#and I'd be lying if I didn't say that tripped me up the most

[cuubism]

I'd love something about Dream who's very aware that he's way too intense romantically while also being not intense enough sexually because he's ace. His partners usually prefer it the other way around. If that's something you'd be willing to write (if not that's okay too)

hmm yes, we can always do ace dream. though we didn't quite reach 'aware' 😂 human uni au is what popped to my mind

--

When Hob gets back from class, Dream is lying facedown on the couch, one long arm trailing morosely down to the floor, face smashed so deeply into a pillow that Hob can only see the tufts of his hair. He seems to have been there for some time, and doesn't move when Hob comes in.

"Horrors insurmountable today?" Hob asks as he puts down his bag and heads to the adjoining kitchen to grab a snack. He'll probably need to grab one for Dream, too, now that he thinks about it. Doubtful he's eaten.

Dream just makes an mmph sound against his pillow. Then, once Hob's returned to the living room with a plate of apple slices, Dream pops his head up, lines all over his cheek from the pillow, fluffy hair going every which way, and says, "How much do you care about sex?"

Hob nearly trips and flings his apple slices everywhere. "What?"

"In general," Dream persists, heedless of Hob's shock. "Do you subscribe to the belief that individuals past puberty, particularly men, think about sex constantly, or is that an exaggeration? Which do you think is more important in a partnership: compatible personalities, or compatible sex drives? And why?"

"What is this, a sociology assignment?"

"Answer, please," Dream insists.

Hob sighs and gives in to the mad questioning. Joke's on him for having an insane roommate. "I thought about sex all the time when I was thirteen, maybe. Right now I'm just thinking about how I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm fucking starving but we're playing Twenty Questions instead of eating. And as to the second one, I don't know, Dream, I think both are probably important."

"So you think about sex an amount you would consider 'frequent'," Dream presses.

Hob's cheeks heat. Sex is not really a topic he wants to discuss with Dream of all people. Those two thoughts don't meld together into anything good for polite company. "I don't know, I guess!? Doesn't everyone?"

Dream lets out a despairing wail and thumps his head back into his pillow. "I am outnumbered."

Hob still has no idea what the hell he's on about. He finally gives up and just starts eating the apple slices. He offers one to Dream, holding it by the corner of his eye until he finally sees it and takes it, turns his head to the side just enough to start nibbling on it.

"You'll choke if you eat that lying down," Hob warns.

Dream begrudgingly pushes himself up, collapsing against the back of the couch, and goes back to nibbling on his apple slice.

"So," Hob continues, awkwardly, when Dream doesn't say anything else, "sex life not going so well, then?"

Dream glares at him, though it's not very intimidating considering the apple halfway into his mouth. "Too well, by most standards," he finally sniffs, and eats the rest of the slice.

"Oh, yeah?" Dream having sex is another thing Hob doesn't really like to think about. Why'd he bring that up again?

"Indeed. I have suitors falling over each other to bed me," Dream says.

Do all classic literature students talk the way Dream does? Hob doesn't know. It's been two years that they've lived together and he's still yet to definitively figure out if it's an affectation or just the way Dream is. He's leaning towards the latter.

Unfortunately, he can believe Dream's statement. Dream is a snitty little prick most of the time, but he's also unbearably beautiful.

"So what's the problem, then?" he asks.

"I don't want them to bed me," Dream says.

Hob's not following. "Say no, then?"

Dream rolls his eyes. "I don't want them to bed me, I want them to want me." His voice loses some of its determination halfway through the sentence, and he looks away.

Ouch. "Sounds like they do want you?"

Dream snorts. "Only so long as it suits them. Only so long as I fit their parameters. Today I spoke to Cori--"

Ah, yes, Cori, Dream's most recent ex-boyfriend. Dream's had a lot of ex-boyfriends, but Cori really tops the list, and not in a good way.

Now that Hob thinks about it, all of Dream's relationships kind of go the same way. Dream comes home after the first date bouncing off the walls with stars in his eyes insisting this person's the one, and within two months the thing's somehow torpedoed into the Underworld and Hob's scraping Dream up off the bathroom floor.

He's starting to see where the initial line of questioning might have come from.

"--and he, at last, was straightforward with me when no one else has bothered to be all this time. I demanded to know, truthfully, why he ended things, and he told me that I 'care too much, but won't put out'--"

Hob winces.

"--which does not make sense, as we had sex frequently? I do not know what else I am meant to be 'putting' and where. I said as much, and he laughed, and said--" he imitates Cori's voice with a surprisingly passable American accent-- "'It only counts if you at least pretend you want to be there, doll. Next time try initiating occasionally.' He left before I could question him further."

Hob doesn't like the picture this is painting. And Dream is looking at him beseechingly, like Hob might be able to explain the bizarre encounter. "So... now you're trying to figure out if your understanding of sex is wrong or something?"

"I felt that, as a neutral observer to the situation, you would be appropriate to survey," Dream says.

(Neutral is a stretch, Hob thinks.)

"So I ask you, Hob Gadling, as a man demonstrably unbothered by 'hookup culture'--"

"Are you calling me a slut?"

"--what do you think is the correct amount that one should care about sex? Because I--" he breaks off, twisting his fingers in his hair, suddenly anxious-- "I do not know what I am doing wrong."

Hob moves to sit beside him, lays a hand lightly on his arm. He's about to say, you're not doing anything wrong, except... that may not precisely be true. At least in terms of how Dream is actually handling it with his partners.

"How much do you care about sex?" he asks.

"Not as much as I am supposed to, evidently," Dream says. Hob just waits for him to elaborate. "Not very much. I prefer not to think about it." He looks at Hob, weary. "Now you will tell me that this is abnormal."

"I don't know what's 'normal'," Hob says. "But it does sound different from how Cori felt about it."

"I suppose," Dream says, sadly.

Hob doesn't particularly like where the intersection of 'I don't care about sex' and 'we had sex all the time' lands him. "If you don't care that much, why keep doing it?"

"It is what is done, is it not?" says Dream. "Besides. I do not mind so much. But even when I do participate, it is still not good enough. Or so it seems."

It's because they're picking up on the fact that you're not really enjoying it, Hob thinks. No one wants a partner who's not engaging. Least not anyone decent. But not saying anything and then just dipping out suddenly is kind of a dickish move, in his opinion.

"Do you want to participate?" he asks.

This seems to give Dream pause. "Mostly I would prefer to do other things. Like. Dates. Only that does not seem much appreciated either." He twists his hands together. "Perhaps Cori is right. I. Care too much."

"No." Hob takes Dream's hands and untwists them. "Cori's a dickhead. You just need to find someone who's on the same page as you, that's all."

"But it seems that book is rather empty," Dream says. He hasn't taken his hands back from Hob.

"Well, was there anyone that you did like having sex with? Or has it always just been--" he can't help but cringe-- "you just putting up with it because you thought you were supposed to?"

"Calliope," Dream says instantly, and Hob lets out a relieved breath. At least it's not all bad. "Because, no matter that it ended poorly... I felt that she truly liked me. And not. Just sex."

"Okay, see?" he says. "You just have to find someone like that."

It... hurts, to try to push Dream into someone else's path. But Hob's long accepted that Dream doesn't feel that way about him. Dream rarely seems hesitant about trying to date anyone he is interested in. Surely if he felt that way about Hob, he would have made it clear by now.

"Someone," Dream echoes, looking down at their joined hands.

"Just because what you want isn't common doesn't mean it's not out there," Hob says, trying to be encouraging. "And hey, if you know now, you can avoid the whole 'not on the same page' rigamarole, hm?"

"Yes," Dream says. "I suppose so." Finally he takes back his hands, instead taking another apple slice from the plate Hob's left on the coffee table and chewing on it slowly.

I would love you right, Hob thinks, unwanted, unbidden. It's not a productive thought, and it's a painful one, too.

"Perhaps I will take a break," Dream decides, though doesn't sound entirely happy about it.

"Could be good," Hob says. "Get your head on right."

"Yes," Dream agrees. "This has been. Illuminating. I thank you for your counsel. I suppose I will have to also thank Cori, 'dickhead' though he may be."

And with that he retreats to his room, still seeming a little off-kilter. And Hob can't help but feel like he's gone wrong somewhere, said something wrong, though he doesn't know where, or what.

[its-chelisey-stuff]

romcom hasn't been romcoming this hard since... GOSH I don't know?!! when was the last time I saw a romcom in kdramaland that hooked me this much? that made me think everything was perfect??? 2019?? wth?

sdfghjkl!!!! the way this scene was so random at first and now it has so much depth and heartbreak! ugh!!

The thing about romcoms in kdramas, that I LOVE, is that a really good one is able to give you equal measures of romance, heart, comedy and good drama/angst. That, paired up with good acting, AMAZING chemistry and just the right touch of fantasy is pretty much a *chef's kiss*. Is just everything you could ask for but were afraid to hope for, does that make sense??

HAHAHAHAHA I love that she is basically a liar and a terrible one. None of what she says makes sense (tbh telling the truth also wouldn't lol) but I love that he tries to believe her or wants to, very much.

Also, it's hilarious that her superpower is freezing time to avoid revealing spoilers from the future and she makes use of it in the most unhinged way:

GOLD! lmao

And with Hyeyoon on board, I knew this project was on good hands, that girl is seriously underrated in Korea (hopefully not anymore after this) but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about WooSeok. Like, don't get me wrong, that man is GORGEOUS but the only good thing of him that I actually loved was a movie. BUT after this, wow, is like all that experience he has, finally leveled up because he is actually meeting Hyeyoon's standards of acting here, and I'm so proud and relieved. I didn't know he had it in him.

Like, excuse me? Why do you have me tearing up at the start of the episode? And omg, to think he stayed away because she was angry and he felt so guilty, even though he saved her.

I'm genuinely optimistic about the outcome of this. We all know they will get their happy ending, but I'm actually hopeful that the acting, writing and pacing will remain this good till the end. What a joy to watch a wonderful romcom with the vibes of the good old classic romcoms from the early 2010's. We're so back, baby!

I am very curious as to why she went back to the present the first time. What is the trigger? We know, because Sol figured it out, that the watch only works at midnight and she probably only has 2 chances left to change SunJae's future as long as that creepy CEO walks around his school i don't think so But what ends a trip back into the past? Is it shock from Sol? Sunjae? Something happening that's definitely off-track like TaeSun asking her to be his gf? Aarrrghh so many questions.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being paranoid about US Border Security?

🪤 <- for searching later

Background info: I live in Canada, (relatively) close to the US border. Because of this, when shopping online it can be cheaper to have orders shipped to the nearest American town and then drive down yourself to pick them up. I hadn't done this myself but it's pretty normal to do around here.

This happened at the end of this summer, so the situation is fully over but my (white) friends immediately adjacent to this situation have said that I was basically the only asshole here and I feel that I am, at least, only one of the assholes. I want people's genuine opinions however. I have since stopped talking to this entire group of people, who I'd previously been friends with for 4-5 years, over this issue and a couple others.

My friend (20s, white) had ordered a package to [nearest American town], and because they don't have a car, they were looking for someone who could do a day trip to the states so they could pick it up. I (20s, white-passing, but from a mixed South Asian Muslim family, & I have very recognizably Muslim family names) offered to drive them down with my car, they agreed. We were going to split gas money, the date was set, everything was ready to go.

A few days prior to when we were going to go, my south asian parent reminded me that because I have muslim names, I need to be very careful when crossing the border, because the US Customs is well known for profiling muslims/arabs and pulling them aside for intensive screening. My parent also pointed out that, because my friend smokes weed basically every single day (legal in Canada), I would need to make sure that they were not carrying any weed with them when we went.

I was freaked out by this, and was not thinking super clearly in the moment because it was close to midnight and things my parent had mentioned about previous experiences going through Customs had scared me a lot.

I immediately texted my friend, saying that Customs would find weed on them if they swabbed them, and that it would be "a big problem." They replied that Customs doesn't swab for weed, and that they "failed to see any problem." I replied that Customs is allowed to go through your phone (people have been turned away at the border for admitting to having used cannabis before, but if you tell Customs that you've never smoked weed and they find evidence to the contrary they can ban you from entering the country for lying to border personnel.)

I linked them to an unofficial site that went into detail about what US Customs agents can do if you have weed on you or admit to having smoked previously. My vague intent at this point was for us to get everything in order so that none of the bags/jackets/etc we were taking could possibly have had any weed crumbs/dead old vapes/edible packaging in them , but I didn't get a chance to say this because they immediately replied that even if Customs tested them and found weed in their system, that they wouldn't care because it's legal in Canada. I said that Customs very much would care, and they said that I was insulting them and accusing them of having a criminal record. At this point they sent a further ~10 upset/angry texts in a row, which I didn't open or reply to because I was really upset at this point and needed a minute.

