#side stories and alternates will be posted soon!

[dior-elkie]

Crimson Petals

written by @dior-elkie and @kiremrem

Heiji Hattori and Shinichi Kudo were inseparable best friends. They shared everything—adventures, mysteries, and a passion for solving crimes that brought them closer each day. But little did Heiji know that his heart harboured feelings for Shinichi that he couldn't bear to confront.

Despite their strong bond, Heiji sensed something unspoken between Shinichi and the phantom thief, Kaito Kid. Their interactions were filled with hidden glances and unspoken words that only he seemed to notice. As days passed, his unrequited love for Shinichi deepened, becoming a weight he found difficult to bear.

He tried to distance himself, thinking it would ease the pain in his heart. But the more he pulled himself apart, the stronger his feelings tugged at him. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his emotions just wouldn't cooperate. He hoped some distance might lessen the intensity, yet it only seemed to light the fire within him but he couldn't shake off those growing feelings, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

One afternoon, while he was solving a murder case in his home, he took a quick break from thinking. He couldn't quite understand this case.

"If only Kudo was here," Hattori said to, particularly, no one. 

Just as he took a deep breath, a sudden fit of coughing seized him. He doubled over, a handkerchief pressed against his lips as he coughed up small, crimson petals. Panic surged through him, a mixture of confusion and fear gripping his heart.

Gasping for air, Heiji staggered backward, his mind racing to comprehend what was happening. The pain in his chest intensified with each cough, the sensation was like sharp thorns digging into his lungs.

“What.. What is this?..” He managed to say.

He struggled to reach his computer, then opened it to search for information on whatever this was.

He finally found it and when he read through it, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Is this for real?..” 

The search results showed that what was happening to him is called the ‘Hanahaki Disease’. This is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided attraction. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings and their memories of that specific person / people also disappear.

“Then is there a meaning to those flowers too?” He seriously asked himself. He gathered all the petals and deduced that there were only four types of flowers.

“I have to figure out the names of these flowers first..” He stood up and changed his clothes. He hurriedly went to a flower shop.

“Hello, welcome to Hanafuku ! How may I help you?” The florist approached Heiji who was panting.

Hanafuku is an actual flower shop in Osaka

When he stopped panting, he opened his left hand to show the lady the petals.

“I want to know what flowers these are.” 

The lady was surprised at this request but immediately regained her composure. “Follow me please.” She led him to the cashier and asked him to put the petals on her hand and so he did.

“Please wait one moment. If you want, you can sit over there.” The lady politely points at the couch near the shop’s entrance.

“Alright. Thank you, ma’am.” He bowed to the florist, then walked over to the couch and sat down.

A few minutes later he was called. He immediately walked up to the cashier.

"Sir, these flowers—Aster, Chrysanthemum, Daisy, and Camellia—are their names," she said, pointing to each one as she mentioned it. “Do you want me to tell you what each of them means?”

“Yes, please.”

“Aster represents love and daintiness, while Pink Camellia expresses a longing for someone. Daisy symbolizes innocence and loyal love, often paired with a sense of secrecy or it’s like saying *I’ll never tell*. Red Chrysanthemum conveys a direct message of I love you. Despite their unique meanings, all these flowers signify emotions associated with love, affection, and sometimes longing or desire.”

The man listened intently, absorbing the significance behind each flower. As the florist finished her explanation, he nodded, appreciating the depth of meaning woven into the blooms he had coughed up.

“Thank you for sharing that.” He said with a gentle smile, “Those meanings are truly beautiful.” He reached into his pocket and handed her some money.

“Don’t worry, sir. I won’t be needing that.” The lady said as she refused to receive the money from Heiji.

“Why? You should take this because you took your time in figuring out what kind of flowers they are and what their meaning is. I should definitely pay you with something.”

“Since you insist so much, good sir. How about this? If you can survive that disease, come back here. This is how you can pay me.”

Heiji was surprised by what she said. “Wait, how did you know I have a disease?”

“Anyone who enters while clutching petals is usually suffering from the so-called Hanahaki Disease. I’ve grown quite accustomed to this scenario. So to pay me, you just have to come here after you get cured of this disease.”

"Alright, thank you," he said, bowing as he headed to the door. Before he could leave, he heard the lady say, "Please, come back again."

As weeks passed, Heiji's condition deteriorated, marked by frequent coughing fits, letting out petals with blood. Despite the pain, he hid his suffering, pushing harder in investigations with Shinichi and sometimes Hakuba, masking the turmoil within. His forced smiles and strained laughter concealed the unspoken anguish.

Shinichi remained oblivious to Heiji's declining health, engrossed in cases. Heiji concealed his coughing fits, seeking solitude when the pain became unbearable. Tears mixed with the petals stained his hands, his unconfessed love causing unbearable agony.

