#and might be difficult to shut up if you get me going on the topic

[flyingpurplepeopleprogrammer]

You know, I get some questions often enough that I think I'll just start posting the answers.

Let's start with a classic: "How did you get into hypnosis?"

The short answer? I like brains! That and lots and lots of reading.

The long answer? Well...

It was a long time ago. I can't recall exactly what all happened in what order: there was bad television, of course: cartoon hypnosis and movie mind control. X-2? Telepathy. Matrix 2? Who remembers the scene with the cake? I could list bits of media that are fun with kink glasses for awhile, but you've probably already heard of most of them anyway.

I was curious outside of that, though. There were also encyclopedia artcles about the mind and a grab-bag of probably-mostly-nonsense you could find in books and on the internet about meditation, altered states of consciousness, psychoactives, brainwashing, cults, ritualistic spirituality, BDSM, MKUltra conspiracy theories... whatever. If you can name it, I probably read about it. It's alarmingly easy (or, at least, it was for me) to find your way back to mind control from philosophy, religion, any kind of "why?" question you might go about exploring while you're young and don't know anything.

This was back in pre-video days of the internet and - honestly - I think it was mostly easier to find sources on obscure stuff in the days before youtube and AI generated clutter. I can't really say how much of what I read stuck, but I definitely spent some of my days sat around trying to figure out meditation or getting my awareness out of my head experimentally. It's kind of wild to think back on that, honestly. I can still remember a nice out-of-body experience against a lone oak trea out in a pasture. The dirt around it was always fine and powdery because the horses would clomp and roll by it, and it made the loveliest spot to lay and daydream in a summer heat.

But I digress -

I also worked my way through the EMCSA: first by looking for keywords and themes I liked, then alphabetically - compiling reading lists based on whether or not a given sypnosis caught my eye. Ya boy has read a lot of smut. Hypnosmut - like all art - is mostly rubbish, but you'll find some writers that give wonderfully educational descriptions of hypnosis. That and a few scraps from outdated, untrustworthy papers by Names of hypnosis past and a couple of ill-advised, late-teenaged forays into power exchange and I ended up playing with brainwashing, imagery, and... yeah. I had the tools and opportunity to experiment with some kind of mental play that was hypnokink or hypnokink-adjacent. I can safely say I've been doing this shit since before I was old enough to vote.

Now, nobody should be reading this who's under 18, but just in case you are:

- I cannot stress this enough: do not be like me. I got into a lot of trouble that wasn't good for me and I would've been better off in a lot of ways if this hadn't been the route I'd taken.

- You shouldn't be reading this. This blog is 18+ for a reason. Feck off.

Eventually, like so many of us, I found my way to some shady corners of the internet and made an ass out of myself in ways that - while new and exciting to me-from-the-past - are fairly standard for newbie hypnokinksters. (I'm still out there, btw: Out on the internet, Being an asshat. I don't use this name, though. This Flying Purple People Programmer business is my first foray into not using my usual name.)

When I started out in these spaces I set out to get hypnotised by a bunch of different people because - well - what better way to learn different approaches then to see them firsthand? This taught me a lot about different techniques and - perhaps more critically - what it was like to be hypnotised by a shitty hypnotist. I don't recommend that second bit, but it probably did a good job of encouraging me not to be a dick. I've run into a lot of community folks over the years, but not in a very loud way. That's not uncommon in the hypnocommunuty, by the way: if you've been around for any length of time, a lot of people are floating around who will know who you are and remember you from this event or that website. It's a small world.

Looking back on it as if I had a thesis when I started writing, I think that the best thing I picked up in my adventure was the idea that we don't know what we're doing, really, and that our ways of experiencing things are both wildly diverse and not quite knowable. Hypnosis is a big fuzzy mess in a range of human experiences and hypnokink might not actually have all that much to do with hypnosis. We can be meditating or conditioned or daydreaming or a million other things in the course of our play and often times "hypnosis" is just an aesthetic we dress it up in. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

So. There's me rambling about me. Hopefully that saves me going on for a thousand words next time somebody asks me that question hoping for a gentle conversation starter.

[occamstfs]

Roommates’ Trivial Tiff

Pretty standard nerdy asshole to himbo TF, who doesn't love some cosmic justice ! -Occam

“You just don’t understand what it’s like dude. You have no idea how hard all this stuff is for me.” Brock was struggling to get through to his roommate, someone he has time and time again been more than cordial with. In response Harvey scoffs and rolls his eyes refusing to engage and instead doubling down, “I’m sure it’s real difficult with all your paid tutors and your-” 

“You’re not even listening bro! You like to think you’re so elevated, like you have all the answers but you don’t even try to understand what anyone else is going through.” Harvey grimaces and briefly tosses about whether or not this is true but stubbornly neglects to internalize the criticism, “Uhh, I do too?” Brock bites his tongue to prevent just blowing up at his roommate and instead he tries a different angle, “Oh yeah? If that’s the case then, bet you know a lot about me huh? Since we’ve been roommates for a year now,” pausing as he narrows his eyes briefly at Harvey, “and ostensibly we’re friends right?”

Harvey struggles not to display his ever present irritation as he retorts, “Of course we are, uh, dude.” Brock does a better job hiding his intentions as he issues a challenge, “so if we were to say, quiz each other you think you’d come up on top lil dude?” With this gauntlet laid there is little recourse in Harvey’s mind but to accept it, there are few times he enjoys showing off so much as in a trivia contest. So what he might have a less than pristine record of respecting oafs like his roommate, he is certainly not to lose in any battle of the wits regardless of topic or stipulations there may be.

Brock puts out his hand and states the stakes, “You can of course bow out whenever, but uh, how about every question the winner takes something from the loser?” Harvey was resolved to win before hearing the terms and is now spitefully even more eager now as he eyes Brock’s side of the room looking for whatever his prize is sure to be.

Without any further clarification Brock promptly launches into the game, “I guess we’ll start real easy yeah? Only fair.” Harvey feels resentment start to brew as he feels he’s being talked down to as Brock goes on, “For starters then, What’s my major?” Harvey audibly gulps and feels his face blanche as he scrambles to find such an incredibly simple answer. This is such an obvious and pressing piece of information it would be impossible not to have it on deck.

Seeing the hesitation Brock laughs incredulously, “God dude are you kidding? How could you not know this, I-” He shifts his jaw waiting for the second shoe to drop as it is suddenly clear he is about to clean house, this asshole is going to learn respect by hook or by crook. Harvey’s eyes that were just hungrily looking through Brock’s possessions now retread their path, searching for the answer, his eyes linger on some sports bandages and protein powder and he kicks himself for forgetting. “Well duh dude, you’re doing a sports medicine or a trainer degree or whatever. Sorry that I forgot what the proper name is, it’s not exactly high in the list of things I need to know.”

Brock stares down at the clueless nerd before him and slowly shakes his head. “Not even close Harv. It’s-” Before he can finish though Harvey stands and shouts, “Don’t fucking call me that! I bet you don’t know mine either!” This leaves Brock aghast, he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “Of course I fucking do! You never shut up about it! I’m lucky if my headphones can block out you whining about homework while also constantly talking yourself up! It’s so, fucking, annoying!”

Hurt by this despite his typical apathy to others Harvey starts up once more, “Okay but you didn’t say-” “Computer Engineering.” Harvey blushes in shame, not over his disrespect but of getting the question wrong. Suddenly there’s a hum in the room and the shadows in the corner grow darker and Brock looks around, “Well I suppose that question really tees me up on what to take huh? I’ll take your major.”

“Wha?” caught on the other foot Harvey blinks and sees that his textbooks and assignments are suddenly piled on Brock’s desk. He feels anxiety rise in his chest unsure of what has happened though confident this must be a prank or something. “No no no that can’t be right? What is happening?” He then returns to look at his roommate once more, a scowl plastered on his face as Brock who, despite his impressive stature always aims to present as kind and gentle, cannot help but smirk as he feels he has gotten one over on this jerk.

He stretches, exposing his midriff and flexing  his arms behind his head, perhaps to try and allure or intimidate Harvey, he’s not sure, but Harvey is not going to just take this sitting down.Though at the present, he is too uncomfortable to even vocalize his discomfort as he stands there trying not to shake. Instead Brock begins once more, “Urgh kinda see what all that complaining was about now Harv, kinda got a lot on my plate now hah!”

Harvey stares daggers at his roommate, “Brock I don’t know what kind of nonsense is going through your dumbass ox brain. But it’s not funny, I’m sure you’re used to bullying little g-”

“Excuse me? I’m a bully!? I know you’re not saying that, I go out of my way to be kind, even to little chip on their shoulder assholes like you. I just,” Brock takes a deep breath and flexes his jaw before he continues. “It doesn’t matter actually. I trust you have a vested interest in trying again though right? Surely you want your major back?”

At the moment Harvey is caught between the idea that this is some kind of Christmas Carol-ass dream where he’s supposed to learn a lesson or once more that this is just a prank by Brock. Amenable as he’s always been, Harvey's convinced that behind this lunkhead is the vitriol of the typical jerk jock. In this impossible chance that this is reality though, he can’t just give up his major. He needs it to be an, uh? God what was, no what is his major anyway? 

Harvey looks around in shock as he suddenly can’t bring his current course schedule to his mind, but he was literally in class this morning right? He feels his coursework draining from his mind as fear and rage begin to rise in his frail body. Images of lecture halls and professors flash through his mind before they just as swiftly dissipate, somewhere within him deeper than memory he feels that he was studying something with numbers. Mathematics, physics, engineering, something he was good at. He is determined to get that back as he speaks up finally, “What is the next question.”

Brock smiles and toys around in his head, confident that he will end up on top. “How about you pick this one, give you a fighting chance.” Harvey purses his lips and struggles to produce a question that he knows the answer to that his roommate will not. Oh duh, he’ll just ask him a math question, easy! Certainly not the aim of the game but Harvey just needed to get his life back. “What’s a derivative.” 

“Kinda not in the spirit of the game dude but whatever. I took calc you know. It’s the rate of change in response to a variable. Now since you’re still being an ass how about I lob one back? How about you derivative 𝑓(𝑥)= 2cos⁡(𝑥)−6sec⁡(𝑥)+3?” Harvey is flat stunned, this is some entry level shit but he cannot for the life of him bring the information to mind. He’s just as sharp as he always has been but anything beyond rudimentary trig is continuing to trickle out of his mind. He meekly chuckles out, “uh easy, it’s f(x) equals, uh tan-”

There’s a blaring in his head as both men are aware of his immediate slip up. Energy once more rises in the air as Brock looks down almost pitifully at his roommate this time. “Now I am sorry for this Harvey but, oof that course load! Like you so relish to say, I am just not that bright hm?” Harvey shakes his head as he realizes the horror about to occur. Brock looks a little uncomfortable as he continues, “After failing to pull your little gotcha, I think I’ll just go ahead and have your intelligence.” 

Both men are instantly struck with headaches the likes of which neither could endure under normal circumstances. As soon as the pain arrives though it is converted into a deep profane pleasure. Pins and needles fill Brock’s mind as it becomes heavy. Ideas and understanding fill his mind as a euphoric warmth flows through him. Harvey had enjoyed learning without truly lifting a finger, he had flourished and gained knowledge through no effort on his part but simple absorption. Brock is overcome with the ease at which he will now flow through life. Equally is he overcome by the ecstasy within his body as it only continues to heighten.

Opposite him Harvey clutches at his head as now not only do his learned experiences at university vanish, but all of his capabilities as a student and academic. Even the pleading within his mind slows down as he feels his ability to swiftly process information breaks down. Harvey turns from the man across from him as Brock’s hands feel up and down his musculature in rapturous delight, just in time to see whatever books and tomes he had collected as trophies begin to fade into the aether along with his memories of reading them. He looks down at his hands in confusion and horror, even with his unaddled mind at full steam he could not make sense of what has befallen him. He knows this is not right.

He is unable to find any answers, though as he searches his brain he begins to find a pleasant warmth in the vacuum where there once was knowledge. While his mind has been emptied, the bulge in his crotch demands his attention, which shall likely be a constant issue now that his mind shall evermore be less than preoccupied. He feels his mouth start to fill with drool as he looks down at his cock as it almost feels larger than it should be. He almost laughs at the idea that from now on he may fully be thinking with his cock. He opens his mouth allowing drool to spill out which shocks him back to sense and he turns around to demand that Brock return this all to sense immediately.

Brock for his part is reclined in a chair just rubbing his cock over his shorts almost forgetting about what they had been doing not seconds earlier. He laughs as he sees the expression on Harvey’s face, “Woah dude sorry about that, got lost in my own mind for a second there! No wonder you had, or have rather, such an attitude problem. It all just came so easy to you didn’t it? I mean we could keep going if you want, what else do you have to lose yeah?” Harvey wipes the drool from his face and takes stock, he can still read, he is pretty confident he still passed high school, he remembers his life before whatever hell is currently happening as well as whatever this new reality is. He nods his head and pushes his erection down as it continues to rise upon seeing his roommate’s cocky repose. He answers, “let’s keep going. Your question right?”

Harvey can’t help but trace Brock’s traps as he shrugs, “If you insist lil bro. What’s my middle name?” He knows this one for sure, he would bring it out to tease his roommate as needed. Brock slams his arm down in excitement and shouts, “fucking Laurel!” then he recalls this is only half the battle, Brock must also get his wrong, “what’s mine?” Brock smirks once more and laughs as he stretches to scratch his back, his roommate hungrily staring, “you don’t have one dude”

The energy rushing between the two men is drastically different this time. Unlike the pleasurable prickles of knowledge or the soothing burn of loss there is a direct, deeper connection between the two. Brock’s grin grows wider as understands, “Oh I getcha, question’s a tie so we share the spoils Harv. Only fair that since you’ve the mind of a what, meathead? May as well have the body of one.”

Harvey watches as his roommate takes off his shirt, he feels a warmth in his chest as he stares directly at Brock’s pecs. His breath catches as he watches his roommate flex them and he feels a nervous energy begin to surge within his own. He’s never had pecs before but he feels his chest pushing, growing, into his shirt. He sees his nipples harden and grow too large to ever hide as his chest expands. His swallows to stop from drooling once more as he sees Brock pose and flex his massive biceps, forcing a burning delight down the whole of Harvey’s arms. He matches the pose of the powerful man he has spoken nothing but ill of and flexes, sweat immediately staining through his shirt as the energy and strain heats his body beyond reason.

At the same time both men drop into a crunch, there is a loud tear as the pants of both men tear as they reach the lowest point in the crunch as Harvey’s ass bursts larger and his thighs swell with strength well enough to carry his increasingly top heavy torso. Not only is Harvey to gain the muscle of a tight jock, but the masculinity expected. The cock he has been til now proud enough of pulses with his heartbeat, with each pump it gorges larger, veins thick as the ones surging down his biceps force his cock thicker and further down his strained shorts. He tears at his pants to free his bulge as his balls bloat to the size of eggs, they pull tight ass they’re exposed to the air and all the soreness, strain, and pain of his still growing body becomes agonizing delight.

Harvey’s eyes water as he struggles to even stay cogent with the pleasure and power coursing through him. He smells his new musk breaking through his senses. Through the burning bedlam across his body he feels a soothing burn as hair begins to sprout and thicken where every man should make clear his masculinity. His pubes thicken and curl beyond his waistline and his pits grow wild and begin to spread to make it clear they, nor his musk, can ever be contained.

He lies, sits, writhes, flexes, exists in nothing but pleasure for some time, no longer concerned for his lost intelligence, beyond the care of his education. His hands, larger and painted with still thickening hair, press tight against his body as he feels the new contours of his body. Each new valley and mountain is a testament to the ecstasy he shall now prioritize above all. Until his roommate’s voice breaks through the haze, “Fuck bro you’re really feeling yourself huh?” Harvey’s eyes open to see Brock’s arrogant sneer has only grown worse as he has contendly watch Harvey lavish his new corpus.

Harvey meets it with a scowl and Brock tilts his head, “Want to do one last question then, bro?” His smile grows tight as he tries not to laugh as the appellation of bro has become the paramount definition of this once genius. Harvey just nods his head, still understandably disoriented as he lies in a pool of his own sweat and pre that remains dripping directly onto the floor. Brock motions for him to ask whatever the presumably final question is but is met with a grunt and a wave of the hand. Brock grimaces slightly, “if you insist bud,” he grimaces slightly as he looks down at the man. Asshole he may have be, may still be even, surely there’s something Brock could do to fix even that. He leans to whisper the question in Harvey’s ear, “what color are my eyes.” 

Between grunts, Harvey strains to look at his roommate only to find them obviously closed. His body contorts with pain and pleasure as he feels the throes of defeat and one final lose begin to seize him. He groans out through clenched teeth as his jaw widens and his brows thicken as changes already begin to work upon his mind, “don’t… know…” Brock nods and sits next to his roommate laying Harvey’s head on his lap. At the point it would be a kindness for the man to forget his life before, and that is exactly what he is to do. 

Brock removes the memories and identity of the sour nerd that made life perpetually unpleasant not only for him, but anyone unlucky enough to grace his presence. His breathing speeds up as his body heat rises beyond imagination, sweat turning to steam in the cold dorm room as he shakes his head and clenches his fists. He writhes only briefly, each flex of his body a final protestation of Harvey as Brock erases even his name from his head. 

