#the storytelling is just too messy

[onlyifyoubadd]

johan is not cute with this "where you going" "who you with" "do my bidding" shtick.

i get so confused when a character is like "im gonna make their life hell and control them and then they'll love me". like whhhaaattt??

i hope they let north yell at everybody out of frustration and stress cause he's supposed to be enamored with this guy?? pass

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[hermesmoly]

Kaos ultimately failed as a show for not putting Menelaus as part of their “Big Three” as if the gods didn’t ultimately use his love for Helen as a weapon that killed Trojan masses

[daily-kagami]

Day #78: Movie-goers

[thirdtimed]

quite truthfully my very personal highly self indulgent interpretation of the life series & it as a timeloop specifically is like. entirely 10000% shaped by orvs metanarrative so if you want access to this specific interpretation that like maybe 2 or 3 total people globally hold you will unfortunately have to read 551 chapters of a korean webnovel that only exists in full via awkward fan translation. but it sounds tempting does it not

[hungwood]

/ ANYHOW! look at p.uppeteer's character design sheet !

[meowmeowmessi]

Laporta saying that so he can spin the "we did everything we could" narrative and blame Tebas or Messi when he inevitably DOESN'T do everything because he's just a piece of shit like that and people will eat it up anyway 😁 you know, I don't want Messi to go back. I want forcing him out like this and being the president who lost him and lied to him to forever be a blight on Laporta. I don't want his image rehabilitated.

tearss first lemme just say this is unreal levels of hating and i admire your dedication fkdjfk

second:

(ignore the source— brunati's the one who posted this, not sport)

looks like they're getting the league's approval + tebas also seems keen on having him back so i think this time it's actually serious. however, you are 100% allowed to drop a "i told you so" in my askbox if laporta chooses to stab messi in the back again lmao (said while coughing blood)

[sureuncertainty]

everyone hating on taylor swift constantly on this site makes me think about that post about how everyone had a twilight phase, either you were obsessed with twilight or you hated it but either way you had a phase where you devoted time and energy to twilight.

her being named time person of the year in 2023 is so accurate bc either you love her or you hate her but either way you devote a lot of energy to her. the way some of y'all on here feel the desperate need to prove how much you despise her shows how influential she really is lmao

[nethereasypeasy]

Some fluffy head canons I have about the Baldurs Babes

mainly at camp :)

Gale stops tav to lace their boots, sarcastically tutting as he does it.

Karlach holds her hands round someones bowl and cups to warm them if they cool down too much. (Mama K microwave™)

Jaheira and Halsin share nightcaps and chat about the tadpole team. Mainly laughing at their comparative lack of experience - always ends on a 'they're good eggs tho' vibe.

Astarion and Shadowheart rate people's hair to eachother as an injoke, tav hears them mumbling numbers behind them whenever they speak to someone.

Lae'zel asks Gale to explain and pronounce things when no one is around because the 'annoying wizard' won't make fun, he's too eager to teach.

Jaheira has the best bedtime stories but they get Karlach hyped up and she asks a lot of questions till Astarion begs her to be quiet. Wyll takes mental notes for his own storytelling.

Karlach will force a game of 'I Spy' any time there is silence on the road.

Wyll is very good at little random gifts, he just remembers anything someone mentions to him. He's also low-key emotional if you return that kindness, 'you remembered?! 😭'

Halsin stops, kneels and whispers as he points and shows tav interesting plants or animals he spots when walking. 'look there's the mother and her babies' type shit. (He is camp dad(dy) ok)

Wyll teaches Lae'zel fencing. She's too keen though and tries to pin him down. She is not as graceful... But she has fun... chk!

Gale keeps a tiny portrait of Tara on him, you can't tell me modern au Gale's phone wouldn't be full of cat pics.

Astarion watches over the camp at night, he acts like he 'might as well/ I'm the only one lurking in the dark around HERE darlings' but sometimes he secretly gets a little teary looking at his first real friends all together.

Shadowheart writes moody poetry. She would tell Gale but she doesn't care for his taste... Or his possible critiques. If he ever did find her journal though he would be VERY enthused.

Astarion and tav will play with people's wardrobes when looting. Tav loves a funny hat and Astarion will do impressions of who he thinks would wear such god's awful attire.

Gale and Wyll play chess together after dinner some nights. They both say progressively cheesy lines when they take pieces, which is its own game itself at this point.

Halsin would quietly sing or hum to owlbear baby and scratch at night. Little lullabies and he'd probably tuck them in too. OR he'd be big daddy bear and snuggle up, especially when owlbear is scared and misses his mum.

The gang have played 'never have I ever' ONE time and ONE time only. It was a messy night.

... Jaheira was 100% last man standing.

[sky-is-the-limit]

I don’t think people fully understand the sheer gravity of Destiel.

Like, this isn’t just a story about an angel falling in love with a human or another fanon ship that was created just because two dudes were standing too close.

This is an angel, a being forged by God, programmed to follow orders, incapable of free will, the literal embodiment of divine obedience!!! choosing to rebel. For one man. For Dean Winchester.

Think about it. Castiel wasn’t made to feel. He wasn’t made to question. He was made to serve, to follow heaven’s will without hesitation and then he meets Dean. He saves him from hell and in that moment, that exact fucking moment, his entire purpose shifts. Dean didn’t just change his mind cause we are not talking about another mortal being. He changed his entire fucking existence.

And here’s the kicker of it all. God, the all-knowing, all-powerful storyteller, couldn’t stop it. God, who controlled the narrative, who created Castiel and set the rules of the universe, couldn’t stop him from falling. Cas didn’t just disobey orders!!!!!!! He shattered the divine design. He looked at Heaven, at the eternity he was promised and said, "No. I choose him." Insane.

Do you understand how fucking huge that is? This isn’t a simple love story. This is cosmic rebellion and the writers couldn’t even grasp the insanity of what they created for a CW show.

It’s tragic and overwhelming because Cas didn’t fall in love with Dean for any selfish reasons. He didn’t want anything back. He didn’t expect Dean to love him, didn’t need his affection or validation. He never got to touch him or kiss him or get the "I love you too" that all of us wanted to hear. He just wanted to be near him. To help him. To save him, over and over, to make sure that Dean knew that he had someone who was looking after him.

And the cost? It was everything and people just brush over that.

Cas gave up Heaven. He gave up grace. He gave up the safety of eternity and purpose to stay in Dean’s proximity. Not because he was destined to, not because God told him to but because he *chose* to. That’s what makes it so tragic. It wasn’t written. It wasn’t meant to happen. Castiel broke the rules of his existence for someone who didn’t even realise the depth of it until it was too late.

Then THAT moment. When Cas says, "You changed me, Dean." It just hits different, doesn’t it??? Cause it’s not just a love confession. it’s a revelation. He confirms it right there that it was Dean's humanity that did it. Not some grand cosmic force, not some divine intervention. Dean himself, in all his flawed, beautiful, self-sacrificial mess, changed everything.

Dean, who always put others before himself, who had to raise himself, who gave everything to Sam and kept nothing for him. Dean, who was destined to always be second, to always sacrifice his own needs for someone else. Dean, whose car that he loved so much, his only constant, even that belonged to his father. Dean, whose clothes were probably second-hand, whose childhood was spent taking care of his little brother. Dean, whose purpose was always for the world, for the greater good and never for himself.

For the first time, Dean had something that was his. Something that wasn’t meant for anyone but him. Cas was HIS. Not for God, not for his father, not for Sam or the world.

This isn’t just a story about love!!! It’s *the* story about love. It’s messy and painful and romantic in the most devastating way cause Cas didn’t just rebel against heaven, people!!! He rewrote the entire concept of free will, of devotion, of sacrifice!!!!

He loved Dean with everything he was and that love was strong enough to defy God himself.

It’s the greatest, most tragic, most insane fictional story of our lifetime. Nothing will ever come close.

[cinhomi]

𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roommate Kim Seungmin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after a movie night with your roommate, or alternatively, your crush, you woke up a bit later than usual. he was supposed to be at work by that hour, but you couldn't imagine that he would sleep in too... and you couldn't imagine him seeing you on top of your pillow moaning his name.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: soft dom Seungmin, masturbation, pillow humping (and reader gets caught oopsie), fingering, penetrative sex, oral (m & f receiving), cum play.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.4K

I'm afraid that the end is kind of rushed... I'm sorry about that, I was a bit tired and just wanted to finish it :")

It was pretty late when your head frist laid on the pillow the night prior. Maybe it was a bit stupid to decide to stay up at such ridiculous hours, but the trilogy you were watching with Seungmin was too interesting to drop everything at the first movie and keep the fun for the next day, so you two tried to sit with your back as straight as possible in your shared couch that was very much inviting you both to sleep, drank sugar-based drinks and kept the volume as high as to not disturb your flatmates but still enaugh to have you two awake and keep your attention on the screen.

You and Seungmin enjoyed watching movies together and discuss them, but beside that you weren't as close as others would expect. At least in your opinion. Sure, being roommates let you two know your preference in matters such as 'how you prefer your coffee' or 'what type of shampoo is best for your hair' or even 'I'll wash your jumper like that because I know it's made of wool and it's delicate', but he didn't really talk to you about himself.