In silence, Heiji endured, unwilling to disrupt their friendship. Despite his efforts, traces of blood on his handkerchief and weakening health revealed his struggle. He carried the burden alone, torn between confessing and preserving their bond, the blossoming flowers threatening to overwhelm him.

One day, Kazuha, Hattori’s childhood best friend, went to his house to visit him. She had been so worried because he hadn’t been answering their texts and calls. It seemed to her that he was distancing himself.

She heard a very painful cough and hurried to the source of the sound.

"Heiji, what's wrong?" Kazuha's voice trembled with concern as he rushed over to help him.

"It's nothing, Kazuha, just a cough," Heiji attempted to brush it off, but the petals gave away the severity of his condition.

"Don't lie to me, Heiji. I know something's not right," Kazuha insisted, her eyes filling with worry.

Taking a deep breath, Heiji confessed, "I have the hanahaki disease. I have feelings for someone, but it's unrequited."

Kazuha's heart sank. "Have you told them?"

Heiji shook his head, "I can't. They love someone else."

Tears filled Kazuha's eyes as she embraced Heiji tightly. "You can't face this alone. I'll help you through this, Heiji."

He returned her hug, finally letting go of the pain and agony he had been carrying for the past few weeks.

~~

Timeskip to a case without Shinichi alongside him. The only people he knew there were the police investigator, Kazuha and… Hakuba.

After the case was solved, he felt like he was going to throw up. He covered his mouth and went to Kazuha.

“What’s wrong, Heiji?”

They communicated with their eyes. Kazuha worriedly looked at him and said: “Let me accompany you.” Heiji nodded as she led him to the nearest bathroom.

Hakuba was looking at them suspiciously so he decided to follow them.

With Kazuha and Heiji, they arrived at the comfort room and Heiji immediately threw up on the sink.

“Let it all out.” Kazuha said as she patted his back.

After he finished throwing up, the door suddenly opened. They were both startled as Hakuba walked in.

“You have the Hanahaki Disease? Hm, that’s why you were looking so suspicious the whole day.”

It remained quiet. Hakuba sighed and looked at Heiji seriously.

“Who is it?”

For the first time Heiji spoke, answering him.

“Kudo.”

“If you don’t mind me asking.. How did you fall in love with him?”

“Hakuba-kun!” Kazuha yelled and turned to her best friend, “You don’t have to tell him.”

Without looking at her, he shooked his head. “It’s alright, Kazuha.”

“I admired him. I saw him as a potential rival. He was my best friend . It was supposed to stay that way, I never thought that these feelings of mine would grow and develop into something else.” He paused for a second before continuing, “Romance. Such a dangerous yet sweet game. One that is hard to decipher. One that is hard to control. Even the best detective might have a hard time solving such a mystery. To solve and give a solution.”

"It sounds like you've gone through quite an emotional journey. Sometimes, feelings evolve unexpectedly, and navigating the complexities of romance can indeed be challenging. It seems like you're grappling with conflicting emotions and uncertainties about the nature of your relationship.” Hakuba said and the other just nodded. “So why not get surgery?”

“A surgery? Why would he get one? How is it connected to Hanahaki Disease?” Kazuha asked the blonde.

“Oh? You don’t know, Kazuha-san?” Hakuba turned to face the girl. “Getting surgery is one of the cures of this odd disease.”

“Wait, really?!” She turned to face Heiji and grabbed his left arm. “You should definitely get one, please! I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m sorry. But I’ve decided to let the flowers take over me.”

“What?! Are you an idiot, Heiji?!”

“It might be because when the flowers are removed, the victim's romantic feelings and their memories of that person also disappear.”

“Wh-what?”

“That’s exactly the reason. I’m sorry, Kazuha.”

“Think about it again, Hei." Her eyes were starting to get watery.

“Listen to her, Hattori. I know we’re not really that close. But I don’t wish for you to die because of these feelings of yours.” Hakuba crossed his arms. Heiji smiled.

‘Oh, how am I so lucky to have them as my friends? But unfortunately, my decision is fixed.’ He thought.

"I have thought about it since that day. Since I fell. Since I found out I have Hanahaki Disease. I wondered if I would ever get over this crush of mine for Kudo. I wondered if I should fall for someone else just so I can get rid of this disease. But I decided to not do it because I love Shinichi with all my heart, figuratively and literally." He chuckled and continued talking. "I wouldn't want to forget my love for him. I would especially not want to completely forget about him. Like, just because I need to get rid of this? It isn't really worth it. My memories of Shinichi and Shinichi, himself, are the most important."

After Heiji finished speaking, Kazuha hugged him and cried while the former patted her head.

