#this whole thing is making me more emotional than i anticipated as i said. and that's why it takes a long time to watch

[kimmkitsuragi]

alright taking a break from gift bc i dont wanna watch it while im too sleepy to focus as i said. but god rondo makes me so emotional

[anantaru]

neuvillette eats pussy to distress

cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader

what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.

"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."

"am i correct?"

"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"

the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.

especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.

neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.

your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.

the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds. 

"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."

at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.

but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[sodaabaa]

wings a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader reader is mesmerized by rhysand's wings and he makes a tempting suggestion.

tw: slightly nsfw

playlist here!

I was sitting in my room when I heard the front door slam. I could feel his anger, a whole level above him, through closed doors. I put the sketchbook I was holding on my desk as I got up to see what all the commotion was about. As I made my way down the spiraling stairs, I saw Rhys storm into his room, shadows trailing behind him. I glanced at Cassian and Mor, raising my eyebrows in question. They simply shook their heads, don’t push him. 

I felt another pulse of anger through the bond, he must’ve been infuriated if he let these surges of emotion pass through the bond. I looked at his door, contemplating whether he’d kill me if I tried to talk to him. I had to try, at the very least.

As I walked across the hall, Mor grabbed my arm. “Hybern used faebane. He’s angry, give him some space to cool down.”

I shook my head, “he could be injured, let me just check up on him.” 

She let go of my arm but I could sense her and Cassian say a silent prayer for me to walk out of that room alive. I rolled my eyes at them, mustering up all the courage I had before walking towards his door.

I took a deep breath and cracked the door open to peer inside, hoping he couldn’t sense me behind the door. 

“Come in if you dare. I won’t kill you but I make no promise to spare those morons in the hall.” 

Humor. That’s unexpected. This shouldn’t be that hard, seeing how he was cheery enough to mock Cassian and Mor still. 

I walked in, my feet shuffling against the obsidian floor. He was standing before the window, gazing at the starless night sky, as if the stars too, could feel his anger and decided against shining tonight in solidarity for their High Lord. His wings were out. Wings. This was the first time I’d seen them. They were identical to Cassian and Azriel’s wings and dark, so dark that it seemed to eat up any light that dared to shine around them. What would it be like, to use those onyx wings as a backdrop for a starry night sky? 

“Are you hurt?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

He removed his attention from the window to answer my question. “Not badly. I’ll heal.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Silence. His attention turned back to the mountains in the distance. “He baited me. I should have been more careful. Should’ve known about the faebane.” 

I paused, unsure of how to respond. 

“You can’t know everything. It was a slip up, now you know how to handle confronting him next time.” 

“Next time I see him, it won't be to confront him.” He grumbled. A simple threat, frightening nonetheless.

Again, my eyes wandered to his wings. Imagining the things I could paint. The moon illuminating snow capped mountains, stars glittering like diamonds against the black of his wings. 

If you’d like to paint my wings, darling, all you have to do is ask. 

I was mid gasp when I coughed instead, earning a chuckle from Rhys. I had forgotten about my shields all night since I’d been painting in my room, no use for mental barriers when there was no one around.

He turned, facing me expectantly. 

“You’re not serious.” I said.

He merely raised his eyebrows. 

“You’re injured.” Excuses. I knew that was just an excuse. To paint him, I’d have to get too close to him. I wasn’t ready for that.

No need to be afraid, I won’t bite. 

I cursed him, “pig.” 

A breathy laugh. 

“Cassian and Mor were terrified of you just then. I’m pretty sure they prayed I’d come back in one piece.” I said.

He shifted, his eyes dropping to the floor. “They know better than to cross me while I’m angry.” 

“You don’t seem very angry, quite the opposite actually.”

He hesitated for a second. “You’re a soothing presence.”

I looked away, cheeks heating up.

“Paint my wings.” He said, breaking the silence.

I opened my mouth in protest but hesitated when our eyes met. His violet eyes were full of hope and anticipation. 

“Fine.” I huffed, a sly smile creeped onto his lips. Night Triumphant indeed. 

I made my way to the door to gather my paints but before I could even walk a step, Rhys waved his hand and my paints along with brushes appeared on his bed. 

I shot him a playful look which he returned.

“Alright, lay on your stomach then. If you get hurt any further, it’s your fault.” 

“I’d gladly let you hurt me darling.” He retorted.

I bit back a laugh, “who knew the High Lord of the Night was a masochist. I’d pegged you to be the sadist type.” 

A devilish grin and equally vicious eyes narrowed at me. “I’m whatever you want me to be, angel.” 

I fought the butterflies in my stomach, urged them to go away. 

He sprawled out on the silk sheets, his wings laid out before me. I readied my paints and leaned over him, standing on the edge of the bed to start the base layer. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but it would have to do. Though it seemed like Rhys had other plans.

“It’d be much easier if you took a seat, darling.” Despite not being able to see his face, I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I’m not sitting on you Rhys.” I said. 

“You wouldn’t want the throne to go cold would you darling?” 

I rolled my eyes, “I’m not gonna make this comfortable for you Rhys.”

His response was that breathy laugh, the one that made my skin burn and my stomach flutter. I made sure my shields were up before climbing onto his hips, my thighs on either side of him. 

“This seems pretty comfortable to me, what happened to the promise of pain?” He taunted.

I smacked the back of his head, “let me paint in peace.”

“You make me suffer, angel.” 

“Good.” I replied.

For the next hour, I lost myself in painting his magnificent wings. Time slipped away as I focused on getting every star, every cloud, every snowy mountain right. Rhys seemed to enjoy the quiet as well, his head resting on his arms as he watched me in the mirror. I tried not to shy away from his gaze. 

“I think I’m done.” 

“Finally, my back is aching.” 

I winced, I completely forgot he was hurt. I scrambled to get off him but before I could, he turned onto his back, positioning his hands on my waist, keeping me straddled on his hips. 

“Rhys! The painting!” My eyes widened, the paint was going to smudge. He was laying on his back now, watching me panic before saying, “Don’t worry, it’s dried. I made sure of it.”

A sigh of relief left my lips.

“Then let me off.”

“I don’t think I will.” 

I stilled. 

He was gazing over my face, taking in what was before him. A hand came up to wipe away a smudge of white paint on my collarbone. I shivered when his cold hand touched my warm skin. He lifted himself up with ease, his face inches away from mine. My cheeks were bright red, my eyes dropping to his chest and my hands fiddling with the threads of my sweater. His featherlight touch traveled from my collarbone, up to my neck and stopped at my chin, gently lifting my face to meet his. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, eyes narrowed. His lips were no longer twisted in that arrogant smirk, eyes no longer held that devilish gaze. His lips were parted in anticipation, violet eyes pining with desire. 

“Are you gonna do something or just stare.” Barely a whisper.

Within seconds his hands were gripping the back of my neck, bringing my lips to his in a hungry, desperate, burning kiss. We were wind and water, violent waves crashing against jagged rock. His hands roamed under my sweater, drinking every curve, every edge. My hands mirrored his, wrapping around his broad shoulders and then traveling down his solid chest. I couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough despite being flush against him. He withdrew from the kiss, taking a breath, looking into my eyes, searching for hesitation. I smiled at him, don’t stop. The devilish smirk was back. His lips trailed down my jaw, my neck, my collarbone, there wasn’t an inch of me he didn’t claim. His hands held my waist so hard I knew they’d be bruised in the morning. I didn’t care, I wanted every bruise, every mark he gave me. 

What shall I be for you tonight, angel? Sadist? 

He brought his hand to the back of my head, gripping a fistful of hair and pulling back. I whimpered as he used the opportunity to leave bite marks all over my exposed neck. 

His grip softened, his lips now trailed further down and lightly kissed the hollow of my neck. 

Or shall I worship your body? 

He flipped us over, pinning my hands on either side of head. I was trapped between his strong, tattooed arms. 

I don’t care what you do to me, just never stop touching me. 

He smiled brighter than the north star. His lips brushed over my ear, “your wish is my command,” he breathed.

[blackbird-brewster]

Highlights from Catherine Tate's Q&A Panel at Armageddon Expo 2024 (NZ) :

[I took notes best I could during the panel but some may be paraphrased]

Q: What's your favourite Doctor Who alien?

CT: The wonderful Ood!

Q: Who's your favourite Doctor? (Crowd gasps in anticipation)

CT: Well, I get asked this a lot, and obviously it's David (Tennant). I don't know what number he is, he keeps coming back. But definitely, David. Although, someone recently pointed out that I was technically the first ever female Doctor. So you know what? Me, I'm my favourite Doctor.

Q: What's your favourite episode you were in of Doctor Who?

CT:The Runaway Bride, because that's where it all began.

Q: What's a favourite memory of working with David Tennant on Doctor Who?

CT: The scene in 'Partners in Crime', the one with the Adipose, there's the scene where Donna and the Doctor see each other from across a room. But they're both behind glass and they have the whole mime scene with the windows. Well, I remember it was about 3am when we were filming that - - Russel really likes to film at night if the story is taking place at night - so it was 3am, and I said to the director 'Uh, right here it just says Donna Mimes' and he said 'Yeah do whatever'.

So that whole scene was ad-lib during shooting and David and I were so in sync with it, we did that first take and the director said cut and print!

Q: How emotional were you filming your final scene in Journey's End?

CT: So, we didn't always film in order. And I'm not really a sentimental person, but I will say I thought Donna's ending was absolutely perfect. When she meets the Doctor she was always yelling at the world, and she was so different than what she was by the end, she had so much growth with the Doctor and she changed so much in her time with him, but then, she forgets the him and all those memories. And that final scene, what really got me was how he says 'Donna, I'm off' and she's just, I think she's on the phone, and she just waves dismissively. She doesn't know him anymore. Russell, the way he ties things together, he's brilliant, that man.

Q: What was it like working with Bernard (Cribbins)?

CT: Oh, Bernard. God, I love him. He was so funny and talented. He always had stories and voices and sound effects. He loved making people laugh. But we had a gag where every single time I called him I'd say (Donna Voice) 'GRANDAD!'

He'd say, "Who is this?"

"It's Catherine."

"Catherine who?"

"Catherine Tate"

"Never heard of her."

We did this every time I called him and I loved it.

Q: Is there anything annoying about working with David Tennant?

CT: No, absolutely not. He's perfect. He's the best person to work with. I will say though, I was annoying him a lot. When we did the 60th Anniversary specials, our trailers looked exactly the same and I never knew where my trailer was. I'd walk into his all the time!

Sometimes I'd walk in and see his shoes in the trailer and instead of thinking 'Oops, wrong trailer', my brain went 'What's he gone and left his shoes in my trailer for?'

It got so bad, sometimes I'd walk up the stairs and from inside I'd hear 'NO.'

Q: Was it weird coming back to play Donna after all these years? Especially when it was along side David Tennant?

CT: It was a bit weird, more in the 'Oh I hope i still know how to do this' way than anything. But I did think it would be hilarious if David and I arrived on set and every take we just did completely wrong voices. Just thought it'd be hilarious for him to go (in an airy upper-crust British accent) 'Ohhhh, hellloooo. I'm the Doctor'

Q: If you could take any prop from set, what would you take?

CT: Ohhhh, I'd have very large pockets and see what I could fit. But mostly I think it'd be a sonic screwdriver. It's gotta be a sonic screwdriver, doesn't it? It's small and mobile... Easy to steal. Plus, it'd fetch a great price on Ebay!

Q: Best show you've ever worked on?

CT: The Office, they paid me tons of money.

Q: My mum loves David Tennant, is there something you can say to dissuade her?

CT: Hm, something to convince her he's not.... Oh, he doesn't believe in astrology! I'll say 'It's Mercury Retrograde' and he'll say 'NO, NO, NO I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT'.

Other Highlights:

As soon as she came out, she saw the stage had no steps to the audience, so she stayed on mic and went the long way round to go into the audience and interview people, trying to find who had traveled the furthest to be here. She was sorely disappointed everyone was just from Aotearoa 🤣

Donna Lines She Performed:

"Oi Spaceman! You're not mating with me sunshine!" (Crowd went wild for that)

"Binary. Binary. Binary." (🥺)

She did some of her characters: Lauren Cooper mostly, but also wished someone Happy birthday as Nan

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 2

Summary: Seeing as part one went well, I present to you the continuation but this time, from Astarion's point of view. Thank you all so much for your support. It makes me so happy to know the fandom is enjoying my work.

He honestly doesn't know what Tav wants from him or why she keeps stirring weird emotions in him and she only further confuses when she presents him with a thoughtful gift.

There will be a part 3. Tav is not mentioned by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.2k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Astarion never considered himself particularly lucky but he knew how to adapt to situations beyond his control – keep himself alive and everything. He’d proven himself to be talented enough to seduce well, just about anyone.

Just about anybody it would seem but not a single member of the strangest group imaginable, also known as the one he’d chosen to travel with.

Because luck would mean the most frustrating woman in the world would be the one he aimed to… shall he say, convince about the benefits of staying close to his side.

Oh, she wasn’t exactly immune to his charms. He could see the effects when he moved close to her and her lips curled into a natural smile, attention flickering to him in anticipation of what he wanted to say. She brushed against his shoulder whenever she wanted to pass and laughed at his snide remarks.

All the things that he would usually consider a success; a sign he’d managed to win her heart in some form.

But then, she also went and did the absolute opposite.

Instead of pulling him aside in the camp when he offered and allowing him to drag his lips along her throat, she dragged him into the middle of the group to socialize. She leaned into his touches and then ran off to help save another puppy or whatever else caught her attention.

It annoyed Astarion because he knew she liked him but he didn’t know what she wanted from him. They’d spent one evening together and she appeared keen on more but then rather spent her nights teaching an owlbear how to sit.

Admittedly, a very cute pastime but still.

She ran a bath for him, washed his hair, and then promptly left him alone in the water instead of joining him for some fun. If he understood, he could easily provide but she made the first part infuriatingly difficult.

“Alright,” he said after she’d caught him staring into a blank mirror and spurned agitation in him by reminding him that he didn’t, in fact, know what colour his eyes once were. “Tell me what you see when you look at me. Surely you can describe my appearance well enough.”

She giggled and put a hand to her chin, as though considering. “I think we’d be sitting here the whole night if I did that. You’re so pretty, it’s unfair.”

Pride curled hot in his chest and his irritation simmered. Amazing how easily she managed to do such a thing. “Oh? Then name your favourite.”

She reached out to brush a strand of hair away from his face, freezing only when the action had already startled both of them. Astarion wondered why she stopped for only a second before he realised he’d shifted away from the touch, a movement done on instinct rather than thought.

Shit. That wasn’t going to help him.

She dropped her hand as though nothing happened. “I refuse to believe becoming a vampire changed you that much. There’s no way you weren’t this gorgeous before.”

She knew how to appeal to his vanity and the strangest thing about it was, he didn’t feel as though she did it on purpose. Her ceaseless flattery came naturally to her.

“It’s been over two hundred years since I last saw it and memories fade.”

A lie but not an important one. He remembered everything since the day he woke up in his coffin, panicked and struggling to breath though he didn’t need to. The pain of transforming, the agony of starvation, and unending confusion. Nothing slipped away and he hated it. Despised how the memories shoved their way forward.

But for now, he refused to think of them and instead waited to see what she thought of. She pressed her lips together tightly before she spoke.

“The first thing I noticed when I met you were your eyes. They’re red, obviously, but they’re also strong and piercing. You also get these crinkles beside them when you laugh.”

Again with the strangest compliments. Still, he took them in his stride this time. “That’s better. What else?”

“The way you smile. It’s dangerous and sharp but occasionally, genuine. It’s enough to charm anybody, I would say.”

He offered her a smile in response, pleased with the praise. He preened beneath her pretty words and happily took the knowledge close to heart. Meaningless flattery had always been one of his favourite things.

“Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we’ll call it a day.”

She laughed and tilted her head to the side. “You’re beautiful. I thought that much was obvious.”

But something in the way she said it ruined everything. She took the most boring compliment of the lot and meant it deeper than all the others. The teasing tone easily exposed the truth and the pride disappeared, replaced by something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now was there any real reason for you to make your way over here?”

She didn’t really want anything but he’d almost expected it. Everything she found on their journey eventually got shared with him and today, she spoke about some woman’s letter she’d found. Nothing important.

Astarion thought that would be the end of it.

He continued to flatter her to make sure she always preferred him above their other companions and was rewarded when she continued to seek him out first. An entirely selfish action truly but she offered him a path forward.

The others had their strengths but something about her united them the best. If a chance existed where he could retain this ability to stand in the sun, he had no doubt she would be his best way there.

Even if she did insist on carrying about so much nonsense she found whenever they went out and helped every person with the smallest problems.

But then she found an empty book lying on the floor somewhere and she immediately began staring at him whenever it was open, scribbling away inside but always staring at him over the edges. Every time he offered her a quizzical glance, she smiled and continued with whatever she was doing.

She showed it to Wyll and Gale a few times but never brought it over for him to see.

Of course, if Astarion really wanted to, he could find what waited in those pages easily.

The parasite provided an easy path forward but she would know he wanted something when he dug around in her head. He didn’t sleep most nights but she rested deeply; deeply enough to allow a vampire to drink from her throat without even waking her like the true fool she was.

She knew, even laughed when he complimented her the next morning, but never once complained, just told him he was welcome back whenever.

Originally, he thought she may be too trusting but he learned quickly how wrong that assumption was. She didn’t believe most of the people who tried to sway her to their side; straightened her back and glared when they tried to trick her and often even stood between them and her companions.

Which meant, somehow, he’d earned her trust.

Ridiculously stupid as it was for her to trust him, he didn’t want to lose the privilege and so he left her book alone until the next time she spent too long staring over its top.

“I do hope you’re writing something fun in those pages,” he said. “If you let me read them, I’m sure we can make them happen.”

