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#and then others i am the one running the show
usedpidemo · 1 day
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Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)
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The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 
Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.
At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.
And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.
—————
You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.
“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.
“Shoot.”
She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 
Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”
She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.
“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”
At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 
“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 
You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”
“No, Yuqi. Just go—”
“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”
You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.
“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.
“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.
“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”
Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?
“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”
“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.
You can only sigh in response before closing the door.
—————
Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.
“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”
“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 
You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”
“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”
And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.
“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.
She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”
“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”
Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.
“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”
Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.
“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”
“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.
You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”
“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”
To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.
You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 
This feels like your first day together all over again.
—————
The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 
When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 
“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 
“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.
“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 
“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.
You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 
“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 
“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”
“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Not even a little—”
“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 
You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 
The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.
Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.
—————
“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.
“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”
“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”
You’re not sure how to respond.
“Oof.” 
You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.
“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”
“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”
She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 
—————
“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.
Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.
“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.
“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”
“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 
“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”
“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.
“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”
—————
At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.
You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”
That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 
Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”
“Elaborate.” You laugh.
“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”
“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 
If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.
“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 
The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.
“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 
“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 
Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 
“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”
You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”
“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”
“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 
If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?
“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.
“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 
It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 
And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 
Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.
The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.
“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”
You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 
“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”
“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”
The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.
The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.
“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.
“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”
You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.
“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.
After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.
—————
The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.
In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.
It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.
Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.
To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 
“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”
“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.
“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”
“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”
“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”
So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.
“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”
Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 
“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”
“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 
Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 
Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 
You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.
“What do you mean?” You take another sip.
“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.
“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 
“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”
“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”
“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 
The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.
Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 
Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.
You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 
Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.
—————
Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:
> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi
Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.
Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 
So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.
You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.
“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”
“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”
A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”
You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”
“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”
“And what makes you say that?” 
“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”
“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”
Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.
That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.
Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”
“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.
She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”
Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 
Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.
Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 
The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 
There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.
“Fuck—oh fuck—”
You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.
“So—so—good—fuck yes—”
There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 
As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.
“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”
It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.
There’s no better opportunity than now.
With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 
Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.
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Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.
Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.
“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”
It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.
She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”
The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.
“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”
Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.
When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.
Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 
So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:
“Hey.”
Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:
“W-what time is it?”
Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.
She doesn’t.
“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”
She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.
Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 
“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 
“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”
Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.
Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.
Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 
“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”
You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 
Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”
“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”
“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”
“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”
“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”
And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.
You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 
It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.
And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 
“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.
Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.
You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 
Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—
Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”
The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 
And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.
You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 
“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”
“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”
You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.
It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.
And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.
“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”
The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.
It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.
Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.
And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.
“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.
“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 
“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”
Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.
And God, it fucking burns. 
You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 
She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 
You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.
There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.
—————
You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.
And it was.
It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”
This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.
Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.
“So, Yuqi.”
The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 
“About last night—”
Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 
“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”
“Sorry for what?”
You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.
Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”
You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.
“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”
“And that is?”
“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”
It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”
“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”
That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.
“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.
“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”
She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 
“I think I know exactly how.”
And that’s all that needed to be said.
Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.
All the more reason for you two to stay together.
—————
(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)
(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)
(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)
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vintageunknown · 3 days
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It is so interesting that Louis uses Armand's supposed birth name during the bench scene.
Naming is such a significant part of Armand's life, moreso than any character. His maker named him Amadeo, the cult named him Armand and his birth parents probably named him Arun. Unlike Louis and Lestat and all the other vampires we've seen, Armand's identity pre-vampirism is not concrete. His human life was marked by trauma and memory loss and even parts of his undead life. He tells Louis his story through 3rd person, as if regaling someone else's tale.
His identity is a fluid thing decided by whatever structure he finds himself in, hence the different names he is given at different stages. He portrays himself as someone who is seemingly powerless despite his ancient aura and terrifying powers.
"Who am I?" he asks Louis in the museum. His great comfort is by sticking to the Great Laws which he does not believe in and rituals he does not care about because they offer a comforting routine he can cling to. That is why he easily breaks his own rules when it comes to Louis, because their romance offers him another purpose.
When Louis asserts his presence in Paris, he tells Armand to let go of the coven. Once Santiago runs it to the ground, then Armand can return and decide if he wants to be coven leader or not.
Louis offers him something different: choice. No one ever gave Armand a choice. Everything that ever happens to him as been someone else deciding for him. This is new territory because the concept of free will is so unique to Armand. Even Lestat's shake-up was not a choice, but more of a coup—Armand knew Lestat breaking up the coven was inevitable the moment they met.
By calling him Arun, Louis shows Armand he is acknowledging the vulnerability offered to him. He's telling Armand that whoever you are, I will accept, even the most fragile and scariest pieces you hide from everyone else. And Armand says "Yes, Maitre," because for once, someone is really teaching him how to live. Not forcing or commanding, but teaching.
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f1fnatic · 3 days
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WELCOME TO MIAMI ⤿ l. sargeant 22
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→ ( in which. . . ) you are alex's little (half) sister. after inviting you as a guest to the miami grand prix, his teammate falls head over heels. part 1 of ?
→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) smau
→ ( face claim. . . ) momona tamada + pictures from pinterest/instagram
→ ( pairing. . . ) logan sargeant x fem!reader
→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) cursing, fluff, alex trying as a wingman
→ ( author's note. . . ) back again and with another smau! this is my play on he fell first/she fell harder. also, this is to set the plot, part 2 will explore the relationship! i hope you enjoy! see end for more
→ ( masterlist )
─ INSTAGRAM ↴
williamsracing
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liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, y/nalbonnn, oscarpiastri and 25,907 others
williamsracing hey siri, play welcome to miami by will smith 🎵😎🍹
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─ MESSAGES ↴ (y/n + alex)
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─ INSTAGRAM ↴
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alex_albon see you soon 🙈🙈
y/nalbonnn i cant believe you 🙄
alex_albon you're welcomeeee
lilymhe cant wait to see u !!
y/nalbonnn so excited <3 !!
user5 👀
yourbff i am in your luggage 🫢
─ MESSAGES ↴ (y/n + alex)
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alex_albon hehehe 😈
lilymhe surprise!!!! 🎊
y/nalbonnn you guys are so sneaky 🙁
logansargeant cant wait to meet you! y/nalbonnn reacted 💞 to this message
yourbff cant say im surprised
y/nalbonnn me either 🙄
y/nalbonnn
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liked by alex_albon, landonorris, lilymhe, yourbff, and 48,923 others
y/nalbonnn need a better tour guide :/
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alex_albon hey 🙁
y/nalbonnn i said what i said.
yourbff stunning!
y/nalbonnn all you babes!
landonorris slowly converting you to mclaren
alex_albon no she already spends enough time over there
user6 shes so pretty
user19 where did you get that shirt?
y/nalbonnn i thrifted it :) !
user65 hope you're having fun!
lilymhe you can run me over and i wouldn't be mad 🤷🏻‍♀️
y/nalbonnn GIRL RUN ME OVER
yourfriend1 pretty girl! liked by y/nalbonnn
georgerussell63 great seeing you again y/n! liked by y/nalbonnn
lilymhe you busy later ???
y/nalbonnn not anymore
alex_albon what the hell 📸😓
logansargeant i can show you around
y/nalbonnn that be nice
user51 mr america shooting his shot ???
user87 i think he took some lessons from mr lando norizz
landonorris i am way better at flirting than that
─ MESSAGES ↴ (alex + logan) (y/n + logan, alex)
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idk what is happening but another fic done! this one was super fun to make, i had a great time :D anyways, if you would like to be on the taglist, comment!!! requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)
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saeist · 1 day
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a/n: alternate universe where touya didn't go insane and goes to UA :] dedicated to the loml @saerins cus we're on our touya brainrot + went a little insane with this instead...
"jesus doll, excited now are we?" touya muses, a smirk on his lips as he lets you push him inside your small and cramped bathroom.
rolling your eyes, you motioned him to sit down on the toilet lid while you prepare the shower. making sure the water is just the right temperature or else you might burn touya's head off when you rinse the hairdye off his hair
"is this the part where you remove your shirt and i suck on a titty?" touya says more of a statement rather than a cheeky question. you stop yourself from hitting the boy that has his signature lopsided smirk with the shower head you were currently holding
with an exasperated sigh and a pinch to your nose bridge, you answer him
"just shut up for once, touya. besides, won't your dad kill you if he found out you're dying your hair black? or did you forget that he almost kicked you out of the house when he saw your piercings for the first time?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend who decided at the last minute to dye his hair as a sign of "rebellion against his "uptight, stick far up his ass dad" his words, not yours
"he can manage" touya huffs, scoffing at the memory of his dad yelling at him for acting and starting to look like a good for nothing delinquent or in endeavour's words, a villain. "it's not like it's my duty to keep our image of a "perfect family". if only the rest of the world knew what its like to have endeavor as your deadbeat dad!"
touya and endeavour never really got a long per say.. at least that's what touya tells you whenever he had a shit day training with endeavor. days where he would train with his dad were usually days where he'd opt to spend the night at your dorm. away from all the chaos inside the todoroki estate that he unfortunately refers to as his home
but to touya, at the end of the day, you are his home. his peace, his serenity, his anchor in this world where hell could break loose at any given moment
"don't give me that look, doll" touya sighs, shoulders dropping when he noticed you were staring at him.
"i just don't want to see you hurt all over again. you almost gave me a heart attack that one time when you showed up here unannounced" you pout, letting touya slowly wrap his arms around your waist.
touya’s arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. “i can handle the old man. it’s his problem if he can’t accept me for who i am,” he mutters, resting his forehead against your stomach
"i mean, he already stopped giving a shit when he realized i can't withstand my flames, so who am i to give a shit back after everything he did to me?" touya continues, his grip tightening
you run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the warmth of his presence. “shhh, we already talked about this" you shush him, "all i'm saying is that i just want you to be safe, touya. i can’t stand seeing you hurt,” you whisper, your voice tinged with worry.
he looks up at you, his usual smirk replaced with a rare, sincere expression. “i know, doll. i know." touya presses light kisses on your stomach, "but I have to be true to myself, even if it means pissing off endeavor” he chuckles, the pads of his thumb rubbing circles on your exposed skin
you both stay in that position in silence for a bit. just finding comfort with each other's presence. just the way touya likes it. nice and quiet. a contrast to his daily hellish life back at his own home
that is until touya starts to feel his scalp burn a little
"okay fun time's over, doll. my scalp's startin' to kill me here" touya shudders, slowly unwrapping his arms around you as he reaches for the shower head in your hand.
you stifle in your laughter watching him make a fuss inside your cramped bathroom.
that is until, you remembered that your bathroom tiles were pearly white and if he's rinsing off black hairdye then–
"TOUYA MY TILES!" you let out a screech
"too late, doll" touya pokes his tongue out at you, hair dye getting all over your walls and cold tiles.
you were gonna pay one hefty fine if you don't clean this shit up as soon as possible.
now, touya sits on your bed. drying his freshly dyed jet black hair with a towel and you're not even gonna lie to yourself. he looked a little too good for your liking. touya has always been a looker himself but with this new hairdo.. oh lord
"why are you looking at me like you want to eat me?" touya chuckles, hanging the now stained towel around his neck as he leans back on your bed with his elbows propped. he was giving you bedroom eyes, quite literally and figuratively.
what a tease!
"nothing. just making sure that i'm still talking to touya and not his emo alter ego dabi" you mused, plopping down on your bed next to him.
touya laughs at your comment. eyes turning into crescent moons
“thanks for everything, y/n,” touya says softly, voice full of genuine love and appreciation.
your heart swells at the sight of touya like this. you would move mountains if you could just to see touya– your touya happy.
"i love you, touya" you lean in for a kiss. to which touya happily returns the favor.
"i love you more than life, doll." touya smiles lazily against the kiss, cranking his neck to the side for more access as he deepens the kiss.
moments like these with you is when touya feels like he's on top of the world and he hopes it will forever stay like this cause to touya, he can face anything the world throws at him when he knows you'll be there right by his side
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lady-buggerinton · 18 hours
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My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)
My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?
5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal
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Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.
This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)
He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!
I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)
Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.
And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.
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I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.
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Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.
Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.
Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.
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Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.
I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.
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It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.
We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)
4. Market Scene
ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.
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SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.
If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!
There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.
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I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.
"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.
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Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.
She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.
Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.
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When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!
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3. Candy Tent
Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!
Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.
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Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"
The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!
I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.
Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.
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He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.
Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.
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His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.
I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.
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Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.
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Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!
2. First kiss/Dream Sequence
Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.
This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?
The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.
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This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!
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then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!
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What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.
Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.
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THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.
This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!
Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.
1. Carriage Scene
Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.
And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.
How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.
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Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)
He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.
The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
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so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.
on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.
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Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....
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Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.
Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3
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dix0nvix3n · 1 day
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𖤓°⋆ Chapter 1 °⋆𖤓
⋆☀︎。Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader  ⋆☀︎。Media: The Walking Dead; No Apocalypse & Alternate Universe ⋆☀︎。Pronouns: She/Her  ⋆☀︎。 Warning: Smoking (Cigarettes), One mention of weed, Talk of a bad past relationship. (That's it I think?) ⋆☀︎。 Word Count: 2.5k
⋆☀︎。 Author's Note: It's finally here... the beginning of my magnum opus. Even though I only have this one chapter out, there hasn't been a single day since I came up with the idea for the fic where I didn't think about it at least once. I just wanna thank all the people who let me infodump about it; y'all are true soldiers, cause I can really ramble on. Special thanks to @sinkdownbeneath for helping me write the intro because I was completely stuck for months with almost nothing to show, and being the person who let me yap the most, he can account for me pretty much talking about it every day for the past five months. So, anyway, I guess I hope y'all like my first finished something that wasn't just a blurb. Last night I only had a little over 200 words at 10 PM something, and now it's 7:44 AM with 2.5k words as I write this... I don't know what got into me, but anyway, enjoy!