He wasn't cold towards you or anything, but he preferred silence most of the times, or at least, that was what you understood. When one day after a few months of living together you asked him if there was something that he didn't like about your cohabitation, he said that it was fine, that you were perfect, keeping everything clean and respecting the turns for all chores without complaining.

So why? Why didn't he feel the desire to know you better? Every time he mentioned his family or a past memory of his, you listened carefully, like he was a famous storyteller. His life was for a fact very interesting, he wasn't a boring guy, and still, you couldn't comprehend the reason behind his secrecy. He brought his friends home just a few times, you never saw a girl beside yourself in the house, and he never talked about one. When he left he would always come home with something for the apartment, so you thought that maybe he wasn't one to go to parties and stuff.

Despite everything, you found youself developing a little crush. Well, maybe a bit more than 'little'. Seungmin was a simple guy, really… but he provided comfort, always. He landed you a snack when he could sense that you were feeling down, covered you with part of his blanket when he felt you trembling beside him in the evening, often entered your room while you were on your desk with a tray in his hands, with a glass of water and freshly cutted fruit, leaving it on top of your messy papers. Sometimes he would come back from his grocery trip and tell you to take something from a bag, like the pack of clips he found discounted, because "I heard you lost yours the other day, so I thought they would be useful to you", or he would delicately take the knife from your hands while cooking together because "you'll hurt youself is you chop these like that, here, let me show you…".

Who wouldn't feel butterflies in their stomach? Only fools. On top of that he was extremely attractive, even more when you couldn't recall not even half a time you saw him shirtless. It never happened. He, on his behalf though, saw you just in your prettiest pantie-bra set one time, when he forgot to knock on your door to tell you to hurry up to go to work in the morning.

He became very careful after that time, a blush creeping on his cheeks every time you brought that up while attempting to mess with him, but never making him suspect your desire for that to happen again.

The sight of your mixed clothes inside the laundry basket made your heart race every single time. The lingering scent of his cologne in the bathroom whenever he left to go out made you sigh and daydream. The plastic containers of homemade food with little notes on top for you in the fridge almost made you cry. You made the best dreams every night that he remembered to wish you a warm "good night, y/n". Kim Seungmin was a little mysterious, and you didn't know much about him, but he cared about you, a little bit at least.

But that morning he didn't care about you enaugh to wake you up and prevent you from arriving late at work. Well, you supposed he would've already left because Seungmin never got up late.

It was half past noon already, and you decided to send a message and excuse your absence with a sudden stomach ache, that would strangely disappear the next day. You stayed sprawled on your bed for a while, letting your brain work and retrace the previous night's events.

His hand absent mindedly resting on your thigh, squeezing it a bit whenever the tension in the movie would rise and make you shift on the edge of your seats. He rarely touched you, respecting your personal space religiously, but when the occasion would occur your whole body electrified. His 'classic guitar calloused hands' on your smooth skin were a sensation that would remain engraved in your flesh for a long time.

His angelic voice dropping to a deeper and rougher one while the night progressed making you jump whenever he spoke to you, parted lips licked by his tongue when there was a scene he wanted to concentrate and analyze attentively.

Before you knew it, a hand traveled from your stomach to your belly, dancing on it for a while, just to reach under your cotton pants; you were already wet just by thinking about him, and not even making up scenarios in your head. You then went past your panties and run a finger on your slit, spreading your juices everywhere. Maybe if he knew that you touched yourself so often thinking about him he would be disgusted, but you couldn't really help it. Besides, being home alone, maybe you could do something more than your usual routine and make the pleasure last a bit longer.

The pillow that was under your head istantly flew in the middle of the bed, while you got rid of all your clothes; with a sigh you straddled it adjusting the material comfortably between your legs. You could already feel your juices coating the pillowcase sticking to your folds, feeling it a bit rough on them… but you liked it, so much. You didn't ride your pillow that often, only when Seungmin wasn't home and you really wanted to take your time and savour your orgasm, and it was so, so worth it.

Images of Seungmin started flooding your mind: muscled forearms peeking from his shirt, faint traces of his abs when the latter would stuck to his abdomen when laid on the sofa, v-line greeting the world whenever he stretched in front of you in the morning, jaw contracting whenever he was thinking hard about something. You moved slowly, the little friction already making you whine in excitement.

You started to imagine how the grip he had on your thigh would feel on your hips instead, while making you slide back and forth on his lap, pussy against his cock, teasing before fucking it into you. You held your breasts, imagining his hands instead of yours, groping and playing with them to his liking. You started to squeeze, to fondle them, occasionally pinching a nipple and holding it between your fingers making it almost hurt.

"Seungmin…" you were already whispering, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

Your movements got gradually quicker snapping your hips upwards and in circles too, making your clit rub on the fabric while your brows furrowed at the stinging sensation.

"Like… l-like that Seungmin, yes, yes…" short huffs escaped between your words as you lowered a bit and were now keeping yourself up with your elbow, one hand caressing your body and lingering a bit more around your hole.

You started to press harder on the pillow, soft moans filling the space as your imagination projected Seungmin behind you, your breath becoming unstable.

But you really didn't know that he was right behind the corner at the entrance of your room, with the door wide open, and that he was palming his achingly hard cock through his pants. And he felt a bit guilty when he first heard your moans from his room minutes before and didn't just put his earphones on to later reveal that he wasn't at work that morning, and that he fell asleep while listening to music, so at your "did you hear anything weird?" he could reply that no, no he didn't. But how could anyone ever resist with such noises coming from the most beautiful girl he ever met? From the girl he had a crush for, on top of that? You were touching yourself, being intimate with your body, your smoking hot body, seeking pleasure and ecstasy for yourself.

But while he was jerking off to your moans in his own bed he heard a name: it was muffled because of his closed door and the corridor between your rooms, but he was too damn curious to let it slide like that. So he just tucked his erection in his pajamas shorts and got up, approaching your room careful to not make any noise.

And that was when he heard it clearly. And that was when he finally peeked beyond the corner. And you were so, so beautiful in his eyes, with the soft light coming outside the window reflecting on your skin, bed hair framing your pleased face while you adorably grinded your pillow squishing it between your thighs, moaning his name.

But he still couldn't believe it. You weren't really thinking about him right?

"Seungmin! Fuck, f-faster! Faster…"

He felt his heart getting caught in his throat and all self-inibitions leave his body. He then stood in front of the entrance, observing you in silence. Seungmin bit his lip, breathing like he ran ten miles before that moment. He prepared mentally for his next step.

"Y/n."

You froze in place with your eyes still closed. Were you starting to have hearing allucinations? Probably. So you slowly opened your eyes and looked at your right: Seungmin was there.

Your vision started to get blurry from the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to streak your cheeks. Wasn't he supposed to be at work? Damn… everything was going to get ruined, he would tell you to leave and search for another place, he would hate you forever andー

"Is it me?" his voice soft, searching for your answer as he slowly entered the room.

You took the sheets in front of you to cover yourself a little, swiping the tears on the corner of your eyes with them.

"Wh-what?"

"Is it me, the Seungmin you were thinking about?"

The air in the room got dense. He wasn't looking at your body at the moment, he focused on your face. On your expression, your trembling lips that he was dying to kiss for months.

Seungmin was a man of few words, really, but he could get pretty loose and cool with people that got to know him over time. He didn't necessarly lust over your appereance, he just liked you. You were his main interest, he found all your little habits adorable, he thought that your mind, your way of thinking was extraordinary. He always paid attention to when you talked about yourself, interests, ideas.

But he was quite afraid to open up to you, even if he tried to do that day by day, at his own pace. What if you found him weird? Or you didn't like his personality at all and decided to go away? You were perfect for him, but he wasn't sure to be perfect for you. He knew you were special from the first moment he opened the door to greet you the first time, with your marvelous smile, bags and suitcases around you. You made him nervous.

Seungmin was nervous around you, but wanted to make you live comfortably even if he needed to split the rent. He wanted to let you live your life without a worry. Maybe one day he would have the courage to tell you his true feelings, but he needed to understand if you wanted something quiet, something like the first visible light in the morning, a field moved only by fresh wind, whispered sweet nothings between two people that are about to fall asleep.

Because a love with Seungmin would've been peaceful, with silence disturbed only by meaningful phrases or laughter.

"Seungmin please don't get mad, please."

"I'm not mad, I swear." he started to get closer, until he was in front of you. He kneeled on the floor, reaching your hands on your chest, stroking them.

"I just need you to tell me that you were moaning my name and not the one of another Seungmin, because your answer may change our entire life together."

You looked down at him with big confused eyes and he wanted to take your face and squish it before hugging you tight. If it was him, if it was really him…

"I don't know any other Seungmin." you sobbed, crying a bit harder. He felt relieved. He took your hands in his properly near his lips, kissing your knuckles, letting the sheets fall exposing your chest once again. Maybe he really had a chance to show his true self, and maybe, just maybe, you could love him honestly.

"Will you let me help you with that?"

For a moment you thought it was a dream. He was looking as beautiful as ever, touching you so delicately, and… was he hard?

For the first time that day you looked up in his eyes. They were sparkling, they made your core tighten.

"Let me. Let me take care of you." he got up from the floor and sat on your bed, guiding your arms around his neck to then gently hold your waist.

"Do you… do you like me?"