She laughed at the suggestion. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just trying to draw you.”

He lowered his goblet a little in confusion, unsure how to respond to such a thing. “Draw me?”

“Well, you complained so much about not being able to see yourself in the mirror so I thought this would be the next best option. Come here and I’ll show you.”

She patted the spot on the ground beside her but Astarion didn’t move. Of all the things he’d expected from her, he hadn’t anticipated a recall of the strange conversation from before. Certainly not for her to have spent several days on such a thing.

“Come on,” she welcomed him. “I’m not horrible at art, I promise.”

He shook off the surprise and forced a laugh. “My apologies, I got distracted watching those adorable cheeks of yours flush. It’s absolutely delicious to see the way the sun burns your skin.”

“Oh, that wasn’t the sun,” she said. “If you’re talking about this.” She twisted a little so he could see a deeper red mark on her chest and where it curled over her shoulder. “You know the chest I kept fiddling with beneath the grove? Turns out it was trapped but don’t worry, Shadowheart promised it would fade with time.”

He honestly hadn’t been speaking of anything but he found himself annoyed at her for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. “Well, I suppose that’s what you must deal with when you’re obsessed with looting everything we come across.”

“It’s profitable,” she teased. “Now do you want to see what I’m drawing or not?”

He took his time to saunter over and sink into a relaxed seat beside her. The sun had begun to set and its final rays danced over her skin as she shifted closer, leg brushing against his own as she turned the pages to him.

“It’s not perfect,” she warned. “You’re not an easy person to capture on the page but it’s something.”

True to her words, the book had been filled with sketches from the front to the back. Some crude and others detailed but every single one was of him. Close ups, full bodies, and even a few in action with daggers drawn. Had she truly drawn them from memory alone?

“I keep getting frustrated when they don’t come out right,” she said. She leaned back so she was lying against the grass, attention on the sky. “I’ve asked the others but they can’t tell what I’m doing wrong either. They’re just not right.”

He turned the pages slowly, not sure how he should respond to a gift like this.

Seeing his face showed truth to her words. He hadn’t changed awfully much in these years. The great care put into this though… she’d spent ages detailing his hair on others and even put dapples of sunlight over others from when they’d been travelling through the forest.

They didn’t have many hobbies to pass the time while travelling (not unless you counted Lae’zel who appeared to be collecting more and more heads as they continued on) but this must have taken so much of her waking hours.

The emotion that crept up his throat was unwelcome and difficult to recognise. It made his unbeating heart twist uncomfortably and he immediately snapped the book shut.

She nudged him to get his attention. “Well? What do you think? We can hire a professional when we reach a bigger city but it’s a temporary solution.”

He forced the smile and it felt wrong. “I doubt even a professional will capture me right. It’s as you said, difficult to capture perfection.”

She laughed. “I’ll try again tomorrow but with our plans, I think you’re going to be in a foul mood and I don’t want to draw you when you’re sulking.”

“Me? Sulk? I couldn’t possibly imagine why when you’re making me trudge through a swamp.”

She grinned and for a second, the briefest moment, he felt something tug on his chest when he looked at her. Fondness. His panic flared immediately and he turned his gaze away, uncomfortable suddenly with the attention she lavished upon him.

Curse her and her ridiculous book. Yet another strange aspect of her life – one that tempted him to flee in the middle of the night and never return to this group and their insistence on helping people.

But he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t give up the safety provided by them yet.

“I’ll be happy to take this off your hands darling,” he said to her, holding up the book. “Keep it safe and make sure it doesn’t disappear in the night.”

“You will not. It’s mine until I get at least one drawing of you right and then you can have it.”

He leaned over her, placing one hand on the ground beside her hip. “Wouldn’t you rather the real thing? We can make some references for more enticing artwork in the future.”

She stared at him, briefly frozen as he drifted a faint touch over her thigh. The flare of lust in her eyes made him comfortable again. This was something he understood. An emotion he recognised. She still wanted him; she must if she spent all this time trying to draw him.

She moved closer and her breath brushed over his cheeks, her eyes locked on his.

He waited, about to close the gap, when she suddenly kissed him on the nose, grabbed the book from his hand, and rolled away with a laugh.

Astarion was left blinking as she tucked the book into her pouch.

“I’ll let you have it when I’m done but that does sound like fun. Unfortunately, this evening though, I managed to talk Wyll into giving me some dance lessons so I’m booked. You should join if you feel up to it.”

He huffed and tried not to let the strange jealousy return as she ducked away towards the others.

Taglist: @rosenightwings , @tragicdruid , @bloopthebat , @venus-wrts

[astrid-sama]

Carmilla Carmine x fem reader

Carmilla is acting strangely and reader believes she is cheating on her.

"Those three are hiding something from me"

This was the thought you had in your head for a while; it all started about a month ago, the first to behave strangely was your girlfriend Carmilla, she went from avoiding you even for a whole day to showering you with attention, other times it seemed like she wanted to tell you something important and in the end she pulled back; After a while Clara and Odette also began to behave strangely.

At first you didn't worry too much about the strange behavior that Carmilla and her daughters had adopted, believing that perhaps they were just stressed due to the anticipated extermination, but, as time passed, the more your mind speculated about the reasons for their behavior.

-She's cheating on me, I'm sure of it! How can she do something like that to me I thought she loved me-

You are currently at your best friend's house crying while eating a big tub of ice cream.

-Don't say that, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding-

-No, she's definitely cheating on me with that overlord Zestial-

-Come here-

Stolas spread his arms and you immediately went to snuggle into your friend's arms, finding it very comforting.

-Carmilla loves you and everyone in hell knows this, what makes you doubt it?-

-Well he's been behaving strangely for a while, at first I thought it was due to the stress caused by the early extermination but as time went by I realized that that couldn't be the reason, so I started to think and ...-

-And this crazy idea of ​​betrayal came to your mind-

-Maybe I exaggerated a little-

-Decidedly; I think you should talk about it with Carmilla, I'm sure that everything will be resolved that way-

-Thank you Stolas, you always know what to say. Now let's stop talking about me, tell me how the date with Blitzo went-

The next day you decided that you would talk to Carmilla to find out the reason for her behavior. You found your girlfriend in her study, absorbed in work; you knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter.

-Enter. Mi amor, do you need something? -

-Yes, I need to talk to you-

-Tell me everything mi amor-

-I've noticed that you've been acting strange lately and I want to know why-

-It's nothing don't worry-

-No, you can't tell me that nothing is happening! If you're cheating on me, at least have the courage to tell me!-

Tears were starting to form in your eyes, you're not usually this emotional but a month of doubts and having said your biggest fear out loud had shaken you a lot.

The look on Carmilla's face was shocked to say the least, she really couldn't understand how something like that could come to your mind, it's true that she's been a bit strange lately but it certainly wasn't because I was cheating on you.

-Mi amor please let me explain-

-Speak, I'm listening-

You said crossing your arms over your chest and trying to keep a cold look.

-What is this important thing you have to tell me?-

Carmilla went to her desk, took a small black box from one of the drawers and after taking a deep breath she knelt in front of you.

-Mi amor, the first time I saw you you captured my thoughts, the first time you spoke to me you captured my heart and being with you forever would make me the happiest woman in the world because where you are is the my paradise; mi amor, will you marry me?-

For a second you were speechless, when you finally managed to process what Carmilla had said you couldn't stop smiling.

-Of course I want to marry you! I want it more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire existence!-

Carmilla stood up and after putting the ring on your finger she gave you a passionate kiss that made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

-Come, let's go and tell our daughters-

Carmilla took your hand and together you went to tell the wonderful news to Clara and Odette.

I hope you like this fanfiction.

[parkminijiminie]

AYS - Jeju trip /my recap/

Now that all of the Jeju episodes have aired, I've come back to quickly share my opinion. Disclaimer: This is just my opinion and speculation, you are more than free to disagree with me.

Overall, I managed to enjoy the episodes despite my initial hesitation. I was 50-50 about the first episode and I liked the other two. It wasn't a full love because while watching, I couldn't relax completely knowing how certain things would be twisted later on, but overall I enjoyed Jeju much more than I anticipated.

Let's start with the obvious difference between Jeju and NY, namely "the guest". TH's presence didn't add anything of value for me, apart from some cute Vmin moments and very few but still cute Vminkook ones. His being there didn't show me any new insight into their relationships, and there was no major change in either Vmin or Taekook. Even though Tae and JK spent a lot of time together in the first half of 2023, I didn't see any change in their dynamics or any new emotional depth to it. As many people have already said, JK and Tae together are two kids bouncing off each other's energies. They really bring out the immaturity in each other, and even if I tried, I could not get any romantic vibes from their interactions. Jk made it abundantly clear that TH being there was something he didn't choose and even seemed mildly annoyed by it the first day.

When it comes to JM and JK, this trip also didn't show anything new for me, but rather things I've always associated them with - their own private jokes, their being in sync with each other at all times, just existing in their own little world. They really do click. I loved their scenes at the pool, both days, I loved that JK is JM's personal chef, I loved that JM always pays attention to what JK is doing, even when driving, I loved their little joint routine at all times of the day. This really was JM and JK's trip through and through, and even a third party being there didn't really change anything. The only time we didn't have the signature JK and JM interactions was when JM was feeling unwell, after that they were back to their usual antics.

Jeju to me showed them being as close as ever. None of the tension and awkwardness from NY was present, which means that whatever issues they previously had, it was all resolved between the two trips.

As for them individually, I would say I am more and more and more amazed with Jimin with every new footage of this man I see. Firstly, he is just so naturally uniquely gorgeous. I kept staring at his bare face and wondering how one person could be so pretty even when sleeping, driving, and feeling sick. It's just like magic to me. More than that, he is just a class act through and through. He is polite, fun, considerate, energetic, just the whole package.

When it comes to JK, I would say he is a special person and probably a lot to handle in real life. He can be really sweet and his love language is definitely acts of service, but he also has an immature side to him. Maybe that comes from being the youngest and I think it was especially amplified because he was with the youngest members who always let him off easily. I think he is very kind-hearted, definitely not mean-spirited like some people make him out to be, but he is also a little bit impulsive at times. Personally, for me, he would probably be a little too much to handle in real life, but I can see that JM for sure knows how to handle him really well. As for JK's feelings towards Jimin, I think this boy lives and breathes for Jimin's attention. When JM is near, he is downright obsessed with having his eyes on him. He truly is like a big energetic, sometimes unruly puppy, wanting to be played with, praised, and loved upon. I can't really blame him, though. I, too, would turn into a clown or a personal chef, if it meant having Park Jimin's love and attention directed at me. In my opinion, nobody could truly deserve Jimin, but it is clear that Jimin truly adores Jungkook.

Jeju definitely showed that Jm and Jk have a very special type of relationship. The vibes between them were as weird as ever and it left me with more questions about the nature of their relationship than answers, but then again, this is also nothing new. 2023 Jikook remains confusing to me, but I am okay with that.

In conclusion, I liked the Jeju trip and I am not afraid to admit I love the solo parts between Jm and Jk the most. After all, this is what I paid for and wanted to see from the beginning and I am glad there were still plenty of JM and JK solo interactions. While these three episodes were better than what I expected them to be, I am the most excited about the upcoming Japan ones. I must admit I dreaded the Jeju episodes a little bit, which is why I actually didn't watch the first two right away, but I am fully, and 100% excited about Japan.

[peavhyshy]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - SHOPPING SPREE

ᯓᡣ𐭩 pairing ─ ୨୧ ─ Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron ⋆ Pogue!Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which Rafe goes over-the-top as usual to apologize for cheating which includes a grand gesture of buying out an entire boutique is creatively meant to.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ strong language, fluff, semi smut (but not really), power dynamics, mental/emotional manipulation and ulterior motives, reference to cheating, sexually suggestive situations, non-consensual elements (pressure/coercion into sexual acts), dubious consent, unhealthy relationship, discomfort/anxiety, misogyny/objectification.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 5,130

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ It's been a while since I posted on here and whatever so here I am, but who's to say I won't disappear for another few months.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe sauntered into the high-end boutique, the little bell above the door announcing his arrival. The sales associates perked up, eyeing his Ralph Lauren polo and Sperry boat shoes. Ah, a Kook with money to burn. 

"Hello sir, can I help you find anything today?" the manager asked, her voice dripping with fake pleasantness.

"Yeah, I need to buy out like, your whole store," Rafe said nonchalantly, checking out a display of cashmere sweaters. 

The associates' eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Buy out the whole store, sir?"

"Yep. I screwed up badly with my girl. She's a Pogue, you know? Doesn't really do the whole fancy clothes thing. But she found out I cheated on her with some Touron last week, and now she's pissed." Rafe picked up a floral sundress, scrutinizing it. "So I figured, what better way to say sorry than decking her out in some new designer threads?"

The manager nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. Let me start ringing up some items for you."  

"Nah, like I said, I want to buy out the whole damn store. Just name your price." Rafe pulled out his credit card, waving it around.  

The manager's eyes lit up at the thought of the huge commission she was about to make. "Of course, sir, let me calculate our current retail inventory value and I'll give you a total."

"Make it quick. I’ve got a picnic on the beach planned to beg for her forgiveness," Rafe said, leaning on the cash wrap counter impatiently. 

The manager returned shortly with the grand total. Rafe didn't even blink as he handed over his credit card. Anything to get his Pogue princess back.

Rafe leaned against the wall near the cash register, watching with disinterest as the store employees scurried around grabbing items off racks and shelves.

"Come on, pick up the pace," he called out impatiently. "I wanna get out of here before the sun goes down."

The manager gave him an appeasing smile as she stuffed an armful of sundresses into a large box. "We're going as fast as we can, sir. I really appreciate your business - this is the biggest sale we've ever had!"

Rafe just shrugged, stifling a yawn. The workers were cramming the boxes full of tissue paper and accessories, trying to maximize what they could fit. Shoes, handbags, skirts, tops - everything was being cleared off the floors and walls. 

One associate struggled to fold a pile of cashmere sweaters to fit in an overflowing box while another carefully wrapped up a display of fine china jewelry. The store was slowly emptying out as the minutes ticked by.

"Ugh, this is taking forever," Rafe groaned, pulling out his phone to scroll aimlessly. "I should've just gone to Party City and bought her a bunch of balloons or something." 

The manager's smile strained a bit as she kept up her enthusiastic energy. "Almost done, sir! Just a few more minutes and you'll have our entire inventory to present to your lovely girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe muttered, back to being bored. Buying out the whole store was proving to be more tedious than he had anticipated. But hey, you were worth it. Probably.

”I need all of this shipped to her beach house.”

The manager nodded as she taped up another overstuffed box. "Of course, sir. I can arrange delivery to any address you'd like."

She gestured to one of the other employees. "Sara, can you grab some shipping labels? We'll need to send all of these boxes to this gentleman's girlfriend's house once we're finished packing everything up."  

Sara hurried to grab a stack of shipping labels and a pen. "What's the address, sir?" she asked Rafe.

"Oh, uh..." Rafe scratched his head. "Somewhere in The Cut, not really sure of the exact address. It's a small blue house near the bay though, it has a tire swing out front. Think the name on the mailbox is L/N or something like that."

Sara looked confused. "Do you have the street name or number? There are a lot of small blue houses in The Cut."

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't know that shit. Her dad's name is Hank though, if that helps. Everyone knows Hank the Tank down there."

The manager and Sara exchanged a look, neither seeming confident about locating the right address. 

"Tell you what," Rafe continued, pulling out a thick wad of cash from his back pocket. "Here's 500 bucks. That should cover you guys figuring out where the hell to deliver all this stuff to Y/N in The Cut. I'm sure one of the Pogues down there can point you in the right direction."

He tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door without another word, leaving the overwhelmed store employees with boxes piled high and vague delivery information.

You squinted against the setting sun as three large delivery trucks rumbled down the sandy driveway toward your family's weathered beach house. You set down your cards on the rickety picnic table, where you had been playing an intense game of Crazy Eights with John B, JJ, Sarah, and Kiara.

"What the hell is this?" you muttered. The trucks parked haphazardly amidst the uncut grass and strewn beach debris surrounding the house. Drivers hopped out and opened up the backs, revealing piles and piles of boxes crammed to the brim.

"Whoa, did you order the entire Amazon warehouse or something?" JJ joked, sauntering over to inspect the deliveries. 

Before you  could respond, the porch boards creaked loudly under the weight of multiple pairs of high-heeled shoes. The group turned to see half a dozen boutique store employees teetering across the uneven ground, laden with clothing on hangers and large shopping bags.

"Oh no..." you groaned, realization dawning on you. 

"Delivery for Ms. Y/N L/N!" one of the women trilled, scanning the rural beachfront for the recipient. 

"That's you, Y/N," John B said, giving you a puzzled look.

Just then, a delivery man approached with an oversized bouquet of roses and a card. "Are you Ms. Y/N? These are for you along with all of these boxes."

"I'm going to kill him," you seethed, grabbing the card. Sure enough, it was from Rafe, attempting to apologize for cheating in his usual over-the-top Kook fashion.   

The others laughed, taking in the three trucks overflowing with designer clothes and accessories that had arrived on your doorstep.  The group whooped and raced toward the trucks, laughing at Rafe's attempt to buy back your forgiveness. You had to admit - it was a pretty damn good start.

The sun had just set over the expansive Cameron estate as you marched up the long driveway and let yourself in the front door. You breezed past the elaborate foyer and down the hall towards the state-of-the-art home gym, where you knew you would find Rafe. 

Sure enough, there he was - shirtless and pumping iron, the clanking of weights echoing through the large room. You crossed your arms, watching as Rafe finished his set of bicep curls before acknowledging your presence. 

"Oh hey babe," he said casually, setting down the dumbbells. "I see you got my gifts."

"You mean the eighteen-wheeler trucks filled with designer clothes that choked the road to my house all afternoon?" you replied sharply.  