Suddenly, Hakuba spoke.

“Do you mind?”

“What?” Heiji asked with a confused look on his face. His question was answered when the other opened his arms wide. Heiji laughed at the action and said, “Come here, Hakuba.”

The three hugged while comforting one another (mainly Kazuha).

~~

Hakuba had gathered the courage to confront Shinichi about Hattori's feelings. However, upon arriving, a bittersweet scene unfolded before his eyes.

Through the window, Hakuba witnessed Shinichi standing close to Kuroba, their gazes filled with an unspoken tenderness that spoke volumes. The way Shinichi looked at Kaito was unmistakably that of someone smitten, and deeply in love.

A pang of sadness and realization struck Hakuba. He understood at that moment that Shinichi's heart belonged to Kaito, and any attempt to intervene would only cause more heartache. With a heavy sigh, Hakuba murmured softly to himself, "Oh. I can’t save you after all…" The ache in his heart was evident as he whispered, "Hattori…"

Knowing he couldn't interfere or change the course of unrequited love, Hakuba silently turned away, leaving without confronting Shinichi. He carried with him the weight of unspoken truths and unfulfilled hopes, feeling the pain of Hattori's unreciprocated feelings for Shinichi. With a heavy heart, he left.

~~

Kazuha approached Heiji with the intention of discussing his situation once more.

“Heiji? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Oh? Sure, Kazuha. What is it?”

“How do I say this… I love you so much, platonically. You know that, right? I’ll always remember you. Even though I don’t approve of your reasoning, I can’t really stop you now, right? You’ve always been a hard-headed guy. Once you decide on something, you’ll absolutely push through it even if it may cause you harm.” She paused and reached for his arms, gripping them tightly. Heiji continued to stare at her, his worry evident in his expression. “But is it selfish of me to force you to get surgery? I don’t want you to die. I’ve always seen you as a sibling, and I just… I don’t think I can live without you.”

“Kazuha… I— ”

“I know, just… Please let me have this.” She let go of his arms and hugged him. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’ll be here with you when I die,” she sniffed, “I promise.” He said as he hugged her back, patting her head to calm her down.

Kazuha held onto Heiji tightly, feeling the weight of his words sinking in. She knew he was full of determination, a trait she admired but feared in this situation. As they stood there, embracing each other, silence enveloped them. Heiji's promise echoed in her mind. A bittersweet reassurance that offered comfort and heartache at the same time.

After a while, they slowly released their embrace, both trying to compose themselves. Kazuha looked up at Heiji, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you for understanding," she said softly

Heiji gently wiped away a tear from her cheek.

"I'll cherish every moment, Kazuha. And I'll make sure we have some unforgettable memories together."

With a faint smile, she nodded, trying to muster some courage.

"I'll support your decision, Heiji, even if it's hard for me. Just promise me one thing?"

Heiji nodded, his gaze fixed on hers, as he silently urged her to continue.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself until... until the end," Kazuha said, her voice quivering.

Heiji nodded solemnly. "I promise, Kazuha."

They shared a sad look, knowing things wouldn't be easy. Kazuha turned away, trying to hide her tears as she walked off. Leaving Hattori behind, feeling heavy-hearted as he watched her leave.

~~

Weeks turned into months, Heiji’s pain increased. Each passing day seemed to be a countdown to an uncertain finale.

One fateful evening while he was engrossed in reading a book on his bed, he suddenly felt an awful pain in his chest. He then sat up and he was startled when he threw up two whole flowers.

“What is this..?” He gently held the flowers in his hand and that’s when he realized, “Oh, my end is near, isn’t it? I can’t believe I have no one with me when I die.”

He sighed in relief, “Thank goodness, I guess?”

Just then, there was a knock on his door.

“Oh, how can I open the door in this state?” But despite feeling unwell, he managed to open it.

To his surprise, Shinichi and Kuroba were there.

‘Fuck.’

“W-what are you doing here?” Heiji asked, feeling the flowers rising in his throat again.

“What? I can’t visit my best friend?” Shinichi lightly slapped the other’s arm.

“No, I mean– “ He choked as he didn't know what to say. 

His best friend whom he has a crush on and the reason he is suffering just visited him with him.

At this point, he had a vague idea why Shinichi visited him along with Kuroba.

“Relax, Hattori. I’m just here to introduce my boyfriend.”

“Kuroba Kaito, nice to meet you. Shinichi has been telling me all about you.”

‘Oh. So they finally got together huh..’

He knew they weren't meant to be. He knew they had no chance together. He knew but still… 

The sight of his best friend with his boyfriend hurts him more than anything. More than a thousand needles. More than this pain he is experiencing. 

