to answer this quickly or anything.

im wondering if you have any advice for a Black person overcoming a lot of internalized anti-Blackness? especially pertaining to feeling like a disappointment specifically for being Black (i struggle with feeling like i will ever be attractive to a partner because of it, even if theyre also Black), and presenting in a way that makes me happy (i want to grow out an afro but i get afraid of looking "too Black", same with wearing my durag and similar things). also are there any books that you would recommend for working through that, or even just learning about Black history (reading often helps me to logic myself out of negative thought patterns and feel inspired)?

thank you! sorry if this ask is too complicated/encompasses too much

Hi! Well first, I am sorry that you've lived a life and in a world that reinforces you to hate yourself. You do not deserve that, and I'm proud of you for asking for more, and I hope you one day live a life where you love yourself and recognize how much you deserve.

If it's okay, in addition to some resources, I could give you some pointers that I gained from my own life experience unlearning internalized antiblackness. It's not an easy or short process, and there's plenty of hard truths and happy truths. I am not the sweetest advice giver either, but I promise I mean well:

1. Release the Shackles of Respectability Politics!

I was already starting to really grow into my Black identity by undergrad (my family had at least tried to help me get there through my childhood) but what really cinched it for me was the state murder of Sandra Bland. Sandra Bland was everything "right"- multiple degrees, pretty, educated, in a historically Black sorority, a college educator, a woman who spoke up for justice. Respected in her community! She was everything I thought I was supposed to be!

And the police still captured her, beat her, and murdered her in her jail cell (and lied about it, and potentially posted a picture of her dead body as her mugshot) for the audacity to question them. She's still dead! She still wasn't "good" enough to live!

No amount of being a "good, well-behaved" Black will save you in a society where being Black itself is deemed a sin. So every time you get a thought where "this isn't what society wants" or "I'm embarrassed" or "if I do this, I'll look like a bad-" cut it off! Fuck em! IT'S NOT TRUE! Recognize that you could be the finest, richest person on the street and you'd still be just a n***a in many people's eyes. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Point blank. They don't like you for your racial identity. They can be racist to Barack Obama and Beyonce, and they sure can be racist to you lmao.

It's not about you, you are not the problem! James Baldwin himself once said that racism is the white man's problem. It's not your responsibility to make them "like" you and "not be disappointed", it's their responsibility to respect you as a human being regardless!

2. Take Back Your Autonomy

This ties into the first one. Let's all thank Lil Nas X for this one, bc he did for my bisexuality what I had to do on my own for my Blackness. 🙏🏾

If they hate you anyway, you might as well be your most authentic self 🤷🏾‍♀️

Don't die disappointed because you wanted to reach white acceptance. Don't do it. If they're gonna hate you suppressed, they might as well hate you out loud 🤷🏾‍♀️ it's your life! It's why I don't shut up about racism lmao. You already hated me, now we'll both be uncomfortable and imma speak 🤷🏾‍♀️

So when you wear that durag, or wear your afro, recognize that 1) there are people just like you who love how you look because you look like them, 2) you should love how you look period because you're who matters, and 3) the day I receive a check with an undisclosed amount of reparations on it is the day I'll sit and discuss allowing whiteness to designate how the fuck I'm suppose to wear my hair lmao (and the answer will still be no). 😤

3. Accept that you're worth it

It's going to be hard. Even by wearing your afro, your own natural hair, you are making a statement of pride in your Blackness, and everyone won't understand or respect that. That was one of my first steps in high school, was cutting off all my permed hair and loving my afro. I had to write affirmations that I read daily to love myself, I was so scared. But it was worth it. My hair is healthy and happy. I had to learn brown skin was beautiful. But once I did, I couldn't stop fawning over it, on myself and others.

There are people who live their lives told by society they are perfect. Why do they get to think they're beautiful, and you don't? They're not better than you, yet they can tell you that you should hate yourself. What gives them the right? Who do they think they are? Fight back! Accept that the fight is hard, but you're worth it! Your Blackness is beautiful, and it fought hard as fuck to make it this far- honor that by honoring yourself!