Rafe grinned. "So I take it, you liked them?"

You rolled your eyes. "Did you seriously buy out the entire Verona Boutique?"

"Maybe," Rafe shrugged, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

"Why would you do that?" you asked in exasperation. 

"Come on, I was just trying to apologize for what I did," Rafe said. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You sighed heavily. "You can't buy me off with fancy clothes, Rafe. That's not how this works."  

Rafe stood up and walked over to you. "But did it at least make you smile a little?" he asked with a coy grin. 

Despite yourself, You felt the corners of your mouth turn upward. You shook your head, trying to fight the smile. 

"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. But Rafe took your reaction as a promising sign. 

"So...am I forgiven?" he asked. 

You shrugged, struggling to stay stern. "You're not off the hook yet. But...it's a start."

Rafe smiled victoriously and pulled you into an embrace. You hated to admit it, but his over-the-top gesture did melt away some of your anger. Only a Kook would think that buying out an entire boutique could fix cheating - but you had to give him points for creativity.

Rafe's face lit up with a delighted grin as he saw the smile fighting its way onto your lips. Score! He knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he pulled out all the stops with his over-the-top apology gifts. Sure, buying you an entire wardrobe wasn't exactly practical, but he wanted to go big to show you how much he cared. Because even though he screwed up by cheating, your were still his girl and he needed you to know you were #1. No Touron hookup could ever mean anything compared to you.

Pulling you tighter into his embrace, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you nuzzled into his bare chest. He could tell the wheels were still turning in your mind, trying to decide if you were ready to fully forgive  him yet. But he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve if needed. Diamonds, a new car, a trip to Paris - anything you wanted, it was yours. Being the heir to the Cameron fortune had its perks when you needed to get yourself out of the doghouse.

"So when are you gonna model some of these new outfits for me, hmm?" he murmured suggestively in your ear. "Maybe a private fashion show tonight? I'll even let you use my black AmEx again if you want to pick up some sexy lingerie to complete the looks." He grinned devilishly.

You rolled your eyes and gently pushed out of his embrace. "Down boy. You're not off the hook yet," you reminded him, though your tone had softened considerably. Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay okay, I know. But you gotta admit, the mental image is pretty hot," he said with a wink. you just shook your head, trying to hide your smile. You could never stay irritated with him for long. 

"Alright, I should get home and figure out what to do with the small mountain of designer clothes currently cluttering up my living room," You sighed. "I still can't believe you bought out the entire store."

Rafe waved a hand casually. "Don't even trip about it. Consider it just a small token of my love," he said smoothly.

You quirked an eyebrow. "A small token? Rafe, it's got to be worth at least $20,000 worth of stuff."

Rafe shrugged. "Meh, that's like pocket change for me, babe. You're worth it and so much more." He pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I'll swing by later to help you sort through it all, yeah?"

You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through now. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later." you gave him one last peck on the lips before heading out, shaking your head slightly at your ridiculous boyfriend's attempt to buy your forgiveness. But even you had to admit it was a pretty damn adorable gesture. The boy was utterly smitten, that much was clear. And even if it took a small army of delivery trucks worth of designer clothes to prove it, you supposed you couldn't complain. After all, what girl didn't love a massive shopping spree courtesy of the Cameron family fortune?

Rafe sauntered up the stairs of your beach house, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. your dad was away on a fishing charter and he knew you’d be home alone trying to organize the massive shipment of clothes he had sent over as an apology gift.

"Knock knock, princess!" he called out as he strode down the hall to your bedroom. "Did you get a chance to try on any of the new outfits I bought you?"

He pushed open your bedroom door to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by mounds of tissue paper and discarded shopping bags. You looked up at him in exasperation.

"Rafe! You could at least knock before barging into my room," you admonished. 

“My bad, didn't mean to startle you. Just excited to see my gifts being put to use," he said with a grin.

You sighed, gesturing to the chaos around you. "Well, I've been trying to sort through it all morning but there's just so much stuff. You went way overboard as usual."

"Anything to make my girl happy," Rafe replied smoothly, plopping down on the floor next to you. "Here, let me help you get organized."

He began sifting through the piles of clothing, occasionally holding up items for your inspection. "Ooh, you have to model this one for me," he said, grabbing a lacy black teddy. "And this mini skirt would look so hot on you."

You blushed deeply, snatching the risqué items out of his hands. "Rafe! My dad could be home any minute," you hissed in embarrassment.

"So? I want him to see how smoking his daughter looks in the outfits I bought her," Rafe said with a devilish grin. "Might make him finally approve of me."

You buried your face in your hands. "You're unbelievable," you groaned. "Can we please just focus on organizing? I don't have time for an impromptu fashion show."

"Fine fine, I'll behave. For now," he added in a playful whisper.

You guys spent the next hour sorting your new wardrobe into categories - dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, jewelry. Rafe "helped" by periodically holding up scandalous lingerie pieces and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until you threaten to smack him with a stiletto heel.

Despite your exasperation at the overabundance of clothing, you had to admit it was fun exploring all the different styles and accessories Rafe had picked out for you. The boy definitely knew your taste, even if he did go over-the-top with buying out the entire store. You made a mental note to donate some of the clothes to charity once you had a chance to try it all on.

You collapsed backwards onto a pile of cashmere sweaters. "Phew! We’re almost done." You smiled over at Rafe. "Thanks for your help. And for the very generous gift. Even though it's pretty ridiculous you bought out an entire store," you added with a laugh.

Rafe grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Anything for my princess," he murmured. "You deserve to be spoiled rotten."

You giggled as he nuzzled your neck, wrapping your arms around him. You supposed you couldn't stay irritated with him for long, not when he was just trying to show his affection through expensive gifts. Over-the-top as it may be.

"Alright Casanova, that's enough distracting me," You said, playfully nudging him away. "Now help me get all of these clothes put away in my closet before my dad gets home."

You shook your head in amusement. "You're absolutely ridiculous. But…" You tilted your head up to him and smiled."I love you for it."

Rafe playfully tackled you onto the pile of cashmere sweaters you had been sorting through. You let out a surprised squeal, smacking his chest lightly as he hovered over you. "Rafeee, I told you to behave!" you chided through your laughter. He just grinned mischievously, dipping his head to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you squirmed beneath him ticklishly.

"Mm mm, you know I can never keep my hands off you for long," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly. His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach and ribs. You shivered at the contact, cheeks flushing as you felt him growing hard against your thigh already. You really shouldn't be doing this with your dad liable to come home any minute…but then again, the risk just made it more exciting.

You bit your lip, hesitating only a moment longer before grabbing Rafe's face and crashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down against yours. Things were escalating fast, all thoughts of organizing clothes now tossed aside. Rafe broke the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head swiftly. His eyes drank in the sight of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.

"Damn baby…have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in all these new lingerie pieces I bought you?" He reached around to unclasp your bra, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimpered, arching into him. You were quickly losing the willpower to stop this and he knew it. His hands slid under your skirt, fingers dipping beneath your panties to find you wet and ready for him already. His hands wandered recklessly over your body, groping and grasping wherever they pleased..

"R-Rafe, my dad…" You gasped half-heartedly in protest even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

Rafe silenced you with another bruising kiss, grinding his arousal against you. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as a handle to maneuver your head for better access to your neck and chest.

"Shh, don't worry about him," Rafe crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "It's just us right now." His knee nudged between your legs, parting your thighs as he claimed your mouth once more.

Your knees went weak, overwhelmed by the onslaught of Rafe's hungry kisses and wandering hands. You clung to his shoulders for support, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the sparking heat of his body pressed to yours. Your token protests died away as Rafe's skilled fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts.

"That's my good girl," he praised darkly when you arched into his touch instead of pulling away. His knee rubbed teasingly between your legs as he continued his pleasurable assault, intent on showing you exactly who was in control here.

Your mind reeled, inner alarm bells drowned out by the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You knew you should push Rafe away, stop this before it went too far with your dad possibly home any minute. But your traitorous body seemed to have other ideas as it melted shamefully against Rafe's hard frame.

His kisses left you dizzy and compliant, willpower evaporating under the intoxicating strokes of his hands. But when those hands went to zip down your skirt, some deeply buried remnant of reason sparked back to life inside you.

"Rafe, stop," you gasped out, catching his wrists in your hands. He paused, eyes dark with lust and irritation at being denied his prize.

"Come on baby, don't be like that," he cajoled, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. "I know you want this too."

You shook your head, gently but firmly removing his hands from your body. "No, not now. Not here." Your cheeks burned but you held your ground. "I'm not comfortable going any further with my dad so close by. Can we please just…slow down?"

Rafe's jaw tightened, displeasure evident at having his fun interrupted. But after a tense moment he stepped back.

"Fine, princess, whatever you say," he relented, tone dripping with poorly concealed frustration. You let out a shaky breath, tugging your rumpled clothing back into place. Your lips still tingled from the force of Rafe's kisses but the frenzied moment had passed.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just don't want our first time to be so…rushed," You said earnestly, hoping he could understand despite his obvious annoyance at being denied. His eyes remained dark but he managed a tight smile.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Wouldn't want Daddy dearest walking in on us anyway," he said with an eye roll. You smiled weakly, knowing that was as close to understanding as you would get from him right now. At least he had backed off for the moment. But you had a feeling this conversation was far from over. Rafe did not like being told no.

He swallowed down his anger, forcing his face into a strained smile. He had to play this carefully; you Lila too much and you’d bolt. No, he needed to lure you in gently, make you trust him completely.

"Of course, princess. We'll take this at your pace," he said smoothly, stroking your cheek. "I just got carried away because you're so damn irresistible." He kissed your forehead, the very picture of understanding despite the lust still raging inside him.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you, Rafe. I'm glad you understand. I promise, when the time is right…" You trailed off, blushing. Rafe tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your neck teasingly.

"Don't worry baby, I'll make it so good for you when you're ready," he purred. You shivered, skin tingling from his touch. "For now, why don't you model some of these new outfits for me? Might give me a sneak peek of what I have to look forward to." He grinned devilishly.

You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "You're incorrigible," you admonished, but went to pick out a few items from the piles of new clothes. Rafe settled on your bed, hungry eyes tracking your every movement.  For now, he would enjoy the little fashion show. But it was only a matter of time before those clothes ended up scattered across the bedroom floor instead.

A relieved smile crossed your face as Rafe appeared to accept your request to slow things down without argument. You knew he must be frustrated, but you appreciate him respecting your boundaries for now. There would be a right time and place for intimacy later on.

As you sifted through the piles of new clothes, Your smile faltered slightly. You could feel Rafe's intense gaze following your every movement, almost palpable in its hunger. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not entirely an unpleasant one. Still, something about the glint in his eyes gave you pause.

You selected a few simple, conservative outfits to model - a loose fitting sundress, some shorts with a flowy blouse. But Rafe tsked in disappointment, getting up to rummage through the options himself.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he coaxed, grabbing a slinky miniskirt and cropped tank top. "I want to see my sexy girl shine." He shot you a playful grin as he pressed the revealing clothes into your hands.

You laughed nervously. "Rafe, those aren't really my style…" But he pouted childishly, guiding you towards the adjoining bathroom.

"Humor me? Just a peek," he insisted. You hesitated, then relented with a shy smile. You had never worn anything so risqué before, but the delight on Rafe's face was gratifying. And it was just the two of you after all…

You changed quickly, adjusting the tiny skirt over yourself. The top was snug and showed a hint of midriff that made you self-conscious. But Rafe's eager expression as you stepped out stopped any protests before they left your lips.

"Stunning," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. You blushed under his intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling very exposed. But you tried to push past it, giving an awkward little twirl to show off the outfit fully. Rafe's grin was downright predatory.

"Now take it off nice and slow," he said lowly, eyes raking over you. "Give me a proper show."

You balked, arms crossing instinctively over your torso. "Rafe, I…" His eyebrows shot up in challenge and you faltered. Maybe you were overthinking things. You didn't want to disappoint him again…

With trembling fingers, You reached for the hem of the snug tank top. But the voice inside screaming this was a bad idea only grew louder. You dropped your hands, shaking your head firmly as you backed towards the bathroom.

"I'm sorry Rafe, I can't do this. The clothes need to stay on." Your voice was small but resolute. You wouldn't ignore your instincts, not even to placate Rafe's desires. His scowl made your stomach twist anxiously, but you stood your ground, waiting for his response.

Taking a deep breath, Rafe fixed an understanding smile on his face. "You're right, I got carried away again. I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just can't control myself around you sometimes. You look so gorgeous in that outfit."

He approached you slowly until you allowed him to take your hands in his. "Of course the clothes should stay on until you're ready. I'm truly sorry for pushing you, princess." He brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a grateful smile. "It's okay, Rafe. Thank you for understanding." You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.

You emerged from the bathroom in a comfortable sundress, feeling infinitely more at ease now that you were back in your own clothes. Rafe's obvious disappointment tugged at your heartstrings for a moment, but you brushed it aside. You knew in your gut that stripping for him, even just down to your underwear, wasn't something you were ready for yet.

To your relief, Rafe seemed to have reigned himself in and was back to his usual charming self, apologizing for getting carried away again. You smiled up at him gratefully, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," You said earnestly. "It really means a lot. I know this is all new for me." you ducked your head a bit shyly.

Rafe tilted your chin up, smiling fondly as he gazed down at you. "Of course, princess. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm just happy to be with you," he assured you smoothly.

Your heart swelled. You knew you had been lucky to find a guy like Rafe. Wealthy Kook boys had a reputation for being entitled spoiled brats. But most people didn't get to see this sweet, caring side of Rafe like you did. He could be impulsive and hot headed at times, but he respected your boundaries when it really mattered.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," You declared, going up on tiptoe to kiss him warmly. Rafe grinned against your lips, strong arms circling your waist.

"Anything for my girl," he murmured affectionately when you broke apart. You playfully booped his nose, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Alright mister, as much as I appreciate these new clothes, I could really use some help donating some of them," you said in a practical tone. "I can't even wear this many outfits in a lifetime!"

Rafe heaved a dramatic sigh but smiled good-naturedly. "Fiiine, guess I did go a little overboard on the shopping spree," he conceded. You giggled.

"Just a bit. Come on, let's get started." You took his hand, leading him back to the piles of clothes awaiting sorting. Even if Rafe's impulsive extravagance could be frustrating at times, You were grateful to have someone so attentive and willing to lavish you with gifts and affection. You hoped in time he would come to value you for more than just your looks or virginity. For now, You were content to take things slow and simply enjoy exploring young love one day at a time.

Rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he let you lead him by the hand back to the piles of designer clothes he had gifted you. Donating them? What a pointless waste. He had spent a small fortune solely with the intent of seeing you decked out in finery, not giving it away to the destitute Pogues of the Cut.

But he bit his tongue, keeping up the doting act. "Of course I'll help, babe. Anything you want," he said smoothly, playing with your fingers.

Soon, he promised himself as he pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the forehead that contradicted his lustful thoughts. Your smile made him want to gag, but he mirrored it charmingly. Let you enjoy playing house a little while longer. He was adept at getting what he wanted from any woman eventually. The thought made Rafe's cock stir impatiently, but he willed it down. Not yet. He needed to lull you into total complacency first before finally stripping away the last of your resistance.

You hummed contentedly to yourself as you neatly folded clothes into donation boxes, Rafe helping beside you. You smiled up at him after he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, happy you guys seemed to be back in sync after the brief tension earlier.

You held up a slinky red cocktail dress, pondering keeping it for a special occasion. But no, it wasn't really your style at all. Into the donation box it went. You frowned slightly as you pulled out several incredibly risqué lingerie items - crotchless panties, lace teddies that left little to the imagination. Definitely not your taste.

"Geez Rafe, did you raid the whole lingerie section?" you asked with a laugh. Rafe just shrugged, unbothered. You shook your head in amusement as you set them aside to give to your more adventurous friend.

Once all the clothes were sorted, you surveyed the boxes contentedly. You had kept enough everyday outfits to last a lifetime, but now many girls in the Cut would have the chance to enjoy fancy new clothes too. It made you happy to spread the wealth, so to speak.

"There, all done! The donation center is going to be thrilled." You smiled brightly at Rafe. "This was a really great idea. I know I said it already, but thank you again for being so generous. And understanding about…everything," you finished, cheeks pinking slightly.

Rafe smiled back warmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Of course, babe. Anything for you," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggled into his side, relieved you seemed to be back on the same page.

You hoped with time, Rafe would see you as more than just a conquest or object of physical desire. For now, you were content taking it slow, focusing on emotional intimacy over physical. You had all the time in the world for those things later on if things progressed. But for today, You were simply happy snuggling innocently with the boy who made you feel so safe, protected and cherished. Everything was perfect just as it was.

