#i love romcoms it’s truly who i am

[likesunsetorange]

Tags!!!

Rivals to Lovers, but the rivalry only exists in one person’s mind, premarital handholding, denial is not just a river in Egypt, attempts at seduction

fake fic ask game

pairing: eremika

(i always do my full fic summaries like this so let’s do the full version rather than one line version to give the ✨full✨ effect or else it wouldn’t make much sense lmao) summary:

“‘Below are the pairings for your final capstone projects…” Mikasa reads aloud. “‘You’ll have the remaining three months of the semester to complete this project, and it counts for sixty percent of your final grade, as well as a final graduation requirement.’”

Her fingers immediately scroll down, searching for her name. “Ackerman… Ackerman..” She mutters, until she finds her name printed in bold at the very bottom beside the words ‘Group 32’, putting her at ease. Her mind fills with thoughts of graduation, her post grad Europe trip that’s just months away, knowing four years of hard work are about to be complete with this final project—she can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But that feeling quickly dissipates when she sees the name printed beside her, Eren Jaeger, and anger begins coursing through her, the universe seemingly deciding to punish her for reasons she doesn’t know why.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

or

mikasa gets paired to work her capstone with (who she believes to be) her academic rival & her biggest pain in the ass

[nebulaafterdark]

A Tale Of Two Dragons

Summary: After suffering a head injury, Princess Y/N forgets the past two years of her life, including her marriage to Aegon. Who will do anything to win her back.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, Smut, Cheesy, Medieval Romcom

Y/N wakes terribly hot, her head throbs and there is something wrapped round her waist. She peels open her eyes…an arm. She flicks it away.

“What is the matter, my dearest love?” A voice grumbles, from behind her. “The maester says you should remain abed for several days.

“Why?” The word is past her lips before she can stop it.

“You hit your head.”

Y/N reaches up toward her throbbing temple, scraping against the forming scab beneath the bandage. Her fingers come away wet.

“You mustn’t touch,” Aegon chides, “let me see.”

Aegon?

Y/N screams at the top of her lungs, rolling onto the floor.

“What is the matter?” Aegon peers over the edge of the mattress. “Does your head hurt?” He springs from the bed, grabbing a cup off the bedside table. “Here, milk of the poppy.” He attempts to bring the chalice to her lips.

Y/N slaps his hand away, the glass shattering over the floor. “Surely poison.”

“What?” Aegon breathes. “Why in the seven hells would it be poison, my heart?”

“Do not call me that.” Y/N snaps, feeling almost sorry for it as his face falls.

“Look at me,” he crouches down to her, cowering in the corner. “What’s happened?”

“I should be asking you! Why are you being kind to me? Why are you sleeping in my bed? Plotting to kill me?”

“I don’t want to kill you.” He huffs a laugh. Back are the sad, crestfallen eyes.

Y/N forces down the urge to punch him. “Why were you in my bed?”

“To be clear,” Aegon says, motioning behind him, “this is my bedchamber.”

Y/N searches the space behind him, he speaks true. This is not her room. “Why would I be in your bedchamber?”

Aegon’s upper lip twitches, “because you are my wife.”

Y/N laughs, “I am your wife.”

Aegon joins in, anxiously.

“You jest.” She wags a finger at him, “that is the Aegon I know. You have outdone yourself this time.”

Aegon’s eyes search hers for a moment more before he hollers, “guards!”

The doors fly open, “your grace?”

“We must have the grand maester.”

Y/N’s eyes track his movements. Pacing and pacing until the maester appears.

“Is your head troubling you, your grace?” He kneels before her. “I left you with milk of the poppy.”

“She needs more.” Aegon insists.

“She can have no more until the morrow.”

“She did not drink it.” Aegon shouts, “she tossed it away because she thought it poisoned.”

“I would never harm you, your grace. Surely you know that.” The maester addresses the princess directly.

“Not you, me.” Aegon throws up a hand. “She does not know who I am.”

“I know who you are and I do not like you.” Y/N argues.

“That is worse.” Aegon laments, “she does not remember our marriage or our-”

“Your grace,” the maester stops him. “Your lady wife has suffered an injury. It is best not to push the recollection of years past.”

“She will heal then?”

“I cannot say, the mind is unpredictable.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at the maester, “am I truly married to Aegon?”

“Yes, princess. For some two years now.”

“Nearly three,” Aegon corrects him, with a hand to his head.

Y/N’s breathing picks up, unable to calm herself.

“Princess, you must breathe slowly now.”

“I want my mother,” Y/N chokes out.

“I will get your mother,” Aegon offers, “just breathe.”

His command is foreign to her. That he would care. The maester fusses about her as they wait. “All is well, your grace, all is well.”

“I may faint.” She warns.

The maester begins fanning her with his hands.

Rhaenyra appears moments later, with Aegon hot on her heels. “What’s happened, my darling?”

“Mother,” Y/N reaches for her, sobbing against her shoulder.

“Hush now.” Rhaenyra cradles the back of her head, smoothing down her hair.

“I do not know how such a thing could h-happen.”

“What?” Rhaenyra begins swaying her like a babe.

“I woke up beside my sworn enemy, claiming to be my husband.” Y/N tells her, “and worst of all, everyone insists that it’s true. Am I truly married?”

“Yes.”

“To Aegon.”

“Yes.”

“And I am happy about it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Rhaenyra smiles. “You are quite taken with him.”

“To what degree is he hung?” Y/N scoffs. He must be-

Rhaenyra throws her head back with laughter, “I would not know, sweet girl.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “he speaks true then?”

Rhaenyra nods.

“And we are in…” Y/N forces out the word, “love?”

“Very much so.”

Without warning, the princess faints in her mother’s arms.

————————————————————————

“And though all the realm wished for the princess to deliver a son, she blessed the prince with two daughters.”

Y/N comes to, blinking up at the ceiling. Pleased to find that she is in her own bed this time. She nearly finds herself comforted by the voice beside her, before looking over to realize it is Aegon. Seated in the arm chair with a brown leather book in his lap. She sits up, staring him down.

“Don’t,” he slowly closes the book, holding up both hands, “don’t scream.”

“What do you want?” Y/N groans. “I’ve already told you I don’t remember.”

“I’d like to court you.” His lips twitch, nervously.

“Really?” She huffs a laugh. “You, Aegon Targaryen, would rather court me than go find another well suited lady, of high status, to marry you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me?”

“Very much so.”

“More than anyone else?”

Aegon twists his wedding band around his finger. “Yes, more than anyone.”

“Well…what would we do together?” She crosses both arms over her chest, “I can’t imagine we have much in common.”

“Talk, stroll the gardens, fly together on dragon back, whatever you’d like.”

“You told me this morning, I am to remain abed for several days.”

“That’s why I’ve brought this,” he waves the book at her, “thought it might keep you occupied. That or I could dance for you.”

“How well do you dance?”

“Not very,” Aegon admits, “that’s what makes it entertaining.”

Y/N leans up, trying to catch a glimpse of the book’s title. “What book is that?”

“A tale of two dragons.” Aegon pulls it away, “do you want to hear the story or not?”

“I suppose,” Y/N sighs, sinking back into the pillows. “I’ve nothing better to do.”

————————————————————————

For four days he reads to her from that silly book. With each day that passes Y/N finds herself more invested.

“But if a son is expected of the prince, why does he not want for a son?”

Aegon smiles as he closes the book. “That’s all for today, you must rest.”

“I am not tired,” Y/N argues.

“Your eyes tell a different story.”

“Truly, I’m not tired.” She tells him, toying with her marriage ring. “My head hurts is all.”

“Might I try something?”

Y/N scowls, reluctantly closing the distance between them.

His hands cup her face, moving up to her throbbing skull, running his fingertips over her scalp.

It feels nice, though Y/N will never admit it.

“It will help if you stop making such sour faces, Y/N.” Aegon remarks, smoothing his thumb over the furrow between her brows. “My head aches just watching you.”

“You might wear a similar expression after being dealt my hand.” It is odd, her name on his lips. As though he rarely speaks it, save for when he’s angry with her.

“Yes, how devastating it must be; doted on by the man who loves you.” Aegon muses.

“You used to call me a bastard at family gatherings.” Y/N remembers that clearly.

“I used to do a great many things I am not proud of.” Aegon admits. “But the man I am now, the man I am with you…I take great pride in.”

“It will take time, if I’m to trust you again.”

“I have time.” Aegon assures her, “though at present, there is somewhere else I need be.” He presses his lips to her forehead in parting. “Good night.”

Y/N cups his wrist, at the side of her face, for just a moment. “Good night.”

————————————————————————

On the fifth day, the grand maester allows Y/N to leave her apartments, and by the tenth day, she is cleared to fly. Being amongst the clouds always helps clear her mind, mayhaps she will recall something.

“Good morrow, your grace.” Marcello, the dragon keeper greets her.

“Good morrow,” Y/N smiles. “Might you saddle Stormborn for me?”

“At once, Princess. I’m glad you are well.”

Marcello returns a few moments later with the lilac dragon, whining as she nuzzles into Y/N’s hands.

“Issi ao daor biare naejot ūndegon issa, uēpa raqiros?” Are you not happy to see me, old friend? Has something happened between them that she’s forgotten?

Stormborn hums, nudging at Y/N with her head.

“What is the matter with her?” Y/N turns to Marcello.

The dragon keeper lowers his eyes, “she wants for Sunfyre, your grace.”

“She wants-” Y/N breaks off, clunking a fist to her head, “she wants Aegon’s dragon?”

“They are quite close these days.” The man in question says, stalking up behind her. “I heard you were flying out. I thought I might join you.” Aegon explains his presence.

“This is preposterous.” Y/N scoffs, “you mean to tell me we have become so deeply entwined that even our dragons cannot be parted?”

Aegon’s lips turn downward as his brows rise, “yes.”

“What can be done about it?”

“You loved me once, my hope is, you will love me again.” Aegon brushes past her, resting a hand on her dragon’s snout. “There’s naught to be done about it.”

To add further insult, Stormborn leans into his touch, cooing happily.

“I suppose I should pet your dragon.” It’s meant to be a threat, a means to get even.

“Go on,” Aegon encourages, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sunfyre?”

The golden boy begins to serenade her with a low melody. Y/N rests her temple against his head, glaring at Aegon. It is not the dragon’s fault.

“Your dragon understands English?”

“As does yours.” Aegon informs her, “they are highly intelligent creatures.”

“Pōnta issi mēre rūsīr īlva.” They are one with us.

Aegon smiles, “indeed.”

“Do you not speak-”

“Nyke kostagon emagon naejot…vestragon mirrī.” I can have to…say a little.

Y/N bites back a grin, “I could teach you.”

He starts to say something else, but she covers his mouth with her hand.

“Later,” she leans in, pressing a kiss to the back of her own hand. Had it not been there…it would’ve been his lips. Which means nothing, muscle memory, surely. “I’m sorry.”

He catches her wrist, bringing her hand away.“Don’t be.”

————————————————————————-

Y/N enjoys evening strolls with Aegon in the garden, but on occasion she walks alone, outside the walls, wandering near the woods.

“Wait!”

Y/N whips her head around to see Aegon charging at her, knocking her backwards before the steel trap snaps closed near their feet. Two rows of long, jagged teeth, meant to catch animals. She stares at him, in disbelief.

“They doubled the number of traps round the castle in these past years. I did not know if you’d recall.” Aegon explains, still holding her in the safety of his arms.

“You…imbecile!” Y/N returns the awkward embrace.

“Please, call me husband.” Aegon smirks.

“You could’ve been maimed.”

“Better me than you.”

Y/N groans in frustration, “quit doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Charming me.” She pulls away enough to see him.

No, not the sad eyes.

“I should like to know you better first.” Imbecile, she curses herself.

“What do you say we go back to your rooms and I will read to you?” Aegon suggests, “I’ll even bring cake.”

There it is, that tugging in her chest. “I do love cake.”

“When you were-” Aegon trails off, “there was a time all you would eat was cake.”

Y/N presses a hand to her head, “when I was what?”

“In due time, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles, sadly. “The grand maester says we mustn’t push, you’ve made great progress already.”

————————————————————————

She recalls a great many things over the next weeks. Trying and failing to teach Aegon High Valryian, eating cake with him and laughing until their sides ache. But there are a number of things she cannot recall.

“Where is it you go?” She wonders, “when you are not with me? You said,” Y/N closes her eyes until the words come to her, “you said you want always to be with me.”

Aegon’s eyes widen, “yes, I did say that. You remember?”

“Not nearly enough, just silly things.” Y/N admits, “sometimes…I think I might’ve been with child.”

Oh.

“That’s it, isn’t it? We’ve a child.”

��Two actually, daughters.”

“One after another like clockwork, then?” She arches a brow, resting a hand over her empty womb, “you’re late.”

Aegon grins, “both at once.”

“Efficient.”

“Well, we are nothing if not thorough.”

“With the way you look at me, I’m surprised there are only two children.”

“The birthing bed was not kind to you. I would love any child of ours, but I would not inflict such suffering upon you again.”

Y/N sighs, “you are so in love. I wish desperately to remember.”

“You could love me again.”

“What if it is different than what we shared? What if it does not please you as much?”

Aegon shakes his head, “then it will be different and I will be glad for it all the same.”

“Might I come with you to see them?” Y/N asks, wringing her hands.

“They should like that very much, they’ve been asking for you.”

“What are their names?”

“Dahlia and Visera.” Aegon tells her, “it might be difficult for you to tell them apart at first.”

“Dahlia is a Strong name.” Y/N whispers.

“And Visera was named for Viserys. If we would’ve had a son, we might’ve named him-”

“Laenor.” She breathes, recalling the smile on Aegon’s face as they’d discussed it, over the prominent swell of her belly. Subsequently leading his kisses to trail lower…her cheeks heats up.

“Yes,” Aegon swallows. Mayhaps he is recalling the same conversation.