4. Find some community; dive deep into Blackness

This one is self explanatory. You're gonna have to be around Black people that love themselves. Surround yourself with it. Find things they do that you like. Learn to find love in it. It could be creative, political, hell even finding a hairstyles group that shows cute ways to wear your hair. That can be a way to grow more confident and try new things. (All skinfolk ain't kinfolk though, so be aware.) But being around Black people, who care about the same things you care about, and make you feel heard, will help break that... Mind space where you feel alone and wrong. Trust, if I didn't have other Black people on this site, I would go mad from people gaslighting me that the racism I was seeing wasn't real. You need some more of us around you that reinforce your love for us, and yourself.

Here is a long paper discussing internalized antiblackness; you said you like to read lol. It admittedly focuses on Black women, BUT it might also help to use the sources that they cite to go on your own journey regardless! You could also just surround yourself with bloggers and beautiful poems and Black creations. There's beauty in all of it, you gotta let yourself find it.

I hope this helps 🙏🏾

[fantastic-nonsense]

I wouldn't mind the heavy focus on warrior Amazons so much if they were allowed to be competent instead of just being used as red shirt cannon fodder. But it seems DC only hypes up the Amazons as deadly fighters so other characters can look more impressive when they take them down.

Oh and Happy New Year.

Happy New Year! Forgive me if I use your ask to talk about a piece of the Wonder Woman mythos I've wanted to discuss for some time, because your complaints offered me the perfect segue to write a nice, in-depth meta on it and I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

Honestly, I think a lot of people (both creatives and readers) either don't know, forget, or fundamentally misunderstand the nature of the Amazons' warrior status. So they often get reduced to "deadly warriors who strike first," "supposedly deadly but generally incompetent warriors when outside of their own books," or "militant man-haters" by a lot of people. None of which are true.

The Amazons are incredibly competent warriors and have been since Marston's first portrayal of them in the 1940s, so I don't inherently mind them being shown as such. However, where people get bogged down is insisting that they be shown as deadly and trigger-happy offensive fighters who are happy to strike first and hard, which fundamentally goes against the philosophy and thematic messaging built into Amazonian lore.

DC's Amazonia, lore-wise, is traditionally framed as an Aphrodite vs. Ares "peace and love vs. violence and war" story. In Marston's original rendition of the Amazon's backstory Aphrodite is not only their patron goddess but also their sole creator; it was only after Crisis on Infinite Earths and George Perez's long-overdue lore expansions that the rest of the goddesses became co-creators and co-patrons of the Amazons. Regardless, Ares and his domain are consistently invoked as what the Amazons don't want to be like or engage in. That behavior is the antithesis of what Amazons are supposed to be. This lore informs literally everything about how the Amazons view both their combat abilities and their duty to the goddesses.

The contemporary Amazons are, for the most part, women who died in terrible and traumatic ways at the hands of men (usually through domestic violence, murder, or as conquests of war). When the goddesses created the Amazons by reincarnating these women via the Well of Souls, they specifically charged them to become their champions. And what did these goddesses want? They explicitly wanted justice and protection for women in a violently patriarchial world. The Amazons being warriors is thus specifically tied to an understanding of necessary self-defense and protection (both of themselves and other women), not offense.

Which of course is what lands the Amazons on Themyscira in the first place: invoking the goddesses' ire by not obeying these commands after their rebellion against their enslavement by Heracles and his men crosses the line from the necessary battle to achieve their liberation into wanton violence and revenge:

"The battered Hippolyta prayed to her goddesses and found the courage and inspiration to free herself. Athena had reminded Hippolyta of the Amazons' purpose and mission—but not all of the Amazons remembered. Or cared. They yearned for vengeance. For retribution against those who violated them...and under Antiope, many found it." -Wonder Woman: Our Worlds at War (2001)

And as Hippolyta and Menalippe tell Antiope:

"No, Antiope. Never vengeance; never again!" /// "That is Ares' way, Antiope. We achieve no glory by embracing the Dark God's power!" -Wonder Woman (1987) #1