After a minute of this his body goes still before he opens his eyes blearily and groans. Still lying in Brock’s lap he stretches his arms, turning to smell his impossibly rank pits before turning it into a flex as he must do anytime he raises them. Brock watches this with trepidation, unsure of who exactly his roommate is to be now before suddenly a name surges into his mind, Bull. Perfect fodder for the jerk he once was and an apt name for the behemoth lying on his lap. Testing the waters Brock pats his chest to wake him up, “Morning Bull.”

He yawns and scratches at the same stubbled face he has always known and he sits up, “urgh got a massive headache bro, must have gone pretty hard to have a hangover this bad huhuh! Wanna go grab brekkie and hit up the gym?” Brock stifles a smirk and helps his roommate up to standing, slightly surprised to see him standing taller than himself before responding, “You got it big guy, how about you get some clothes on first though right?” Bull guffaws, looking down at his hairy sweat-drenched body as he throws an arm around his roommate, cock bobbing around in the open air, still chubbed up. “What would I do without you bro huhuh!” 

Brock looks to see all of Bull’s tops have changed to stringers and tanks. Where Harvey had nothing but pants Bull has piles of unwashed athletic shorts, one of which he promptly throws on, going commando. Seeing Brock watch him, Bull grabs at his crotch and juts at the door, “Come on bro! Faster we get a pump in faster we can get back here and have some fun dude.” 

With that Bull again throws his arm around Brock, once more smelling his b.o. as he almost deliberately spreads it on his roommate’s neck, like an animal marking its territory. The two then off to start their day, in Bull’s mind as they always have. Brock feels his crotch grow weightier as the amble down the hall, unsure if he’s made a horrible mistake in all this. Who is he to say what is too far in acts of cosmic retribution. Brock is certain at the end of the day he and Bull are at least to have quite a bit of fun.

[queers-gambit]

Damage Done

prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.4k+

note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?

warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.

it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.

"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.

"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.

"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"

"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"

"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.

"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"

"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.

"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"

"What's that matter - "

"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "

"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.

"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."

"So?"

"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"

"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.

"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "

"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.

"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."

"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.

"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "

"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.

"Neither would Bucky."

The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.

You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.

Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"

"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.

"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.

"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.

"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."

"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.

He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.

You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.

There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...

"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"

He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.

"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"

"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.

"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"

"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."

Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"

"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."

"An equal partnership, would you say?"

"Yes."

"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.

"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."

You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"

"She keeps me safe."

Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.

"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.

"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"

"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.

"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."

"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"

"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."

"The fuck does that - "

But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"

"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.

"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"

The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.

"Longing."

"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.

"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.

"Rusted."

"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.

"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"

"Seventeen."

"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.

"Daybreak!"

"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"

He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.

"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.

"Nine!"

"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.

"Benign!"

"You stupid fucking little man!"

Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"

"DON'T!"

"Freight car!"

You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.

"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.

What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.

In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"

And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."

Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."

You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.

It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.

Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.

"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.

"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"

"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.

When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"

"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.

"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.

"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"

He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."

"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"

"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.

"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."

"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.

"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.

"I know - "

"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."

"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.

"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "

You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.

"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.

"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."

Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.

He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.

You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.

Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"

"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.

You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"

"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.

"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.

Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.

"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"

"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.

"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"

"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."

"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."

"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."

"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."

"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."

"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.

You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.

"No..."

"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.

"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"

"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."

"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Buck."

"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"

"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."

"She didn't want to come here?"

Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."

Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."

"Gotta agree with you there."

"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."

You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.

"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"

"I'm okay."

"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"

"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."

"I still hurt you, I still did it."

"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."

"I can smell the fear on you."

"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."

"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."

"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."

He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"

"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"

"What's that, doll?"

"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."

His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."

"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."

"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."

"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."

"You and I, both..."

You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."

"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."

You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."

"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."

"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."

"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"

"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."

His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.

"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."

"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."

Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."

"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"

"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."

"You might regret that."

"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."

"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."

"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."

"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."

"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.

"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."

"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."

Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.

"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.

"I do."

"Is it still unregistered?"

"You know it is. Who're we calling?"

"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."

"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"

"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."

When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.

"Always. Got my six?"

"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."

"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."

"Hmm? For what, handsome?"

"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."

You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."

"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."

"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."

He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt4

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: took me a while to update but here it is! Let me know your thoughts about this

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel

2010, Bahrain International Circuit

Seb: Hey, did you already leave? Can we talk? Seb: Happy holidays Y/N, I hope you are spending time with the family Seb: Its a new year, I hope you get a better year. Seb: Aren't you going to pre-season testing? Seb: Hope to see you in Bahrain

Y/N sighed as she read the messages over and over again. It's quite an asshole move to leave Sebastian on read but Y/N couldn't bring herself to reply to the messages because she was hurt by their last conversation. The heavy feeling is even more aggravated because all she ever wanted was to hear a simple sorry from Sebastian.

Unfortunately, that's the only message that Sebastian hasn't sent.

"Are you still not talking with Sebastian?"Mark enters the room.

Mark knew that Sebastian and Y/N had a fallout after Abu Dhabi. At first, he was a bit clueless about what's happening but with Y/N constantly shutting herself in her room and Mark getting a glimpse of the one-sided conversation-it was difficult to ignore it.

The whole thing became even more hard to ignore when Sebastian resulted to texting Mark over the winter break to check on Y/N. Mark tried to ask Sebastian about what happened but Sebastian said that he just said some things that can make a friend feel hurt.

Bullshit, that's what Mark said in his mind. He knew that her sister won't be moping and act like this if its something as simple as that.

"I don't wanna talk about him" she grumbled.

"You know that you have to talk to him eventually"Mark ever the rational "He is our co-worker and we have to be professional in work."

It's something that Y/N knows. She knows that she will not place her professionalism in jeopardy but as much as she could she would delay talking to Sebastian. Her fear is that if she ends up forgiving Sebastian, without him asking for it, then this situation might repeat again.

"I won't let work interfere with Seb"Y/N assured.

There was a silence between the two Webbers. It was a comfortable silence where they seem to be using their siblings communication signals to determine if they should push the topic or not.

"He got pole position today, it might give Red Bull a fight for championship don't you think" Mark offered "Maybe you can talk to him like congratulate him for a conversation starter"

"I'm well-aware Mark, I have been watching the qualifying"

She was actually debating whether she would say a simple congrats knowing how proud Sebastian is with his pole. If this was last year, she would have been there at the parc femme. However, things aren't easy like that.

"You can talk to me about anything okay?" Mark reminded. Maybe at the back of Mark's head, he feels like there are more to this than just a petty friendship fight. But he didn't want to push her sister to being annoyed with his constant questions.

"I promise I will when the time is right."

"You know maybe if Sebastian loses the race then maybe you should see it as a sign to talk to him"Mark joked a bit to lighten the mood

"That's mean"Y/N playfully punched her brother "That's never going to happen he is on pole"

"Why not if he does not get a podium finish then you will talk to him"

"Are you seriously jinxing your team Mark?"Y/N laughed

"Okay, that's a deal"

"I tell you that its never gonna happen"Y/N assured.

And its like the universe played a cruel joke on Y/N, Sebastian did not have a podium finish. He still finished 4th but knowing Sebastian, the German driver is obviously frustrated.

Mark did not finish well but he has this knowing smirk on his face as he nudged his sister's ribs. Y/N resisted the urge to slap him at the back of his head since they were in front of a lot of Red Bull sponsors.

"Go on and talk to him" Mark whispered"I promise to behave here"

Y/N took a detour to the catering and grabbed an orange. She immediately went to Sebastian's driver room where she saw Britta exiting.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" she quizzed the younger Webber "I thought you and Seb weren't in speaking terms"

"Well I think with what happened today then I have to check up on him"Y/N replies.

Britta could just hug Y/N because she knows that Sebastian was really in a terrible mood after losing out the podium. It would mean a lot for Y/N to speak to Sebastian before Britta could bring him back for media duties.

"I'll stall the media for a bit, I'm giving you 10 minutes okay?" BrItta informed

"Thanks B"

Y/N felt nervous whether how to start a conversation with Sebastian. She fiddles with the orange in her hand as she walked in the room to seek the German driver.

"Seb?"

Sitting in the corner of the room, Sebastian looked up. His eyes were red, obviously from crying, and his hair was in complete disarray.

"Y/N?" Sebastian was confused "You're here?"

"I figure you need an orange"

In essence, Y/N didn't want to brush things off like that. She didn't want to appear out of the blue and be friends with Sebastian again. But the moment that Sebastian hugged her, it all melted away. She thought of nothing else as she missed this.

Sebastian too was thinking of the same thing. He wanted to apologize in person and he wanted to do it right now. However, he didn't want to ruin the moment. He just got her back.

Somehow its both of their fault that they brush off things like that.

2010, Albert Park

Sebastian, Mark, and Y/N arrived in Australia a couple of days before the race so as tradition goes Sebastian was once again a guest to Webber's family dinners. Sebastian feels at home with the family and even helped with the dinner preparations.

"Where's Y/N" Mr. Webber asked

"Y/N went to the market to buy some lemons that mum needs" Mark informed "She should have been here an hour ago"

"Should I give her a call?" Sebastian asked

Like a perfect cue, the door opens revealing Y/N.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I got a little bit of a car problem and its a good thing that I got someone to help me. "Y/N greeted "I hope you don't mind setting up another plate for dinner"

Of course, no one minded. The table was big enough to add guests. Sebastian was bringing the plates to the dining room when he was surprised to see Jenson Button standing there.

"What are you doing here" Sebastian was quick to ask

"Jenson is the one that helped me fix my car, thank God for drivers right?" Y/N replies

This annoyed Sebastian greatly but he knows that he cannot let his emotions get the best of him. He remembered how he acted the last time in Abu Dhabi and he surely doesn't want a repeat of that. It's just so annoying that Jenson Button is always at the scene of the crime when it comes to Y/N.

"Jenson?" Mark was also confused "You are in Australia early"

"Got an early flight, I was touring around and then I saw Y/N" Jenson smiles.

Knowing the previous history of Y/N and Jenson, Mark was also very skeptical. The seating arrangement ended up with Y/N between Mark and Sebastian while Jenson is sitting across Sebastian.

Dinner went on great, the dishes were great, but Sebastian could not shake this horrible feeling in his stomach. He hated how Jenson was mingling well and joking around with the whole family. Jenson had a way with Mrs. Webber, complimenting her food and the homey space decorations.

Still, Sebastian tried to push the green monster of envy away.

"Jenson, didn't you date my daughter Y/N before?" Mr. Webber remembered

"DAD"Y/N and Mark immediately hissed

"What, I'm just curious that's all" the eldest Webber defended

Jenson had a boyish smirk gracing his face and Sebastian wanted to punch that smirk on his face. He knew that if he didn't punch Jenson then Mark would.

"Well we went on a date for one time but that's it were good friends" Jenson explained

"But why Y/N, Jenson seems like a good lad plus he is a world champion" Mrs Webber butted in.

She seems to have grown fond of the British driver in such a short span of time. Her fondness is a stark contrast to the irritation that Sebastian has been feeling.

"Me and Jense are cool as friends, right?" Y/N cleared out

"Well if you wanna go on a date again, I wouldn't mind"Jensen jokingly stated.

Jealousy is a disease that Sebastian Vettel is inflicted with. Maybe its because Jenson already has two things that he really wanted which is a championship and a date with the girl he really liked. But whatever Sebastian was feeling, he kept it at bay for the sake of peace.

Anyways, he can run over Jenson on track.

2010, Sepang International Circuit

Y/N has to say that this is a very difficult start of the season for Red Bull. Mark and Sebastian went on winning poles yet they haven't won during the actual races. To say that she was ecstatic to see the Red Bull P1-P2 for today's race is not enough to describe how she is feeling.

Looking up at the podium and seeing the two drivers smiling at each other, Y/N took that opportunity to snap a photo of them. She prayed for more weekends like this as both drivers deserve this kind of victories.

Once the celebration ended, she went back to the motorhome to get her things and to meet up with the two drivers. However, she saw a group of Red Bull crew huddled up in a corner.

It was not her business to eavesdrop but hearing her brother's name being mentioned, she stayed hidden to hear what they have to say.

"Mark is an unfortunate case, he could have won today" one of them voiced out "He was at fault for losing his pole advantage a while ago"

"True and Vettel is obviously a better driver, look at him creating history and he just started last year"another mechanic agreed.

"I heard from Helmut that Vettel will be there championship bet"

"What happens to Mark then?"

"He will settle being a second driver and defending Sebastian obviously"

"Do you think Mark would agree?"

"If I were Mark, I would look for another team. There is no chance for a championship here if my teammate is obviously better than me"

All the highs that she has been feeling a while ago has faded into nothingness. Y/N felt herself conflicted with the situation ahead. If what they are saying is true then Y/N would be the one that will be in the middle of that battlefield.

This is Mark's dream for so long to win a championship. He have done his best to improve himself, she has seen the sleepless nights he had and how hard he tries to get a podium win every single race.

On the other hand, Y/N has also seen Sebastian's tears whenever he failed to finish or deliver. She knows that Sebastian lives and breathe racing for as long as he can remember. He wanted a championship badly as well.

It is just unfair that one of them has to compromise for the team. There shouldn't be a first driver or second driver but Y/N understands that every team had this. She felt miserable as she remembered hearing what happened to Rubens when he was the second driver to Michael Schumacher. She didn't want anyone to feel that way, ever.

"Y/N! Hello earth to Y/N"

In her deep thoughts, she haven't noticed that Mark and Sebastian was in front of her. Both were still in their race gear and the champagne smell wafts through the air.

"Oh, I didn't see you there Mark and Seb" Y/N emphasized loudly on their last name so that those gossip crew would be aware that the two are around.

"You're acting weird, we have been calling you for a long time already." Mark confusedly stated.

"Never mind about that, I just got a lot of things going on" Y/N assured

"Hey Nico invited us for dinner, let's celebrate?" Sebastian asked

"Sure, sure"

The two Red Bull drivers are laughing and joking around as they walked around with Y/N. Y/N tried to smile and join them but there was something that has been bugging her head.

In the end, she will put that conversation she heard of in the back of her head. She prays that it never happens because if she will be forced to choose sides, she didn't want to do that.

2010, Monte Carlo Circuit

Sebastian remembered how last year, Y/N has been a bit sick during Monaco so she was unable to do a yacht trip. Mark kept on sending her photos. It was meant to be a good gesture and to let her know that he misses her but it only made Y/N a lot more upset. She ended up texting Sebastian and whining about how that stupid stomach bug made her miss out this golden opportunity.

Yacht trips and the lavish life of Monaco is certainly not Sebastian's style. This is why it is common that he would be the last person to go to Monaco and the first one to leave. So just imagine everyone's surprise when he was in Monaco 3 days early for race week and he was going around looking for yacht trips.

It comes even more of a surprise when Y/N Webber has also been spotted in Monaco quite early for the race. No Mark Webber in sight though which raises everyone's eyebrows.

"So care to explain to me what are we doing?" Y/N asked.

She was dying of curiosity ever since Sebastian asked her to come early to Monaco. It was rare that Sebastian was so secretive because he will normally blabber everything to her.

"I'm not telling you until we get there" comes Sebastian's teasing comment.

"Oh c'mon I flew all over the world to see you"

"It's worth it, I promise"

Sebastian drove around Monaco and finally reaching the docks. He can feel that Y/N has the gears in her head already turning. There was an excited look on her face when she realized what they are about to do.

"Sebastian Vettel, tell me you did not!"Y/N tried to control her excitement "Are we really going on a yacht trip?"

"Well its your birthday week so I figure you might need a tour around Monaco on a yacht"Sebastian's nonchalant answer caused Y/N to scream.

It was a dream come true for Y/N. She had been dreaming of going around Monaco on a yacht for so long but her duties as Mark's assistants coupled by several unfortunate events prevented her from doing that dream.

Sebastian led her to the yacht and the two set off for an entire day of the yacht experience. Y/N wouldn't know but Sebastian specifically learned how to yacht for this purpose and this purpose only. He also called Mrs. Webber to ask for Y/N's favorite dishes so he has them prepared for lunch and dinner.

The whole day was spent floating around Monaco. They took a swim at one point and now they are lounging at the front while waiting for the sun to set.

"This is really a lot of effort Seb, thank you" Y/N began "I really appreciate this whole day"

If only Sebastian could tell her that he should be the one thanking her. Seeing her happy makes him extremely happy.

"It's nothing much" that's how Sebastian managed to answer

Y/N rolls her eyes, she sees right through that lie. Maybe for Sebastian this is nothing much but for her who doesn't earn as much as an F1 driver then this is really a lot.

"Oh before I forget, I still have one gift left" Sebastian said "Here you go"

It was a small black box with a gold ribbon. There was a scrawl on it in Sebastian's handwriting saying happy birthday Y/N. It made the girl raise her eyebrows.

"Seb I can't accept this, this seems really pricey"

Y/N got that right. Sebastian spent a long time looking for this gift since he customized it and it took a while for it to be created. But of course, Sebastian won't admit to that.

"Just take it" Seb pushed the gift back to her.

"I'm scared to open it" she whines

"Okay what if you don't open it and then I'll just hand it to you" Sebastian suggested "That way then you can't give it back"

"Got it, should I close my eyes to prepare myself"

"Go ahead"

Its so cliche for the two of them as it looks like it was taken from a movie scene. Sebastian unwrapped the gift and took the necklace out of the velvet pouch. It shimmers against the setting sun as he placed the necklace gently on her hand.