At this point (around midnight), they phoned me, I picked it up and they immediately(!) started yelling at me and saying I was a piece of shit etc etc. I told them they sounded dysregulated and should take a minute to compose themself (I phrased what I said in an aggravating therapy-speak way, bc I had been watching vids about cptsd immediately before they phoned me, but I was extremely freaked out, as I think most people would be when their friend is suddenly yelling at them, and it was the first thing that came to mind). This just made them yell louder, so I told them I refused to let people speak to me that way, said goodnight, they said goodnight, we hung up, and I blocked their calls and texts so they couldn't continue berating me.

After this, I realized that I'd completely neglected to mention that the reason I was particularly scared was because of US Customs' Islamophobic profiling, but I had gone into the interaction assuming (incorrectly) that they already knew implicitly that that was going to be an issue, because we'd known each other for 5 years and I've definitely talked (not recently) about how going thru US Customs is always a pain in the ass because my whole family gets profiled and taken for extra questioning, so right before I went to sleep I briefly unblocked them and sent a text saying that the reason I was so paranoid was because of the extra questioning I was already expecting to encounter at the border, but that it was now irrelevant anyway because I refused to be in a car with someone who was totally fine treating me this way.

I've since stopped talking to this person and, by association, my (white) friendgroup because they sided with them completely. It was a long time coming for other additional reasons I can't get into though.

TL;DR

Planning trip from Canada to US in my car with stoner friend, realized a few days before trip that US Customs can arbitrarily fuck your shit up if they find evidence of weed on you. Got scared and tried to tell stoner friend that it would be a big problem if they had weed on them, they flipped their shit and yelled at me over the phone about it, I blocked them (functionally cancelling the trip).

I believe I was accusatory in a bad way, and that I should have communicated better, but ultimately that my fear had a 100% legitimate basis and should not have been completely and totally dismissed by everyone around me, even though I was too extreme in my paranoia

(They were able to get another ride and pick the package up later)

What are these acronyms?

[villainessxassassin]

"I think I've fallen for you, and I can't seem to get back up"

When you've fallen for them, literally.

includes: seperate! Vil Schoenheit, Riddle Rosehearts, Idia Shroud x reader

(⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

Maybe if you paid more close attention to your surroundings you wouldn't be in this predicament, but then again you could've sworn you tripped on literal thin air and just face planted to the ground, and to make matters worse it just had to be infront of one of NRC's most renowned Dorm Leaders.

In your attempts to save whatever embarrassing amount of dignity you had left, you just had to pair it up with some basic cringy pick up line.

"What are you-"

'dont say anything stupid, don't say anything stupid...!'

"I think I've fallen for you, and I can't seem to get back up."

ahhh... but you weren't lying, you've fallen both figuratively and literally in a sense.

Vil

"As poetic as you may get, I'd prefer to be within eye level with someone that's confessing their love for me."

You couldn't tell if Vil was being serious with how blank his face looked. Despite your current awareness of the situation and the abrupt response you had infront of the pomiofere dormhead, a comical arrow pierced your very being as his words repeated again and again in your head.

Spiralling in utter confusion as his words gave off two meanings: one was that he just straight up rejected you and second was 'I'd prefer to be within eye level with someone that's confessing their love for me."

Maybe he'd give off a different reaction if you said it while maintaining leveled eye contact with him? You were already embarrassed enough so it's best to keep your thoughts to yourself on this one. On Vil's part he didn't know what to make of the situation.

But he did see potential in your attempt, so that's why he chose not to poke at you and instead helped you up without another word. Only a short 'be careful next time' left his soft lips as all you could do was stare, mind finally comprehending the fact that it was THE Vil Schoenheit you just stupidly tripped infront of.

how embarassing

To Vil, there wasn't anything special with what you said earlier, rather he's already heard similar phrases come out from other people's mouths that he can clump your statement with theirs. Yet for a brief second the corners of his mouth lifted ever so softly, before going back to their original position when he found you staring at him.

"I-" before you could even get another word out he's already had his back turned to you, walking back in the same direction where he came

You'd think he was annoyed, but in truth his heart started beating rapidly in his chest for some unknown reason he refused to acknowledge, but not wanting to loose touch of this strange feeling, he called out to you before he could turn the corner.

"Should you need assistance the next time you choose to say such engaging words, do come find me. I'm looking forward to whatever else you have instore."

Riddle

"If you're going to fall then do so in a more elegant and dignified way, and no that wasn't an invitation for you to just fall for— infront of others whenever you please!"

Despite it being you who should be embarrassed, Riddle seems to have shared the same shade of red you had slowly spreading across your face, though his was radiating a more darker shade.

Had you just kept your mouth shut he would have passed you off as clumsy, scolded you a little maybe for your miscalculated step before helping you to your feet, and went back on his merry way towards the hearslabyul dorm.

BUT NO. You just had to open your mouth and now you have reduced Riddle to what you'd call a deer caught in headlights. He was quick to clear his throat before crossing his arms while looking down on you with a deadpan look on his face. (Thought his cheeks still carried the tiniest tints of pink)

Riddle was always straight forward with his words, always quick to correct someone when they made a mistake, and or punish them when he see's fit.

But he couldn't list down your quick confession as something to be labeled as a 'mistake', and punishing you for something as trivial as making him shy embarrassing him would be plain immature on his part.

So he let you off with just a light scolding, but there wasn't any hint of annoyance or anything negative in his tone of speaking, seeming way to busy flicking his eyes to the floor and back to your own.

You also realized this was the first time you've ever seen Riddle not hold direct eye contact with anyone, which scared you a little. Perhaps even eye contact was something he couldn't bare to waste time on you on? (he just shy bby)

Coming back to your senses, your train of thought vanished when your eyes landed on Riddle's gloved hands on the collar of your uniform, fingers delicate with adjusting and smoothing out the folds and wrinkles as a soft sight left his lips and he finally held eye contact with you.

"Do be careful next time atleast. It would be a shame if you crumpled your uniform over something as trivial as getting distracted... And don't use me as an excuse for seizing your attention!"

Idia

"Me?! uhm s-so would you like help getting back up...? Wait, no— first, are you alright? ah hold on—"

For once in Idia's whole entire life of living he has never felt this overwhelmed and confused before. He'll admit that pick up line was kinda lowkey something straight out of some generic romance anime that he can think of at the top of his head, but that doesn't change the fact people. you said it to him of all people.

If the pause button existed in real life he would have pressed that thing at light speed because the poor guy needs time to process things. He could have just apologized and walked away, maybe pretend he didn't see nor hear you and go on with his day, but even Idia wasn't that cold hearted to just leave you there.

Wether if you meant what you said or not, he offered his hand, looking at the side with quivering lips and squinted eyes. You could have sworn the tips of his hair started to change color, but that was probably due to the angle of the lighting.

He wanted to faint, but then that'd end up with both of you on the floor and that doesn't really paint a good picture in his head.

You apologize briefly after getting up, repeatedly bowing your head in a back and forth motion after realising how careless you've been with both your actions and your words. Idia did the same but in a less frantic matter, waving his hands infront of him while averting his eyes to look at anything but you.

After that day Idia couldn't seem to concentrate on his game at all. For starters he tried imagining what would have happened if the roles were reversed and he was the one that tripped.

Hell, he'd die from embarrassment right then and there. A part of him envied how easy it was for you to say such bold choice of words without breaking a sweat (but internally you were dying)

Yet he couldn't deny the fact it made him slightly happy, despite the situation he was placed in, it felt nice being dragged into what you'd call a "suprise event" in gamer terms. He couldn't imagine himself being in the same situation ever again after that encounter, but he wouldn't mind talking to you again under different circumstances.

"Unlike you, I don't need to trip over my own two feet in order to fall for you- Nope! there's no way I can say that and expect to continue living the day after!"

(have you seen Idia's voicelines? even if he said majority half of them sarcasticly im still swooning)

____

i fvcking tripped and that's the story of how this fic was born (I feel smart when writing titles/prompts but am horrible at writing them, sadly) -kishira

[sunny44]

Marriage (part 3)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

After that intense conversation with Y/N, I knew that I had taken an important first step in trying to repair what I had ruined years ago.

However, the uncertainty was what tormented me, I didn't know what she would do with the letter, if she would read it, if she would accept my forgiveness or even if she would consider the possibility of a second chance which was what I had wanted ever since I saw her again.

The days passed slowly as I waited anxiously for any sign of her. I didn't hear anything for the first few days but my curiosity and desire to know how she was doing grew with each passing hour.

So here I was lying on the hotel bed wanting to know more about her, so I decided to look her up on Instagram.

I typed in her name and saw her in a series of happy photos, all with a man I recognized immediately.

Mason Mount was her boyfriend.

My heart sank when I saw the genuine smiles on their faces, the trips they had taken together and the special occasions they had shared.

They looked happy and that only intensified my feeling of regret because it should have been me holding her and smiling for the pictures.

I spent hours scrolling through the photos, trying to reconnect with the woman I once loved, but I gave up.

But one question haunted me: had she completely gotten over what I had done?

What hurt me most was realizing how happy she seemed now, with someone who wasn't me. It was a punishment I deserved, a constant reminder of my own cowardice and foolishness.

Eventually I ended the session on social media, feeling even more miserable than before. Reality was cruel and it was punching me in the face.

The time I'd wasted, the opportunities I'd thrown away, it all came to light.

All I had to do was wait and hope that Y/N would read the letter, that she would consider my sincerity and my change.

I knew that life would go on, even if I wasn't part of it.

Maybe, just maybe, time and reflection could heal the wounds I had caused and allow us both to move on, even if in separate directions.

...

A few months passed and I lost hope as I didn't hear anything from her, not even a “leave me alone” so I tried to let it go but it seems the world was against me.

Because the moment I looked at the entrance to the garage I saw Mason and Y/n smiling and walking in.

"I didn't know they'd come here." I said to Checo who stopped next to me.

"They? Do you know both of them?"

"I don't know him personally."

"But do you know her personally?"

"Yes, but..."

"Max, Checo, please come here." Christian calls to us and we go over. "This is Mason Mount and Y/n, they're our guests for the weekend and he’s the one giving the small tire for the pole position."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Mason says and greets us along with her.

We chatted for a while until they left to walk around the paddock.

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen1 Instagram post

Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

Liked by @danielricciardo, @masonmount, @redbullracing and others 527940

Maxverstappen1 Great qualifying today @redbullracing, the car was on rails, really enjoyable to drive

Thanks to all the fans out there 🇪🇸

Redbullracing Let’s go Max

Masonmount Good job mate

Y/n&maxfans I really miss them together

User81 who?

Y/n&maxfans Y/n (Mason’s Fiancée) and Max, they were engaged a few years ago

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @christianpulisic10 @gaslysainz @fanboyluvr @urgirlceci @justdreamersdream @aundercover @newlifeforus @depressedriches @topguncultleader @123beautifulgirl123 @luvrrish @tyna-19

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Fourteen) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13...

MiM Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @belaballs @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: drama, yelling, crying, death mention, dueling mention, gun violence mention, mentioned infidelity, and angst.

[[A/N: Drama, have you ever wanted a man to duel over you??? Well, you just might get thatttt, you'll have to see :)))!!! Also, I know I promised The Nurse next, but my one true love regency drama got in the way. I'm so sorry!!! But soon, I swear. Enjoy this, for now, ly all <3 ]]

You hadn't heard it from him. That was what had bothered you the most, really, is that you heard through someone else -the whispers of the street. They had graced your ears before he had even stepped to tell you.

Your Headmistress was frozen, words that you couldn't hear echoing through the air and it almost felt like the entire square froze. Like the world had frozen right as your heart stuttered in your chest, your ears ringing, and your hands were shaking-

"Darling? Darling-" Headmistress was all you could see -big brown eyes peering at you in a concern you felt was rather unmatched, "-hey look at me, will you? 'Can't have you fainting in the square-"

Her voice wasn't her anymore, rather, a sort of muffled noise in the back of your head. Your throat felt dry, and suddenly, it felt as though you couldn't breathe. Like your lungs were tied with a rope, and no matter how hard you tried, they would not fill. Something in your head spun and your stomach twisted -a fear that gripped you unlike anything else you'd ever been afraid of.

The words, although they seemed to be in a tone you knew to be gossip, felt so real -bouncing around your skull.

"There is to be a duel in two days' time. The Grimes heir and the man who captured the heart of his estranged wife! Just dreadful."

"A little late for such a battle, is it not?"

You didn't know the women who spoke them, all big hats and lacy dresses -any feature you could see didn't ring to be familiar. The two spoke as if it were nothing. As if he wasn't... As if that wasn't a life-

"I'd hate to be the mistress."