The Amazon way is promoting a society based on love, equality, truth, and peaceful conflict resolution, not vengeance and violent combat. It's a philosophy that defines Diana's mission in Man's World as an ambassador, teacher, and living example of her peoples' way of life:

Enraptured, they listen to her dissertation on equality between the sexes, tolerance, peaceful coexistence. Social Philosophy 101, Amazon Style. -Wonder Woman (1987) #170

Diana's gods-given mission was to spread the Amazonian ideals of conciliation—to give those living in the World of Man the proper tools to peacefully coexist with each other. It was her life's purpose to teach the possibilities of respect and love by being a living example of an upbringing founded in those ideals.

Truth-seeking, diplomacy, and peace are the Amazonian way of dealing with conflict, not violence. And when you are forced to engage in combat (and you should be prepared for that eventuality because sometimes it will happen), your goal should be self-defense and de-escalation, not offense and prolonging the conflict longer than necessary.

This is also, as an aside, why Diana (and specifically Diana in her capacity as Wonder Woman) does not usually carry offensive weapons like a sword and why her primary "weapons" are the Lasso of Truth and protective bracelets. She's the official representative of her peoples' culture and personally deeply believes in that cultural philosophy. Other Amazons have different views on the matter, including her mother, but Diana grew up completely separated from the World of Man and fully immersed in that belief system, which deeply informs how she views her mission as Wonder Woman.

Personally, I think many (but not all) of the problems re: depicting the Amazons in the modern era come from various writers attempting to solve contradictions that don't exist. They see "kickass trained warriors living peacefully on an island" and see that as a contradiction they have to solve: why do they train if they're pacifists? Why do they fight if they're peaceful? In reality, it's not a contradiction: their status as warriors and champions is specifically tied to self-defense and protection (both of themselves and others), but given the choice they don't want to have to take up arms to protect people because that goes against their fundamental cultural philosophy. Outsiders and meddlesome gods are the ones who force them to do that! What they want is for everyone to be treated with love, respect, and understanding so they don't have to!

And there's a lot of problematic elements built into the concept's execution, but this is the core thesis behind the split between Hippolyta's Themyscirans and Antiope's Bana-Mighdall. The Themysciran Amazons have had their fill of violence and war; they just want to live in peace. But a) they were specifically tasked with guarding Doom's Doorway when they were taken to the island, a duty which necessitates perfect combat readiness, and b) their history is littered with examples of people refusing to leave them alone. So they train, in case someone decides to take shots at them, but otherwise live in peaceful isolation. Meanwhile, the Banas looked at that same shared history and went "we need to take the fight to the outside world. Offense is the best defense, and the only way to protect ourselves and the other women of the world is to actively seek vengeance for the violence women face." So they chose to actively intervene in Man's World, fighting constant battles and exacting revenge for any women mistreated at the hands of men.

...which is also why Artemis was such a necessary and interesting addition to the Wonder Woman mythos (even if she's often handled...poorly), because she and Diana represent two diametrically opposed views of how to protect and represent both their cultures and the women of Man's World, but that's a rant for a different time.

Anyway, the Themysciran Amazons' martial pacifism as a cultural value isn't a contradiction; it's one way of looking at a history filled with violence and victimization and saying "no more." And it's a pretty subversive way of doing so, which (well-written) comics tend to note!

So yes, the "Amazons are warriors" mentality has always been there and has been solidly emphasized at various points throughout Wonder Woman's history, and it should be acknowledged and shown that they're all incredibly competent in battle when they're forced to engage in it. But the way in which it gets emphasized is what defines whether a writer has a solid understanding of the history and baggage that comes with depicting the Amazonian struggle and the socio-political issues embedded in their lore. And unfortunately...many writers just don't seem to get it.