"You can open your eyes now" Sebastian said

Y/N lets out a soft gasp upon opening her eyes. It was a silver chained blue diamond necklace. There was some eerie similarities with the heart of the ocean necklace from titanic but this one is like the less flashier version. Sebastian have heard multiple stories back in the Webber household how Y/N absolutely loved Titanic as a little kid and Sebastian couldn't think of anything more iconic as gifting her a very own version of the heart of the ocean.

"Seb, you're making me cry. This is too beautiful" Y/N muttered in awe.

"I always see you fiddling with your necklace when you are nervous especially when someone crashed or its a wet race" Sebastian explained "I hope this can help assure you that everything will be alright"

Y/N felt speechless and she could feel the utter care that was placed in this gift. So what she does next is remove the necklace hanging on her neck.

"What's this?" it was now his turn to be puzzled.

"Well I can't wear this necklace and that at the same time" Y/N reasoned "So I'm giving you my necklace. Its my star sign, taurus which is represented by a bull so red bull"

Sebastian looked at the necklace in his hand. He felt very grateful and it seems like a charm for him to carry to his races.

"Thank you"

There was so much more that Sebastian wanted to say but he couldn't ruin this moment. He was happy to make her happy even if its just a friend.

Soon, he tells himself.

If he wins in Monaco then he would gather all his courage to ask her out. He will give everything for this race this weekend so he can finally stop this dilly-dallying. He gives out a silent wish to the universe that they make his wish come true.

News flash, Sebastian didn't win the Monaco GP 2010.

[f4irys4n]

this isn't us pt1

park jisung x afab!reader

tags gender neutral terms. cliche best friends to lovers trope. reader and jisung are both at uni. jisung is an art student. jisung pining over another person. jealous reader. jisung being a bit of a dick. arguments upon arguments. a lot of angst. mark looking out for you. jealous jisung. lots of swearing. jisung being very indenial. mutual stuborness. slight mentions of blood. violence and fights. kissing. a lot of crying. there will be a pt2 with smut.

wc 3k

one month.

one whole fucking month since you last spoke to jisung.

you were as stubborn as each other, everyone around you both knew that, and everyone around you knew that no matter how much they pushed you to speak to one another; it wasn't happening. the stubbornness, however, was only making things worse. the longer you went without speaking, the more resentment built up.

it all started over one particular topic. well, person.. jung jieun.

it was her second year at our univeristy, and your friendship group; jisung and you included; had all gotten much closer ever since her first few weeks.

ever since jieun was thrown into the picture, it allowed jisung to worm his way in. and what came with this was jisung slowly drawing away from you, and being attached to jieun's hip.

maybe you were jealous, you didn't deny that, but it just hurt that your best friend of 3 years started leaving you on read for days at a time and was willing to drop you any time of the day just to meet her as if all the time you'd spent together didn't matter to him anymore.

you're not usually one for confrontation, you avoid arguments and any sort of tension like the plague, but the way he was acting caused something to boil inside you and it caused you to snap.

you and jisung had plans to go to the cafe right next to campus after your final lessons of the day, and that caused excitement to bubble in your stomach. that was until he cancelled, babbling on about how he was ill and couldn't muster the effort to even get out of bed but denied all your offers to come over and look after him; like you've always done these past few years; only then to see him not long after this conversation walking to this said cafe with nobody but jieun herself.

now that hurt. that hurt a lot.

it's not like you could even be mad at jieun. she was your friend, possibly even one of your closest, and had absolutely zero interest in jisung. promising you it was solely platonic after overhearing you talking to your best friend, lola, about how you might have a 'small' crush on jisung.

but jisung, on the other hand, you were beyond mad at.

it started off with you ignoring his already very few messages, not even bothering to open them days after they were sent, despite him so obviously seeing you on your phone in lessons and around the halls of uni. and after a week or so you, you just started avoiding him completely, too scared you'd end up saying something you didn't mean out of angry if you spoke to him.

that was until he cornered you one day whilst you were in your dorm. so apparently annoyed at how you were ghosting him for so long, completely oblivious to how they were a result of his own actions.

"what have i done?" jisung asks bluntly, standing in your doorway so it was difficult for you to budge past him to avoid having this conversation.

"you'll have to be more specific," you countered, trying to shut down any sort of argument as fast as possible.

"you're obviously ignoring me and i just want to know what i've done wrong."

you scoff slightly, unable to hold it in. this made jisung cock up his eyebrow in confusion, curious as to what that was for.

"as if you don't know... everyone else has noticed it, why haven't you?" you sigh, trying your best to move past his taller build and get inside your room.

"clearly not. or i wouldn't be asking," he snaps sarcastically, his jaw tensing a little.

"maybe that's the problem."

you shove past him, attempting to slam the door behind you but he was too quick, squeezing himself through the door before it could close fully.

"look.. i don't know what i've done but-" "you've been fucking ignoring me for weeks!" you yell, taking jisung by surprise, his eyes wide in shock. he can't recall you ever yelling, not once in the 3 years you'd been friends.

"plans upon plans cancelled, rescheduled and cancelled again," you continue, venom dripping from your tongue. "we're supposed to be best friends, best fucking friends, and it takes you 5 days to reply to a message from me yet you can spend every waking minute with jieun."

"so this is what it's about?" jisung snapped back, pocking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "fucking jieun?" "well.. i apologise for wanting to hang with a friend that isn't you for once."

"jisung! you're not getting it!" you yell, slamming your books down onto your desk in frustration.

"what am i not getting, y/n?" jisung yells back, hands balled up in anger. "that jieun's more fun that you? that she's easier to hang out with than you? that she's not as annoying as you? that she's basically better than you in general? because no! i get that, y/n! i completely get that." it left you speechless, hands shaking subtly as you try and hold in the sob you so desperately wanted to let out. you daren't even look at him.

jisung didn't even bother to look back at you before he stormed out, muttering something under his breath as he slammed the door behind him.

once you were certain he was gone, a loud sob left your mouth, tears immediately running down your face. your closest friend had just walked out on you, and you were more than certain that he wasn't even planning on coming back.

and that's what brings us to the present day.

one month without speaking to jisung.

you pretend to like it doesn't hurt, that it doesn't bother you, but it really does. seeing him walk away whenever you go to speak to mark or lola, not even wanting to breathe the same air as you anymore.

you were sitting in your room with lola, she was telling you about how she overheard mark and jisung having an argument, and she believed it could have been about you.

"mark said something about jisung being selfish," lola said, scrolling through her phone as she spoke. "he said that jisung was hurting someone, that someone being you, and that it was unfair he treated them that way. jisung obviously didn't like it, saying that there was a reason he was ignoring you."

"sounds about right, but what does he expect?" you ask lola "he can't just drop me for someone else all the time and expect me to still be all over him."

"don't you worry.. i'll ask mark all about it when i go to his dorm later," she grins.

"god.. your relationship makes me feel morbidly single."

you both continued to chat for around 10 minutes before you heard a knock at the door. lola jumps up to answer, a frown appearing on her face as the door opens.

"who is it?" you ask, before turning your head to glance at the doorway.

jisung.

"i'll... uh, leave you two alone," lola mumbles, quickly grabbing her things and hurrying out the door.

it was silent for a moment. it was suffocating. like a grip on your neck so tight it felt like you were gasping for air. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, not wanting to see the barren look on his face.

he cleared his throat as if he was about to speak, but nothing came out, the silence lingering on for much longer.

"if you have something to say, just say it," you mumble, flicking through the pages of your homework, still not being able to build u the courage to look at him.

"i just- i just wanted to say-" he paused for a moment "-could you please look at me?" he asks.

your head raised slowly, eyes looking straight into his for the first time in what felt like years. his were red and puffy, they almost looked sore to touch; like he'd been crying nonstop for this entire month of no contact. gazing at him for the first time in a month felt terrifying, and it honestly brought butterflies to your stomach.

you almost felt joyful that he was here, but then his cruel words came flooding back in. 'that enid's more fun than you? she's easier to hang out with than you? she's not as annoying as you? that she's basically better than you in general?' and it made your heart tighten, and your stomach feel the same sickness it experienced that day.

"may i?" he asks gently, pointing towards the empty space on your bed, and you nod, mind feeling too fuzzy to even speak.

he once again stumbles on his words, unable to get anything out that was understandable or could even pass as an actual sentence. he takes a deep breath, inching closer to you until your noses were almost touching.

"i'm sorry.." he mumbles, and you could truly tell he was, but after what he said; that wasn't enough. sorry wasn't ever going to be enough. before you even had time to think, his lips were pressed against yours and you couldn't help but melt at the feeling.

despite this being all you've ever wanted, it still felt wrong, it felt forced. so you pulled away, to jisung's surprise of course. "w-what.." he stuttered, looking at you with a saddened expression on his face.

"y-you- you can't just-" you stumble on your words, not being able to think of what to say, your mind so clouded by the feeling of jisung's lips on yours.

jisung stood up, looking worried, questioning whether he had made a mistake and whether he should have even turned up in the first place.

"you can't just kiss me like that!" you scolded, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at him, what seemed like hatred feeling your eyes. "you can't kiss me and expect everything to be okay, not after everything you've said! you don't get to say sorry and kiss me, things don't work that way jisung," you continued, feeling even more hurt than before.

"but i thought you- i thought you liked me.."

"whether i do or not, you can't just come here and kiss me like that after what you said to me. you can say you're sorry all you want but you don't accidentally say those things, you only say stuff like that if you truly believe it," you spoke, voice shaky whilst sticking up for yourself.

"i see.. yeah.. i get it" jisung chuckles sadly "dont worry, y/n," he says in an almost bitter tone. storming out just like he did a month prior.

in that moment, you pulled out your phone and messaged chenle.

'hey.. can we talk :)'

mark: 'of course! right now? i'm free!'

'please.. it's about jisung.. meet in the courtyard in 10, it's late so barely anyone will be there'

mark: 'sounds great! see you soon!'

jisung storms back to his dorm, slamming his door behind him due to the anger built up inside him.

so much rage and aggression was trying to claw his way out, that he let out a straight yell, knocking over one of his art desk.

after breathing for a moment, he picked up the canvas, noticing it was ripped down the middle. it was a painting of you; he hadn't been able to get you out of his thoughts, his mind racing back and forth, burdened by the image of you all day long. and whenever he feels, he paints. that's why almost all of his entire workload recently was infested with images of you, some small sketches, others big canvas pieces fit for a gallery.

"what am i gonna do?" he mumbles to himself, chucking himself down onto his bed and running his hand through his hair in defeat.

honestly, he was so confused and didn't even know how he was feeling anymore. for a while, he was convinced he liked jieun, seeing her every day caused a spark inside him to light up and he chose to chase it. but then there's you, he'd never noticed it until after the argument, but being away from you, not speaking to you or even being able to indulge in your presence was physically painful.

seeing you every day but feeling too ashamed to speak to you felt like something worse than torture, it became too much that he was convinced he'd rather die than be away from your bright light. after feeling such loss, despite still seeing you around, made him realise he didn't like jieun half as much as he thought.

the constant longing he felt for you, the need to be around you and see you, to touch and hear you was all too much for jisung.

he started to realise that he liked you. he.. he loved you.

and suddenly those 3 years of friendship didn't feel so platonic at all. it felt like every second you knew each other, you were in love.

i mean who platonically spoons their friends until they fall asleep, who platonically gives their friends forehead kisses, who platonically would do anything and everything for their friend just because they had asked you too.

"but now she hates me.." jisung whispers, eyes welling up in shame.

you stepped towards the bench you spotted mark sitting at.

barely anyone else was around at this time, besides two girls you recognised from one of your classes sitting towards the main doors gossiping about some random boy you'd never heard of.

"hey," mark hummed, giving you a comforting smile. "lola told me jisung came to see you earlier..."

"he kissed me," you blurt out. "w-what?" mark choked, extremely shocked by jisung's sudden and bold move.

"he kissed me," you repeated "he didn't even say anything, he didn't explain himself or anything of the sort. he just said two fucking words; i'm sorry; and then kissed me, and thought everything would be okay. i said he can't say or do what he did and expect a kiss to make everything better, and then he stormed off once again."

"i told him to talk to you... just not like that," mark sighed at the younger boy's actions. sure, chenle wanted you both to get along again; you were two of his best friends and seeing you not involved anymore was heartbreaking for him and the rest of the group, but he didn't think jisung would be so tone-deaf to the situation.

you and mark talked for a good hour, originally about jisung but then you delved into other topics as he saw talking about the boy was really starting to get you down, surely some other conversation would take your mind off things.

and suddenly, there he was again; jisung slumped through the doors that lead to the doors, instantly making eye contact with you and mark giggling at whatever you two were talking about at the time, and he saw red. he knew full well that mark was with lola, he knew you saw mark as an older brother but that didn't stop his mind from wandering and creating impossible scenarios as to why you were both out here so late. alone. together.

"what the fuck?" jisung yelled, thankfully, anyone else that was sitting outside was long gone. he approached you and mark, jaw clenched just like his fists. "what the fuck is this?"

"what is what?" mark asks in confusion at the boy's sudden surge of aggression.

"this!" jisung yells, pointing at the two of you. "whatever this is!"

"it's a couple of friends... talking," you reply dryly.

"talking about what? huh?"

"you.." mark chuckled "and how much of a dick you're being. playing with people's emotions isn't cool, man. kissing them? what were you thinking? did you really think kissing them would fix everything? don't be so delusional. do you even like them?"

"yes! of course i fucking do!" jisung replies. you could see the anger in jisung's face rising, not pleased by mark's constant digs. "and then i come out here to you and them giggling and being too friendly," he spits.

"at least i'm being nice, jisung. treating them how they're supposed to be treated," mark growls back, becoming progressively annoyed with how one of his best friends was acting towards you and the situation. "someone has to fucking do it," he finishes, rolling his eyes.

"don't you think- i've always fucking tried... you will never-" and suddenly, jisung's fist came in contact with mark's face, not even finishing his own sentence due to how much rage he was being to see.

"jisung! what the hell!" you yell, holding mark whose nose was now dripping crimson red. "what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

"i.. i.. don't know," jisung stutters, not being able to process what just happened. "mark.. i'm sorry- i really didn't mean to. i just- i couldn't stop myself!"

"jisung just leave," you mutter, trying to clean u what blood you can with the sleeve of your shirt. but he just stood there, watching you, unable to speak or do anything at all. "i said leave!" you yelled again, tears in your eyes as he began to walk away.

it'd been a few days since anyone had heard or seen anything from jisung. but at this point, not many of you really wanted to see jisung in the first place, not after everything he's done. he was constantly in his room, locked up, painting pieces for days on end.

no sleeping, no eating, no nothing.

for once, he was truly alone, and he didn't like it at all.

in the few days of isolation, he managed to complete the biggest painting he'd ever done. it was an abstract piece, a result of him just throwing random paints at the canvas in anger to see how it'd turn out, and to his surprise, after some touching up, the image started to look just like you.

he smiled at the painting, remembering how beautiful you were at all points of the day. you were the most stunning person he'd ever laid eyes upon, no wonder you made such a perfect piece of art.

in that moment, his eyes started to tear up. he was worried, fear coursing through his veins with every beat of his heart.

he was honestly terrified; terrified of losing you.

and he feared that he already had.

[rainykoo]

whimper (m)

masterpost : recent

wc: 1.8k

pairing: monkey d. luffy x (fem)Reader

summary : in-which you can’t help but wonder what other noises your loud captain is capable of.

warnings : sub-dom dynamics (like barely), post-timeskip luffy, non-established relationship, you subconsciously have a corruption kink, mentions of intoxication, drunk sex, use of devil fruit (AGAIN IK m’sorry i love being creative), LOTS of kissing, unprotected sex (nuh uh uh!), rough, multiple orgasms, praise kink (reader), overstimulation, luffy is very needy. 

‎ 

luffy has always been a rather vocal type, always having something to say— making sound effects at random. you of course have always adored that about him, listening intently as he rants and comments about various topics throughout the day.

it happened so subtly and gradually that it’s difficult to trace when you first started having such erotic thoughts about your captain. of course, you already, almost obviously crushed on him; long before these thoughts. but you’d never even imagine doing anything sexual with him. 

evenings ago, you were simply having quality time with the crew at dinner. casually nodding your head and intaking all the conversation going on around you while eating with luffy. he’d let out an 'ah!' of joy... maybe even ecstasy, every time he munched on his steak. it almost sounded like whimpering. you guess this must have been the key instigater, because from them on-- you couldn’t help but imagine how his voice would sound with you atop him, milking every last bit of seed from his cock. how he would shudder and whine under you, buried balls deep in your walls.

so maybe that’s how you ended up here in the captains quarters after a huge banquet, tangled in luffy’s arms as he kissed you. only moments before having drunkenly confessed your love to luffy— all you could recall was him softly saying “speak your mind (name) i wanna hear what you have to say.” before you went on describing how you dreamed of his touch, his whines, his everything. the room was spinning by by now, you didn’t understand how he’d agreed to letting you fuck him... but you could always discuss that after.

luffy kisses you messily. his arms roaming every inch of your back before settling a hand on your waist, bringing the other hand to rest on the back of your neck, so he could deepen the kiss. he pulls away slowly for a second, just enough for you to get a breath of air, but no farther. his hand reaching up to caress the side of your face and cheek as he holds you tight, mouth never straying far from yours. his eyes are shut almost tightly, so lost in the kiss that he might go weak in the knees. your body was physically expressing itself as well— a wet substance coating the fabric of your panties. he lets out a whine when you bite his bottom lip, slightly opening his mouth so you can clash with his tongue. you slightly part from him again so you can breathe, almost reconnecting lips afterwards, but luffy stops you— noses just barely touching. 