The twins are playing happily on the floor, with their maids when Y/N enters the room behind Aegon.

“Papa!” They race to him, waiting to be taken into his arms.

“Hello, my darlings.” He holds one in each arm, kissing their little silver heads.

The child on the left sees Y/N first, blinking at her twice, to be sure. “Mama.”

The little girl on the right follows her gaze. “Mama!”

Y/N reaches for them out of instinct, hugging them to her as they are transferred into her arms from Aegon’s. “My girls.”

————————————————————————

Time passes, Aegon and Y/N have long since accepted she will never remember everything. What they share now is different, but wonderful, nonetheless.

Aegon and their children fill Y/N’s days with joy, though she still feels a bit guilty for the life she forgot.

She and her husband sneak out of their daughters’ rooms once they’ve found sleep. Walking back towards Y/N’s apartments with their arms linked.

Aegon bids her good night at the door, with a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Stay,” Y/N insists, turning her face enough to catch his lips.

“What are you-” Aegon smiles against her mouth.

“It hurts to look at you and not touch you.” Y/N murmurs, reeling him back in and burying her hands in his hair. “If you mean what you say, and you will be happy with me even if I am different, I want to be happy with you.”

“It pleases me to hear you say this, my darling. But are you certain?”

“I want you in my bed, always,” Y/N whispers. “Or to lie with you in yours. To wake with you each morning and spend each night at your side. Though right now there is nothing I want more than your cock in me. Is that certain enough for you?”

Aegon chuckles into her mouth, “that’ll do it.” He pushes open the door, leading her deep into her rooms, until they reach her bed chamber. He unlaces her gown with practiced hands. “Gevie.”Beautiful.

She works him out of his robes, kissing the underside of his jaw. “Gevie.”

He smirks, moving her to the bed. Positioning her sweet head against the pillows, stroking wayward hair from her face. Taking a long moment to look upon her, their gazes locked. Aegon kisses the tip of her nose. “Let us see if you remember this, shall we?”

His lips trail down her neck, across her collarbones to her breasts. Licking and suckling at the entirety of them before bringing a sensitive peak into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Y/N holds him to her.

“Mmm,” he hums, in approval as her hips buck up against his. “Anything coming to mind?”

“I’m afraid not, husband.” Y/N whines as he pulls away, “you’ll need to keep going.”

“Of course,” Aegon latches happily to the opposite nipple, flicking the first between his fingers. Lower and lower his mouth goes, swirling her navel, skating over the skin of her sex.

Y/N nearly faints as he parts her with his thumbs, exposing her pearl to his starved tongue. “Oh!” Her memory of this particular act, does it no justice.

He sighs against her, as though he’s waited the whole of his life to be in this moment with her.

She does not know how to be loved that way, or to give such love in return. But she wants to learn.

Aegon coaxes her through one peak to the next, relishing her breathless giggles as she shoves at his head.

“Enough,” she covers her face with both hands, “enough.”

Aegon chuckles, pressing a feather light kiss to her cunt before retreating, back up to her face. Caging her head between his elbows, hovering over her. “Still nothing?”

“Not a thing, perhaps if you continue.” Y/N reaches between them, taking his cock in hand and stroking, lightly.

Aegon shakes his head, “of course.”

She positions him at her entrance, feeling him slide into her with ease. As though he belongs there. Her hands find his face, stroking his cheeks, reeling him in for sweet kisses or to pant against his mouth. Committing him to memory.

“I love you,” he says, pressing kisses to her fingers, “we’re going to make new memories together, you and I.”

“I love you.” The words fall from her lips, without hesitation. “I love you.”

“I have gone too long without your touch, I will not last.” He warns.

“That’s alright.” Y/N assures him, “I’m nearly there.” Still sensitive from his tongue.

It’s all he can do to hold off until he feels her walls pulse around him, “good girl.” He groans, emptying his spend.

Y/N nuzzles her nose against his. “Aegon?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

His eyes open wide, meeting her gaze. “You remember?

Y/N nods, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. “I am so sorry, I’ve no idea how I could forget you…us, our daughters, this life together is the world to me.”

“It was not by choice.” He rests his forehead against hers. “If I ever sustain a head injury, I’ll expect you to court me in return.”

“Mayhaps I will court you now, just because.” Y/N wants nothing more than to shower him with affection. “That story you read to me was ours, how did you get it?”

“I wrote it.” Aegon tells her, “to share one day with our children and their children’s children, their children’s children after that.”

Taglist: @21-princess @ladyriverasafepace @oh-you-mean-me @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @donalesaa @cookiesnfeesh @barnes70stark

[pupkashi]

in which gojo realizes you truly see him

a/n: just a little thought i have i want to comfort him and hug him always <3 thank u to the amazing wonderful lovely @vagabond-umlaut for helping me w this fic <33 would’ve been hot garbage without u i love u xoxo <3

wordcount: 720

masterlist

Gojo Satoru had only known life through his many titles.

Gojo Satoru, head of the Gojo clan.

Gojo Satoru, holder of the Six Eyes and Limitless.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer.

satoru hated titles. he hated being known and labeled for the things that didn’t even make up who he was. no one after suguru came close to trying to get to know him.

his fellow sorcerers always too busy or intimidated, viewing him as a spectacle.

there was a sense of longing in his heart to find someone who really wanted to know him. someone to ask him all his favorites, someone to ask him what he wanted to be as a child, what his fears were, if he had a middle name, what animal he’s always wanted as a pet.

but there was never anyone who got past the surface level questions.

until he met you.

you who upon meeting him gave him a kind smile, not a clue of who he was, telling him he could sit with you in the booth of the much too crowded coffee shop.

“they really should get more chairs around here” he mumbles, looking up at you with a small grin when you laugh in agreement, glancing up from your laptop.

“seriously! half the time it’s a gamble if I’ll be able to get some work done or if I’ll have to drive back home” you chuckle, gojo smiling at your words.

you both spent some more time talking, sipping on your respective drinks and getting to know each other.

satoru found out you had no clue about Jujutsu, given by the way you’d never heard of jujutu tech or of him. he couldn’t stop himself from giving you a charming smile, scribbling his number on a napkin before saying goodbye, a smile on his face as he walked out of the coffee shop.

you who on the second date asked him what animal he thinks he could fight and win, asking him his favorite songs and if he’d ever been to a concert before.

you who on the fourth date had him giggling, confessing how much he liked you and telling you all about his life because he wants this to work out so bad and it can’t start off as a lie.

you who a week later calls him, asking him to answer truthfully when you ask him what animal he could really take in a fight, laughing when he answers with ‘at least a cow’ his lips curling upwards at the sound.

he’s laying on the couch with you, your hands lost in his hair as the movie plays in the background softly, your voice is quiet as you speak up.

“do you have a middle name?” the question is simple, some might think it silly. but to satoru it’s like his whole world is flipped upside down.

because here he is, in your warm and homey apartment that’s nothing like his cold larger one, with you, who brings him all the love and joy he could’ve ever imagined. he’s looking at you with glimmering eyes, heart stuttering at the sight of you in his shirt that you’d stolen with a smile.

it’s with that question that he’s realizing he’s finally found someone who really wants to know him. who doesn’t care for his power or status, but cares for his terrible jokes and interests.

“toru?” you asked, pulling him out of his daze and back to reality.

“sorry” he smiles sheepishly before shaking his head ‘no,’ a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.

satoru finally finds himself with titles that mean something to him. titles that he cherishes and holds close to his heart.

Gojo Satoru, who eats anything and everything that was sweet, claiming they’re no match for the sweet taste of your lips.

Gojo Satoru, who had an insane secret obsession with romcoms. an obsession you were sure was just to get you to cuddle him until you found him up at 3 am watching a terrible hallmark movie all on his own.

Gojo Satoru, who couldn’t stand when you were mad at him, going to drastic measures for you to forgive him.

Gojo Satoru, who considered himself lucky enough to hold the title of your boyfriend, your confidant and your favorite sorcerer.

[violestars]

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to best friends to nothing au, where rejecting your confession is worth more than the pain of infecting your perfect image with his sinful existence.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: not proof read, !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: yandere-ish?,maybe ooc, mention of religion, implied homophobia, angst no comfort, just depressing.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2

Your childhood friend is a rather confusing fellow, to the point where one would think his significant other, if he ever has one, is the type to do riddles for fun. You also love riddles but moreover, you love him. Can anyone blame you? You were consumed by these feelings in your undeveloped mind. Seven was the age you fell for Sunday, for the charming boy that is your childhood friend. Maybe it was just some puppy love between two foolish kids but no one can explain the bubbling excitement in your stomach whenever a barely visible pout was drawn on his face, whenever he uses sugar coated words to kindly ask others to leave you two alone or how his clinginess to you was shown so slyly. You were an equal to Sunday and it has left a sweet taste on your tongue till this day.

As you grow older, your mind started to question this fondness for him. You were taught love doesn't need any explanation but you aren't dumb, there are always reasons behind everything. Even the unknown comfort, warmness one could find in another is also a reason. You knew that because you have experienced it with Sunday but that wasn't your concern, for now at least. Deep down you knew this love for the other male wasn't merely a mystery, your relationship did not belong in those cheap romcoms you two would binge on a sunday night. Was it more evident on the day you went crying to him about your religious mother? Was it because of the warm hands that traced your cheeks, causing you to lean into such softness as he teased you with a coo? How you wished he could repeat his supposedly sin against his perfectionist family's belief was the attraction to the same gender, how the boyish smirk once he admitted how good rebellion feels.

School isn't your strongest suit and you beat yourself up for that, it also didn't help knowing your insecurity enabled the hatred from others. From family to friends, even strangers, their greatest gift to you was just pitiful stares. Sunday was different though, the soft smile that never fails to comfort you, the warm embrace of the only friend you can lean on, he was truly a breath of fresh air throughout suffocating days of school. The only subject you were good at is literature but the skills you've gained failed to form a clear answer to why your best friend has never doubted you. Asking him yourself only made the progress more complicated for both your mind and heart, as he flicked your head and told you about how much he worried more about your efforts than some silly printed texts.

“Your mind is built from poetry, not numbers, my little train-wreck.” You remembered his soothing voice right beside your ear, ignoring his ways with words and how it shaded your tear-stained canvas a light red, you let out a weak chuckle to lighten the mood.

“And yours is built of riddles. I'm not stable enough to solve one right now, Sun.” Your lighthearted response only brought him to laughter, a smile now placed onto your face as you silently hoped he would drop whatever sentimental words he just thought of since it was already as awkward as it could be. Who in their right mind would ask their best friend to climb through the bedroom window just because regrets were hitting too hard at 3 am? The guy has a controlling family for god's sake.

“You let people treat you so poorly just because of a subject, or it is everything about you throws them off. Why, though? You might think you're weird but I feel like you're just performing. A spectacular show that doesn't meet its audience, so desperately wants to be heard.”

As you thought you couldn’t drown yourself in thoughts of him further, this only deepened it. How you wondered if he actually has a third eye, silently guilding your thoughts to their respective docks. In your mind, he is the epitome of elegance, sometimes you wonder if the word is made specifically for him. Sunday is just perfect, while in one way he was expected to be due to being the adopted son of such a high status family, you felt like he doesn't even have to try. He handled stressful situations with ease, he joked it's you who taught him so with your antics. You two are the polar opposite, yet it felt like two puzzle pieces finding each other, different notes that falls in tune. You wondered how he tolerated everything throughout the years, not that you were complaining, it was just your anxiety often questions the authenticity of this friendship but as his hand cradled your face, the usual smile reserved for only you entered the view, you knew the dreams about him were real because Sunday adores you.

Unfortunately, your dreams crashed. You mentally cursed him for ruining everything, but it was not his fault he couldn't reciprocate those feelings, it was not his fault he is destined for greatness and you are the loser that existed. You knew you were being petty but it hurt how everything turned out to be a cacophony in disguise, how you two favored the full moon that night like the way you favored each other. Well, the way you favored him. Sunday wouldn't know all these shameful thoughts, you only nodded at his kind refusal with choked breaths after all. His frown only deepened once he noticed how tears sharp as the finest blade threatened to fall from your eyes and slice through his heart, but he didn't say anything. It hurts that your feelings were treated like a slipped word, a dumb accident, by both you and mostly him.

He knew you're worried, he was trained to be attentive to every change to his surroundings yet here he was, hands in a tight grip like how his thoughts were tied together in a messy knot. Sunday has been avoiding you, not right after the night of your confession though, he wasn't that cruel but he was evil enough to do it after reassuring you, hoping you would not throw away such unshakable friendship. Reason was, Sunday didn't know why he couldn't accept your love, he should have trust in every card he played, that was what they taught him.

It just tasted bitter. He isn't a saint, he hoped you also knew that, his mouth is filled with lies and his existence needs to be soaked in soap. In other words, Sunday is a freak of nature. Him and his sister were adopted to a rich family after the passing of their parents. Sadly enough, he still felt like nobody's son, his every step reminds him of walking on fragile ice under the threatening gaze of his so-called guardians but he still walks anyways. His sister, Robin, has her own dreams to fulfill and no one will dared to rewritte her role into another plaything for the Gods. That's why Sunday will carry all the burdens, the responsibility that will never be put onto Robin's freely spread wings and he works hard to keep it that way.

Sunday lived in this facade that is made of others' desires, he was a trapped bird that pretends to be an eagle, he felt like the strongest piece but never the mastermind. Unlike him, his darling was the salvation humanity carved for all their miserable life, you were the living proof that the lord heard his songs. You slowly metamorphosed into his only God though, Sunday believed his schemes were always concealed because he worshiped you. Sunday believed you didn't exist because he was only worthy of your afterimage. You were and are his 'father', his entire universe. He shamefully found himself praying to your name against the family's knowledge, images of your beauty embroidered in his mind rather than any flight of fancy.