"Darling," you felt hands holding your arms -guiding you, "-let's return to the carriage at once, such trips can happen later-"

You couldn't even remember the purpose now, your mind a rather foggy place, and all you could really hear was the pounding of your heart in your chest. It was a heavy sort of thud that rattled your head, and your breathing could hardly catch up. Yet, the Headmistress's steps were sure and evenly tempered -quick as to not let anyone see you in such a state. There were already rumors about your family, they truly didn't need to know more.

Before you could truly blink, you were brought into the carriage -the door shutting effectively silencing your brain. The buzz of the crowd was now not overwhelming, and yet, you still felt as if the wind had flown out of your lungs. Like the ground had crumbled beneath your feet like your entire world had shifted-

"Y/N dear, please, breathe."

You blinked, swallowing, fingertips brushing against the cushioned seats -bringing yourself down. Each breath is a slow, deep inhale, and your nails push into the fabric to keep you there. To steady you, as the roar of your heart became timid in the silence -quiet.

"D-Did you know?" you asked -slowly and shaky, there was something in your throat-

"No," she answered quickly, "-no. I know I've done my misdeeds, but believe me when I say this... This is something I would've told you."

"Do you-" you started, "-do you believe there could be truth to it? Could he-"

"Stop, no. We'll get nowhere with such conspiracies," Headmistress shushed, sitting forward to open the door ever-so-slightly -speaking to the driver, you assumed, "-it's best we hear it directly from the source."

That brought you to now, the Headmistress guiding you by the arm up the stairs to the Grimes estate -her stance was one of anger, and each worker almost seemed to be widely avoiding the both of you because of it.

Her face had twisted into a rather sour frown, the wrinkles in her face more prominent than you had ever seen them - a heavy furrow resting upon her eyebrows. It was all pinched together -you could feel such frustration, and you were sure if she had not held you by the arm, you would've run in the other direction as well.

And it only pushed forward, through doors through startled faces and orders halted on their lips -you were quite sure you had seen Mr. Dixon somewhere along the mix. You weren't focused though, everything grew rather blurry as tears began to gather behind your eyes -you merely wiped them away. You couldn't give any extra thought to them. You had too much to think about, too much-

Headmistress pushed open the door to his office like it was a public ladies' room, like she had every right to be there and like it was her own. Her face had not let up a smidge, the sour look only grew more bitter by the moment -the frown pulled further down her face and her hand grasping you ever so tighter. Mr. Grimes startled for a moment, standing at his feet at the sight of you -almost like he couldn't help it.

His eyes dipped to your red cheeks, evidence of you crying, and you watched the flex of his hand -as if he wished to wipe them away himself. Something in your stomach twisted.

"Ms. Elisa, Ms. Greene-" he breathed out -something like concern hidden deep in his tone, "-a lovely surprise. If you would've let me, I would've walked the two of ya in-"

"Mr. Grimes," your Headmistress interrupted -strong and confident, unwavering, "-we have come upon some rather disparaging news. I wish to have you settle the truth of such things."

He stilled, slightly, a leak of his composure and you were certain it had gone under Headmistress's radar but it hadn't your own. You could tell such things, his eyes spoke volumes but learning his tics had been something delightful for yourself. It felt rather distant now.

Your mouth opened before you could rationalize it, "Headmistress? May I... May I speak with him alone?"

She paused, brown eyes turning to you -flickering over your figure, "If you wish to, of course, dear, but-"

"I wish to," you answered, frankly, the sniffle of your nose rather loud in such a thick layer of tension, "-I believe I shall ask him such things on my own."

"If you insist," Headmistress frowned slightly, before squeezing your arm once -comforting, and stepping aside, "-I'll be by the door."

She spoke only to you, rather cold to the man in the room, but you knew of her reasons. She was always stubborn in such things, especially with things considering you or your sisters. You, briefly, wondered how long it would take her to forgive such faults.

Mr. Grimes spoke first, a sort of desperate plea hanging out in the empty air, "Ms. Greene-"

You sniffled, wiping at the bottom of your eye -hoping to clear up what you had shed, "Mr. Grimes, I believe you know why I'm here."

There was a long silence then, as he merely looked over you and you saw his hand fidget over his handkerchief for a split second before falling to his side once more. He looked at though he itched to approach you then, to care for you. You truly weren't sure how to feel.

"I do," he responded -finally.

"Then," you cleared your throat from the biting back of a sob, "-you must know of what I'm asking."

"I do..."

"Tell me," you started, slow and you could already feel the tears build up again, "-Tell me if it's true."

He spoke, a low, tired tone, "Ms. Greene, I never intended-"

"Do you not wish me to believe it?" you questioned, the silence in the room a thick layer of tension draped over the air -it almost felt choking.

He faltered, "Ms. Greene..."

"Then, tell me it isn't true. Tell me that it's all made up and I shall believe you-" you spoke in a rising sort of pitch before it all fell once more -desperation edging along your words, "-But... I believe you cannot tell me such a thing is a lie."

Mr. Grimes remained silent then, eyes rather downcast and despite his standing, he still felt sunk in. Hiding, ashamed. Like he had known this was the outcome.

And... perhaps he did.

Something in your chest snapped, despite asking, you hadn't expected the answer, "It's true, isn't it?"

"He spoke to me soon after ya left my estate," he spoke, a sort of desperate sort of tone -explaining, "-wouldn't leave until I spoke to him."

"He challenged you."

"He wasn't..." he sighed, a deep sort of heavy one, "-I could tell he wasn't of a right mind. I should've refused to speak to 'im-"

"What of the children?" you spoke, it all sounded sort of hollow now, "-what of... What of me, if you... if you-"

"Ms. Greene," he hummed, carefully, slowly, "-I hadn't... I didn't believe anyone had heard him. I didn't- I hadn't answered, he wasn't of the right mind. And then-"

"Someone heard you," you spoke, gathering the path on your own, "-and you were proposed again."

"Yes," he continued -defeated, almost, "-and a man propositioned to a duel would be a fool to refuse."

"You would be an alive fool," you spoke, now close to him -hands itching to reach out, to feel him beneath your fingertips, warm, breathing, "-alive."

"Y/N, please."

"Don't," you relented, "-don't speak as if you don't have a choice. You do."

"It is a matter of honor," Mr. Grimes continued -heavy with purpose, "-and I won't 'ave my name dragged through the dirt by someone who I used to trust the most."

"You wished to marry me," your voice broke -something in you grieving, "-how am I to marry a dead man?"

"Y/N, I wish to marry you, presently. This does not change-"

"No, I-" you cleared your throat, stepping back a measured few steps -clearing your throat, "-I cannot be promised to a man who may be dead in a few days' time. You must understand my worry."

"'Course, I do," he answered, moving forward the steps you took back staying within your space, "-I... I cannot imagine."

"And yet," you responded -broken and angry, "-you instill such an experience on me. On your children?"

"Ms. Greene-"

"I just wish to understand," you hummed -something forlorn in your tone, "-but I'm not certain I ever will."

"It's not-" he started, before breaking off, "-I did not think of it 'at way, but you... I can't-"

"I love you," you echoed, "-and if I... It's too short, I wish to have it much longer."

"You will," Mr. Grimes spoke -desperately, "-you will."

"It's one thing to say and another to know, Mr. Grimes."

"Y/N-"

"No, I-" you cleared your throat -straightening slightly, and dabbing at your eyes, "-I have things to attend to."

"Please, don't leave on such a note-"

"Mr. Grimes," you spoke lightly -tears gathering behind your eyes, "-I love you, truly beyond belief. Stay alive."

"Y/N..."

"Please, I-" you breathed out -voice shaking, "-I can't... I can't stay here any longer."

Mr. Grimes opened his mouth, but you couldn't listen, not then. Mind running a mile a minute, your brain seemed to fuzz along the edges. You swore you were getting dizzy-

You merely curtsied and headed out of the office. You heard him, calling to you, but you refused to turn back -something in you ripped open and vulnerable, you needed to go home. And perhaps such a thought was selfish, leaving such a man begging for you to speak.

But, you couldn't. Not now. The weight of a bullet heavy on your brain, you couldn't look him in the eye with the possibility it might be the last time-

The last time, it bounced around your head and didn't stop. Even when the Headmistress rushed to your side -keeping up with your footsteps, even on the carriage ride home, even in your bedroom that night -staring upon the dark vast ceiling. Maggie was just beside you -comfortably asleep; you, on the other hand, tugged the blanket tighter around yourself.

Hoping for dreams of a berry basket and blue eyes, in a much simpler world. Just you and him in a market stall. Where had such thoughts gone?

[maries-gallery]

wc: 700

French bits translation:

my heart

By the clear fountain, on my promenade, I found the water so fair that I stopped there to bathe. I have loved you for a long, long time, never will I forget you. (from A la claire Fontaine, a French lullaby)

And if you didn't exist, tell me why would I? I'd be nothing but a dot on this Earth, in this world that comes and goes I would be lost. I would need you. (From Et si tu n'existais pas by Joe Dassin)

One of the things Clavis remembers the most about his mother is her voice. How soft it sounded in his ears when she comforted him and soothed his cries as a child, a hand gently wiping away the tears on his cheeks as she kneeled before him. He had just tripped whilst running after a rabbit in the gardens, scratching his knee and palms. 

“It’s okay, mon coeur, this injury will heal in no time!” She smiles at him, the brightest and most earnest smile he has ever seen. The sight enough to stop the faucets in his eyes from running more tears down his cheeks. 

Not many people smile in the palace, only his mom. He wonders why. Why are people so sad amongst these walls? Why is no one smiling and laughing? Why does everything feel so blue? 

His father never smiles either, only sits and scowls on his throne. A statue made of ice who barely spares him and his mom a single glance. 

Only his mom’s curved lips and the warmth of his palm on his cheek. But even from his young age the sadness rooted in his mother’s eyes didn't escape Clavis’s acute attention. 

He remembers how it sounded in his ears when she eased him to sleep, the two of them lying in his bed, her arms around him and his head on her chest. Her heartbeat laced with the music of her voice. She smelled of lavender and roses. 

“A la claire fontaine, m’en allant promener j’ai trouvé l’eau si belle que je m’y suis baignée.” She sings and his eyes slowly flutter close, until her voice is nothing but an echo in the distance. “Il y a longtemps que je t’aime jamais je ne t’oublierais…” 

He still hears her sometimes. In the wind that blows through the leaves, in the rain that falls on blooming roses. When he sings or hums to himself sometimes, when he thinks no one is looking, the same melody and same lyrics. But Cyran knows. 

“Oh, Cyran! Didn’t see you there! No need to check on me, I am hard at work as you can see!” He cheers, plastering on a smile, pretending. He goes back to the pile of papers on his desk, switching for a cheery tune. 

And Cyran doesn’t say a thing. He doesn’t have to. 

Clavis’s eyes falter, and so does his smile. 

He hears it also sometimes, when you sing to yourself, the smile on his face falls as amber eyes gaze at you like you might vanish into thin air, like nothing in the world exists but you. Slow hesitant steps carry him to you, and you almost miss the thin sheen of tears in his eyes. This time he doesn’t bother to run away and hide, he doesn’t care. Nothing matters but your voice and the distant echo of his mother’s embrace. 

“Do it again.” He says, voice strangled by something he cannot quite pinpoint. Something between sadness, happiness, and… nostalgia? “Sing for me, please.” He asks again, and your heart tightens in your chest as desperation wavers in his eyes. 

Sometimes he can listen to you for hours, the two of you lying in bed at night, his arms around your waist and his head on your chest, only he does not sleep this time, listening intently to every syllable. Every word and every note. 

He doesn’t dare skip a beat, in case it’d be the last time. 

And some other times he smiles and cheers, a spring in his step as he hoists you up and spins you around, twirling you around the room to the beat of your voice and his own. The two of you singing together, like nothing matters, like he is a child again and like you are made of sunlight. 

“I am pretty sure these are not the lyrics, Clavis.” You laugh, the sound light and golden as it wells up in the air. 

He mocks surprise, mischief bubbling in a cheshire grin and fierce amber eyes, “Oh but these are the correct lyrics. The correct lyrics of the song your dear Clavis created himself for his lovely lover.” 

And he loves how you flush at his silliness, how you fall quiet and listen to him, the hints of a smile on your features. 

“Et si tu n’existais pas, dis moi pour qui j’existerais? Je ne serais qu’un point de plus, dans ce monde qui va et qui vient, je me sentirais perdu. J’aurais besoin de toi…” 

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @rhodolitesrose @revasserium (why you should play Clavis's route, because he is an angsty dork and we love him) @pockcock @violettduchess @ikemen-writer @ikesimp100 @veervers @venulus @otomehoneyybearr @scrumptiousfirepanda @elleplaysotome @cellophanediamond @myonlyjknight @citizensofcradle @itealyou @keithsandwich @chirp-a-chirp @nuclear-frog @scorchieart

[glindaupland]

The Phantom of the Opera | Seoul, South Korea | October 8-14th, 2023 [REVIEWS]

Wow it's about time I posted these reviews that I kept lying about (this week! tomorrow! in 10 years!) Better late than never?