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June 1st, 1992
Daryl finds himself propped up against a tree, catching his breath. The cool summer air around him makes his chest ache with every breath he takes. He had been running, hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he darted past every tree, trying to evade potential capture from a party that had him jumping out a window when the cops showed up due to a noise complaint.
He spent much of his life within the comfort of the woodland, underneath the thick canopy of leaves and branches, the first roof he ever felt safe under.
He gasped for air, his legs exhausted and his lungs overworked, adrenaline still pulsing through him as he slid down the rough bark of a tree, pulling his legs up to his chest.
He's close to the road, hearing a solitary car cruise past. He can tell it's late from the stars that peek through the leaves that loom above him in the thick black sky, but he spots his glimmer of hope, which seems to be the soft light of a gas station just a bit beyond the road's traffic barrier closest to him.
With a deep inhale, Daryl knew he had to walk to the gas station and reluctantly call for a ride in a phone booth.
After fully catching his breath, he pulled himself off the ground and began walking towards the gas station, already dreading the thought of the phone call.
Reaching the gas station, he saw two cars; one belonged to the lone worker at the cash register inside, and the other belonged to a woman smoking a cigarette at the side of the building. The woman did a quick wave at him, which he found to be a little odd just because most people at this time of night aren't too friendly, but he gave a polite wave back anyway. 
Finally getting up to the phone booth, Daryl looked down at his watch, which read 1:00 AM, causing him to let out a deep sigh, realizing how late it was and how much of an inconvenience it would be for someone to come and pick him up. 
He stepped inside the phone booth, staring at the phone for a minute before popping in the quarters he luckily grabbed from the living room floor of the party. If he hadn't grabbed them, he'd be completely fucked and have to figure out his way back to his apartment.
After dialing the number he knew would pick up, the phone rang just a few times before a tired and clearly just woken up by a phone at one in the morning voice picked up.
"Hey, Mr. H... Could ya pick me up?"
"Thanks. 'm sorry about this; kinda just started walking and didn't stop. Ended up at some party, and now I don' know where I am."
"Yeah. Place is called Peachy Speed, never seen another gas station called this; it must be family-owned or somethin' and the closest road sign says it's on Navel Street. You know where I'm at?"
"Okay, cool. See ya in a bit. Sorry again."
After hanging up, Daryl stepped out of the phone booth with his head held down, letting out a deep exhale and running a hand through his hair until he heard a pair of feet shuffling up to him.
He looked up to see who it was, and it was you, the woman who waved at him.
"Need one?" You held out an open pack of Marlboro Reds, with only one cigarette missing from the pack.
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." His thoughts stuttered for a moment because he was caught up in the fact that you came over to him. You're really pretty, and now Daryl feels like a nervous schoolboy trying to ask a girl to the prom just because of a simple gesture.
He grabbed a cigarette out of the box and reached to pull his lighter out of his pocket, only not to feel it, and checked the other pocket to have the same luck. "Shit."
You let out a small chuckle. "Need a light too?” You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and handed it over to him.
He nodded his thanks and popped the cig in his mouth before lifting the black bic with a spiderweb seemingly hand-painted on up to the end of the stick. Flicking the flame to life, he took a long inhale and handed you back the lighter, as he really took a moment to take in the sight of you. 
You were in a black tank top tucked into a pair of black ripped jean shorts. Under the pair of jean shorts were fishnets with an intricate pattern of moons and stars, and you had on a pair of slightly battered-up Doc Martens. 
As he exhaled the first plume of smoke into the night sky, he saw your kind smile, which sent a rush of warmth through his face. Your lips had a simple gloss on them, but your eyes were a different story, painted with smokey eyeshadow, sharp graphic eyeliner, and two rounds of mascara on each set of your top lashes. He also noticed the simple yet pretty titanium stud on the left side of your nose and two helix rings on both your ears.
He thought you were gorgeous, his heartbeat a slightly faster pace than what it normally rested at.
"Rough night?" You asked as you lit up a cigarette for yourself, letting out a slight gag at the taste and smell that you weren't used to, which caused Daryl to let out a small chuckle.
"Sorta. More of just hated the fact I had to call and wake someone up to come and get me. First time smokin'?" He said before he took another drag.
"How'd you know?" You said sarcastically as your face contorted in disgust a bit at the taste building up in your mouth and throat after each puff.
"Maybe try a different brand. You'll find one ya like." A small smile graced his lips as he butted off the ash at the end and took another drag. 
"Nah. Think I'm quitting after this one. I'll just stick to weed."
He let out a chuckle. "May I ask, why'd ya even start?"
You let out a small groan, running your hand through your hair in slight embarrassment. "I finally left my shitty boyfriend once and for all. I finally realized he'd never like me for the real me. I constantly had to put on this mask around him, and I finally found out that it was impossible to fix him and the fact he didn't actually like me. I know it sounds weird, but I guess my thought process was that my epiphany about him would stick with me after smoking one like a character in a movie or something." You let out a laugh. "Stupid, right?" 
He snubbed out the end of the cigarette, as it was almost a roach at this point. "Nah, it ain't stupid. A lot of my best thoughts come after smokin' one, cleared my head more times than I can count. You deserve one after the bullshit he put you through, I think. Hope the prick is havin' a shit night after realizin' he's lost you cause ya seem awesome to me so far."
You felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks at his words. "Thanks. I know I deserve better. I'm just pissed; it took me so long to realize it. So, anyway, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked yet."
"Name's Daryl; what's yours?"
You had a few good puffs left of your cig but decided to snub yours out as well since you didn't like it anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Daryl. My name is (Y/N). Do you wanna come sit with me at my spot against the wall? My most likely melted slushy is calling my name to get this taste out of my mouth." 
"Yeah, I can. Might be a bit till my ride gets here, so I might as well sit down." He started walking to your spot, and you followed in tow. 
When you got back to your spot, you looked down at your slushy on the ground. The dark purple concoction of blue raspberry and cherry slushy combo was completely melted. "Goddammit." You didn't fully care though; you paid for that slushy, because you were stubborn it meant you were going to have all of what you paid for, so you drank down the rest of the sugary liquid with a satisfied sigh. It was luckily still cold, at least, and it was just what you needed to get the taste of the cigarette out of your mouth.
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As time passed, you and Daryl talked about whatever came to mind as you doodled some intricate pattern on the front of the pack of the Marlboro Reds with a sharpie, ultimately moving to the back when you ran out of room. You found out that he works as a mechanic for motorcycles and cars at a nearby auto body shop, that he rides a motorcycle that he built himself a few years ago, that he loves to hunt on occasion, specifically with a crossbow, and that he ran from the cops at a house party tonight.
You knew your short time with Daryl was up when you saw a 1987 Ford Sierra MK2 pull into a parking spot at the gas station, and Daryl stood up, doing a quick stretch. The man in the car smiled and made a small wave at you, and you did the same back.
"It was nice meetin' ya, (Y/N). I'd talk more, but I don't wanna keep him up any longer." He said as he gestured a hand towards the man who came to pick him up. 
"It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for talking to me, Daryl." You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and held them out to him. "Take these. You need them more than me. Plus, I just quit." You grinned at him as he took the box from you. 
"Holy shit, thank you." He smiled back as he placed the box in his own pocket and slowly started walking backward towards the car. "Hope ya have a good night and that Nick the dick has a shit one. 
You let out a laugh at the nickname Daryl gave your ex-boyfriend and waved him goodbye with a "You too." You leaned your head back against the wall, staring up at the night sky as your eyes finally began to feel tired, knowing you should head back to your friend's apartment soon and try and get some sleep before your nine AM shift. 
Once Daryl got in the car, he let out a quiet sigh as he looked out the window at you, wishing he dared to ask for your number. You were the first good conversation he'd had in a while, and his schoolboy-like crush on you kept growing the whole time you talked.
"So, who's that?" The man said as he shifted the car into gear, Daryl noticing the grin on his face.
"A girl that started talkin' to me after our call. Name's (Y/N)." He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, mindlessly tracing the pattern of doodles you did.
"You ask for her number? The car was now beginning to be backed out of its parking spot.
"Nah. Mind if I smoke?" Daryl shook the pack and began looking for one of the lighters he left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago. 
The man shook his head with a slight sigh and said, "Go ahead." He wasn't shaking his head over Daryl wanting to smoke, but over the fact he wouldn't ask for your number when he obviously liked you, but he knew he couldn't push him; he understood Daryl's nature.
Daryl looked back out the window at you, opening it as he blew out the first cloud of smoke. He then looked back down in his lap where the box lay, flipping it over to the back to see what you had drawn there as well. His breath hitched as he saw it. On the back was your phone number, and above it said, "Call me" with a smiley face. 
The tips of Daryl's ears were beet red, and he tried to hold back his face from turning the same color. He looked back out the window at you to see you grinning at him this time, to which he smiled and waved goodbye to you as the car pulled out of the lot. In Daryl's twenty-three years of life, he could say that this night was one of his best.
"Daryl, why'd you call me Mr. H again? Son, you've known me for five years; how many times do I gotta remind you to call me by my name? It's Dale for you."
Daryl let out a small cloud of smoke this time, wanting to savor this one on the peaceful ride back. "I'll tell ya again, it happens when I'm nervous; didn't wanna wake you up, s'all, and you still are my boss after all."
"Daryl, you're like a son to me, and I told you to never be nervous if you need help, and that includes coming and picking you up in the middle of the night if needed. I'm here for you." Dale placed his right hand on Daryl's shoulder, keeping his left on the wheel as he squeezed his shoulder lightly before returning it to the steering wheel.
"Now, it's not Mr. H or Mr. Horvath, son. It's Dale."
Daryl rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, sir," he joked, letting out a chuckle.
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It was the next day around 10:30 PM when Daryl picked up the phone on his nightstand and finally called the number you gave him, nervously wrapping the cord around his finger. The phone only rang twice before the other end picked up, "Hey, is this (Y/N)?" 
The inner teenage girl in your brain screamed in excitement, so happy that he finally called. "Omg, Daryl! I was wondering when you were gonna call me. I've been waiting since I got off my shift."
"Didn't know if you worked a mornin' or a night shift, and I didn't wanna leave too many voicemails on your friend's phone."
"Yeah, I worked a morning shift at the diner today. I got off at five. Morning shifts are the fucking worst." You're lying on your stomach on the couch, playfully curling the phone's cord around your finger and kicking your feet back and forth in the air.
You and Daryl talked for an hour, mainly talking about the shitty customers you dealt with today, sounding especially frustrated about the woman who yelled at you just because the diner was out of unsweet tea that you couldn't do anything about because the place was also out of tea bags to make more. What did she want you to do? Just up and leave your job and go buy the tea bags, your fucking self?
"Even though I don't want to, I gotta go to bed 'cause I have another morning shift tomorrow. I get off at five, so call me around six-thirty, okay?" 
"I get off at five too. Works for me. Goodnight, (Y/N)."
"Goodnight to you too, Daryl."
The call ended, and you both looked up at your respective ceilings, smiling as warmth bloomed through your faces. You both slept well that night, falling asleep to the thought of calling each other tomorrow.
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⋆☀︎。 Extra author's note: Here's what Dale would look like in 1992, I took Dale's age of 64 from the show since the apocalypse started in 2010 so he'd be 46 in 1992. I think this picture of Jeffrey Demunn is from when he was 43 maybe? I can't remember but that's close enough to 46 and even if he isn't 43 in the image he fits the look of someone in their mid-forties. Just imagine him without the cowboy hat, okay? There's not a lot of pictures of him when he was younger.
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⋆☀︎。 Taglist: @mrdixon , @yevmarie , and @shadowcitrine
⋆☀︎。 Divider creds: @ saradika, go check her account out! She has some very cute dividers!
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raayllum · 2 days
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Once again I am so completely in my Janaya feelings because they're just so well done as a ship and so refreshing as a canon queer ship in particular??
Like they're rival generals who are uniquely matched in skill! We see how good of a fighter Amaya is in S1 (she's the top General of the Standing Battalion for crying out loud) so having someone who has her even somewhat on the run in S2 immediately catches our notice, as well as just how striking Janai is, even before we know she's the Golden Knight of Lux Aurea and sister to the queen.
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Then we get some fun games of cat and mouse with the two circling and outsmarting each other; Janai luring Amaya's troops into an ambush and then having Amaya outsmart her way through anyway, and Janai ruining Amaya's plan to sever the Breach as a connective point between their lands (at least temporarily). It's small, but it shows that they're not just physically matched in battle, but intellectually too, and it makes their connection / rivalry feel more personal.
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But of course this starts to shift when Amaya is stranded on Janai's side of the Breach, and spares her life because there's been enough unnecessary violence, having to literally Drop her shield to do so (mm, the symbolism).
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We then get a new stage of their dynamic, as Amaya is very good bad at being interrogated ("She may have told you a rather unusual way in which your body might accommodate your sword") even if Kazi tries to minimize the ruder signs along the way as an interpreter. And even when Amaya could just look at Kazi for translation, her gaze continually strays to Janai. Then, Janai vouches for Amaya to her sister and Amaya has to trust Janai in the Light trial, which is also why she asks Janai to trust her when Viren shows up and starts causing trouble.