“(name).....” luffy whispered. “you really want me that much?" he’d say excitedly. there’s a big grin on his face and can tell in your captain’s voice that he’s turned on. “you can slow down, i wont go anywhere.. i promise ya!” he continues, giggling when he pulls you onto the soft mattress. 

“m’sorry.. i just wanna make you feel good” you respond, letting him strip you of your shirt, then bra. 

when you say that, luffy stares at you. he's breathing heavy, and slightly flushed. he smiles at you again saying, “nothing to apologize for” before pulling you down onto him, crashing his lips against your neck with a satisfied “mm”. he bites and nibbles aggressively, you pant loudly. his hands run down your body again, getting lower and lower. reaching the waistband of your shorts and unbuttoning them enough to slip his hand in. you choke out a moan when the pads of his fingers trace and press on the wet patch of your panties. 

luffy looks up at you, and lets out a surprised laugh. he’d never heard you make a sound like that before and he loved it. he pulls you back in the kiss becoming a mess of teeth hitting against teeth and tongues pushing against one another. you bring your hands down to feel his abs, tracing patterns all the way down to his lower stomach, tugging on his shorts. luffy gets the hint, pulling away and quite practically yanking them off. he can’t help but feel a tingle of nervousness, having never done anything like this before. a wave of shivers goes through luffy’s body when you kiss his neck and slide a hand down rubbing the throbbing pre-cum coated cock in his briefs. a loud groan escaping him in the process.

“m- ahh… more please” he whispers, hips jerking up when you grasp him, pumping his length slowly. his breathing becomes more short and rapid, whispers of your name leaving his mouth in an excited and breathless way. you jerk him slightly faster. his head shakes involuntarily, n his eyes roll up to the back of his head completely and totally lost in the moment, “f-fuck (name).. h-hah” he moans out. 

“does that feel good luffy..?” you coo, while he squirms. luffy was very overtaken by the feeling of your chilled hand wrapped around his painfully hard length, but he does his best to nod. it feels like he’s in the best dream ever, or heaven itself. but you interrupt his moment of pleasure by taking your hands away. you wanted him to save all the cum for when he’s inside you. he whines at the lost contact.

your already soaking wet, dripping at this point. so you don’t feel the need to bother with anymore foreplay. you just want to feel him, and he does too. you get rid of your shorts, then undergarments next. luffy following right after you. you grind down on his bare cock, luffy’s entire body shudders, and he’s not sure what to do. his mind is blank, and all that it’s capable of thinking about right now is the amazing feelings he’s experiencing because of you. 

he can’t take this teasing anymore so he grasps your hips, forcing you to sink down on him with a moan. luffy gasps, the feeling making the sounds that he lets out even louder and more primal. “w- ah fuck, you feel s’good (name)!” you let your head fall backwards, a string of noises leaving your lips. luffy’s hands would hold tightly, helping you to move. he’d moan shamelessly and utter words of praises as you bounced on him. “so warm, god please don’t stop” luffy says breathlessly— though theres no way you would be able to, with how desperately he rutted up into you and the way his voice sang out sweet praises which rung through your ears. “keep talking.. i love hearing you” you say in a breath. his praises continued, cock rubbed and bumped at your g spot, blurring your thoughts. the original pain from the stretch he gave you long gone. your brows crashed together, legs slightly shaking.

“shit- aahh c-captain!!..” you heave out, feeling your climax hit you faster than expected in a way that left your head pounding.

all thought and logic have left his head at this point, but that’s ok. you didn’t call luffy captain often, and never in this context- so it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you when he whimpered and let his cum spill into you. his arms tightening around your waist as they start to glow in red light. you can’t quite catch what he whispered, luffy's body starts to glow in red light as well. his pupils become more slitted and snake like. he pulls you even closer. your chests now beating against eachother.

“feels t-too good” he says to you in a tone he has never used before.. luffy's voice had almost completely changed. it became way more raspy, and deeper. his movements had slowed down, but never completely coming to a halt. so it didn’t take long for the overstimulation to course through your body. “w-wait! nngh…”

he looks at you through half lidded eyes, the cum from the both of you making a ring around the base of his dick as he continues thrusting upwards. “o-oh wow!” luffy let’s out a throaty chuckle, he didn’t think he could go any deeper, the sensation was amazing. “(nameee) ah- i love being inside you! i need to stay inside you..”

he instantly lifts you up, his already broad arms even more muscular because his snakeman form. you get flipped over, cock still buried in you. he’s now slightly bent over you, ass pressed against his thighs.

the moans that leave your throat at that moment, could’ve- no must’ve echoed through the ship by now. and your captain wasn’t any better. he’d verbally and loudly express the feeling you clenching around him caused. abusing your pussy with his throbbing length reaching areas you didn’t even deem to be possible.

never once caring to even hush himself. you had brought a hand to your face in attempts to muffle the guttural noises you were making, but he’d pin the both of your hands behind your back. “stop, i wanna hear you.” luffy rasped. he’s fucking you dumb by now, drool slightly dribbling from your chin as he repeatedly calls out you name. beads of sweat formed on your bodies, you felt the second climax of the night threatening to break you.

“cumming, captain i- m’gonna cum!”

luffy wants to say something, but his mind his not functioning, the only things able to leave his mouth being moans. he furrows his eyebrows, eyes rolling back. you clam down on him, breath hitching as your juices coat him.

in response luffy’s entire body had just been rocked by the intense climax, which makes him collapse on top of you and gasp for breath. you feel his seed spill in you, it drips down your thighs ticklishly. you shudder euphorically.

it’s hard to see, but his eyes seem to be slightly tearing up he’s so overcome with exhaustion, euphoria and love that he’s not sure if he cried out because he’s happy or intoxicated. probably both.

your eyes fluttered. the feelings from the incredible climax he just had still remain. feeling a little bit overwhelmed by the feeling of what had just happened, luffy takes in deep breaths. you were both fucked out, snuggling and shifting around to be in each others embrace.

luffy smiles and nuzzles against you when he finally calms down. there’s a certain warmth he gets everytime you sleepily look at him with adoration. you had a lot of questions, but right now you were just happy to be in his arms. “only me..? right?” you’d ask in reference to what just happened. your hand stroking his hair. “only you, you’re the only one who’ll ever hear my whimpers (name)” he whispers flashing you a grin followed up by his iconic laugh.

as long as he only makes those sounds for you, everything will be okay.

it think this my fav writing by me so far although it’s shorter than i’d hoped.

©2023 rainykoo  ‎   you are not to plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on tumblr nor any other platforms.

[dufferpuffer]

In continuation of the 'pillow prince/ss/' topic.. Snape sex hcs? I remember you said it's basically impossible to drag him into bed but I'D TRY.

You're just spoiling me, aren'tcha? First Remus now Sev... Severus Snape is devoted to duty. Its the only thing holding him together. How often does he even go to bed…? A full-time teacher, a spy, a death eater, Dumbledore's dark little knight - He probably considers the time he spends marking 'rest enough'.

His self-esteem is dead. So dead he has come to terms with its corpse and uses it as protection. He's been teased his entire life for his looks. By his parents, by his schoolmates, by his teachers, by his cult, by his students... He's proud of how it has hardened him. It's become part of his ego: He's heard it all before - and now the words run off his oily feathers like raindrops.

Having someone say they think him anything less than hideous? Baffling. But while Remus would become a flustered mess... I think Severus would stages-of-grief it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression… Because his romantic, affectionate side is also a corpse. It died alongside his best friend and he's spent the last decade-and-a-half making sure it stays buried.

To bring it back? That will take a stubborn dedication that rivals his. It takes grit and damn near necromancy. He will fight back, too - because to raise it from the dead is to raise Lily along with it. That is the greatest hurdle: Best friend or love of his life - either way she was the only person he has been affectionate with. He will need to digest that. He hasn't worked through his grief yet, because it is a difficult thing to work through alone. …but he CAN reach Acceptance.

One step, one stage at a time - peeling down each layer of his onion, like an ogre... Things move slowly with Severus - and in the opposite order you might expect. I guess I will go through what a relationship would be like with Severus, in a sorta dot-point fanfic format:

First note: He is allergic to showing weakness - and what he considers a weakness can be... strange. Indulgence. Emotions, affection, touch, company - he has no time for that garbage. He is in control of himself, of his body, of his feelings, of his life. Meticulous, complete control. This man 'tops' exclusively**

He is ashamed of masturbation. It means he has lost control of his emotions - and it grinds against his ego like sandpaper. He almost never does it. Thinking about anyone in particular when doing it is an insult to them - and he hates feeling guilty. He keeps it simple and almost self-harmingly dry. He has more important things to be doing with his time than engaging with this weakness…

You make your interest in him clear. He goes through everything - he belittles and denies your feelings, he gets angry with you for bothering him, he asks you to stop saying such nonsense... and he gets frustrated that even when you've finally shut up, he is STILL dwelling on it. He spends so long just tossing things up, sorting through his grief, imagining it... so, SO sick of jerking off… …when the dam bursts - he fucks. If he is going to be spending all this time obsessing over these stupid feelings he may as well get something out of it. Only sex, though. Sex he is in control of. Clothes on, greedy, not pretty, not nice. 'Thats what you wanted from me, yes? Well you've gotten it. Happy?!?' ((He does not expect the answer to be 'yes'.))

He thinks one time was too many, and did it only to take it off his mind - and to stop having you bother him about it. But it is easier for you to get him to do it a second time. And then a third... fourth... The more times it happens - and nothing embarrassing or bad follows... well, if he has done it once, he may as well do it more, right…? You are evidently trustworthy. '…You may come to my chambers IF I call - at no other times. I am too busy to play silly games.' A casual physical relationship - to solve a problem of distraction and concentration. That's all.

He does start to call. Occasionally at first - and every time he almost shows surprise that you actually turn up. But he gets less and less surprised... and starts getting more and more needy. 'You're late. I sent for you half an hour ago. Do you think I am made of time?!' He doesn't even realize how needy he sounds, because this activity is now ingrained in his routine. He is used to it. And because he is used to it: He touches more. More clothes come off. But never his own. He has gone from 'hands-on-waist' fucking to caressing your naked body - slow rolls of his hips, making his own breathe shudder, enjoying every sensation.

One day his summons aren't replied to. At first he angry. How dare you. How DARE you waste his time!? The next time they are alone he snaps at you bitterly. 'Finally tired of me? Got your fill? Met a better man?' When the response is more along the lines of 'I was a bit ill' or 'I was out'... he realizes he has shown far too much of his hand. How embarrassing. He is speechless at his own foolishness. He showed an inch of vulnerability and expects to be raked through the coals for it. ...What he doesn't expect is acceptance, tenderness and respect.

He had forgotten that he wasn't the one to initiate this arrangement - that he was wanted. Desired. In his mind he had taken control: Everything happened when he wanted, where he wanted and in whichever way he wished. To be touched in a friendly way? To he apologized to - for being made to worry? To have make-up sex offered…? '…Yes. Alright.' Its the next layer peeled off. He starts listening to offers, enjoying being asked instead of being answered. It's still a casual affair - and yet seeing them talk to other people no longer makes his hackles raise in concern for his secrets. Running into them in the morning no longer makes his skin crawl with shame and embarrassment for the night before. He feels excited when they pay a visit in the midday, offering an impromptu meeting. It is oddly... comfortable.

Of course it can't always be sex in the midday. It is too much effort, takes too much time, energy and clean-up. It suits him fine when you jump on the chance to put him in your mouth. At first he is a little taken-aback - but it feels nice. He says nothing other than contented hums, but as you get better he groans and arcs his back a little. He doesn't care what happens when he finishes - swallow or not, as long as it is not a mess for him to clean up. …Well, he tries to be that callous about it… but it doesn't last long. There is a tenderness to the act he can't deny. It isn't the mutual-benefit fucking. This is a gift for him to enjoy. That realization settles and festers in him. It creates a soft feeling he doesn't recognize... and a desire not to owe you anything.

So, without much fanfare: he reciprocates. He gets you on his seat, or on his desk, and gets down on his knees... He is a little nervous about it - when was the last time he did this, if ever…? - But he has no need to be. He is a god with his mouth. It's his attention to detail. His devotion to getting things done thoroughly and properly - even this. What starts as an embarrassing action from the weakness of his heart turns into a strong pleasure for him. He LOVES oral. It isn't him losing control: it's him gaining it. Even when his hair is gripped and yanked, even if he is pulled close and suffocated a little on you - HE is making that happen. HE is making you do that. He never expected this to make him so happy, so hot. He never expected to undo the buttons of his high collar so his neck could move more easily, to unbutton and fold up his right sleeve so he could get his hands messy... To have enough fun to start saying some truly dirty things… 'That good, is it~?' 'My-! How delicate you are today!' 'Stop squirming. Too sensitive…? Just grit your teeth and bear it.' ...and he didn't expect to not be laughed at for such things.

He certainly didn't expect to get so into it that he kissed you to shut you up as you came. A shock to both of you… another wall crumbled. Turns out he likes that too. He starts initiating sexual activity with a kiss. He prefers kissing to talking. It is succinct and expressive. Walk into his office: as soon as the door is shut your back is pressed against it, wrists in his hands, his mouth against yours. If he starts losing control of the kiss he gently bites your lip, dragging his teeth along it teasingly. Your tongue invades his mouth before he has a chance to do it first: he just about shoves your hands into his robes, tearing into your clothes... This man lives for kissing now.

But he still doesn't realize this is more than casual, that this is something he needs… Until you chat. Its a quiet moment. You comment on the parchments rolled at the edge of his desk. 'Oh - that is just my own research into the effects of aconite. I had to work with it extensively a few years ago.' You take an interest, and he starts regaling deeper and deeper into his studies: how poorly documented others' research is; how it reacts to other ingredients; how modern brewing processes can draw so much more out of it - 'you know, the plant is often just passed off as toxic when even basic purification charms are enough to-' ...He is blabbering. On and on about a dull topic nobody cares about… yet you are listening. His jaw drops a little. He realizes that, for the first time in two decades, someone cares. Someone truly cares. About HIM. His thoughts, his interests... He never thought he could have this again. He didn't think that for the sex, either - but sex, compared to this, was easy to procure. He wants to kiss you again. But not for lust this time.

Suddenly it doesn't feel so embarrassing to allow his eyes to become wet, to draw a shuddering breathe as he builds the courage - of which he has masses of - to say something important: '…I am afraid I have come to love you.' It is a terrifying thing to say, but he has never once shied away from saying what is important, even if it results in pain. And yet this time, for once… he feels like he can trust that it wont.

** Many times later, he is laying down as his shirt gets unbuttoned, his collarbone kissed... He doesn't feel ashamed, even as he gently strokes his own dick, encouraging it to harden. He pulls his arms from his shirt sleeves, fearless of his dark mark being exposed. For once work is at the back of his mind as he allows himself to be pushed back down to into the pillows, chuckling as he is told: 'Shh… just lay still darling… I'll take care of you tonight…' ...And he does. Control well out of his hands and a smile on his face.

[ash-says]

Cheating Anxiety With Me

Seatbelts tight? Hands Steady? Are you still shaking? No, then lets rideeeee.

Anxiety the feeling of dread, uneasiness, fear, shaking, restless, heart beating rapidly, etc

Coping with anxiety is difficult especially for the mentally deranged girlies. No hate I love you all. You are just so my type of people.

Today I am going to tell you how to deal with it because you know what I say, "Kill or get killed."

The classic deep breathing technique: Start from 1 breathe in to the count of 4 then hold at 5 and breathe out from 6 to 10. This will help in evening out your breathing and slow down your heart beats.

Move, Sway and twirl: You feel an anxiety attack taking over you the best way to tackle all that excess energy released through FFF hormone is by MOVING YOUR BODY. Exercise. Dance. Run. Anything just move.

Sleep: Yeah, you read it right. Just shut down your system and sleep. This is my personal go to. Overwhelming anxious thoughts, feelings, anything we let it marinate over a nap. Works wonders for me.

Talk to a friend: Another personal go to. Sometimes the feelings are so loud, disturbing and dark that sleep is no longer an option. At such times talk it out. Seek a friend. Best if they are physically present with you. Ask for a hug. Loving touch. Don't be embarrassed. It does wonders. Trust me.

Nature therapy: One of the ways I accidentally discovered was that trees, plants and flowers can be extremely calming. No one to rely on. Go and hug a tree. I promise you it works. Social anxiety? Okay I got you also covered. Buy some fresh flowers or if you have house plants touch them. Inhale their scent. Graze the petals or leaves lovingly and tenderly. Feel them. It will calm you down.

Sugar saves the day: Okay some people might come at me for this one but honestly anything sweet is the holy grail for dealing with it. Now the trick here is not eating desserts and chocolates but rather fruits like grapes, banana, watermelons, etc. Basically eat healthy things. We don't want diabetes now, do we?

The 333 rule: This one goes like name 3 things in your surroundings, identify 3 sounds and touch 3 things. This helps in distracting your brain and calming down your wreck of a system.