In this post I'll drop a few general things about the production, but the performances are analyzed in my reviews linked here. I recommend reading those all in order since I revisit points about actors I've made previously along the way to avoid repeating myself. Also leaving a disclaimer that these performances are from October so there are some changes in what the actors are doing now (with the exception of Jeon Dong-seok since he left in November) Apologies in advance for my wordiness, but this is more of a "release my feelings for my sake and if anyone else likes it that's cool too" kind of thing? Listen - I wrote a lot of notes on my performances there. So just go in knowing this is the more coherent version of my insane looking notes app!

Before I start I want to thank a few lovely friends who helped me out with this trip because it wouldn't have gone as well as it did without them!

Thank you to @lucygold95 for helping me so much with planning over the past months and for giving me the best time in Busan. Thank you @capitanogiorgio for all the shenanigans we went through and the most special time going to the 1500th and meeting Yoon Young-seok. Thank you to @fadinglandtragedy for the fun talks and the good advice before my trip! The best part of things like this is making friends of course! : )

PERFORMANCE REVIEWS:

| October 8, 2023 | October 11, 2023 | October 12, 2023 | | October 13, 2023 (M) | October 13, 2023 (E) | October 14, 2023 |

STAGE & THEATER

This was as close to the original staging as possible. So I was able to take it in one more (or I guess 6 more?) times post-Broadway closing. The Charlotte Theater is a lot smaller than the Majestic so every view was pretty solid in my opinion, even the second to last row. I took a video of my view from 4th row under the chandelier during the exit music on October 11th so you can see! The angel and chandelier are shown halfway through. I'd say 5th row was almost the cut off for the chandelier drop (that was my spot next day) Broadway seats in this area were always too expensive for me so I'm glad I was able to grab these spots for this production

There were photo zones you can take pics at which you've probably seen. One was a large rose wall, the other was the cute statue of their mascot 오유령. People also take forever lining up for the cast boards for photos and yes I was one of those people. Here's a comparison of the cast boards from the second season (pictures I found when reading old reviews on Naver) and the cast boards now (I forgot to take a photo of one on the top floor though)

I found this review where someone took more detailed clean photos than I did if you're curious about the layout and decorations!

MERCH AND GIFTS

The tickets had these designs! If you booked on Yes24, you received a special envelope and a ticket holder with the face of the Phantom performing for that show

I only didn't receive a second Ju-taek because that was booked on another site - Interpark (bottom middle ticket). I also received paper masks with printed autographs every day I went to commemorate the 200th performance of the run/100th for Seoul and the 1500th overall Korean performance. We used them for the curtain call photos on those two dates (with Jeon Dong-seok then Kim Ju-taek). There are multiple versions of the program book and at the time of writing this I have all except the Daegu one. The first Busan program book was pretty bare and only had the teaser pictures - the same was the case for my Les Mis program book in Busan. -There are different photos in each one, so to me it was worth grabbing them all. My third version signed by Kim Ju-taek is currently on display as you can see below! (The writing says "내 노래를 날게 해 주오 - Make my song take flight") Once again thank you to Lucy for this! 🥹❤️

Here's some of my POTO merch (including a spare cupsleeve from the coffee shop next door, I also had a keyring, but I forgot to show it) RIP to the second program book I sacrificed for scans I still have the pages stored/displayed though! I'm not wasteful! I'll have more to post soon after sharing these reviews

TRANSLATION

Let me emphasize this: my Korean abilities are limited, so don't look to me as the expert on this at all. But I'll still share my notes and perspective as an outsider who's studying The lyrics have changed quite a bit since 2001-2. There are still lines kept or songs that are mostly similar. MOTN had a lot of similarity to 2009-11 even with its changes, STYDI was identical to 2009-11, but Angel of Music was pretty different from even the last season, etc etc. The Phantoms all have unique lines sprinkled here and there, mainly in MOTN (this happens sometimes in Korean musicals). You get some things like random single line changes in some parts depending on the actor or different order/wording of the same lines as well. Just tiny diversions from the script. This is the case for the Christines and Raoul to a lesser extent. Additionally, actors are often permitted to do some occasional improvisation/ad libs. Some unique lines are pretty normal parts of their interpretations now, some appear depending on the feeling of the performance, some are one time only events. I'll mention some of the actor-specific ones and such in their actual reviews, but I have been trying to mark down all of the differences like these for example

Of course, some things obviously have to be adjusted to make sense because of cultural / linguistic reasons. So one example would be the "Wrote...written" line in Notes I. Firmin speaks rudely and informally, but quickly tries adding a more respectful ending particle 요 after Raoul and André give him a shocked 'what did you just say?' kind of look. So "대체 뭘 썼다고 하는 건데...요!" is pretty much like "What the hell are you saying I wrote?" André would look so embarrassed by this each time 🫣

퇴근길 / STAGE DOOR

Stage door doesn't really work the same as it does in places like New York, London, etc. Most of the time if an actor comes out it's more like a quick greeting or chat with the fans. Some actors (not in this case) might sign or take photos in designated spots, but it really depends and it's not so common. It's gotten more restricted ever since COVID as well. 퇴근길 -> "way home from work" is literally what this is called. Dong-seok did wave at us a few times happily after the 200th performance, Gun-ha briefly came out to thank fans after the 1500th while Ceci and I waited to meet Young-seok who had agreed to meet us. I did not have the time (or strength) for the Seung-woo mob, but he usually greets fans after shows.

I literally asked Yoon Young-seok directly on Instagram if Ceci and I could meet him and give him gifts because I figured it didn't hurt to try! When he agreed, my anxiety was not necessarily about meeting an actor, but more about my ability to express my thoughts in another language. But he was truly the sweetest guy and incredibly patient. I think he got that I understood everything he said, but that replying was a whole other challenge. I'm glad I was making enough sense that he was able to get my points and helped me finish sentences if I looked stressed about it 😂 I basically told him I had been planning this trip since the cast announcement because it was too perfect to miss and that I came for 6 shows. I really like to listen to his Phantom on the cast recordings and I thought he made the shows I had seen so far so much fun.

We both said where we were from (the US and France) and he was amazed. He was also shocked when I pulled out my original Korean cast recording (I still laugh thinking about the way he said "와, 세상에!" like "Wow, oh my god!" and enthusiastically took it agreeing to sign when I was mid-way asking him haha) I also thought it was funny when he asked Ceci if she saw his Phantom last season. We wish! But she mentioned she had gone to Busan a few times and he looked very touched and appreciative that we went to multiple performances 🥹 This poor man was tired he signed our things with November (11.13) though and he also spelled Ceci's name wrong first time, but it was the 1500th show though okay. And if he says it's November...who are we to question him? Ceci should also legally change names so he isn't wrong. Anyway, ramble over you can find the art we made for him in this post

OTHER

Here's just bonus fun I had that I will manage to connect to POTO despite it not being POTO because I love doing that. I mean I went because I like these musicals as well (otherwise I would've been foolish enough to go see Ben-Hur but I have, uh, standards for my plots sorry to Park Eun-tae 😭), but it's fun to point out these things. I'm happy to share my show experiences in a different post if anyone's interested in my thoughts on those

Rebecca

I went to see Rebecca, mainly focused on seeing a scheduled date for 이지혜 Lee Ji-hye (Ich) and 장은아 Jang Eun-ah (Mrs Danvers). The whole cast was fantastic. Some Korean musicals have special encore bits they do where the leads sing a part of a song from the show during bows so that was really fun. Unfortunately, we don't get to have fun at POTO like that haha

Lee Ji-hye was in Y&K Phantom as Christine in the same cast as Jeon Dong-seok (Erik), Yoon Young-seok (Gérard Carrière), and Lee Sang-jun (Cholet). Two other cast members in Rebecca were in Y&K as well - 에녹 Enoch (Maxim) who was Philippe and 신영숙 Shin Young-sook (Mrs Danvers) who was Carlotta. Sadly, they had such few shows this season due to a busy schedule, so I couldn't see them (when will trot give Enoch back to musicals). Original Korean ALW Raoul and Y&K Erik 류정한 Ryu Jeong-han was also on rotation as Maxim, but I picked another day for my show so I didn't see him either

Les Misérables

I went to opening night of Les Mis in Busan! It was the Dream Theater, same place POTO played at before. As many of you already know, Choi Jae-rim is playing Jean Valjean at the same time as the Phantom.

I could recognize him easily as the Phantom, but honestly when he appeared at the very start of Les Mis it took me a minute to process that it was him! While I did enjoy his Phantom a lot, I think I enjoyed his Valjean performance a little more. It was only opening night, so curious to see how things develop!

The actor who played Javert that night, 카이 Kai (stage name), was a former Y&K Erik for two seasons too. So many Phantoms!

Frankenstein

On the last day I got to see Dong-seok and Ji-hye once more in a concert for the musical Frankenstein which they have been in together. So have some pics I took without a mask blocking his face!

Ending Note

Thinking back to December 2022 when I said: "Maybe I'll go to Seoul and see Dong-seok once or twice and that's it" That was funny. That was really very very funny and silly of me to say. 9 performances and 6 of those were POTO! But I'm so grateful and I have zero regrets about it. This is one of the best experiences I've had even if it might look ridiculous to some people to do something like this...I don't care! I hope my crazy essays can help paint a good picture for you!

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - A Pleasure To Meet You

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg @chibichibivale @melancholy-in-the-morning

content: vampire whumper, creepy/intimate whump, manipulation, period-typical (1820s Europe) attitudes about gender and relationships, frankly lyfelde is an older man who is uncomfortably predatory towards a younger man and i'm not sure how else to warn for it so there

Vincent is, as he often is, utterly stupefied and unable to think of the right words to say.

His eyes glance to the fingers brushing his jaw, then to the man in front of him, then to his jaw again, where the hand has been drawn back just as quickly as it was placed.

"Apologies," the man says, and his voice is certainly not tinged with a French accent, but Vincent can't place it at all. "I thought you were someone else."

The glint in the man's eye seems untrustworthy, but Vincent isn't going to be rude and accuse him of lying.

"I, um--" Vincent clears his throat. "Is that not still… quite…"

"Odd? Forward? Yes." The man sighs and gestures vaguely. "I've really no patience for such etiquette. I like to be close with my companions."

"No, I meant…" Vincent feels small. This man's presence makes his hands shake. "To do to another man, in particular. Perhaps if the companion you were seeking was a close female companion, but I… I hope you didn't mistake me for one, however briefly."

The man rolls his eyes. "Again, I've no patience. Why should anyone get to dictate exactly how I interact with the people around me? It's ridiculous, really."

Ridiculous? Etiquette is Vincent's lifeline. It's the only way he understands society, learned from watching how effortlessly Henry would glide around rooms, letting Vincent all but cling to him, excusing Vincent's actions with a charming smile and an Ah, my brother. He's a little shy.

"You're English, aren't you?" the man says, tilting his head in curiosity. "You speak French like an Englishman."

"U-Um, yes, sir," Vincent nods.

"Excellent," the man says, in English. "I'd rather speak to you in the language you're most comfortable in. Ambrose Lyfelde."

Vincent swallows. He has no real way to back out of the conversation now. He holds out his hand. "Vincent Maddox, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Vincent." Lyfelde says Vincent's name as though he's tasting it. "Wonderful to meet you, Vincent."

Being on first name terms with a stranger is so deeply unnatural that Vincent almost corrects him, but he bites his tongue. He absolutely cannot do that, especially not with the way this man carries himself. If his attitude didn't suggest otherwise, Vincent would guess that Lyfelde was of noble birth. Even failing that, Lyfelde is clearly much older than Vincent, and Vincent is socially aware enough to realise he should defer.

"You've been standing rather awkwardly by this table for a while, Vincent." Lyfelde smiles disarmingly. "Are you here alone?"

"Yes, Mr Lyfelde," Vincent says, dropping his hand - Lyfelde doesn't appear interested in shaking it - and attempting to return the smile. "Most unfortunately."

"No friends could accompany you?"

"No friends to accompany me, sir," Vincent replies. "As you noted, I'm an Englishman. I'm on a study trip."

"Oh!" That sets Lyfelde's golden eyes alight. "Oxford or Cambridge, perhaps?"

"Oxford, sir."

"Oxford, wonderful."

It's half a lie, Vincent supposes. There's certainly a lot to be learned about the arts and culture in France, were he so inclined. But it is simply the summer before the final year of his degree, and that is far too much of an ending for comfort, and all Vincent wants to do is postpone thinking about it as much as possible.

"What do you study?" Lyfelde asks.