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What follows is a fire forged friendship (literally) where Janai experiences Amaya's greatest grief -- the loss of a sister -- and they support each other through the battle to come, especially now that they have a common enemy. There's even blushing, battle gazing smiles, being protective, and paralleled hand holds.
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Then, when we pick up after the two year timeskip, it's quickly apparent they're in a relationship — "But there are some things you shouldn't keep secret, especially from me" — and hints at exactly what kind of traditional ceremony this is, as Janai proposes and the two embrace and kiss.
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And the show always, consistently, constantly, discusses their love for each other frankly and in terms no one can mistake.
"I know [she's a fearsome fighter], that is what I love about her," "The only message is that I've chosen this amazing woman to be my wife," "I love you and I'm ready to marry you," "I only really know one thing: Amaya, I want a life with you, I want to marry you," "Our queen and her bride to be just left on a romantic picnic in broad daylight!" "I just need a distraction—that's right, wedding planning." "Is someone getting married?" "Now I know how wrong I was about elves: I'm in love with one [...] Meeting Janai, falling in love" etc etc. Even down to the little details like Amaya's sign name for Janai being a J over her heart.
I also really appreciate that they're able to be so physically affectionate, particularly Amaya towards Janai in her tenderness as well.
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At the same time, they don't always entirely see eye to eye. Amaya is adjusting to a culture that's not her own; Janai is still finding her footing and more importantly her confidence in being queen, even without internal usurpation coups going on and an evil blood drinking lesbian Moonshadow elf on the loose.
They trade and gift each other's another swords so they can be by one another's side in spirit when they do have to part. They're happily planning their wedding and giving each other hope throughout the encroaching madness of their lives. They get cute little callbacks to things like "She thinks I'm cute but won't admit it yet," exchange loving looks when their tribulations are done, and love each other with their whole hearts, allowing them to provide allegorical commentary on some of the societal pushback LBGTQ+ couples receive while also never having it dominate their shared plotline(s) or arcs with one another.
I just love them a lot, and these are some of the reasons why! I can't wait for more of their relationship development in S6 and S7!
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ladykailitha · 2 days
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Paper Hearts Part 6
The sequel is coming along great I just have one more part to do and it'll be done. Sweet Home Indiana is nearing its end too.
Heads up! I will be going on vacation on Tuesday and won't be back until next week. So no WIP Wednesday this week as that is the day of my niece's graduation and I will be away from laptop all day.
I will still be uploading chapters and should be able to do WIP Wednesday next week. But if not I'll let you know.
In this we have the Corroded Coffin boys being silly and a wild Dustin appears.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
****
Eddie rolled up to band practice fashionably late as always. The other three boys were doing a sound check and making sure everything was in order.
Gareth looked up first. “Did you bring the hearts?” he asked excitedly.
Eddie held up his bag and the other boys cheered.
“So how are we going to do this?” Eddie asked flopping on the sofa after gently setting his sweetheart to the side. “Do we want to do the hearts first or practice first?”
They all look around at each for a moment.
“Let’s get the heart thing out of the way,” Jeff suggested, “get it out of the way so we can focus on practicing.”
“Sounds good to me, man,” Gareth said. “In case practice runs over or some shit.”
Eddie pulled his backpack closer and began digging through it. He pulled out the hearts that he’d put in a plastic baggie so they wouldn’t get bent in the maw that was his bag.
He tossed the bag onto the table in front of them and then dug around for his notebook. He pulled it out with a bunch of pens.
“You don’t have to,” he murmured, “but I’d recommend changing up your handwriting a couple of times so he doesn’t realize they’re from the same four people.”
“We were doing anonymous and initials, right?” Brian asked, picking up the bag and opening it up.
Eddie lit up, a huge smile on his face. “I actually had an idea about that. I was thinking of famous groups with four dudes in it and I thought it would be hilarious if we mixed it up a bit with some of those to avoid the whole repetition thing.”
Jeff licked his top lip. “Show us what you’ve got,” he said jutting out his chin.
He opened up his notebook and flipped to the right page. “Alright, so I was thinking the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.”
“Who would be who?” Gareth asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Gareth is absolutely D’Artagnan,” Brian said without hesitation. “No question.”
Jeff straightened up and looked over at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”
“Because my dearest Jeffy,” Eddie said with a grin, “because he’s the youngest and not an original member. Therefore D’Artagnan.”
Gareth and Brian glanced at each. Brian shrugged and Gareth blinked a moment or two before he shrugged, too.
“Yeah, that tracks.”
“I’ll take Aramis,” Eddie said with a grin. “The smooth talker with religious trauma.”
The other boys just cackled.
“I’ll be Porthos,” Brian said. “The compulsive liar with a flare for the dramatic.”
“Why am I left with the dude with serious romantic wo–” Jeff stopped. “Right, scratch that. I’m Athos.”
They cackled again. Eddie had had some wild crushes, but it was nothing on Jeff. He even had a slightly tragic love story. He’d actually dated Vicki Carmichael before she became a popular kid and hanging out with Steve’s crowd. They had both loved metal music, but Jeff was pretty sure she stopped listening to it once she joined the cool kids.
“And I have a list of other ones too,” Eddie said breaking into the resulting silence. “The four winds from Greek mythology. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...um...let’s see...” he looked at the notebook again. “The members of Metallica. The four horsemen of the apocalypse–”
Jeff winced. “Probably not that one, man. It’s for Valentine’s day and that kinda screams the opposite.”
Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then scratched out that idea. “Fair enough.”
“The four hobbits from Lord of the Rings?” Gareth suggested.
“Yes!” Brian cried. “I get to be Samwise!”
Jeff cackled. “Gareth and Eddie are sooo Merry and Pippin!”
“Oh god! Yes! Which one is which, though?” Brian said joining in the laughter.
“I’m Merry, of course,” Eddie said proudly. “I’m the instigator and Gareth goes where I lead.”
Gareth grumped in the corner, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them. “But that makes Jeff Frodo though.”
Jeff straightened up, smug. “I could handle that.”
Eddie shook his head at his friends. “All right, also on my list are the Ghostbusters and The A-Team.”
The other boys shook their heads at either suggestion but they had a pretty good list anyway. Plus their D&D names sprinkled in here and there and they’ve got in the bag.
They spent the next half hour coming up with nice things about Steve. Eddie did have nix a couple of their ideas because they came off as stalker-esque. Which was not the look they were going for.
****
To say that Eddie got a kick out of seeing Steve light up every time he opened his locker and more pink hearts fluttered out of it was an understatement.
The goofy smile the former jock got on his face was worth every second of the time they’d spent on the project.
And it was working, too. That was the really impressive part.
Even Tommy H. was baffled.
“How the hell are you getting so many pink hearts, Harrington?” he said on Friday, just four days into Eddie’s plan.
Steve shrugged in that dorky way that made Eddie’s heart stop. “I guess people are deciding to hell with social constructs and stupid cliques and are telling me even if they don’t dare to be open about that they still like me.”
Tommy’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish then he turned around and stormed off.
Eddie lean against the lock above Steve. “Back to being king again, huh, Stevie?”
“Not really,” he said, closing his locker and standing up. “Most of them are anonymous or fake names. But there are a few that real names.”
“You think someone is stuffing the ballot box as it were?” Eddie asked, worried the jig was up.
Steve shook his head. “At least I don’t think so. But it’s sad that they think they have to hide who they are to tell me that they still think I’m a cool dude or whatever.”
“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, pushing off from the locker, “I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”
Steve blushed and mumbled his thanks.
God, did Eddie just want to bite those flushed cheeks. They were just too cute.
“It’s worth a lot, actually,” Steve whispered. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Catch you later, Eds.”
Shit that little nickname had Eddie’s heart doing overtime.
****
Steve was outside the middle school waiting for Dustin to come out. His mom had asked Steve to pick him because she had to stay after hours at work for a meeting.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed to the music in his head. He could have turned on the radio but Dustin hated his music didn’t like him blaring it for the whole school to hear.
His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to see his backpack on the backseat. He wanted to go over the ones he got today. There had been some really good ones. Ones that melted his insides and turned them to goo.
He bit his lip and checked the mirror again. He looked at his watch and he still had a couple minutes until the bell rang.
Steve whirled around and grabbed the bag. He ripped it open and pulled out his trapper keeper. Tucked in the front pocket were the hearts. He ran his fingers over the outline the hearts made on the plastic pocket.
He pulled out the hearts and read over each one. Tracing the names of the givers, thinking about each name and wondering where they were from.
There was a thump on his window startling him. He looked up to see Dustin making faces at him through the glass.
Steve shook his head and unlocked the passenger door to let the twerp in.
“Looking at pink hearts, Steve?” Dustin asked with the shake of his head. “So pathetic.”
Steve rolled his eyes and tried to put the hearts back in the folder, but Dustin snatched them from him and wouldn’t let him take them back.
“Come on, man!” Steve whined. “They’re none of your business.”
“I want to see which girls are giving the Steve Harrington Valentine’s hearts,” Dustin said, wagging his eyebrows.
“Dude, give it up,” he growled. “The pink hearts are friendship hearts, the red ones are the romantic ones. So give it back.”
The younger teen cocked his head to the side and said, “No.”
Steve folded his arms and glared at him.
“Aren’t you going to take me home?” Dustin asked after they sat in silence for a minute or two.
“Not until you give them back.”
Dustin just shrugged. “It’s your funeral if we get home after my mom does.”
Steve threw his arms in the air, but turned the engine and started the car toward the Hendersons.
“These are actually really sweet, Steve,” Dustin said after a couple of minutes. “I like the idea of friendship hearts. That way you don’t accidentally send the wrong message.”
Steve just shrugged.
“You do know that some of these are fake names, right?”
Steve rolled his eyes and dared to look over at him. “Yes, of course I do. I am familiar with D’Artagnan after you named a fucking demodog after him, thanks.”
Dustin cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “That’s fair. What you probably don’t know is that Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are the names of the Three Musketeers.”
Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s cool.” They hit a stop sign and Steve looked over and pulled out one. “What about this one? Tommy H. thinks it’s short for Kassie, but none of the girls at our school spell it like that.”
Dustin took the heart and looked at it. “Kas. Kas. Yeah, okay. That does sound familiar. Can I get back to you on that one?”
“Sure thing, bud.”
Steve pulled up to curb to let Dustin out. “You got your key? If you don’t, you can hang out with me until your mom gets home.”
Dustin began rummaging around in his bag and Steve snatched the hearts away before he could bend them.
The kid pulled out his keys with a triumphant, “Eureka!”
Steve shook his head. “You are such a dweeb. Go on, get.”
“Bye, Steve!”
“Next time say thank you, asshole!” Steve called out the window.
Dustin turned around and gave him the double middle finger.
Steve shook his head and drove off. Why he loved that kid, he had no idea.
When he got home he pulled out the little notebook and placed the pink hearts in with the rest. All but the one from Kas. Those he kept in his wallet. He really couldn’t place why. There was just something about what they said that made him feel warm and not in the fuzzy friendship way that the others did.
There was the first one:
-Stevie I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you. Kas
Which Steve loved but the others were just as sweet.
-Stevie You have a great laugh, you don’t have to hide it. Kas
-Stevie That shirt today really brings out the color in your eyes. Kas
And Steve’s personal favorite:
-Stevie Each day is brighter because you’re in it. Kas
There was one for each day he got hearts in his locker so he assumed it was all the same person.
He slid it next to the other three hearts in the billfold portion of his wallet and put the wallet next to his keys on his desk. Then he put the little notebook back, careful to make sure it was well hidden.
He wasn’t sure what his dad would do about the mementos but Steve really didn’t want to find out.
He was really going to miss getting the hearts over the weekend. They really had become the highlight of his day.
He sighed and buckled down to work on his homework. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t invited to any parties, he didn’t have friends to hang out with, and the people who would hang with him were fourteen year olds and they all had bedtimes.
He briefly thought about calling Eddie, but the guy had friends, unlike Steve and was probably doing something with them. Probably that nerd game that Eddie had a club for.
He buried his head in his hands.
Steve sighed. Fuck his life was depressing as shit.
With another sigh, he resigned himself to another lonely weekend.
****
Tag List: CLOSED
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie
@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi
@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy
@irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee
@awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76
@scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @fullpoetrybread
@disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13 @skyewaytohell
@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife
@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh
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campfam4lyfe · 3 days
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I get that Brooklynn is your favorite, she used to be mine too, but what are your thoughts on her in chaos theory? Don't you feel they destroyed her character? She's not herself anymore, and the fact that she can just. Fake her death and traumatize her friends/neglect her boyfriend like. I don't know, thats not it. I don't like her much anymore.
time to do my job as a brooklynn defender lol, alright here goes:
Don't you feel they destroyed her character? She's not herself anymore, and the fact that she can just. Fake her death and traumatize her friends/neglect her boyfriend like. I don't know, thats not it.
So. Thinking about Brooklynn. About her death. You mention how she faked it. except, I don’t think saying she faked it is really an accurate or fair description.
Brooklynn didn’t fake anything—here is what we know, and here is what I mean. The facts that we are presented with through season 1. limited as they are, are that Brooklynn was at a Dino Drop, the allosaurus escaped, and that it "killed her." Except it didn't really kill her. It is framed as an accident--a random Dino attack. But Ben shows up and suddenly it's clear that maybe it wasn't an accident.
So let's run through the facts one more time. Brooklynn's 'death' at the hands of the allosaurus wasn't an accident. It was premeditated. The attack was an honest to goodness attempt on Brooklynn's life. One the camp fam--and the people who targeted Brooklynn in the first place--believed worked. You're going to want to keep this in mind, because now I am going to address the other part of your ask.