[genericpuff]

re: your tags on the rowling / musk post, specifically villains on saturday morning cartoons > wondering why we hate those who emulate it

idk if you ever played toontown, but i’ll always find it hilarious that disney released a game all about fighting big corporations from taking over small businesses, where the enemies (aka cogs (in the machine)) are all named after idioms / insults for types of corp employees (i.e. pencil pusher, ambulance chaser, big wig, loan shark, cold caller); esp considering disney is the Perfect example of the types of corporations that the game teaches you are evil and soulless. honestly, it’s a game i hold near and dear to my heart, and i recommend trying out toontown rewritten if you ever feel like it

i have NOT played toontown but i remember seeing the commercials for it all the time at like, the end of DVD's n junk and REALLY WANTING TO PLAY IT but ofc we didn't have a computer most of the time growing up and when we did it was hooked up with dial-up that my parents always got really clutchy over (idk if this was just a circumstance of the time period but like. did anyone else have a parent who acted like it was a life-or-death scenario if they missed even a single phone call ??? because my folks definitely did LOL) so something like toontown was just not in the cards LOL but I didn't know Toontown Rewritten was a thing so... maybe it's time for me to make another one of my childhood self's dreams come true (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

but that is really ironic, it's wild (and sad honestly) how so many accomplished writers and creators can become disconnected from what they originally represented and wrote about through... the disillusionment of fame and wealth i guess ??? or maybe it was just mold on the walls the whole time ?? 💀😆 i mean shit even rowling herself told a story about a boy literally living in the closet who finally escaped and went on to fight against an organization of literal fucking wizard nazi's, and yet now she seemingly missed the entire point of why kids resonated with her books so much and why they saw it as an inspiring message of hope and acceptance and love and persevering and standing up against literal fucking fascism ??? hello ???

actually there was a great video i watched a while ago about how despite the messages we took away from those books growing up, the HP books were also completely manufactured through the lens of capitalism, like not just as a franchise but on a narrative level. def give it a watch because it really kinda blew my mind and opened up a whole new perspective on the series for me LOL

[oceane4loveu]

The vlog of the perfect "her" océane ≽^•⩊•^≼

"𝑊𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑢𝑝"𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒!!! .𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖

ˢᵃᵗᵘʳⁿ ᴿᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳˡᵘᵈᵉ

Heyyyy starfish! I know it's been a long time like 3 months but I was in a bad state. I was literally depressed, my girlfriend had just left me and my whole life was literally boring, I kept comparing myself day after day and I wondered why I was living such a bad life in fact to be honest I didn't feel like myself anymore. So I deleted all my social networks, I deleted the number of several people and I started to focus on myself and I realized that all my traumas were really preventing me from moving forward, already I am obsessed with wanting to be in a relationship and fill this lack of love so I get into relationships with people who are bad for me and I do things that end up hurting me. I compare myself to girls all the time because my ex was always comparing me to his ex or other girls and at the end of our relationship it became a habit for me to do that so by deleting social media and doing a social media detox it helped me to really start loving myself again and to become aware of a lot of things and today I feel like everything is going better in my life I found a temporary job while waiting to start my dream job, I love myself more, I do what I like and I feel better but I haven't achieved all my goals yet. 2025 is in what month and I think I spent too much time creating thousands of plans to finally give up at the last minute and postpone everything until tomorrow so I decided to enter a new era!!!! An era where I work hard for my dreams, I'm 20 years old and I don't want to make the same mistakes year after year! So I asked myself how I can become a completely new woman? how to become her? This better version of me. I watched a lot of tam kaur videos, searched for the best self improvement books and I finally found the method that works best for me it's simple and detailed. For that I watched this tam kaur video which is definitely my favorite video!

𝟏. 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.

Ok this year I planned more than 15 glow up plans that I ended up abandoning because all these goals were literally dictated by others like I see this person doing something and I want to do it too so each time I did nothing and I stayed there doing several glow up plans without really taking action so this time I followed the SMARTER method

S: SPECIFIC

Be specific in defining your goal:

What exactly do you want to accomplish?

Who are the people involved? (individual or team) How are you going to achieve it?

M: MEASURABLE

How are you going to measure it? How will you know when you have achieved your goal?

A: ACHIEVABLE

Is your goal realistically achievable?