But how Sunday loathed himself, how pitiful is he if everyone were starting to lead their own life yet he was still following a script, how unfortunate is he if the boy of his dreams felt like the vast sky from his cage. Why does one feel deep disgust within but still mindlessly follows the same path? He wanted to fly upward, to feel your touch but the sky is unreachable and so is you. Sunday knows his love for you like the back of his hand, it's more than the platonic feeling towards his sister and the ambition towards a perfect future, it's the only thing the family didn't plant into his mind at such a young age. His love for you felt like the only thing he could freely express.

You knew he wished to live in a dreamscape, where he would generate happiness for the unfortunates but you don't know this dreamland of his sprouted from the purest of love for you. Those troublesome worries won't reach you there, he swore upon his life that he would shield you away from this brutal world in your new home. You only laughed at his silly delusion though, you never wanted to live in a lie and he knew that clearly. Sunday envied that part of you, he detested how strong you are despite all attempts to drag you down but maybe that's what confirmed his feelings towards you.

You were able to confuse Sunday in the best way possible. You could sob about how ugly you are, complain about your failure of a life and hatred for reality but in the end, you didn't mean it. You wanted to live for the imperfect tomorrow, you wanted to erode a stone that is your destiny with him, with Sunday. Yes, that's what you are. So imperfectly beautiful as he's perfectly fake. That's why he would push you away, as unreasonable as his actions were, he will not taint your future and dirty your determination, this kaleidoscoping pain shall never reach your ears. Sunday doesn't want anyone to find out you're his weakness, he doesn't want to acknowledge you're the sweet reality to his pained dream. He was happily in your shadow even if he could catch a glimpse of your performance.

Sunday loves you so he will let you go.

© art by @/Ceoretkr on twt

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Only Boo!

*kicks down the door* I'm a few weeks late but I have arrived and I am here to yell about this fucking adorable show. Have you heard that it's the cutest shit you've ever seen in a fresh new package of all your favorite silly old romance tropes? Besties, this is truly the Sunday Serotonin we need. Here are the top 10 things I love about it:

The main romance is between a confident sunshine protagonist and a kind older boy working through his grief and an artistic block. Mok (Moo) and Kang are such nice boys, two cinnamon rolls too sweet and pure for this world, and I loved them instantly. They have a nice crackly chemistry between them and really solid communication right from the start.

The setting is rural and refreshing. Moo moves to Nakhom Pathom to attend school for a semester because his mom wants him to focus on his studies before she will allow him to pursue a career as an idol. Little did she know she was delivering him to a cute boy who would become the new distraction.

The crushing and flirting starts immediately, and it's mutual. They just like each other, man. Kang is (slightly) older and trying to be responsible about keeping Moo focused on his studies so he's putting up some token resistance, but it's very very token. They both find excuses to keep seeing each other after they meet.

There's a side couple with a long-term pining friends to lovers arc. The way I squealed when they revealed that photo wall. I support you, Payos, you will get your boo. These two also have a lovely, easy chemistry and seem so comfortable around each other. Their characterization also gets a fun twist in the beginning of the story.

The writing is strong and assured. This was written by the same screenwriting team as Cooking Crush, aka the best written original Thai bl of last season. These folks know their way around a smart romcom. They know how to deploy classic tropes so they feel fresh, build authentic character arcs, and make all the beats of the story feel confident. We are in good hands and don't need to worry about any out of left field conflicts or weird plot turns with this one.

A fresh new cast brings a ton of energy. I really love all four of the main actors for this show. They're young and bright and breathing some new life into an old formula. And both pairs have solid chemistry and seem comfortable in their scenes together.

Some of our old favorites are here too. They've made the smart decision to bolster the young main cast by surrounding them with more experienced seniors like our lady Milk, here playing Kang's friend and neighbor who is all up in his crush on Moo. Louis and Book are also going to show up at some point.

The show incorporates music and dancing in such a charming way. Moo is one of those kids who just has to dance, and the show mines a lot of comedy around his efforts to stifle the impulse as his mom ordered. I don't think he'll hold out for long, though, because Payos and Tae are on him to train with them. And of course the music supervisor is having a great time working in some classic GMMTV music gags (yes, Love Score and Too Cute To Handle both make memorable appearances).

It's a high school story brimming with youthful energy without being mired in immaturity. The tone of this show reminds me of My School President in the best way, in that it has all the sweetness and innocence of a high school romance without making the characters so immature and bad at communication that it's annoying to watch. As expected from the CC writers, these characters may be inexperienced but they are going to talk to each other and honesty will prevail every time.

We are only three episodes in and the romance is already well underway. This is the kind of show where we will see the main pair flirt and date and face obstacles together. The swoony moments started immediately and Moo is already throwing around the faen title. We know from the synopsis that the core conflict will come when Moo is forced to choose between his relationship with Kang and his dream of being an idol, and I expect he will be finding a way around that choice. I'll be strapped in for the ride because I already believe in these two.

[aayakashii]

omg THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD AYA ❤️18 or 32 with haku pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻

❤️18 A kiss while laughing

❤️32 A kiss while someone watches

Ritsu was following you, for the 4th day straight. It was a new record. Usually he would follow you around for two days and disappear for a while, probably to creep someone else out.

You had no idea what was so interesting about you that had the paralegal so hooked on noting down your every step. Maybe he thought he could get good information about your curse if he followed you around?

You didn't see the reasoning behind his actions. It's not like stalking you gathered actual scientific information about your plight – maybe if it was Yuri or Jiro, you could make some excuses and say they were observing you like a little lab rat.

But all that Ritsu managed to do was annoy you to no end.

So you sighed heavily, scratching your head in frustration, while the Haku glanced at you with a genuinely sympathetic look on his face as you two walked towards your dorm.

“How long has he been doing that?” he murmured, subtly glancing behind his shoulder and towards Ritsu, who stood some meters away from you both, overtly following your steps.

“I don't know” you rubbed your face with your hands “I think for like… 2 months? Ever since we met at Sinostra.”

Haku widened his eyes.

“2 months? Why? Is he in love with you?”

You scoffed. Haku had a penchant for making everything into a shitty romcom plot. If you didn't know Towa and him already talked to each other sometimes, you'd probably introduce them so they could bond over their obsession with romance.

“No, he just wants to record my every movement” you said, knowing all too well that Ritsu probably heard you and wasn't ashamed in the slightest “Apparently he thinks it'll help his investigations somehow…?” you trailed off, not buying his excuse at all.

Maybe he was just a creep who liked stalking people and you were his favorite target. Who knows, at this point.

Haku hummed thoughtfully.

“Sounds to me like he's in love with you and doesn't know how to express it.”

You deadpanned.

“Haku, no. He's not.”

“How can you be so sure?” he side-eyed you, with a playful smirk tugging on his lips, and you shook your head.

“He's not.”

“Hey, he wouldn't be the only one, you know?” he winked, and you thought for a moment that he had been spending too much time with Rui for his own good.

You playfully pushed his arm and he chuckled, barely moving at all. Sometimes you forgot ghouls had superhuman strength.

After a few moments of silence as you two leisurely walked, he suddenly leaned towards you, a glint in his eyes as he covered his mouth, just like a child excited to share a secret.

“You know what we can do to embarrass him so he'll stop following you?”

“What?” you asked, fully intent on playing into his game.

“Kiss.” he replied with a smug and satisfied smile, his eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips, making his already clear intention even clearer.

You snorted.

“Is this just an elaborate plan to kiss me?”

Haku gasped dramatically and closed his eyes, putting a hand over his chest.

“You wound me, honor student. I am just looking out for you and I have your best interest in mind.”

“Pfft! Yeah… Totally no hidden intentions at all.” you rolled your eyes.

“None at all” Haku's eyes were locked into your lips.

You stared at him.

Truth to be told, you've harbored a crush on the man beside you for a very long time. You just weren't very sure if every word he told you was truthful, or if he just flirted with the first person that gave him attention.

The thought of him openly flirting with someone the way he did with you would always cause a pang in your heart, and this only worsened once Zenji raved about how Haku was a charmer.

Part of you wanted to be special, different. You wanted to be the only one in his mind, the only one to listen to all those honeyed words. You wanted to know he had truly fallen for you before you could ever allow yourself to give in to your repressed feelings.

Another part of you just wanted to say fuck it and accept the attention he was offering without thinking too hard about it.

You decided to listen to this other part of you.

“Okay.”

Haku snapped his head towards you, eyes comically wide.

“‘Okay’?!” he asked again.

It was your turn to smirk.

“What, didn't think things through before asking to kiss me?” you raised your eyebrows at him.

The surprise weaned off quite quickly and he leaned towards you, his voice getting huskier all of a sudden.

“Not at all. I've been thinking about kissing you for long enough now.”

You felt your cheeks tingle. Haku was insufferable. You wanted to give in to him so bad and just let your feelings run wild, but the fear that it all could consume you quicker than your curse still bound you in fear.

“Then do it for once, you tease.” you huffed, cheeks puffing and brows scrunching as you tried to appear annoyed.

Haku just chuckled.

“Aye aye, captain” he murmured, holding your chin so he could tilt your head upwards.

His lips gently brushed yours before he dived into the kiss, and you could feel his smile as he nibbled and sucked on your bottom lip – it was contagious. You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your hands through his green hair.

The feeling of your fingers threading through his locks made him sigh and his hands circled your waist and pushed you flush against his body. Haku hummed into the kiss, delighted, hands drawing nonsensical patterns on your back as he tried to have you as close to him as possible.

Soon enough, however, you broke contact, gasping for air. Haku grunted, dissatisfied, still pursuing your lips.

“W-wait, wait.” you managed to mutter, putting your hand over his lips. Haku opened his eyes and grinned devilishly as soon as he saw your figure – face flushed, breathless, and disheveled.

“I could get used to this.” he muttered, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, still firmly holding you in his arms.

In your daze, you looked around, searching for nothing at all as you breathed deeply and tried to calm your racing heart, when you locked eyes with a figure hiding behind a tree.

Ritsu was red as a beet while he watched you, disgust and embarrassment quite clear on his face.

“I don't think he left just because we embarrassed him.” you said, licking your lips, blatantly staring at Ritsu's comically aghast expression.

“Who? Oh.” Haku said, briefly forgetting what even started the whole situation.

He smirked, side-eyeing Ritsu for a second before turning your attention back to himself. He held your chin upwards and caressed your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing his face closer to yours once again.

“Then I think we might need to kiss again and again until he gets the memo.”

Full masterlist

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Top 3 Are HEATING UP

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Dec 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Honestly, 3 are neck & necking for top position! They are all so good in different ways. But The Sign had me hooting with laughter this week, so it scooped #1.

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, paranormal, fated mates, mystery, suspense, slasher, and horror. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. I have no idea what I’m watching but I’m ON this ride. Is it a roller coaster? Is it a haunted house? Is it a twirl & hurl? Is there candy floss? Am I even tall enough? Who tf cares. All through the second scene, I was laughing. It was legit funny. Billy has great comedic timing. Guess he’s not just a pretty face.

Everyone should be watching this. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 -  Yech. August may be one of GMMTV’s least likable characters ever (and that is saying something). Meanwhile, MOAR language play! They spoiling me!

Mhok letting Day go then walking away at the party hurt so bad.

Argh this show is great!

Ep 6 so that kiss was right on schedule. I’m looking forward to the boyfriend eps before doom & pain in the new year. Carry on GMMTV. 

Speaking of...

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 2 of 12 - Oh they’re great. It’s great. It’s paced oddly, moving quickly through most of the key scenes of the original JBL in these first 2 eps. I think it’s intending to encompass more of the manga series than that one did. Which is good, cause that will get us all the way to The Library Kiss (TM). It's the best kiss in the manga. I also like the sides in this show (better than the JBL version). 

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8fin - What a lovely slightly unhinged little show. Tew, can we talk? Un-ironic suspenders, that takes courage. Also, the revolver was a crazy gun choice. 

Final thoughts:

This show is just as ridiculous as its title. About a gaymer who falls in love with one of his in-game teammates, who just happens to be a IRL gangster. A real gangster, the kind that actually kills people regularly. The lead pair is doing their best with a ridiculous story and shoddy script, but I enjoyed it. Although I was grateful it wasn’t very long, what we got was oddly satisfying if, frankly, a little bit silly. Recommended. 8/10 

That said, what's important about this BL is not the show, but the production and style. Let me explain... no, too much, let me sum up.

This is a chimera BL. Regarding characters: it has Japan's style otaku + Korea's style gangster + Thailand's style friendship group. It used Thai talent + Korean money (Kakao) & IP (adapted from a manwha) but aired on a Chinese channel globally (iQIYI). I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production and truly doubt that any other genre but BL could ever produce like this. It's like diplomat's BL and it's the great wonder of our age that it happened at all. This BL deserves its place in the history books on production alone, even if that place is only in the footnotes. A remarkable little monster.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - The sides are… messy. Using the same actor for the old bf is… odd. But in the end, this show leaves me smiling. Which means, I like it despite myself. 

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - It's decent. It’s basically what I wanted Antique Bakery to be when I first watched that way back when (not to mention Bite Me). But there’s been so much BL since then that, for some reason, this is falling flat. I think it’s moving too fast for a Thai series. Although, say what you like, Ohm has to be one of the best soft kissers in the industry. He's just good at mouth tenderness.

Ugh, that doesn't sound right. But you know what I mean.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 7 of 10 - I love how First is so upset when Sprite starts chatting and being nice to Koh. Sprite is just a sweet easy-going likable boy. I enjoy Sprite as a main character, he’s a bubbly little communicator. And they had a cute kiss.  

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 14 - Because there was more Alan and Jeff and they were more key to the plot I was more into this ep. I do compare it to green smoothie down the pants in the Trash Watch.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 3 of 12 - Look OffGun are truly great. But I’m just not sure we need them in BL anymore. That said, it’s nice to see Off as "the one with the crush" for a change. Also, this show is only good when OffGun are on screen together, otherwise it kinda, well, sucks.