Don't you feel they destroyed her character? She's not herself anymore, and the fact that she can just. Fake her death and traumatize her friends/neglect her boyfriend like. I don't know, thats not it.
Brooklynn's character has not, to me, been destroyed.
We see little of Brooklynn and what she was doing throughout Chaos Theory, because we are learning about her again through the eyes and memories of the people who loved and mourned her--we are gathering bits and pieces, parts of the narrative that we, as the viewers, can piece together more efficiently than the actual players, because the knowledge the Camp Fam has is disjointed in that they are not all privy to the same information or how it connects--and it's not their fault at all! They are not working under the same information we have--that Brooklynn is alive--and so, don't know why certain things are more important. Even we don't have the full picture, although what we have is a little clearer.
But from what we see of Brooklynn throughout Chaos Theory, there is something there that you believe is not true to her previously established character. I disagree. I think what you are talking about, when you say that she is not herself anymore, is that Brooklynn is too invested in her conspiracies, so much so that she has thrown everything else away--her "life", her regard for her friends/family and her relationships with them.
But I think, that when it comes to Brooklynn, being obsessed with a conspiracy or mystery is in fact a major core part of her character. We saw it all throughout Camp Cretaceous. She sneaks away when they visit Wu's lab that first time to snoop--and yes, maybe it was for her followers, trying to find something juicy before everything went to shit, but what she saw clearly stood out to her. She was hooked, she reviewed that footage, and it stayed with her so much so that when she saw the label E750 again at a later date while on the security cameras, she lingered over the shot before having to move on to help the others. And even then, it was clear that it stayed with her--whatever Wu did, whatever E750 was, it was a mystery and Brooklynn wanted to solve it.
And we see the others are aware of this! Sammy recruits Brooklynn to help out in her quest to find information, and the mystery consumes Brooklynn so much that initially, she was steamrolling right over Sammy's input. We also see Brooklynn's thirst for mystery solving when she becomes so focused on the frozen flowers, something she mentioned so much so that the other campers could quote her on it. We see it with her suspicions regarding Mitch and Tiff, and even Mae. We see it again in the final episode, when we catch a glimpse of the campers as teenagers. Brooklynn mentions the Lockwood Estate, which, for those who don't know or remember, is where the later events of JW:Fallen Kingdom (timeline wise, this is three years after the first Jurassic World, so three years after the kids first got left behind in the Park.) The events at the Lockwood Estate and what was supposed to be happening there wasn't public knowledge. That was Brooklynn following a lead, as at that point in time when she brings it up, the dinosaurs hadn't been set loose yet.
The reason I mention all this is because I really don't think Brooklynn's obsessiveness or drive is new. She loves investigative work, and she's good at putting together pieces too. She's also been shown to have a love for mysteries, loving Esther Stone and having her videos following the pattern of being named "Brooklynn unboxes x." She likes knowing the whys, whens, wheres, and whats. She literally says that she is trying to make the transition from influencer/vlogger to investigative journalist. Which is why I am not at all surprised with her being so focused on this Dino smuggling rings, and why I believe it was in character.
Tying It All Together
Now I know what you may be thinking. "But she neglected Kenji! That's not good girlfriend behavior. She faked her death! That's horrible." Valid, but also, not fundamentally true.
I said earlier, that by "not herself" you might mean that "Brooklynn is too invested in her conspiracies, so much so that she has thrown everything else away--her "life", her regard for her friends/family and her relationships with them." I don't think she has though, and if it has ended up that way, it was never her intention.
Take in all the Brooklynn scenes from Chaos Theory. Each member of the Camp Fam has an interaction with her that is shown through flashback or hinted at. So let's put together a timeline.
Brooklynn is dead at the start of the show, but for how long, I don't actually remember. I will put it at 6 months to a year, but if anyone else knows for sure, just let me know and I'll fix it. Anyways. She is dead for six months to a year. And in the months leading up to her death, she was investigating something, but they don't know what. We know that it had something to do with Dark Jurassic, Kenji's father, and Dino Smuggling. We know Ben introduced her to Dark Jurassic. We know Brooklynn stayed with Darius, left her jacket at Sammy's, and visited Yaz.
So here goes a tentative undertaking:
Ben introduces Brooklynn to Dark Jurassic and she visits him at his college. He hasn't dropped out/left yet. She is mentioning conspiracy theories, some as a joke, but its clear something there has caught her attention.
Brooklynn gets deeper into Dark Jurassic, and at some point reads about Dino Immersive therapy, which she recommends to Yaz. She visits her at some point, but when, is unclear.
Brooklynn visits Sammy. She is on Dark Jurassic so often that when Sammy has a flashback of her, Brooklynn is visibly on the site.
Brooklynn is with Kenji, but has been so absorbed in her mystery that she has started to neglect Kenji, but doesn't realize it. This goes on for a while. He breaks up with her and they are both devastated.
Brooklynn stays with Darius. Is still embroiled in her mystery. Asks Darius to meet up with her. "Dies."
Now, at some point before 4 and 5, Brooklynn visits Daniel Kon, gets a secret apartment, and is undercover within the Dino Smuggling ring.
We know that she did not tell her friends, or her boyfriend, any of this. Why? Especially Kenji! He was her boyfriend, one of her biggest supporter's, and his father was the guy Brooklynn went to so she could get her in to the smuggling world. Kenji has always heard her out, like when he was the one who stayed behind with her when she accidentally hurt Darius with the 'cool dad' comment. Kenji is the one who agreed to snoop with her regardless of his feelings because it was important to her. So why would she not go to her biggest supporter?
I believe that Chaos Theory tackled the kids growing up and their respective trauma very well. Not all of them are dealing very well. Yaz is the only one who seems to have gone to therapy, while Ben, Darius, and Kenji are all isolating. Sammy is dealing with repression and toxic positivity. It's very possible that Brooklynn was also dealing, and not very well at that. It's possible that her trauma manifested in another way. Maybe she needed to push herself into a project so she could ignore what happened--or maybe she needed to push herself into a project so if something happened, she could be prepared? We don't know! And it's because we don't know that I am going to, for the time being, ignore this, and focus on the possible reasons as to why she didn't tell them from what we do know.
Yaz has PTSD, and struggled a lot with the hopelessness of having to put the dinosaurs first and it costing them their way home in the later seasons of CC. So maybe Brooklynn didn't tell her because she didn't want to halter Yaz's progress. Still, she let on that she was investigating something and about Dark Jurassic.
Sammy is worried about Yaz, and so maybe Brooklynn didn't tell her because involving Sammy might mean involving Yaz, or maybe she didn't want to put stress on their relationship by having Sammy lie to her. Still, she let on that she was investigating something and about Dark Jurassic.
Ben had college. What, was she just going to disrupt that? Still, she let on that she was investigating something and talked with him about Dark Jurassic, which he introduced her to.
Kenji. Kenji was her boyfriend, her rock, THE Brooklynn enabler. who has always heard her out. The only time he didn't hear her out immediately was when his father was interfering. The same father she would need to go to for a door into the smuggling world. The same father who Kenji lived close to but never visited. In the last season of CC, Brooklynn, when investigating Daniel Kim, says that she won't break Kenji's heart without a good reason. Maybe, she did not feel like going to him about his father was a good reason--Kenji was in a good place, how could she hurt him like that? Maybe she thought she was protecting him. So she doesn't tell him. Still, she let on that she was investigating something.
Darius. Darius is my biggest "Brooklynn's Fake Death Can't Be Classified As Willfully Malicious On Her Part" card. Because he is the one that proves that Brooklynn did not in fact get sucked in so deep in her mystery that she tossed away all bonds and relationships. Did her death fuck him up? Definitely. But guys! She called him there that night, they had plans, she was "going to show him something!!!" Guys. She went to Darius. She was going to show Darius. Do you get that. In Chaos Theory, they say "Brooklynn was there to buy the Allosaurus that night." They are heartbroken. Yaz and Sammy say no way, and Darius says it is true, that she had a secret apartment, cash, and a note from Mr.Kim. But guys. She was going to show Darius.
Every time Brooklynn is called out on her behavior and shown how her obsessiveness hurts her friends—the way Sammy called her out when they were investigating E750, or her feeling regret over the “cool dad” comment when investigating Mitch and Tiff—she takes a step back and reassesses. She starts to investigate again but with changed behavior. That’s growth. Kenji breaking up with her may have really been the catalyst to her trying to show Darius what she was up to. As Darius says, Brooklynn was really torn up about the breakup and it is so visible on her face that she is devastated—she loved Kenji. She loved her friends.
So Brooklynn’s behavior, it was not Brooklynn cutting out her friends. Was she 100% honest with all of them? No. And unfortunately, the one person who she was going to show what was going on, didn't get to make it, and Brooklynn was killed.
Except she lived. So why not tell them? Why let them stew in grief? Why abandon them? Look, I think a lot of you are forgetting that the kids are very very good at improv. Are we forgetting Darius and Kash?An attempt on Brooklynn's life was made, and she somehow miraculously survived. She adapted, and made a plan on the go, lying low, somehow creating a trusted network, while being unable to reach out to her friends--it would blow her cover, and also possibly put them in danger. Who knows? Besides. Let's not forget, Ben was not the one who called Darius in that first episode. I don't know, but I do think it could have been Brooklynn, or someone on behalf of her, like Ronnie. (Or it could have been raptor lady to make sure Darius was home but who knows!)
Look, ultimately, you don't have to like her, and I'm not forcing anyone to! I do love her though, and her choices are ones I will defend. Besides, I know we are talking about camp fam trauma reactions to Brooklynn's death, but guys, flip side? We have a character who was going to tell her friend what she was up to, only to have an assassination attempt on her life causing her to lose a limb and go into hiding, not being able to contact her loved ones. I cannot even begin to think of the trauma Brooklynn has.
I hope this answers your ask anon, I feel I rambled too much lol!
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Dirty Work 54
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: I am back to work tmrw.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You choose a simple dress. You like the shade of peach even as Loki eyes you archly. It might not be the choice that offends him but the state of yourself. Your nose is still healing, bandaged but not as heavily, and you have much left to recover. His own injuries remain tinged on his pale skin.
You shimmy the dress on and turn your back to him as he drones cynically. His fingers creep up along your bottom to meet the zipper and he tugs it up slowly. He’s reluctant. 
“What is it? You don’t like the dress?” You face him.
“I’d rather prefer you naked,” he purrs with a wink, “but I am not overly fond of the colour, no.” 
“Oh, but... you bought it?” 
“Yes, my sister did have it included in the purchase but... it is rather bright.” 
“I like it,” you run your hands over your stomach and hips, “it fits nicely but if you want me to change...” 
“No, darling, do what you wish,” he crosses his arms, “I must learn to let you do so.” 
You narrow your eyes. His malleability does not come without resentment. You shrug. You don’t have all day to be sussing out his preference. 
“What is it you and my mother have planned?” He asks. 
“I’m not certain,” you say as you search for your phone. The one he gave you. 
“No? Hm, darling, what about a necklace?” He goes to the jewellery box and plucks out a golden chain with a peridot emblem.  
“I guess,” you dig around in your work bag, most of your luggage still unpacked. 
“You guess? It is a pretty necklace. What about amethyst?” 
“Loki,” you fish out your phone but not the one you meant to. Your old flip.  
You put it down on the nightstand stiffly and return to your search. It feels so long ago that you were that person. That sad girl living with your father and flitting through a meandering existence. You won’t say you’ve moved up very much, still at the whim of a man, but you feel distant from that person. 
Perhaps Walpurgisnacht was more a rebirth than you could know. 
“Pet...” Loki comes closer as you retrieve your work phone. It’s dead.  
“I need to charge it,” you show him the device. 
“You should toss the old one. Doubt it even works.” 
“I know, I will. I have to back it up,” you say evasively. There’s not much on it but it’s the only connection you still have to your previous life. You’re not ready to slice through that last strand. 
“Mm, right then, well, another to do for the list,” he steps nearer and tickles your waist, “suppose you delay your little outing with my mother and I take you to lunch--” 
“She’s a guest, and your mother,” you rebuke. “Loki, I’m only doing what I need to do. Isn’t that what you want?” 
He sighs, “yes, but... it is still my house. I would like more than my leave. I should say when you need go pick out flowers or tablecloths or whatnot.” 
“Proposals typically lead to all that,” you say, “at least from what I know.” 
“What you know?” He muses. 
“Yeah, I’ve seen a few Kate Hudson movies,” you quip and give a goofy smile but quickly repress it. “Sorry, that wasn’t... funny.” 
His cheeks dimple and his nostrils flair, his lips slightly curved, “is that... humour? From you?” 
“Well, I... yeah, why not?” 
“Hm, it isn’t a slight but you are not one for laughter.” 
“Or maybe you’ve never made me laugh,” you blurt out and quickly snap your mouth shut. 
His brows drop and his smile too. You stare at him. Oops. You are getting to comfortable. Even if you are to be his wife, you aren’t his equal. You don’t know that you could ever be. 
He chuckles, “darling, how very sharp.” He reaches to frame your chin and turns you to him completely, “I should try harder then, to hear your sweet laughs.” 
You smile, a flutter in your chest, “that’s sweet.” 
“I am sweet,” he says, offended. “What do you mean?” 
You just stare at him. Is he kidding? 
“Don’t,” he warns with a frown. “Very well, go, have fun. Should I need anything, I will be certain to let mother know since you will be without tether...” he keeps his hand on you, squeezing, “you will be safe with her, I know.” 