Can you achieve your goal within a defined time frame?

Is the goal ambitious enough to motivate you to take concrete action? Reminder: Don’t set goals that are too ambitious and might seem unrealistic to achieve

R: RELEVANT

Are the goals relevant to your vision?

Are the goals aligned with your role? (student/professional/leader)

Is the reason/motivation for achieving this goal relevant/meaningful in your context?

T: TIMELY

What is your timeline for achieving this goal? (30 days, 3 months, 6 months) Break down big goals into smaller goals

E: EVALUATION AND EMOTIONS

Continuously assess the needs of your goal

If it serves your goal of personal, academic and professional growth and development

Do you feel

empowered/motivated/energized/excited to achieve this goal?

R: REWARD AND REVIEW

Reward yourself for achieving your goals Review your goals to adapt them to your current contexts and needs

I finally created a list with all my goals

𝐆𝐨𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝟐. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞?

I used the everskies app to create an avatar of the new me but I will do a more in-depth post on that so Describe everything in detail:

A. About yourself. Your personality. Your brain.

B. Money

C. Career and opportunities

D. Friends and family

E. Relationship

F. Hobbies and happiness

G. Hobbies/how you spend your free time

H. Workouts, etc.

I. Home/habitat

𝟑. 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

move each goal into a weekly calendar every sunday, plan the week around that to come up with achievable goals to achieve all those goals and it becomes part of the weekly to do list

For example I want to read 15 books so I choose a book and I read 5 or 10 pages of that book per day and so on. I will use this planner and Canva to plan my week

𝟒. 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐞𝐭

I'm going to read several self improvement books that I bought recently and also here are some phrases that can help

A. You saw these dreams because you were supposed to see them. They are your dreams, seize them

B. Failure is part of your success

C. Don't despair of anything. Just do your job.

D. The fact that others live normal lives doesn't mean you have to live average. Work for your dreams.

E. Put down your damn phone

F. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Stop giving reasons why it's not for you.

G. Stop thinking about what others are doing. Everyone's life is different.

H. Take a look at your inner speech.

𝟓. 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

For this no need to be tired I took some routine ideas from Pinterest

𝟔. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬.

I understood one thing when I did my digital detox, no one comes and does all the work for me it's up to me to do it it's up to me to work to get what I really want it's not by running after people that it will happen by magic. It's time to work for my dreams and enjoy the process because the best version of me only depends on the actions I take to make it exist. So I focus on my goals.

[dollypopup]

I think a lot of people kind of miss the whole point of Polin.

There's conversation now about whether or not Penelope will accept Colin's proposal at the end of episode 4, and the cliffhanger being his infamous 'For God's sake, Penelope, will you marry me or not?' line from the books. And at first, there was all this buzz about how she'll say no and that's the cliffhanger because what if she picks someone else instead? What if he has to spend Part 2 convincing her?

In fairness to the fandom, that was dashed rather quickly. Firstly, we all know she won't say no to continue some semblance of a love triangle, because Debling is the personification of if flour was a spice, and he's not in part 2. Furthermore, it doesn't make much sense to have part 2 be Colin convincing her, when something much more pressing is hanging above them. Because the fandom caught on quickly as to the real conflict:

Does Penelope say yes to Colin, and continue hiding the fact that she's Lady Whistledown? Does she say no out of concern and part 2 is the unveiling? Or does she say no, and confesses?

And I think in our heart of hearts we already know: Penelope will say yes.

And in doing so, she will lie to him. Hide from him. And Lady Whistledown becomes the guillotine over their heads in part 2.