Night Dream (Sat YT) ep 1 of 6 - Cafe setting featuring a cook and a writer. *Seems awfully familiar.* Except these two are exes and this is a reunion romance. It’s stiff and very pulp but not bad (no crap sound effects) and I am a sucker for a reunion romance. That said, Rookie Thailand is not to be trusted, proceed with caution.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 12fin - I'm grateful this is over. It was tense but for the wrong reasons - sadness and confusion. This final episode was fine, but that’s because it was mostly them being together + flashbacks. Plus all the familiar actor faces of the grown-up friends (hi, Karn my lovely, still stunning I see). But 2 of 12 episodes is not enough for the 10 of suffering and confusion that came before.

In conclusion:

A man is killed on his 10th anniversary resulting in a time paradox, for which the only solution is him never meeting his childhood sweetheart until later in life. Both lovers cycle back to the past at different ages, so that they each become their own 1st & 2nd great loves, but every time it ends in pain, until each also endures 10 years of separation. Finally it gets fixed, but leaves them with multiple memories of time's failures like temporal PTSD, and everyone around them has chronic deja vu. Me? I got both. This is one of those BLs that is high-quality with great acting but poor story. If you like your BL dwelling, maudlin, and tense due to angst and suffering, then you might enjoy this. But I just regret it, 6/10. Recommended only if you like confusing time travel emo pain.

In which case, just watch Tokyo in April is... instead. Give over Thailand, Japan does it better.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 6 of 8 - While our main couple isn’t working for me... the side couple isn’t working for me either. I really wanted to give LeoTai a chance, this is the 3rd show I’ve seen them in, and still nope. I like Jade a lot more when he’s sad. He’s a much more pleasant screen experience depressed. I would like him to stay hurt for a couple of eps, just so I can enjoy this show a tiny bit more. But then he just goes unhinged again. Argh. I just don’t like it. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Pisces of Me ep 17 of 24 - Codependent boyfriends in middle school planning for high school dealing with stuff. Including other boys being into them. 

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 5 of 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. DNF 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - It’s cute but I don’t think BL in this short format is Taiwan’s strength these days. And this is quite slow and dull. Perhaps they should have whacked it down to 6 eps, not 10.

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - This is one of those JBLs that I should like on paper but is failing me. The drag bit was ridiculous but handled gently. The kiss was… well… something wasn’t it? It’s all very odd. I like the photographer cutie character. 

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.

Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.

Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) this is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.

Next Week Looks Like This

Still coming:

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

He so pretty.

I forgot how likable TayNew are, and frankly I think New is a better version of this role for me, personally. I like him a lot. He's a conscientious sweetheart. And a good egg. (Cherry Magic)

Ah the rooftop my old friend. (Last Twilight)

I would like to point out that it's no accident the naga's sex dream happened in the shower, he's a water creature after all. (The Sign)

(Last week)

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Merry Christmas Mishaps

Summary: Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. You were used to the lights and the hustle and - God help him, the snow - that came with where you had called home for so long. You had given all that up to move to California to be with him, and he decided that if he couldn’t get you back on the east coast for the holiday, maybe he could improvise and start making new traditions here together, with a few surprises along the way. 

Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Non-descriptive smut that’s more alluded to but still there. 

Notes: Back on my Javy Needs More Love agenda, but make it the ✨Holiday Edition✨

Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "I have a secret".

---

Christmas looked a little different this year, and Javy knew you were having a hard time adjusting to it. 

When you had fallen in love with him, agreeing to move to San Diego to be with him since he couldn’t exactly relocate for you (he would have, in a heartbeat), you had done so with little to no hesitation. Being together was worth getting used to a new time zone and weather patterns. Last year, he had accompanied you home for the holidays, being introduced to every aunt and uncle and cousin twice removed as the boyfriend who had whisked you away to sunny California, experiencing every tradition and festive tourist trap he could have imagined, his cheeks cold and his toes numb, but with a giant smile on his face because of how happy you were. 

This year, though, he had drawn the short straw amongst his squad and would be working half a day on the 23rd and then the day after Christmas, too. And you, in all of your beauty and grace and complete and utter stubbornness, had refused to entertain the idea of going home by yourself. 

“For God’s sake, Javy. You think I’d let you spend Christmas alone?” 

You had sounded truly scandalized at the suggestion, and neither of you had talked about it since. 

But he knew. 

You were as cheerful as ever on the outside, even more so, really, overcompensating with the winter wonderland that your shared condo had turned into. Hardly a surface wasn’t covered in something festive since your negotiated date of the 15th of November (you were of the belief that Christmas started on November 1st, where he was a strict after Thanksgiving guy). Christmas playlists were on a constant rotation, and he’d watched more Hallmark movies in the last few weeks than he was willing to admit. You were doing everything right to make it seem like you were in the holiday spirit, but he could see the way the light in your eye dimmed just the slightest bit when you didn’t realize he was looking, and how sometimes your smile was just the tiniest bit forced. 

He knew that you missed the familiarity of home and the warmth of family and tradition. He had tried to get your parents out here instead, but it hadn’t worked out like he had hoped. It really would just be the two of you for Christmas. You had assured him that that was all you needed, and deep down, he knew you were telling the truth. Still, he wished he could do something more to make it feel like what you were used to. 

It was a week before the holiday when the idea came to him. You were watching yet another Hallmark movie, set in a snowy mountain town that was fighting to keep a beloved bakery alive (or maybe it was a toy shop, the plot lines were all starting to blend together for him), and you made an off hand comment about the likelihood of ever seeing snow while living in California. It was nearly two AM as you both slept in bed under a green and red duvet when his eyes popped open and he shot up to grab his laptop, suddenly knowing exactly what he could do. 

Javy spent the next several days feverishly planning, making calls and sending emails in between hops and classes. He felt like a kid trying to keep the ultimate Christmas present a surprise, giddy with excitement. It was a gamble, the forecast changing almost by the hour, but he was confident it would be worth it. 

Coming home from work at lunch time on the 23rd, he was practically vibrating with anticipation. You were in the kitchen transferring cookies into a tin from a baking sheet when he walked through the door, the condo smelling like chocolate and sugar. Michael Buble played in the background, and he couldn’t help but watch you for a moment before he announced his presence. 

“Hey baby,” he said. You spun to face him, and he could see the touch of melancholy in your eyes. 

“Hey you.” 

He crossed the room to wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. You pressed your face into the crook of his neck and he could feel the way your body relaxed against his. He held you tighter. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” he whispered into your hair, and you giggled as you pulled away to look at him, your smile warm and sincere. He felt a flutter that he was able to do that. 

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” you returned, raising on your toes to kiss him. He could taste your peppermint chapstick on your lips.

“I have something for you,” he said, and your eyebrow raised in question. He shot you a wink and squeezed your hips before he stepped away. He practically jogged over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, grabbing one of the boxes he had placed there earlier this week and hurrying back to you. He held it out to you with a dramatic bow, causing another laugh to escape from between your pretty lips. “For you, m’lady.” 

“You’re such a dork,” you said, but there was fondness laced through your voice, and Javy just smiled. You took the box from him, running your finger over the shimmering gold wrapping paper. You looked at the gift wistfully before looking back at him. “It’s not Christmas yet.” 

“An early gift. Come on, open it. For me?” 

You rolled your eyes at his exaggerated puppy dog expression that he played up just for you. With a sigh that quickly turned into an excited grin, you tore into the paper. He laughed as you did, knowing that no matter how hard you tried to hide it, you loved presents. 

He could tell you were confused when you pulled out the soft, fluffy scarf, followed by the matching beanie, both in a dark forest green that he knew you favored. 

“These are so nice, baby. I love them. But it’s 70 degrees outside right now?” 

Javy nodded, not bothering to fight the smile that was taking over his face. “Yeah, but it’s colder up in the mountains. So you might need to bundle up.”

You looked up at him in shock, your eyes widening with each passing second. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I rented us a cabin up in Big Bear. It’s just for a couple of days, but I thought maybe we could get away just the two of us. Maybe get some snow and have a white Christmas after all, if the weather pulls through. But at least a colder one, just like you like.” 

You were staring at him with a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and Javy knew he had made the right decision in surprising you. He mentally captured the look on your face right now, wanting to keep it as a memory forever. 

“Javy…” 

It wasn’t often that you were speechless, and he couldn’t help the laugh he let out as he asked, “Are you surprised?” 

Instead of answering, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight. You wrapped your legs around him when he lifted you off your feet and pulled back just far enough to kiss him soundly. 

“This is the best gift ever,” you whispered against his lips. “I love you.” 

You were on the road within the next two hours, the presents from under your tree all packed up in the car as well as the cookies you had just freshly baked. It was almost a three hour drive and by the time he was winding his truck up the mountain side, the sun was setting. You were leaning as far as you could against the window, eyes glued on the outdoor landscape. A thin sheen of snow lined the ground, and you could see the faint shine of Christmas lights from tucked away houses.

Javy reached over to take your hand, lacing your fingers together. You turned to him smiling, and he felt his heart swell. He knew that this was exactly what you needed.

He helped you out of the car once he parked in the small driveway, and he could see the awe written all over your face. The cabin was wooden and cozy, the outside completely decked out in twinkling lights. He could see through the windows that the inside had lights on, too, and he knew the request he had put in with the rental company to have all the Christmas lights up and turned on at the time of arrival had been fulfilled. 

“Oh, baby,” you breathed, spinning in a slow circle once you walked through the front door. The cabin itself was small, a studio set up where every room flowed together with ease and little separation, but it was decorated just as extravagantly as the condo, only moreso, somehow, with the mountain environment and cabin feel adding a deeper element of festivity. 

“This is beautiful,” you said softly. Javy dropped the bags by the door and closed the small distance between you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his breath warm against your ear. "I know Christmas looks a little different this year. So I wanted to make it special for you." 

You turned in his arms to look at him, eyes shining with tears. “You make everything special,” you told him, and he could hear the conviction in your voice that made it so he couldn’t help but believe you. "Thank you," you whispered. "This means everything to me."  You kissed him, and Javy held you close, his hand stroking your back in a soothing rhythm.

You kept things simple that night, making an easy dinner and then cuddling up on the small couch in front of the fireplace to watch a movie. He insisted on something not Hallmark, and you didn’t fight him at all, laughing as you threw on The Santa Clause instead. 

The next day, the two of you went all out on modified versions of your family’s Christmas traditions. You made an absolute feast for breakfast, full of way too many carbs and way too much sugar that you both ate happily and without a care in the world. You baked even more cookies, and Javy discovered that he had quite the talent for decorating them. The two of you laughed and teased each other as you both tried to outdo each other’s designs, and he kissed your pout away when you eventually conceded defeat.

“You’re too perfect. It’s actually ridiculous.” 

You went for a walk in the early afternoon, bundled up in coats you never got use out of in San Diego. You wore the scarf and hat that he got for you and kept your hand in his the entire way. When you got back to the cabin, noses and fingers cold, you started cooking a meal that was way too much for two people. Normally that was reserved for Christmas day, but you’d have to head back home tomorrow night so you were modifying everything just the slightest bit to accommodate while still making it a trip to remember. 

You sipped sweet red wine together after dinner, trading stories about holidays as kids, when you gasped loudly, jumping up from the couch. He looked at you in concern as you practically sprinted to the window. 

“Baby, what-”

“Javy, it’s snowing!” 

The wonder in your voice was palpable. He got up and joined you at the window, watching the snowflakes fall gently to the ground in the dark, reflecting off of the array of outdoor lights. It was a beautiful sight, truly. 

“Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas after all,” he said, his voice low and husky as he wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him, smiling contentedly. You just stood and watched for a few minutes before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Want to go outside?” 

You turned to face him, the excitement in your eyes evident. “Yes!” you exclaimed, already grabbing your coat and shoes. Javy chuckled at your enthusiasm, but really, he was just as excited as you were. 

The air was crisp and cold, but you hardly seemed to notice as you twirled around in the falling snow. He just watched you for a moment, content with the spectacle he was witnessing. You slipped just the slightest bit on your next spin, and Javy caught you, holding you steady as you started to giggle uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but smile at your joy, feeling his own heart warm at the sight.

“Careful,” he playfully admonished. You just sighed happily as you settled against him. 

“Never thought I’d get a white Christmas in California,” you whispered. 

Javy’s pulse picked up as he thought about one of the gifts he had for you, suddenly desperate to give it to you. He swallowed thickly as he kissed your cold cheek. “Let’s head back in.” 

You showered together, the hot water helping you regain some of the warmth you had lost from your unexpected snow excursion. You poured glasses of wine as he set some cookies on a plate for you to share, and the two of you settled in front of the Christmas tree. You eyed the gifts eagerly; it was nearing midnight now, and neither of you wanted to wait until morning. 

You took turns opening the handful of gifts you got each other, swapping stories and reasonings behind them as you did. Plenty of laughs and kisses were exchanged as you went, and before he knew it, you were both surrounded by wrapping and tissue paper. 

Looking at you now, basked in the tree lights and the glow of the lit candles scattered throughout the room, the fireplace crackling in the corner, he knew there wouldn't be a better time than right now. He cleared his throat gently, drawing your attention from the custom puzzle he had made for you of one of your favorite pictures. 

“I have one more gift for you,” he murmured, and his heart started racing wildly in his chest as he reached behind the tree, lifting the tree skirt to grab the small box he had hid underneath it. It was beautifully wrapped, adorned with a silky green ribbon and a small gold bell. Your eyes widened as you looked from the box to his eyes, and he could see the question written all over your face. His heart leaped in his chest as you took it from him, your fingers brushing his before smoothing over the elegant paper, different from what the rest of your gifts had been wrapped in. 

“Javy,” you breathed. “Is this…?” 