Positive self talk: Keep on repeating like a broken record that it is going to be okay and you will get through it. As loud as your inner thoughts get that much loud this self talk gets. Basically overpower that annoying bitch inside you. Winning is the only option.

Identify the triggers and face them: Literally be a detective and find out your triggers and then put yourself through it by yourself until it becomes a normal thing for you. I am not advising this for dangerous things but you can try this on smaller triggers. Example: A song, a scent, a topic is a trigger to you. So now listen to that song, inhale that scent, read things around that topic willingly and train your brain and body to tackle it so that when it comes up suddenly your brain doesn't go in survival mode.

No to drugs, alcohol and risky behaviors: You should be going to them over your dead body. Please I am begging you don't indulge in them. Yes I am asking you lovingly, with teary eyes please don't do this to yourself. Don't punish yourself more. The world is already a harsh place if you won't be kind to yourself, who will be then?

Bonus one: Find a strict no bullshit friend who isn't afraid to call you out on your toxic behavior, put you in your place and is ready to be the pillar on which you can rely on. Because we are not able to differentiate in right and wrong during those times. Its really difficult to maintain the moral compass. That's why you need a community of trusted people to hold you down.

Fight your way back. Because this world is a cruel place babygirl. You do anything to survive. If you are still dreaming of a saviour. Dream on.

[shini--chan]

Can I have the reader insulting the axis members using ✨historical ✨ facts to make them feel guilty on purpose? Similar to that Prussia ask?

Oooo this is a nice one. Serving coming right up. This will be excluding S.Italy this time,

Yandere Axis - National Guilt

Austria

"Says the one who locked thousands in concentration camps", you snapped at him. That made Roderich halt, the sandy ground crunching beneath his hiking shoes. 

"Do you really want to discuss the Nationalsocialitsts with me? I'm not the right person for that - go pester Ludwig instead", he shot back, not even deigning to look at you as he said that. The cheek he had, to even resume walking!

You ran after him. At this point, you were just so furious - about his arrogance and self-righteousness, about how he always evaded questions and played other verbal spiels. 

Grabbing the sleeve of his coat, you yanked him back. 

"Don't you realise that I'm talking about you, and things that only you have done? I'm talking about your crimes, your sins that you refuse to repent", you spat at him, your voice becoming louder with each further word. 

This time, he turned to you fully. His hands were trembling with rage and a nasty sneer graced his lips. A bad omen, if anything. 

"Are you one of those that constantly brings up the fact that Hilter was Austrian? If so, I strongly recommend you cease talking about things you don't know. He was the Chancellor of Germany, and died German. The place of birth is trivial in contrast to the morals a person adopts."

"I didn't even have the Holocaust in mind, or the Second World War. Instead, I'm talking about the First World War, and some of the horrible things you did then", you hissed. 

This caused him to frown. While you had gotten better at discerning his masks from his genuine expressions, at the moment you couldn't tell if he was scrunching his eyebrows due to honest confusion, or just as a ploy to throw you off. Eitherway, it wouldn't hurt to remind him what you were implying. 

"What about all those Ukrainians from Galicia you brutally killed in the Thalhofer concentration camp, just because you were afraid that they were working for the Russian Empire?"

As a general rule of thumb, Roderich would seek to avoid confrontation because he views it as boorish and uncultured. However, that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to go head to head to get what he wants, or to defend himself. If anything he can become very nasty and aggressive once a confrontation starts, and doesn't shy away from delivering low-blows, be they verbal or physical.

In total, he tends to be cautious, so once you start he'll do his best to make you shut up or flip the argument around and corner you. Best knock his opponent down before the latter has full wind in their sails. Aside from that, he has counter arguments prepared for the most usual arguments, so it would best to come with a critique he hasn't heard off yet. 

Germany

"Why are you so scared of me?"

The question came suddenly, and broke you out of the uneasy reverie you had fallen into. Reluctantly, you stopped tracing the rain droplets racing down the car window and turned to watch Ludwig. 

Despite being the driver, he had turned his head to look at you. Generally, you had become used to the fact that he was a very irresponsible driver and no longer took offense at it. Perhaps one day he'd crash and then could run away. 

"Why on earth should I be scared of you?", you murmured. The sun is just a red line on the horizon and after the long day behind you, you are so tired. You don't want to have a row, but Ludwig has a special talent to get on your nerves. 

It is a difficult topic that he has broached as well, thus you have even less motivation to address it as it is. Would short answers make him eventually leave you be?

"Don't take me for stupid, I can see how uneasy you are around me. While I might be lacking in social skills, even a blind fool would notice how you stumble over words or shy away from looking me in the eye when we talk", he reprimanded you. In a rare show of anger, he flexed his hands holding the steering wheel.

"Are you scared of me because of what I did in the past?"

At that statement you had to laugh. Ludwig could be hilarious without intending to be, with how he suffocated himself with guilt and drowned himself in attempts of humility. Your laughter made his eyebrow twitch. 

"To correct you - I detest you, in regard to the past, based on all the times you turned a blind eye when you could have helped and made a difference. Like when you sent escapees back to that cult in the Andes", you retorted. "They were your own citizens, yet you sent them back to the hell that was Colonia Digndad."

The irony here is that the guilt that Ludwig stews in everyday can make it harder to reach him. The reason for this is that his internal monologue is at times harsher than anything you could say to him. As such, he would either brush your arguments off due to them being milder than the ones he knows. Or he'll take to heart, and try to make it up to you. Though that wouldn't automatically mean he'll release you. Or he'll repent for his sins in church or through community service. 

Of course, there is the chance that he'd break down if you continue attacking him and forcing him to confront his past mistakes. However, him breaking might not lead to the best outcome - you could cut yourself on the shards. Ludwig snapping could manifest as him locking you away, or even killing you.

Italy 

Feliciano had a sour expression on his face, which was surprising, especially since the two of you were in public. Granted, he had booked a table on the indoor balcony of the restaurant - a private setting in a public place. Nevertheless, even this would usually be too public for him to discard his carefully crafted masks. 

“You are simply too simple-minded to understand that things were different back then. Do you think that you would have been better if you had lived back then”, he countered, in an uncharacterized serious manner. If anything, this whole conversation had been out of the ordinary. 

Over time, you had learned that one Feliciano Vargas had many sides to him - playful, prideful; sometimes self.righteous but always very sly. 

You set down your desert spoon with more force than necessary. “My point is that you haven’t changed since then. You are still a snake that speaks with a forked tongue. At the end of the day, you care more about your wallet than anything else. Despite everything that has happened, you are still a city-state at heart that hasn’t grown out of his barbaric way, and not a nation that is worth taking seriously.”

Perfectly plucked eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. You would have been fooled if you hadn’t been acquainted with him so well, you would have missed the way of how the muscles around his mouth tightened. That was when you knew that you could count yourself lucky that you were in public. 

“And yet, here I stand, while others have fallen.”

“Why that, other than that you’re a treacherous weasel?”

Arguing with Italy might make him more serious and the two of you could end up having a serious conversation. What would happen, if that you would end up talking in circles, with him employing so many verbal traps and stalling tactics that you’ll end up either getting a headache or tearing your hair out. If you really want to trip him up, then you would need a third party pitching in, or get him inebriated and sad.  

Interesting enough, this would be one of the “misbehaviours” that you’d be punished for - he doesn’t need you thinking that you can paint him as a criminal or colonialist. He’s taken so many steps to steep his previous misdemeanours under the rug; he doesn’t need you dragging skeletons out of the closet.

Japan

“Please go make some tea. You apparently don’t have enough to do”, he mumbled, without even looking up from his book. It honestly made you feel very pathetic, this whole situation made you feel very pathetic. You weren’t even having a fight, it felt more like you were a lunatic that was screaming at the wall. 

“Oh, so now I’m some servant to you. Bet it was like that during the Second World War for you too - just kidnap some locals and force them to work in your manor”, you hissed, and didn’t make a move to go to the kitchen. 

In some ways, you even wished for him to shout at you in turn - it would have made you feel less childish. As it was, you had started hurtling insults and arguments at him for the last half hour, and the only way he acknowledged you was through non-committal replies and half-hearted answers. 

“I was too busy in the military at the time to have a manor. Now hop along.”

To him, the way to win the game would be not to play in the first place. So he would simply not participate in the conversation and let you shout and rant at him until you are blue in the face and tire from your self-appointed mission. Should you strike a weak spot, then he would make you leave or he would dismiss you and leave the room. 

It is not that he wouldn’t feel pain or anger from your words - it is just that he would elect to remain stoic and let you think that nothing you say can really get him. You don’t teach your opponent how to wage war, so he would go to great lengths to conceal such weaknesses from you.

[rainbowsky]

GG and DD and queer representation

As some of you might be aware, Greece has finally legalized same sex marriage. This was very exciting news!

I had an ask related to the Greek marriage equality debate and had begun drafting a response but ended up getting sidetracked, and by the time I got back to this post marriage equality had already won.

I figured I'd finish this response because it covers some ground that newer turtles might find useful (and because I hate leaving things like this unfinished).

@rozanthi asked: Πιστεύετε πως οι χελώνες βοηθούν η δυσκολεύουν τους ggdd στην σημερινή πραγματικότητα;

Hi rozanthi!

Here's the rest of the ask(s) rozanthi sent.

rozanthi asked: Sorry l put my question in English and not in Greek by mistake. Do you thing that turtles benefit or harm ggdd in today's sircumstansies, reality. I apologize if in someway l offended you with my question about turtles and ggdd. Maybe that is the reason why you didn't answer. But you see, in my country(Greece) these few last months, a debate is going on in our parliament about voting to make political marriage between people of the same gentre legal. There has been a lot of fight and tension from our church and people with no manners or Shane minds. I asked you that question because l support ggdd as a couple in a relationship as barriors of a message as pioneers of something important for China to accept. And l wanted to know how much public support in the form of turtles help them along or make it more difficult. Here as more we support homo. homosexuality we bring thanter and more hate. In February we will know if we made a baby's step in out parliament. Support your ggdd in any way you see tat you really help them and not making it worse on them. They need support Ln the most gentle delicate way. Thank you for baring me.

First of all, it's OK to send me an ask in another language. Don't apologize for feeling better able to express yourself in your first language. I can always machine translate and ask for clarification when I feel I'm missing something (and the asker can clarify if I get anything wrong). Although I think you've done an adequate job of communicating your question here in English.

Second, as I've said many times, people should never read anything into whether I answer their ask or not. It's almost always just a result of me picking easier/quicker questions to answer.

Now, to address the ask.

Your question reflects some misconceptions/misunderstandings about GGDD's situation and about what turtles represent. Some of the topics you're discussing here are not directly related, and I'm going to try to break them down into their component parts for you.

The first and most important thing I can say to you is (and this is really, really key to understanding GGDD and understanding what turtles are in China):

GG and DD are not representatives of the queer community, and turtles are not a political movement.

Quite the contrary. I think it's fair and accurate to say that GG and DD, and by extension turtles, actively take steps to avoid being seen as part of a political movement, queer movement, protest movement or human rights movement.

(In fact, unfortunately many turtles are actually not particularly LGBTQ-friendly, don't support queer rights or gay marriage, and don't even consider GG and DD to be gay/queer. Many believe GG and DD are only 'gay' for each other, which is homophobic and a reflection of poor sex education).

It's essential for their own safety that GG and DD are not seen as political movement in China, or as figureheads of the queer rights movement. The Chinese government and even a sizable percentage of the public at large tend to take a very dim view of anyone who tries to organize and rally around subversive political causes.

Especially the current government, which is very repressive and has been rolling back LGBTQ rights and freedoms and cracking down on queer orgs, shutting down LGBTQ outreach organizations, etc. Pride events and large public gatherings are treated as disruptive protest movements, and have been banned.

There are queer male turtles in China who actively avoid openly identifying as turtles in order to protect the fandom from being seen as a queer rights movement.

Turtles are a fandom and are categorized and treated that way both by turtles and by passersby. Just a fandom of 'cute young girls' clowning over some handsome boys they ship together.

It's important that it stays that way. GG and DD cannot be seen as leading a movement, they cannot take on the role of leading a movement, and many turtles would likely not even support such a movement.

That's not because GGDD are queer, by the way - although under the current government queerness is becoming in some ways more restricted and frowned upon at least from an official perspective - it's because political movements are frowned upon*.

*That's not to say that Chinese people don't organize or protest around certain causes, but those causes tend to be more municipal or limited in scope. Broader political movements - especially ones that appear to stand against the policies of the current regime - are generally very quickly quashed.

That's also not to say that GG and DD aren't hugely inspiring to queer people all over the world, because they are.

GG and DD do not even present themselves as queer.

This is important to keep in mind. GG and DD are closeted, and are assumed by the public at large to be straight single men. 'Eligible bachelors'. This is a double-edged sword, but ultimately it protects them and protects their careers. Top stars are a lot more marketable if there's a perception of romantic availability, and relationships - even relationship rumors - can have a massively negative impact on a star's career.

Even straight married stars hide their relationship status and present themselves as single for this same reason, and straight married celebrity couples - even ones who are out as being married - who attend industry events will often pretend not to know each other in public (sound familiar?).

Coming out as (or being outed as) married or in a relationship is viewed as career suicide, and a star's numbers, opportunities and popularity will plummet. Not always, but usually. Producers and backers know what sells, and married stars just don't sell as much as hot singles do. Fans will pursue stars that appear to be single, and drop them when they marry or come out with a relationship.

Heteronormativity means the vast majority of people in China will assume GG and DD are straight, and GG and DD will not 'correct' them on that. Quite the opposite, they go along with and even at times might say or do things that help feed the perception that they're straight.

There are almost no LGBTQ public figures in China, and those who are out are not top stars.

As international fans, what we do and think doesn't matter much.

Things that happen in the international fandom are largely irrelevant to people in China, and are almost never going to have any impact whatsoever on GG and DD. What we think about them and what they represent to us is of little consequence to their careers.

For example, the ongoing i-fan debate about colored light banners is a bit of a wank because nobody in the international fandom is ever likely to be at an event where we would have to make decisions about what color of light banner to bring. Our thoughts about colored light banners are utterly irrelevant to the fandom in China.

It's really easy to lose sight of that as an international fan, and get so caught up in and wrapped up in our own ideas and arguments and debates that we forget that nothing we say do or think really has any relevance to GGDD's lives.

Our support for their projects and merchandise and brands, our subscriptions to platforms to view their dramas, our movie tickets, our fan support when they travel internationally... these things do have an impact on them and do matter, but the opinions and political ideas that we might discuss and debate here on Tumblr or even on Twitter are highly unlikely to ever reach their circle or directly impact them, whether positive or negative.

There are some notable exceptions to this. Making candy out of nationalistic posts - particularly posts about events of national mourning or major political significance - is unwise and could potentially backlash on them. More about that in this series of posts from Pie.

I talked about some of the other harmful things we should be avoiding in this post.

But the idea that anything international fans might do or say as turtles might negatively impact GG and DD is - for the most part - not a reflection of reality.

There are valid reasons to believe GG and DD value turtles and take strength from our support.

This fandom has been around for 6 years, and in all that time GG and DD have never sought to shut it down. Other dating rumors, CP, etc. have been shut down over the years, but turtles continue to be the top CP in China and the fandom is constantly growing.

GG and DD have been caught on camera many times reacting positively to turtle light banners.

LRLG rumors - which many turtles believe hold a lot of credibility - have repeatedly depicted GG and DD as enjoying our support, and have at times directly expressed GG and DD's appreciation and gratitude to turtles for our support.

Despite the fact that this fandom is hugely controversial among GG and DD's solo fans and even among some passersby, GG and DD and some of their associates continue to regularly feed us candy. This is something that simply would not happen if we didn't have GG and DD's support.

If we believe BJYXSZD, then it only follows that turtles would mean a lot to GG and DD.

There is a fine balancing act between GGDD and turtles, where we show our support and they feed us, and we all try to keep things light and fly somewhat under the radar.

But turtles aren't 'under the radar at all'. Turtles are an incredibly active, vibrant, loud fandom in China, with big events and public charity work and fan activities and banners and billboards, etc. etc. However, they manage to fly under the radar because they're 'just fans'. They're not a political movement and they're not troublemakers. They're just a bunch of fans having fun together.

They also fly under the radar by being seen as a crazy fringe group, a bunch of deluded clowns. They are underestimated and dismissed because of this, which protects GG and DD.

A lot of turtles wear that proudly because they know that they're acting as a shield for GG and DD. Turtles make it possible for GG and DD to get public support for their relationship without having their relationship outed. Turtles take all the hate and ridicule that's piled on them, so that they can show GG and DD they're loved and supported.

This is one of the things about turtles that is most beautiful and powerful. Turtles stick their necks out every day to support and protect GG and DD.

I talked about that in more detail in this post.

I hope this helps give some context about queer issues as they relate to GG and DD, and to the turtle fandom as a whole. While many people inside and outside China support GGDD and are inspired by them and view them as queer icons, the way they are framed and discussed will differ wildly between the Chinese and international fandoms, and what is said outside of China won't have much of an impact on GGDD. That's for the best.

For my thoughts on the politics of all this, please see this post.