“Loki,” you murmur, “he’s not coming back. He wouldn’t.” 
He stares at you solemnly, “no, he shouldn’t.” 
It seems as if he doubts his own words. For a moment, you do too. He knows his brother much better. Yet, how can Thor return when all have turned their backs on him? 
“There is no hurry, mother can wait...” 
“Loki, she’s only visiting,” you remind him, “the sooner it’s done, the sooner they go, right?” 
“Mm, you are clever,” he looks past you with apprehension, “suppose so. And I should speak with father about some things...” he leans in and kisses your forehead, withdrawing absently as he taps his fingertips together, “weddings and such...” 
You give him a look but he’s too distracted to notice. This whole affair is his idea and yet he is uncertain. You watch him placidly. 
“We don’t have to... marry--” 
“No, no,” he returns his attention to you, “of course we must. We will—how could you—oh, I know it is all very new to you, pet, but trust in me. It isn’t my first rodeo. Regrettably.” 
You feel a pang at the allusion to his previous marriage. You remember Sif with her sleek figure and her perfect smile and her sparkling eyes. You are second in all ways to her. 
“I should go,” you insist with a sniff. 
“Mm, yes, you should,” he grabs your shoulders and lays another kiss, this time on your lips. “I have told mother very strictly not to dawdle so you shouldn’t either.” 
“We’ll be fine,” you assure him. 
“When did you get so confident,” he teases as he retracts from you. 
You offer a sheepish smile. Not confident, but hopeful. A change nonetheless. 
Frigga insists on lunch before you do anything. You’re struck with deja vu as she returns to that same place you went to with her sons. That day feels like eons ago but it’s been just over a month. 
The change feels all the more sudden after a lifetime of stagnancy. With your dad, every day blurred together, the constancy was as dull as it was oppressive. Yet, you mourn it all the same. The spontaneity and turbulence of your new existence proves just as paralysing at times. 
You may have gone from maid to fiancee, but it doesn’t dissolve your expected deference. You are marrying into the Odinsons, they have no need to ingratiate themselves to you. Even as the reminder of her elder son troubles you, you will not mention your worries aloud to the matriarch. 
Frigga orders a sparkling water with fruit, you ask for the same. The waitress is not subtle as she eyes your bandaged nose. Just another reason for you to feel out of place. It's tender but feels much better.
You peer up at the sky as you sit in the open patio and the scent of the curated flowers around the space wafts in the air. Your dress rustles and tickles your leg, causing you to flinch. Another flash of before. That day you ate with Thor at your side, his hand under the table... 
You shudder and blow away the memory. You reach for your water and sip as you look over the entrees. Your appetite is erratic. One second you’re ravenous, the next, nauseous. The tuna sounds good but sickening at once. You’ll get a salad. 
“We will have to plan an engagement party first. Perhaps a local venue for that,” she looks at her phone and turns it on its screen as you hear it buzzing. 
“Or the house? I thought... the gazebo...” 
“Mm, yes, I recall, what was the name of that contractor you hired? I wouldn’t mind a similar build back at our house. Oh, and perhaps if you did want to do the wedding at home as well, a wedding arch might be a thought. I’m certain a carpenter might be up to that task,” she continues, ignoring how her phone rattles her glass. “So, we’ll skip over venues then. But invitations, perhaps? Oo, do you have a dress in mind? A brunch or something in the evening?” 
You can hardly keep up with her questions. At least she offers distraction from the shadow looming over your shoulder. Both of them. If it isn’t one son, it’s the other. 
The waitress returns and you order. Frigga eyes you as she puts in for a monte cristo with the soup du jour. You try to smile. You’re tired. 
“Are you okay, dear? You’ve not been eating very much.” 
“Oh, haven’t I?” You squirm evasively. “I’m... fine, I guess I just have a lot on my mind.” 
“Oh, darling, forgive me if I am overloading you,” she fans herself with her hand, “I apologise. I’ve a bad habit of getting head over feet about these things. I have so many ideas all at once but if I sit still, I feel I might burst.” 
Her words call you back to Loki pacing and circling at the hotel, then at home, he manic muttering. 
“It’s alright. I don’t think of any of it. I don’t know where to begin,” you assure her. 
“Ah, well, yes, but I’ve had a wedding and my son’s had a wedding already,” she chuckles, “so I do have a bit more experience. You shouldn’t worry terribly if you have questions. I am simply here to guide you.” 
“I know--” 
Her phone shakes again and she sighs.  
“Pardon,” she tilts the phone up and you see the incoming call; Loki. She quickly turns off the ringer. “My, he is a pest. It cannot be that important--” 
“I don’t have my phone,” you say, “maybe he needs something.” 
“My son can wait. He is so selfish. Especially about you. Surely, he trusts his own mother,” she scoffs, “anyhow, I think a luncheon might be pleasant enough. Perhaps with a theme. Summer is here and the flowers will be lovely this time of season.” 
“Excuse me, miss,” the waitress comes up to the table, a cordless phone in her hand, “there’s a gentleman on the phone asking for you.” 
You frown at Frigga then glance up, realising the woman is speaking to you. You blink and take the phone from her. You put it to your ear, staring at Frigga. 
“Hello?” 
“Pet,” Loki bursts eagerly, “oh, I knew you’d be there. Yes, I only wanted to check in, hear your voice, but I couldn’t get through to mother.” 
“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, we were just ordering--” 
‘Give me the phone’ Frigga mouths and gestures. 
“I...” you begin and her green eyes flare. You hand over the phone. 
“Loki, this is not your time. You can wait. We are busy. You have a lovely day and we will be home in a few hours,” she says tritely, “certainly, you might find something to keep yourself busy.” 
She doesn’t wait for his response as she hits the end button and hands the phone back to the server, thanking her with a smile. The brunette flits away and you tap your fingers on the table top. Frigga plays with a wave and pushes it behind her ear, “darling, don’t even worry about my son. You just focus on yourself.” 
“Thank you, I just...” 
“You just don’t worry,” she repeats, “if my son has issue with us doing exactly as we told him we would, then he may take it up with me. Uh, he always was a needy little boy.” 
You almost laugh. You might agree with part of her sentiment but you could never imagine Loki as a little boy. In your mind, he just seems as if he’s always been grown. Not like you.  
You’ve always felt clueless and inadequate. As if you never moved past childhood, that you got caught behind some wall and watched the adults from afar. Yet, now that you’re on the other side, you still feel a barrier. Like them, but not the same. 
Not like the Odinsons especially. A family. You don’t have any of that. The more you think of the wedding, the more you see empty seats. No bridesmaids, not father-daughter dance, no one on your side. 
“Dear, have I upset you?” Frigga cuts the silence and you catch yourself staring at the table. 
You shake your head and sit up, “no, sorry, just thinking...” you scramble for a lie. You hate that you do that so often now, “what about a tea party?” 
“A tea party? Marvelous, I love it,” she trills, “oh, yes, we will have to find some fine porcelain for the event.” 
“Loki has lots--” 
“Yes, but this is special, dear. You’ll need a special set so you can always remember the party. Oh, and teas. There is a tea shop nearby. They sell loose leaf. We can have a whole array. Ooh, and biscuits, pastries...” she begins to list off. You let her, thankful to forget everything else for the minutest of details. Tea is easy. 
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absolutebl · 3 days
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This Week in BL - It's the Dog Days of BL Again
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
May 2024 Final Week
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 5 of 12 - The side couple is so damn pouty and adorable. So far as Yak and Dee are concerned, I love that they kept up with the cosplay stuff and didn’t just drop it as a one off. I'm just genuinely enjoying seeing how much fun they have together and watching them accidentally falling in love with each other and trying not to.
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Linguistic corner!
I don’t normally watch any BTS stuff, but for reasons known only to my serotonin-seeking brain, I’ve been watching a few for this show. And I MUST talk about the way Great speaks Thai. It’s so different from all of the other Good GMMTV Boys. He’s way more casual. Not rude, but definitely not as formal or as polite as any of the actors around him. It’s difficult to describe but just LISTEN to the way he hops registers and pronouns pretty consistently. Sometimes in the same sentence. He even softens his polite particles. I've never heard an actor do that out of character. It’s fascinating. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that he is older (then most of his costars) and comes outta the Bangkok club scene, and was older when he joined GMMTV. Frankly, it’s the closest I’ve ever seen on TV to the way people actually talked in Bangkok. 
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My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 eps - honestly these two shows are neck and neck for my favorites running right now and Wandee got the edge because it left me smiling, but yesterday, Stand-In would have come out on top. Such a great show. It’s so sinister. So not romantic. Which makes me feel like... it's not really a BL. And, yet, I DO NOT CARE. Because I’m enjoying its little evil soul so much. “Poor Joe” is pretty much all that goes through my head the whole time I'm watching, and I'm enjoying poking at that pain.
We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 9 of 16 - I love all of the 3rd wheels. Kluen is kinda great. And I’m not just saying that 'cause I have a crush on Title, it’s because Kluen is so open and genuine. (Unless they fuck up his character.) I even enjoyed the backstory for Fang and Tan. Honestly, the friendship group is the reason to watch this show, they’re great and funny, and make everything enjoyable. It’s a soap opera, like Only Friends, but gentle with its characters and us watchers. Which is what I really want from my BL. I don’t want all of this Friend Zone backstabbing bullpuckie. 
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Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - I like it, frankly more than I expected to. It’s a bit slow moving, but the characters are interesting and the dynamic of everybody living in the same house together is fun. I haven’t seen this style of housemates centered Thai BL in years. I identify FAR too closely with the crass-talking bug-killing pansexual. On a completely different note, I really hope Best and Seng have an NC scene together. Last week I would never have said that, but now I think they have good chemistry. Am I crazy?
Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 8 of 12 - They are sickeningly sweet boyfriends, and Moo is such a brat and so demanding. It’s charming. There was even a little bit of dancing together which I’m sure made @heretherebedork happy. Dancing okay but NO SINGING. 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Asami's past was cool to see. I enjoyed that his character finally got fleshed out and given some solidity. However, it felt like it came a little too late. Even though I know this is the way Japan tends to roll with BL timing. I wanted to like him sooner then this. Now I'm not really that invested.
Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 8 fin - It was an extremely good and very satisfying ending for a JBL, which we cannot expect, so I'm disposed to dole out top marks for that. Also we definitely have a new contender for Namgoong award for best wingman. (Japan's favorite: the bespectacled variant.)
Summation:
Kindly Ryota goes to uni and ends up rooming with his former childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend for, as it turns out, cute roommate reasons. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake, the framing is gorgeous and it is a stylish piece. As a friends to lovers cohabitation narrative this was a classic 2000s sweet yaoi. I enjoy that kind of tradition out of Japan even if it (and the characters) come off as a little slow as a result. Still, it's nice to get a traditional BL out of Japan that is satisfying, not slapstick, AND did not hurt us. 8/10 recommended
Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 5-6fin - gonna have to wait until next week, for mysterious hotel wifi reasons.
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It's airing but...
You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard.
The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS. How?
OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 2 of 10 - yeah I can't find it. Comments from last week suggest this is not my thing anyway, but Lee Long Shi very much IS my thing, so... maybe I'll put it on hold for a bit and y'all can let me know.
In case you missed
VBL (Taiwan) is released 'Special Episode' epilogues to their 4 2023 series on Gagaoolala, Viki & Viu - watch each on the respective shows' page: You Are Mine, VIP Only, Stay By My Side, Anti Reset.
My Biker 2 (Thai movie trailer) suposedly released somewhere, search me.
The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) went to theaters, not sure if we will get this, and it may not be BL.
And here's a 2023 that I missed and finally watched:
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After Sundown AKA Saengrawi
ZeeNunew vehicle from 2023, recut into a movie on YouTube. It's from Mandee and horror, yet I enjoyed it more than I thought I would.
Pronoun use is ter/chan or rao (no nai or pom) because of the historical setting + softness of the relationship.
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It's oddly sweet and wholesome, for a ghost story. Phloeng and Rawee enter into an arranged marriage for confusing prophetic reasons and a twisted fate, solving a mystery of the past that is haunting Phloeng's family and harming Rawee. Honestly, it makes no actual sense, but it's kinda historical, and very pretty, so I enjoyed it more than I should. 8/10
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Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
June Releases
6/7 My Love Mix-Up (Fridays Thai Adaptation not sure where this will air) - I do love G4 and I did like the original and maybe this time these characters will actually kiss? I'm actually fine with this pick-up. I kind of enjoy seeing different countries remake the same IP. Especially if it's IP I'm mostly unfazed by.
6/7 The Last Time (Thailand Fridays YouTube?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something?
6/9 Love Sea (Thailand Sundays MAME warning iQIYI - New characters to the Mameverse. While travelling, a writer has a one night stand with a very irritating man. YES I WILL TRASH WATCH THIS. Drinking will happen on Sundays I guess. (Look, I do usually travel on weekends, so it may end up being Monday Mame Trash - which jives.)
6/14 Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2 AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai 2 Haime! (Japan movie Gaga?) - Continues the (frankly) lackadaisical story from part 1.
6/15 Sunset Vibes AKA SunsetXVibes (Thailand Saturdays) Star Hunter and MosBank on iQIYI so if nothing else it's gonna be a wild and sexy ride. A one night stand but "uh-oh he’s my boss," adapted from a web series. I’m game. Maybe it’ll have a better story than Big Dragon? Maybe it will have a plot? We can but hope.