“Open it,” he urged, a small smile playing on his lips. You slowly undid the ribbon, setting it aside and then gently running your finger beneath the tape to get the paper off, showing a delicacy you hadn’t before. 

You gasped when the velvet black box was revealed, and when you met his eyes again, there were tears lining yours. 

“Go ahead, open it,” he encouraged, his eyes dancing with anticipation. 

You bit your lip through the smile he could see appearing, staring at him for a long moment, before you finally looked back down. With a deep, shaky breath you snapped the box open. He held his breath as he waited for your reaction, only for his stomach to drop when, instead of the radiant smile and excitement he was so confident you would have, your eyebrows furrowed together, a frown contorting your features. You looked not only confused, but heartbroken. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“What?” he asked, heart racing for an entirely different reason now. “What do you mean?” 

Without saying anything, you turned the open box to face him. Javy felt horror course through him when he looked down to see that the ring box, which was supposed to be housing a shiny, sparkling engagement ring that he just knew you would be in love with, was completely empty. And instead of the name of the jewelry store staring back at him on the silk lining of the inside lid, the LSU logo from the box that at one point held his class ring that was on his hand was staring back at him instead. It took his mind a moment to really register the implications of that, and the groan he let out was long and drawn out. 

“Oh my God,” he said as he smacked his forehead, “I’m an idiot.” 

You still looked confused, but maybe a little less heartbroken as you cleared your throat. “Huh?” 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he pleaded, and he scrambled to grab your hands, sliding himself closer to you on the floor. He knocked the offensive empty box to the ground. 

“I kept your ring it in my sock drawer-”

“Real original.” 

“Thank you, I know,” he responded without missing a beat, “But I also keep my class ring box in there, and I must have grabbed the wrong one when you were in the shower before we left yesterday. I had looked at the ring so many times that I swore the hinges on the damn box were gonna snap so I made myself keep it closed and oh my god-” 

You cut him off with a laugh, shaking your head and wiping at the tears in your eyes. “Javy, it’s okay,” you said. 

But it wasn’t, not to him at least. He had planned this whole getaway so meticulously and the proposal had been something he had been thinking about for so long. He had bought your ring months ago, and had been so excited to give it to you. 

“No,” he shook his head, “it’s not okay. This was supposed to be perfect, and I ruined it. I’m so sorry,” he apologized again. 

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, and he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “It’s not ruined,” you said firmly. “I mean, yeah, this wasn’t exactly how you planned it, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you or the fact that I want to be with you forever.” 

“I just wanted it to be special,” he muttered, still feeling embarrassed. He imagined he would for a good long while. 

You smiled at him, that sweet tug of your lips that has damn near brought him to his knees since the very beginning. You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, giggling softly. You leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I don’t care about the ring, Javy. I care about you. And this is perfect.” 

He looked at you, tears stinging his eyes. A grin slowly spread on his face as he processed your words. “Are you saying yes?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement. 

You grinned right back at him, shrugging playfully. “Are you asking?” 

Javy couldn't contain the emotion that coursed through him. The empty ring box was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Laughter bubbled up between you. "Yes! Yes, I'm asking!" 

Your eyes sparkled when you pulled away, and you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised. It took him a second through the excitement to realize why, and he felt his face heat with embarrassment again. "Oh! Right. Right. Baby, I love you. And I had a whole speech planned, but it doesn't feel like it matters anymore. All that matters is me and you, yeah?" You nodded, tears in your eyes, and Javy felt as calm as he had all night just from the look you were giving him. "Marry me?" 

You kissed him again, your lips molding perfectly against his. He had to rank it as one of the best kisses the two of you had ever shared together. “Yes,” you breathed, your noses brushing together as you nodded fervently. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

You squealed at the sudden movement as he scooped you up into his arms as he stood. He spun you around once, twice, your shared laughter filling the small, warm space. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as he held you, trusting him not to drop you. He knew the smile on his face must have been ridiculous - his cheeks were starting to ache by the constant pull. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. He kissed you again, and you returned it eagerly. You moaned into his mouth as he carried you the few steps to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of you. 

He made love to you slowly, his hands roaming every inch of your body, caressing and exploring with a tenderness that matched what he was feeling. He savored every breath and every touch. There was no rush as you moved together. The tree lights glowed and the fireplace crackled, and it was like just the two of you existed, tucked away from the rest of the world. You clutched at him as he expertly brought you to the edge. 

You lay cuddled up with him afterward, your head on his chest as his stayed wrapped around you, holding you close. 

The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the sound of your steady breathing and the crackling of logs in the fireplace. Javy traced lazy patterns on the bare skin of your back, his touch gentle and loving. The Christmas tree glowed in the corner, snow was still slowly falling outside, and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was after midnight at that point. He pressed a kiss to your head, sighing in content. 

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart." 

-----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: This was incredibly self indulgent. I actually love him so much, it's unhealthy. Hope you enjoyed this one!

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help as usual, and to Mak for the absolutely stunning banner.

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

viii. 'cause I know that it's delicate

— the one where he is rooting for the anti-hero.

❝𝘉𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳. 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘴.❞ —𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴

warnings: did somebody say charles-centered chapter? third person pov, hate, mention of last chapter's panic attack, misogyny (i'm sorry!!! i'm going to let y/n have peace eventually i swear!!!) foul language, cheesy taylor swift references, 2.4k words (+articles as always!).

masterlist ✢ next

Can we stop proving Taylor Swift right for once? When she wrote 'My reputation's never been worse' back in 2017 we thought that would be the end of it. But in more recent times (2017 was AGES ago, guys, come on) the lyrics are still relevant and being applied to actress y/n y/ln's life. Her reputation truly has never been worse.

One thing is being called bad at your job. Which, okay, she is not (I am not biased, I'm just not stupid). y/n is great at being a RomCom actress, she has a stylist that sells her well and has good social media presence. Or had, since that's all gone now.

Even if she was lucky enough to really start making it in Hollywood, we can't ignore the fact that for the past two months y/n has been exposed as a really bad person. AND SHE'S LETTING IT HAPPEN!

While a lot of people in social media have come to her defense in the rejected marriage proposal topic, saying she doesn't have to say yes if she doesn't feel like it, others say it's what she 'owed' to Aidan Kim.

Sources, who are still yet to be revealed, have talked to magazines and celebrity sites about her romance with the guy she only sees as a toy. Does y/n have feelings at all? I guess Charles Leclerc didn't like what she said about him, since there were no pictures of them together at the Spanish Grand Prix. Losing your boyfriend and your reputation in the same week must hurt.

But that's not even the main issue here, why is y/n letting all of this happen right in front of her eyes? Hello, girl, speak up! Does she really have nothing to say in her defense?

People are eating her alive and what she does is post her luxurious breakfast in Monaco, Elix cans and Ferrari Special Edition merch. y/n doesn't care what is being said as long as people keep talking about her. You're going to regret this, girl. That's all I'm saying.

For now, let's say goodbye to the 'Queen of RomComs' reputation (2019-2023).

By Bridget Garcia

Matilde Bassi comes in the defense of y/n y/ln after last week's new discoveries on her breakup, a turmoil that has followed y/n for months now.

"She owes nothing to Aidan Kim. She's a self-made woman, and it's frankly disgusting how people want to give her achievements to some man." The former Broadway star said in an Instagram Live on Sunday June 4th.

After comments asked for her thoughts on the rejected engagement, Bassi didn't hold back: "y/n, just like every woman, has the right to say no. It's a proposal, not a sentence. Good for everyone who is brave enough to know what they don't want in their lives anymore."

Matilde hasn't walked away unscathed after such brave statements, people have started to crucify her on social media. Comments go from how she doesn't deserve to keep playing Juliet to how they're glad she lives in Italy now so they can't come across her on the street, Bassi is suffering similar repercussions to that of her beloved friend.

Let's remember Matilde and y/n were seen together in Europe in May, enjoying a short break in Rome before attenting the Monaco Grand Prix, where y/n went to see alleged boyfriend Charles Leclerc.

What do you think? Is Matilde Bassi right, or should she have kept her comments to herself and held on to whatever amount of love the public still had for her?

FROM CHISMETIFOSO ON TIKTOK: "THE FERRARI BOYS TALK ABOUT Y/N Y/LN" PT.1 & 2

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝Charles went back to Monaco for the week off before Canada, and stopped to take pictures with fans like he usually does. Someone was brave enough to ask him what was up with y/n, besties, you won't expect what he said.❞

[Charles Leclerc, in english]:❝I am lucky to have a woman like y/n in my life, she's an amazing person and a great friend—[cut off]❞

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝The Carlos video was sent by a fan that met Carlos in Spain, she also asked about y/n and Charles and Carlos assured she's loved by everyone.❞

[Carlos Sainz, in spanish]: ❝y/n is friends with everyone at Ferrari because we spent a lot of time together, I like her a lot she's fun to be around.❞

[female voiceover in spanish]: ❝Well, what do you think besties? Are our Ferrari boys on a PR stunt or do they really like certain actress that has brought nothing but drama to the table since they met her?❞

June 7th, Maranello, Italy.

Charles was already having a bad day before they told him about the PR meeting. Although it seemed impossible, this season's car got shittier every time and it made his confidence drop a little more every time he got on it and failed to drive properly. Was winning Monaco really just a lucky strike like everyone kept saying?

Spain was definitely a whole weekend to forget, not only for the shitshow that the Grand Prix had been. He couldn't stop thinking about y/n's panic attack and the way she had cried in his arms that same night.

Charles is not oblivious to everything that is happening around her, and how it did seem to get worse every time. When he first met her, he didn't think it would get to this point where people who didn't even know her would inflict torture and mental abuse on her all day every single day. And although Charles has been through a fair amount of online bullying as a professional athlete and public figure, it's not in the same way that what y/n is being subjected to right now.

"Are you listening, Charles?" the Ferrari PR manager asks, tapping her fingers in front of him, a few drops of coffee jump from his red styrofoam cup and into the white surface.

He nods, uninterested. Charles couldn't care less about whatever the Elix guys have to say. He sees the way the worst of them, Stuart Schaffer, looks at y/n. Lascivious, filthy. Charles has thought about punching him more times than he would like to admit.

There was a whole presentation on how Ferrari is being perceived by fans all over the world right now, touching on several points starting with Carlos and him, the last three races and finally, the people that surround Ferrari.

"Elix is experiencing a drop in sales, and we believe this to be due to a certain public figure that has been seen around the Paddock..." the Elix representative is saying, pointing at a graph that ends at the bottom of the page.

"Maybe it's just that your drink is shit," Charles' mouth is quicker than his brain, and he knows he's completely fucked himself over by the gasps that run through the table. Except for Carlos, Carlos has to hide his laugh with a cough. "I don't know."

The only reason he drank it so often, even when cameras were off, was because he didn't know what to do with his hands when talking to y/n.

"Charles!" the PR manager hisses. There have been several times in which he has earned that hawk-like look from her, but it still fazes him.

Yet, he doesn't back down.

"If you were going to talk about y/n and blame her for whatever disaster is happening with your company, you should have at least asked her to come. Talking behind her back is low."

y/n's absence didn't surprise him, she was back in L.A. first thing Monday. And although he's glad she's not here to listen to these bunch of assholes blaming her for their mistakes, he wishes she was just to see her, to make sure she'll be okay.

His name is passed through the table again in hisses and warnings, and finally he lets go.

"This is your fault too, kid," Stuart Schaffer has his hand in a fist on top of the table, red blotches coloring his face and neck.

Charles loathes the word kid coming out of his mouth. Him and y/n are of similar age, and she's not a 'kid' in his eyes.

"If you weren't fucking that bitch while she had a boyfriend, this wouldn't be happening."

His ears are ringing and he knows it's his face now that's tinted red.

"Get out, please Charles," the manager intervenes before another word can come out of his mouth, or worse, before he reaches Stuart Schaffer with his hands. "Now."

Charles' veins feel on fire as he gets up from his seat and walks out of the conference room. Biting the tip of his tongue so as not to curse Stuart in every single language he knows.

Carlos makes eye contact with him as Charles closes the see-through door and shakes his head. 'They're going to give you so much shit,' his eyes say. And he's right.

The meeting takes an hour more and he's in one of the offices, buzzed with caffeine and bored out of his mind. He has, regretfully, scrolled down the hell that is Twitter. He's even more pissed off than before, and the caffeine is making him desperate to get out of his seat.

“How bad is it?” Charles asks when Carlos crosses the door.

“A little bad,” Carlos isn’t stressed, he even smiles. “For you mostly. But looking at the bright side, no more Elix.”

No more Elix also means no more money from them. Which won’t make a difference, he thinks.

“Thank God,” Charles lets his head fall down the back of the couch. His nape hurts.

“It also means no more y/n,” Carlos’ tone has changed and he’s looking at Charles with that puzzled look that means he wants Charles to expand on his thoughts.

“She can still come if she wants to,” Charles replies, still feigning tranquility. “I’ll give her a pass.”

And he really hopes y/n wants to. Because all he's done lately every time he goes back to the Ferrari Suite during race weekends is look for her around the room, hoping that she'll be looking at him already. It’s like pieces fall into place when it does. He knows he'll miss her if she's not there anymore.

"Yeah, me too," Carlos plops down on the couch next to him, putting his hands behind his neck. "Do you think she's okay?"

Charles shrugs, an impassive gesture that doesn't reflect the turmoil inside his brain and heart. He is worried about her, and has been for a while. "I'm sure she is, she's back in Los Angeles." They have texted often since he left right after the Grand Prix, but it isn't the same as hearing her voice tell him it's alright.

Carlos stares at him for a few seconds more, thinking his next words through. It's not like he doesn't notice the way Charles looks at y/n every time they're in the same room, he also isn't ignorant to the get-together they shared in Monaco—the one Charles shared zero details about—or what happened in Spain when neither made it to dinner.