1: Penelope is on a narrative of self growth in Season 3. All leads are, but Penelope's narrative of growth is specifically to come out of the shadows. To be honest and open and brave in the light with nothing but herself and her own voice. And being those things? Yeah, not her strong suit as a character. It's the biggest pitfall she has, and it will not resolve halfway through. Penelope changes her outward appearance, and it still doesn't bring her full peace. Nicola herself has said that. She changes outwardly, but not inwardly, and that's where the real work has to be done. Lady Whistledown is proof that work has not been committed to. She is the manifestation of Penelope's fears of being herself aloud. A literal anonymous persona that can say what she feels she cannot aloud. Lady Whistledown is Penelope hiding, a wallflower in a masquerade mask. She's not going to be brave enough by Episode 4 to tell Colin. That's a whole season long arc. Furthermore

2: We would *all* say yes. All of us. We would all lie and hide in her circumstances. Here is the man she loves, who she has loved for years, coming to her and saying he wants her and cares for her and wants to marry her. She's not putting that in jeopardy. She says no to Debling (thank god, the man's an NPC in every definition of the word, Penelope deserves better) and so her options have narrowed, and really, she only *ever* wanted Colin. He has always been the ultimate desire of her heart. So she says yes to Colin. She wants to and she will. She wants *him*, and now she can have him. And in doing so, she fully solidifies herself as Marina's parallel. WHICH IS THE POINT.

2. a. sidequest: Marina is a vital part of Polin's story, but the fandom has missed that point. Instead of seeing what she as a character was meant to represent in their grand narrative, the fandom has instead demonized her. But in the same way Debling is a plot device to Polin's love story, so was Marina. Now, Marina at least got her own narrative, unlike Debling, who ONLY exists to be a plot point, but this is an analysis of Marina as a player in a narrative that isn't her own. I think Marina is a wonderful character, and I have a lot of sympathy for her, but the fandom saw her and villainized her. Which is SO not the point of her role in Polin's love story. The writers are all but slapping us in the face about that. EVERY character has sympathy for Marina. The narrative wants us to understand she was in difficult circumstances and did what she thought was best as a vulnerable young woman to survive. Which is the same, I imagine, it will do for Penelope in Season 3.

No, Marina's purpose in that particular narrative was to prove who Colin is as a suitor and a potential romantic match. That Colin is warm and open hearted, he is caring and empathetic, he is romantic, and most importantly, Colin is *forgiving*. When he says he would have married Marina regardless of her life altering and reputation ruining secret, that is to set him up for marrying Penelope regardless of her life altering and reputation ruining secret!!! That is the *whole* point!!!

And just like Marina, Penelope hides her truth from him, in fear of losing all that she has. I hope that kind of parallel FINALLY inspires some sympathy in our fandom for both these women, who, in Ruby Barker's wonderful words, are just players in a crappy game.

3: Even in being a sympathetic choice, it is still a cruelty she commits unto Colin. Because up until that point, they really don't owe each other much of anything. Yes, they have a friendship, and that comes with expectations, but in accepting a proposal, she owes him honesty. And she cannot give that to him. Colin lays all his cards down on the table for her to see, and she keeps her own hidden. Just like Shonda said, this becomes a relationship built on the foundation of a lie. It's the cracking open of that lie that finally allows them to be a fully realized couple. Colin loves a version of Penelope that isn't fully real, just like Penelope loved a version of Colin that wasn't fully real. An idealization of their selves. His temper, how he can sometimes say the wrong thing, his jealousy, his bitterness: she does not KNOW these things. But Whistledown unearths them. Just like he doesn't see *her* jealousy and bitterness, her temper, and how SHE can say and do the wrong thing. And, once more, *Whistledown unearths them*. They're not a happy perfect couple by the end of Part 1, because she lies to him. She accepts his proposal, and in doing so, she starts the clock. Tick Tock, how long does it take to tell him?

4: She doesn't tell him. I am fully of the mind that he has to find out on his own that she's LW. Perhaps Eloise sets a time limit for her, that she HAS to tell her brother (she's afraid, of course. what if he's mad? what if he doesn't want to marry her anymore?) (and what of him? what of Colin? does he not deserve to know?), or she'll tell him herself, but Penelope will likely try and then shrink back. She *wants* to tell him. I think that'll be the crux of Part 2. She wants to be honest with him, but she's afraid. So, like most of us when it comes to difficult circumstances, she'll hold off on it. And hold off on it.

Until he finds out on his own.