Your trembling lips made him furrow his brows. Having you so vulnerable in front of him, having you naked in his hands, he thought he prayed the right god while looking up the sky.

"You're the only one I answer the phone to when I have my vocal lessons. I do like you, a lot actually"

His passion for music and singing was the only thing you were certain about him. Oh, his voice when he sang random songs during the day, when he thought you weren't listening. Would he sound as amazing while being with you?

He lightly pushed you to lay down and discarded the pillow to replace it with him. Seungmin took a moment to admire you, slowly letting himself explore you with his gaze, not getting too close to where you wanted him most.

"Can I touch you, y/n?"

He was behaving like a prince. You really did think he was a prince, with all the times he was so gentle with you.

What was he expecting, a 'no'?

You nodded. He smiled. You tugged at his shirt. He took it off. Your jaw dropped.

It was as if a neoclassical artist sculped him with their own hands. Your eyes went from his collarbones, to his pecs, his abs, to then land on the light brown happy trail that disappeared under the elastic of his pants. You seriously didn't stop looking until he lifted your chin to analyze your reaction better.

"You're so beautiful Min." you said, words whispered for him and him only. Seungmin blushed because of the compliment, your needy tone, how you called him. He thought that he could get used to it. He took your hands in his once again, guiding them up your head while he lowered to be close to your face.

"You should see yourself then. I'm nothing compared to you dove" and after that, unpredictably, he kissed you. He finally fulfilled his need to have you close emotionally and phisically letting his plump lips rest on yours, moving slowly to let you feel all the passion he was feeling at the moment.

You two sighed, almost relieved that all that was happening even if not in the conventional order described by romance movies and novels.

The kiss was interrupted by Seungmin, that started to wander, leaving pecks on your jaw, behind your ear, to arrive at your neck inhaling your scent.

"Do you always touch yourself thinking about me when I'm out?"

The sudden question made you squeal, shame already making you look away.

"I'm joking! Look at me, hey." he cupped your cheek, your eyes meeting once again.

"I think it's cute. I do that too when you're out, you know? I dreamed about this moment for so long… I have too many things to tell you. Will you have the patience to listen to me, after this?"

He looked like a lost puppy, quite literally. It was as if he had his ears all low, a frown forming on his face while he patienty waited for your response while you felt crazy embarassed by the hidden confession of him touching himself to you too.

"I'll listen to anything you have to say, Seungmin."

You both smiled. The world outside didn't exist anymore, it was just you and Seungmin, in your bed, naked, about to make your fantasies happen.

You didn't even register his hand lowering down until you felt his fingers caress your cunt, lazily going through your folds. Gosh, you were so wet and he was still waiting, but he was just afraid that you would disappear with him waking up. But you were real, so real that when your whimpers reached his ears he hid in the crook of your neck to not let you hear his moan as a response.

Seungmin let one finger enter you, your legs becoming rigid around him from the sudden decision. After two pumps he added a second, curling them upwards and making them dance inside you. Where was prince Seungmin of few second before? Well, if he was going to fuck you like that you didn't really care. He took his thumb over your clit, slowly circling it and feeding off of your sounds. He didn't forget what you were doing before all that sweet talk; Seungmin beside being a man of few words, was a man with certain needs too.

"Open your legs wider dove, please" and you did as told, without even thinking about your actions, his words becoming your law.

He went down, down, down, until you saw his face at the same level of your pussy, with his fingers long gone from inside you, now smering your juices around his lips, licking them after.

Was he… really Kim Seungmin, your roommate? The most normal man you've ever encountered? He looked too hot doing that. But you needed to learn to not let your guard down with him: his fingers were inside you again, pumping faster than before. It was a bit embarassing that you were already about to cum, but you realized that he interrupted your orgasm few minutes before, after all.

"Min-" you tried to make him slow down by grabbing his wrist, but he was abviously tronger, and your attempts did nothing to his determination to have you seeing the entire galaxy during the afternoon. Yes, with him it was possible. He looked at you, with a soft smile that wasn't really suitable considering what you were doing.

"Don't worry y/n. Give it to me."

And again, you did what you were told. There was just something about his calmness, his gaze, the way he was playing you like his precious guitar, that made you squeeze your eyes shut and gush around his digits. Seungmin was happy, like the luckiest man on the planet. He was smiling like a child in front of a pile of candy. And he thought of you as a candy indeed, getting closer to your glistening cunt and licking it clean with long, slow motions of his tongue, silent moans making your vision blur.

But it wasn't fair. He was making you feel like a spoiled princess, and he was still there with an uncomfortable erection while you were doing nothing for him.

"Let- let me help you too Min… please!" he reserved his attention to you, detaching from your core.

You managed to sit up, your head a bit dizzy while getting on your knees, waiting for him to lower his pants. You too, thought you prayed the right god looking up the sky once you saw his length. What made you bite your lip wasn't his cock per se, but the entirety of his body. Why did he try so hard to hide all that? But you thanked him for that, deep down. Who knows how you would've acted if you knew he was built like that…

Your train of thoughts came to an end when he stroked your cheek, looking at you with big loving eyes; you didn't waste any more time, delicately wrapping a hand around him while the other got caught with one of his.

He didn't say anything, but with a nod he let you know that you could go ahead. You left a short kiss on his tip. He shuddered: you were being even more gentle than he could ever imagine, more than he could try to recreate with his own hand while thinking of you. Your little kitten licks made his eyes roll to the back of his head, your mouth gradually wrapping around him made him curse under his breath while he squeezed the hand he was holding. Simply the vision of your sweet face taking his cock was a bit too much.

"I can't, y/n I can't" he delicately made you back up, sighing: "I want to be inside, sorry."

You started to breathe again after holding as much air as possible in your lungs, heart ready to drop. You giggled at his distress.

"You have any protection here?"

You pointed at your left: "on the bedside table. I-it's just in case, y'know, it's not like I actually put them to use!"

Seungmin chuckled at your comment, calmly climbing over you to reach the drawer.

"You're the first guy that doesn't complain about it."

"Because I'm not a guy. I'm a man for you."

Oh. Waves of arousal washed over you again.

Before you knew it he was lining himself with your entrance, kissing you with such fervor you felt like spinning. And before you knew it he was inside you. And before you knew it he was stretching you with care and attention, letting you moan past his shoulders while he concentrated on his thrusts. Your walls wrapping around his cock, welcoming him like he was meant to stay there.

"Min- feels so good Min…"

He picked up his pace, faintly moaning, almost afraid of you hearing how much he was enjoying that. Suddenly he left you empty, confusion taking place on your face, just to transform in shock as he made you flip with your back against his chest, going inside you all the way in one motion, directly hitting your sweet spot: oh, the angle was perfect, heavenly, he decided that after your yelp.

Seungmin started to thrust again with more meaning, keeping you up by wrapping an arm around your belly pressing down on it, and the other over your chest. You let your head drop against his shoulder, getting lost in your own pleasure.

"You're amazing y/n- perfect, perfect."

You started squeezing him, getting closer once again as you felt him throb inside you, and Seungmin let out a grunt, fucking you at a rougher pace not caring about you holding youself up just by gripping his arms.

He caught your lips again, and that was it. That kiss was the one that set you on fire, making you two release, silently, continuing to move one against the other even after the peak.

When you two calmed down he gently placed you down, quickly getting up and disappearing for a short time, coming back with your towel, his wrapped around his hips.

Not a word was exchanged while he carefully cleaned you, leaving a peck here and there making your smile get wider and wider. He covered you up, just to get under the covers with you and wrap you in a warm embrace while playing with your hair.

"Are you hungry?" he asked before pressing his lips on your temple.

"A little bit…"

"We didn't have breakfast."

"But it's late, we could have lunch now."

"What if we have breakfast and lunch. I need my girl to be full of energy."

You looked at him with the most beautiful expression he ever saw on your face.

"Then we can talk about how cute you look riding a pillow, and how you can ride my face the same way, yeah?"

The next five minutes consisted in Seungmin trying to convince you to remove your hands from your face hiding from embarassment to let him kiss you for the thousand time, with a whole new warm sensation spreading in your chest.

Maybe you thought you weren't close, but how he treated you was enaugh to let you know that you were so, so wrong. That Seungmin showed his love and appreciation through actions, and that he needed just few words. You found out that he was just limiting himself because he had a huge crush on you, and that he had more to give than what he showed to others… it just took the right people to let out his true potential. And one of those people was you.

If you were sure about his love for music and singing, well, you soon would become sure about his love for you.

[thesharktanksdriver]

Star covered hug booth (platonic)

Not canon but just some plane what if fun based on an ask from awhile back. Also sorry I’ve been inactive I’ve had some burnout as of late alongside starting second year university lol

Send me asks for characters you’d like to see hug Determination! Y/n

Masterlist for determination!

In life Nami had many things she has come to love.

For one she loved her mom Bellemere and sister Nojiko (as well as Genzo, a man who was the only father-figure she had in her life despite how she butted heads with him). Nami loved them wholeheartedly, loved them so deeply she sacrificed her childhood to ensure Bellemere’s sacrifice was not in vain.

She loved Cocoyashi. Loved the quaint island village she called home, the old beaten paths she’d chart on her first mock maps. Loved its people that despite having their pockets nicked by her small nimble hands still cared for her (only years later did she learn that many would let her get away with taking their wallets and would give Bellemere discounts for things she needed).