It hurts even more than this damned Hanahaki Disease.

“Can we come in?” 

Shinichi’s voice echoed through his ears, snapping him from his train of thoughts.

‘Oh shit.’

“Uh sorry no. Um, I'm actually waiting for Hakuba.” Heiji hated how he lied to his best friend but this is for the best.

“Oh?” They both raised their eyebrows. “You have a date with him?” Shinichi said with an obvious hint of amusement.

Heiji sighed, “It’s not like that. We just have something to talk about.”

“Sure, sure.” Shinichi smiled and Kaito chuckled.

Heiji almost coughed out petals if it weren’t for his self control.

“Well, enjoy your date then. We’ll be on our way.” Shinichi winked at him as he proceeded to grab Kaito’s waist as they walked away.

Heiji closed the door and immediately coughed out a bunch of petals, similar to the two flowers he last threw up.

His heart ached. 

That should've been him. The person next to Shinichi. That should've been him. The one Shinichi holds dear. That should've been him. The one that Shinichi would call “his”. That should've been him.

That could've been them.

“Fuck. I swear the world hates me so much. This wasn’t the last conversation I wished to have.”

But fate doesn't work that way.

They weren't soulmates.

They weren't star crossed lovers.

They weren't “meant-to-be”.

It wasn't supposed to be Shinichi and Heiji.

It was Shinichi and Kaito.

Slowly, he went to his room and coughed up even more petals. He could feel the flower roots reaching his lungs, making it harder for him to breathe.

‘icantbreatheicantbreatheicantbreatheicantbreathe’

“Is this really the end?” He sobbed.

His sobs got quieter and quieter as he also slowly stopped breathing.

Fate didn't let them meet to be together.

Fate let them meet to be just friends.

His last words were: “I love you, Shinichi. Please don’t forget me.” He said as he coughed out two whole flowers. A forget-me-not and a sweet pea*.

Ultimately, from the very beginning to Heiji’s end, they could only be friends.

Forget-me-not : true love memories, do not forget me Sweet pea : blissful pleasures, goodbye, thank you for a lovely time

[killerlookz]

Hiiii!

I saw your post about requesting for Joost, and idk if this is good but I'll try my best!(first time requesting something btw)

So, we all looooove some good jealousy prompts right?(or am I just weird?)

I saw some about reader being jealous and blah blah blah but how about a jealous Joost?

He isn't the type to be easily jealous he really isn't! He trusts you with his life! But... what if HE isn't enough?

He's on tour, away from you for months. He hates it but he loves it at the same time, on one side: his work is being seen, he's getting money, he's visiting other countries. But on other side... you're away from each other and it kills him.

So, one night, he just got back from a show, he showered on the hotel bathroom, he's drying his hair with a towel while he sees random stuff on insta, he sits on the fresh hotel bed when he sees one new story from you.

You're smiling and there's a friend of yours, smiling too, with a caption:"thanks for the amazing night (friend nickname) you're the best! ❤️"

And the two of you are at you favorite restaurant.

You did mentioned to joost that you were feeling lonely without him, that work was killing you and you wanted to go out... he is happy for you, of course, but... he just wishes it was HIM next to you on the photo, it was HIM that took you out. HIM that you were sending heart emojis to.

(Maybe reader and joost are dating or maybe you could do a friends to lovers on this one)

So, as soon as he's back, he's knocking on your apartment door.

He doesn't even waits, as soon as you open the door, he hugs you, he's all over you.

"Joost?! You're back already?? Oh I missed you too!"

You hug him back.

Joost lives this. This peace. This warmth. This love, his heart bursting with adoration, he wants to prove to you that he's the best, that no friend could ever replace him!

Sorry if this is not good! Anyway, thanks for even reading this!

a/n: omg thank you so much for this prompt anon! i looove a good detailed prompt, i think i stuck mainly to your request, i really only changed some dialogue to fit the story! side note... i had a lot of trouble formatting this for some reason, so hopefully this posts ok. tumbr is giving me grief lmao

Irreplaceable | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, Joost wins Eurovision (as he should), drinking, a singular dirty joke, allusion to smut if you squint, and hickies. alternating POVS, some dutch, mostly pet names (schat, lieverd, liefje), and small phrases (ik hou van jou= i love you, het spijt me= i'm sorry)

word count: 3,630

Your fingers sweep across the glowing keyboard of your phone. The intense bright white of the display in contrast with the dark of the restaurant that surrounds you makes you lower your eyes into a squint, the letters blurring before you.

Much needed night with my girl <3

You reposition the text to fit with the picture, a half-tipsy selfie you had taken just moments prior with your best friend, Anna. Your finger hovers over the "your story" button on the bottom left corner of your screen. You do one last scan of the photo, looking at the wide grins of you and your friend, you couldn't remember the last time you had seen yourself so happy.