[paracosm-draw]

Promptober Day 9 - Warmth ☄️

Tags : medical terms, injured Anakin, naked bodies, no smut

~~~

They were in the middle of the battlefield, rain pouring from the sky and making the ground muddy and slippery. All around, the fast bolt of the blasters pierced through the downpour, illuminating briefly the masks and faces of the Republic army.

Obi-Wan was on the front line, fending off shot after shot with his lightsaber to allow his men to progress. He was almost blinded by the rain dripping on his face and pooling on his eyebrows, hair stuck to his temples and neck, his damped clothes rubbing unpleasantly against his cold skin with each movement.

He was pushing away another battle droid when the Force shifted suddenly, twisting and straining the bond he shared with Anakin with such strength he fell on his knees, gasping for air as his chest clenched violently. The Force howled in agony around him, tossing him around as if he were a blade of grass in the midst of a hurricane of emotions, images and sensations flashing through his mind so fast he couldn't tell if they belonged to him or not.

Fear. Anger. Pain. Regrets. Pain. Pain. Pain. Solitude.

It lasted for what seemed to be an eternity, pulling at Obi-Wan’s intangible energy from all sides and so hard he was sure he was going to break. Then, as suddenly as it started, everything withdrew, every feeling, every sound, every image and he was left breathless and disoriented in the middle of the chaos. For a terrible, gut wrenching second he thought that the steady and familiar thread uniting their soul had been severed, teared apart and his heart stopped beating at the implication.

No.

“Anakin…” He breathed at the same time a strong pair of hands lifted him from the ground and put him back on his feet.

“Are you okay, General ?” Cody’s concerned voice asked from behind his helmet.

“Anakin.” He said again, still shaken to the core by what he just experienced. “Where is Anakin ?”

The clone frowned behind his mask, noticing the Jedi’s blemish face and wide eyes. He was too well trained to ask useless questions, especially as they were right in the middle of the fight and totally exposed, so his brain moved on to the next sensible thing to do now : take cover.

“He was just next to the cliff last time I saw him.” He answered, pulling Obi-Wan by the arm and shielding him with his own body until they were safe behind a large rock. “Do you want me to comm him ?”

“I don't know.” Obi-Wan swallowed, unable to think clearly. “I-”

“General.” Cody put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, the gesture grounding Obi-Wan a little bit. “What happened ?”

“I can’t feel him anymore.” The Jedi whispered. “I think something happened to him”

Cody stayed silent for a while, letting the sounds of the blaster shots, the explosions and the screams fill the space between them as he calculated a change of plan.

“Alright.” He said eventually, typing something on his commlink. “I’m coming with you.”

Obi-Wan knew that removing two men from their forces, let alone a Jedi, was not a strategic choice at all. But the visceral terror that gnawed at his guts right now prevented him from feeling guilty about it. All that mattered was Anakin.

Reaching the cliff took more time than Obi-Wan had anticipated. They still had to fight their way until there and the whole time the Jedi was projecting his life Force around to try to find Anakin’s signature somewhere, anywhere. But he remained untraceable.

They searched all along the cliff’s edge, screaming for his name in the chaos of the battle, asking everyone on their way. Cody even checked the bodies lying in the mud, aware that Obi-Wan would refuse to even think about that eventually.

“General.” He called after several minutes of vain research. “He could have fallen down the cliff.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and walked to the edge, looking down at the river rushing a dozen of meters below.

“General…” Cody approached carefully. “If he fell… You have to consider the possibility that he didn't-”

“No.” Obi-Wan interrupted him. “He’s alive. He has to be.”

“There’s a lot of rocks.” The clone replied quietly but not unkindly. “Such a fall would severely injure anyone. If they’re lucky.”

“Anakin is not anyone.” Obi-Wan replied stubbornly. “I’m going to find him. You don’t have to come with me.”

Cody shook his head and put his blaster back in the holster strapped around his waist.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

They find Anakin a mile away down the river, his body laying on a flat rock, face down. Obi-Wan runs to him, panic wrapping around his throat and suffocating him as he notices blood all around him, mixing with the rain.

“Anakin !” He chokes, letting himself fall by his side and wincing when his knees hit the hard ground for the second time today.

Gently, he grabs him by the shoulders to turn him on his back, dreading what he’s about to discover.

Anakin’s face is stained with blood that still drips from his forehead, sticking to his curls and damping the collar of his tunic. He probably hit his nose hard enough to make it bleed too, as well one of his lips and he has small contusions on his cheeks and jaw. He’s pale, so frighteningly pale.

Obi-Wan presses his fingers against his pulse point while Cody kneels on his other side, doing the same thing on his wrist. It takes a few excruciating seconds for them to feel something, a weak fluttering pulse that makes Obi-Wan’s eyes sting with pure relief.

“He’s alive.” He breathes shakily.

“I’m calling for a ship.” Cody says immediately, getting up again to comm one of the pilots.

Obi-Wan quickly checks Anakin’s body for other obvious injuries in the meantime. He doesn’t seem to have any open wounds but he doesn’t dare move him in case he risks making things worse. What if his spine is damaged or he suffers from internal bleeding ?

The only thing he allows himself is to place his hand on his cheek, pushed by the imperial need to feel him, to make sure he’s alive and breathing. His heart sinks when he notices how cold his skin is. Without thinking, he removes his own robes to lay it on Anakin’s body. It’s a useless gesture but he can’t stand the idea of his golden, always warm boy being frozen to the bones.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, gently pushing Anakin’s drenched curls from his still face. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me.”

When the ship arrives, Anakin is picked up on a stretcher and taken away to the tiny medical unit it carries. Obi-Wan silently blesses Cody for having the presence of mind to ask for a medic, gaining precious time for Anakin’s life. They don’t have a lot of equipment but they have enough to stabilize him until they’re back to the base.

The doctor asks them to help remove Anakin’s clothes while he puts an oxygen mask on his mouth and nose. He checks his vitals again, not satisfied about the results.

“He's unresponsive.” He says with a frown. “He might be in shock. He’s also hypothermic and injured, so we will have to act according to an order of priority.”

Obi-Wan nods, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I’m going to put him on warm fluids to help his body fight the shock and hopefully help him heat up a little bit.” The man explains quietly. “Then I'm going to take a blood sample to see if something's happening inside. If everything is fine, we’ll have to find a way to get his temperature back to normal, or at least, decent.”

“How ?” Obi-Wan asks.

As far as he knows they only have a limited stock of blankets and no heating pads.

“With the most wonderful and efficient source of heat I know.” The doctor answers. “Human’s heat.”

“Oh.”

Obi-Wan blushes slightly without knowing why. His gaze falls back on Anakin, so pale and so cold under his thin cover.

“Um, okay. I can- I can help with that.” He says with his steadier voice. “Just tell me what to do.”

“For now, wait until he’s stable.” The man replies, focused on putting a catheter on the inside of Anakin’s arm. “Then undress and hold him tight.”

Obi-Wan can’t help but blush fully at the blunt, clinical way the doctor states the whole thing. As if it’s a usual life-saving procedure. Maybe it is. Obi-Wan is no doctor after all.

He watches quietly as the man fusses around Anakin, branching him to a little bag of fluids and to a little machine monitoring his heart and respiratory rates as well as his temperature and level of oxygen. When he’s done, he looks over to Obi-Wan and gives him a nod.

“It's your moment.”

“Okay…” Obi-Wan approaches the bed hesitantly.

“I’m giving you some privacy.” The man says, gathering Anakin’s wet clothes to go make them dry somewhere. “I’m coming back in half an hour to check on him. Call me if something goes wrong in the meantime.”

“Understood.” Obi-Wan nods. “Thank you.”

When he's finally alone in the tiny medical room, the unit separated from the main room of the ship by a thin curtain only, he starts peeling off his soaked layers, realizing how cold he felt too now that a part of the adrenaline had worn off.

Anakin is still immobile on the small bed, just as pale as the sheets. Obi-Wan hesitates to keep his underwear but the fabric is as drenched as the rest of his clothes so he decides against it. His modesty is no match against Anakin’s life.

Taking two more blankets on his way, he slips by his side into the bed, shuddering when his cold skin presses against Anakin’s even colder one. After putting the extra blankets mostly on Anakin’s side, he wraps his arms and legs around his still, freezing body and holds him tight as the doctor asked.

At first it’s very unpleasant, Obi-Wan shivering in their shared wet coldness and thinking they were never going to warm up ever again. But after a while, the blankets start to do their job, preventing whatever warmth Obi-Wan is producing from escaping and progressively raising the temperature in the tight confines of the bed.

Later, Obi-Wan feels warm enough to stop shivering, and exhaustion starts numbing his mind and body, making him close his eyes without noticing.

When the doctor comes to check on Anakin, he finds them both asleep, Obi-Wan carefully but tightly wrapped against the younger Jedi in a protective, life-saving embrace.

Even later, when the sun starts to fall on the system, Obi-Wan is awakened by light movements against him. Emerging with difficulty from the deep slumber he fell in, he lifts an eyelid and he’s faced with Anakin's confused face and fluttering eyes.

“What happened ?” He murmurs.

“You fell from the cliff.” Obi-Wan replies in the same tone. “You almost died. But I found you.”

Anakin frowns and manages to pout.

“Didn't fall. Been pushed.” He mumbles.

“You managed to reach the shore.” Obi-Wan says. “Do you remember ?”

Anakin shakes his head.

“I only remember the cold. I was so cold. Never been that cold in my entire life.”

He frowns again then, slightly raising his head to take a look around, then at Obi-Wan, then under the covers.

“Why am I naked ?” He squints. “Why are you naked ?”

Obi-Wan fails pathetically against his own body when he tries not to blush.

“The doctor said you were in hypothermia. Someone had to keep you warm.”

“It was a life or death situation.” He adds for good measure.

“I see.” Anakin smirks, making the blush on Obi-Wan’s face spread to his chest. “Thank you for saving my life, then.”

“You’re welcome.” Obi-Wan mumbles, trying to hide a part of his face in the pillow.

“I’m still a bit cold, though.” Anakin grins. “I could probably still die.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, the heat coming from his face probably enough to keep Anakin warm for the century to come.

“Come here.” He grumbles, opening his arms wider, and Anakin loses no time snuggling against his chest, almost ripping the wires monitoring his health. “Careful, you’re still in a bad state.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The younger Jedi whispers against his neck, closing his eyes again.

Obi-Wan can't help but smile, slipping his fingers in the mass of golden hair curling on his head.

“How are you feeling ?” He asks.

He can feel Anakin smile against his skin, his fingers tightening around his waist. His heart is beating peacefully against his own. Beating, pumping life into his body. Obi-Wan has never heard a more beautiful sound.

“Warm.” Anakin answers.

[kunasthiast]

My God (3)

Everything's a negotiation these days. And, it's not something you'll pass up. After all, all of these will just be a ruse, right? Or not…

a/n: this is getting exciting for me T^T the characters are the ones writing this whole story for me sahdhsdah i swear i feel like Sukuna and reader's personalities are really shaping this story!!

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + angst, Yakuza AU, Enemies to Lovers Word Count: 2,548 All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

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“No ring?” 

Sukuna’s laughter rippled through the room, its timbre a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite grasp. His gaze bore into yours, a glint of genuine interest shimmering in the depths of his eyes.

You stifled a sigh, the weight of the moment pressing down on you like a heavy cloak. This wasn’t just a game anymore, was it? There is definitely something deeper, something unspoken between you and Sukuna. But for now, you have to focus on the very unexpected proposition at hand. Still can’t believe I said this one out loud.

Sukuna sauntered to the kitchen island, his movements deliberate and confident. As he perched on the edge and crossed his arms, his muscles rippled, drawing unwanted attention from you. Yeah, fuck those arms.

The tension in the air was palpable, like a taut string ready to snap. You know that this will be more than a simple proposition; it will be something full of deception and desire.

"Well, well, well," Sukuna drawled, his voice low and smooth tinged with curiosity. ”You certainly know how to make things interesting, princess."

His response was left you to wonder what lay beneath his confident facade. But one thing was certain—Sukuna was not one to back down from a challenge, especially when it came from you.

Meeting his gaze head-on you, matched his confidence with your own determination, refusing to let your emotions betray you. Emotions of desire, perhaps?

“And you know how to make things complicated, Sukuna,” you countered, your tone laced with equal parts annoyance and intrigue.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Touché,” he conceded, his smirk widening into a devilish grin. Ruffling his hair in a casual gesture, he leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering.

And, of course, he has to ask one of the most dreaded questions you’re looking out for to solidify this ruse. Like a guillotine waiting to fall.

“So, what’s in it for me?”

Sukuna’s question hung in the air, tinged with anticipation. Biting your lip, your mind raced as you weighed your words carefully, keenly aware of the staked at hand. “Piss Gojo off,” you replied, your tone calm but laced with underlying frustration. You both know which Gojo you are talking about.

The mere mention of Gojo seemed to inject an unexpected tension into the room.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your lips as you nervously bit down on the soft flesh. “Huh, you engaged to him or something?” Sukuna’s eyebrows raised in surprise, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. This is something that totally caught him off guard.

You sighed, the memory of your earlier confrontation with your father flooding back with a wave of irritation. “Father unfortunately had me arranged to him since forever and I only got to know about it today,” you explained, your voice tinged with resentment and bitterness.

To your surprise, Sukuna’s expression softened, a flicker of sympathy passing across his features. “I see,” he murmured, his tone surprisingly gentle as if he understood more than you realized.

Your heart skipped a beat (don’t worry, the pterodactyls are asleep) at the unexpected tenderness in his voice. “Before you agree, I have to negotiate this one with you,” you interjected, seizing the opportunity to lay down your terms before committing to this risky proposition.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his eyes alight with curiosity. "I’m listening," he replied, his interest piqued.

“Firstly,” you began, laying out the conditions of your proposal. “We’ll need to secretly get married. And you’ll have to agree to bring me to every meeting, no questions asked.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and amusement flickering across his features. “You want to get married for real?” he echoed, his tone incredulous.

“It’s the only way to make it believable and divorce's easy nowadays,” you replied, your voice steady. “And it comes with other conditions, too. No other relationships, no hook-ups. Just us.”

Sukuna's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. “You’re making me a celibate, princess?” he exclaimed, a hint of amusement coloring his words.

“It’s part of the deal,” you insisted, ignoring the waking up pterodactyls in your stomach. “And there’s one more condition: nobody can know about this ruse. Not even Uraume.”

His surprised expression quickly morphed into a smirk, amusement still dancing in his eyes as he processed your conditions. "Well, well, princess," he drawled standing up from the kitchen island with a newfound sense of intrigue. "You certainly don't hold back."

You met his gaze evenly, unwilling to show any sign of weakness in this dangerous negotiation. "I have to be thorough," you stated, your tone firm and resolute. "We can't afford any slip-ups."

Sukuna’s chuckle sent a thrill down your spine, his grin widening into a knowing smirk. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze locking with yours. "I can agree to those terms. But what's in it for me beyond just pissing off Gojo?"

You paused, considering his question carefully. There had to be something more to entice Sukuna, something that spoke to his ambitions and desires.

"We both know Gojo isn't the only one with a stake in this," you replied cryptically, your mind racing as you formulated your next move.

Sukuna's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Oh? Say, it, princess,” he prompted, leaning in closer with an eager anticipation.

You held his gaze, your expression unreadable as you revealed your next proposition. "If we can pull this off convincingly, it could significantly shift the balance of power between our families," you explained, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "And I have no doubt that you would enjoy being on the winning side."

Sukuna's grin widened into a smirk, a glint of excitement gleaming in his eyes. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," he remarked, his voice low and smooth. "But I like it."

You returned his smirk with a confident grin of your own. "Then we have a deal," you declared confidently.

But Sukuna wasn't finished yet. "Is this an indefinite ruse?" he asked, a hint of caution in his tone.

You shook your head, clarity guiding your response. "Just one year," you confirmed, your voice steady and resolute.

Sukuna mulled over your words for a moment before another question arose. “So, when are we getting married?" he asked, his curiosity evident.

"In three days," you replied without hesitation, already formulating the plans in your mind.

Sukuna nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Alright, you got me in your hands, princess," he agreed, his tone filled with anticipation and a hint of excitement. 

—

Sitting in his study bathed in the golden hues of late afternoon sunlight, your father's attention was drawn to the insistent ringing of his phone. The clinking of ice against glass resonated as he lifted his crystal tumbler, taking a measured sip of his scotch before answering the call.

“Is everything ready?” His voice, rich and commanding, filled the room with an aura of authority.

A brief pause followed, during which the silence seemed to stretch taut, only broken by the distant hum of the city beyond the windows.

“There has to be no mistake this time around,” he continued, his tone firm and unwavering. “You know what’ll happen if there is.”

The gravity of his words hung heavy in the air, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation.

—

Sitting in behind the wheel of your car, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you like a heavy cloak, you glanced at your phone for the time.

10:42 PM.

With a weary sigh, you rubbed your temples, feeling utterly drained from the tumultuous day you had endured. The thought of returning to your father's imposing mansion held no appeal tonight, not with the turmoil brewing within its walls.

Thank the heavens you made the decision a few years back to slowly carve out your own space in the world, purchasing a penthouse apartment near the bustling heart of the city. It was a sanctuary of sorts, a refuge from the expectations and pressures of your family's legacy.

As you shifted the car into gear, you knew that tonight, you would seek solace in the quiet comfort of your own home, far away from the echoing halls of your father's domain.

Navigating through the city streets, your mind wandered, replaying the events of the day. From the tense confrontation with your father to the unexpected proposition from Sukuna, and even the burnt orange chicken mishap—each memory added another layer to the burden you carried.

“Nice plan, self. Way to go and embarrass yourself,” you muttered wryly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone.

Arriving at your penthouse apartment building, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. With a sense of relief washing over you, you parked your car at the underground parking and made your way to the elevator.