5: He'll find out on his own. And he will be *brutally betrayed by the news*. Not necessarily that she's LW, though that's a gut punch in and of itself, but more so that she kept it from him. That they've been intimate together, and bare with each other, and that she kept it from him. Keeping it from him as a friend is considerably different than keeping it from him as a lover and a fiance. They will be sharing a life together. A name, a home, and any punishments that befall her. The *Queen of England* is in her pursuit, she is, essentially, tying him to her in all events with the binding of marriage, and he sinks or swims with her. That's a pretty hefty thing to keep from a partner. And on top of it, he'll be hurt by the *lies*. That she could not confide in him. That he told her the truth, but she couldn't tell him the truth, and that will be painful. When it came to marrying Marina, it wasn't the pregnancy, the circumstance itself that he felt was a betrayal, but the lie. Same with Penelope: it isn't that she's Lady Whistledown, it's that she kept it from him. She also slagged him off plenty in it if rumours are anything to go by, and that (SPOILER) at the end of Episode 1, she trash talked him in the article right after they made amends, and is relatively horrified that she wrote it in anger and it was published after everything smoothed over. Even still, she has hurt him with that publication, too. It's a firestorm of things for him to be upset by.

6: And he still marries her. Here is a woman who has arguably hurt him the worst, done a greater harm and insult to him than anyone else, and he chooses to still marry her. Because he's angry, but he loves her. She betrays him and insults him and lies to him, but he loves her. She knew him, got close to him, let him speak to her of things that he would blush to speak to with anyone else (that line from S2 was WILD Colin, I see you, trusting boy), and she slags him off in her public article, and she pretends like she has nothing to hide, and she says yes to him even though she knows he doesn't like LW and that she'll have to tell him eventually, and what does Colin do? He forgives her. He forgives her and he asks her to stay and he loves her. He's jealous of her success, and he's upset that she lied to him, and he absolutely blows up. But after all that facade is stripped away, after all the lies and secrets are flayed aside and they are just Col and Pen, who are imperfect people with a hell of a devotion to each other, they know they're living a really beautiful love story. No pretenses, no pretend, just him, and just her, in the light, holding hands.

Because the whole point of Polin is being seen. Being seen and being accepted. Sometimes, you don't like what you see of a person. Penelope didn't like all she saw of Colin, and Colin won't like all he sees of Penelope, but they come to appreciate those parts of each other because in loving one another, they recognize that these imperfect, unsavory aspects of them make them who they are. And so they come out of it stronger.

So yes, Penelope says yes. Yes, Penelope lies to him. And yes, we'll have debates about it when Part 1 comes out, of 'she would never do that to him!!!' or 'well, she did it for xyz and oueyigohp;wfnd'

but in the end, I think it makes the most sense that she has to make this fuck up (and it is a fuck up, absolutely it is) so that they can grow from it. In the same way he had to fuck up so they can grow from it.

And that's the whole point.

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Companion piece to Idée Fixe.

(A journal entry that will never see the light of day, for it is meant to rot in darkness. Even the amoral owner is bound to agree with this).

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Chrollo is creepy hooooly shit (he needs a hobby), and religious imagery. Word count: 1k.

I have become hopelessly smitten with a woman who is, for lack of a better word, strange. 

She tells me she’s “probably agnostic, because that word sounds cooler than atheist”, while often exemplifying the religious doctrine she grew up in. She condemns herself for qualities she’d pardon in others. She’ll get excited over the most mundane things, such as pigeons, or when her rewards add up enough to get her favorite drink for free. I’m allowed to steal a certain amount before she stares at me, not quite comfortable enough to express her dissatisfaction verbally, yet undoubtedly pondering the perfect string of words to avoid offending me. 

The extent of her consideration for others is perplexing. There is no advantage to be gained by placating strangers, though her insistence on the matter would almost convince you otherwise. She never says “you’re welcome”, it’s always “of course”, as if the act of going so far out of her way is expected of her. If not that phrase, she’ll say “it’s no problem”, on the off chance the individual may think they burdened her. 