But he wonders if Charles is aware of how hard he is falling and what kind of a mess he's getting into.

Carlos likes y/n too, although it took them some time to become acquainted. y/n knows how to throw the exact words at him to tease him, she's brilliant, and when people aren't putting her down, her good mood is contagious. She's like sunshine coming through the curtains on a warm morning.

Yet, it's obvious he'll feel more protective over Charles. He knows it's a mistake to spend so much time on social media, not only looking at what people say about himself, but about Charles and y/n, the cruel lies and twisted truths. He has thought about asking Charles whether he's really aware of the way things look to the outsiders, or how they're tearing him down too.

"What is it?" Charles asks, frowning.

Carlos shakes his head. It's not his place to say anything about his infatuation, if that's what this is. "Why don't you give her a call?"

"Yes, I might." Charles nods absently, looking at his lock screen. Pierre has sent him another link to more news about how he's a homewrecker. Pierre calls him 'loverboy' and makes fun of every new article that comes out about y/n and him. Charles hasn't found it entertaining once.

"Charles," the PR manager doesn't have to raise her voice in the silence of the room. "Come here, right now. Please."

"Told you," Carlos mutters, crossing his legs.

Charles groans and gets up. A reprimand isn't the end of the world when his car gets progressively shittier and luck left him a while ago.

And when he's not sure of when he'll see y/n again.

Charles knows he doesn't need to 'fight' in the name of y/n, or that she even would like him to. She warned him weeks ago that he shouldn't get into the nightmare that this situation is. But he'll be damned if he's going to continue letting people put her down at his expense.

y/n is not a damsel in distress, he knows. And standing up for her doesn't make him a knight in shining armor. It makes him a decent human being and a good friend.

Charles thinks really hard about this, way often. Is it okay that his friend makes his heartbeat quicken every time they're together? He feels like a teenager again, with butterflies flying around his stomach when he thinks about her. Not to mention the fact that he's tried to flirt with her several times, to no avail.

There are many things in the world that Charles wishes he could change. His luck, to begin with. But he really wishes things were different when it comes to y/n. He wants her to have peace, he wishes she'd never had to deal with panic attacks or anxiety induced by hate. He wishes they'd met in another time, when things weren't so fragile and the world could stay away from them, and wherever he knows he wants things with her to go.

And he wishes he knew if he's brave enough to deal with all of it.

"Hello?"

The wave of emotion hits him from head to toe and it takes him a moment to catch his breath. He's worse than a teenager, he knows. Charles has never acted this way before, and it makes him vulnerable in a way he doesn't completely dislike, but isn't comfortable with either.

"Hello y/n," he says, after clearing his throat. "I was um– I was just thinking about you."

There is a pause on the other side of the line and Charles looks at the clock on his nightstand. He did the math to figure out the timezones three times, yet he does it again.

"Hi Charles," her voice comes after a sigh of relief, "Were you?"

"Uh– yeah, I– I just wanted to know how you're doing."

Another prolonged silence and Charles adds: "Is that okay?"

y/n chuckles, "Of course it's okay."

"So, how are you?" Charles continues, anxiously pacing around the room. He wants to ask the right questions. "How's L.A.?" maybe that's not one of them.

"Well, it's Lalaland, what can you expect?" there is movement in the background and then a door shuts. "How's Maranello?"

"Well..." Charles isn't sure if Elix has called her already and he doesn't want to be the one to break the news. "The usual. Praying for improvement every week."

"That's something we have in common," y/n's chuckle comes without humor this time. "But I'm going back to New York in a few days, so that's something to look forward to."

Charles smiles. "Do you need any help with moving?"

"Are you flying from Italy to help me move back to New York?" y/n laughs and her genuineness is back.

"I could, if you needed me to."

He has never felt more awkward in his life, or giddier.

"Thank you, Charles. But I have two suitcases with me, I can handle it like a big girl."

It's Charles' turn to laugh, he has stopped pacing. “Just let me know if you need me, y/n.”

“I think I will.” y/n says, and after some consideration: “Can you stay with me on the phone? Just for a little while.”

And Charles is embarrassingly willing to drop everything and stay on the phone for as long as she needs to.

“Yes, sure,” he replies instead, “What do you want to talk about?”

And they talk about everything and nothing. Silly commercials, pet-peeves about airports, favorite colors and long forgotten songs. It takes more than a little while, but neither care about how much time has passed.

It’s not mental gymnastics realizing he likes her. Likes her, likes her. He feels like he’s inside one of her RomComs; already pining for her. What would the name be? Something cheesy and catchy, like 'Racing Hearts'. He likes it. And hates it, too.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” She interrupts her story about the nightmare that Paris was when filming Parisian Valentine, not minding cutting her story short.

Regret comes immediately because he doesn’t know how to fill the silence now, not with the words he wants to say.

That he knows how delicate things are right now. That he likes her for who she has shown him to be and how he is impatient to know even more about her. But he knows he’s probably going to scare her away if those silly words actually come out of his mouth.

“I like talking to you,” Charles says instead. The caffeine hasn't left his system, but he knows the new buzz comes from something else.

“But?” Y/n prompts, he can hear the change in her tone.

“No buts. I like it, I like you.”

“I like you too, Charles.” She says softly, and he pictures the small smile on her face. The one she saves for the times she's one hundred percent comfortable, like when they were at the lake in Monaco.

“And I want you to be okay,”

y/n lets out a shaky breath that makes the microphone crackle. “We are okay, though, aren’t we?” She’s thinking about the tabloids again.

“We are okay. We’ve been on the phone for two hours,” he laughs, and, regretfully, lets out a yawn before he can help it.

“Get some rest, Charlie,” y/n lowers her voice too. “Thank you for staying with me.”

The endearment, although common when people try to be cute to him, sends another wave of giddiness through his body.

"Anytime," he doesn't fight her goodbye because it's a lost cause, especially after he let on his tiredness. "I mean it."

"Thank you," she repeats, "You're a good friend."

Charles smiles, that's enough for now, more than enough for now.

"See you soon, y/n." Charles assures, a smile on his face.

"Goodnight Charlie."

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! are we loving charles or not? thank you to everyone who lets me know their thoughts and interpretations of Delicate, it's incredibly motivating for me to keep writing and it makes me super happy! if you're a ghost reader, i also appreciate you, but don't be shy to interact♡❞

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[myfairstarlight]

People are mourning the lack of angry or make up sex, but actually I'm glad Colin held back. In part 1, we saw how much emotional intimacy mattered to him along with physical intimacy, he longs for that connection, and he had found it with Penelope but finding out she's been hiding this big secret all along is shattering. He needs to sort through that and trust her again first.

Colin visibly still longs for her but he keeps his distance until his mind is on par with his heart (and other parts of him lol) because he knows she deserves as such. He is angry, he is upset, he is hurting, but he still loves her and she deserves better than a man who is emotionally unavailable at the moment, she deserves better than feeling like he only wants her body now. It is telling, after all, that the one instance he lets himself go outside the modiste is because Penelope just shouted "I love you". It's the emotional outburst that almost makes him throw everything out the window because, oh, how much he loves to hear those words, but he cannot say them again back to her yet. And I mean, he longs for her so much, he resorts to sleeping on the couch, just to make sure he doesn't give in but also to stay close enough in case she needs him. And he doesn't push her away though, he tells her he still wants to marry her, but he is not ready to lay together again.

Nicola and Luke kept saying it during press tour, but I cannot stress it enough, this season is romantic. It was the easy, romcom romance in part 1, and the difficult, angsty romance in part 2 as they truly learn to be fully themselves and choose to be together. And so Colin does not let his lust take over, because Penelope means too much to him. He does not want to lay together only to wake up in a cold bed and still be fighting in the morning. He wants to be hers, body and soul, fully and assuredly, and until he accepts the fact he loves her because of Whistledown and not despite since they are one and the same, then he cannot promise Penelope all of himself either.

Colin's character does truly shine through his empathy, sensitivity, earnestness and kindness, and this is just one of these instances to me.

Also happy pride month to him because this is so demisexual-coded.

I am upset we did not get more scenes of them being happy together after everything was resolved though but it's alright, we'll see them be happy in s4.... in a few years (<- coping)

[royal-bubble-tea]

Heyo!!! I was wondering if you could write a FtM reader with a poly relationship with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, first its just general fluff that could lead up to smut. Do tyt with this!

Yes, of course. I loooove Matz 🤭

Ateez - poly Hoongjoong x Seonghwa (smut)

Hongjoong x Seonghwa x ftm! Reader

First of all Hoongjoong and Seonghwa absolutely adore you. When you came out to them, explaining how you felt Seonghwa had a hard time wrapping his head around the concept and the new changes your realisation and feelings brought. Back then you feared you might lose him after coming out and saying that you felt more like you are one of them. Hoongjoong on the other hand was super supportive. He immediatly asked you after your pronouns, how you want to be adressed in general, making your heart flutter at this display of love, affection and acceptance towards you. Hoongjoong also went on a shopping spree with you, deciding that you were in need of a new wardrobe to celebrate your new self. It was around that time that Seonghwa, tagging along and giving his creative input on certain outfits, realised that nothing major would change. He was still very much in love with you and Hoongjoong. You were the same person, same likes, dislikes, hobbies and interests that he adored. He told you as much after one of your little shopping trips. To say that all three of you started crying, overrun with emotions was an understatement. It was Yunho who later on found all three of you on the couch in the dorm huddled underneath one gaint blanket each with their own tub of ice cream watching a romcom. He just smiled at you giving a thumbs up happy with the overall situation.

You were rudely interrupted by your daydreaming by Seonghwa waving a hand in front of your face. "Are you even listening to me?", he asked with a pout on his face. You looked up to him with a smile. "I was listening to you ... for the most part.", you answered. His eyes became slits and you knew that you had to do something to safe the day, quick. "But how can I listen to you when you are standing right on front of me wearing outifts in which you look so god damn good." He rolled his eyes but you did not miss the colour painting his cheeks as he turned around to present another one to you. "Nice safe.", he eventually said. "I know. I'm kinda proud of myself for that one. But you really do look stunning.", you replied. He turned around again showing of his almost sheer black top. You grinned at him like a man possessed. "This looks really nice on you Hwa." You could tell by the way he moved and posed slightly that he was also very much in love with this top. "You know what would look even nicer?", he looks up at you with a questioning look, raising one eyebrow, "You in this shirt in my lap while I'm kissing you stupid", you slowly rise from your sitting position making your way over to him, "My hands underneath this flimsy top, teasing you for looking so delicious", your fingers play with the hem of the top before your hands find their way underneath resting on his well definded stomach. You lean in closer, nosing against his collarbone, the ghost of a kiss against his neck. You can hear and feel his shaky in- and exhale. His hands had made their way to your waist, resting there, anticipating your next move. "Can you imagine it. Maybe we can get Hoongjoong, get him to watch but not allowed to touch. You know how he gets when he does not get what he truly desires. How possessive he is." It is at this that Hwa looks at you confused and after a moment you catch up with his train of thought. "Where is Hoonjoong by the way?", you ask him. He looks at you with pretty much the same facial expression you are wearing right this moment. "I am not so sure. If he would be in the dorms, I am sure he would be here with us right now so that leaves only one other option." You both look at each other before sighning in defeat and saying in unision "The studio", with a look of resignation Seonghwa pulls away from you but before you two are completely separated he plants a kiss on your mouth making you grin like the idiot in love you truly are. He puts on more discrete clothes, grabs your hand and you both march out the door to KQ studio to get your adorable Minion home.

At the studio you knock carefully at the dorr, waiting for Hoongjoong to react and open the door. But after waiting a couple of minutes with nothing happening Seonghwa pulls out his phone and gives him a call. You could hear Hoongjoongs whiny voice at the other end asking what you want. "We are standing right in front of your door so you better open up.", says Seonghwa. And you could already hear noises coming from the other side of the door. It sounded like Hoongjoong was franticly trying to reach the door. Which opened seconds later granting you the view of a rather wild looking Hoongjoong. His hair was a birds nest and his clothes looked like he had been sleeping in them for longer than comfortable. However you could also see the love in his eyes while he looked at you and Seonghwa. You take a step forward, circle your arms around his neck and give him a peck on his lips. "Took you long enough", you whispered. You can feel Seonghwa's warm body behind you as he put his arms around Hoongjoongs waist and pulled the two of you into a group hug. He leanes over your shoulder and kisses Hoongjoong as well. The capatains face turns a bright red and he ushers everyone inside his studio. You immideatly go to the couch in the corner and take a seat, patting the cushion next to you to signla the others to join you. Seogwha makes his way over pulling Hoongjoong with him. But before the tiny man can take a seat next to you he is being pulled in by Hwa and placed in his lap. His face turns red a gain and he hides his face in the crook of Seonghwa's neck. You coo at the adorable display and lean in to pepper kisses on every surface of his face that you can reach. Beside you Seonghwa is laughing at your antics. He places an arm around you and pulls you towards his chest, so that you and Hoongjoong a both comfortable and leans back. His hand glides up and down you side doing the same to Hoongjoong. He let's out a breath before adressing the smaller male. "We wanted to pick you so that we can all go home together. And please just come with us. No arguing for ten more minutes, okay? You have been in here for way to long. You need a break and the two of us miss you so much." Hoongjoong looks up at you and you look back with pleading eyes, Seonghwa mirrowing your expression. "Fine. Let me grab my things and let's head home.", he reluctantly agrees. You cheer in celebration and Seonghwa plants another long kiss on Hoongjoongs lips. The smaller not wanting to seperate that fast chases his lips. You watch them trade kisses, waiting for an opening which comes the moment Hoongjoong leans back on Seonghwa's lap to take a deep breath. You use this moment to gently grab his face and kiss him as well. His lips are slightly chapped as they move against yours. This does not stop you from continuing to kiss him. You move your lips against his, biting his bottom lip and feeling heat flutter in your stomach when you hear him moan at the action. You trace you tongue over the part of his lip that you have just bitten to sooth the bite. However, Seonghwa interrupts you before things can escalate. "You know the faster we get going, the faster we are home and can continue that in our much more comfortable bed." You both nod at him and begin moving at lightning speed to pack everything up. And next things you know you are already sitting in the car, virbrating out of your skin with exitement about what's to come.