6/26 The Rebound (Thai Weds VIU?) - MeenPing are back in their 3rd BL together, a basketball based romance (Meen was a national basketball player, so yay for that). I like this pair better than most (I still do miss Meen with Est but Est has a fantastic looking new BL coming from GMMTV so yeah...) Anyway I'm up for a sports romance starring a man who, yah know, actually played that sport so... I'm game (pun intended).
(Speaking of, why can't Est be a merman? This... I ask you?.)
Why You? (Khmer movie - Billed as a horror romance BL this is supposed to release this month.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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In my world we call this smug. (Only Boo!)
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LOOK AT HIS ARM?! This has been your Goodness Gracious Great Guns Of Huge 2024 moment.
(All Wandee Goodday)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity
@rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.
There's these tricks, remember.
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neerons · 1 day
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Some of Gilbert von Obsidian's best quotes
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[Warning: Heavy spoilers about Gilbert's route]
"Ahaha, what is the prince of Obsidian, if not rotten?"
"I hate people."
"No matter how hard I try not to, I can't help but be gentle with her. What kind of villain am I?" (—Gilbert talking about Emma to himself)
"(...) I hope you don't accidentally end up calling me 'big bro' or anything." (—Gilbert to Leon)
"(...) You were just saying what you really think. I don't think doing that is rude. And it's true I'm someone scary."
"I like you because you're so warm, little rabbit."
"Ahaha! You're so sassy. But I like that about you."
"I want to make things awkward for you."
"You can't just focus on the best of someone while ignoring the worst of them."
"If you were a bother, I'd kill you, so don't worry." *smile intensifies*
"...I'm no match for that pure, innocent gaze of yours. You're the only one capable of pushing me around, you know."
"Depending on what you say next, I might just take your head clean off." (—Angry Gilbert to Emma)
"(...) You nearly died. ...Do you have any idea how much that chilled me to the core?"
"The only thing I can ever be for you is a villain. ...Unfortunately."
"...Thank you. I almost got murdered by some dust."
"If you keep on lying over and over about being fine, I might just... Well, you can guess, right?"
"I found it in a book in the little rabbit's room. They need to understand what happens to them if they try to interfere with what's mine... Don't they?" (—Gilbert talking about a poisoned needle targeting Emma to Roderic)
"You said it, remember? You said you wanted me to learn to love Rhodolite. To me, you are Rhodolite."
"Those born with status have the right to do whatever they like to those who are lesser than them. That's what you want to say, isn't it? (...) Hmm? What's that? You look a little distressed for some reason. But I suppose that's no surprise. You see, I have the right to tyrannize you however I please, just as you tyrannized those children who had no one to protect them. I'm imperial royalty, and you're just a third-rate aristocrat. So I'm going to have to teach you just how different our social positions are... Aren't I? (...) Aren't you lucky that we're in Rhodolite? You've narrowly escaped death. If this was Obsidian, you'd be dead for sure. After all, we have no need for disgusting nobles who defile the purity of children." (—Gilbert to a Baron of Rhodolite)
"Wait, so you're telling me you baked cookies for another man, even though I'm right here. Ouch, that hurts."
"(...) if by chance I run into your dear papa, he'll kill me." (—Gilbert talking about Akatsuki)
"Welcome to Obsidian. (...) I introduced myself as Gilbert von Obsidian, didn't I? There's only one person in this country allowed to use the Obsidian name. And that's the emperor."
"There's nothing about you or me that makes one of us intrinsically inferior or superior to the other. Humans are all basically the same. And naturally, from a societal perspective, we probably need people who can take the lead. People who are capable, and talented, who can bring others together, and build a better tomorrow. That's a healthy way to be. I'm the ruler of a country that knows deception and decay all too well, so I understand better than most. That's why my ideal, my ambition, is to conquer all the royalty that have infested this whole continent, and free the people who are under their control."
"I wrote that story based on you. (...) Akatsuki told me a lot of stories about you, and they were always stories about you showing love and affection for others. He made it sound like you believed that the true nature of people is love, and that the happiness of others was what made you the happiest. The idea of living like that was repulsive to me, but at the same time, it made me curious. I got to wondering what sort of choices you'd make, if you were in the same position I was."
"You were bullying small children to amuse yourselves. That Rhodolitian might have stopped at just punching you, but I'm not that kind. Did I make military regulations or didn't I? And do those regulations say attacking non-combattants is forbidden, or don't they?" (—Gilbert to Obsidianite soldiers)
"Then how about you call me papa?" (—Gilbert to Luke)
"...Don't go. (...) I don't know... if I can hold on... until you get back. Being on my own... is lonely..."
"...You're the only one I'll ever love."
"I'm taking your daughter." *smile intensifies* (—Gilbert to Akatsuki)
"I'm not oppressing you with my power, it's just my love for you, overflowing."
"You can't do things like this with other men... Unless you want to see dead bodies."
"You're liked by everybody. A lot of the princes helped you out today. That's because people adore you, and they naturally want to help you out. They're all beasts with strong characters, but you're important to all of them. Do you know how rare that is? That means you're charming to everyone you meet. ...Including me, of course."
"There's no way I'd ever let anyone else kill you. It has to be me."
"I can't just bare my body for free."
"I've never liked seeing you clothe your body in things that other people have put their hands all over."
"Don't force yourself to talk. I'm not so narrow-minded that I'll go around saying you're disrespectful just because you didn't thank me. You're sick; you're supposed to just drink medicine and sleep."
"Wah, boohoo. I can't believe we were on different pages this whole time. I've given you my entire heart, and yet, look at what you've done with it! (...) Waaah, I'm so heartbroken that the only thing that could bury my sadness is world domination!"
"For his sake, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear him call me 'eyepatch bastard'. Rude." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Silvio)
"Her ability to right what was wrong, purify what was once sullied... It runs at complete odds with my nature. I may have truly met my match." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)
"I blinked a few times as my vision seemed to expand all at once... and the little rabbit become clearer and even more beautiful." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)
"I'm never letting you go. If you run away from me, I'll conquer the whole world and follow you to the ends of the earth if that's what it takes. No wait... I just need to control your heart, so that you'll never even want to leave me." (—Gilbert's thoughts about Emma)
"We all approach life differently. Chevalier slices hearts in two. I trample on them. But, you... You respect them."
"I wanted to see you bawling your eyes out."
"You're... the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"I like the little rabbit very much, you see. So I certainly hope that bold declaration of yours doesn't end up turning into a lie." (—Gilbert to Silvio, in Silvio's route)
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thedeathdeelers · 1 day
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i’m rewatching lovely runner from ep 1 because that’s just. who i am now, and just within the first 5 minutes im already. like…😀
when the radio mc excitedly tells sol she’s won a pair of running shoes so she can enjoy them in this lovely weather, everyone claps except for sunjae.
he looks..:empty
and when sol replies with a “i don’t need that” he doesn’t even flinch it’s like he’s just. not there. he’s too far gone to react anymore because of how much the guilt and despair has already eaten at him all he can do is listen to her vent and accept the role he’s played in the situation she’s in and uhhhh. yeah
and when the radio show host asks her what else she might want? sunjae’s eyes kinda flitting from side to side like he’s desperately trying to think of what she might want? what she might like or need? like he could gift her something that maybe just maybe could help her feel a little better??
but then she explodes on them and all he can do is listen again with his head bowed, while the others are sat there looking shocked
and the only time he finally reacts and moves into action is when she’s done talking, hinting at not wanting to see another day, and throws her phone away
he JUMPS to the microphone, asking if she’s still there if she’s still listening- and finally says his piece, begging her to keep going to see the beauty in the world even when it’s looking bleak cause the sun will eventually shine again- to just hang in there if not for her then for her loved ones and those who love her (himself included)
he’s asking her to keep going for her family and friends and for him
anyway i’m normal about this scene lmao it’s fine.
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gotham--fc · 2 days
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Famille - A Marie-Philip Poulin Imagine
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Not requested! R is 16 and gets her first call up to Team Canada and Poulin takes her under her wing
This is probably the first in a series about baby!r and moms!poulin and stacey, this one is more pou focused but there's some stacey moments in there too, hope you enjoy!
Words: 5k
“Couple of new names on this roster,” Laura says. Pou hums distractedly. Laura walks over to where Pou is sitting and leans over the back of the couch to see what her fiancée is watching on her phone. It’s a blurry video of some hockey game.
“What are you watching?” Laura asks, wrapping her arms around Pou from behind.
“That girl, number 17, she’s on the roster.”
“Yeah, what about her? Is she good?”
Pou shifts a little on the couch.
“She’s 16,” Pou says, “She’s still in high school.”
“Right,” Laura says, realizing who “that girl” is, “She’s the one who’s younger than you were when you made your debut, right? By a few months?” Pou nods. “Everyone rates her really highly, do you remember if she’s committed to any colleges yet?”
“BU,” Pou says, “She… She’s so young. I was terrified when I got called up. So much pressure…”
“But you were okay, once you got there you were fine,” Laura says, “Everyone was nice to you and made it easier. We’re all gonna do that for her too, for all the rookies. We’re not monsters, we’ll make everyone feel welcomed.”
“Yeah…” Pou says, “I know we will.”
***
Laura doesn’t think much about their conversation until later.
When camp begins, Pou always waits in the hotel lobby for all the rookies. She’s the captain and she takes her role seriously and she feels it’s important to meet everyone and make sure they’re settling in well. She makes sure everyone has their room assignments and that they’re okay with who they’re rooming with.
For their first camp, the team always makes sure a rookie is rooming with a vet. It makes the transition easier, helps them get the hang of things, and get involved with team things. Laura doesn’t really check the room assignments, except her own (she’s with Blayre). Laura waits with Pou while she waits for the rookies and helps direct them to their rooms and the gym and the conference room where the team meetings will be held.
She sees that rookie, the young one, come in and Pou beelines for her. She watches the girl’s face go through shock, excitement, nervousness, all the emotions a 16-year-old has meeting Marie-Philip Poulin. She checks the sheet and almost laughs when she sees the girl’s rooming with Pou. Of course she is. Laura should know her fiancée better to know that she wouldn’t let something go once it gets in her head.
***
“Hello,” Pou says to the girl, who looks lost in the hotel. She looks at Pou and her eyes widen almost comically. “I’m Marie-Philip Poulin, we’re rooming together this camp. How are you feeling? Was the travel okay?”
“Um,” Y/N says, “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Pou has been told, rather teasingly, from Emma Maltais that people don’t shake hands anymore, so she doesn’t offer her hand to Y/N. Instead, she reaches out and pats her on the shoulder.
“You’re the last arrival,” Pou says. Y/N’s face drops.
“Oh no, is that bad? Am I late?”
“Non, non, you’re fine!” Pou is quick to reassure, “You had a later flight, that’s all. Come on, I’ll show you to our room.”
***
Y/N is nervous, that Pou can tell easily. It’s understandable, anyone would be nervous in her situation. Pou can see the way she picks at her nails, how her hands shake slightly as she takes the room key Pou hands her. Pou wants to be able to take her nervousness away, but she can’t. She can’t make the transition easier, she can’t make her stop worrying.
What Pou can do is be there. She hangs around their shared room while Y/N unpacks. She takes Y/N around the hotel, running into their other teammates and introducing them. She wants Y/N to go into the first practice knowing everyone.
It doesn’t seem to help. Y/N still seems as nervous, if not more, than when she first arrived. It’s not what Pou wants, and she thinks she knows what can help.
“There’s a public rink that’s not far,” Pou says, “If you want to, uh, stretch your legs after the flight.”
Y/N’s shoulders sag in relief.
***
The rink is not very far from the hotel, only a few blocks. It’s not super busy, but there’s still other people there. They don’t bring any of their gear with them, just their skates, and Pou brings a toque with her that she pulls low over her ears to try and get people not to recognize her.
(It doesn’t work.)
They skate around, not really talking for the first bit. Pou lets Y/N have a few laps, waits for her shoulders to drop completely, before she speeds up to skate side by side.
“You beat me,” Pou says, “You’re younger than I was when I made my debut,” Pou continues when Y/N gives her a confused look. “You beat my record.”
“I guess so,” Y/N says, “But just because I’m here doesn’t mean I’ll play.”
“Coach doesn’t call players up if he doesn’t intend to play them.”
Y/N doesn’t answer right away.
“You are very skilled,” Pou says, “You’re going to have a very good career. Maybe even better than mine.” Y/N scoffs. “It’s true!” Pou insists, “I’ve seen you play, you’re the best player on the ice no matter who you play with.”
“Yeah with the U18s,” Y/N shakes her head, “With my high school team. That’s hardly that impressive.”
“It’s impressive to me,” Pou says honestly, “I don’t want you to underestimate yourself. You might not find it very impressive, but I do and I’m happy that you’re here.”
Y/N doesn’t answer and they skate the rest of their time in silence.
***
At first, Pou can’t tell why she’s awake. All she knows is she doesn’t have to be up yet, and she wants to go back to sleep. Before she can, she hears sharp sniffles coming from the bed beside hers. She looks over, but it’s too dark to see, but she can definitely hear that Y/N is crying. She flips on the lamp beside her bed. Y/N startles, and tries to quickly wipe her face.
“Are you okay?” Pou asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Y/N says, her voice thick and nasally from her tears.
Pou’s heart breaks. She can remember her first camp, and crying alone in her bed and hoping her roommate wouldn’t wake up. She remembers feeling lost and out of place and missing home and feeling like she’s made the biggest mistake of her life. She gets out of bed and climbs in beside Y/N. She rubs between Y/N’s shoulder blades. Y/N freezes for a moment, then relaxes into the touch.
“I was terrified when I was your age,” Pou says, “I got on the ice for my first practice with the team and everyone skated, uh, round, uh, shapes around me.”