She’s strange, yes, but we’re alike in many ways, so I wonder what that’d make me. 

I’ve taken on innumerable roles throughout the years. I know how to judge the weight of my every word. My motivation for doing so is self-serving in nature. People, to me, are locks that require the right combination to crack. From what I can tell, she’s come to realize this too. Instead of pursuing this advantage, she shies away from it. Originally, I thought it was nothing more than people-pleasing, but it goes beyond that. She loves humanity, the same humanity I deem worthless. It’d be easier for me to understand if there was an ulterior motive. Alas, that'd be doing her a major injustice.

My initial intrigue in her was nothing more than a passing fancy. I had time to pass, and she just happened to be in the vicinity, reading a book I’m partial to. I thought I’d give her a few minutes of my time and then be on my way. Presently, however, If I believed in fate, I’d go so far as to say our paths were destined to cross. She is every part of myself that has died a slow death. Optimism, empathy, passion… they mix together to form the essence of her being. 

I didn’t intend to give her so much of my time. She became indispensable to me before I realized what was happening. In retrospect, perhaps I knew deep down that this was the type of person I’d been looking for. Someone I’d struggle between wanting to ruin or preserve. I erred toward the former at first. If I didn’t wake her from her naïve reverie, another would inevitably come down the line and do it themselves. The mere concept was unforgivable. 

As time passed, it became clear she wasn’t living in a dreamlike state, but was perfectly aware of her surroundings and the people who inhabit them. This left me at an impasse. How do you destroy someone who has already annihilated and rebuilt themselves? There are ways, yes, yet no longer did the idea appeal to me. I wanted something new from her, though the specifics alluded me. What I did know, however, was that this strange woman would touch many lives for the better. 

This was a constant torment. I’d have to go about my business, knowing full well she’s making others smile, laugh, and otherwise brightening their day elsewhere. My chest would become impossibly tight whenever I fixated on this. She holds qualities people are inevitably drawn to. She is radiance incarnate, so easy to adore. A light like that is visible far and wide.

When I pressed back against her dearly held beliefs, instead of fading, she burned ever brighter.

I know she feels it too — this invisible rope that binds us. She’ll happily talk to me for hours, even when I forgo superficial charm and express slivers of my depravity. She sees it, acknowledges it, and seeks me out all the same. I find myself talking more than I meant to when she’s around. She challenges me, interestingly enough. Her arguments often have holes and aren’t by any means polished, but she cuts to the heart of things. 

She is my personal torment. I want every inch of her for myself. Her unique mind, heart, soul… would it be enough? Could I stop there? Or would I keep going, taking more and more, until we were essentially one flesh? 

It’s by her recommendation I’m writing any of this down. She said “I am in desperate need of intensive therapy” and sent some links to her recommendations. I’m inclined to give in to her requests since she asks for so little, but that might be the one I have to refuse. I cannot recall the last time I met someone this amusing, if ever. The inner workings of her pretty little head are a mystery I long to unravel.

Displeased as I am to admit it, a day will pass when she no longer looks at me the way she does now. My true identity can’t go unknown forever, the revelation is inevitable. Still, I won’t let her go. My grip will only grow tighter. If her ire is my penance for possessing her entirely, then I’ll accept the sentence and chip away at it over time. Emotions are transient. With the right encouragement, I can guide her back to my arms, even if she considers the embrace a scourge. 

When we first met, she said something that has taken permanent residence in my mind. 

“So long as I can say I helped one person, that’s good enough for me.” 

This was always bound to be my benediction and her condemnation. 

From that moment onward, her life was mine to do with as I please. There are many far more worthy of her than I, which is why I’ll never give them the chance. I’ll deprive the world of her vibrancy. It could become engulfed in eternal darkness, and still, I’d happily refuse to give her back. Let them lament, weep, and gnash their teeth.

In my youth, I set out to be the greatest villain. Never have I been more willing to carry out the actions befitting such a lofty title. 

This is the curse of a wicked man’s love, [First] [Last]. Revisit your religion and pray fervently. For only a god could save you from the future I’ve planned for us.