You tap the button, deciding the photo is worthy to be seen by your whopping 400 Instagram followers.

"Did I look hot in that?" Anna's voice pulls you away from your phone, you place it face down against the white tablecloth in front of you. She's raising an eyebrow at you as her red lipstick coated lips curl into a smirk. She swirls a nearly empty glass of red wine in her hand.

"Of course," You grin, "When do you not?"

"Good point." She winks before raising the glass to her lips, finishing what was left in a single swig.

You'd been more than grateful for Anna taking you out tonight. Truth be told, the last few weeks had been bleak. They consisted mostly of you sitting at your kitchen counter, hunched over your computer doing work. Who knew working from home could be so stressful. You'd been completely swamped ever since a co-worker who had shared your position switched companies. Now you were stuck doing double the work for the same pay.

But maybe even worse than the stress of work was the loneliness of it. Taking a remote job had seemed ideal when you accepted the position, however, now you realized it was just like working any other office job without any of the human connection or interaction.

Your life hadn't always been this lonely, but you guessed that was the price you paid for living the city life, coupled with dating a musician.

Joost had been doing music since you met him a year and a half ago, and in that short amount of time, you never would have expected how huge he would have gotten. A summer hit in Germany and a fucking Eurovision win catapulted him into success.

Of course, you were more than proud of him, in fact, words couldn't even describe how happy you were for him. He deserved each and every fan, and each and every stream.

But being a musician meant being busy, and in particular, being on tour for weeks to months at a time.

Truth be told, during these last five weeks, Joost was on tour you had been living vicariously through videos posted online of his performances, desperately wishing you were in the crowd getting to watch him do what he loved every night. You would scroll intently in the isolating darkness of your apartment, at this point you had to have seen every angle of every single performance he'd done on tour thus far. It at least helped you feel a little less alone, watching how he smiled on stage, adoring the crowd, similar to the ways he had adored you.

You'd barely left the house since Joost had started touring, but you owed everything to Anna for forcing you out tonight. You were actually enjoying yourself.

A shadow looms over you, forcing you out of your thoughts. Your head whips to the side, and your waiter is standing over you

"Whenever you're ready." He places the black leather book in the middle of the table and nods as his lips press into a tight smile before walking away.

"Dinner's on me," Anna smiles slyly, her hand darting out and swiping the check from where it lay on the table. You can't say you're shocked by her offer, she had always been generous, but your heart is warmed by her kindness.

"Oh you don't have t-"

"Yes I do," She cuts you off. "This is your night out. Remember?"

"Thank you," You grin.

"Don't mention it," she opens the book, glancing down at the check, "Oh," She looks up at you, "Zoë asked if we want to meet her, Noor, and Hanna for drinks after this. They're at that bar a few blocks away. And seeing as I drank most of this bottle of wine, I reckon you need a few more drinks in you"

Your head bobs up and down, nodding, "More drinks sounds just about perfect right now."

Moments later the waiter is coming by again, taking the check off the table.

You look down at your phone on the table, flipping it over. The screen shines bright, revealing two notifications.

Joostklein liked your story

Joostklein replied to your story: have fun, liefje <3

A smile creeps onto your face and your chest swells with a warmth that both comforts you and stings at the same time. What you would give to have him here right now. Your thumb grazes over the screen, tapping the message to respond.

"C'mon y/n" Your head flings up at the sound of Anna's voice, "I got my card back, we should get going."

You nod, standing up from your seat, slipping your still open phone into the pocket of your jacket.

Joost lay on the stiff linens of a hotel bed. The lingering scent of his shampoo filled his nose as he took a deep breath, turning over his phone to check his notifications once again. Nothing.

It had been three hours and fifteen minutes since he noticed that you saw his response to your Instagram story, three hours and fifteen minutes since you saw his response and didn't respond.

He flips his phone back down, turning to his side, the pillow is damp against his face from his freshly washed hair. He closed his eyes and thought about that picture of you, how you smiled so wide, the way your eyes twinkled. He couldn't help but smile as he thought about it, it was almost like a reflex to him. Seeing you in such a state brought him an unexplainable warmth.

However, a part of him felt weird, a strange sense of yearning as he thought about the photo, Anna so close to you, the way you thanked her, complete with a heart. Part of him hoped that that was him taking you out to eat, him getting you to smile like that. But it wasn't, and it hadn't been him in a long time, and it wouldn't be, not for a while.

Of course, the two of you shared heartfelt messages with each other every day, and phone calls whenever you could. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as being right there with you in person. It was hard for him, and he knew it was hard for you too.