She loved tangerines and oranges. The smell of them lingered on her and in her dreams as the soft memories of that home on a cliffside played in her mind. The sweet taste that stuck to her tongue, the white blossoms in the spring and the color that matched the sunsets that she would peer out at through windows.

She loved money, she felt more secure with it after the years of barely scraping by and being extorted. Liked being able to provide for herself things that seemed more like a childish dream rather than a reality. Nami liked buying clothes, jewels, supplies and things for everyone on board even if they had not noticed. She also used it as a way to tie people to her, by having a “debt” it meant that they would not leave her (even if in her mind she knows they won’t).

And most of all Nami loved her crew.

Nami loved the idiot she called a captain. Dressed in flip flops and his raggedy straw hat sitting like a crown atop messy raven hair along with a stretched out smile across his face.

loved the moss haired swordsman without a sense of direction. How loyalty ran through his blood and his unwavering spirit in spite of the situations they ended up in.

Loved the blond haired cook who went out of his way to feed the crew with a grin. A cigarette hung limply on his lips whilst he handed off Hand made drinks specially catered to individual tastes.

Loved the long nosed cowardly sniper who she leant on for support as one of the only sane ones left on this crew. Their shared dry remarks on ridiculous situations before laughter replaced it.

Loved the blue nosed little doctor that plastered wounds with bandaids with their Jolly Roger. His bursts of bashfulness at being told he did a good job and his love of all things pink and sweet.

Loved the calm and cool historian who never failed to make her feel appreciated. The woman who never asks about the nightmares (nor does Nami ask about her own) but instead silently comfort each other.

Loved the shipwright with flashy chains and a steel hard smile. The man who puts love into their vassal with each nail and board while making unconventional machines that make everyone else smile.

Loved the joke making skeleton with annoying questions but with the soul of a true musician. Ivory bones drifting along similarly ivory keys whilst the crew listened to his songs of old.

Loved the reserved yet hearty presence of the helmsman that helps her through her trauma of fish and scales. The way he uses graceful movements of his karate that’s used to water her tangerines before he splashes a nearby Luffy.

And finally Nami loved the starry-eyed storyteller of the crew. The cherub face of an old soul that has seen too much of the world and has yet to change. A child stuck to watch the world around them change, telling the stories lost to time and later their own mind.

Nami loved her crew.

Maybe that was a bit of an understatement, but the point still stands.

…..but god did she sometimes loath their spending habits which leads her to this situation now.

As the only person on this damn boat with any Handle on money (besides Sanji when he’s not head over heels) she can’t help but want to bash her head in. Because along with being the navigator she handles the money, but evidently that didn’t matter to her stupid (affectionate) crew mates.

No Luffy you can’t buy 5 tons of meat just because your hungry.

No Zoro you can’t buy an oceans worth of booze because you feel like it.

No Sanji you can’t just buy every woman in a crowd a necklace because their “angels sent by heaven”.

No Ussop you can’t just buy a bunch of random supplies for your bombs half that stuff doesn’t make sense.

No chopper you can’t stalk up on cotton candy…the medical supplies is allowed though knowing this crew.

No Robin you can’t have another library on board when our room is already stacked from top to bottom in books.

No Franky for the love of god please stop buying supplies for robots we already have enough of them.

No Brook you don’t need a glass piano we already have 3 different pianos on the sunny.

No jimbe…actually no Jimbe your good because you're actually an responsible adult…wait why do you have so many Hawaii shirts-

And finally you. The only person on this crew who sticks to the budget but never actually buys anything for themself. Honestly she’d be happy if you went over budget and got yourself something, but she knows that’ll happen when Luffy becomes a vegetarian.

Nami loves her crew but god does that seem to screw her over.

They barely had enough to afford supplies at the next port, and though stealing wasn’t off the table laying low would be nice. Especially since her idiot of a captain just had to make a ruckus recently and have a good portion of the marines on their tail.

She’d really like to avoid another jailbreak.

So with that in mind she needed cash quickly.

And with that formed various schemes and ideas.

Form a mlm? Nah too much time to invest in.

Rob a bank? Too much attention.

Form a big distraction and then rob people blind? Shed and most of the crew would avoid doing that to civilians if possible.

And with all those x’d out ideas in mind she finally came to one that seemed plausible.

Somehow you had gained the friendship of many people over your many years of living. From almost all the warlords to Yonko’s and even admirals.

And knowing this Nami’s mind started a scheme. One that left her conflicted.

Because as much as their finances needed it, she wasn’t alright if it made you uncomfortable.

===

It’s partially halfway to their next destination that Nami sits herself next to you whilst you watch the waves. They lapped over one another, folding into the endless blue complimented by bubbling white foam. The sight never seemed to grow old to your eyes, even after so many years of watching the same sight once more as the day continued in its mellowness.

Normally someone of the crew would come to join you so it’s not too surprising when Nami joins.

But what is surprising is when she speaks up instead of continuing in sweet silence.

“We’re low on funds and I had an idea” she starts slowly, she picks beneath her nails, a nervous habit of hers. You noticed it quite easily, for as much as Nami wanted to look like she’s calm and in control you’d alway noticed the cracks in her resolve. It’s what you respected about her. The way she always tried to act like a pillar for others to lean on even when she was as brittle and scared as everyone else.

“Sure thing” you say, still looking out towards the waves.

“But you didn’t-“

“Nami I trust you.”

You think that for a moment that breaks her, shattering her heart into thousands of tiny pieces. Though that should hardly be surprising to her, because of course you trusted her. She was your navigator, your friend. You had every reason to, yet still it resonates within her deeply.

“You didn’t even hear what it was” her tone is slightly chiding, yet lingering fear still makes itself known despite your previous comment. “I had the idea for a hug booth…you know so many people who’d go to the end of the earth for you” she seems slightly uncomfortable saying this, as if slightly upset at herself.

“Yeah sure thing.” You say once more.

Instead of silence though you're met by her ocher brown eyes.

Nami places her hands gently on your shoulders, getting down on a knee to look you in the eye on your level. She looks for apprehension, yet finds none.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks this with a tone that indicates how serious she is “if you're not that’s fine and I can think of something else. But I need to know if you're ok with this.”.

She watches a smile cross your face, small hands that were soft yet should be weathered over the years and years you’d been alive gently cupping her cheeks. You’d done this before to ground her, those nights filled with nightmares of Arlong that left her crying and grasping for anything to hold. The ones where she’d desperately want to curl up and disappear into herself, the ones where she'd look to her shoulder and still see the tattoo beneath the cover up.

It was a gesture of sincerity.

“I’m alright with it, Nami.”

Your eyes sparkle.

“I would’ve said I wasn’t if I was. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing who shows up! Plus it’ll be nice to see some old friends again”

At that Nami nods, a shaky breath leaving her as she stands back up. She swallows down the last bit of fear and anxiety about pushing you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.

And then her game face quickly takes over.

Her head snaps towards Usopp and Franky’s direction.

“Get to work on advertisements and a booth pronto. You’ll get a bigger cut in the budget I’ve set”

===

On the grand line there was a small island that was considered an odd outlier to that of many other islands.

The island of “plote devi’cee” was one that served as a neutral ground for both marines and pirates alike. It started decades ago due to a legend, a daughter of a marine falling in love with a pirate. The meeting of the boyfriend and dad didn’t go well as expected, the boyfriend ended up dead as did the dad which left the girl heartbroken and supposedly cursing the island.

So long as pirates or marines stepped foot on its soil no fights could happen.

Lest they suffer like the poor fools all those years ago who had their ships decimated via sea kings and such bad weather that the ship capsized.

This is important due to the fact that it was the perfect place to set up shop.

You’d been to this place a few times before, so when mentioning it to Nami for this money making scheme it seemed like the only logical place it could work.

With the pamphlets handed out via news birds and your crows they’d inevitably end up at Marineford. So better to be on neutral territory for both marine and pirates without having the operation busted.

So with that in mind and the sunny docked Nami took quickly to setting up shop.

The small booth Franky constructed stood proud and strong atop a small hill just outside the village of the island. Just far enough out of the way as to not disturb their peaceful lives as you sat in your booth waiting. Drapes of cloth created a small doorway and privacy for you and the future customers. Mostly since you’d known this would likely get emotional for more than a few people (perhaps even yourself). Now thinking about it though, it seemed more like a tent and booth but “y/n’s hug booth” was definitely more of a zinger.

Just outside holding a large set of jars were Sanji and Zoro, your “guards” and debt collectors for Nami. Behind your stand was Robin sitting in a small sun chair. An ear inside the booth to listen for the secret sign of you being uncomfortable, 3 taps on the wood and then it would be the signal for zoro and Sanji to drag off whoever was inside.

It wasn’t fully fool proof but it was enough for you to be comfortable enough.

And so you wait.

But it seems not for long as you hear the exasperated murmur of Nami not far away from the booth.

“That’s a lot of ships”.

Seems like the hugging shall begin.

Boa Hancock

Before even seeing the curtain open, you hear Sanji’s commotion of “my eyes have been blessed by a goddess-“ before a subsequent thwack sound resonating in the air. You're not sure who hit Sanj whether From Zoro, Nami or Boa herself but the curtain opens and there enters the empress of the Amazon Lily herself.