In the midst of this silent retreat, a message from an unwelcome sender flashed across your phone screen. Can’t this day get any more worse than last night? 

Fucker: heard our wedding’s in a week, baby ♡

“Oh my fucking god,” you irritatingly exclaimed, a surge of frustration and rising within you. 

With a swift motion, you deleted the message, unwilling to entertain Satoru’s attempts to provoke you. You blocked his number as means of reclaiming your peace of mind.

Entering the elevator, you jabbed impatiently at the button for your floor, eager to retreat to the sanctuary of your apartment. The doors slid shut, enveloping you in a cocoon of solitude as the elevator ascended. But as the elevator doors opened onto your floor, you were met with an unexpected sight—a figure clad in silk pajamas, leaning casually against the wall.

Your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with Sukuna, his presence sending a jolt of surprise coursing through you. A mixture of irritation and disbelief welled up within you as he quipped, “Oh, how interesting, can’t wait for our honeymoon, princess?" his voice laced with shock and sarcasm.

"Seriously?" you shot back, your tone dripping with exasperation. "What are you doing here, Sukuna?”

Dropping his shocked expression, he had his signature smirk back on his face with his casual demeanor only serving to frustrate you even more. “Honey, I live here,” he added with a chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pointed at a door, opposite of yours.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his unexpected revelation, momentarily catching you off guard. "Wait, what? You’re my neighbor?!” you exclaimed, a mixture of disbelief and incredulity coloring your voice.

Sukuna's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he watched your reaction. “You live here?” he taunted, his tone playful. "Didn't think you'd have your husband as a neighbor, did you?” Yep, he’s as shocked as you.

The absurdity of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Sukuna being not only your soon-to-be husband (it’s a ruse, okay?) but also your neighbor felt like a twist straight out of a convoluted drama. You struggled to wrap your head around the surreal irony, feeling like you were trapped in some alternate reality.

As you stepped out of the elevator, Sukuna pushed himself off the wall, his smirk never faltering, you couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration bubbling within you.

“Wouldn’t this make our ruse even more believable, princess?” He teased, “you can't deny the thrill of it all. The universe has a twisted sense of humor, doesn't it?”

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. Sukuna’s not leaving you anytime, he’s there to stay in your mind. In your family. In your plan. In your fucking apartment building.

You gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his cocky demeanor. "I am not amused and this is not some kind of twisted joke," you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest defensively and tone sharp with irritation and anticipation.

As Sukuna sauntered towards you with lazy confidence with a chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine for the nth time today. "Oh, lighten up, princess," he teased, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "We're in this situation together, whether you like it or not.”

You know what situation this is. The next family head. The one-year ruse. The hidden feelings, desires, and attraction. Everything.

You recoiled at his touch, feeling a surge of defiance rising within you. "Speak for yourself," you retorted, stepping back to put some distance between you.

Though Sukuna's smirk faltered momentarily, it quickly returned, his demeanor unchanged. "Well, you’re still as feisty as ever,” he remarked, amusement lacing his tone. "I love it a lot,” he added with a wink.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his blatant flirtation, refusing to let him see how much his presence unnerved you. With a determined set to your jaw, you turned on your heel and headed towards your apartment, leaving Sukuna behind in the hallway.

As you closed the door behind you, you let out a shaky breath, feeling a mix of frustration and unease swirling inside you. The encounter with Sukuna had only served to heighten your sense of apprehension, leaving you more unsettled than ever.

Meanwhile, Sukuna chuckled to himself as he watched you retreat into your apartment. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him, and he couldn't help but find amusement in the twists and turns fate had delivered. 

"Really funny how the universe works," he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Yet, his amusement was short-lived as he felt a familiar sensation stirring within him, a primal urge that demanded attention.

"She'll be the death of me," he muttered under his breath, a wry smirk playing on his lips. Despite the gravity of the situation, a surge of desire coursed through him, igniting a primal need that demanded attention.

Suppressing the urge with practiced ease, Sukuna reached into the pockets of his silk pajamas and retrieved his phone. With a swift motion, he dialed a number, his voice laced with confidence and authority as he spoke into the receiver.

“Let Toji handle this one,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. Turning away from the elevator, Sukuna made his way back into his apartment.

—

“What a cold bitch,” a man with striking white hair and undeniably beautiful blue eyes exclaimed as he closed his phone, his frustration palpable in the air around him.

Gojo Satoru was not one to take rejections or being ignored lightly. His charismatic demeanor masked a temper that could flare up with little warning, especially when his advances were rebuffed.

With a flicker of annoyance in his piercing blue eyes, he pocketed his phone and leaned against the wall, his mind already plotting of his next move. Satoru was not one to be ignored, and he was determined to ensure that you would meet him, whether you liked it or not. After all, he certainly wasn't about to let it slide without a response.

[dreamcubed]

call it what you want | draco malfoy x reader

song; call it what you want [taylor swift] pairing; draco malfoy x fem!muggle!reader genre; fluff, angst, forbidden love, s2l word count; 4,3k timeline; post-second wizarding war warnings; draco's daddy issues, low-key y/n's daddy issues, references to the second wizarding war (and draco's part in it), discrimination (of muggleborns) summary; his entire life, draco had it drilled into him that anything to do with muggles was bad- impure, even. but after his father is imprisoned for life, he decides to venture into the muggle world- just as a temporary thing, of course

suggested by @tendous-pretty-hair !!

masterlist

"my baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like i'm brand new."

also i have fucking eras tour tickets!!!

—————————————————

Draco had found himself at an emotional stand-still ever since the Second Wizarding War - more specifically the events of the Battle of Hogwarts. After he had regrettably joined Voldemort's side in the mass fallout, only for him to lose anyway. He wasn't sentenced to any time in Azkaban, since it was deemed that he had been coerced into the situation, as backed up by his mother, who had been pardoned due to saving Harry Potter's life in the final moments. His father, however, would never feel the light of happiness again, caged away in the breeding ground of fear.

It wasn't that Draco missed Lucius all that much, in fact, quite the opposite. The time away from him had allowed him and Narcissa to grow closer, and also given him the opportunity to properly question and break down the beliefs that had been hammered into his head since infancy.

Eventually, he decided to step foot into unknown territory: muggle London. He had only ever been to the magic side of it before, but he had come to the realisation that living such a sheltered life was the reason he wound up another of Voldemort's slaves. That lifestyle would be no more.

He found himself stood outside of a small music store, displayed to have vinyls, CDs and cassette tapes inside - whatever they were. Draco did know what music was, however, and wanted to understand the way that muggles experienced it. So, he stepped foot into the shop with the tinkling of a tiny silver bell above him alerting whoever was working behind the tall overflowing shelves.

There were more people perusing the shelves than he had anticipated, so he ducked his head down and headed to an emptier area of the shop. As he began scanning the labels on the shelves, his confusion grew as he realised that he recognised none of the names.

"You don't look like a death metal fan," a voice to his left caught him by surprise, making him jump.

He turned around to have his eyes meet the gaze of a woman wearing an amused smile. You couldn't help but laugh slightly at his skittishness.

"Forgive me, but it's not everyday we have a man dressed in a perfectly ironed suit come and check out the works of Morbid Angel."

After his brain caught up to him, he said, "You work here?"

You nodded, "Family business - me and my mum."

Draco didn't reply to your statement, turning back to the shelves.

"You seem a little lost, first time in a music shop?"

"Uh- yeah," he said, "My family never played music growing up." That was a lie - the Malfoys had held many a musical event, however, they took the form of private orchestral bands.

"You're joking," your expression was that of shock, "How have you lived such a musicless life?"

He shrugged.

"God, I was practically raised on music- I mean, obviously," you gestured around you, "It's everything to me."

"My father was a very strict man," he said simply, making you hum.

"I see. God, I just can't believe you've hardly listened to music - we have to change that," you said, "Do you have any idea what sort of sounds you like?"

"I think I like classical music," it was all he had ever really known.

You grinned, "Yeah, that definitely suits the way you're dressed more than death metal. Come on, I'll set you up with some stuff. Vinyls, CDs or tapes?"

From what he could gather, vinyls were the larger circles, and he was pretty sure that Malfoy Manor had a phonograph with the large brass tube attached for the purpose of playing them. Like the one he saw at the Yule Ball all those years ago. "Uh, vinyl? The big black disc?"

You bobbed your head, "They're becoming less popular these days - people mostly want CDs," you then paused for a moment, "Although my mum said they'll probably have a resurgence in another twenty years. Making an aesthetic of past trends and all that."

Draco listened curiously as you babbled on about different musicians, bands, and albums, finding himself enraptured by the way you carried yourself. Salazar, his father would throw a fit if he found out that he was willingly talking to a muggle.

But his father wasn't there.

"So, do any of these interest you?" you finished, smiling at the ever stoic man before you.

"Uh, yes- all of them," he wasn't sure if he liked the music genre you suggested or the way you talked so passionately.

"All of them?" you tilted your head, "That's- like- hundreds of pounds."

He began digging around in his pockets for the money he had exchanged earlier before coming, and your eyes widened at the sight of all the twenty pound notes.

"Right," you said in a state of shock, "I'll... ring these up for you."

As you totalled up the price and packaged the vinyls into a bag over at the till, the man watched you, as if he was meticulously detailing your every move. Weirdly, it didn't feel creepy.

"Okay that will be... £404.39," you said, in awe of the fact he seemed unfazed by the number.

He began counting out the notes, before handing them over to you: £420 worth of twenty pound notes in your hand. You counted the change out and handed it back to him, placing the receipt in the bag.

"Thank you for shopping here, come again..." you trailed off, realising you didn't know his name.

"Draco," he said, stopping himself before saying his last name. Although he knew that you wouldn't recognise it anyway.

You couldn't help but think that he had a peculiar name; regardless, you smiled, and said, "Y/N. Please come again."

He nodded, taking the bag and leaving the shop swiftly without so much as looking back once.

***

A week passed by and Draco found himself stood outside of the record shop, unsure of why he had returned. During his last visit he had purchased months worth of music, so really he had no need to be back.

Except, he did.

His social circle had been non-existent ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, not because Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott no longer wanted to be friends with him, but because he had isolated himself in Malfoy Manor with his mother. Draco was nearing being ready to owl them again, but reconnecting with them meant inevitably having to unpack the events of the war.

With a muggle stranger like you, however, there was no unpacking to do.

"Draco, you're back," you grinned, coming out from behind the till, "I was hoping you would."

"Why?"

His abrupt question caught you off guard, "Well, I- I don't know. You're an interesting character," that and you thought he was cute.

Draco stared blankly at you, making you shift uncomfortably on your feet. Eventually, you decided to change the subject.

"Here for more music?"

"Oh, uh- yes."

"Well, what were your favourites from last week's purchases?"

After he told you which ones he had enjoyed the most, you were able to develop some kind of idea as to specific kinds of music to indulge him into. Of course, you had a question burning at the back of your mind that you simply had to ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do for a living?"

He looked up at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"It's just- vinyls aren't cheap, especially not in as large a quantity as you get them," you elaborated, "I assume you have a well paying job."

Draco sighed, shaking his head, "Family money."

"You mean old money?" you couldn't help but clarify.

He reluctantly nodded, "Yes, old money." He used to be so boastful and prideful of the Malfoy family legacy, but in that moment, despite you having no idea who he was, he could only feel shame when he thought of it.

"Okay, Mr. Fancy," you chuckled, "Let's continue your musical adventure."

Even as you proceeded to serve him with a chipper attitude, you couldn't help but be saddened by learning that he was old money. There was no way that you stood a chance, since old money families liked to marry each other and not someone who was simply the daughter of a small record shop.

At least you learned that piece of information about him early on, you reasoned.

***

"Back? Again?" you questioned incredulously, spying Draco stood in the doorway of your shop, "Hate to turn you away, but we're about to close."

"I know."

You paused, frowning slightly as you grasped hold of the door, "Uh, okay, then... bye?" You began slowly shutting the door.

"Wait."

Again, you paused.

"I need help."

Opening the door fully again, you placed a hand on your hip as you said, "With regards to what?"

You didn't know what to think when he presented a small battered flip phone to you on his milky white palm.

"A phone?"

"I found it. On the floor."

"Musta fell outta someone's pocket," you shrugged, "Happens - why do you need help?"

"Well, don't we need to do something about it?"

All you could do was look at him curiously.

"Is that not- is that not what you do?" maybe he was overcompensating for his past by trying desperately to do one small good deed, or maybe he was trying to prove to you that he was a good person even though you had no reason to believe otherwise. Either way, he wanted to return the muggle contraption to its rightful owner.

"I mean- I guess? If you're feeling nice," you said simply, "Can't lie, I'd probably leave it for someone else to deal with."

"How do I return it?"

You sighed, "Just call the last person they called."

"Right, okay."

Much to your confusion, Draco stared at the device as if he was trying to will it into doing what he wanted.

"You do know how to call someone, yes?" you asked, your arms now folded across your chest.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head.

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside, "Come in."

Once Draco was inside your shop, you shut the door and flipped the sign from 'open' to 'closed'.

"Give it," you made a grabbing motion with your fingers, and the man before you immediately handed over the device, "It's really easy-" he watched in amazement as you flipped open the phone, "-just use the arrow buttons here to go to call history- and, oh, look! Last person they called was their mum- press the green call button and bam."

You presented the now dialling phone to him.

"They have been notified now?"

"Well, her phone will be ringing- hopefully she'll pick up."

"Pick up?"

"Hello?" a voice from the phone announced, "Cadie?"

"Hello, ma'am, your daughter dropped her phone and we found it."

"Oh, I see. Thank you- I'll let her know so she can pick it up. Where's a good place?"

As you told the concerned mother the address of your record shop, you watched Draco's intrigued expression.

You hung up, placing the phone on a nearby surface and beginning to walk to the back room, "Would you like some tea?" you asked.

He stared blankly at you for a few moments, before nodding, "Please."

"How do you take it?"

"No milk, one sugar."

You chuckled to yourself at his strange way of having tea.

***

Draco watched you as you chatted mindlessly while sipping your tea, almost entirely forgetting that he had his own cup sat to his side. Your topics were classically boring - yet so interesting to him. He was enthralled to learn about the different characters in your family, and the trials and tribulations of your school years. He hadn't even realised how little he had said until you pointed it out.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" he went, snapping out of his daze.

"I feel like I've just been talking about myself this entire time. Where did you go to school?"

"Oh- uh-" he desperately pulled together all his thoughts, "A private boarding school in Scotland."

Your mouth dropped open, "Wow, that's cool."

He shrugged.

"Did you miss your family while you were away all year?"

Again, he shrugged, "My mother, yes- my father... not so much."

"I don't see my father at all," you added, to make him feel more comfortable about sharing details of his own father, "I used to... but I realised it was always me reaching out and not him so I stopped. Haven't heard from him since."

Draco nodded, "My father is in prison."

He didn't know why he told you, only realising what he had just said when you froze for a few seconds with widened eyes.

"Can I ask what for?" you asked in a squeaky voice.

"Uh... terrorism, murder... that sort of thing," he had no clue why he was being so honest. Had you put veritaserum in the tea?

You cleared your throat, wanting to delicately change the subject but lacking a way on how to do it naturally. Draco observed you, and opened his mouth to say something more when a knock sounded on the door.

"That's- uh- that's probably the phone owner," you said quickly, rushing to your feet to run out of the back room and let them in.

You opened the door to be faced with a short brunette woman.

"Cadie?" you questioned.

She nodded, "You have my phone?"

"Yes, come in."

"Thank you so much- I really can't afford a new one right now," she sighed, "I'm always losing things."

You chuckled, "I know how you feel- I'm always breaking things."

Draco appeared in the doorway to the back and picked up the phone from the counter.

Cadie sighed happily, accepting the phone and thanking the both of you profusely.

"Seriously, you have no idea how appreciative I am."

"It's no trouble, Cadie, really," you assured her.

She paused for a moment, looking around. "Is this your shop?"

You bobbed your head, "Yes, it's family-owned."

"Oh, that's so cool," she looked towards Draco, "So this is your husband?"

You were so taken aback you couldn't even form a response. Before either of you could reply, the phone began ringing.

"It's my boss! I have to take this," she said, "Thank you so much again. You two are a cute couple." And with that final comment, she departed, leaving you and Draco in an awkward silence.

"I-" you began, but you were quickly interrupted.

"Go on a date with me," Draco hurriedly said, realising he had said it like an order rather than an innocent question. He was still in some ways his old bossy teenage self, socialised in a slightly abnormal way.

You took it in good humour, however, and smiled, "I would love to."

***

The following six months were filled with the fanciest and most luxurious dates that you could ever have possibly imagined: five star restaurants, weekends in Paris, and expensive gifts. It was heaven in all ways but one - Draco always had an excuse for you not meeting his family and friends.

For a while, you had ignored the itching feeling that he was ashamed of you and so kept you a secret, but your suspicions grew until you couldn't keep it in anymore. You had to confront him about it.

"...and I was thinking, we should go out for dinner with your mother," you said, flicking through a magazine as Draco sat on the sofa in your small but homely flat.

"When?" he asked.

"Whenever's good for her."

You heard Draco's breath hitch.

"What? Can't come up with an excuse to get out of this one?" your tone held evident bite.

Draco turned around to face you, but his expression was unreadable.

"Are you ashamed of me, Draco?"

His eyes widened.

"I know I'm not rich, let alone old money, but I'd like to think that I'm a likeable person."