[borderlinereminders]

Definition Post for DBT skills

I am going to constantly update this post, so feel free to check back! Please note that some of the skills link to more detailed posts I've written on the topic (these ones are underlined because of the hyperlink). Some of them are Tumblr posts, and some of them are posts on my personal website (this site has no ads and is safe to use.) If there's a skill you want me to add to the list, let me know. If there's one you want to see described in more detail, feel free to request that one too. The ones I describe in detail tend to have examples to try and assist in understanding the skill.

Mindfulness: 

These skills focus on being present in the moment. Usually, it focuses on encouraging you to connect with yourself and others. 

Some mindfulness skills are:  What Skills:

Observe - Observe what is happening without reacting or adding commentary. For example, you might listen to the sounds around you and listen to what those sounds are without adding any additional comments. The goal is to focus on the here and now. 

Describe - When a feeling or thought arises, describe what is taking place to yourself, and label your feelings.. Let them go and don't dwell on them (don't judge them).

Participate - Fully immerse yourself in the activity and don't focus on other things.

How Skills

Effectively: Focusing on what works rather than focusing on what should happen, and what's right or fair.

Non-Judgmentally: This is about observing something, acknowledging it and then letting it go without attaching any opinions, judgements or guilt to it. Even if you have a judgmental thought, once you observe that thought, you let it go without beating yourself up for having it.

One-Mindful- This is the act of focusing on one thing at a time. This is being fully present in the moment with your focus on only one thing. 

Why Skills

Wise Mind - The goal of this skill is to balance your emotional mind and your reasonable mind. This link also brings you to a worksheet I made.

Tolerance:

These skills focus on surviving an immediate emotional crisis. 

ACCEPTS - Focuses on distracting with: Activities, Contributing, Comparisons, Emotions, Pushing away, Thoughts, Sensations

Grounding - The goal of grounding is to get you in the here and now. This can be especially helpful for overwhelming emotions, anxiety, panic, flashbacks and other situations. See the 5-4-3-2-1 method here.

Pros/Cons - Describe the behaviour you are trying to avoid. Consider the positive consequences (pros) of avoiding that behaviour. Consider the negative consequences (cons) of giving into the urge for that behaviour. Remember consequences from past times acting on those urges, and consider whether they would be pros or cons of doing it again. This can also be used to decide between two actions (or more).  This link also has a worksheet.

Radical Acceptance - The goal of radical acceptance is to accept our feelings, even the negative ones, and not push them down.

RESISTT - This skill is meant to help deal with overwhelming emotions. Reframing the situation. Engage in a distracting activity. Someone else. Intense sensations. Shut it out. Think neutral thoughts. Take a break. 

Self Soothing: These are techniques that involve using one or more of the five senses to provide comfort or pleasure to ourselves.

STOP - Stop, Take a step back, Observe, Proceed Mindfully

TIPP - Temperature, Intense Exercise, Paced Breathing, Progressive Muscle Relaxation

Urge Surfing: The goal of urge surfing is to "ride the wave" until the urge passes.

Emotion:

These skills focus on understanding the function of emotions. 

ABC - Accumulate positive emotions/experiences by actively doing things we will enjoy (eg. watch a movie, go window shopping), Build mastery in new skills (eg. playing an instrument, doing a puzzle), Cope ahead by planning for events we expect will be difficult (eg. a job interview, an upcoming social event). 

Check the facts - This is about examining your feelings in a situation and the facts of that situation, and rationally considering whether your feeling response (and the intensity of it) is reasonable given the facts.

Opposite action - Recognize your emotional response to a situation and the action you instinctively wish to take as a reaction to it, and instead do whatever is the opposite of that action (for instance, going out and doing something positive when you feel like staying in and dwelling on something making you sad).

PLEASE - treat PhysicaL illness, balance Eating, avoid mood-Alerting drugs, Sleep,  Exercise. 

Interpersonal: 

These skills focus on getting what you need from other people, building healthier relationships and communication styles, and dealing with boundaries and toxic relationships. ​

DEAR MAN - Describe, Express, Assert, Reinforce, stay Mindful, Appear confident, Negotiate 

FAST - Be Fair, no Apologies, Stick to values, be Truthful

GIVE - be Gentle, act Interested, be Validating, keep an Easy manner

Six Levels of Validation: - Information about validating someone in a situation which is a useful tool for healthy communication and relationships.

[setsugekka]

『atarashī 』 ; 09—𝐹𝐼𝒩𝒜𝐿

❝ the other side of love ❞ | mlist  ｡

student!hongjoong x fem!reader, husband!yeosang x fem!reader — drama, dark romance, mystery, heavy sexual content [6,3k wc] ch cws: smut, the truth, angst, the bad guy doesn't lose i fear.

It's not often that the Akademiya halls find themselves graced by your presence.

Every vibrate of your phone, every receiving of an email or incoming phone call has your stomach in knots even days after you divulging your deepest, ugliest secret to your best friend. Seonghwa swears that he won't tell Yeosang—won't be the one to go behind your back and tell your husband the information that he is deserving of knowing—because it's yours, but it doesn't make the impending stress of it all feel any less suffocating as it hangs on your shoulders.

Nights with Yeosang back home have been quieter; more space created between the two of you since that night approximately a week ago. Home less, or locked away behind closed doors more than he might have usually been. The distance between the two of you feels so much larger than it ever has been. Before, as a result of his career. Now?

As a result of you, most likely.

Hurrying down the halls and towards your destination, you have plans for the early afternoon of today that this particular coming together of colleagues has the potential to impede. Yunho always has picked the worst possible times to ask you to come grab a snack with him, but today especially is doing you no such favors.

You stop in front of the door that brightly hangs his name atop a shiny bronze plaque, knock twice, and are quickly answered to shortly thereafter by the man himself cracking open the door, glancing to see you, and then just as fast ushering you inside and shutting the door behind you once more.

"Long time no see, we don't often meet here," you say, playful. 

Yunho doesn't answer though—unlike him, usually just as silly in his banter with you. Instead, he brings himself back around to sit behind his desk, pulls a folder up in his hand and brings your attention to it.

"We should talk."

Equal parts of you know exactly what that is, and the other desperately hoping to pretend that you don't—that you're wrong. Nervousness strikes through you, tingles at your fingers tips as you slowly sit yourself down in one of the large, plush chairs that stand in front of his desk, as if you're a student yourself being reprimanded for one thing or another.

But you don't have it in you to break the ice of this topic. Instead, you wait in silence as Yunho stares you down, something judging but equally compassionate in his gaze towards you; like he knows what you have gotten yourself into, and like you never stood a chance to begin with.

He inhales, long and heavy. "I'm sure you can guess what this is," he says, slowly opening the yellow file and carding through some of the pages. "That student we discussed not too long ago, Kim Hongjoong. It was a bit more difficult than anticipated locating the rest of his sealed files—suspected that he had a pretty close relationship with someone on the admin board back at one of his other schools if he was able to get something of this degree locked behind these kinds of walls."

Something of this degree.

Yunho reaches over to his side, takes his reading glasses between fingers and put them on his face just before looking back up towards you again.

"Wasn't quite expecting this, however."

Silence falls between the two of you then. A part of you—probably the strongest part—doesn't even want to know what it is that your friend has unearthed.

"What has he told you about his stint in Hong Kong?"

You reel at the question, but for two reasons. You ignore the main part of it, the most obvious part, for the thing that underlines it. "Nothing really, why would he tell me anything?"

Yunho glances up at you again, briefly, eyebrow raised.

You continue on. "He just said that it didn't really work out for him, he burnt out and flunked out. Not really anything worth telling I guess."

"Has he ever asked you for anything that may pertain to your status in regards to the Akademiya, Aurelia, or the people that you may know by familial and social association?"

Chest tightening and throat dry, you feel a particular clamminess to your hands that doesn't often find you. Heart beating strong and fast behind your ribcage, but you have no other choice than to attempt to steady yourself—swallow all of these feelings down, quell the tremble in your breath and soon to be your voice.

"No."

It's then that Yunho spins the folder to face you, pushes it across the desk for your reading and sits back against his chair.

"The reason he was removed from the school in Hong Kong was because he was discovered to be engaging in an affair with at least one person on the admin board. I say one because only one admitted to it, but with how tightly sealed his record is in relation to it, my guess is that he ended on good enough terms with someone who was able to lock all of his nasty little secrets away."

You don't really want to see it, and it takes you a good, long while before you're able to collect yourself enough to lean forward and take the papers into your hands. 

Yunho continues. "So, I made some calls to that school over the past few weeks to see if I could find out anything else. Of course, it's relatively  confidential information in regards to past students so no one really wanted to say much, but I did get a hold of someone who mentioned that one time his computer was confiscated for something wholly unrelated to all of this, his search history was full of names and people. Industry people, mostly women. Women who could probably help him get ahead if he played his cards just right." He shrugs after that. "That's heresy, but it's not exactly difficult to put the very obvious pieces together, if you ask me."

You're different. This is different. What you have, what exists between the two of you, is not at all like whatever this is—whatever this was, has been in the past. 

Quickly and with a soft but firm sound, you shut the file. Push it back towards Yunho and away from you, as if its proximity capable of poisoning a truth that you seem so sure of. Yunho's eyes fall upon you instead of the item in question, which you don't like. You don't want to hear this, don't want to be seen in relation to this. Yes, you asked to know, asked to find out, but that was then.

And this is now. None of that matters. None of that carries any relevance to your relationship with Hongjoong now. You catch yourself considering how jealous a woman she must have been to get him expelled for their goings on, but quickly squash that just as fast as it rears its ugly head in your mind.

"Thank you."

Standing, you quickly whirl yourself around and head back towards the door that you've only recently just entered. Yunho allows it, allows you to go without much of a fight, and with a hand on the doorknob you nearly make it free of the prison that his office feels like before he grants you his final words.

"I saw you."

You still, frozen in place as terror creeps up through your bones. No strength to turn and face him, but you can hear him lightly shuffle in his seat as he reaches towards the file across the way.

"A couple of weeks ago, at a cafe down the street—" You know precisely when and where he means, the recent memory of you and Hongjoong giggling in a booth together in public, for anyone to see. "With him. You two appeared...close."

There's nothing to say in response to it. What could you possibly say?

"He's certainly smart, I'll give him that much. You're not technically employed by the Akademiya yet you have everything and probably even more to offer him than someone from the Akademiya would."

"It's not like that," you bite back, cutting. Displeased by the implication of his words.

"It, and what is it, exactly? Your affair?"

The two of you silence, and you crack the door open to leave.

"You need to call this off."

"Or else?"

"It's not a threat," Yunho says, sympathizes in a way that you can hear laden in his tone.

Then don't punish me for it.

You don't wait to find out if there's more, back down the hall and in the direction from which you came prior.

After all, someone is expecting you.

Repeated banging on the wooden door in front of you, seven, eight, nine—it opens relatively calmly halfway through your attempt at the tenth—calm, considering the urgency in which you pound upon it.

Fist stilling in mid-air, you look upon the man standing in front of you; someone that you have grown so fond of in such a short amount of time, a whirlwind romance that has caused you to lose sight of yourself, your morality, the vision that you've always had towards your husband, your marriage, and especially yourself.

Hongjoong leans on the door, cocks his head to the side somewhat expectantly, none surprised by your being there of course but even beyond that, seemingly unbothered by the stress that wears blatantly upon your form.

"You're late," he says, playful in delivery. His hair is messy atop his head, strewn about like he has only just decided to roll out of bed now that you've arrived, and likely anticipating only ending right back there. 

You push your way inside with no fight from him, Hongjoong closes the door behind you and you drop your bag in the middle of the floor—pacing a little, back and forth along barely waxed wood flooring that hasn't seen much tender love and care since the man in question has moved in. He watches you as you do, doesn't bother saying anything and likely under the assumption that you very much have something to say to him instead, should he simply wait for it. Not wrong, but how do you go about it? How are you to say it?

"I—" you start, then stop just as quickly.

Hongjoong turns his head slightly, inquisitive. "You?"

But instead of words outright, you rush to close the distance between the two of you. Arms coming up to wrap around his neck, pulling him against you and lips fast and hard finding one another. You can feel the shock laden in his body, though there's no reluctance to be found in the action as he is just as quick to follow through to meet you as he always is—always has been—because he is just as enamored by you as you are for him. Just as obsessed, just as everything. Hongjoong wants you, no, needs you just as urgently as you do him.

And so, you part from his mouth, though only enough to speak against it, still so close that any attempt to look at him renders you crosseyed.

"I'm going to leave my husband," you say with finality. "I want to be with you."

You can feel the switch flip beneath your grasp, the tension in his body at the words as he gently pulls away—creates more space between you where you stand in the middle of his living room.

Hands on your shoulders and quite literally holding you at arms length, Hongjoong inhales with something of a hiss, eyebrows pressing together in thought, in unsureness, certainly not in pleasure.

You feel a little bit as though you're dying at the sight of him like this.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he answers, hesitancy deeply embedded in his tone with no room for miscommunication in as much. "I—we never started this thinking that you were going to leave him, that this was going to become something permanent, right? It was just something fun, something for you to do when you're bored and your husband isn't around."

That's not what you've said. That's not what you've implied. The realization of so many things comes crashing down on you like the weight of the ocean, and similarly, you starkly feel the press atop of your chest. Like you're drowning. Suffocating. All of the oxygen having been sucked out of the room in an instant. Just that easy.

"Hey," he says then, reaches out a hand towards yours, pulls you close again so that the other one can lightly press fingertips into the flesh of your neck, your ear. "Don't think about all of that stuff, you came over here for a reason, right?"

Hongjoong's head dips down, warm lips ghosting across your jawline, settling at your neck just below. Your heart still threatens to beat straight out of your chest, fall through and settle on the floor between both of your feet. He doesn't seem to be all too bothered by that fact though.

And with how weak you are rendered by him, even in times like this, suppose neither are you.

Rolling your hips, you sigh out into the open air of his bedroom. Hongjoong's hands sitting tightly settled onto your hip, one on your waist as you grind against him. One tried and true method of forgetting everything else around you that you wish not to acknowledge nor think about—turns out it works even in the case of him, too.

Gazing up at you from below, Hongjoong watches you intently as you work him. Bottom lip pulled up between his teeth and eyes never for a second leaving you, your body, anything about you. Always you, never anything else but you—and still, Yunho's words from earlier set so heavily on your mind in a way that you hadn't quite anticipated them to; the idea that all of this has been so carefully, perfectly orchestrated by Hongjoong, the idea that much of this is a facade.

How much of it has even been real, and since when has it started? Since the first day you met him? Since that evening at the jazz lounge?

Or maybe even before all of that.

How early on in the hunt does a mouse know that it is prey? Perhaps depending on the aptitude of the predator—it never does. Not until it's far, far too late.

Hongjoong pushes his hips up, pulls down down with a perfectly timed grace. Like he knows you're deeply muddled in your thoughts and he's trying to break you out of the trance. It works temporarily, whining and meeting his efforts halfway once you remember where it is that you are, and what it is that you're doing.

"You're in your head," he says, an obvious statement. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to sit up and roll you over so that you lie beneath him instead. Pushes himself back inside with a slow, calculated drive. You wonder if it's part of his plan to always fuck you like this when he feels as though you're getting away from him a bit. Slower, gentler; the deception of love.

You think about the woman back at his school in Hong Kong. The women. 

He kisses you, teeth lightly nipping into your lip in just the way that you like—and even still, even now—it brings about the same response. A desire for him, an unbridled want. He's so good at this, whatever this even is, in totality.

"Joong," you whisper against his mouth, he hums in acknowledgment of it. "Do you want to be with me?"

The question is purposeful, and you mean the words that make the sentence up, but even more than that it is a test; a test to see the way that he responds physically. Hongjoong kisses at the corner of your mouth, withdraws only to slowly press his hips forward again—tip to full length. Makes sure that you feel everything, all of him.

It tells you everything.

"The only thing I want is for the both of us to get exactly what it is that we want from the other." A surprisingly honest and thorough reply, all things considered. You can't help but guess that he is catching on to your understanding of things now.

Slipping a hand down and between your bodies, he starts to rub careful circles against you as he fucks you—slightly harder, just a bit faster as if intentionally trying to take you to a place where you're teetering on the edge of release. 

And even with the knowledge that you seemingly have, it works. A man that knows you and your body so well, in ways that you've not previously thought possible. Hongjoong has wrapped you tightly around his finger in every possible way, and though you try to bite back the moan that sits strangled in your throat because it's just too easy for him, and perhaps he doesn't even deserve it in the same ways he once has, it's still not enough. Not entirely.

"I know what we both want," he says, airy but sultry as he continues his drives against you. "You, you want a distraction from your utterly boring life. Someone to pay attention to you, someone who makes you feel special, like you're the only one in the whole world."

Your orgasm sits just out of reach, but the words are true and in some ways confirm the suspicion that you've now found yourself contemplating: empty words. A man willing to do and say whatever it is that you want to hear, and you, so pathetic and wanting, thoughtlessly eating it up without a moment of concern. Hongjoong had you in the palm of his hand from the first time he called you his favorite. 

Where does that leave him?

When you come, Hongjoong follows shortly thereafter; holds you tightly against him and continues on with the ruse in telling you all of the ways in which you are so special, so perfect, everything to him. When the both of you finish riding the feeling out through each other’s bodies, he brings his face up from the crook of your neck and kisses you deeply and lovingly—just like he always has. As if the walls of the fantasy haven't already come crashing down around you.

"And what I want is to finally catch that big, big break."

Ah.