In an instant, he's thinking about the last phone call you shared, just yesterday, the way you'd broken down in tears to him, about your workload, about how isolated you'd been feeling. He tried to keep composed, but he knew that he was part of the reason you were crying, though you never outright blamed him. All he could do was gently coo to you on the other end of the phone, softly pleading with you to not cry, that you would be alright. Truth be told he wanted to curl up and die in that moment. He'd never forget the sound of your wavering voice, the way it cracked just before a desperate sob clawed its way out of your throat, "I just miss you so much."

Part of him wondered if you would ever get sick of this if one day you would wake up and realize you didn't want a boyfriend who was gone all the time.

He had no problem with you spending a night out with your friends, in fact, he was ecstatic that you seemed to be having a good time, it was the fact that he wasn't able to share that good time with you that led to the sinking feeling in his chest that he felt now. You having left him on seen had only added insult to injury. If he really thought about it, he'd much rather feel this jealousy than have you cooped up in your empty apartment all night.

He shook his head, rolling onto his side, damning himself for feeling so selfish right now.

He turned his phone over once more, and the time flashed in front of him, 1:47 AM. Fuck. It was later than he thought. His jealousy was completely replaced by worry, and his stomach flipped. Surely it was far too late for you to still be at dinner, you'd told him you'd text him when you got home.

Anxiety set in as he began to weigh his options, either he could call you and potentially disturb your night out, or not call you, leaving you unbothered, but leaving him worried about where you were. After all, what if something happened, he'd never forgive himself for not calling.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling his recent calls so he could call you. He swore he could hear his heart beating as the phone rang, once, twice, three, four times-

"Hmm hi mmbaby." Your words are sloppy on the other end, and for a moment Joost worries that he may have woken you up, until he clocks the combination of the stifled thumping of music, and screeches of laughter.

"Hoi schat, where are you?" His eyebrows furrow

"I am..." You trail off, "I am at a bar, like, i think. I think two blocks from the restaurant- wherever I was." You sigh.

"Are you drunk, lieverd, who's there?" Joost cringes at his words, silently cursing himself for his interrogative tone.

"Ummm... Maybe a little, or a lot" You giggle, "And um- Anna, duh, and... Hanna..." You pause to laugh for a moment, "Anna and Hanna," You repeat, obviously fascinated with the rhyme, "And Zoë and Noor."

"Okay," Joost sinks into the bed, relief washes over him when he recognizes the names of who you're with. "I don't want to bother, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." He's timid, it's unlike him to be so quiet, his words softly tip-toeing around his true feelings, feelings of how bad he wishes it could be him you were out with right now.

"Okay?" You repeat with more emphasis, "Not ok...I am great!"

"That's good to hear." He hopes his jealousy doesn't peak through his short words, it feels terrible, his stomach has tied itself up in knots and the guilt he feels for feeling this way strangles him.

He thought about the nights the two of you would go out drinking together, the way your eyes would light up when a song you liked played, you'd grip his hand tight, forcing him out up so he could dance with you. He'd always end up more drunk off his love for you than he did from the alcohol, no matter how much he drank. By the end of the night, like clockwork, the bartender would be shouting that it was last call, and Joost would stand at the bar, taking the remaining sips of his final drink. Your head would rest against his arm, eyes barely open. You'd complain your feet hurt from all the dancing you'd been doing, your voice thick with intoxication and exhaustion. As the two of you headed out, he'd let you climb on his back so he could carry you to wherever the pair of you were going. He'd love nothing more than to feel that now, to feel the comforting weight of your body against his back, to feel your arms wrapped around his neck, your head nuzzled against him, the warmth of your breath tickling the skin of his neck.

"I'm so happy," You state, and Joost can almost hear your smile through the phone. "M'so happy. Love my friends."

"Sounds like they're taking good care of you,"

"Yes, such such good care of me, don't you worry - they will have me back home in one piece."

"Goed, will you be home soon?"

"Mmmprobably, my feet huuuurt." You whine, causing Joost to let out a small chuckle, like clockwork, "Nngh- If only I had a tall, handsome, strong, dutch man, preferably one who is blonde and has a mustache and is also named Joost Klein to carry me home." You sigh loud and dramatically.

Your words sting, Joost knows you don't mean them to, but he can't help but feel a twinge in his chest at how badly he wishes he were the one taking you home.

"I'll carry you wherever you want when I get home, to make up for my absence, you won't have to walk a single step ever again."

Joost's face lights up hearing you giggle on the other end, but suddenly your laughter dies down, and you sigh once more,

"I think- I should go,"

"That's alright, get home safe, ik hou van jou"

"I love you t-,"

"Eyy," Joost cuts you off, "In Dutch."

"Ik hou ook van jou."