He shook his head, "It's not that-"

"Then what is it, Draco?" you snapped, feeling tears fill up your eyes, "You won't even introduce me to your friends! How am I supposed to feel?"

He stood up and began shifting on his feet and fidgeting with his hands, "It's more complicated than that."

"What? You're engaged to someone else?"

Again, he shook his head, "No, nothing like that."

"Then what?" you waved your hands about, "Because I can't date someone who treats me like a secret."

"You wouldn't believe me!" he yelled, clearly unintentionally.

You were shocked: you had never heard him yell before. "Try me," you said, your voice low.

He sighed, moving around helplessly for a few moments before striding over to his bag by your front door. He reached his hand in - what appeared to be deeper than the bag's actual depth, but you dismissed it due to your blurred vision - and pulled out a blank piece of paper, tinged brown.

He came over to you and placed it on the kitchen island you were stood behind, and pointed at the bottom of the page. "Sign here."

"It's blank," you thought he was insane.

"Just trust me. Please."

You gave him a skeptical look, but wiped your eyes and picked up a pen nonetheless, writing your signature in the area he pointed to. To your amazement, the second you finished the last letter of your name, writing appeared on the paper. As you scanned it, you were increasingly confused.

- By signing this non-disclosure agreement, you agree that as a muggle you shall not disclose the existence of wizardry and witchcraft to anyone not already in knowledge of it. You understand that by doing so, you would be breaking the law and could face potential criminalisation. The wizard or witch of whom has vouched for your approval to know of magic shall also face potential criminalisation in such a situation.

It will no longer be a criminal offence for wizards and witches to perform magic with you as a witness unless there are unapproved muggles also present.

You will be granted access to wizard-only areas including but not limited to Diagon Alley and Platfrom Nine and Three Quarters at King's Cross provided that you are accompanied by a wizard or witch. Please be aware that these permissions may vary in other countries depending on their laws surrounding muggle knowledge of magic and also their acceptance of the British Muggle Non-Disclosure Agreement.

Please sign your name below. -

"What is this?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed.

"An NDA."

"Yes, I- I gathered that- but- what does it mean?"

"It means... that I'm a wizard."

Part of you wanted to burst out laughing at Draco's insane words, but the way he said it held so much depth that you couldn't help but take it seriously.

"Prove it."

You didn't know what you had expected, but you certainly didn't anticipate your boyfriend pulling out a wand and muttering what sounded like Latin under his breath.

The pen on the table before you morphed into a feather.

There were really no words to describe how you felt in that moment. You asked him to do it again - he turned the feather into a sharpener. You asked him to do it one more time - he turned the sharpener into a fork.

"Oh my God," you said at the volume of a whisper, stepping back and falling against the counter behind you, "What the actual fuck."

"I know this may come as a shock to you..."

"Really?" you said, "No, actually. Not freaking out at all. Not even a little."

He pursed his lips, "My family is what is known as pure-bloods. We haven't mixed with muggles when it comes to reproduction at any point in our bloodline - allegedly."

You stared at him.

"Sometimes, a witch or wizard can be born of muggle parents - we call them muggle-borns. Half-bloods make up the most of wizarding society - their ancestors are a mix of muggle, muggle-born, pure-blood and half-blood."

At your lack of speech, he continued.

"There is a culture of supremacy among pure-blood families - choosing to reproduce only with other pure-bloods to ensure the pure-blooded line continues as they believe themselves to be the only true witches and wizards."

"You're pure-blood," you mumbled.

Draco nodded, "I used to think like that. Used to bully muggle-borns in school - the school I went to being specifically for witches and wizards."

"You don't think like that anymore?"

"No," he quickly said, "I've had a lot of time to question everything I was taught to believe - but, I- there's something really bad I have to tell you. It may change your opinion of me forever and it's the reason why I have kept you away from my family and friends."

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what he was about to tell you.

"Years ago, there was a war in the wizarding world..." he began.

***

You had never seen Draco in tears before, but when he reached the details of the final showdown between Harry Potter (a heroic celebrity in the wizarding world) and Lord Voldemort (a wizard terrorist), he broke down in sobs as he recalled him walking over to the latter's side. Tears were falling down your cheeks soon too, and you quickly brought Draco into your arms and felt him collapse into you.

"I regret it every single day," he said through sobs, "Why didn't I have more of a backbone?"

"You were just a boy, Draco," you soothed him, "You didn't want your family to be killed."

He cried harder.

"My opinion of you is not changed - by the sounds of it you never actually killed anyone yourself," you thought back to the Professor Dumbledore section of the story, "In fact, it sounds like you couldn't bring yourself to."

"I can never make up for my past, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "You dating a muggle is pretty solid evidence you're trying to."

"I'm not dating you because you're muggle," he pulled back from you and looked you in the eyes.

You chuckled slightly, wiping the tears off his cheeks with your thumbs, "That's not what I was saying. Young you would have never even considered entering the muggle world, and yet here adult you is."

He gave you a small smile, "I love you."

You beamed, but teardrops were still cascading down your cheeks, "I love you too."

"Let's have dinner with my mother on Sunday."

***

"Mr Malfoy, you may see your father now," the Azkaban worker said, who Draco couldn't help but think reminded him strongly of Filch. An old miserable man with long scraggly hair, an unmissable limp, and filthy dark-coloured robes. Then again, at least this worker had a reason to be miserable all the time: working in the breeding ground of fear and desolation. Filch was by all means in a much more cheerful environment.

Draco nodded at him, and followed his lead down shadowed narrow corridors, caked in dirt and dust. They turned a few corners and went up a few sets of dangerously steep stairs before reaching a cell block with moans and whines coming from every cell - except one.

In all honesty, Draco hadn't known what to expect when he came to see his father: he hadn't visited once since his arrest. But Lucius looked quite different than the proud man he once was, with his once well-kept long blond hair being knotty and entwined with filth, and his once healthy (albeit pale) complexion being overly skinny with sallow sunken features. He looked up at his son, still being able to produce a slight scowl.

"So, you finally decided to visit," he drawled, but his voice was too broken to hold the same threat it used to.

"Yes, father, I have some things I need to say to you," despite Lucius' weakened state, Draco still held some lifelong fear of the man, but he had to remain strong in front of him.

"And what would that be?"

"I have a girlfriend, and I plan to propose to her."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Your mother has not mentioned this," Narcissa frequently visited her husband.

"She didn't find out until last week."

After some seconds of silence, Lucius slowly rose to his feet and stood face-to-face with Draco at the cell gate. "What is her name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"L/N does not ring a bell. Which bloodline is she from?"

Draco felt intimidated by his father's close proximity, but still managed a smirk, "She isn't of pure blood, Father."

Lucius' eyes widened, "You don't mean to say she's- half blood? Or worse- a- a mudblood?"

"Worse," his smirk grew, "She's muggle."

The ghostly shock that flooded over Lucius' face made Draco feel a triumph over his father he had never felt before, and gave him the confidence to feel as though he had the upper hand in their interaction. He stepped closer to the cell and lowered his voice.

"And I'm going to marry her, and have children with her, and you will have to spend the rest of your life rotting in this cell knowing that the Malfoy pure blood line has been permanently tainted."

"You can't do this," Lucius said through gritted teeth, "After everything we fought for."

Draco hummed, "See, I thought it was time for me to finally fight for something good."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 02/06/2023 —> 17/07/2023 published; 17/07/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

[toutvatoujoursbien]

A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash? 

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably.  Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it. 

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really). 

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo. 

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very  unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play. 

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read. 

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make. 

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he’s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part. 

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media -  they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it. 

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time. 

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way. 

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye. 

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything. 

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

[amyelevenn]

the knife cuts both ways

PAIRING; Max Verstappen x driver!reader

SUMMARY; a pre-race argument between you and Max has harsher consequences than either of you were anticipating.

WARNINGS; talks of a car accident, somewhat graphic descriptions of the aftermath. angst no comfort

A/N; yes this is the cliche reader gets into an accident after an argument but I couldn't help myself, it's a canon event okay!

1.2k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

Max’s words just replayed in your mind, over and over and over and over, with no sign of ever running themselves thin.

“Your legacy will never live up to mine. I’m sorry I’m the better driver. You aren’t even in competition with me!”

You were sure he had said more, but you had tuned out what he was saying in hopes of having something left to salvage.

Picking at your lip to distract yourself proved ineffective – it had started bleeding, and you were still unable to take your mind off of it all. It didn’t help that you hadn’t even bothered to speak to him, or even go near his vicinity, after the matter. It did however help having motorhomes on complete opposite ends of the paddock, being able to easily navigate away from him and his team. You were still way too mad, needing much more than a few hours to cool off from the heat of the argument.

It would have to wait until the end of the race, at the least. If not, until the pair of you had flown home together, away from the prying eyes and ears of the paparazzi and fans alike. You weren’t even public with each other, so you were sure the media would have a field day with the current championship leader being in a screaming match with his only female colleague.

You hated how easily a small part of you wanted to give in to him, to just let it all breeze over just to be in his arms again, despite the horrible things that came out of his mouth.

If it wasn’t him, it would have been someone else, you try to rationalize. Everyone was thinking it, he was just the one who had the guts to verbalize it. But a small, minuscule part of you will always know that someone who loved you would never speak of you like that; no one who had any ounce of regard for your emotions would treat you the way he did.

But it was the fact that he chose to single out you.It was you who isn’t in competition with him. Not your team, or your car, you. Your legacy who would never live up to his, the 3-time world champion.

The whole of that Saturday night and Sunday morning had gone by in a blur. You weren’t even sure how you got in your car, fully equipped and watching the red lights go out as the race began.

Of course he would ruin the race that you’d be starting the highest you had before. In fact, that was the basis of your whole argument; you being proud of making it to Q3 and placing P8, but him complaining about barely making pole.

It was a massive achievement for you and your team – points weren’t something you exactly walked by every day, and you had the opportunity to score big here. But something about the importance of this race for you didn’t comprehend in Max’s mind.

The first couple laps went by smoothly, taking a couple overtakes under you belt, lined up in a solid P5. You see a Red Bull in your mirror, and before you can even ask, a voice in your ear informs you of “Perez, 1.1 behind.”

Weaving in and out of the chicanes, you get constant updates of the rocket slowing inching closer and closer to you, until you are hit with “Perez, 0.8 behind with DRS. Need you to push here.”

You were a good driver. A good team player, who followed the orders you were given to a T. so how you ended up snagging the back of the Red Bull as he overtook you was beyond you.

“Holy shit!”

That’s all you could say right before you black out; not something prophetic or memorable, but a base utterance steeped in a casual strain of effort to recentre the car. In the fleeting seconds that the words take form and flight, your brain cycles through a million images, memories plastered on a spinning reel. The blur of your life becomes a recognizable whole. You have always been your worst enemy and saviour.

Hurtling towards the concrete barrier, your brakes fail. You pray to deity above that you don’t even believe in for some kind of salvation; to make it out of this burning wreckage alive.

Your vision disappears for what feels like a millisecond, but there is too much chaos in too little time to be able to determine just how long it was. Your hearing was obliterated, the silence deafening and all consuming, forcing you into battling the line between consciousness and unconsciousness. You couldn’t move, even when you tried your very hardest – no amount of adrenaline would be able to push your paralyzed limbs enough to climb out of the crumpled mess once known as your car.

A hand frantically tapping on your helmet was the only way you knew you had survived; that there was still some life inside you, persevering in a time of desperation. You still had some feeling, which was a good sign.

But that was the breaking point, pushing you over the edge and taking Death’s hand.

Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing. A red flag, around turn 1. He was just there, so it would’ve had to have been someone close behind him. He slows around the last couple corners, the rest of the grid trailing behind.

“Are they okay?” he asks, as if it was some routine he had to follow rather than someone’s safety at stake. The lack of response he receives snaps him out of his clinical nature, even sparking a small bit of fear at losing a friend.

“Who is it, GP?”

“Get the car back to the garage, then we will talk.”

If that didn’t set Max’s nerves of fire, nothing else would.

He doesn’t reckon he has ever gotten out of his car quicker, fast to rip of his helmet to get a better view of the track marshals hailing over the ambulance. Their blaring sirens could be heard from the pitlane, a sound that sent a collective chill down everyone’s spines.

Perez was the one to tell him that it was your car. he was telling the crew how you clipped his back tire, but his car seemed to not have any damage. You had taken the brunt of the collision, if you could even call it that.

It was almost as if Max could feel the blood drain from his face at the mention of your name. Hearing it out loud confirmed his biggest nightmare – you were out there, hurt and surrounded by strangers thinking that he hated you.

He wanted to throw up, feeling beyond sick to his stomach at the thought of losing you before he had the chance to reconcile with you. He couldn’t afford to not have you by his side – even though you were private, you were his person – the love of his life, who he was watching die in front of his eyes.

How had he managed to get himself in this situation?

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

[nctnanajaemin]

my brother's bestfriend pairing: lee jeno x na!sister reader chapter seven  word count:1.2k warnings: pregnancy

it's been a couple of days since the talk with jaemin. you got a job at the local coffee shop and transferred to a college closer to home.

you have today off and planned on spending it relaxing and doing nothing, but jaemin seems to have other plans.

he takes one look at you curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you and a book in your lap and shakes his head. "you have the whole day off and you're just going to spend it on the couch?"

you shrug, not even looking up from your book. "yeah."

he walks over and flops down on the couch, snatching the book out of your hands and putting it on the coffee table so it's out of reach. "is jeno coming over today?"

you nod. "after he gets off work."

jaemin hums in response, leaning his head back against the couch and staring at the ceiling. "i need to talk to him."

you're surprised that he's actually talking about speaking to jeno. "i'm glad that you finally want to talk to him, but please be nice about it."

"i will. don't worry."

-

the hours pass slowly. you spend the afternoon half dreading and half anticipating the inevitable conversation between jaemin and jeno.

you hear the door open and walk out of the kitchen as jeno shuts the door.

"hey."

"hey, how was work?" you ask as he pulls you into a hug.

"surprisingly, not that bad. you seem tense, everything okay?"

"yeah, i'm fine." you reply, looking up at him.

he moves his hands from your hips to cup your face, studying your expression. "you sure? you seem like something's on your mind."

you let out a heavy sigh. "jae wants to talk to you."

"okay, it'll be fine. is he in his room?" he asks, letting go of your face.

"no, he's in the living room."

"alright, i'll go talk to him." he says, giving you a reassuring smile before making his way to the living room.

you stay in the entryway, wanting to give the two of them space to talk but also secretly hoping to hear as much as you can.

"hey, man," jeno starts. "y/n said you wanted to talk to me?"

jaemin nods, locking his phone and dropping it into his lap. "yeah, i do," he replies, and motions for jeno to sit down.

jeno sits down and jaemin takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "i've had a lot of time to think about everything that happened. the way i reacted… it wasn't right. i let my emotions get the best of me, and i'm really sorry for that."

"i understand, jaemin. i get why you were upset. it was a lot to take in all at once."

jaemin shakes his head. "but that's no excuse."

it's quiet for a couple seconds before jaemin speaks again. "i have a question and i know you two aren't together, but what are your intentions with her? like, how serious are you about her?"

jeno stiffens, not expecting the question to be brought up so soon in the conversation. "i'm serious about her. honestly, probably more than i've been about anything or anyone in my entire life, dude. i love her."

"you love her?" jaemin asks, his voice betraying a hint of disbelief. he's known jeno for years and has never once heard him say he loved a girl.

"yes. i love her."

jaemin shakes his head. "never did i think i would ever hear you say you loved a girl."

"yeah, neither did i. but she's different. she's… everything."

"you sound like a love-sick puppy, dude." jaemin teases.

jeno rolls his eyes. "shut up, it's called being in love but you wouldn't know."

"pfft, whatever." jaemin mutters, his tone still mocking. "if you love her, why haven't you asked her out yet?"

jeno's expression falters. "i just haven't found the right time yet."

"the right time? jeno, come on. you guys have been seeing each other off and on for five years now."

"i know, i know. but things have been so complicated lately. with her transferring schools, starting a job, and everything with the baby… i don't want to add more pressure."

"you think asking her to be your girlfriend would be adding more pressure? dude, she's carrying your child. she deserves some kind of stability."

jeno fidgets nervously with his fingers. "i know she does. but i can't shake the feeling that if i ask her to be my girlfriend now, it'll seem like i'm only doing it because she's pregnant."

"do you honestly think she would see it like that?"

"i don't know. we talked before we found out she was pregnant, and we both confessed our feelings for each other but like a dumbass i fucked it up."

"how'd you fuck it up?"

"i freaked out and ghosted her for a month. i never loved a girl before, and i was in shock."

jaemin snorts. "you're such an idiot. plan a little date night, ask her out and if it makes you feel better reassure her that you are asking her out because you genuinely love her and not because you got her pregnant."