The three of you make it to the front door with Seongwha barely being able to open the door, before Hoongjoong pushes inside, your hand in his and he pulls you along inside the dorm towards the bedroom. Finally inside, he pushes you on the bed. The two of you grinning at each other and giggling like sixth graders. Hoongjoong pushes himself up and situates himself between your spread legs. He gives you another peck on the lips before you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in to deepen the kiss. You both try dominate the kiss but Hoongjoong loses as soon as you bite his lip again. This time when you soothe your tongue over the bite you can feel his tongue pocking against yours. You can feel and hear him exhale before pushing your tongue into his mouth. Trying to map and remember every part there is. Hoongjoong now plaintly laying on top of you cradles your head in his hands. All of a sudden he takes a deep breath, you open one eye and see Seonghwa towering over the two of you. His face is flushed and you notice a prominent buldge in his pants. He has started to take Hoongjoong clothes of. He looks you in the eyes as if asking the silent question if this is alright with you and if you are comfortable to continue. You nod at him and start to underess Hoongjoong as well. The tiny Captain is laying between you trading kisses and losing his clothers faster than he notices. Soon he is naked on the bed in all of his glory. You let your hungry gaze follow his face, down his chest and delicious pecks to his plush thighs and hard cock. He pulls you into another deep kiss and you try to get a grip and locate Seonghwa to find out what he is doing not wanting him to feel left out. Soon you find out what he is doing as Hoongjoong first whines and then downright moans right into your mouth. His eyes rolling slighty back and he is trying to stable his breathing. You look over his shoulder at Seonghwa who winks at you. You follow the movement of his arm and realise that he started to stretch Hoongjoong. You turn your attention back to Hoongjoong. You try to kiss him in between deep breaths and one of your hands makes their way down his front to his flushed and hard cock. You begin to stroke him and his moans turn up significantly in volume. Seonghwa's arm is moving at an increased speed and you try to match his with the the movement of your hand. Hoongjoong starts to leak even more pre come and you lightly squeeze the head of his cock on every up stroke while also shoving you tongue into his mouth. Seonghwa is looking down at you two and is being mesmerized by the picture the two of you paint right in front of him. He leans down to bite and lick at Hoongjoong's neck while stroking his fingers over said mans prostate. Hoongjoong is no longer able to form any coherent thought, he is trashing between you two and with one final sharp inhale he comes with a cry. His body snaps like a bow string and he releases all over your hand.

Both you and Seonghwa pepper is face with kisses, praising him for doing so well while letting him catch his breath. Once his eyes are no longer glazed over he begs for you and Seonghwa to take of your clothes as well. Not having to be asked twice you shed your clothes and Seonghwa turns Hoongjoong around so that he is laying on his belly. "Come on Joongi hands and knees." he says after slapping Hoongjoong on the ass. A handprint starts blossoming on the pale checks. You are so entranced by the view that you lean over and bite Hoongjoong in his plump buttcheeck. The latter mewls at you action but you soothe him with a hand and kisses all over his round bubble but and lower back. You lean back but before you can make your way to the head of the bed, Seonghwa grabs you by the jaw and pulls you in for a hungry kiss. His tongue tracing your lips, asking for entrance which you allow for a breath moment before pulling away. You kiss him one final time whispering "Make him feel so good, he never wants to leave this bed again.", against his lips. A fire is lit in Seongwha, he grabs Hoongjoongs hips and starts to push in. This is why you wanted to be at the head of the bed. To watch Hoongjoong's facial expression morph into absolut bliss. You can see him biting his lip in concentration, before his mouth falls open and heavy breaths leave him. The way his eyes roll back at a particular deep thrust from Seonghwa and how his fingers grip the sheets impossible tight. It is a sight how HJ turns from being in control and teasing Hwa into a subby mess, being overstimulated from having just come. But enjoying every second of it. He looks up at you and starts pawing at you hips. You raise an eyebrow in question. "Want to make you feel good as well.", comes the answer inbetween moans and shaky breaths. Above him Seonghwa coos at the two of you. His hair is plastered against his forhead. You can see drops of sweat descending down his neck. His chest is flushed from the action and his breathing hís heavy. But his eyes are so hungry as he locks eyes with you. "Want to make our angel feel good, Hoongjoong? Want to be a good little captain for us and make both of us feel good?", he teases Hoongjoong who nods frantically. You slide closer to Hoongjoong who tightly grabs your hips and puts his move over your heat. The feeling of his cute pink tongue and his heavy breaths against you skin cause you to throw your head back in pleasure. Hoongjoong encouraged by you actions redoubles his effort in pleasing you. All while Seonghwa is thrusting deep into him. His eyes are glazed over and the only thought in his mind is to be good for his two lovers. You weave your hands trough his hair and at one particular pleasurable movement from his tongue you grip his hair and pull on it. That was all Hoongjoong needed to reach his climax. He moans out loud, his eyes roll into the back of his head and you watch him as his whole body shakes. Seonghwa behind him not being any better, as he reached his orgasm as well because of Hoongjoong clenching around his dick like a vice and milking him of everything he was worth.

Hoongjoong flops back down onto the bed trying to regain a clear mind as you play with his hair and tell him what a good boy his is. From the corner of your eye you can see Seonghwa making his way over to you, tapping your hip and making you lay down flat next to Hoongjoong. You look up at him as he makes is way down your body until he reaches your core and starts blowing and licking you. You again throw you head back, grabbing for Hoongjoong's hand which he pulls close to his chest and starts peppering with kisses. Still having the mental image of Seonghwa and Hoongjoong orgasming just moments prior playing in you head is what tips you over as well. You moan both their names and snuggle close to Hoongjoong. Seonghwa gets up and leaves and shortly coming back with a wet rag to clean the two of you. He lays a blanket over you and cuddles up on your other side. Hoongjoongs eyes are already closed but he whispers a quiet "I love you both so much." To which you and Seonghwa reply with "I love you too." You take their hands and try to cuddle as close to them as you can. Hearing Seonghwas steady breaths and Hoongjoongs light snoring lulls you into sleep as well.

Well, that escalated quickly. First I wanted to write something short and sweet but I just ran with it while writing.

I hope you enjoy this story. Have a nice weekend.

And watch and support Ateez performing at Coachella this weekend. I am going to watch the Live Stream on Youtube and I am sooo excited!!!!!!

[tjalexandernyc]

TRIPLE SEC is 1 month old

That's 1 month that my queer polyam cocktail romcom about a brusque bartender with a heart of gold getting picked up by a gorgeous, fat high femme and her artsy nonbinary partner has been out in the world.

I didn't share this when doing interviews and stuff, but I wrote this book in the middle of one of the worst depressive episodes of my life. The winter and spring and much of the summer of 2023 was…bad for me. It was a struggle just to keep my head above water, let alone sit down five days a week and work on a story that was supposed to be fluffy and funny while I felt anything but. I was so worried that everything I was going through would bleed out onto the page and infect my safe little romcom world. There were times where everything felt hopeless. "But doctor, I am Pagliacci" vibes, for real.

I wish I could say writing this book brought me out of the depression. It didn't; my life's circumstances improving did. And after a year of recovery from that bout, I have been able to truly enjoy the response to TRIPLE SEC instead of thinking of it as the work I had to do while I felt so awful. We're not enemies, I've realized. This book and I were bunkmates in a terrible war that happened in my head; we've been through a lot together. We'll go through a lot more.

I have heard from so many readers who are holding this story close to their hearts: poly people who've never seen a relationship like theirs on the page; divorced people who, like Mel, didn't think they could ever find love again; nonbinary and undiagnosed hotties who see themselves in Kade; plus-sized girlbosses who have welcomed Bebe; drinkers and sober people and New Yorkers and folks on other continents and bartenders and librarians, who've all been kind enough to say, "I like what you made. It means something to me." I cannot thank you enough for that.

So on its one-month birthday, I thought I'd tell you what this book means to me, even if it's complicated, even if it means taking off my clown makeup for a second.

If you enjoyed TRIPLE SEC, please do me the biggest favor you can do for an author: tell your friends about it, leave reviews on websites, ask your library to stock it, gift it to someone you think will like it. Every little bit helps.

Wishing you a gentle July and a Disability Pride Month rife with justice. 💜

[shiyorin]

#Princess and the frog? No, it is Reader and the Primarchs frog... I mean 25cm doll :v

#Big E: I should have known dolls worked better than frogs sooner.

#Today's menu: Konrad and Sanguinius.

#Just a romcom story. No one ask but I still do it for funny :v

You tossed fitfully, dreaming strange dreams in the depths of night. When awareness surfaced, you found yourself in a moonlit glade, sparkling with an ethereal glow. 

A rustling came from the treeline, and out stepped a being so bizarre you wondered if still dreaming. Clad head to toe in fluttery silks of spun gold, gossamer wings fluttered serenely upon a back too broad for any bird or insect. 

"Fear not, mortal!" came an undeniably masculine though lilting voice. "I am your Fairy Godmother, here to aid you in this dark hour."

You stared, speechless. Was this truly Him? "Uh...right. Nice dress?"

The Emperor swooned theatrically. "Why thank you dear! Now, down to business - you seek handsome princes, no?" 

"Not particularly-"

"Excellent! For I have just the task." With a blinding flash, many fat toads appeared amid flickering lights. Wait...those bulging eyes seemed awfully familiar...

"Alas, these poor souls were cursed. A kiss from beauty's lips alone can break the spell!" announced Fairy Godmother Emperor. 

You eyed the frogs warily. "And what if their infectious diseases jump from mouth to mouth upon such contact?"

Fairy Emperor pouted, wings drooping. "Fear not harm, my dear! True love conquers all impediments. Now, chop chop - kiss them and claim your men!"

With that he shoved you none-too-gently towards the waiting amphibians. You dug in your heels stubbornly. "Absolutely not! I'll catch some plague for certain, kissing frogs willy-nilly."

Unfortunately, the frogs had other ideas. They began hopping toward you, croaking plaintively as only amphibians can. You shrieked and ran, the army of frogs gaining swiftly. Diving into the woods, you dashed wildly as frog gave chase.

Crashing through brambles with amphibious entourage in relentless pursuit, you fled breathlessly until-

You woke with a start, entangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Many pairs of bulging eyes stared down at you, and you realized with dread - the frogs had infiltrated your very dreams! Screaming, you swatted them away, bolting upright just in time to see...

Nothing. Only empty room greeted your wide eyes. It had only been a nightmare after all. You sighed shakily, scrubbing your face rigorously as if to purge all memory of Fairy Emperor's nonsensical demands.

From now, you vowed never to sample strange foods before bedtime again.

Konrad Curze

You returned wearily to your chambers after a long shift, eager to collapse into comforting silks. But stopping short, a glint of silver caught your eye amid folds in bed.

Approaching cautiously, you peeled back layers to reveal a stuffed doll nestled innocently within. It was fashioned to resemble a certain Night Haunter, down to each rasping spike and curl of thread-hair. 

Though only 25cm tall, its button eyes seemed eerily familiar, bearing the Primarch's unnerving gleam. You scooped it up suspiciously, turning the toy this way and that. 

Who would leave such a thing, and why model it after Konrad Curze of all beings? You wondered if it was some joke, yet detected no hint of tampering. Likely one of the Emperor's strange gifts that simply...appeared sometimes.

Resolving to ponder mysteries later, you shrugged and nestled your new companion. "Well little doll, it's true your original is far from cuddly. But you're rather cute yourself!"

Burying your face in soft felt, you swore you felt tiny muscles tensing as the doll seemed almost...desperate to escape your hold. You paid it no mind, merely tightening your grasp with a contented sigh. Because that was surely impossible! 

Observe button eyes pleading silently, On a strange impulse, you pressed a fleeting kiss to the doll's stitched mouth, stilling its squirms.

At once a tremendous plume of dark smoke erupted, swallowing the room in choking fumes. You fell back coughing, but through the haze saw a towering silhouette emerge like a vengeful wraith. 

When smoke cleared, a fully formed Konrad Curze stood before you - all ten feet of primal fury barely contained within smoldering armor. Yet his usual scowl seemed almost... bashful? His pale skin flushed to a sallow stain across razor-thin cheeks. And were those dark eyes widening in dread?

He grasped desperately for some semblance of composure, snarling to mask inner turmoil. “Explain yourself, mortal, before I flay you where you stand!” 

You gaped, struggling to process this abrupt transformation. “I, uh...kissed your doll?” 

Realization dawned in widening dark orbs. “The visions spoke true. I....”

Your mind is reeling. What in the Emperor's name had just occurred?! "My... My Lord... So... you were the toy all along?" 

A curt nod, gaze darting fitfully about as if seeking escape. Clearly the Night Haunter wished to be anywhere but here, pressed into vulnerability by his bizarre enchantment's end.

He backed slowly into a shadowed corner, hoping its folds might swallow him whole. Never had Konrad felt so exposed, so embarrassed, and at the hands of a mere mortal, no less!

"The Emperor deemed a...lesson was in order..." His whisper was ragged, commanding. Yet undercurrents of shyness shone through crackling anger and pride. "This humiliation is beyond enduring." 

You couldn’t help but smile, endeared by his fluster. But why? You should be scared and terrified when facing a Primarch!  But no, you find him... cute? Your taste in men is terrible and you should die for that. You smile wryly "There now, it can't have been that horrible a kiss to transform you so."

A mighty gauntlet shot out to capture your wrist before you could continue your word. Konrad gripped just tightly enough to emphasize his immense strength without harm, glaring daggers through slitted gaze slits.