The proclaimed most beautiful woman in the world and snake princess warlord.

She sits down, posed and perfect on the small stool. Long legs crossed as you watch the apathy from her face fade at now being in private with you.

It’s odd for you to see her public persona of uncaring, cruel and selfish. Not when you know at heart she’s a girl who’s been victim to the most vicious of cruelties. A woman who longs to be kind yet cannot face being hurt once more, someone who’d rather push those closest away if it ensured their safety.

It’s why you smile when a soft expression covers her face.

“Sorry if Sanji gave you trouble, he’s a massive flirt…and a simp. He means well though, just takes a bit far sometimes” you say a little exasperated as you rub the back of your neck. She gives a small chuckle, the sound of it is soft and pretty like wind chimes and birdsong.

“He’s a man, I’ve dealt with plenty worse.” It comes off as slightly mocking towards the blond, though you’d let it slide knowing her experience with men���plus as much as you loved Sanji he was a bit over the top “besides, I came here to see you.”.

“I must be lucky then. Having been graced with the presence of an empress” the tone is accented by a slight giggle. One that she mirrors with a true smile, one not marred by fakeness or lies, just genuine.

“It’s…it’s good to see you again”

“It’s good to see you too Hancock”

You open your arms, and she reaches forwards to warp you in her own.

Her hug is stiff at first, as if she had not felt the comfort of arms holding her in a very long time and still trying to uphold her mask of stone cold empress. But much like her mask, it cracks and breaks.

What once was stiff arms much like when she petrified people circled around you soon melts.

She pulls you closer, resting her head atop your shoulder as she just holds you and you hold her.

The floral scent of the Amazon lily creates a pleasant smell that wafts within the tent. Roses, peonies, lilacs and of course Lillie’s tickle your nose. It’s much different from your scent of sea salt and dust covered books.

It takes a moment but you quickly begin to hear soft sobs leave her. Tears trailing down and making your shoulder dampen.

You don’t mind.

You just pat her head as gently as you can.

Once more Boa Hancock does not feel like a heartless warlord nor a scared little girl huddled in a cell.

Boa was just Boa.

She was more than the beauty, the power or the brand on her back.

She was more than just her body.

And that’s more priceless than anything she could ever imagine.

“Thank you” her voice is quiet and gentle, something few people would ever have the luxury of hearing.

“No need to thank me Boa.”

To her, your hug signifies a genuine love. One not of romance that clouds the eyes of her fanatic nor of lust that clouds the eyes of men. Your love was Just the love of a friend.

The love of the person behind her facade.

You see her gentle heart and hold it with equal gentle hands.

“You can always turn to me if you need it, can always use my shoulder to cry on. It doesn’t make you weak, it only makes you stronger”

Mihawk Dracule

His appearance at the booth is as cryptic and abrupt just as his appearance of his boat on the sea is.

It’s abrupt.

Expected.

And to everyone but you (and maybe Zoro) it’s an unpleasant surprise.

One that should be bound for bloodshed yet creates a certain tinge of happiness as he closes the curtains behind him and sits down on the small chair facing you.

Yoru being leant against the chair.

A small and subtle sign that he feels at ease with you.

…or at least didn’t see you as a threat. (It was hard to tell with him)

“It’s good to see you again Mihawk, how has the traveling been?” You say this while leaning against your palm that rested on the stand.

Golden ringed eyes stare at you, for a moment you can distinguish a crinkle of affection.

“They’ve been monotonous as usual. Overzealous fools who think they can challenge me”

“An, so like zoro?”

He chuckles at that, distantly outside the tent you hear a distinct “Oi!” Before the sounds of Sanji kicking him. Their bickering fades into the background as Nami presumably dragged them away.

Mihawk leans over, and suddenly you're enveloped in his arms. It’s perhaps a bit unexpected, though with Mihawk things were always a gamble. You half anticipated for him to leave without a hug, but seeing that he hadn’t made you all the more happier.

Mihawk's hug feels secure and protective, as if he were a shield to the rest of the world and its hardships.

Hands that have seen endless fighting and held the hilt of blood a rusted sword hold you.

His hold is not gentle but it is perhaps the softest Mihawk could ever be.

And that’s ok.

Because in his hold it feels as if you're safe.

That he would take on the world to ensure that even when you’d left his arms you’d never have to worry.

And while that’s a far off dream, knowing Mihawk he’d try.

And that’s perhaps the most comforting thought behind it all.

Mihawk would try for you if you’d ask.

If you’d ask, you could have stayed at his abode.

If you’d asked he would do all that he could to ensure you’d never have to die and reappear again.

But he’d only do that if you’d ask.

He didn’t make that decision for you.

Didn’t decide that his judgment was better than yours and impede on your ability to make decisions.

He might have disagreed with some of your decisions but he respected you to make them.

And even more so, he respected you even if he was wrong.

He would never admit to it, but in those few moments you’d proven him wrong a certain pride shone in eagle eyes.

A certain uplift of the corner of his mouth.

“The humandrills miss you…I have a room open if you’d ever require it” it’s said quietly, like a secret exchanged beneath candlelight. It’s a valuable moment, it reminds you of that thing that zoro had said.

“A wound on the back is a swordsman’s shame”

Vulnerability was not something easily handed out by swordsmen, especially not one like Mihawk. A weakness, a so-called wound on his back or in this case his heart. It’s not something to be taken lightly. But luckily you know this well.

“I’d like that”

His mouth twitches, sloping upwards ever so slightly.

To him the hug you give is a moment where he can momentarily be at ease and feel as if he had a goal to accomplish.

Throughout aimless travel he tries to find his match yet all that come to him are disappointments. Battle after battle of people not being able to even land a single blow on him. It’s a constant that leaves him bitter and resigned as he’d toll away in his castle alone.

But with you in arms that carry the burden of being the best he finds himself with a mission that seems ever so slightly more achievable.

He could protect you as best he could.

Though that is an equally daunting task considering your penchant for death, it feels more feasible so long as you remain in his hold.

Small arms that are wrapped around his neck mean no harm.

He has no use in being on edge, not when you’d barely had the will to ever pick up a blade. Even when your life depended on it.

For a short moment the bloodthirsty marine hunter feels at ease.

You do not see him smile but you can feel the warmth he exudes when his hand cards through your hair.

Marco

The cries of “cheater!” And ��we agreed that everyone else would get a head start!” Ring out from the very familiar voices of whitebeard’s division commanders outside the tent as an even more familiar voice yells out to them “early bird gets the worm” with an amused chuckle.

And it’s there that the small tent is lit up by flames of cyan blue and brilliant gold. Still in his partial zoan form his clawed feet press against the ground as tail feathers of gold trail behind him like a burning chain.

Flames flicker in a calm heat, letting small pops of sparks almost as if they were mini-fireworks.

A lazy smile is across his face as he sits leisurely across from you.

“Long time no see Marco, how’s the family?”

He chuckles, pointing his thumb to the now closed curtain door as the slightly muffled sounds of complaints just outside answer the question. “Licking their wounds but for the most part good.” There’s an audible “hey!” Once more behind the curtain which makes you chuckle in turn. But eventually the chuckles settle down into silence.

And for a moment besides the murmurs outside there’s a warm silence punctuated by the soft crackles of flame.

Warm blue and soft gold.

Flames that are simultaneously soft as feathers as they wrap around you. Cocooning you in their warm nest of a grasp, like a mother bird swaddling an egg. You could go on and on with the bird analogies, but none could ever describe the sense of comforting warmth that covers your heart in its inferno.

“We’ve all missed you”

The fire burns like a campfire on your heart. The soft oozy scent and taste of s’mores as the muffled laughs of friends and family. The sweetness of chocolate, slightly charred marshmallow and crumbly graham-cracker seem to appear like phantoms on your tongue.

“Pops checks the bounties for you”

A father’s warm hand places itself on your shoulder as the two of you sit by the fireplace. The fireplace sets the blaze on your heart to that of a warmer intensity. Frost presses against the nearby window and nearby boots, hats and mittens let snow melt into them. The chill of winter easing away at the warmth of home and the presence of a man who swore to love and protect you.

“Izou has been arranging for some old spare kimonos of his to be given to you”

A mothers warm hands cup your cheeks as a tender kiss is placed atop your forehead, red phantom lipstick staining your flesh as its kindness traveled to your burning heart. A light giggle echoes from rose lips, a giggle escaping your own as tears pinch at the edges of your eyes at her goodbye.

“Ace, Thatch, and I have been keeping track of your guys’s adventures”

The hearth of your heart feels the burn of the sun clench around it like a firm hug. Beneath a sun hat you pick at a freshly tended garden, soil pooling beneath your hands as you pat it down firmly. Roots tangle beneath the ground, red strawberries hanging low and ripe for the picking as they are placed in a wicker basket. brother places a glass on the ground beside you, cool lemonade fresh on your patched tongue and the bittersweet of it lingering as his blurred face is obscured by the shadow of his own hat.

Love burns you to the core. It’s heat scorching a heart that should be dead and reigniting its will to keep moving.

You melt into the cool flames of blue and gold.

Your tears don’t put it out but instead makes it wrap more securely around you.