"you're right. i need to stop making stupid excuses and just man up and ask her." jeno sighs, running a hand through his hair. "but what if she says no?"

"she's not going to say no, jeno. she loves you just as much as you love her, if not more. just go talk to her. and hey," he adds, a bit more serious, "whatever happens, i'm here for both of you."

jeno stands up and glances towards the entryway, expecting to see you eavesdropping but you quickly make your way into the kitchen before he can see you. "thanks man."

he walks into the kitchen a couple seconds later and you look over at him. "everything okay?"

"yeah, everything's fine," he reassures you. "do you want to go for a drive? get out of the house for a bit?"

you nod and follow him outside to his car.

the drive starts in comfortable silence, but after a few minutes you decide to break it. "where are we going?"

"just a little place i go to when i want to escape for a little bit. you'll like it," he says with a small smile.

after about twenty minutes, jeno parks in front of a lake. the two of you get out and he takes your hand, leading you to one of the benches.

"i used to come here a lot when i needed to think," jeno says, glancing over at you. "it always helped me clear my mind."

"it's beautiful," you reply, taking a seat on the bench.

"yeah, it is. i figured it would be a good place for us to talk." he sits down next to you. "i know things have been really complicated lately, with everything going on. but there's something that i need to tell you."

you nod and he takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"i love you. more than i've ever loved anyone in my life. and i know i've made mistakes, and that things aren't exactly ideal right now, but i want to be with you, officially. not because of the baby, but because you're everything to me."

"i want that too," you tell him, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to escape.

"so, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

"yes, jeno. i will."

chapter six |  chapter eight 

---------

taglist:

@nosungluv @icesscoups @sunghoonsgfreal @camosh @vltevgrdn @minkyuncutie @neobowlingshoez @luvjoongz @llallisa653 @shqqna @dojaejunging @nanaleehyuck @zolpidream @ch3rrych3s @gusgus0517 @1800-love-me @itsblueberry @cherryxvalentine @luvlyjaemin

[theemporium]

Hi can you please write 136 and 131 with Daniel ricciardo from the smut list ? I miss him so muchh 😭

131. “oh don’t mind me I’m just enjoying the view”

136. “don’t cover your face, i want to see you”

.

The whole world was shocked when Daniel Ricciardo rocked up to the first race of the season with his girl on his arm. 

There had been hints and whispers of the Australian being in a relationship, but it had never been confirmed by the driver. He teased and he joked and he would have his fun, but he never gave a definitive answer on the question until now. 

The action was bold and proud and so very Daniel, all things considered. He wanted nothing more than to show the world who his girl was. He wanted to scream it to the world—or even to anyone who would just listen. 

You, on the other hand, were the opposite of the Australian driver. 

He thrived in the spotlight, you preferred hiding off to the side. He always had a bright smile on his face, you were glaring at whatever annoyance was bothering you nearby. He loved to make people laugh, and you truly didn’t care about most of the people around you. 

Opposites attract was a phase known by many but they never once expected their sunshine driver to be the one involved with it. 

But Daniel loved that about you. 

He loved that despite everything you still showed up to race weekends to support him. He loved that you didn’t care what people said and had no issue putting people in their place when PR had his hands tied. He loved that you were so unapologetically you. 

And he fucking loved reminding you of such. 

“My pretty girl,” he cooed in a low voice, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs as he took in the sight of you. 

“Danny,” you whined, your hands reaching to hold him and the boy had no issue in taking one of your hands, intertwining your fingers before pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Shh, patience baby,” he murmured as his eyes glazed over with an emotion you knew all too well. “Gimme a sec.” 

Your chest was heaving, soft pants of anticipation escaping your lips. “What are you doing?” 

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” Daniel said with a cheesy grin on his face as his gaze caught yours, the same look on his face that he got after he won a race. “Love seeing you like this, all fucked up and desperate for my cock.” 

“Shut up,” you grumbled under your breath, moving to pull your hand away from him but the boy held on tight. 

“Don’t cover your face, I want to see you,” he hummed as he kneeled on the bed, letting his eyes wander over every inch of naked skin left on display to him, the flushed cheeks and the messy hair. 

He had been on a high after the last race weekend, the three wins in a row making him cockier and more arrogant than usual and you weren’t complaining—and definitely not when he had his face between your legs until your body was shaking and withering beneath him. 

“Danny, please,” you whined, and it was a little pathetic and if anyone else saw you, they wouldn’t fucking believe it was you. But no one else would see you liked this—nobody but him.

“My pretty girl needs more, hm? Two not enough for you?” he teased, a hint of a mocking tone to his voice and it made you want to clench your thighs together. But before you even think of doing so, both large hands were splayed against your thighs and holding your legs open. “Nuh uh, baby, keep ‘em open for me.”

Your hooded eyes watched as he laid between your legs, arms hooking around your legs to keep you where he wanted you and his lips softly kissing up your thighs. 

“You’re in luck, baby,” he murmured, warm breath fanning over your soaking cunt. “Three is my favourite number.”

.

[chuplayswithfire]

Izzy Arc Thoughts, the post!

Having now watched the three episodes three times over (some of them more than that shhhhh), I still have a BUNCH of thoughts about the rest of the crew I want to percolate on, but I had some thoughts on Izzy that I finally feel confident in, as to what's going on in with his character since the end of season 1, and especially the arc he has between Impossible Birds and The Innkeeper.

Being upfront: I wasn't sure what kind of arc the show would do with Izzy and we still obviously don't know the full scope of it, as we have five more episodes to go, but it's definitely been intriguing in a way I didn't anticipate. I figured Izzy would continue on with his antagonistic role, and he still might, but it seems like D Jenks is having fun letting Con have a role with more emotional nuance than in season one, and seeing as that role has an impact on everyone else, I wanted to share my thoughts on what I think is going on with him in the episodes that we've seen so far. I also wanted to start my in depth analysis with a character I don't care about nearly as much (being honest!) as I do the rest of the crew, but who also has a huge impact on two characters I do care very much about, Ed and Stede. I'm planning to analyze Ed and Stede in each episode before we get eps 4 and 5!

This is a long post! It features many quotes directly , transcribed by me and taken from the captions by Max. I used a read more because the whole thing is over 6k in length and analyzes the dynamic presented between Izzy and Ed and Izzy and Stede presented in episodes 1-3 of season 2 of Our Flag Means Death. If the read more doesn't work, that is not on me, sorry.

Alright, so recap: when we left Izzy, he had lashed out at Ed for the person he was choosing to become and the manner in which he was expressing himself and his feelings - the blanket fort, the binging sweets, the singing for the crew, the sharing his feelings and asking to be called Edward, the encouraging a talent show, and then, the cleaning up and comfortably wearing a colorful printed robe of nice, soft fabric. (Quotes: "I should have let the English kill you. This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death." "(growled) No. This, this is Blackbeard. Not some (breath) namby-pamby in a silk gown, pining for his boyfriend.”) When these insults get the aggressive reaction from Ed that Izzy associates with the version of Ed he prefers, he encourages him with a smile, hand cupping Ed's cheek, and choking out "There he is." Ed shoves his hand away, backing away with a closed off expression, and Izzy's smile dies and he closes the distance between them. He states what he wants from Ed, makes a threat, and walks away without waiting for a response. (Quote: "Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard. Not Edward. Edward better watch his fuckin' step.”)

The next time we see Izzy, Ed has donned his leathers, made his face up with dark make up to look more fierce, and is cutting off Izzy's pink toe and feeding it to him. We know from episode 9 that cutting off toes and feeding it to people was a classic Blackbeard move. For Izzy, this is several things: 1) confirmation that Blackbeard is back, the one who would never let a threat stand and does a good maim 2) a punishment for said threat (Quote: "Threaten me again, ever... I'll feed you the rest. Understand?" "Y-Yes, Blackbeard.") 3) a confirmation that he has his boss back, that whatever Stede has done to his boss' brain is over.

We get confirmation of that third point when Izzy speaks with the crew as they're getting rid of Stede's books and possessions - "Blackbeard is himself again," with a broad smile. Later, we see Izzy abandon the crew on a small island, presumably on Ed's direct orders, as he waves goodbye to Bonnet's playthings - them - as they depart. Izzy has a gun as he stands beside Ed, and they're watching as Frenchie finishes the new flag and hoists it.

That's where we left Izzy in Season 1: standing besides Ed as Blackbird returns to being Blackbeard for a brand new era of being Blackbeard, greatest pirate who ever lived, terror of the seas.

And when we return to the show, that's kind of what we get. Edward is being Blackbeard and Blackbeard is the terror of the seas, a Wanted Poster with so many crimes they're covering both sides of the poster (and yeah some of them are very silly, what midwifery was Ed up to, exactly-), and yet, Izzy is not happy when we see him.

What I think the show works to establish in episode 1 is that what Izzy wanted back was the man he saw as the old Blackbeard, who wasn't afflicted by these feelings of love or softness or "weakness", which he views as something that Stede Bonnet inflicted upon Edward. We know that, because it's how he phrased it to Chauncey - that "[Stede] had done something to [his] boss's brain". He seemed to view these feelings as something akin to an infection from Stede, that was corrupting the Blackbeard he knew and respected to something less than. Izzy wanted the old Blackbeard back and he thought that when Ed took his toe and fed it to him, said he'd killed Lucius, all that I recapped, that he'd gotten just that. A return to his preferred normal, where everything makes sense exactly as he thinks it should. Ed back to normal, it's Blackbeard time, getting rid of the dead weight and all that.

Except that's not what he's gotten at all, and I don't think Izzy had fully grasped why prior to episode 1. He has suspicions, of course, but it takes him a while to build to a confrontation about it.

Because see, Ed switched from healthier coping mechanisms like crying, eating sweets, creative outlets, and talking to people about his feelings to much more acceptably pirate means of coping with his feelings - violence in the form of raids and drugs (rhino horn, which thought people joke about it being an aphrodisiac, has a variety of believed medical uses in Vietnamese medicine, treating ailments including hangovers, fever, gout and potentially terminal illnesses, like cancer or stroke). Raids and drug use should be totally acceptable means of managing your feelings as a pirate, except that Ed is going too far with them, pushing the crew to the breaking point and beyond. They're raiding every day, they're not taking breaks, they're not having days off, they're chasing down ships as fast as they can take them down and now they're going to be throwing away loot. Izzy is realizing that actually he has not gotten the Blackbeard he wanted and things are not great. He's also lost at least two more toes.

He and Ed have an early exchange - Izzy looking sickly, skin sallow, what appears to be hair dye or make up trickling from his hairline, Ed prepping and snorting rhino horn like it's cocaine:

Izzy: "The crew are lookin' a tad worse for wear.” Ed: "Did everyone get cake?" Izzy: "Yeah, they got cake." Ed: "Well they're, they're welcome to have some rhino horn. Just ground up a fresh batch." (snorts rhino horn) "Oh fuck! You want some?" Izzy: "No, not right now, no." Ed: "Well then, get back to work ya fuckin' lightweight!" [cut to Izzy among the crew] Ed voiceover: "Can't do the job, someone else will."

Throughout this scene, Izzy looks increasingly distressed as Ed does drugs - he looks his most distressed during the voice over however, his jaw flexing, his eyes watery.

This is what appears to have shaken him the most - the idea that he's replaceable, that Ed can and would get rid of him in favor of someone else. It's obviously incredibly distressing to Izzy, in a way that I genuinely don't think the loss of his toes was. Izzy clearly values his relationship with Edward - while in season 1 he definitely wanted a promotion and liked the idea of authority, of being captain, the fact that he was swiftly mutinied and nearly murdered seemed to put a kabosh on his ambitions, and reoriented him to staying at Ed's side. We know that Izzy at least believes that loyalty is important - we know that he thinks he's acting from loyalty when he tries to make Ed watch as his boyfriend (in Izzy's words) is murdered.

Izzy values his position with Blackbeard. He serves Blackbeard, respects him, was honored to work for a legend. And while this is supposition, he seems to have considered himself and Edward as having a close, intimate relationship that did not require words or confessions or honest expression of feeling, this kind of bond where words aren't necessary, because they're tough, manly men who don't need to express their feelings.

But.

Then we get this line. Then we get, "can't do the job, someone else will." Seven words, and they shake Izzy to his core, make him finally start questioning his until then unquestioned belief in the ways of the world and his relationship with Edward. It shakes him enough that he actually breaks in front of the crew, in a scene that's incredibly funny, but also leads to them extending him some genuinely unearned compassion, as they question the healthiness of his relationship with Blackbeard - even as Izzy is finally questioning if he has a relationship with Blackbeard.

Following his breakdown, Izzy has the crew bring the treasure above deck, but doesn't go through with making them throw it overboard. Instead, he takes those new doubts and brings them to Ed, pushing for a conversation where he is clearly for the first time in their working relationship expressing his thoughts on said relationship in word form.

Izzy: "The crew are refusing to part with any treasure." Ed: "Why?" Izzy: "Because it's fuckin' treasure." Ed: "Not good enough. (stops toying with knife, slides it in Izzy's direction.) And that's another toe. Take your boot off." (stands from seated position, walks over to Izzy.) Izzy: (starts by looking down at the ground, then slowly raises gaze to Ed's face as he speaks.) "Who am I to you?" Ed: “...What?” Izzy: “We’ve worked together for years. (sniff) You know me better than anyone has ever known me, and I daresay the same is true for me about you.” (a musical beat plays. Izzy lowers his eyes from Ed’s face, looking in the middle distance.) Izzy: I have (several second long pause) love for you, Edward.” Ed: (starting as Izzy is speaking, right after the word love) “Oh, come on.” (walks away from Izzy, circling around him.) Izzy: I’m worried about you. We all are. The atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned.” (pause) “But if we could all just maybe (pause, swallow, visibly struggling with words) talk it through.” (musical beat) Ed: (slowly looks up) “As a crew?” Izzy: (face falls subtly, taking on a starker look of upset)

The scene transitions away, but let’s really dig into all of this for a second, because this is crucial. This is Izzy going from matters between us are unspoken but profound to I have doubts and I am verbalizing my thoughts in the hope that they will be assuaged. Izzy is expressing aloud his thoughts on their relationship for the first time, because as Izzy puts it, he thought he knew Edward better than anyone. He thought he understood him better than anyone else alive. Now, we know that Izzy doesn’t understand Edward already - we’ve known that he doesn’t actually see the person Edward all along, but this was made especially clear in episode 6, where his voiceover notes that he is “starting to suspect that Edward has no intention of ending Stede Bonnet’s life”, at a point in time when Ivan and Fang are confident the plan is off and everyone else seems pretty clear there’s a co-captaining effect going on.

The point is that all this time, Izzy has been acting from a place of assuming he knows Edward best of anyone in the world, that he understands him, that he can follow what’s going on with him and that they are intimately bound together, in this deep and unspoken love for each other that doesn’t have to be said allowed, but only has to exist, unacknowledged but deeply felt. 

But then Ed said that he could be replaced. Then Ed said that he could find someone else to do Izzy’s job. 

And this introduced doubt into Izzy’s mind, for the first time. This is what made Izzy verbalize all these things - what made him ask who he is to Ed, what made him state that he has love for Ed, that he worries for Ed, that he and Ed understand each other better than anyone else… because now he has to say them aloud, because he has to be reassured that these things are true. 

That he is someone important to Ed. That Ed has love for Izzy and knows that Izzy has love for Ed. That Ed understands Izzy, that Ed knows that Izzy understands Ed. For years, he has thought that he and Ed understood each other in this profound way, that they alone truly knew the other, and he has to question if that’s true. 

He’s being vulnerable, in a way vaguely akin to the vulnerability Ed offered in episode 10, and it clearly doesn’t land. He wants reassurance that this deep and profound love and intimacy he was so sure was there, is real, and Ed can’t give him that reassurance because it’s not true. Not in the way Izzy was so sure it was. Not in the way he ruined Ed’s life to believe. 

Izzy finally decides to put himself out there, and all that Ed gets out of it is the echo of Stede Bonnet, and it makes Izzy’s face fall like a rock. There’s the answer he didn’t want: the relationship he believed he had with Ed is not there, and Ed is still, utterly, truly, fixed in his feelings for Stede Bonnet. 

(and like just to clarify, I really don’t feel bad for Izzy here - he doesn’t have the relationship he wants with Ed because he’s never tried to really understand Ed, or listen to him, and he isn’t what Ed wants in a partner, but, objectively, Izzy does make himself vulnerable here, and he’s shot down, because Ed just doesn’t return his feelings)

Which leads us into the continuing scene. Ed goes to confront the crew about the atmosphere of the ship being poisoned, which everyone denies at gun point, leading Ed to shoving the gun under his chin and having a little conversation with himself, unsettling everyone around. 

Ed: “I know who we should ask, ol’ Blackbeard. Hello mate. You think the vibe on the ship is poisoned? I don’t know, Blackbeard. Maybe a little toxic sometimes. Maybe it’s a bit uncomfortable sometimes. You do make the crew a little bit uncomfortable sometimes. They think you’re crazy. Well, I’m not crazy. I don’t feel crazy. I feel pretty fucking good actually.” (the camera is focusing on the faces of all the crew as he gives this monologue, gun still cocked under his chin.) Izzy: “Fucking End!” (Screamed at Ed’s back) Ed: (slowly turns to Izzy.) Crew: (Fang looking shocked and saddened. Frenchie shakes his head very minutely, looking at Izzy.) Izzy: “The atmosphere on this ship is (word drawn out) fucked.” (working his jaw, looking down and to the side as he says this.) “Everyone knows why.” Ed: (nods once, sets his chin, walks forward.) “Well I don’t. Enlighten me.” Izzy: (smiling with mouth shut, suppressing a laugh. Shrugs.) Your feelings for Stede fuckin’ Bonnet.” Ed: (Nods as soon as Izzy says Stede’s name. Shoots him in the leg.) Izzy: (cries out in pain drops, clutching his knee.) Ed: “Frenchie.” Frenchie: “Yes?” Ed: “Congratulations, you are now first mate.” Frenchie: “Oh, no. I don’t, I don’t  think I’m qualified.” Ed: “‘course you are mate. You can start by cleaning up that mess.” (tilts head towards Izzy. Turns to rest of crew, onlooking.) “And the rest of you, you throw this shit overboard and get suited up.” (claps twice, turns away.) “We’ve got a record to break.” Izzy: (still groaning in pain.)

So that was a lot. 