"I mean no d-disrespect, sir, but I feel a little interrogated," Vincent says, doing his best not to stammer. "You walked up to me and simply decided we were speaking. I was under the impression you were searching for someone?"

Lyfelde laughs, a soft laugh, though not quite a kind one. "I do apologise. I was not, I simply thought I recognised you by happenstance. I'm making idle conversation with a lonely young man. Is that disallowed?"

Lonely? Is he being insulted? Vincent genuinely isn't sure.

"Of course not, Mr Lyfelde," Vincent mumbles. "...I'm studying classics."

"Classics! You must be rather bright."

Vincent blinks, and glances away. "I- I wouldn't say so, sir."

"Don't put yourself down," Lyfelde says, rolling his eyes. "Studying a thing as nebulous and complicated as the arts requires a lot of work. You're certainly more intelligent than I in those matters."

"Oh." Vincent feels his face grow warm. "Thank you, sir. I don't often get complimented on my intelligence."

If Vincent was more worldly, more experienced, more mature, he'd notice the way Lyfelde's closed-mouth smile widens a fraction, the way his fingers twitch as he resists reaching out, how much closer he's gotten since the conversation began.

"Forgive me, but you look awfully uncomfortable among this crowd," Lyfelde says. "Perhaps we should go somewhere quiet?"

Vincent isn't quite sure why he goes along with it. Lyfelde simply takes him by the arm and Vincent doesn't have the wherewithal to refuse or to stop him. He is simply led along, out of the halls and onto the near-silent, darkened streets.

"There, isn't the fresh air much better?" Lyfelde says.

Vincent takes a deep breath, then nods. "It… it is, yes. Thank you, sir."

Lyfelde leans on his cane, watching Vincent with curious eyes. "You're a very reserved one, aren't you?"

"I don't make an effort to be," Vincent replies. "I a-apologise if I have put you off, sir."

"No, no." Lyfelde has to keep from laughing as Vincent breathes a sigh of relief. Pathetic. "Come here. What are you standing so far for?"

Vincent hesitantly steps forward. Lyfelde raises his eyebrows, and finally smiles to show his teeth.

Fangs.

Vincent doesn't get to scream as he's pressed against the wall, out of sight of any passerbys, Lyfelde's hand crushing his throat. He's a fool to trust a stranger the way he did, and they will not hear of his death for weeks and they will not know how he died, because who in the world would believe a vampire had killed him?

But Lyfelde doesn't. He stares at Vincent pathetically gasping for air, and leans in. That Vincent can't feel the man's breath on his skin is the most unsettling part of it.

"It's so interesting," Lyfelde whispers. "How humans value air. It's so easy to rip away, don't you think?"

Vincent whimpers, scratching at the hand around his throat. Lyfelde lets go, and Vincent drops to the ground, coughing and wheezing. The moment he tries to stand, Lyfelde presses his cane to Vincent's chest. The pressure is enough to let him know that Lyfelde could break his bones and think nothing of it.

He stays still.

"Oh, you're good," Lyfelde laughs, tipping the cane so it knocks against Vincent's chin. "Look up at me."

Vincent obeys. What other option does he have?

"When was the last time someone praised you?" Lyfelde asks, like he isn't a creature holding Vincent hostage. "Other than me, of course."

"U-Um." Vincent's mind races to think of an answer. "A few… months ago? A lecturer praised my essay on- on architecture."

Lyfelde's laugh is startling, and Vincent shrinks into himself.

"I was going to drain you," Lyfelde grins, like a predator toying with his prey, and Vincent is so acutely aware that he is the prey. "Foreign student, all alone, so easy to lure in with just a little social nicety. You make the perfect victim, you really do."

No, he won't be a victim, he won't let this happen! But the moment Vincent resolves to do anything, Lyfelde leans down, and all he can do in his panic is weakly cry out in the desperate hope someone will hear him.

No-one does.

"But I think killing you would be a waste of the mind in that pretty head." Lyfelde taps Vincent's skull with his cane. Pretty? "So I'm going to offer you something."

"I d-don't--" Vincent tries not to let it show as tears fill his eyes. "Stop it, just let me--"

"Shh, shh," Lyfelde says, almost like one would to a wailing child. "Hear me out, would you? Being the way I am isn't quite so terrifying as you seem to think it is."

"I don't understand, please--"

"Shh." Lyfelde leans in closer, and Vincent shuts his mouth. "There we are. You'll understand, I think, if you see it."

Lyfelde produces a card from his coat, and places it in Vincent's trembling hands.

"My current address," Lyfelde smiles, and Vincent can see the fangs even in the darkness and he wishes he had the strength or the courage to at least try to get away. "Call on me, if you'd like. I have a few friends who you should meet. I think you'd make an excellent vampire, Vincent Maddox. You just need a little convincing."

Lyfelde lets the cane fall to the side and grips Vincent's jaw. Vincent whimpers, eyes wide, as Lyfelde tugs and forces him to bare his throat.

"Shh, now, it won't be painful," Lyfelde whispers. "I came all this way to find tonight's meal, so I may as well feed on you while I have you in my grasp."

He's truthful, in that it doesn't hurt. Vincent's hair stands on end as the fangs sink into his throat, but the least gentle thing about it is Lyfelde's iron grip on his jaw.

"There we are," Lyfelde whispers against Vincent's neck. A few drops of blood stain the tiny wounds. "If I didn't think you'd be better turned I'd take you with me. You didn't resist at all."

Vincent swallows back any protests. It isn't as though Lyfelde's wrong. Vincent didn't move a muscle. His vision swims.

"You'll be a little dizzy, but that's all," Lyfelde grins, and picks up his cane. "Have a good night, Vincent Maddox!"

He calls it behind him as he walks away, leaving Vincent's awkward tangle of limbs on the ground. Vincent fidgets with the card, turning it between his fingers. There's not a thought in his mind, just the dazed recollection of the past few minutes and the horrible racing of his heart.

He puts it in his pocket when he finally tries to get up. There's nothing that could make him return to the gathering now, so he simply resolves to stumble home.

What is he supposed to make of any of this? He was just attacked. And yet a part of him is considering Lyfelde's offer.

Call on me. For what, exactly? Lyfelde seemed to imply that he wanted Vincent to become a vampire too. Vincent wants to dismiss it as utter nonsense. He can't.

Lyfelde called him intelligent. So surely he's intelligent enough to understand what he would be walking into, were he to accept. But Lyfelde didn't turn him right then and there. He wants to watch. Wait. Convince him.

Vincent can always say no, in the end, can he not?

[justasecretwriter]

Secrets (Jotun!Loki x Reader)

Title | Secrets

Summary | Loki has a secret, and it's his biggest, most well kept secret ever. And you've just found out.

Pairings | Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader (reads like an OC)

Genre | Angst to Smut to Angst to Fluff (happy ending)

Story Warnings/Kinks | Swearing, Internalized Racism, General Racism, Loki Needs Therapy, Lots of Feels, Yelling, Sex, Oral, Handjobs, Choking, Praise

Translations | None.

Author's Note | OMG TWO HUNDRED OF YOU PEOPLE ACTUALLY READ MY STUFF. THANKS.

This is not exactly canon because I made him half elf too, to explain his differences from other Frost Giants.

Words | 3,869

Saturdays were my favorite because on Saturdays, the entire team was gone. Tony said they went on some training. I honestly didn't care where they went. All I knew was that it was quiet, and I could do whatever I wanted.

I woke that morning with a smile already bubbling on my face. I had so many plans; I was going to try to bake cookies from scratch, rewatch all the Harry Potter movies, and finally finish a puzzle I'd been working on for weeks. But my heart stopped when I walked into the kitchen and saw a note lying on the counter.

Y/N, as you know Thor's brother is still under eval to be an Avenger, so we couldn't bring him on this training exercise, so if you could, keep an eye on him.

Tony

Great. Just great. Now I couldn't have the whole day alone because I had to babysit. With a groan, I made myself a cup of coffee and went to look for Loki.

If I remembered Thor's teasing right, he got up fairly early so he should have been around here somewhere. I wasn't going to hover but try my best to still get my stuff done, though I figured I should peek in on him occasionally.

When he wasn't in his room, or the library, I wandered down to the gym. Even gods had to work to keep up that kind of body, right? Apparently I was right because when I entered the gym I saw Loki. Or at least, what I think was Loki?

He had Loki’s face and hair but his skin was all a beautiful blue, neither light nor dark, and there were lighter blue lines all over his body, almost like tattoos. He wore workout shorts and did appear to be training; he was throwing daggers at a target and hitting a bullseye everytime before using magic to bring the dagger back.

I couldn’t help the gasp the left my mouth, making him spin around. It was indeed Loki in some form, but the biggest shoker was his eyes. Even the parts that were supposed to be white were a bright red, and his irises were an even darker red.

Horror shot across his face and he slowly started changing, shifting back to the Loki I recognized with pale white skin and green eyes. I realized as he shifted that in the blue form he was maybe half a foot taller as well—as if Loki needed to be any taller.

“Loki?” I knew it was stupid but it was the only thing that came to mind.

He approached me slowly, gulping and playing with his fingers. "I am… sorry." He murmured.

"What was that?"

"Something I did not intend for you to see. I figured everyone was on the training trip, I did not realize…"

"Can we talk about it?"

"No!" He said very quickly. "Let us pretend it never happened."

"Loki, I can't do that."

He huffed and bit the inside of his lip. "Well no one would believe you anyway."

"Who said I was going to tell?"

He seemed taken back by that, and tilted his head. Stepping closer so that we were barely a foot apart, Loki hesitated.

"I am adopted. Thor knows not, and I would prefer it if it stayed that way, hmm?" He arched his brow and instinctively, I nodded.

He left the gym and I realized I was still frozen. What the hell just happened. Loki wasn't Asgardian? Is that what he was saying? And how could Thor not know?

So, I did the only thing I knew to do when in a situation with Loki. I called Thor.

"Hey, so I had a question." I said when he answered. "Do you know of any humanoid species that's blue with red eyes?"

"With weird skin?"

"Yes. I found a picture in an old Norse book but I can't read any of it."

"Well that sounds like a Frost Giant. They are from Jotunheim. Loki killed Laufey, the King, years ago. To the best of my knowledge the nation has been in shambles since."

Why would Loki kill his own king? It was all becoming more confusing but at least now I had a name for it, so I could study more.

"Okay, thanks Thor."

"Anytime Little One. How is Loki, have you seen him?"

"Uhh… He was in the gym earlier but I haven't seen him since." I wasn't sure if that counted as a lie but my face heated up just as quickly as it usually did when I was lying.

"Well, just keep an eye on him. We will be back in the morning."

"See you then," I hung up and took a deep breath.

There was a Frost Giant, from a different realm, who I believed was an enemy of Asgard, just upstairs. How the hell was I supposed to process that information?

I raced to my bedroom and pulled out my computer to search up more about them. Were they dangerous? Did they have powers? Should I be scared of Loki?

Most would say yes by default since he was technically an alien like Thor but I'd never been all that scared of Loki. Maybe it was because he'd never been violent towards me, but he was never frightening in my eyes.

But the more I Googled, the more confused I got. I understand that often mythology got things wrong but there was so many different theories and mythologies on Frost Giants.

After an hour and forty-two groans, I gave up and went to Loki's room down the hall. Knocking vigorously, I only half expected him to answer. Low and behold, he did, and as soon as be saw me, he farted his eyes away.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't." He replied.

"Yes, we do. Now let me in." I shoved past him and into his room.

Honestly, it looked a little like you'd expect. Lots of green and black, lots of books scattered about, but most of the room was very tidy. I nearly snorted; the bed was made even.

I sat on the bed gently and looked at him expectedly. He sighed heavily and sat a few feet from me.

"You have questions,"

"Obviously."

"Okay, then let's start from the beginning since I don't ever remember even having one conversation with you." He held out his hand. "Hello, my name is Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Jotunheim. I go by Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard."

I shook his hand.

"Prince of Jotunheim? Laufey was your father?"

He nodded.

"You killed your father?"

He shrugged and nodded again.

"Thor doesn't know?"

"Only Odin and Frigga know. It is Asgard's best kept secret, one of their own is their greatest enemy."

"So, you normally look like this…" I waved a hand towards him and he offered a small grin.

"This is my Asgardian form, thanks to my magic. And what you saw earlier was my birth form."

"And why can't Thor know?"

"Thor hates Frost Giants."

I frowned. Surely he wouldn't hate his own brother. But then again, Thor and Loki didn't do a whole lot of getting along, maybe the news of Loki's true heritage would push them over the edge.

"Y/N, this must stay between us. Nobody can know."

I bit my lip.

"Okay," I agreed. "Under one condition,"

His eyes immediately narrowed and he leaned away from me.

"Can I see it again?"