Joost <3: Flight was cancelled, I don't know when I'll be able to get on another, het spijt me, I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight.

It had been a whole eight weeks that Joost had been gone, and as you stared down at the text you just received, it felt like if you had were to spend one more second apart from him you might just explode.

Sure a cancelled flight may only delay you seeing your boyfriend for a few hours, maybe a day at most, you could still feel the tears welling up in your eyes. It already felt so late, you didn't want to wait anymore. You tilt your head back, blinking rapidly to fight the small droplets pooling in your waterline.

Your phone chimes again.

Joost <3: I'll see you soon, I promise, Oké?

You're barely able to read the message through your wet eyes before there's a knock at your door. You sniffle, and quickly dry your tears, confused at who would be knocking on your door at this time. You slowly rise up from your bed, walking with trepidation towards the door.

You press your chest up against the door, closing one eye tight to look through the peephole. As your gaze adjusts, you feel your heart slip down to you the stomach it couldn't be.

Quick, trembling fingers are racing to unlock the locks of your apartment door before flinging it open. It was.

There Joost was, standing before you. A grin plastered onto his face, he'd been holding something in each hand, a bouquet of flowers in one, a bottle of wine in the other, but still his arms were stretched out, inviting you in for a hug.

Before you can even think of a word to speak you're running into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso. The familiar warmth of his body heat fills your body.

He must be able to hear the sound of your heart from how loud its beating, or at the very least, feel its rapid pulses against his chest. You nuzzle your face against him, taking in the gentle scent of his cologne. It's so familiar, and inviting, and you feel nothing but overwhelming love as you let Joost overwhelm your senses.

"You don't know how much I've missed you." His kisses pause for a moment as he mumbles against your hair.

"I've missed you too," You strengthen your grip around his waist, "So much."

"Let me put this stuff down so I can give you a real hug, ok?"

You don't want to let go, not even for a moment, you'd spent far too long without him, and you feared if you let him go, even just for a second, he would disappear again. Reluctantly, you let your arms fall from his torso, sighing at the lack of warmth you feel as your body separates from his. He steps around you, leaning over to kiss your cheek as he passes you, "Stay here,"

"Huh?" You question, about to step forward to follow him into your apartment.

"No, no no- stay there." Joost quickly whips his head back around, moving towards the kitchen counter to place the wine and the flowers. He looks up and smiles before heading towards you.

His arms wrap around your lower back, beckoning for you to jump a little so you can put your legs around his hips and he can carry you. Once Joost had you steadily in his arms, he walked forward, letting go with one arm to quickly shut the door behind the two of you before placing it back around you once more.

"I told you, you wouldn't have to walk when I get back,"

"Hmm, won't have to or won't be able to?" You smirk as you push your body against his, laying your head on Joost's shoulder, he shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

"Such a dirty mind." He chastises

You place soft, passionate kisses against Joost's neck, slowly trailing up to his jaw, before eventually planting a kiss on his lips. He wastes no time in kissing you back, his lips hungrily going after your own. Your hands find your way into his hair, your nails softly scratching at his head as gently pull at the blonde strands.

Joost breaks the kiss so he can turn around, placing you on the kitchen counter. He stands in front of you, in between your legs, you wrap them around him in an effort to bring him closer to you. Your head flips to the side,

"Are these for me?" you pull at one of the flower petals with your thumb and pointer finger, feeling its soft velvety texture.

"Of course, and the wine. Well, I guess that's for us. I'll order us some takeaway, I know it's not as going out- but I promise I'll take you out tomorrow, I'll make up for every second I was gone," Joost's fingers gently grip your jaw, pulling you to face him. Your eyes meet his, deep and blue, filled with a light you missed all too well, "I'm sorry, liefje, for making you so lonely."

"You know that's not your fault." You tilt your head, pouting at his consolation. His words cut, how could he blame himself?

"It's okay if you say it is," His hand trails up your face, resting his palm against your jaw, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your cheek, "You can tell me."

You stare at him with wide eyes, your brain searching for the right words to properly convince him that he has done nothing wrong.

"No," You manage to whisper, "You don't know how happy it makes me to know you're performing every night, to know you're doing what you love."

"But if I wasn't gone all the t-"

"I wouldn't trade this situation for the world." You cut him off, staring at him intensely, hoping to communicate how deeply you mean your words.

"Okay," Joost concedes, his voice quiet, he was never one to fight you on things, "But one day, when I make enough money, I'll take care of you," He cranes his neck, planting a kiss against the opposite cheek of where his hand rests. The stubble of his facial hair is scratchy against your skin, in an oddly comforting way, it's familiar, and it reminds you of your close proximity. You sigh, drinking in the intimacy of the moment as his lips lower to your neck. He pulls away briefly, "You won't have to work another second and I'll take you everywhere with me."