You lie there beneath him, staring up at the ceiling and through strands of brown hair that don't belong to you. Hongjoong kisses the side of your face, then your jaw once more before pulling himself up and removing himself from your body completely.

"So, this never meant anything to you."

Glancing down to the edge of the bed where he sits, sorting through previously removed clothes, Hongjoong looks back at you from over his shoulder and snorts out a laugh. "Mutually beneficial, has it not been?"

"You lied to get what you wanted from me."

Hongjoong pulls his shirt over his head, lackadaisical. "I gave you exactly what you wanted from me from the start. You wanted me to pay special attention to you, so I did. You wanted me to tell you pretty words that your husband doesn't, so I did. You wanted me to fuck you stupid numerous times a night, make it exciting, an enthralling secret that only the two of us know about...so I did."

You can't help but laugh. Less at him, and more so at yourself. He's not even wrong, and that's the ugliest part about it.

"And you wanted my industry contacts."

He glances back at you again, a beat of silence passing between you before he opts to answer. "I think I more than earned it."

"You're a piece of shit."

Still lying there, Hongjoong stands, pulls his pants up and walks around to the side of the bed—closer to you. Hands you your clothing that he has kindly gathered and extends them nicely.

"All the more reason to be thankful that you're not actually in love with me then."

You snatch them from his grasp, and he makes his way towards the table that holds his glass of water from earlier. Watches you as you dress yourself again, and then the both of your attention drops to your phone as it vibrates with the notification of an incoming call.

It's Seonghwa, and while you're none in the mood to be hearing from him about this, right now, all things considered, it gives you even more of a reason to get out of here—whatever it is that he is requesting from you. Your eyes catch Hongjoong's, and he simply shrugs. None of this matters to him anymore, anyway.

"Yeah."

"Where are you right now? You're not in your office."

You glance up at Hongjoong again who can most definitely hear the man on the other end of the line. He shrugs.

"Why? What's up?" Still can't say it, still can't admit to it even after divulging as much to the man asking.

Seonghwa doesn't reply right away, instead you can hear him engaging in some sort of discussion with another man that appears to be in his presence. Your pulse immediately strengthens, heart leaping into your throat at the thought of who it can be—until a rather distinct verbal tone serves as enough of an indication that it isn't your husband.

It's Yunho.

"Just...can you come down here? There's some stuff that we need to discuss and put to rest once and for all—"

You go to agree, lips parting to speak but before you're able to get anything out, Seonghwa cuts in to give additional instruction for how you are meant to arrive.

"And since I know you're with him... bring Hongjoong."

When the call cuts, Hongjoong puts his glass down and turns on his heel towards the front door—swipes his keys and wallet from the table and begins shoving his feet into chunky black boots.

"Where are you going?" you ask, assuming the worst of him. Assuming an escape.

He looks over to you and down the short hallway.

"Tying up loose ends." He stands, pulling a light jacket down and beginning to shrug it on. "Shall we, then?"

Down the long, carpeted Aurelia halls, students mind themselves along with a handful of staff from the Akademiya meant to oversee the tasks that they are meant to be accomplishing. It feels so disjointed to you, entering the premises like this; less as the groundskeeper of such a place, and more as someone lining up for slaughter at the hands of your best friend and colleague who await your arrival within the confines of your office.

As you make your way, you occasionally and briefly take a glimpse towards the man walking beside you. Hongjoong walks just next to you; hands shoved in pockets and idly gnawing at the inside of his cheek in a way that might suggest a kind of discomfort at what may be waiting for him inside, but to someone who knows him better—to you—you know it to be nothing of the sort. A comical level of blasé, of indifference. Unbothered by the circumstances that have brought him here as a whole.

Because really, why should he? The checkmate has been served, he has already won his hand.

The door is cracked open and waiting for you when the two of you reach it, Seonghwa standing just beside it and peering over once he hears your approach. He pulls it open enough so that you and Hongjoong can slip through, and although your eyes are centered wholly on him, his are instead focused on the man of the hour—the catalyst for your downfall, the method of your treachery.

Inside, Yunho is standing beside your desk with that all too familiar file in hand. Still, Hongjoong is unmoved by it, by the sight of it, despite surely knowing what it is.

Seonghwa locks the four of you inside, and now it feels like a prison. Judging eyes all honing in on you and your grave misdoings. Only one way for this to get any worse, and you're thankful to Seonghwa for that, at least.

"Right then," Yunho starts, clearing his throat and opening the file once more. "I think it's probably best for everyone if we cut straight to the chase."

Yunho is your peer, a colleague of the Akademiya, but in this moment of the time he feels much like an authority figure over you. It's projection, you understand that much; feeling small in the mounting evidence of everything that you've done and everyone that knows about it.

"There are bits of your records that are missing from your file," he says then, questioning. Looking up from it to eye Hongjoong as he stands firmly between you and Seonghwa who appears to be guarding the door. You wonder if he is anticipating a kind of escape from your affair partner. You know him uninterested in doing anything of the sort, perfectly pleased with the outcome of things and no fear of facing the aftermath of them. "Care to elaborate on why that is?"

"Is it necessary?" Hongjoong asks, offering nothing else beyond it.

Yunho sighs, pulls his glasses off from his face and closes the paperwork in hand. "I can hazard a guess. I made a few more calls today to some of the people who handled your expulsion—"

Hongjoong grins, like he's enjoying the verbal chess that he gets to partake in as a result of this. "So, then you know."

"The 'talented college burn-out who can't seem to make it happen for himself' story is certainly a good one, I see it's gotten you far in your endeavors. Getting your permanent record sealed to this degree, getting what you need from other people, avoiding said expulsion altogether."

That makes you reel. With confusion painting your features, you look towards Yunho first—his eyes still glued to the man in question—then to Hongjoong, who takes a moment to meet you at the very least.

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"You weren't really expelled at all, were you?" Yunho says, hardly a question as he cocks his head to the side knowingly. "Rather, you were going to be, but just like you always do, you found a way to leverage that out of the hands of the person intending to cast it down on you."

Silence passes through the room, Yunho cuts through it to speak again. "You always go through life manipulating women to get what you want out of them, or are your efforts best kept in relation to school, and your career?"

Hongjoong laughs at that. "You call it manipulation, I call it equal and fair exchange. Everyone gets what they want, don't they?"

Seonghwa steps forward suddenly, angry in a way that can be seen in every inch of his body. 

"You've ruined a marriage, probably ruined lives."

"I've not told her husband, and presumably neither have you. I have no interest in ruining her marriage, or anyone else's. She got what she wanted from me, and I was happy to give it. As many times as she wanted, as often as she wanted. We were all just playing our respective roles."

"We're talking about people’s real lives," Seonghwa says again, another step towards the man in question that dredges up so much rage within him. You've not ever seen him this angry before, and a part of you sits only mildly concerned in relation to Hongjoong's physical well-being. Not that it would be entirely underserved, not that it might not even be somewhat cathartic, too. "You say whatever it is that you have to say, do whatever it is that you have to do to get what you want from the people around you and then have the audacity to call it something akin to equivalent exchange—but you have nothing to lose, now do you?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "We weigh our options everyday in making decisions for ourselves. If you don't take an umbrella out and it ends up raining, whose fault is that? The weather, or yours?" He turns and looks at you then. "If someone knowingly decides to engage in an affair—whose fault is that?"

"The person who took the vows."

This voice—a different voice—comes from the doorway, behind Seonghwa who has since inched further and away from that place. You know it before your eyes settle on the keeper of it, but it doesn't stop you from doing so in the most defeated manner. In some way, and much faster than you ever might have anticipated, it's calming in a sense—to see him standing there, listening, coming into all of this knowledge—because now you are free from the secret.

Now, everything is laid out on the table in front of everyone.

Seonghwa swiftly turns, sees Yeosang and then just as quickly looks to you. There's a sort of compassion in his eyes that you know you aren't deserving of, but is being given to you on account of him caring for you, him being your best friend for so, so many years before now. 

Hongjoong doesn't bother replying, his point long since having been made and a quiet understanding among all of you that regardless of how large or little his devious part being played in this has been—he will never admit fault for as much. To Hongjoong, your affair with him is as simple as a kind of bartering system between two people; he gave, and then you gave, and everyone was happy.

Hardly his fault that you are now displeased with the outcome of your own decision making, and for that, you can't even really blame him.

Yeosang steps past Seonghwa, makes his way straight towards you. Ignores your friend, ignores Yunho, and even more shockingly, ignores Hongjoong until he stands himself right in front of you: gaze pointed, judging, full of a kind of hate and resentment that isn't only now beginning its rise, but rather something that has long since been festering and now meeting its spark.

Breath trembling, you slowly reach out for your husband's hand. He allows you to take it into your grasp, though he offers you no reciprocation in the act. Staring. Far from thoughtless, but no words granted to you. 

Your resolve crumbles then, a sob choking out loudly into the open air of your office as the people surrounding you watch on. Falling to your knees, you keep hold of Yeosang tightly, the man still willing to give you little more than a disparaging watchfulness.

"How long?" he finally asks, voice firm and plain. You don't have the breath, the capability to answer him, but you're quick to realize that the question is not intended for you when the other half of your betrayal speaks up in your stead.

"Two months or so," Hongjoong replies, hands still lazily shoved into his pockets. "Haven't been keeping count."

"That where you were that night that you didn't come home? Up all night, worried sick, even had your friend lie for you."

"Seonghwa didn't know—" you choke out the best you can. It's the least you can do, not drag him down in your deception like this.

"Spend your days with another man then come home and spend your evenings in bed with me. Did you even love me enough—respect me enough—to use protection?"

You cry harder at that, Hongjoong sucks his teeth at the question before giving the reply that none of you want to hear. "Not once."

Yeosang shakes his hand free of your grip shortly after, takes his leave quietly and without another word. There are no other words spoken within the office where you lie with hands to your face and sobs ripping from your chest. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. 

Yunho leaves next, and Seonghwa just thereafter. He offers you a modicum of solace, at least; hand pressing into your shoulder to remind you that he's there, and maybe even that he still cares for you in some way, shape or form. In spite of your flaws. In spite of all of the ways that you have failed everyone that you love. Everyone who has loved you.

Hongjoong leaves last, and his presence above all is suffocatingly felt as he stands in front of you; calm, collected, wholly unconcerned by everything that has just taken place in front of him, and large in part, because of him. It's a last moment shared between the two of you when you finally gather yourself enough to look up at him from where you remain on your knees—through wet eyelashes and stinging red eyes—the two of you meet gazes once more. A reminder of something shared, because really, how could you ever forget?

His lips slowly thin into a line, neither a smile nor a frown, nothing more than an acknowledgement of your being there in front of him. A part of you still feels desperate to have him care for you, because the idea of it never having been real to begin with twists the knife that has long since been carved into you as a result of all of this. Please give me something, please show me that there is tenderness still.

Seconds pass that feel like a lifetime; memories of your time together with him flashing before your eyes like a film reel, someone else's life that you're watching, not your own. Smiles, kisses, touches, words; except it felt so real in the moment, how could it not have been real.

Hongjoong moves from place slightly, stills for another instant as he looks at you—as if thinking about what it is that he wants to do from here on out. You don't know what to expect from him now, because in such a short time you've come to find out that you have never really known him to begin with. A stranger to you, perhaps only now having just met for the first time today.

You watch him carefully, the way a single corner of his lip curves upwards in such a slight way that you think him attempting to fight it back, but unable to. Too pleased with himself, pleased with what he has done. 

Victorious in outcome.

When he takes his leave in silence, you're left with nothing else. Hongjoong never offers you any sympathy, nor consolation in the aftermath of a disaster that he had very much been a part of. 

Nor does he bother to thank you for everything graciously given to him.

"Can you bring me that box of files, please?"

With the change in weather and the months quickly passing by around the Aurelia Theater, new students come through the halls and make their way in and out of the empty rooms—picking and choosing their favorites, where they wish to spend the most of their time working on their crafts and busying their hands. A man is heart shouting down the way—something about how someone shouldn't be standing on one of the chairs—but you have enough to worry about on your plate, and thankfully, you have help with that.

Said box in hand, Seonghwa pulls around to the side of your desk, plops it on the floor in front of him and straightens himself back up into a standing position, along with feigning the pain of a strained muscle for dramatic effect.

You roll your eyes, seating yourself in your chair and attempting to sort through the immense amount of papers strewn about before you. "You know, you would think by now I'd get all of this shit settled before the new students and staff made their way in for the new semester."

"One would think that, yes. Far from your first rodeo."

"Thanks for coming to help out, by the way. I'll buy dinner tonight, we can go to that expensive place that you like that also sucks."

Seonghwa scoffs. "It doesn't suck, you just don't have a very refined palate. I accept your offer though."

Flicking corners of papers still in search of a particular contract, you rustle through numerous ones and in the flurry of it all, a pen flies from the edge of your desk and onto the floor just beside your feet. You stare at it lying there for far too long—too long for Seonghwa who you're sure wonders what sort of significance this particular item has to you—the sort of thing you can't divulge to him, the sort of thing that is no longer spoken about. Forgotten to the times. Cast out and never to be acknowledged again for as long as the both of you shall live.

You bend down and pick it up, open the desk drawer and shove it inside without a word. Looking up, your eyes meet Seonghwa's somewhat concerned ones, but you take comfort in knowing that he won't dare ask.

"What time should we go?" Changing the subject despite there not really even being one before.

You shrug. "I'm free after four, have to make the rounds with the new students and faculty, sign some more paperwork and then we can meet if you have somewhere to be."

On days like this everything almost feels normal. There are always subtle reminders of the upheaval of your life not long ago, but you're thankful for the forgiveness of your best friend—a man who has always had your back, and even when you're not even really deserving of it. 

It doesn't feel as empty as it would otherwise have to, as it probably should. The emptiness resides in your chest, where it feels as though your heart once sat; playing reckless games with people, and never anticipating having met your match.

Sometimes you see him on television, in magazines. You're welcome, you think to yourself as you pass. In those moments, the emptiness on your ring finger sits that much heavier than all of the others.

Equivalent exchange—you made him, and he destroyed you.

a/n: HOI! the end of another big and dramatic story from your neighborhood longfic-infidelity-drama-angst enjoyer! it was a wild ride and i hope yall had fun hehe. some of you guys suspected parts of the ending correctly, here is your retribution! you win [hand shakes] 💗 as always, ask box is open and i look forward to hearing from you :)

[yarrayora]

I actually really love ur interpretation of farcille where falin and marcille have a... Difficult time together. Because it annoys me when people treat their relationship like the most important one and also like they're completely perfect for each other. Because they're not! The bath scene itself is an example of how they're not completely on the same page yet. Marcille treats Falin like a precious toy to look over, even when she's clearly uncomfortable, and when Falin starts asking questions (because she knows something is up), Marcille shuts it down. Marcille doesn't treat Falin as an equal. Also the bits in the daydream hour where it implies Marcille wants Falin to dress a certain way or cut her hair a certain way because it looks good to Marcille.

Not to say that Marcille is evil, or even completely in the wrong. I think Falin has a bit of a bad trait where she doesn't talk about things that upset the ones she loves. There was an extra comic, if I remember correctly, from Falin and Marcille's school days, about Falin bringing food to Marcille's room and Marcille would just be like "??? What???" And eventually Falin just stops going to Marcille's room. But then later Laois explains that Falin was trying to get Marcille to eat with her, but eventually gave up without speaking about it at all. Or how she did drop the topic of her resurrection even though she knew something was wrong and deserved to know what was going on. And while she was under the influence of the dungeons magic, it's pretty in character of her to go hungry and not say anything because someone she loved (Thistle in that moment) wanted her food.

And that's not even getting into how many fans erase how important Laois is to BOTH of them and how much he loves them as well. (Marcille was definitely not his biggest fan in the beginning, but I think you could make the argument that by the end, she cherishes him almost, if not just as, much as she cherishes Falin. Not even in a shippy way)

Anyway. All this to say, I love farcille but they're not a perfect couple right now. I actually really like that ending you imagined a while ago where they never put a label on things and falin dies old and happy but Marcille keeps thinking of "what could have been". I think that's really the only way their relationship can end (unless they COMMUNICATE in the case of Falin and LISTEN in the case of Marcille)

here's the scene you mentioned!

i think theres a scene in a different chapter showing more of this but i cant remember lol so im not sure if falin stopped or not. but considering how falin grew up as a conveniently good kid for her parents i think it's in-character for her to give up in fear of bothering marcille

which is in line with chimera falin's attitude (WHICH IS SO COOL THAT HER CORE AS A PERSON REMAINS UNCHANGED DESPITE THE DUNGEON'S INFLUENCE)

and yes i think a lot about how laios is the reason they even go on the dangerous quest to save falin! he is what convinced marcille and chilchuck it's not too late for her! because they know hes knowledgeable about monsters, so if he thinks they can still save her then it must be possible! on the contrary, as shown by the official roleswap comic where falin and laios swapped places, she couldn't convince the party, not even marcille, to go save laios with her. further showing that laios is the person they trust as their leader

also regarding marcille and laios i think people sometimes forget that despite their difference branch of passions both of them are hungry for knowledge

hell, she might be the only one in the party beside laios who is in it for the sake of knowledge instead of glory and wealth (toshiro is in it to prove himself as a warrior, namari having to make up for her father's misdeed, chilchuck for the betterment of his people, and falin who is still at the stage of following laios and marcille's whims)

honestly i think it's inevitable for The Most Popular Ship to be sandpapered. in the end, shipping is about having fun with barbie dolls that have no agency to protest about how theyre being treated and we the shippers are gods ruling over fanon

but im also. kinda petty about it lol.