He seemed to be thinking for a minute. "Fine, but you should also know that there are other spells I have to go under while I'm in that form."

"Why?"

"Well, one touch and I could kill you from frostbite. So I go under a spell to prevent accidental death. And in that form, anything I walk near or touch freezes in an instant. And well, I like my bed soft and not frozen."

"Okay."

He hesitated before I saw the transition slowly. First his skin bled blue and then the lines spread on his skin like vines. They looked beautiful, like tattoos almost. He opened his eyes, showing the nearly glowing red that beamed from them.

I looked at his face as I reached my hand towards him, making sure it was okay. He never stopped me. I touched his arm slowly, tracing the lines where they disappeared beneath his shirt.

I saw his hand twitch before he reached behind him and pulled the t-shirt off, throwing it in his pillow.

He was beautiful. Of course he'd always been handsome, I wasn't blind. But this blue, the designs, the abs…

There were two prominent lines that went down his chest and under his pants, and I traced one of those. He felt cool to the touch, but not frostbite cold.

There were more lines on his face that curved and dipped in certain places, but I wasn't sure how he would feel about me actually touching his face.

"I'm actually not a full Frost Giant, at least not according to my blood. I don't exactly look like other Frost Giants, but if you look at my ears…" He turned his head and I smiled, his ears were very pointed, which I knew wasn't natural to his Asgardian form, I would have noticed.

"So you're half Frost Giant and half…?"

"Light Elf, according to my DNA. My father is from Jotunheim and my mother is from Alfheim. It's why I have these ears and why I'm smaller than the other Frost Giants. I'm the result of an affair, which is why Laufey abandoned me, leading Odin to find and adopt me."

I traced the point of his ear lightly, smiling. I went to reach and trace his face too but stopped. Loki didn't seem like the kind who liked to be touched, so maybe I should've stopped.

But then he shocked me; he grabbed my hand and touched his face with it, giving me permission. I bit my lip and ran my thumb along the lines adorning his cheekbones.

"Beautiful," I whispered, blushing.

"Right," He laughed and I tilted my head. "I'm a monster, Y/N."

"No you're not. Look at you, you're beautiful."

I got up on my knees on the bed and crawled closer, putting both my hands on his face to feel more. His red eyes met mine.

"You are not scared?"

"No," I whispered.

He took a deep breath and I let my hands follow the lines down from his face to his neck and onto his chest. When he shifted, I looked up at his face. He looked uncomfortable.

"Too much?"

"No, it's alright." I kept going but he never really quit squirming.

"What's the matter?" I finally asked, sitting back and letting my hands fall.

He sighed, looking away. "I've never shown anyone this form, let alone let them touch it. And at the very least, I expected you to be disgusted and you're not."

"Sorry to disappoint."

He only rolled his eyes.

"Are there lines on your back too?"

"I don't know." He turned away from me and I got on my knees. "I only ever use this form for certain magic practices. It's useful in some situations."

"You do have lines on your back," I murmured, tracing them. "They're beautiful."

An overwhelming urge came over me to kiss one on his shoulder blade and I had to take deep, thought repressing breaths for a few minutes before I could touch him again.

"The really awful part about this? I'm the God of Lies and I always know when someone is lying. There's not even a hint of a lie in you when you say that."

"Well of course not," I replied, tracing one line that went from his shoulder blade and over to his chest. "I like this form of yours."

He shuttered suddenly and my brows shoved together. Frost Giants couldn't get cold, could they?

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." Oh something was definitely wrong; I'd never heard Loki's voice crack before like that.

I went back to the front and looked at his face. His red eyes were swelling with tears.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He just shook his head, looking away and taking deep breaths.

I put my hand on his chest. "Loki you can trust me."

"I know."

"Then what's the matter?"

He looked back over at me and wavered on some decision I didn't know. But I didn't have time to ask anymore questions before he leaned over and pushed his lips into mine.

I gasped, letting him kiss me, even kissing him back. But I was confused, shouldn't he have been angry with me for not reacting as he'd planned? I wasn't going to stop him though, not when kissing him felt this good.

He pulled back, and I let out an embarrassing whine, chasing his cold lips for more.

"I'm sorry," He gasped out.

"I'm not," I grabbed his hair and tried to kiss him again but he kept backing away from me. I nearly wanted to stomp and pout.

"I-we… shouldn't." He was almost panting and I felt his eyes searching for mine but I couldn't look away from his blue lips. They, like his lines, were a light blue.

"Why not? I want to. I think you want to."

He hesitated, biting his lip, and sighed again. "It can be dangerous… Frost Giants and humans…"

"In what way?"

"Sometimes if a Frost Giant is with someone they actually know or actually care about, a sort of heat kicks in. They can't control themselves and they can't stop until they are satisfied. Humans aren't exactly indestructible."

I realized the hidden meaning in his words. It only happened with someone they cared about; he cared about me.

"I can take it." I insisted.

"Y/N…"

"Please," I realized I must have sounded pathetic but I couldn't help it. He was too irresistible and his natural form was just… I couldn't resist if I tried.

He hesitated and I climbed into his lap, cupping his cheeks and letting my fingers trace.

"If I can go back to my Asgardian—"

"No! I want you like this, please."

I kissed him and he groaned, grabbing my hips and kissing me harshly. I pressed against his cold body to try and ease some of the heat spreading throughout me, but it only made it worse.

"Loki," I moaned, grabbing his hair and kissing him harder. I rolled my hips against his crotch and he groaned loudly.

Rolling over me, he pushed me to the bed and kissed along my neck. "I won't be able to stop, I've wanted you too long." He reminded me.

"Good," I reached up, biting the pointy tip of his ear. He whined and snapped, making all our clothes disappear in an instant. I shivered at the sudden chill of being pressed against him.

I reached in between our bodies to grab his cock and gasped at how big it was.

"Loki that is not going to fit."

Laughing, he kissed my collarbones and further down on my chest, shimmying down my body.

"Sure it will, I just need to get you ready."

Winking, he grabbed my thighs as he came face to face with my heat. He spread my legs, exposing me to him completely and making me whimper.

"Now, now, no whining." He teased me. "You wanted this, remember?" I nodded and he suddenly licked a strong swipe through my folds.

I cried out his name, grabbing his hair and trying to force him closer.

"Loki!" I whined. "More!"

His cold tongue pressed against my clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. I moaned, throwing my head back and bucking my hips. He pinned my hips down and glared at me in warning.

"You take what I give you." He growled. "Nothing more and nothing less, understood?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Yes what?"

"Yes sir." I caved, laying back and panting as he kept his teasing for nearly twenty minutes before plunging two fingers inside me randomly.

"Oh god, Loki! That feels so good!"

He curled his fingers, hitting all my spots while watching my face. I screamed silently, trying not to buck my hips as my back arched.

"Loki I-fuck, I'm gonna cum."

And just like that, he stopped and sat up, making me whine out with tears in my eyes.

He lazily rubbed his cock while leaning over me and forcing his lips into mine. Tasting myself made me whimper against his lips, but what he did next really set me off.

He took my hand and wrapped it around his cock, making me jerk him off. He started kissing my chest and biting my nipples while I rubbed his cock hard and fast, trying my best to please him.

"Please sir, please fuck me. I'll be good, I promise."

"You think you can take it?" He growled, biting hard on my breast.

I moaned, touching him faster.

"Yes! Please, please, please!"

He sat up quickly, pushing my hand off and spreading my legs again. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He shoved inside me quickly, harsh and unforgiving. I cried out, grabbing his sides to try and slow his pace some, to convince him I needed some adjusting, but he had been right, he couldn't stop.

Throwing my ankles into his shoulders, he moaned loud and fucked into me harder as the pain slowly eased, bleeding into pleasure.

"Fuck Y/N, so fucking tight, so good for me. You're gonna be good and let me cum in you? Let me breed you?"

I threw my head back, grabbing the headboard for some kind of brace as I screamed his name.

His cock shoved further inside me, hitting some pleasure point I'd never felt before as he kept moaning.

"Yes Loki, oh god."

"I am your god." He growled, suddenly grabbing my throat and squeezing.

I suddenly felt myself gushing even more. He smirked wickedly as he realized and felt it too.

"Oh you like that, don't you? You like being choked like a whore."

I whined too loud and thrusted my hips into him, trying to get his dick further inside me.

He squeezed my throat hard and started moaning as he fucked me faster, sloppier. His unoccupied hand went to rubbing harsh circles on my clit and then licking the juices off his fingers before returning.

"Oh fuck, oh Loki please! I'm gonna cum! Please let me cum!"

"You're mine." He growled. "Say it. Say you're mine and I'll let you cum."

He was actively panting now so I knew he must have been getting close too. I pulled him towards me, clawing his cold back and looked into his red eyes which were fighting to roll back.

"I'm yours." I cried out, trying desperately not to cum until he gave me permission. "I'm yours, fuck. Please let me cum!"

"Cum with me!" He growled as I felt his cock twitching before I felt his cool cum spilling into me.

My whole body relaxed and Loki collapsed on the bed next to me, gasping for breath. I reached down to feel his cum spilling from me and noticed one thing in particular before sleep took me. It has an almost slushy-like consistency.

—

I awoke to yelling and sat up groggily. It looked to be late at night and I was still in Loki's room.

I stood quickly, stumbling until I found the light switch. I could hear lots of incoherent shouting downstairs but I couldn't tell who it was. Searching, I remembered that Loki took off my clothes with magic and I had no idea where they were.

I opened his closet and quickly found skinny jeans and a T-shirt. They were a bit big on me and I had to roll up the bottoms of the jeans, but they were better than nothing.

When I left the elevator that led to the main living space I was shocked at the scene. The whole team was there and were trying to pull Thor—who was throwing punches—away from Loki, who was shouting back at his brother, in his Asgardian form.

"What the hell?" I yelled and Thor glared at me. "What's going on?"

"Frost Giants, huh?" He growled, and then stormed off into the kitchen.

I looked at Loki and then the rest of the team, before Loki stepped towards me, with his hands out in an almost defensive looking position.

"They decided not to spend the night there and leave you alone with a guy you hardly know, so they came back early. And when Thor went to check on me, he saw us. I had accidentally fallen asleep before shifting back."

I felt my whole face fall as I realized what he was saying. Not only did the whole team know we had sex, but the secret of Loki's heritage was out.

"Oh, Loki," I put my hand on his bicep, frowning. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for—"

"Nonsense," He interrupted. "It's not your fault."

I peaked at the rest of the team who was watching us. "How bad is it?" I whispered.

"Tony is angry. Natasha is proud. Steve is grossed out and Dr. Banner is intrigued about the science of cross species intercourse."

I nodded.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked, not meeting his eyes.

He put his index finger under my chin and forced my eyes to his. I resisted the urge to sigh at the disappointment that they weren't red.

"No, and it is you who should be angry with me."

"Well, I'm not. I told you, it doesn't bother me."

He looked at the team and stood a little straighter. "Apologies for the drama." And with that, he took my hand and pulled me to the elevator.

Once inside, I turned to him.

"Do you regret it?" I whispered.

"What? No. Of course not."

"What did Thor say?"

"Nothing he meant." He whispered, making my heart break. "Thor will come around, it just might take him a while."

"Then why do you still seem upset?"

He sighed, turning towards me and cupping my cheeks.

"Did you mean what you said? That you're mine?"

I thought about it for a minute.

"If that's what you want, I'm not opposed."

He grinned a bit. "Neither am I."

I leaned up and kissed him with an edge of desperation. He pulled me closer and grabbed my hips.

"I'm yours," He whispered. "And you're mine."

"I'm yours and you're mine." I echoed before stretching on my toes to kiss him again.

Loki Taglist

@vbecker10 @lulubelle814

[jbucb]

BCD: Chapter four; Smooth and sly.

Dbf!Bucky Barnes x reader

Chapter warnings: anxiety attack implied? Age gap, Planes, Playful banter, Slowburn, Pining? A good bit of fluff.

(Bucky is 38 and Reader is 23) Foreword, Chapter five precceds this chapter.

Series masterlist // Main masterlist

"That was very sly of you, Barnes," I quietly tease, all while the flight attendant goes on her safety spewl.

"Mmm, I'm sly and smooth," he chuckles softly. "Now, put your head on my shoulder so you can relax and close your eyes." His tone is slightly joking, but for the most part, I could tell he was serious.

I sigh softly, but I do it anyway. I might act like I don't want to be this close to him, but I'd be lying if I didn't say my inner teenager was screaming.

As I lay my head on his shoulder, he faintly smiles, and the plane begins taxiing onto the runway.

"Take as many deep breaths as you need. I'm right here for you the whole time." His voice holds that soft rumble, not quite like gravel but more like honeyed whiskey.

I hadn't realized my hand had worked its way up to his forearm, slightly gripping out of nervousness.