[bi-bard]

If I Could Hold You for a Minute, I'd Go Through It Again - Charles Rowland Imagine [Dead Boy Detectives]

Title: If I Could Hold You for a Minute, I'd Go Through It Again

Pairing: Charles Rowland X Witch!Reader

Based On: Francesca

Word Count: 3,361 words

Warning(s): physical attack, mentions of family trauma/death/injury

Summary: Whoever claimed that risking your life was only for the living had never seen the true devotion of a ghost before.

Author's Note: Wow, Kyli liked another project that was inspired by Neil Gaiman's work... what a surprise. If you have any characters that you want to see, let me know.

Also, I'M HOME! I MADE IT BACK TO YOU GUYS!

**written in third person p.o.v for sake of storytelling**

UNREAL UNEARTH - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

------------------------

If there was one word that was always used in tandem with (Y/n)'s name, it was chaos.

Or messy.

Or clumsy.

Or wild.

Or any other word that could possibly mean the same thing.

Early on, (Y/n) could excuse it as inexperience. Maybe age would tame whatever beast seemed to be roaring in their brain and their chest. Maybe someone would explain the best way to leash an animal that was so much larger than you.

No one ever did.

Instead, (Y/n) ended up alone. Alone, terrified, and as out of control as ever. A cruel hand had been dealt to them when they were far too young. And now, the teenager was left coping with things that most adults could not handle.

Meeting Edwin and Charles had been the first good thing to happen to (Y/n) ever.

(Y/n)'s isolated life was interrupted quite abruptly by the ghosts. A case had brought the detectives to (Y/n)'s doorstep. They had been wearing disguises at the time, but those were quickly put away when they learned that (Y/n) was a witch.

A partnership of sorts formed between the three of them. With Edwin, it was more sternly a working relationship. He rarely found himself in (Y/n)'s home, especially when there was no case that required their assistance.

With Charles, it was very different. Charles would visit whenever he wanted to. He would usually be the first to ask for help, popping in through a mirror in the main room. He'd take the time to look around the small living space. And when there wasn't a case, he would pop in whenever. It was commonly just as (Y/n) was sitting down to eat or read or do anything.

Charles and (Y/n) developed an interesting friendship. A friendship that was resting precariously on held tongues. Anyone could see how close the two had gotten to crossing the line between friendship and whatever was on the other side. Anyone other than the pair. They were both trapped in a state of denial. Maybe that was for the best for a time.

(Y/n)'s chaos had been largely hidden away from the detectives. Some would call it careful. (Y/n) called it lucky. Incredibly lucky.

And then there was the case of Rory.

Rory was a young spirit. A young but troubled spirit. The boys had been contacted by a friend saying that Rory was becoming violent. The goal was to find what was tying the spirit to this plane and to send them to the other side.

It had all been going well. All things considered, anyway.

The only problem was time. There was this terrifying ticking clock between the trio knowing about the case and the risk of Rory attempting to hurt someone.

(Y/n) had only been there to help find what had been keeping Rory tied to this plane.

It had been going fine. Absolutely fine.

And then, (Y/n) lost control.

There was an intense moment where Edwin and Charles ended up being thrown in different directions. (Y/n) had tried to help. To get the spirit to stop for just long enough for the detectives to recover.

It didn't work.

Something else had overwhelmed (Y/n)'s efforts.

Whatever it had been had hit the spirit straight on. It had angered it... a lot. It ran at a terrified and confused (Y/n), causing the young witch to hit the ground, the scrape of the road below them causing a hiss to escape.

"(Y/n)!" Charles ran over first. "You alright?"

(Y/n) nodded as they pushed themselves up.

"What was that," Edwin asked as he walked over. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I... I don't know," (Y/n) said quietly. "It just... It just happened."

"It was reckless! You could have gotten yourself hurt and now we have to worry about the spirit being angry enough to hurt someone else!"

"Edwin-" Charles tried to get his friend to relax.

"What is wrong with you?" Edwin snapped before Charles could even try to stop him from asking.

"I... I don't know," (Y/n) murmured. "I don't know."

"Maybe it's best if you removed yourself from this case."

"Edwin!" Charles scolded.

"They're a risk!" Edwin insisted.

"He's right," (Y/n) turned to Charles. "I'll go home. Good luck."

Charles followed (Y/n) down the street. (Y/n)'s car sat alone on the street. Not much in terms of subtlety, but (Y/n) also hadn't been graced with the ability of travelling by mirror.

"(Y/n)," Charles said as he jogged to keep up with their quick steps. "Will you wait for a second?"

"Go back to the case, Charles," (Y/n) replied, not even looking at him.

"No," he stepped in front of them, attempting to block the path to the car. "Not until I know you're alright."

"I'm fine," (Y/n) insisted. "Edwin's right."

"No, he's not," he shook his head.

"Yes, he is. I am a risk. I always have been. I've hidden it well, but this was bound to happen at some point."

"What," he asked.

"A long time ago, when I was still with my family, I had issues like that happen all the time," (Y/n) explained. "I would... Something would overwhelm me, and I'd end up doing something dangerous or destructive. No one ever helped me with it. They expected me to sort it out on my own. And then... I hurt someone. Someone I cared about. I... I ended up being forced to leave. I still never truly learned to control anything. Tonight was proof of that!"

"We can help you-"

"That's not your job!" (Y/n) ran their hands over their face. "It's not worth the risk. I could get someone hurt, I could get myself, I could put you both in danger- none of it is worth it!"

"That's not your choice to make," Charles replied. "Any risk or danger is fine with me. I'm not leaving you alone, (Y/n)."

"You should."

(Y/n) moved around him and got in the car. Charles stepped back and watched the car drive off. He turned to see that Edwin had watched the interaction. Charles glared at him.

"It's for the best-"

"Let's just finish the case," Charles muttered, cutting Edwin off.

The case went by slowly and tensely. Charles was gruffer than Edwin had ever seen him. And Edwin had no right to question him about it. It was his comment that had caused this tension and anger. How was he meant to poke at it as if he had no idea what was going on inside the head of his best friend?

Charles didn't stick around the office once the case was done. Instead, he immediately went to the mirror, climbing through to try and see (Y/n) as soon as possible.

He ended up walking into (Y/n)'s room. He was somewhat expecting them to be there.

"(Y/n)!" Charles called out as he walked through the doorway. He stopped for a moment at the chaos that had taken over the living room.

It had been clear that some kind of fight had broken out. Between whom or what, Charles had no real idea. There were smaller objects thrown, furniture shifted, garbage scattered.

"(Y/n)," Charles called again as he walked around some of the mess. And then, he saw (Y/n) lying on the floor on the far side of the sofa. "(Y/n)!"

He ran over, rolling them on their back. They seemed to be breathing, but they were completely non-responsive.

"Shit!"

He shifted and carried (Y/n) to their room, leaving them on top of the bed's covers before he ran back through the mirror.

"Edwin!" Charles shouted even though Edwin was in the same room as him. "Something's wrong with (Y/n). I... I went to check on them and they were unconscious, and their living room was just destroyed. I don't know what happened."

"They're alive?"

"For now!"

"Come on," Edwin pushed Charles toward the mirror again.

Edwin let out a sigh as he walked over to (Y/n). He carefully lifted their eyelid to see if their eyes were responsive. However, all that was there was complete redness that had taken over. As if the eye had been filled with blood, but none of it was running out or swelling.

"Witchcraft," Edwin muttered. "I think I've read about this. Give me a moment to find the book in the office."

"(Y/n) was attacked by a witch?" Charles asked. Edwin was already through the mirror.

It was a suffocating matter of minutes before Edwin made it back to (Y/n)'s place.

"What is it?"

"If I am correct, then (Y/n) is currently trapped in a dream-like state," Edwin explained. "This dream-like state is keeping (Y/n) in a state of calmness while their brain slowly swells and presses against the skull. If we do not cure it fast enough, the swelling will kill them."

"How do we cure it?"

"We have to find a way to delicately wake (Y/n) from their dream-state. There is a cure that we can make, but it will take time."

"Is there another way? Something faster?"

"In theory," Edwin relented. "One of us could possess them and find a way to manually ease them out of the dream. The cure is our best option. Less risk."

"We don't have the time! We don't know how long (Y/n)'s been like this!"

"Charles, if either one of us chooses to possess them, then we set off alarms in the afterlife. We cannot take this risk."

Charles clenched his jaw.

"I will go get the cure started. Keep an eye on (Y/n)."

Charles did try to listen. He stood by and made sure that (Y/n) was breathing. He made sure that they were comfortable and that they were not suffering too immensely.

But then, he panicked.

He saw (Y/n)'s breaths becoming shallower and shallower. He heard nothing from Edwin. He was too worried to think of the consequences of his actions critically in any capacity.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was in a field.

He did a circle, trying to find some sign of something or someone. This was (Y/n)'s dream after all. They had to be there somewhere.

He saw something in the distance.

Approaching it, Charles could see a clearly outlined garden with a wooden fence around it. On one end was a gate, on the other end a cabin. A small cabin. The garden was beautiful. Full of flowers in full bloom with a swinging bench seat.

Charles almost chuckled at the vision. Something felt so fitting about something so peaceful being what (Y/n) pictured in a dream. Almost as far from their current life as they could get.