“Circles?”
“Oui,” Pou says, “Circles. And I felt out of place and like I wasn’t ready to be here. I cried too. My roommate was a heavy sleeper, so she didn’t wake up. I thought I had ruined my hockey career before it even started. But then I got better. I played better. And I made friends on the team.”
“Yeah, but you’re you,” Y/N says, “You’re, like, the greatest ever. I don’t think I’m ever gonna play like you. I just want to go home.”
“I know, patate,” Pou says, “I promise that everything will be alright. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t deserve to be.”
Y/N doesn’t say anything. Pou thinks back to their practice earlier.
“In our scrimmage today,” Pou says, “You passed to me, near the end, and I missed the net. That was one of the best passes I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know if you thought I missed because the pass wasn’t good, but I missed because I was tired and I was ready to be done practicing, so I wasn’t trying very hard. It was an amazing pass and you were so smart and so skilled to get past the defender and get that pass off. I was very impressed with you today.”
“Do you mean that?” Y/N asks in a small voice.
“Oui, I will never lie to you.”
Y/N falls asleep with her head resting in Pou’s lap, and Pou stays up the rest of the night, making sure she sleeps okay, and planning how to get her to see how amazing everyone else can see that she is.
***
Pou doesn’t want to be overbearing. She doesn’t want Y/N to feel pressured or overwhelmed. She also doesn’t want the girl to become too attached to her and then never make friends with their other teammates. She also doesn’t want to back off too much and make Y/N think Pou doesn’t like her, or is upset with her. It’s a tough balance.
On the bus, Pou sits with Laura because she always does, and she watches Y/N to see who she’ll sit with. Everyone has their usual seatmates and Pou understands that, but she doesn’t want Y/N to sit alone.
“I won’t be mad,” Laura whispers.
“What?”
“If you go sit with her,” Laura says, “I won’t be mad. I know you want to.”
“I don’t want her to sit alone,” Pou says, “She probably doesn’t want to sit with me. I’m just waiting to see who will sit with her.”
It’s Erin Ambrose who ends up sitting with her and Pou breathes a sigh of relief when Y/N doesn’t immediately shy away. Erin has that effect on people, she can make anyone feel at ease with her. Pou doesn’t watch them the whole bus ride, but she knows Laura spends more time talking to herself than to Pou. She can’t help it, she didn’t expect to feel so protective and caring over Y/N, but she does and she needs to make sure Y/N’s okay.
***
They play a couple of games this camp, against the US, because of course they do and Pou takes on her ‘captain’ role: making sure the rookies feel prepared, making sure everyone else feels prepared, watching more than enough film for the whole team herself, making sure she has the scouting report for every player on the US roster in case anyone has questions.
Two days before the game, in the quiet of their room after lights out, Y/N whispers:
“I don’t think I’ll dress. I don’t think coach will dress me.”
“Y/N,” Pou rolls over and can barely make out Y/N’s outline in the other bed, “Y/N,” she says again when Y/N doesn’t react the first time. She doesn’t react again, but Pou knows she’s not asleep. “You are a better player than you give yourself credit for. You have done very well this camp and you’ve earned your spot.”
Y/N doesn’t respond and Pou lets it go. She stays awake until she’s sure Y/N’s asleep, and then she stays up for a little longer to make sure Y/N’s sleeping peacefully.
The day before the game, Y/N hovers around their room after they wake up. Pou goes through her morning routine and prepares to head down to breakfast, but Y/N’s still in her pyjamas, sitting on her bed, staring at the wall.
“Y/N?” Pou asks, “Are you okay?” Y/N shrugs. Pou sits on the bed beside her. “What’s going on?”
“Can we go to that rink? The one we went to before?”
“Of course, mon petite lapinou,” Pou says, “After we eat, then we can go. Sound good?” Y/N nods.
Pou takes her normal spot at breakfast beside Laura. She leans over and kisses her, ignoring their teammates’ teasing. Pou is resolutely ignoring everyone else, when Laura nudges her. Pou looks up from her scrambled eggs and gives Laura a look that says what? I’m eating, and Laura nods her head to Pou’s other side. Y/N approaches, holding her breakfast in her hands. She walks up to Pou’s side.
“Can I sit here?” Y/N asks quietly.
“Oui, yes, of course,” Pou shifts so Y/N actually has space to sit beside her.
Pou’s a little surprised. Y/N normally sat with the other rookies, or at least with the younger girls. Pou takes a quick look and there’s empty seats at the other tables, so it’s not like Y/N didn’t have options. Jenner raises her eyebrows a little towards Y/N when she joins them, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Excited for the game tomorrow?” Erin Ambrose claps Y/N on the shoulder. Y/N seems to shrink into herself, her head dropping to her chest.
“Hey,” Laura interrupts before anyone can say anything else, “Jenny, didn’t you tell me you had a cute vid of June to show me?”
It’s a good distraction, Jenner is always down to gush about her kids, a million pictures and videos ready in her camera roll to show anyone who’s willing, and Ambrose can’t help but lean over too to see the video Jenner’s showing Laura. It gives Pou the chance to turn to Y/N without everyone else listening in.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Y/N says before Pou can say anything.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Pou says.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Y/N says, almost pleadingly.
“Alright,” Pou turns back to her own breakfast, “You can talk to me about anything, when you’re ready,” Pou adds quickly.
Y/N eats in silence, the rest of the table leaving her be, either because they realize they should, or because Pou gives them a look when they go to talk to Y/N. When Pou finishes eating, she looks over and sees Y/N’s plate is empty too.
“You wanna go?” Pou asks. Y/N nods quickly.
They head to the public rink they went to before and it’s open, but it’s much quieter than when they were there before, most of the public not going skating this early in the morning. They skate a few laps, Y/N a few strides ahead of Pou. After a few laps, Y/N stops and turns around and Pou stops with her. Y/N’s eyes are filled with tears.
“I’m so scared,” Y/N says, “I feel like I’m gonna screw it all up. I don’t know what to do.”
Pou doesn’t hesitate to pull Y/N into her arms. Y/N hugs Pou back tightly and Pou shushes her as her shoulders shake. Pou waits for Y/N’s sobs to have lessened to a few sniffles.
“I know it’s scary, and I don’t blame you for what you feel,” Pou says, “What you’re doing is very hard and it’s very scary, and it’s also very impressive. It’s easy to feel like you’re not good enough, but you have to understand that you are sixteen, and this is your first time with us and most of us have been on the team for years and we’ve played at the highest level for years. None of that means we’re better than you, it means we have more experience and that we’re better at hiding what we really feel. I still feel terrified before a big game. At the Olympics I still feel the way I did at my first one, I just hide it better now. Everyone feels the way you do, and that’s okay.”
“I thought it was supposed to get better,” Y/N’s voice is muffled in Pou’s shoulder.
“It does. You get more experience, you learn what to do to calm yourself down, you learn to lean on your teammates and your friends and your family when you need to. You learn that a dumb friendly against the US is not an Olympic final, and you learn to find the joy in it all. I know you’re afraid that you’re going to mess up and that coach will think you’re not good enough for the team, and I am here to tell you that won’t happen. I’ve seen you play with the U18s and in high school and I’ve seen you play with us. You are very skilled and you have nothing to worry about. You’re going to make mistakes, you’re going to take dumb penalties, you’re going to miss a shot or a pass or someone is going to skate around you and make you look silly, and that’s okay because none of that means you’re a bad player or that you don’t deserve to be here. If you didn’t deserve to be here you wouldn’t be here.”
Y/N doesn’t respond, but Pou knows she’s just processing what Pou said. They stand in the middle of the ice, holding each other, the few others there ignoring them. After a little bit, Y/N pulls back and wipes her face.
“What did you call me this morning? Um, like, petite, uh.”
“Lapinou,” Pou answers, “It means little bunny.”
“Because I’m small?”
“Non,” Pou laughs, “Because you’re young and you’re like a bunny on the ice. You have so much energy and you’re very fast. Like a bunny.”
Y/N smiles softly, and she taps Pou’s side with her fist lightly.
“Thanks,” Y/N says and Pou knows she’s not talking about the nickname anymore.
***
Game day begins the same way that any game day does. Team breakfast, pregame team meeting, a few hours of free time, then team bus ride to the arena for a pregame skate, and another team meeting, and then it’s game time.
A lot of the team has very specific pregame rituals, and Pou lets them do their thing. Pou gets herself game ready, she thinks through all the ways the game could go and how she should react and respond to it. She doesn’t let herself focus too hard on what ifs before they happen, but she likes to be prepared for everything.
Y/N doesn’t have a pregame ritual, which Pou can understand, because she didn’t have one either when she was 16. When Pou asks her what she normally does before a game, Y/N shrugs and says she does whatever the rest of her team does. Pou expects her to go find someone else to hang out with, since Pou knows she’s not that fun to hang out with. Instead, Y/N stays, and she asks Pou to talk her through what she’s thinking, and Pou finds herself going over the game with Y/N.
When it’s time to leave, the team heads onto the bus. Y/N gets pulled into a lively discussion with the Gosling cousins as Pou sits next to Laura. Pou can’t help but keep an eye on Y/N, making sure she’s okay and that the girls aren’t overwhelming her. Pou barely glances away when Clark says something to her and Pou blushes and tries to ignore the knowing look Laura gives her.
The game starts fast and rough like it always does. Both teams come out firing right from the gate and each team is trying to suss out the refs and see how much they can get away with without a call, so there’s always some hard hits before the game settles some. Pou did her best to prepare the rookies for it, so that no one’s caught off guard the first time they go crashing into the boards.
Pou watches from the bench as Y/N’s line skates down the ice. Neither team has gotten into a rhythm yet, the puck switching possession in the neutral zone, one or two players breaching the offensive zone to get a half-hearted shot off before the defense swarms them. Y/N races for a puck that’s been sent deep into the zone with Megan Keller hot on her tail. Pou holds her breath as she waits for the inevitable collision at the boards, and then Y/N eases up. For a second, Pou wants to swear. Y/N’s going to get ripped into by their coach if she keeps backing off plays. But then, as soon as Keller gets past her, Y/N picks up speed again, surprising Keller and shoving her off the puck and taking it herself. She takes a look on the ice and passes it into the slot to Danielle Serdachney who slides it past Frankel.
Pou jumps out of her seat. She joins her teammates as they bang on the boards in celebration. Dachs skates past the bench for fist bumps and Y/N does too with the rest of the players on the ice. They head onto the bench and the next line comes out onto the ice. Pou grabs Y/N as soon as she’s close enough.
“Bravo, mon petite lapinou! That was such a smart play,” Pou praises. Y/N looks up at her, a bashful look on her face.
“Really? You think so?”
Pou is struck again by how young she is. She looks younger like this, sitting on the bench with Pou standing over her, in her gear and cage, face red from exertion, and looking like she almost can’t believe Pou thinks she did well. Pou leans down so their helmets knock together lightly.
“Every time you step on the ice I find something else about you to be impressed by. I’m so proud of you.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkle under the praise and the grin doesn’t leave her face for the rest of the game.
***
The next game is a few days later. They spend those days recovering, and then revving themselves back up. They watch film, address what went well in the last game and what didn’t, and working to improve on their game. Pou thought that Y/N’s performance in the last game would assuage her doubts, but she finds that she’s wrong.
“Are you excited to start university?” Pou asks, seeing Y/N filling out scholarship paperwork. She knows college is two years away, but she also knows that colleges want things done early, they want commitment on paper early. Y/N shrugs.
“I guess.”
“You don’t sound very excited.”
“I just…” Y/N tugs her hood over her head, “I don’t think I’ll play much. I like the school and I like the coach and… There’s just so many players, better than me, and I think I’ll ride the bench. I just want to play hockey."
"Of course you’ll play! No team would even dream of benching you,” Pou says, “They recruited you because they want you and you provide something they don’t have.”
“I’ve never played with college players before,” Y/N says, “I’ve only played with the U18s, and in high school. I’m going to get destroyed out there.”
“You played with us,” Pou puts her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and looks her in the eye, “You made the senior national team at sixteen, and you made your debut and you got an assist. You played so well–”
“I got lucky,” Y/N interrupts, “That wasn’t skill.”
“That wasn’t luck! You played so well because you are so skilled and so talented. One day you will see how good you are and you will appreciate the opportunities you’ve been given, and until you do I will be here to remind you that you are so wonderful and amazing and you deserve all the good things you have.”
Pou doesn’t know how long it will take to get Y/N to fully believe her, but she’s willing to remind the young girl every opportunity she has until it sinks in.
***
The game is rough from the start. Coming off a loss, the US is hungry for an early goal and to disrupt Canada as much as they can. Pou can feel her own frustration building, but she forces herself to push it down and keep her focus. It doesn’t do anyone any good for her to lose her head because the other team is chippy.
Pou does her best to calm the team down. Most of the vets don’t need her help, but some of them and the rookies Pou can tell are letting the game get to them. She mimes deep breaths, she tells them all to take their frustrations out on the scoreboard, to get even by scoring and winning, not taking silly penalties and giving up opportunities.
The US scores early. It sucks and it’s off a stupid mistake, a wayward pass that landed right in the path of Grace Zumwinkle, and Pou can see the frustration, disbelief, and disappointment on Ella Shelton’s face. Pou grabs her before she skate to the bench, almost before the puck has even fully crossed the line.
“You’re fine, it was a mistake, let it go and keep pushing. We’ll get it back and we’ll get the win.”
Ella nods and Pou doesn’t let go until she unclenches her jaw.
“Yeah, we’ve got this.”