   He looks over "You grabbing onto me? I can't let you go flying away," he says jokingly. It's moments like this that really reveal how much of a dork Bucky Barnes is. Though the scenario is different, it brings me comfort that it truly is the same Bucky Barnes I've come to know over the years. I appreciate that we decided to ease into it, giving us time to be comfortable with each other in a different light. This week was going to be good, and nobody but ourselves would know it was anything but a 4th of July trip to Seattle.

The plane has been in the air for about an hour. The engines are loud, but I've tuned out the sound; it's much like white noise. Sitting with Bucky makes it all better. I look over and see his head leaned back, and his eyes are closed.

"Are you sleeping?" I ask quietly.

"Mhhmhm," he mumbles. He isn't asleep; he's just enjoying your presence. "Are you okay?" He asks, his eyes still closed. He has a soft smile and a look of relaxation on his face. He's at peace right now.

I hum out a yes to his question.

"You really are an old man." I clearly use a teasing tone to show that I'm not truly trying to pick on him. I roll my eyes. "Sorry, um, I can stop talking. Tell me to shut up or something."

"Nah, it's fine. I'm used to it at this point," he mumbles. "I'm not complaining.

"Wow, that was cold." I feigned shock.

He's smirking, though his eyes are still closed. "I can get colder than that," he chuckles, "if I really try..." His tone was joking.

I lean the top of my head over, just resting it against his shoulder. This close to him, I feel safe and protected.

like I'm home; his arm surrounds me like a blanket of gentle warmth; I smile softly and sigh contentedly.

"You tired?" He whispers, and I can tell he's smiling when he says, "You can take a nap if you like," in a slightly teasing tone.

"Yeah," I whisper, "I'm kind of tired." I admit, "Are you comfortable with that?" I lean my head more onto his shoulder. "I'll be good, I promise." My tone is joking.

"I've told you before, and I'll say it as many times as you need to hear." His voice is smooth and soothing, just like honeyed whiskey. "I'm okay with anything as long as you're comfortable and safe," he says softly. "Now, I want you to close your eyes for me and get some sleep," he softly sighs. "It's a long flight, for you at least," he states. He's right, it is a long flight for me; we still have a little over four hours to go.

The plane lands and I can feel the wheels hitting the runway, I'm just waking up, I haven't moved from his shoulder, he's still holding Me and stroking my hair, I can smell his cologne, it's soft, it's subtle, it smells like him "we're here" he whispers.

I feel his hand rub to the top of my arm, and it sends tingles through me

He takes a deep breath "ready to do this?" He whispers.

"Not really..." I say in a quiet voice, "but I'm ready to get this over with." I sigh and sit up

I notice his eyes are staring at me, there's something different about them, his voice is calm and soft, his expression is gentle and caring, he's smiling softly.

"We can wait if you'd like, I have nothing but time right now" he seems a bit concerned by my reaction "what's wrong? How do you feel?"

He looks genuinely concerned "I want this to be special for you, okay?"

"I don't know, okay... I know I'm ready, and I'm ready right now, I'm just... Nervous" I look back at him, he still holds my arm, it sends a chill through my body, "I just don't want this to be... Awkward or whatever" I mumble, "I've been waiting for this my entire life... You're the best guy for it, I know you'll be gentle with me... I know you'd treat me right"

He smiles softly at me, "you don't have to worry about anything, okay?" He rubs a circle with his thumb on my back "we'll go as slow as you need, and if you'd rather stop once we get things started, we can stop when you want to, okay?"

"You're safe with me, I promise you that." He smiles "now, come on, let's get out of this plane." He chuckles and you two walk down the stairs.

[plexiglasssheets]

Pine-ing part 1

Fuck it fiddauthor fic probably will multi part | Cross posted on Ao3 ================================

1982 Dec 17,

F was having somewhat reasonable holiday with drawls. His family away, I could sympathize with him. It had been a long time since I've sat with my family for anything. A homed cooked meal became a distant taste, as my cooking skills are mediocre to non existent. It being a Saturday it seemed reasonable to go into the town for a meal. We went to the diner that he loves, he said their bacon and syrup pair together like no other.

I take his word for it, as odd food combinations were never my thing, Stanley used to do something similar wit-

He went to walk around the town, but I couldn't just drive back home and leave him in the snowy town. I never liked walking about but the trip seemed to be doing F well so what's an hour or so walking around.

There was a library but I combed through that my first month here, to little interest. There was a coffee shop but it was far too populated to give any sense of relax. But then I found it, a book shop.

Empty, Dusty and may have smelled of dead cat. It was fantastic. The lights were old with that nice yellow glow, flickering and loud. The shelves were a dark wood and dusty beyond belief, perhaps a walnut, wood was never my thing. The back was practically made for me, hand written accounts and journals, ecological studies and records that were the only copies.

To say I was excited was an understatement. The cashier was a fine looking young gentleman, most likely my age. He seemed kind enough so I thought nothing of it when he watch me move around the shop. With the state of the shop I can safely assume that he doesn't get many costumers.

I went to purchase my books, and the worker was very friendly. The first person here that shared my intrigue with it oddities. Complementing my book choices no less.

Then F walked in, he had two coffees and his satchel seemed bigger so safe to assume he bought other things. But there was a look to his face the same one he gives me when I talk to my muse for 'too long' in his words. I always took it as him being perhaps unsure of the greater power. I was never good at reading emotions, but have I mistaken his jealously? It would seem so if I knew what there was to be jealous about.

But the coffee he brought me was perfect. The way I love in, black coffee, no sugar, no creamer. Me and F left after I put my books in my own bag.

The cashier asked for my phone number to discuss books later, which I don't have as my equipment interferes with any telephone lines so I had to decline. I would have said I be back but I'd be lying if did, as me and F's schedule wouldn't fit a whole other escapade to town.

I would have explained but F seemed to want to leave so I politely declined.

We made way back to my truck and started to drive up the long rode to my cabin. Another moment I was grateful for the coffee. As my car absorbs what ever weather is outside and triples it.

Bitter caffeine as a hand warm what could be better. I would have played my favorite CD of eurythmics, but F was never a fan. Recently buying me an ABBA's singles when he went to the grocery store last month for that very reason. He was idlily tapping to the music, but he seemed off.

He was upset.

I was never one for emotions or feelings. I was always the logic, that's what I was good at. I can solve equations the length of a room but can't figure out how to ask a frie what upset him. We were a few minutes from my place, I was internally fighting if I should speak, but I understood people enough to know I Should, just I didn't know what exactly to say.

I asked him what he got. Great start, he's engaged and if he doesn't want to talk he doesn't have to. Perfect.

A present for his son.

Shit.

He got divorced last year, as she wanted him to be with them. I didn't know much, its was just messy. He missed his son, not so his wife but it was a touchy subject.

I forgot most enjoy time with family.

Family hasn't been the same for a while so sending holiday letters sufficed any familial need. Meeting F at collage, he is the only other person who hasn't cared about my freakishness, that I'm ever grateful for him. And I can't help but feel guilty about his family problems. He wouldn't have left if I didn't ask. The more to value his companionship.

He asked about my own purchases, and told him. The journals, the record reports, the primary historical recounts. An utter drug to my brain, he seemed to be engaged till I mentioned the book seller.

Off put? Upset? He wasn't happy. Bitter? Maybe, but I suppose that mixed with his family business upset him. But I didn't know how to ask. 'hey F why are you so upset about a bookseller?'

Stupid, I know, but easy to ignore.

We pulled into the drive way and rushed inside and hung our frosted coats. It was my turn to make dinner, F went off to his room to read like he does. But unlike usual he came down while I was still cooking. He seemed less upset which was good, he sat at the table and watch me cook as he read a book.

I was no chef, so I felt so- observed. It was no different then when we worked, me doing a tasks as he read. But this felt, intimate? for lack of better word. The dim kitchen light blub that was in desperate need of a change flickered its orange hue that filled that small room.

It was a Friday, so it was so it was excusable for the two of us to have a beer or two while we watch trash television the living room. F hated them but I had a soft spot for them as they were what plagued the tv set my mother had.

We barely watched the show and more added our own commentary, We cracked much needed dumb jokes in the tv lit room. Its blue filter light our only sources to see.

F had his glasses off, and was sat next to me on the couch.

It felt right.

A feeling that felt long distance that he only seemed to bring.

Its no mystery that girls were a mystery to me. Relationships felt so unnecessary, and I dance around the thought of the alterative. Which- I don't think I'll go into now.

He commented something about some 3? maybe for 4 dramatized way relationship that was going on. His dead seriousness made it possible to not laugh out. Holding my stomach and bending over, sides hurting. One of those that aren't funny but still somehow are.

That night was nice. It was a good refresher, I bid him good night and headed to bed myself. Sleep was different, usually I'm so exhausted I pass out, but tonight I just couldn't. My thoughts were somewhere else.

[tobiasdrake]

One last task to take care of before we infiltrate Fort Fleshy.

I was twiddling them earlier when I was flying around the map just to see what I could find. This place is definitely an intricate combination lock.

Could be the key to releasing Duke Aventry. Might just be Roro's porn stash. Either way, we won't know until we've cracked it. Personally, I think we should forego the lock and just bring Yolande in to blow this support column to hell.

Sure, we can also do that. Yoyo knows everything and is loyal to no one, so there's no reason she wouldn't assist us but no guarantee that she would either. Worth a shot.

Your swamp is a maze and I hate it. Give me useful information or I'll make your other eye look like the one I'm wearing on this necklace.

...

I mean. Good afternoon, Yoyo. What a pleasant day we're having. Could you possibly help me break into your sister's porn stash?

Yep. Got it. Just like the Watchmaker. Not motivated enough to directly assist us but also not motivated enough to put up with the violence that's going to ensue if you don't. One whole "Not My Fucking Problem", served and delivered.

I've seen these runes before. I remember wondering what they were about. But the Roro Heist was so long ago, I'd forgotten.

Thanks, Yoyo. This was a fairly neutral level of non-assistance. Your cauldron didn't even tell me anything new; Just reminded me of answers I've already witnessed.

Here we go. The most closely-held secrets of the embodiment of evil incarnate....

...are a backdoor into this vault we've already been in. Okay but why tho.

What is even the point of this? The combination to the lock is written on the wall, and if you take that combination to an island off the coast and enter it into a secret crypt, it will open a passage to bring you right back here but now the treasure's unlocked.

This is the most roundabout key I've ever seen. Only a truly despicable mind would come up with something so needlesly convo-

...

Oh.

That's what the convoluted circuit loop lock is guarding? Roro makes this whole trip every single time she wants to write a new entry?

Well. We did not find her porn stash. Instead, we found her daily workout regimen. An awkward way to get your steps in but credit where it's due, it means she can't skip out on the routine.

Hold up, she repurposed your journal into her own? That is a whole new layer of domineering.

You need to get out of this relationship, my dude. Like. I think it's pretty clear at this point that she does not respect your personal space at all.

There is a vacancy. We butchered the creature that was occupying it, so if you want to go back, you can.

Oh cool, new Ferry ticket.

Honestly, not 100% sure why Aventry wanted us to come here. Unless this is the place he has fond memories of or something.

I dunno. We'll smash and grab first, then sift through the loot and figure out what we're supposed to do with it later.

Oh shit, it's Roro's private residence. That's what he gave us. I guess that other place was just her work office.

...do you think she'll be happy to see us? I guess there's really only one way to find out. *clears throat* HEY BESTIE--

How have you been? Raised any cool horrors lately? I saw your sister the other day, she seemed to be doing... adequately.

Anyway, we gotta talk about your boy. You're keeping the leash wound a little too tight and--

Okay, but was it really your journal? He had it first. How does that saying go? Two wrongs balance each other out and make everything ultimately fine.

But also that's lame and I prefer it when things are unbalanced in my favor, so now I need to rob you even more.

You heard her, team. We're looking for a locket. Fan out and--

Oh, yeah. We're old pals. It's just too bad she keeps her place in such a miserable state. Look at this place. Bones and flesh just lying strewn about.

I'd offer to help clean up but honestly, that sounds like too much work. Zale, you're pretty good with clutter, why don't you sweep the place.

There we go. Nice and spotless.

Ah, this brings back memories. There's something nostalgic about it. You never really forget your first armed robbery.

Pleasure doing business with you.

You know, we have to stop meeting like this. You going about your day. Me, beating the shit out of you and taking your things. It's getting stale. Why don't we do lunch sometime or something, just for a change of pace?

I think we hurt her feelings. Do... do you want to talk about it?

Uh, Roro says you're fired, by the way. Can't say I've ever been given a gift-with-purchase for a robbery before but she handed me the pink slip right along with the locket.

Yeah, I thought it was weird too.