(Y/n) walked out of the cabin a moment later. Their clothes matched the garden. Soft, almost pastel colors. Very perfect, very organized.

He stepped forward, going to get their attention but stopped when he saw himself walking out of the cabin soon after. Well, some dream version of him. The other version of him was dressed exactly the same as he was, but it wasn't him. It couldn't have been him.

He watched as this alternate version of him pulled (Y/n) closer and kissed their head. The pair walked to the swinging bench seat, sitting together. (Y/n) relaxed into the fake Charles's side.

The view made the real Charles freeze where he was.

It felt wrong. Invasive.

He had kept his feelings private for as long as he had known (Y/n). He had been convinced that whatever connection the pair of them had was going to stay stuck in whatever form it was already in. Seeing this was a sign of something different. And he didn't know how to feel about that.

"(Y/n)!" he called from where he stood.

(Y/n) seemed to hear something. They paused and looked around but didn't seem to notice Charles. He could've sworn that they looked directly at him, but their eyes seemed to go right through him. As if he was never there.

(Y/n) leaned back into the seat, smiling as the fake Charles laid a kiss on their cheek as they did so.

The real Charles continued walking forward. He tried to think of a way to "delicately" get (Y/n) out of the dream.

"(Y/n)," he repeated, now standing just outside the gate.

Again, (Y/n) looked around but couldn't seem to spot him and was pulled back into the fake Charles's side.

He opened the gate and walked inside.

Neither (Y/n) nor the fake Charles seemed to acknowledge him in the slightest.

"(Y/n)," he said yet again.

(Y/n) again seemed surprised to hear anything, sitting up straight and going to look around until their eyes landed on Charles. They froze, eyes going wide at the sight of him.

"Hi," he grinned.

(Y/n) looked between him and the fake Charles, who was only looking at (Y/n).

"I'm sorry but I need you to come with me," Charles pressed, holding out his hand.

"What," they asked. "Sorry, but there are two of you. What's going on?"

"That's not me," he explained. "I... I don't know what he is, but he's not me."

(Y/n) stood up, stepping away from the bench. Once they were a few steps away from the real and fake Charles, they turned to look at them. The fake Charles didn't move, as if he were simply a mannequin that had to be moved around. He was staring at the space beside him as if (Y/n) was still there.

"You're in a dream," the real Charles explained. "This whole thing is fake."

(Y/n) ran their hands over their face.

"Do you remember how you got here at all," he asked.

"Yeah, I... I...," they trailed off, finding a blank space where some kind of memory definitely should have been.

"You were attacked," he continued. "Another witch found you and attacked you. You aren't standing outside some cabin in a field. You're lying in bed, unconscious."

There was a long pause before (Y/n) spoke up again, "I remember... I remember getting home. I remember someone being in my living room. It was an old friend..."

"You don't have to explain," Charles stopped them. He drew enough of a conclusion from those few sentences. It was some connection to whoever (Y/n) had hurt. Frankly, he didn't care about that. "We need to go."

He held his hand out to them. They finally took it.

He led them back to the gate to the garden. He didn't have any proof that this plan would work, but he didn't have anything else to go on. He just wanted to make sure (Y/n) had a chance at being okay.

Once (Y/n) stepped through the gate, it felt as if Charles was thrown out of (Y/n)'s mind. Like some explosion had happened.

Charles blinked a few times and spun around as he found himself back in (Y/n)'s room.

He heard (Y/n) grumbling. He grinned.

"Hey," he said quietly, going to sit next to them. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess," (Y/n) muttered. "My head hurts."

"I'll grab some water-"

"Wait, wait," (Y/n) reached for him as he stood up. He somehow managed to get halfway to the door by the time (Y/n) said anything. "I was... I was stuck in my head."

"And now, you're out."

"You... You popped up. You showed up there. You helped me."

"Yup."

"How?"

He paused for a moment.

"Charles..."

"I... possessed you."

(Y/n) sighed, standing up and placing their head in their hands. "Charles."

"It was to save you-"

"Oh my god!"

"I was trying to help-"

"You possessed me!"

"You need to relax-"

"No!" (Y/n) slapped Charles's hands away as he tried to guide them back to bed. "You possessed me!"

"I know that it's an invasion and it probably feels like you had some privacy violated-"

"My privacy isn't my concern," (Y/n) cut him off. "My concern is that you and Edwin have told me over and over again that possessing people sets off alarms in the afterlife. I don't care how close to death I am; you don't get to take that kind of risk for me."

"That's not just your choice," Charles replied. "I told you before, any risk that I take is my choice. I just saved your life!"

(Y/n) ran their hands over their face as they walked to the window. It was dark out. The moon perched itself perfectly to shine into (Y/n)'s room. There had been countless nights where (Y/n) spent ages just staring up at the sky, somehow feeling less alone when it was in sight.

(Y/n) could hear Charles walking to the window. They saw him out of the corner of their eye.

"I would do it again," he admitted. "No matter how much danger I put myself in. I'll do what I have to in order to save you."

"Why?"

"Because if you died, you wouldn't know how to get away from Death. I'd never see you again," Charles turned to (Y/n), who was still staring out the window. "I can run for eternity. I can escape anything and anyone. And I would do that as long as I knew you were at the end of whatever path I was running. I can't risk not seeing you again. You... You mean too much to me."

Finally, (Y/n) looked over at him.

"I... I love you, (Y/n)," he murmured.

(Y/n) loved him back. They knew that. They had for a long time now. But they couldn't bring themself to say it out loud. It was strange. Charles had seen the dream that (Y/n) had been stuck in. Surely, he knew how (Y/n) felt. So why could they still not admit it to him? Maybe it was they were merely scared of confessing it to themself.

"I'm sorry," Charles said after a few moments of silence. "I shouldn't have said that-"

Charles was cut off when (Y/n) stepped over and kissed him. It was as awkward as one would assume that it would be. It wasn't some perfect, fairytale-like kiss. It was an awkward kiss shared between a person who hadn't been kissed in decades and another who had never been kissed before. And it was short. It lasted a matter of moments before (Y/n) pulled back again. They stared at Charles with wide eyes, as if they had been just as surprised by their actions as he was.

He slowly grinned at them.

(Y/n) looked down for a moment, face becoming warm. "We should... We should get Edwin-"

"In a minute," he muttered.

"Charles-"

He leaned over and kissed them again. When he pulled back, there was a smug smile on his face. "You haven't said it back yet."

"What- oh," (Y/n) felt their face get even warmer as they realized what he meant. "I love you too."

It was quiet. As if it was still some kind of secret that no one other than Charles was allowed to know. Maybe (Y/n) meant for it to be that way.

It was then that Edwin climbed back through the mirror with some jars cradled in his arms.

"Alright, I found some things in the office that should be able to help- oh," Edwin muttered as he saw (Y/n) standing there. "You went through with the possession, I see... Even though I told you not to."

"I panicked," Charles explained.

"I already told him off for it," (Y/n) added.

"I think that (Y/n) should stay at the office for a while. Until we know there's not a threat."

Edwin looked between the pair. "Very well."

"I'll meet you guys there," (Y/n) promised.

(Y/n) felt a kiss get pressed to their head before Charles stepped away. They looked at Edwin, who gave them a shocked look in return.

"Well... I'll see you in a bit," (Y/n) said, trying to ignore the look that they had received.

The ghost boys went to the nearest mirror and climbed through. (Y/n) could hear the two of them muttering to each other. It was going to be a very long visit, (Y/n) could tell.

But (Y/n) couldn't find it in themself to mind much.

It was all worth it to be able to still hear them at all.

------------------------

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[novlr]

How do I strengthen my writing? I tend to fall back on bad habits because I can't find good habits to replace them.

Building sustainable writing habits that really help you improve can be really difficult. Especially if you don't know where to look. So, here are 10 tips for building good writing habits that can help strengthen your writing!

1. Clear out your creative faucets

Step away from your project and do something else! Write something different. Let yourself write badly. Or just plain old take a break. Your writing will suffer if you're constantly forcing yourself to work on something that isn't bringing you joy.

2. Read voraciously

In the immortal words of Stephen King: “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write.” 

Read widely in your own genre and outside of it. Take inspiration from other authors, and read critically to see what they do well and what they could do better.

3. Read some bad writing, too

Breaking down exactly why a piece of writing doesn't work for you can be super helpful for understanding what to avoid in your own work. 

4. Try on different writing styles

Try out different approaches to storytelling to find the voice that feels most like yours. You might find yourself attracted to descriptive, sensory prose, or more to austere and pointed prose. Your writing will be strongest when you're the most authentic self you can be.

5. Explore characterisation 

People are messy. Accurately and compellingly conveying this innate messiness is essential to creating a powerful story. Explore your characters and who they are, and if it's a character-driven story, don't be afraid to let them drive.

6. Make friends with your thesaurus 

A great way to make a piece of prose shine even brighter is to expand your vocabulary. There are a lot of words in the English language that mean similar things but have slightly different moods and tones. Finding the exact right word to convey what you’re trying to say will help your writing land more emphatically with your reader. 

7. Banish filtering words

Filtering is one of the most common mistakes new writers make. It involves describing a character’s sensations or feelings with filtering words like felt, saw, heard, knew, watched, or realised. This holds the reader at a distance and makes them feel like they’re hearing a story, rather than living it.