[unboundndd]

Omg finally someone who is willing to write for kayn 😭😭😭 I have been starved FOR AGES i'm telling you. For the past months or so all I've been thinking abt is how Kayn would develop a relationship with a reader who's from the kinkou (a whole enemies to lovers if you will). Just some general headcanons about the relationship tysm ❤️😭😭 can't wait to see more of your writing!

hELLO hello!! I swear uni has been keeping me from writing, i had no energy but i am a bit more free for now~ i’ve been starving for Kayn content too so let’s get started!!!

//tag: enemies to lovers, kayn has no idea what emotions are

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· If anybody were to ask Kayn what he thinks about you they would be met with silence. It’s normal for him as he isn’t too keen on talking about topics like this and he finds the question a bit obvious: you’re Kinkou, he’s not. You’re trying to bring back the balance that Ionia has lost back alongside Shen, which means you’re actively trying to stop him from reaching his goals and true potential.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· If only this was what he truly thought, in fact his feelings towards you are much more complex. It’s not a mere matter of blindly hating you because of the group you’re affiliated with, it has to do with the fact that you seem to periodically appear where he is and always try to obstacle him. Despite that he has never felt the instinct to kill you, as if his brain doesn’t completely think of you as an useless nuisance.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· The fact is that you challenge him and motivate him to get better, fighting against you doesn't trigger the same deeply engrained reflexes he'd have when killing any other Kinkou alcyote or Noxian soldier. Every encounter with you keeps him alert, reminds him of the high he gets when conquering something that isn't handed to him that easily and despite the two of you being on the opposing sides of such a difficult conflict you can't help but look for one another.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Accepting that you might have a crush on the man you're supposed to hate is hard, more than any normal crush. Apart from wondering if you're misinterpreting his actions like when he spared you after one of your missions went wrong or the time he patched you up as you hid from Noxian soldiers who were passing by, you also needed to conceal your feelings. If Kayn was simply toying with you he could use the feelings you grew against you, maybe this was just a cold manipulation technique to encourage you to lower your guard or maybe he couldn't feel any love at all.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· That said you still were unable to stop staring at him during another one of your run-ins, you were both alone and your eyes would keep wandering to his lips that were perpetually graced by a confident smirk. You wanted to slap him, kiss him, anything to make him shut up and stop taunting you. It was getting to your head and soon enough you found yourself on the floor, pinned against him and with Rhaast's blade dangerously close to your neck.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· If Rhaast's eye wasn't creepily staring at you, then at kayn and then back to you it would have been better. Maybe even enjoyable as the weight of his entire body was crushing your hips and legs, his expression wasn't revealing anything of his intentions so you had no idea if he was going to let you go or if he was done with playing with you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· The fact that Kayn suddenly kissed you was so far away from your possible predictions that you thought you were already dead and this was just your brain conjuring up a happy scenario to aid you in passing into the spirit realm. He wasn't exactly doing a great job, teeth clanking against yours and clumsily trying to understand what exactly he needed to do, only when you kissed him back with the same fervor did he start to finally understand what he needed to do.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· "This is what you wanted, didn't you? Get. Out! Out of my head. It's- You're the one who's been distracting me!"

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You were starting to feel like maybe there was a chance your feelings were reciprocated, Kayn wasn't looking like his usual confident self once he finally had to part from your lips. He was confused and angry at the fact that in the end you managed to beat him by thanks to your wit and your personality.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Ever since that day you and Kayn have been meeting in secret, ignoring the loyality you were both supposed to have for your respective factions. You never have as much time together as you wish and you spend your days either sparring or lazily laying in each other's arms, it mostly depends on how Kayn is feeling.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You're quite amused when Kayn admits to you that he's never had any kind of relationship, don't tease him for it though, not if you want him to deprive you of all of the affection you crave for the sake of sweet revenge. He loves to hear you beg for him to just kiss you or when you ask for a hug, the fact that he's the only one who will ever see you like this makes him feel very proud of himself.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You also find out that Rhaast has been the one guiding Kayn and telling him what people in a relationship do, he basically has a corrupted, cruel but extremely experienced wingman by his side.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Sometimes you have to sneak in/out from each other's rooms when it's late at night and even though you've both been training hard to be stealthy it's still not perfect. Shen knows, and Zed does too and both have decided not to interfere for the time being. Who knows, perhaps something interesting will come out of your new relationship.

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

hi angel! i see your requests are open and if you’re up for it, i’d love to request an older!sinclair sister w our lover boy eddie? :) some angst for character development LOL and fluff? ♥️♥️♥️ thank u pookie

Mistakes were made but atleast we fixed them, sort of…

Eddie Munson x Fem!OlderSinclaire reader

[a/n] sorry this took longer than I’d hoped, I really tried to make it a balance between angst and fluff so I hope I did your request justice! Feel free to send more asks in the future, I’ve never written for Sinclair reader before this so it was definitely new to me, but I had fun! <3

Valen-Cries masterlist available here!

Request a Valen-Cries fic here!

Eddie had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, practically joined at the hip, so much so that it was uncommon to see you apart, until recently. With the cracks of your steadily crumbling friendship beginning to show, questions naturally arose from both your parents and peers. 

What you refused to tell anyone was the real reason behind this break, constantly spewing excuse after excuse when anyone broached the topic. It was unlikely anyone would hear what actually went down, with Eddie probably far too embarrassed to explain that you, his best friend was in love with him, and you mortified for even thinking he could feel the same.

In fact just thinking about it months later, your cheeks still burned with a mixture of hurt and rage, picturing the night you’d all but spilled your guts while he sat there half heartedly shrugging at your confession like you meant nothing to him at all. 

Poor Lucas had attempted to console you but was met with a cold pillow to the face the moment he entered your bedroom, quickly deciding it wasn’t worth possibly losing his head over some ‘girl drama’, or so he thought. However, it was also just your luck that the following morning he’d not only told Mike and Dustin but the entire Hellfire group, Eddie included.

For a while after the whole debacle you’d tried to remain just best friends with Eddie, truly believing that if he wasn’t interested in you romantically you could still salvage the friendship although, that proved more difficult than ever.

Which led you to now where you were stuck between the awkward and depressing limbo of wanting more but trying desperately to get over you know who, in an effort to go back to how it was before, if that was even possible. 

Poking around at the food in front of you as your family chatted happily about their day, zoning in and out of conversation had become the new norm. The numbness taking over once more until Lucas had let it slip that Eddie had a date with none other than Chrissy Cunningham, Hawkin’s princess. 

Of course he did, you’d thought. The bitterness beginning to take over as you thought of the numerous reasons Eddie would never be attracted to you and how you’d ruined everything. Excusing yourself from the table and going straight to bed, not that you’d be getting any sleep.

If only you’d kept your stupid mouth shut.

You weren’t sure how long had passed until the faint knock of the door echoed through the room, followed by the creak of the worn down door. “Hey y/n, I was thinking we could have a spa night this weekend if you’re up for it? You know how mom used to do when we were younger?” Erica shifted somewhat nervously. It was clear she didn’t want to anger you, with your mood changing faster than the wether nowadays, likely confused how the once close family dynamic had become to distant. 

Guilt weighed heavy against your chest, the urge to decline and simply wallow, outweighing a possibly fun and equally horrendous sister night. Desperate to think of an excuse but deciding to agree anyway for her sake. It wasn’t like you had anything planned either way, with Lucas and your parents going on date. 

The bonus was she might actually succeed with killing you this time, if her cooking was the still as you remembered.

—- 

Eddie knew it was wrong as soon as the thought entered his head, he just couldn’t understand how you could tolerate let alone be in love with him. Hell he’d be lying if he tried to deny the feelings he felt, yet he still choose to play the fool. He hadn’t anticipated the fallout would be quite this bad, with you avoiding him for the most part or pretending for his sake the confession was in the past and to be forgotten, and his conflicted feelings making him temperamental, for lack of a better word he well and truly was fucked.

How was he supposed to rely on you to protect his heart if he couldn’t do the same for you? So used to being the other person in any given situation, this was all new. Hell he’d have studied for this moment if it meant he’d have an answer with how to move forward, alas that wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Trudging up to the van like usual unaware that someone was following him until the crinkle of a snack wrapper sounded from behind, stopping him in his tracks.

 “Sinclair I know you’re there” Eddie had called before turning around to meet the sheepish grin on Lucas’ face.

“How did you know it was me?” The boy had sighed, munching away on his favourite snack bar which coincidentally was also yours. 

“Well apart from the obnoxiously loud noise you made opening that.” He’d pointed at the half eaten food “I also happen to know there y/n’s favourite and they’re the most annoying thing ever, especially when trying to plan a campaign.”

“Well anyway I need you to come to my house tomorrow evening.” Ignoring Eddie and continuing “and before you ask she’s not going to be home so don’t worry about that, she’s got a date.” He trailed off, watching something in the distance

“I wasn’t worried but okay…” Eddie muttered watching as Lucas suddenly ran off shouting at what he assumed to be the others to wait up for him

—-

Getting into your pyjamas and heading downstairs to see what chaos Erica was cooking up, literally, you hadn’t expected to be met with the person you’d been trying to forget, or at least just for one evening. 

“What are you doing here?” Looking around the otherwise empty kitchen confused “you’re supposed to be on a date?” You questioned

“No you’re supposed to be on a date.” Eddie echoed back as the sound of chairs dragging against the hardwood floor grew closer. 

“Neither of you are on a date but you are locked in, so sort whatever it is going on between you out now!” Your younger siblings shouted, clearly having planned tonight.

“By the way I know you both love each other so just admit it already.” Erica added, earning a thump before it grew quiet again. 

Unsure of how to comprehend her words, you simply pulled up a chair and sat down. You definitely weren’t going to start the conversation, hurt enough over the first time you’d talked argued about ‘this’.

“Look I’m just going to get straight to the point. I lied.” Eddie started, pulling up a chair near you and sitting “I do love-” the hesitation was enough to send you reeling, the urge to simply run, scratching away at your insides. 

“Fuck” he was pacing now “I’ve never said these words to anyone but I love you.” Breathing out without hesitation this time. “I know I’ve been shit at showing it and I don’t expect you to forgive me for lying and hurting you but when I heard you were going on a date something changed.” Now still and silent once again as he got down and looked at you for real this time.

“I lied because I thought you could do better than me. I mean I’m still in high school, barley passing and you’re in college with your whole life ahead of you. It wouldn’t be fair for me to hold you back, you know that.” 

“Eddie what the hell?!” You weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or cry at how dense he could be, you’d probably end up doing both “I don’t care about that shit, we’ve been friends for years and you didn’t think to at least talk to me about this?”

“You know I love you and you let me think you were basically disgusted at me?” Pausing as you pondered on your next words. “Don’t answer that.” 

Where words failed, actions came into hand. Leaning over and pressing your lips against his, savouring the faint taste of mint and tobacco that lingered, while cupping his cheeks between your hands. Now that you’d started you weren’t sure you could stop, understanding now what it means to be intoxicated by someone. 

Gasping for breath between kisses and hands grabbing at each other while the room grew hotter until you were startled by a bang.

“Hey! We’re still here you know.” Lucas shouted “also I’m still mad that you like him” It was now Erica’s turn to slap him playfully, prompting a spat between the two over who’d genius plan this was. Honestly you couldn’t care less now that you had Eddie back.

Little did you know that it was thanks to both Lucas and Erica meddling for this Valentine’s miracle. Although, that was an argument for another day. Erica insisting she knew was the head of operation Valentines.

[theheraldsrest]

how do you think the companions would react to a mute or deaf inquisitor? like one who communicates through sign language?

“Companions react to Mute/Deaf Inquisitor”

I try to do my research for the most part when I do these posts. So if I do get something wrong, please let me know! I enjoy getting the chance to understand topics further and getting to hear from you guys! And thank you anon!

-Lord Lex

Cullen

-One of the many who struggle with communication and now he’s learning that you can communicate through your hands. He’s a little worried about you being on the battlefield but he’ll try not to mother you. He knows the others have your back and, hey, you’ve been fighting before you were even part of the Inquisition so that reassures him. He struggles to learn sign-language but instead, if the Inquisitor is deaf, will communicate through simply passing along some paper. Same with if deaf but he’ll mostly speak to you and rely on a written response.

Josephine

-Josey is an ambassador for the Inquisition, of course she’s going to know a few languages. If she doesn’t, she usually tries to learn them as soon as possible. Like Cullen, she’ll be worried about you when in the field, but outside of it she finds no problems. She’ll go with you wherever when in Haven/Skyhold, translating for people or for you. Anyone who tries to disresepct you behind your back will get a stern talking to.

Leliana

-She always did say the best spy was one who didn’t speak. Maybe not so surprisingly she knows several forms of sign language for different languages and will make sure on which ones to use for you. If a message needs to be said, she’ll say it for you. Though, sometimes, she’ll watch as people make fools of themselves either by talking rudely to you when your deaf or asking why you aren’t responding when mute. Proceeds to introduce you as the Inquisitor and that you’re deaf/mute. 

Vivienne

-Not so surprised. Is actually another one who stays by your side, either translating or shutting down anyone who so happens to make a comment about you. Tries to stay where you can see her, either her hands or mouth being visible for you. Sometimes when translating for you, she’ll add in her own comment but makes sure people know that it’s her opinion and not yours. “The Inquisitor bids you welcome. I, on the other hand, hope your stay is very short.”

Varric

-Varric finds it pretty interesting, having met a few people in his travels who couldn’t speak or hear. Wasn’t able to pick up on sign language but he won’t try to exclude you because he doesn’t know what you’re saying. He’ll try any methods of talking with you or getting to know what you’re saying, including through drawings. He’s not the best artist but you both find it such a goofy way of communicating. Makes many people question how ya’ll even know what either of you are saying, especially when you’re both nodding sagely over a drawing of a nug with a crown.

Cole

-He knows you’re speaking, but the words aren’t coming out. Right for you, but not right for others. Cole is very confused on why no one else can hear you until he realises they can’t hear the ghost of your words. Don’t rely too much on him to translate, we all know his speech patterns. Especially when he does translate for you, he’ll either say everything on your mind or too little of what you want to say. But it is pretty funny when he tries to do a voice for you. Most specificly when you’re trying to act intimidating and he just makes his voice rough and tough. He’s trying his best.

Solas

-He finds no problem with it. Might find it slightly difficult when trying to translate certain elven words, especially if the Inquisitor doesn’t know elven. but that won’t stop him. Solas will try to find a way to describe it or use appropriate wording to get his point across or to explain certain words. He’s very patient with you and will even ask you to teach him a few signs so that it’s easier for you. Even tries to keep an eye on your hands if you’re mute so that he can see when you wish to speak.

Cassandra

-The one who gets frustrated the most over it. She’s trying, she really is. She does know some sign language, but only some. She’ll get words wrong or mistranslate sometimes. But even worse when she forgets because she’ll go on long tangents or going over plans and will look at you for input and it just hits her. Has to get you paper and a quill to write out responses or even she’ll write out her whole thing. Cass isn’t frustrated with you, she’s frustrated with trying to remember these things as well as sign language.

The Iron Bull

-He knows a few words and phrases but he also teaches you a few of his own. He works around it, makes sure you know it’s not a hinderance. Pretty impressed with how you power through, becoming a leader and, because of you, most of Skyhold actually knows a bit of sign-language. Unlike the others, though, if someone asks what you’re saying, he’s going to tell them either to guess or that it’s time for them to learn a new language. Bull’s only messing with people but if you ask him to stop he will. (Fun fact: Krem taught him sign language. Krem was a little excited to speak with you when he saw you using it.) Speaking of Krem, you know how he sits to Bull’s blind side? Bull will do the same for you except being your ears if deaf or being your voice if mute.

Dorian

-Genuinely one of the most curious of your group. Dorian’ll sit down with you for hours just to learn, eventually being able to have conversations with you in more easier terms. He’ll still talk (a lot) but now it’s accompanied by him moving his hands, either to help you or to just practice. He also enjoys how private it can be, not having to worry about listening ears or unwanted company. He tries to help as much as you’ll let him, either deaf or mute and will interpret when needed. Also uses it to shit talk but only around you or those in your group. Josephine cuaght him once and gave him a talking because one of the nobles actually knew sign language.

Sera

-It’s not her type of sign language. Which is either signs like moving forward or a certain finger. More frustrated than Cassandra sometimes but also has fun with it. Might be irritating with certain people as she tries to guess what you’re saying, going through charades to get your point across or even hers. She’s even tried to create her own and teach it to you. Most of the time it’s just words that already exist but smashed together like shitbiscuit. She’ll try testing things with you, like if your senses are heightened due to one of them being gone. Specificlly by throwing apples at you. Might want to work on your reflexes.

Blackwall

-He’s trying, I promise. He’s able to guess but it does little when you’re trying to get whole phrases or sentences out. It’ll take Blackwall a second to remember what that certain hand movement means but he’ll get there. Same as Bull where he’ll act as your ears but not your voice. Does not want to be responsible for that or equivalate his voice as yours. His main answer is “You give the orders, I follow them.” Sometimes will just walk up to you saying he’s got this and then try to sign to you and ask if he did it correctly. It’s a 50/50 chance he did.