Izzy has realized, over the course of this episode, that his relationship with Ed is not what he thought it was, is not what he wants it to be, and that Ed is still and probably always will be, in love with Stede fuckin’ Bonnet. This is why Izzy decides to say what he believes to be true - that the atmosphere is fucked because of Ed’s feelings for Stede. It’s important that we know this is not actually true - while Ed being ghosted by Stede did start his spiral, Ed was able to stop that spiral with the help of community and reaching for healthy coping mechanisms. Ed spiraled again after Izzy intervened, insulting, threatening, and demeaning him as discussed in the recap, and the spiral isn’t about his romantic feelings - it’s about, as s2e3 The Innkeeper firmly establishes, his feeling fundamentally unloveable and monstrous. Throughout s2e1, Ed is clearly denying the crew days off and meaningful rest out of pursuit of as many raids as possible. He’s trying not to touch the ground, flying high both via drugs and adrenaline, and his exchange with Frenchie at the end of the impossible makes it clear he doesn’t want to stop. 

It’s also very important, that throughout this entire thing, the only crew member Ed actually hurts is Izzy, who doesn’t actually object to losing his toes. Now, I’m on record for being one of the many people who think Izzy is actually glad that the toe scene happens - I don’t think he actually especially wanted to lose his toes, but, he was glad to get back the Blackbeard who would cut off toes, and I do think he felt there was a certain intimacy in being the only one experiencing violence. Izzy is a masochist and has previously expressed delight in being the subject of violence - was very happy to be choked by Ed in s1ep10 - so while this is not safe or sane, I do think it’s consensual, in the sense that Izzy thinks this is part of their mutual love, their unspoken but deep and crucially intimate togetherness that leads them to know each other on the deepest level. 

And then Ed says he can be replaced. And then Ed makes it clear that even when Izzy is emotionally vulnerable, Ed’s heart is with Stede. And Izzy realizes, he doesn’t have that place with Edward that he thought he did. He doesn’t have that special relationship. This is not intimacy, for Ed. And Ed shooting him and turning away isn’t even the final nail in that door. 

Because, in s2e2, Izzy is still alive. The crew has hidden him in the walls and are trying to preserve his life, even as Izzy screams for them to kill him and calls them cowards for not doing so. The crew is gathering medicine, preparing an amputation, figuring out what to do with Izzy to try and keep him alive, and Izzy wants them to kill him. (Quote: “Kill me you fucking cowards! Kill me -”)

I would say it’s because he’s realized the relationship he devoted his life too and considered sacred, the relationship he considers most valuable… is not that to the man he loves. Ed replaced him and pirate code says the first mate should kill him. The first mate (Frenchie) refuses to kill him. Frenchie is not much for that, and neither is JIm. Both of them, having experienced a better life and place of work when Stede was captain and Ed was their co-captain, are trying to preserve Izzy’s life the best they can. Jim especially clings to the memory of when life meant something on this ship, even Izzy’s life. 

Which - this makes sense coming from Jim, and I think it’s why they chose Jim, because Jim wasn’t present for Izzy being captain or the mutiny. Jim has the least complicated relationship with Izzy aside from Fang, who is notably not present in any of the scenes to do with rescuing Izzy, despite having been clearly shocked and appalled that Izzy was shot. 

Izzy, is not thrilled to be being kept alive, but the fact that Izzy is kept alive, means that Izzy has to process his feelings - and face Ed again, who, having shot Izzy, mourned and sobbed, has woken up, cleaned himself up, cleaned his space out, and decided to seek death. 

From Izzy. 

This, I think, is the second most crucial moment in Izzy’s arc and transition, because Izzy thought he was someone of incredible importance to Ed, and he also thought that he knew and understood Ed better than anyone, and that Ed crucially, understood him just as well. He thought that even without any emotional honesty or vulnerability, they knew each other more than anyone else possibly could. 

He thinks that Ed knows him. 

And Ed comes to him, and they have the following exchange:

Ed: “Morning.” Izzy: “My leg?” (looking down his body.) Ed: (laughing) “Yeah. Oh, no, that’s gone now. Up in Leg Heaven.” (sets the smelling salts down, turns to look down at Izzy.) Izzy: (looks up at Ed.) “Have you come to take the other one?” Ed: “I think one’s quite enough. I just popped down to say a proper goodbye.” (reaches behind him, draws gun. Izzy: (watches the gun, looks down from Ed’s face to gun and back as Ed cocks and loads it.) Ed: (looking at the gun, not Izzy.) “Had a dream about you last night.” (flips gun to offer the handle to Izzy.) “Take it.” Izzy: “Oh, fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off.” (slaps at Ed’s hand, looking away from Ed.) Ed: “Hold it! Hold it.” (they are speaking over each other. Gets the gun in Izzy’s hand, directs it at Ed’s head. Looking at Izzy.) “I dreamt that ya killed me. Shot me right through the skull.” (moving the gun and Izzy’s hand, drawing it to his forehead, leaning closer. The camera moves between Ed’s face and Izzy’s.) Izzy: (smiles slowly then sneers.) “Good for you.” Ed: (blinks and nods slowly.) “It was good for me. It’s just what the doctor ordered.” (The camera moves from Ed’s face to Izzy’s showing him with that frown as Ed stands over him, leaving the gun in Izzy’s hand.) “Anyway, it wasn’t even like that.” (walks away from Izzy.) Izzy: (eyes tracking Ed as he walks away.) Ed: “Not in my dream.” (moves to stand at the foot of Izzy’s bed, back to Izzy.) “I was standing.” (inhales). “Just like this.” (Closes eyes. Spreads arms.) Izzy: (from his view, Ed is standing against the light, back open, arms spread. He blinks and raises the gun audibly.) Ed: (Swallows, holding his arms out.) Izzy: (smiles, sniffs audibly, dropping the smile as he clenches his teeth. Laughs harshly, mockingly, gun raised.) “Ohhhhh, ah, you scared, Eddie? Too scared - too scared to do it yourself? Ay.” (laughs) “Go on, clean up your own fucking mess. I’m not doin’ it. I’ve been doin’ it all my fucking life.” Ed: (looks down, disappointed. blinks.) Izzy: Fuck off. Ed: (nods, swallows.) “Farewell, old chum.” (whispered. He walks up the stairs and away from Izzy.) Izzy: (watches, shaking, nodding slowly himself, breath hitching.) Ed: (reaches the top of the stairs. A gunshot sounds. A creak. Ed lowers his eyes, looking down at something off camera. Nods. Exhales.) “I loved you” (a pause) “best I could.” The scene transitions from there, and the next we see of Ed, he is initiating plan two of suicide attempts: steering the ship into a storm and goading the ship to kill him or die with him.

But Ed’s deal is so many more posts from here. No, we’re focused on Izzy for the moment, so what did this whole exchange mean for him?

First, the thought that Ed had come to do more damage. That Ed was there for Izzy, that this was about Izzy. But it’s not. Ed has had enough of that. He notably does not apologize. Izzy notably does not seem to expect one. There is history here, and the last time they were in positions like this, the camera angle was flipped - Ed at Izzy’s right, a hand covering Izzy’s mouth, making him eat his toe and the idea that things could go as they had been, that the Blackbeard Izzy had schemed and tried to have a man killed over was back. This time, Ed is at Izzy’s left, with a gun, and he doesn’t touch Izzy except to hand over the gun.

This is where it’s so important that Izzy believed he and Ed knew each other best of all. Because in episode one, Izzy was getting worried for Ed, but it’s in episode 2, in this moment, as Ed hands him a gun, that he realizes Ed wants to die. And it’s in this moment that he realizes that Ed fully believes Izzy could. That Ed has taken these actions believing that they would lead Izzy to kill him. That Ed wants to commit suicide via Izzy, that he thinks killing Ed is something that Izzy wants, could want, could do. 

This is Izzy, realizing that he and Ed don’t understand each other nearly as well as he thought. This is Izzy, realizing that Ed looks at him and sees a man who could and would kill him, when Izzy thinks that he couldn’t ever do that. This is Izzy, having the true final death knell on that relationship he believed they had, the intimacy he believed they had, the lack of a need for words. He thought all this time that he knew Ed best and that Ed knew him, and he doesn’t want to kill Ed - and he’s also hurt and angry and upset to know Ed genuinely thought he would. That Ed would come to him for this, because Izzy doesn’t think he could kill Ed, but Ed thinks he could. 

In his mind, Ed should know that Izzy could never kill him, should trust him, should know without having to be told that it would never happen, but here’s Ed in the flesh, asking him to kill him. 

It’s over, everything he thought was there. 

And Ed? Ed did care about Izzy, in his own way, but every overture he made was denied, shot down, Izzy not interested in the bird guy, the ship, the clouds and how they contribute to a plan, the drugs, and like, Izzy is allowed to not be interested in any of those things - but these are the things Ed was interested in. These are the ways Ed tried to connect most recently, and Izzy shot them all down. To Izzy, there was a deep and intimate connection in spite of all of that. To Ed, every way he could connect with Izzy was shot down. He loved him the best he could, which wasn’t a way that could provide either of them what they wanted. Izzy had love for Ed, but that love could not be fruitful or nurturing to either of them, because it was unspoken and therefore ripe for misunderstanding. 

Izzy stews down there in the ship, in his own thoughts, while Ed steers the ship into a storm and makes his last effort to die, to have it all end - to push the crew to killing him, or dying with him. And then he ties his leg up, makes his way above deck, shoots Ed in the arm to keep him from killing them all, and tries to kill himself instead, staring at Ed as he tries to shoot himself with the gun Ed wanted Izzy to kill him with. Despite the gun being aimed for the temple, he fails and falls back, leaving himself staring up as it rains on him, hiding any tears. Fang brings Ed down, and the crew gather together, Fang supporting Izzy’s weight, as Jim lifts a cannonball with a scream and prepares to bring it down on Ed’s head. Izzy watches without interfering.

EDIT: ADDED THIS SECTION:

A quick addendum: even though I watched episode 2 so many times, I didn't realize that Izzy tried to kill himself after Ed left the room! The gunshot that Ed hears is in fact Izzy trying and failing to shoot himself right then and there, in that moment that Ed departs. Izzy's forehead was so wet and the background of him falling back and water splashing was such that I truly thought that took place in the rain, and that he tried to shoot himself after shooting Ed. Thanks to @glamaphonic for letting me know. This does leave me even more certain that Izzy is motivated to do this because he has finally understood both that Edward wants to die, and that he and Edward never understood each other as well as he thought, which brings the last years of his life into question. He tried to kill himself, failed, and came up to stop Ed from bringing down the ship. It's not just that Izzy stews down there - as Ed departs, leaving Izzy behind, Izzy takes the shot. He tries and fails to kill himself, and wakes and climbs the steps to take the shot at Ed he couldn't before.

The next time we see Izzy is s1e3, The Innkeeper, when Stede crosses over to the Revenge and finds the crew amidst the wreckage. He’s eating a raw bird with the rest of the crew, and then is brought aboard the Red Flag. As Stede asks the crew about Ed’s location, Izzy watches him. He’s the only one not eating soup, hands tucked over his chest. 

As Stede starts asking questions - dangerous questions for Izzy and the former crew of the Revenge - he walks over with a crutch. 

Izzy: “Bonnet. Good to see you.” Stede: “Piss off, Izzy. I don’t wanna hear from you.”

Stede talks to the rest of the crew, as Izzy grimaces. Stede pays him no attention. The next time Izzy speaks up: Stede: “What about my painting? Why is it all stabbed up?” Izzy: (looking up through his hair, smiling.) “That was me.” Stede: (sighs and walks away without response.) Izzy: (blinks slowly, looking dismayed. We see him start to turn his head in Stede’s direction.)

Well, that seemed like someone trying to pick a fight, and disappointed he didn’t get one, too me. In Izzy’s mind, Stede is his romantic rival, the man Ed loves where he didn’t love Izzy, and, currently, also a threat, because if he keeps asking questions and reveals the mutiny, they’ll all be killed. 

But Stede is one more thing. Stede is another dagger in Izzy’s heart, as we continue transcribing:

Izzy: “Don’t cry Bonnet. We just redecorated.” (has clearly been following Stede.) Stede: “I don’t mind, actually. I think the knives really help bring the place together.” (calmly stated before he walks away to look at the rest of the furniture.) Izzy: (drops his head, looking away as though trying to gather words.) Stede: (turns to look at Izzy.) “What’d you do with him? I know he wouldn’t have left by choice.” Izzy: (sniffles) I know you think you understand him. Stede: (interrupting) “He was either gonna watch the world burn or die trying, so which was it?” (leaning forward despite the considerable distance, still calm.) Izzy: (swallows, dips head. Starts moving forward, gritting teeth through words.) “Alright Bonnet. Have it your own way.” (stalking forward to Stede on his crutch.) “He went mad. He tortured the crew. He took my fuckin’ leg ‘cause I dared to mention your fuckin’ name.” (emphasis on the curses, slams fist when he says your name.) Stede: (in drawn breath, turns away) Izzy: “He was a wild dog, and we dealt with him like one.” Stede: “You sent him to Doggy Heaven.” Izzy: (stares in silence, head shaking. Flashes back to Ed laying in the rain, breathing out “Finally,” and laughing as Jim brings a cannonball down on him as Izzy watches. Stares. Turns to look away from Stede, face twisting. Shakes his head. Shuts his eyes. Breathes the word:) “No.” Stede: (turns to look back at him.) Izzy: “I could never do that.” (looks away, still not looking Stede in the face). “We deserved him on a beach (sniffles) left nature to do the rest. More than he would have done for us.” Stede: (turns away, breathing out.) Izzy: (continuing) “You and me did this to him. And we cannot let this crew suffer anymore for our mistakes.” Stede: (turns to look at Izzy) “Why would they suffer?” Izzy: “If your captain senses mutiny, she’ll kill us all. That’s pirate code.” Stede: (camera lingers on his face as he swallows.)

Doggy Heaven has a heavy meaning in this series, considering that Ed was supposed to send Stede to Doggy Heaven, and couldn’t because of his love for Stede. Ed couldn’t bring himself to kill Stede, but here is Stede, who Izzy views as a romantic rival, guessing that Izzy could kill Ed. Acknowledging that he, like Ed, believes that Izzy could kill Ed. Izzy, who thinks he couldn’t and wouldn’t and has love for Ed, and sees himself as loyal. 

But Izzy did stand back as Ed was killed, and that’s why he reaches for dehumanizing language to defend the action - he calls Ed a wild dog and that they dealt with him like one. 

(It’s the first time in the show that a white character makes a racist remark without immediate consequences. Before anyway says otherwise, yes it is always racist for white people to dehumanize a man of color. It is always racist to say a person of color is or was an animal or liken them to being an animal. He could have said that Ed was a danger to the crew in any number of ways but he reached for likening him to a creature less than human and yeah that’s a racist thing to do. I believe the show did not follow through with consequences for this action because it’s clear that Izzy is STILL trying to pick a fight with Stede.)

The commonality in all of these scenes with Stede are twofold. One, Izzy is trying to distract Stede from the truth of the mutiny and what the crew did (and the fact that Ed is still aboard the Revenge, left for dead [or as Izzy put it, for nature to do the rest]). The second is that Izzy is trying and failing to pick a fight - failing, because Stede won’t take him up on it. At all. Stede is not engaging with Izzy at this point outside of the practical matter of seeking information, and that’s all he has to spare for Izzy - he’s already told him to piss off once, and that’s as much energy as he spends on it, but Izzy comes at Stede antagonistically more than once - three times, actually, and I think it’s because if he has a fight with Stede, and Stede says all the things he’s thinking, about how awful Izzy is, how he’s a traitor, how could he have hurt Ed, any of those things, then Izzy can fight about it, and he can justify it to himself, and he can ignore the thought from now on, because it’s the same thought that Stede fuckin’ Bonnet is having, and those thoughts are worthless.

But Stede doesn’t give him that. Stede doesn’t give him a fight at all. Stede walks away from Izzy again and again and again and in doing so does not grant Izzy an out, an out that can ONLY come from Stede, because no one else is going to disagree with the mutiny. 

Stede is the only one who could give him that fight, and Stede refuses. And Izzy continues to have to sit with his own thoughts and justifications and they clearly aren’t enough for him, because he’s continuing to push. 

Izzy is also trying to protect himself and the crew, here. It’s very much about that. He is trying to keep himself and them from dying by being caught out for mutiny, but I think it’s interesting that it’s only here that he tries to take accountability for what he said and did to Ed, and it’s in service of avoiding what he’s actually done. Izzy says that he and Stede did this to Ed - this that resulted in, as he says, Ed going mad and torturing the crew and having to be mutinied and abandoned on the beach. Izzy needs Stede to feel equally responsible - so that Stede will help protect the crew, but also because I think Izzy is feeling guilty and has been, because he could watch Ed die, and he could hurt Ed, and he didn’t think of himself as that person, but he is and was, and thinking that he caused all of this himself is too much. Better to give some of it to Stede, and help the crew out as well as himself. 

He had love for Ed, in his own way, and he thought they understood each other and had a partnership, but here’s Stede fuckin’ Bonnet, who only knew Ed for a matter of weeks, and understood him better than Izzy did and wouldn’t do the thing that Izzy did, and this is the final nail for Izzy, the thing he’s struggling with in this whole revelation that Ed didn’t have any romantic love for him, that there was no special intimate romance between them that didn’t need to be said or expressed or acknowledged with words or vulnerability to exist, because Stede takes one look at the situation and can summarize what happened. Stede knew that Ed would want to die, because you can’t actually burn the world down. You can say “burn the world or die trying”, but the only end result is dying trying. 

And Izzy, I genuinely don’t think, understood that Ed wanted to die. Not until Ed offered him the gun. Not until Ed spelled it out. Izzy knew that Ed was fucked up over his feelings, but I don’t think he understood where they were leading. 

But here’s Stede, and he did, and Izzy can’t take that, which is why once the truth is out and the mutineers are locked in the brig awaiting probable execution, Izzy tries to pick a fight one more time, even now that there’s nothing to distract Stede from. 

Izzy: (hears footsteps and turns his head.) Stede: (comes to the brig, staring through the bars at Izzy, then the rest of the crew.) Izzy: (smiles) “Go on Bonnet, give me your worst.” Crew: (looks up at Stede slowly.) Stede: (Looks at all of them, silent and not visibly angry, somber. Tilts his head down, eyes closed. Opens his eyes, shoves against the bars and turns and walks away without a word.) Izzy: (Drops the smile. Stares forward into the distance, eyes visibly wet with tears, blinks several times).

 So, clearly trying for a fight, wanting one, and continually being denied. Izzy is almost certainly grieving Ed, the relationship he thought they had, and also his leg, and Stede is the only other person here who would even possibly mourn Ed too, and Stede refuses to give him any response. Even when goaded, even knowing the truth, he has nothing to say to him. The next time Stede and Izzy are in the same room, Stede has concocted an escape plan, and doesn’t look at or speak to Izzy at all as he gives instructions and organizes the escape.

And when they have made it back to their ship, when they’re getting the wheel and rigging set for escape, they have a final conversation:

Izzy: (walks up behind Stede, who is watching the Red Flag.) “I just wanted to thank you for-” Stede: (walks away without letting him finish.) Izzy: (looks down, is left standing alone as live moves on the ship.)

Over the course of these three episodes, Izzy’s plot is realizing that he was fundamentally wrong about his relationship with Ed, his understanding of Ed as a person, and the depths of Ed’s feelings and despair. I think he’s also realizing that he was wrong about his relationship with Stede - he saw Stede as a romantic rival, and someone who hated him as much as he hates Stede, but given the opportunity to antagonize Izzy again and again, Stede refuses, because he doesn’t care about Izzy nearly enough. 

Izzy has misunderstood the nature of his relationship as it were with both of these men, who are, and always were, predominantly, chiefly, and only, interested in each other.