Better luck in the next life, man. Hope the person waiting for you will treat you better.

[spiralwriting]

Floyd Leech x Introverted! Reader

Third person narrative

Gender neutral

Fluff

Everyone has a social battery, and it recharges depending on how many people you interact with and who you surround yourself with during the course of a day. For some, more is better and for others... not so much.

I'm the latter.

Although it's not Because I hate people or interacting with them, it's just so draining having to keep up with more than one person at a time, multiple times a day; it gets exhausting. So, instead of going out with friends and partying late into the night, as many other students here tend to do, I just recline into the cleanest piece of furniture in my dusty dorm and watch a comedy without worrying about people barging in and ruining my comfortable solitude.

Well... Normally that's the case. Sometimes Ace is once again cast from his dorm after another broken rule, often dragging Duece not too far behind. Sometimes it's Epel desperate to escape the clutches of Vil for just one night. These interruptions are regular, but never enough to run me ragged because I didn't get enough alone time before the morning.

Although, I've been more and more fatigued lately, thanks to a certain cunning eel. Floyd Leech: any introvert's worse nightmare and greatest enemy. People like Floyd are the ones that drag you every which way in a futile attempt to quench their boredom, taking pleasure in tormenting quiet kids like me that are too polite to say otherwise. His ability to drain me of any previous energy in the short space of an hour is truly a feat, something he's mastered and something he most definitely enjoys.

Though... I'd be lying if I said he was a complete nuance. Sure, he's erratic and unpredictable, but when his day has been trying and he's on his last thread, mood seemingly beyond repair, he seems to quite enjoy his trips to ramshackle. For once, he's quiet and still, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, head on a clenched fist as he glares daggers at the TV, and that's how he'll remain until the silly show finally cracks a laugh out of him. Then, before we know it, Jade's knocking at the door and dragging Floyd with him to return to Octavinelle for the night, kicking and screaming the whole way out the door as I wave them off and leave to head to bed myself.

How this started, I genuinely don't know, but it's become an almost nightly ritual. He storms in, slamming the door, stomping to the couch and throwing himself down on the dusty cushions. I ask a simple question: 'sit in silence?' and he'll only grunt in return. Every time it happens, it happens in the same predictable way, I'm honestly surprised he hasn't gotten bored of it yet.

I've often wondered why he enjoys our quiet time so much, and I'm left with silly, half-truths that he flings around carelessly. However, it's obvious that Floyd just doesn't want me to know the truth, not willing to be seen as vulnerable, too afraid to be taken advantage of in the same way he's done to many others.

But it's clear that having someone who doesn't reminisce about when he wasn't as fickle as a child like Jade or Azul or doesn't call him selfish and shallow like many others, is a refreshing and welcome change. He just wants someone who merely understands that this is how he is, no way around it and doesn't try to change his mood to fit what they think it should be. Someone who accepts him for him. Someone willing and patient to sit and wait it out with him.

So, I don't let the sharp expression and threatening posture throw me off as I sit with him, simply waiting like I know he wants me to. He appreciates it, that much is clear. It makes him feel human, accepted, seen and most importantly, it makes him feel loved.

And he wouldn't choose to have it any other way.

[youmeshii]

han yujin × reader

warning ; she/her pronouns used, the f word is said ONCE, intentional lowercase, not proof read (i wrote this in 40 mins 💀), im younger than yujin i have the right to write this

tags ; no beta we die like real men, friends to (possible) lovers, tooth-rotting-ish fluff, yujin is a living and breathing staring contest bc hes awkward n i love him

a/n ; unfortunately, i will be delaying the publishing of my gunwook fic cause i'd like for it to be the best of the bestest but i wanted to spice up my page a lil bit and coincidentally, i have an awful yujin brainrot. so yujin drabble!!!!!

wc ; 0.6k

hold me close and say you care, 'cause i'm in love with your black hair ♪

"fuck, my headphones died." you groaned in annoyance, yujin's stare bearing into your skull. it would've been okay if it died back at home but on a road trip in the middle of nowhere, you don't have a lot of options.

your eyes travel to his, finally snapping him out of the spell you put on him. "yes?" your head tilts as you ask. he thinks it's the cutest thing he ever saw.

now feeling a little awkward, he looks down onto his bag and starts rummaging through his things. confusion still displays on your face yet you continue to watch his doings.

he pulls out a badly tangled bundle of earphones. "you can use this...?" he hesitated, you almost couldn't tell if it was a statement or not.

you let out a small laugh and his guard finally drops, laughing along with you. sure, he was all awkward and shy around you, but he still cared enough to offer a way for you to continue listening to your music.

"if it wasn't so tangled, i might be able to." you said, remnants of your laugh left on your face and made itself into a wide smile.

his cheeks started glowing with a rosy color as he pauses for a second before trying to untangle his earphones. why is it so tangled? why can't he get it out? this is his only chance!

"need some help there?" he jolts up at your voice and just blanks out. he looked like a child who just got caught eating too many candies. panicked on the inside, completely still on the outside.

you laugh at his still figure. his awkwardness from this whole situation made this so much funnier for you. grabbing his earphones, you test your luck and attempt to untangle it yourself.

"i think you tangled it even more." you joked, swiftly untangling the wires and putting them in their respective places. due to the gods' luck and pure will power, you successfully untangled the earphones.

out of a sudden, yujin suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. you turned to look at him and his flushed face. you weren't very close, but it's nice to know he isn't just shy smiles and awkward laughs.

connecting the earphones to your phone, you open spotify and tapped on your most used playlist. on shuffle, you heard one of your favorite love songs.

"oh! yujin!" you called his name, his eyes automatically locking themselves onto you like he has so many times. he always looks at you with so much intent, it was honestly really cute.

"wanna share? one of my favorite songs' playing." you extended your arm to give him one of the earphones, him politely accepting.

he looked at the title, "1999" by beabadoobee. he mentally noted that it's one of your favorites and to listen to it again, of course.

"hold me close and say you care, cause i'm in love with your black hair~" you sang absentmindedly. little did you know, the boy next to you was stunned. he didn't know if it was because of your singing, or the fact that you changed the lyrics.

why did she say black hair? the song clearly said brown hair. he was confused. was it really for him?

the song continues playing as yujin's emotions only grew stronger. somehow, he felt like he was feeling everything all at once. he couldn't explain it, it was too complex.

nearing the end of the song, you hummed the lyrics joyfully. his eyes still boring into you, just as it was so many times before.

you turned to face him, "the lyrics are really pretty, right?" he stared right back into your eyes, a new feeling erupting in him and seeping into the way he stared at you.

"yeah, they're really pretty."

[cherry-velvet-skies]

It is time for the finale of the Beatles Era Ratings series ❤ This series was so fun I don't want it to end lol

Episode 4: Paul McCharmly 😁 And as of now all four parts are available in my Masterlist if you haven't seen the others 🥰

Archie Comics Character (Pre-Beatles Era)

Tell me he doesn't look like a 50s/60s cartoon character

Simultaneously looks 18 years old and 8 years old this kid's a fucking wizard

He has the vibe of those people who seem super cool but talk to them for too long and they get real annoying real fast

4/10 his only skill is his seemingly endless inventory of cheesy pickup lines

Petulant Schoolboy (1962)

Resting Pout Face ™️

There is a certain level of entitlement radiating from this image but we don't have time to unpack all of that

Looks the same as practically every other kid his age but still thinks he's the best looking one

5/10 is cute until he opens his mouth

Undercover Ken Doll (1963-66)

His appearance has not changed since the beginning of the Beatles

Looks identical to his Beatles cartoon counterpart and no I'm not wrong

This man is one minor inconvenience away from throwing a full-blown tantrum

6/10 though I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him the least bit adorable

Teen Caught With Fake ID (1967)

Never have I seen a real mustache look so fake in my entire life

When people who work at convenience stores tell stories of underage people who come in trying to buy alcohol, this is the people that come in

He's 25 and he looks 15 I hate it here

3/10 maybe next time don't let your LSD trip determine your facial hair pattern

Understandably Conceited (1968)

Very similar to Undercover Ken Doll but there is something different here. Something...better

Beautiful and he knows it

His eyelashes are longer than mine what the hell am I doing wrong

9/10 he's a 9 but he gatekeeps his skincare routine

McBeardy (1969-70)

Jesus Christ do I even need to say anything

The only other exception to my "I hate beards" rule

The mustache cannot stand on its own it must be accompanied by the beard

1000/10 I want him to fuck me just so I could forget about my problems for a while

No (1971)

How did we go from McBeardy to t h i s

You really thought that having beard hair longer than the hair on your head was a good idea? I think the fuck not, James.

Every time I think about Paul's style evolution I desperately try to delete this one from my memory

0/10 I actively despise this

Hot Dad at a Pool Party (1972)

Well at least the beard is gone

The title is exactly what I mean. I have no other way of describing this look

His hair is a little shorter than I feel is the ideal length for him but it's not bad

7.5/10 it's enough to make me have a crush on him, but it would be nothing more than that

Baby's First Mullet (1973)

Looks cute but also concerningly sexy

I hate that I like this but then again rockstar mullets are different than regular mullets so I have nothing to be embarrassed about

His eyes are so big how does he do that

9.5/10 if I saw him at a club I would definitely wanna sleep with him

The Eighth Circle of Hell (1974)

And we're back here again I am in AGONY

The trainwreck of a mustache ON TOP OF THE MULLET? I am at my fucking limit.

This is the face of a man who has done his fair share of cocaine

12598347/10 I had it at a 2.5/10 at first and the only reason I changed it is because there is some sick twisted part of me that's attracted to this and maybe that's why I'm so angry about it. I thought about my rating overnight and ended up having a dream that we fucked and he looked like this and it was so hot. My affinity for skrunkly men is one that both comforts and deeply disturbs me.

Mullet Yoyo (1975-78)

No matter how long or short the mullet got it never left

At least the mustache is gone I can't take having to face my most embarrassing turn-ons anymore

To be honest he somehow looks more unhinged with just the mullet

7.5/10 my brain doesn't like it as much without the facial hair oh my god Cherry what the FUCK is wrong with you

Intermission (1979-80)

It's not that I don't like this. I just really have nothing much to say about it

Sort of a middle ground in between the chaotic energy from the 70s and the dilf energy of the 80s

He looks handsome I'll give him that

7/10 I certainly have nothing to complain about

Give My Regards to Dilf Street (1981-85)

Oh shit here we go

His hair got longer and none of us knew how to act

When I say I watch the Broad Street movie for the plot, this is the plot

3000/10 this man is a frequent visitor of my sexual fantasies

Warden at Horny Jail (1986)

I'm- 🥴

Nobody talk to me

This is the epitome of dilf energy it's not even a competition

36459871/10 please just fuck me already

Questionable Choices (1987-88)

He cut his hair I am in shambles

Paul why

He doesn't look bad but obviously the long hair is way better

5/10 I don't hate it but my heart belongs to another

The Swan is Gliding (1989-97)

The dilf haircut is back thank god

Paul you have redeemed yourself

He looks unbelievably sexy but for some reason it's missing something that he had in '86 and I don't know what it is- oH MY GOD HE DYED HIS HAIR THAT'S WHAT IT IS

1000000/10 it's still one of my faves but COME ON PAUL YOU'RE A DILF FOR GOD'S SAKE YOU NEED TO EMBRACE YOUR GRAY HAIR YOU'RE A SILVER FOX BABE PLEASE

Time Traveler (1998-2003)

He started looking real old real quick

But of course I will not be harsh with this era because I know it was a super tough one for him

I know all too well that when you're super stressed out, your appearance is the furthest thing from your mind

5/10 honestly he just looks like a typical guy in his sixties so there's nothing to bash anyway 😊❤

Lead Role in a CBS Crime Drama (2004-10)

This pic just gives me NCIS/Criminal Minds cast photo vibes idk

Again I mean this in the best way possible but he looks like just some guy and there's nothing wrong with that

A suit will always be sexy to me though

8/10 I have a certain appreciation for this one

Main Character Energy (2011-16)

This era of Paul was the moment

His hair is longer again and yes I do think he looks very sexy

A majority of the music he released in this era is just *chef's kiss*

10/10 this photo is from the promo for the NEW album which fucking slaps btw it's honestly one of my favorite albums from his solo career

Hey Grandude (2017-19)

I'm sorry I just had to name it that I think him using it for a children's book title is too cute

The gray hair is coming back and I very much do think it suits him

This is not so much "just some guy" but more like "a guy who aged beautifully"

9/10 if you told me he was approaching 80 years old I would not believe you

Eternal Rockstar (2020-Present Day)

Oh my god shUT UP

I have to say dilf. Do I have to say dilf? I feel like I have to say dilf

Don't dye your hair anymore babe you don't need it

10000/10 I had to choose this photo it taunts me too much 🥵