***
Pou isn’t on the ice when it happens. She’s on the bench, breathing hard after a tough shift and watching Y/N skate after the puck. Pou is immensely proud of the young girl, she’s made a name for herself and a place on the roster and any fears or doubts she has disappear when she steps on the ice. Pou’s eyes follow her, and she watches Y/N pick up a loose puck and skate quickly around the US defenders and get a breakaway on goal. Pou’s half on her feet before Y/N even takes the shot, and the bench yells when her shot gets blocked by the goalie. Y/N gets one whack at the rebound before the puck gets covered and Pou watches a US player shove Y/N in the back and she sprawls forward onto the ice.
“Hey!” Pou screams, her arms up. The rest of the bench screaming with her.
It’s not even a second after that Laura appears beside the US players and grabs her around the neck and pulls her back. Laura doesn’t let go, holding her and yelling in her face, and all the players on the ice get into it. The refs blow their whistle and start pulling players back. Players break off and skate to the bench while the refs debate over what the calls should be. Laura gets dragged to the bench by her teammates because she’s still yelling at the refs and the entire American bench.
“Fucking bitch,” Laura mutters when she gets to the bench. Pou laughs at her fiancée and taps her helmet. Pou goes over to Y/N and compliments her on the play. Y/N grins as she takes the compliment and Pou can hear the excitement in her voice.
Pou jumps off the bench when the refs leave their huddle, going over as captain to get an explanation, giving a nod to Knight when she gets there. The refs tell them that both players committed penalties, so they’re determining them incidental and letting them go, rather than playing four on four. Pou tries to argue that Laura’s wasn’t a penalty, that she was preventing the US player from injuring their player, but the refs won’t hear it. Pou goes back to the bench to relay the message. Laura is still ranting.
“Laura,” Pou says in amusement, “Are you trying to get a penalty?”
“Did you see what happened? That was such a dangerous play, she had two hands on her,” Laura mimes the shove, “Two hands!”
Pou shakes her head and skates to the face off circle, leaving Laura ranting to whoever is unfortunate enough to be left on the bench with her.
***
In the dying minutes of the third, they’re tied, 2-2, and Pou is getting herself ready for overtime. It’s never a good idea to plan ahead in sports, but overtime is a completely different ball game than regulation, and it’s a different mentality and Pou knows she needs to be ready from the jump against a team like the US.
It doesn’t matter though, because with 30 seconds left Canada has a mix up with their shifts and they’re almost caught out, until Y/N jumps off the bench amidst the confusion and steals the puck off the American’s stick. She streaks through center ice, past the defenders and it’s a one-on-two, Y/N in alone, and Pou expects her to dump it deep and let the team get situated, but she doesn’t. She moves outside then cuts inside, clearing just enough of a lane to rip a shot on net. Pou doesn’t realize what’s happened, until the buzzer sounds and the ref is pointing at the net and Pou realizes Y/N just fucking scored. She watches Y/N skate quickly past the net and leap into the boards. The rest of the team on the ice swarms her and when they skate past the bench everyone slaps Y/N’s hands while she laughs.
There’s only a few seconds left in the game and Pou goes out for the face off and then the buzzer sounds and even though it's just a friendly, it sure feels like one of the biggest games the team has played.
Back in the locker room, Y/N is given the game puck for her first goal. The team cheers loudly for her and then someone, Clarky, Pou thinks, starts chanting speech.
“Uh,” Y/N starts, “Thanks, I guess. I would thank my assisters, but they’re in the other locker room, so.”
The room erupts again, with cheers and laughs and Emma grabs Y/N around the waist and hoists her in the air and Y/N’s squeal is drowned out by cheering.
Later that night, after the celebrations are over and the team remembers they have early morning recovery and everyone is back in their rooms for the night, Pou comes out of the bathroom to see Y/N sitting on her bed, staring at the game puck in her hands with a smile.
"Congratulations patate,” Pou says, “Your first goal.”
“Yeah,” Y/N says quietly.
“I’m proud of you,” Pou says earnestly, “You’ve done so well for yourself.”
Pou continues getting ready for bed, reminding Y/N that she does too. Reluctantly, Y/N puts the puck down and digs her pyjamas out of her suitcase. Pou waits for Y/N to be back in bed before she shuts the lights off and climbs into bed herself.
***
Later, when the team is saying goodbye and everyone is departing for the airport, Pou and Laura are waiting in the hotel lobby for their ride to the airport. Pou smiles when Y/N comes to join them. Y/N’s flight is later, but Pou’s glad for the chance to say a real goodbye before she leaves. Y/N hugs Laura first, only whining a little when Laura ruffles her hair.
“Can I come visit you in Montreal?” Y/N asks, “Over the summer, once school’s done?”
“Of course you can, mon petite lapinou,” Pou says, “You’re always welcome.”
Y/N hugs Pou tight.
“You can call me whenever you want, I don’t care what time it is. I’ll always be here for you,” Pou whispers.
“Thanks, mama.”
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noyasmashing · 19 hours
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If it isn't too much trouble, may I request mad dog with a nerdy reader. In public they have scary dog privileges but in private he becomes such a whiny puppy who doesnt know how to ask for master/mommy to touch him? No hurt feelings if you don't want too, I just don't see enough of him being a sub. Thank you!
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CW: names such as pup and mommy are used, semi public, praise, hand jobish??
A/N: i’m so sorry this took so long 😭 tbh i have no excuse
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he would be suchhhh a grouch in public. Picture yourselves on the public train together. He's casting menacing glares at anyone who dares to glance your way, positioning himself protectively in front of you. Meanwhile, you're engrossed in your book, wearing a delighted expression that's impossible to hide.
And when you venture out together (a rarity in itself), despite your occasional awkwardness, you effortlessly connect with others over obscure subjects, radiating joy and warmth. Kentaro, on the other hand, stands by your side, arms folded, engaging only with you.
Its quite endearing how different you two are-personality wise. People often wonder why you're with such a seemingly grumpy individual, but they don't see the tender side he reveals to you. He's incredibly sweet and attentive, always accompanying you to your favorite bookstores for the latest releases. Despite his aversion to socializing, he willingly joins you for coffee outings.
What may be the most adorable thing about him, is his sudden shyness in private. Suddenly, he's flushed red, stumbling over his words, nervously fidgeting with his hands, unsure where to place them.
He gives up any ounce of control easily, falling to his knees at your request. Your favorite thing is making him work for his pleasure. He knows what he wants. He wants to cum until he can't think. But he doesn't know how to ask.
Recently, you'd discovered a new favorite pastime: teasing Kentaro in public. There was nothing quite like watching him squirm as he struggled to maintain his tough exterior, only to be undone by his own pent-up desire.
It was a simple matter to get him riled up. A strategically timed pause to admire a book cover, a suggestive lick of a lollipop, or a deliberate lean forward to show off your cleavage would send him into a tailspin. His eyes would flash with desire, his face would redden, and his lips would tremble.
But the best part was the moment he'd snap, his eyes pleading for mercy as he grabbed at your shirt, his voice barely above a whisper. "P-please… y-you… I need y-you…"
You'd feign innocence, playing dumb as you led him on a merry chase. "Hmm? Need me to what, Kentaro?" You'd ask, looking up at him with a concerned expression. He'd hesitate, his words faltering as he scanned the empty store for an escape route. "You know.." He'd mutter, gaze low and hands sweating.
Finally you relented, firmly grasping his cheeks, directing his gaze toward the family bathroom that was tucked away but still in sight of you two. "That'll work yeah?" you inquired, locking eyes with his widened ones, before proceeding toward the bathroom. "What if someone sees us?" he'd nervously stammer, but still following closely behind you.
You'd simply smile, your eyes glinting with mischief. "It makes it more exciting, Kentaro."
Once inside, you'd press your lips against his, drawing out a soft groan as he struggled to keep up. But you were just getting started, taking a seat on the bench, beckoning him closer.
"Y-you want to do it here?" He'd ask, his voice laced with anxiety.
You'd bat your eyelashes, playing innocent once more. "Do what puppy?"
Being the nervous dog he is, he'd trail off, his face flushing with embarrassment as he stumbled forward. You'd laugh at his shyness, running your hands up his shirt and down his stomach as he stood in front of you.
"P-please… touch me," he'd beg, his voice cracking as he dropped his head in shame.
You'd toy with him, running your fingers over his hips as he squirmed beneath your touch. "I am touching you, baby," you'd purr, but he wasn't having it.
He needed something more – something that would make him feel like he was truly alive. And so, he forced out the words: "My c-cock., touch my cock, mommy"
Your eyes lit up with amusement and a hint a sadism, unzipping his pants and pulling his underwear down without hesitation. "That's all you had to say puppy." You'd coo, while wrapping your fingers around his hardened member. It boasted a rather prominent vein tracing its length, accompanied by a slight curve that he found rather embarrassing.
You couldn't resist the urge to tease him with gentle strokes that coaxed a soft whimper from his lips. Spitting into your free hand, he'd gasp at your boldness, wanting to say something. But words quickly faded in his mouth when you smeared it long his length, making him throw his head. He'd look up at you, pleading for more, but you'd merely smile wickedly and instruct him to "be a good boy and fuck yourself with my hand."
Immediately, he would protest with a whiney, "noo I-I can't" his inexperience evident in his hesitant tone. But as you met his gaze with a firm, expectant look, his hesitation gave way to an exploratory thrust. With the help of your praise, he'd slowly become more comfortable with your embarrassing request.
As he quickened his pace, his breath would catch in his throat, his member pulsing in your hand. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and his thrusts became more erratic, your seductive voice making it harder for him to stay steady. His usually narrow eyes seemed to be welling up with emotion, and his face flushed.
Your other hand grasped the soft skin of his hips, guiding him into a harsher rhythm. He let out a loud, desperate moan, forgetting their surroundings as he succumbed to his pleasure.
Useless pleas would tumble from his lips, but you refused to indulge them, instead, instructing him to "show that pretty tongue, baby." He had no choice but to obey, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, coated with saliva as he reveled in embarrassment.
He'd pant and whine, his red tip darted back and forth between your hand, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and shame. "M-mama, I'm close.. gunna cum.. c-cum, cum all over," he'd babble, his movements becoming more frenzied by the second.
Your grip tightening around his member, moving and twisting in tandem with his thrusts would send him over the edge. He'd cum with a loud, broken moan, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he convulsed in your grip.
His body felt shaky and weak, his legs trembling beneath him. You stroked him through the aftershocks, praising him as he sat down, still flushed from his climax.
"You did such a good job, pup," you'd coo, making him blush once more. "Just sit there and look pretty for me and I'll get you allll cleaned up."
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jophiel-extras · 1 day
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summary :: hot and bothered wandering thanks to AM
warning :: nsfw, aphrodisiac use, flirting asf, fem reader, reader and Ellen got it on
note :: hello AM lovers 👋 reqs open
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Mental and physical torture didn’t compare to the special kind of abuse AM had been putting you through for the past week.
He hadn’t cut up your feet and made you walk for miles, nor had he starved you with mirages of glorious food. No, not you. His favourite.
AM had kept a special genre of torture just for you.
He’d silently offered you a bar of chocolate. The first piece of food you'd seen in months. You should've know that it would come at a price, however you'd never been starved for so long and you never could've expected the chocolate had been drizzled with synthetic aphrodisiacs.
For days you had needed and ached.
Even more, AM had separate you from the rest. If only Ellen was with you, she’d help. Or Ted, Gorrister. Fuck, you’d even settle for Benny.
You’d kept up a limping pace, attempting to walk off your unbelievable horniness, but the exercise hardly took your mind away from the throbbing of your core. You were hot, sweaty and flustered. Filled with unsightly thoughts and feelings. No amount of walking (or running) had done away with your incredible lust.
You stumbled to a stop and began slipping your hand south. You just needed a release, one. You puffed, hand turning into a fist before it reached the line of underwear. No, AM would not be getting his sick show from you.
And as though he'd lingered in your mind, AM's booming voice carved through the barren landscape.
"Oh, don't let me stop you. Continue, please." He'd learned to imitate a gentleman awfully well. As much as you hated the need that choked your core you couldn't help but buckle at the knees from his rough voice. "If only I had a body, I'd help you out." Sickeningly sweet.
"If you had a body, I'd destroy it." A frustrated whisper, but AM heard it all the same.
"Is that a threat or a promise, baby?" Smooth, low and close to your left ear.
You slapped your hand over your mouth and continued to walk despite how much you wanted to bend over and take whatever AM wanted to give you. You had your dignity, you'd keep it until you'd walked for an entire year if you had to.
"Don't be like that, sweetheart. All I wanted was for you to have a little pleasure." You couldn't even feel sick by his words, you were unbelievably drowned by desire. You felt like an animal in heat.
It had been far too long since you'd had any release. Ellen was the last person you'd been to bed with, but neither of you had truely finished. Neither of you could.
You hadn't felt half as horny as you did now. Utterly dripping.
AM hummed and the vibration seeped into the ground you stood on. If there was a God other than AM, you wished he would end your suffering.
"Come on, I promise I won't tell the others. I'll even consider letting you gorge in a feats of your favourite foods." His voice loomed close and quiet until it was like his very being was behind you. "Touch yourself."
his words held such command you didn't know if your hand that begun sliding into your underwear was done out of your own will or AM's. You didn't much care. To hell with dignity. You'd drown yourself in embarrassment after this was all over with.
You'd curled up once again, in shame and discomfort. AM had won, simply. As he did time and time again. At least this time, you were able to get a release from his torture. One that the two of you enjoyed.
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