"You shall tell no soul of this humiliation, mortal," he growled, low and menacing. Yet the effect was ruined somewhat by a pink flush darkening to fuschia across his cheek plates. You merely grinned wider. You know you are playing with fire and would die.

"Oh, I don't know. Your reaction seems payment enough for that." you mused slyly, tapping his knuckles with your free hand. "Maybe another kiss, hmm?"

Thought Konrad surely imagined eviscerating the audacious creature where you stood, lingering embarrassment gave way to begrudging intrigue instead. Leaning down, he brushed your cheek in a facsimile of affection, warmth echoing through plating. Lips brushed softly in the embrace's sheltering shadow, kindling sparks that may blossom yet into something beautiful, unexpected…

Sanguinius

You groaned, rubbing gritty eyes as reports swam blurrily before your. 11 hours straight hammering away in this suffocating medicae vault had pushed even your limit.

"Enough!" you snarled, flinging down your datapad in frustration. The neverending  bureaucracy would be the death of them all at this rate. Glaring about at mountains yet unscaled, you longed for sweet oblivion's embrace.

A flash of silvery white caught your weary gaze. On the floor beside your chair lay a small stuffed toy, a perfect miniature Sanguinius in all his golden glory. You blinked slowly, wondering if exhaustion had driven you mad at last.

"Great, Now I'm hallucinating." you muttered, scooping up the 25cm high Primarch doll. Its fabric wings extended invitingly and you couldn't help but nestle it against your cheek with a bone-deep sigh. The toy smelled faintly of plumage and night-blooming blossoms, soothing your frayed nerves. 

But as you sagged against the barricade of unfinished records, even hallucinations could not stave off sleep's implacable tide. You curled around the tiny angel and surrendered, visions fading to blankness at long last...

Light caressed your face some untold time later, lingering there as if loath to disturb. You grumbled and would have rolled away, but something held you securely yet gently in place. 

Bleary eyes blinked open to confusion. You lay slumped across your desk still, but a soft blanket had been draped protectively over slender form. And those weren't feathers caught in your hair, were they?

You sat up abruptly, dislodging more downy intruders. 

"But...how...?" you protested weakly. Only the teasing morning breeze answered through open ceiling panels, rippling records abandoned by your side.  

No footprints marred the dust-coated floor, and the door remained bolted fast. You hugged yourself, feathers floating free on invisible currents as mind chased circling mysteries endlessly. 

You eyed the tiny doll warily, half convinced you still dreamt amid paperwork piles. Gently poking its downy cheek elicited no response, yet the craftsmanship seemed uncannily lifelike. 

"Weird..." you muttered, though found yourself drawn again to those embroidered features so serenely angelic. On a whim, you pressed a featherlight kiss to its head, chuckling at your own folly. 

Smoke billowed where the doll had sat, forcing your back with a gasp. Two massive wings materialized amidst swirling mist, great plumes showering silvery motes as they stretched to their full span. Before you coalesced a giant finding you with a patient smile.

"Lord Sanguinius!" You shrieked, recoiling instinctively from this new impossibility. Your hands fumbled panic-stricken for the door behind, scrabbling at locked metal in desperation. 

"Your reaction… quite far from what I expected," came his soft voice behind. You froze at the gentle jest, relief warring with confusion and not a little dread. 

Wings rustled and a warm presence appeared at your back, blocking escape. "Am I truly so terrifying, mortal?" Sanguinius asked, hurt faint yet unmistakable. 

You dared a look over your shoulder into his earnest face. Gods, those earnest faces would be your undoing one day...Cheeks burning, you stammered, "M-my apologies, Angel. You just surprised me, that's all."

His beam could have lit the darkest void. "No harm done. Now, reward my efforts properly. Does a kiss still await?"

Heat scalded your further. Kiss??? But those hopeful eyes would accept no refusal, and truly, he deserved reward...

Slowly turning, you gazed up into sapphire orbs aglow with boundless compassion. Steeling your nerve, you leaned close and touched your lips to his gently.

Feathers as soft as velvet caressed your cheek in answer. When at last you broke away, light-headed and heartsore, Sanguinius grinned triumphantly. "See? No peril nor perilous acts to earn beauty's favor."

[minipisi-is-dumb]

idk y'all but the whole "saiki does not fall in love because of his powers if you take them away he would be normal" and similar variations of those arguments against aroace saiki headcanons (which. why do you feel so attacked for a hc that you need to bend canon in weird ways to justify ships that make no sense) make me so uncomfortable bc they feel just like when people say that ppl who are aspec wouldn't be aspec if they weren't ND or traumatized or mentally ill or whatever similar.

like ok nobody knows if me being ND is what makes me aspec or trans or what but i know i AM regardless. also you can't fucking separate my neurodivergency from me that's not how it works i am not a separated person from it IT LITERALLY CHANGES NY BRAIN STRUCTURE but whatever

wether you see saiki as autistic, gifted (i know i do lmao), both or any other type of ND you cannot deny the man's got HEAVY coding, and that coding comes along with his powers

like if you have watched the show you would 100% get it but the guy is so ND is actually pathetic (affectionate) and part of the feeling of separation is enhanced by him being a literal psychic whose powers work as an extension of his symptoms (the whole "i can hear every thought in a 200km ratio and it physically exhausts me to not be able to filter thoughts" is such a latent inhibition deficit MOOD okay)

so what if he's aspec because of his power/neurodivergency? does that mean he's less aspec? that his experiences in the show are less real? nah they're not

and I'm not saying this all because ooooo having a pink hair anime guy aroace in fan communities is so important oooooo but more like. the entire reasoning of people invalidating it all. like the mentality and the obsession with shipping him just bc he's the protagonist. that type of invalidation can pass onto real life stuff

like ive lived good ol aphobia and dismissal of me being ND going together, not always but truly a handful so that this entire thought process pisses me off but ugh whatever works are stupid everything is stupid is not like anyone who ships saiki in generic romcom style while hating on any and all aspec hc of him are even gonna care that a lot of their arguments instead of being "nah i just don't personally interpret him like that death of the author or whatever" go to "he is actually NOT because his POWERS ARE TO BLAME that he doesn't see people he just sees their bones because of XRAY and he doesn't like kokomi because he READS HER THOUGHTS!!!!!" like have anyone in this app heard what a metaphor is

eh whatever im tired i just wanted to get it off my chest i need to cook my dinner n rewatch the show

[lurkingshan]

The Ride or Die Drama Couples List

So the other night I got a little sassy on main because some of the girlies were complaining that King the Land is focusing more on the couple moments (aka relationship development) between Gu Won and Sa Rang and doesn’t have enough plot. Which is a very typical fandom complaint about romcoms that I absolutely hate, because in a good romance the relationship is the plot, people! It’s bizarre attitudes like this that get us random murder plots spliced into every other romcom for the ratings, and I am begging y’all to stop the madness. 

Ahem. Anyway, that post seemed to resonate with some folks and get them discussing other dramas, and so inevitably @troubled-mind wandered into my notes and said gee Shan, it seems like maybe you should make a list of dramas that show us couples in a relationship and explore how they make it work and ultimately stay together. And I’ve warned y’all before, if you make a stray comment in my direction there will be a list coming your way. So here I am again, doing the absolute most.

Today I present to you a list of my favorite dramas that show you not only how the couple gets together, but also how they stay together. Criteria:

The couple doesn’t have to be together when the drama starts, but they do have to actually begin their romantic relationship no later than halfway through the drama’s run so that we have substantial time with them as a couple

The relationship development between the couple is a primary plot driver (so no dramas where there’s a great long term couple just hanging out in the background)

The relationship story may include some physical separation or even a temporary breakup, but not the betrayal kind–these are the sort that actually force an unaddressed issue to the surface and ultimately bring the couple even closer 

Happy endings only, these pairs are sticking together 

Ride or Die Drama Couples

Bad Buddy - Pat and Pran

(Thailand, YouTube)

This is tumblr so do I really need to tell y’all about Pat and Pran? There is a reason we all lost our minds over this show and it’s because we got to be in this relationship with them so intensely and see them fight to stay together despite it all. Their ending is bittersweet because of their families, but the show leaves us no doubt that they both think the other is worth it and they will always stick it out together. 

Dark Blue Kiss - Pete and Kao

(Thailand, YouTube)

Shout out to the OGs! Pete and Kao originally got together in the Kiss series (you can watch it, but you really don’t have to, fam) and Dark Blue Kiss brings them back three years into their long-term relationship to give us a peek into their struggles with the closet and the toll it takes on both of them individually as well as the strain it puts on their relationship. 

Flower of Evil - Hee Sung and Ji Won

(S Korea, Netflix or Viki)

Hee Sung and Ji Won are already married (with an adorable daughter) when this drama begins, and the backstory of their relationship is unspooled alongside the larger mystery at the heart of the show. One of the most fascinating and heart wrenching love stories I have ever seen, centered on a character who is so emotionally damaged that he genuinely believes he is incapable of love even as love pours out of him. Damn, I’m gonna make myself cry into my oatmeal.

It’s Okay, That’s Love - Jae Yeol and Hae Soo

(S Korea, Viki)

Speaking of crying, lord. Ahhhhhhh. Let me pull myself together. It’s Okay, That’s Love is a healing drama about two people who fall in love and support each other through serious mental health challenges. I don’t really want to say much more than that. Bring tissues, besties!

La Pluie - Patts and Saengtai

(Thailand, iQIYI)

My beloved! This Thai drama is about a pair of soulmates–or are they–who find each other and try to make their relationship work. That’s it, that’s the show. In this drama, the relationship truly is the plot, despite some of the fantasy elements being used to highlight its themes. La Pluie is about the importance of choice and a rebuke of romantic fantasies that fate and destiny will handle your love life for you. I and many others have written about it extensively, so if you decide to watch, you can go nuts on meta. 

Lighter & Princess - Li Xun and Zhu Yun

(China, Viki)

I really love this show. This is a long format drama so there will be longer stretches where the couple still has not officially gotten together, but the relationship between them is the heart of the entire show, and we get the distinct pleasure of watching them fall in love twice, and the second time figure out how to make it stick. Such a treat.

One Spring Night - Ji Ho and Jung In

(S Korea, Netflix)

Oh how I love this quiet little drama about two people who fall for each other while one is still in a relationship with someone else, and figure out how to untangle the mess they’re in. We get to see them not only fall in love, but figure out how to become a unit who can withstand the harsh judgment coming their way and become a family on their own terms. Bonus adorable child alert!

Tomorrow With You - So Joon and Ma Rin

(S Korea, Viki)

This time travel melodrama is one of those that I started with no expectations and then sat up part way through and said what gave you the right to be this good! This is another one where the relationship begins for dubious reasons, but the suspect motives are quickly taken over by genuine feeling. We really get to live with the relationship in this one and the message is all about treasuring the life and time we have together. 

The Rebel Princess - Awu (Wang Xuan) and Xiao Qi

(China, Viki)

I think the phrase Ride or Die was actually invented for them. Talk about a power couple. Once these two get to know each other (this is a historical so as per usual, their marriage wasn’t actually their choice but rather the result of some asshole’s machinations in a quest for power, joke’s on them though) they are in, baby, and their devotion and loyalty never wavers. This is a historical epic in war time, so the couple will be physically separated multiple times, but it only makes them stronger and each of their reunions sweeter. Their relationship is the heart of the show and the throughline in their chaotic lives.

What Did You Eat Yesterday? - Shiro and Kenji

(Japan, the ether)

Saving the best for last because this right here is the GOAT in this category. It sits at the top of my all-time favorite dramas list and I love it passionately. Because y’all? This drama is explicitly about a middle-aged couple learning how to be together in a long-term relationship. That is the entire plot. And it’s fantastic. Stop reading this and go watch it!

Honorable Mentions

Yumi’s Cells - Yu Mi and Goo Wong 

(S Korea, Viki)

This one is not on the list proper because (gasp) the couple doesn’t end up together. I know, I’m still sad about it, too, even though I went into this drama fully aware of the concept (a season about each of Yu Mi’s major relationships). But man. Yu Mi and Goo Wong just have that something, you know? Even knowing they don’t stick it out, it’s a delight to watch them fall in love and settle into a relationship together. Technically there is a second season featuring Yu Mi’s next relationship (Babi? I don’t know her), but I don’t want to recommend it and you can’t make me.

I must also give a shout out to the bl season 2s that exist expressly for the purpose of showing how the characters settle into a relationship after the first season get together:

Gameboys 2 (Philippines, Gaga) - Cairo and Gavreel

Minato’s Laundromat 2 (Japan, Gaga)- Shin and Minato 

SOTUS S and Our Skyy (Thailand, YouTube) - Kongpob and Arthit

Still 2gether (Thailand, YouTube) - Tine and Sarawat

Utsukushii Kare 2 (Japan, Gaga) - Hira and Kiyoi

And because this is my post and I make the rules, I am also doing some honorable mentions of the friends to lovers slow burns where technically they are not together until the final arc of the story but let’s be serious they are together the whole time and just don’t realize it yet so you know exactly what their relationship is going to look like:

Fight for My Way (S Korea, Viki) - Dong Man and Ae Ra

Happiness (S Korea, Viki) - Sae Bom and Yi Hyun

Hospital Playlist 1 and 2 (S Korea, Viki) - Song Hwa and Ik Jun

My Only 12% (Thailand, iQIYI) - Seeiw and Cake

My Ride (Thailand, Gaga or YouTube) - Mork and Tawan 

Romance is a Bonus Book (S Korea, Netflix) - Dan Yi and Eun Ho

Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo (S Korea, Viki) - Joon Hyeong and Bok Joo

Whoops you woke the beast @troubled-mind. @rocketturtle4 @neuroticbookworm @chickenstrangers here are more for your mile long rec lists. :)))