An example of filtering would be, “She watched the sun rise majestically over the mountains”. It would feel more immediate to simply say, “The sun rose majestically over the mountains”. The reader already knows your point-of-view character is watching; now, the reader can watch it with them. 

8. Glare disapprovingly at the passive voice

Passive voice isn’t necessarily wrong all the time, but nine times out of ten, it will slow down the pace of your story and encourage the reader to lose interest in your characters. Passive voice means having something done to a character — “John was punched in the face by Nick” — instead of a character actively doing something: “Nick punched John in the face”.

9. Familiarise yourself with story structure

The best stories follow an established plot structure, and follow it so smoothly that the reader doesn’t even realise there’s an ancient storytelling template behind it. These structures are designed to introduce just the right amount of tension and suspense and to give the reader the ideal payoff by the end. Rather than being formulaic, they help with pacing and plot development.

10. Get peer feedback

Finally, the best way to make your work as strong as it can be is to get some feedback from other writers. This can be from a professional editor, a beta reader, or a collaborative writing group. Getting a second pair of eyes can help you catch plot holes or inconsistencies before you send your story out into the world.

Want to know more? Read the full post at the link below!

[1800titz]

SIGIL | new early access series on patreon

OR The exiled fae masquerading as a human tattoo artist

The one in which there’s a spellbinding tattoo parlor, a semi-mystical man left jaded post his banishment to a realm full of coffee lovers and beings that wear boots over skinny jeans, a fresh tattoo artist in town with an odd magnetism, a situationship that lingers in the workplace (slightly unethical, mostly a new pastime), runes as a form of communication to bypass actual communication, and obvious, growing emotional stakes (that will be ignored)

HI <3 if you aren’t on patreon and haven’t seen anything about this— I’m running this new, longer, emotional slow burn series (anticipated to run a similar length to TDIAG) over on patreon as early access. After a while, chapters will slowly move over to wattpad (something to keep an eye out for), so if you don’t already follow me on wattpad, my user over there is now the same (1800titz). First chapter is already available on patreon, and there’s a short preview below the cut <3

There is something, just— 

So achingly tragic in the intricately orchestrated ecosystem of desperation and poorly sown mating rituals that takes place between the four walls of a bar. 

Darwin would be thrilled. 

It’s knuckle-gnawing. Almost morbidly fascinating. 

The clumsy slowdance of humanity’s circus in shapeshifting variety under nicotine yellow: a group of twenty-somethings in crop tops and cowboy boots taking selfies in the corner, so rehearsed it may as well be olympic choreography. The serial snapchat storyteller that’s had maybe three too many, slurring with his phone cupped in his hand like a lifeline— Harry can already hear it in the portending hangover lacing his hoarse bluster: last night was a fucking movie. The overconfident tinder king nursing a vodka cran at the edge of the bar, with the same sort of grease slicked along the notches of his smile that he’s got in his hair.

It’s natural selection, in painstaking progress, that fits so well with a side of watered down tequila and a soundless laugh track. 

There’s a kind of poeticism to the disarray of human nightlife. The sloppy architecture. The human world is so much more—

Soft, and messy, and raw. Toothless. Refreshingly simple.

    Trivial.

At home the stars were bigger. They burned so close that it felt like he could raze the skin on his palms by cupping them with his hands, and the moon smiled in topaz, and everything was all teeth. It was like the gravity of eternity buzzing under his feet. Holding him landlocked. 

(And here?)

Harry traces his fingertip across the glass. It leaves a naked, wet streak and sits untouched. It’s a prop— insignia of normalcy: I’m part of this. Because the key to the pastime is to wear apathy like an armor, and let the chaos around you orbit, rather than slipping into its gravity. 

(Here— he’s just another man at another bar.)

[darcytaylor]

Why I Didn’t Mind the Brothel Scenes in Bridgerton Season 3 - Hot Take

Before I dive into this, I want to make it clear that if you didn’t like the brothel scenes in Bridgerton, that’s completely valid. I’m not here to change your mind, just to share why they worked for me and how I see them fitting into Colin’s journey.

I’ve noticed a lot of conversation about the brothel scenes, with some people feeling like they were out of place or didn’t fit Colin’s arc. Personally, I didn’t mind them, and here’s why I think they actually make sense (for me) in the bigger picture of his growth.

Discomfort Is the Point

Right from the start, I think it’s important to recognize that the brothel scenes are supposed to feel disconnected, almost uncomfortable. The whole point is to show how uncomfortable Colin is with himself at that point in his journey. He’s forcing himself into a persona he thinks he should have, and the scenes reflect that struggle. It’s not about Colin being this confident playboy - it’s about him trying (and failing) to figure out who he is and what he wants, which is messy and awkward.

I think they are actually a crucial part of his self-discovery. By showing him trying too hard to fit into a role he doesn’t understand, it's making sure we feel how lost Colin is (because we already know his character isn't actually like this). His growth feels more earned because we get to witness his struggles firsthand.

A Different Take on the "Rake" Archetype

Now, Bridgerton has explored the “rake” archetype before, with characters like Simon, Anthony and Benedict, who exude charm and use that to hide their emotional vulnerabilities. But Colin’s journey flips that trope. He’s not confident in the way they are. He’s actually a man who’s very much unsure of himself, fumbling toward an identity he hasn’t figured out yet.

Colin doesn’t find confidence in seduction the way Simon and Anthony did - it's more of a mask, something that’s not truly him. The brothel scenes highlight that lack of confidence, showing how far he is from figuring out what he truly wants. It can be relatable for anyone who’s ever felt lost or unsure about themselves.

It’s More About Sexuality as Self-Discovery

For Colin, the brothel scenes aren’t just about physical pleasure - they’re more about experimenting with what it means to be desirable, to be masculine, and to meet societal expectations. This exploration is messy and imperfect - exactly how many people experience sexual self-discovery.

Some people have suggested that Colin’s decision to be with two women at once might hint at demisexuality, and I think that’s an interesting perspective. It almost seems like Colin is trying to remove emotional intimacy from the equation, reflecting how disconnected he feels from his own vulnerability. But I also think that part of it is Colin’s “go big or go home” mentality. If he can be with two women at once, maybe he feels like he’s proving something to himself - or maybe trying to convince himself that he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing.

Either way, his actions may not make him particularly likeable, but they make sense given where he’s at emotionally. He’s trying to figure out who he is, and that’s a messy process.

Bridgerton as Fantasy, Not History

It’s also really important to remember that Bridgerton isn’t a historical drama - it’s a fantasy with a romanticized take on the Regency era. It mixes period aesthetics with modern storytelling, and the brothel scenes should be viewed through that lens. The show doesn’t aim for historical accuracy - it’s about creating an idealized world where love, desire, and self-discovery take center stage.

So while some might have strong feelings about the way the brothel scenes are portrayed, it’s important to understand that they’re serving the narrative rather than trying to make a statement on real-world issues like sex work. In the context of Bridgerton, they’re more about Colin’s personal journey within this heightened, fantastical world.

The Brothel Scenes and Colin’s Need for Validation

Colin is deeply insecure. Even though he’s charming and outwardly confident, he’s searching for external validation - especially from those around him (Penelope, his brothers, and society at large). The brothel scenes are a way for him to seek that validation, to prove to himself that he’s the man he thinks he’s supposed to be (he said that himself).

But the problem is that this kind of validation doesn’t lead to fulfillment. It shows how far Colin is from truly understanding what makes someone desirable - not just in the eyes of society, but to himself. These moments reflect the gap between the performance of masculinity he’s trying to live up to and the deeper, emotional connection he’s actually longing for.

Visual Storytelling and Emotional Growth

One of the things Bridgerton does so well is visual storytelling, and I think the brothel scenes are a prime example of this. They’re meant to feel dissonant - just like Colin’s own inner turmoil. By showing these awkward, forced moments, we’re able to see the contrast between where Colin is emotionally and where he will eventually get to.

The disconnection he feels in those scenes makes the eventual emotional intimacy he shares with Penelope feel that much more rewarding. It’s all about showing how far Colin has come from the man he thought he should be to the man he’s finally becoming.

The Bigger Picture: Colin and Penelope

In the end, the brothel scenes aren’t about the act of being in the brothel - they’re about Colin learning from the experience. These moments set him on a path toward understanding that real connection comes from vulnerability and emotional intimacy. That's why I think we needed both brothel scenes - one where he thinks he is achieving what he should be, then the next is him realizing it's not what he wants.

His eventual relationship with Penelope, which is built on trust, honesty, and emotional connection, will contrast with the emptiness of his earlier encounters. These scenes aren’t just filler - they’re a part of Colin’s journey to self-acceptance, and ultimately, to love.

Final Thoughts

I totally get why the brothel scenes might not work for everyone. But for me, they added a necessary layer to Colin’s story. They showed his struggles, his insecurities, and his fumbling toward a better understanding of himself. In a show that often romanticizes love and desire, those messy moments felt real and grounded. They’re an important part of Colin’s growth, and without them, his eventual connection with Penelope wouldn’t feel as earned for me.

These scenes remind us that love, desire, and self-identity are complex and can be messy - and that’s okay.