A soft smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, and you cannot help the heat that floods your body as you picture your future together. It's a comforting picture, and it makes all the waiting, all the lonely nights worth it.

Your hand reaches out, tugging at the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, attempting to pull him even closer to you, like you wanted your bodies to intertwine, to fuse and become one so you'd never have to be without him again.

"I can't wait," Your words are short, your breath getting caught in your throat as Joost nips at your neck. His lips are soft, soothing the tingling pinch of his teeth against your skin.

His breath is hot, and each kiss is filled with an ardent longing. Warmth spreads through your stomach as his hand slips to the back of your neck, his fingers thread through the strands of your hair, before tugging gently, careful not to hurt you. But it is enough to make your breathing shaky and you wonder if you're even going to get to break open that bottle of wine anytime soon.

You hope he leaves a mark against your neck, you hoped he'd leave many. If you were in any space to talk, you'd speak up and tell him as much, begging for a pretty purple and red reminder of where he'd been.

As much as you ached for it, you didn't really need a mark to remind you of his love for you. You knew every word he spoke was true, how he'd make up for every second he spent without you, how as soon as he had the means to he'd provide fully for you. It was obvious, his love was warm, it was soft, it was something completely irreplaceable.

a/n: hiii!! wow my first time writing for Joost, I haven't written rpf in awhile, so i hope i did it justice! and thank you so much again anon for the request, i hope it is to your liking :-)

[trikaranos]

TRIKARANOS CHAPTER I: S·T·T·L

TRIKARANOS is a dramatized narrative based on ancient events following Crassus (and Pompey and Caesar) through the years 87-48 BCE. Intended for an adult audience.

⭐ Trikaranos will always be free to read. In the near future, you’ll have the option to support this comic & my ability to spend time making it (I Am Extremely Fucking Broke And Have Bills To Pay etc etc) through Patreon! currently, I have a tip jar!

⭐ There is no set update schedule (chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them)

⭐ alternative places to read it (coming soon!)

CREDITS all additional art used are in the public domain, and the specific images used are open access, etc

🍊the first collage panel is combination of: Plate 113: Greeks Battling the Trojans (from Ovid's Metamorphoses), Antonio Tempesta / The Trojans pulling the wooden horse into the city, Giulio Bonasone (after Francesco Primaticcio) / Terracotta hydria displaying Achilles waiting to ambush Triolos and Polyxena 🍊the second collage panel is: The Lictors bringing Brutus the bodies of his Sons, Jacques Louis David / the paint over of Brutus executing is own sons is my own work based on the composition of this relief of Brutus and condemning his sons to death. 🍊I also used my own art: a panel from the Prologue, and my own illustration of Brutus with the bodies of his sons

📖 PREVIOUS CHAPTER | START HERE | ToC (under construction!)

UNDER THE CUT creator’s commentary, ancient citations, whatever else seems relevant. ideally, this is optional! you shouldn’t need the citations for it to make sense as it unfolds since it’s a comic and a story first and foremost, but it’s here if you’re curious about something or want to see where the inspiration is coming from!

I'm so fucking normal about Crassus and his family (<<< this is a lie)

Marcus Crassus was the son of a man who had been censor and had enjoyed a triumph; but he was reared in a small house with two brothers. His brothers were married while their parents were still alive, and all shared the same table, which seems to have been the chief reason why Crassus was temperate and moderate in his manner of life. When one of his brothers died, Crassus took the widow to wife, and had his children by her, and in these relations also he lived as well-ordered a life as any Roman.

Plutarch, Crassus

like, it actively fucks me up that this is something that's survived about him for over 2,000 years. they all ate together at the same table. Jesus Christ.

so! Crassus' dad! Publius Licinius Crassus (consul 97) fought on the side of Cn. Octavius (consul 87) in the Bellum Octavianum, and it didn't go great for him.

Crassus: A Political Biography, B.A. Marshall

also. currently, if you look Publius Licinius Crassus up on wikipedia for an overview, his page lists his son (and also my main character for this comic) with the cognomen Dives, which is in-fucking-correct.

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

and to circle back to houses and meals shared with family, some citations that made me feel some kind of way when I read them

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

finally, there is discourse or whatever on the placement of the sons of Publius Licinius Crassus. Crassus is the baby brother here simply because I'm writing this story and I get to pick the themes, but also because no one has provided a solid enough argument for him being the second eldest son that I'm willing to buy into with enthusiasm, and I'm more inclined towards G. Sampson's conclusion on the matter.

Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae, and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson

and while I'm just kind of talking about stuff that I read that I enjoyed, this article by Martin Stone lives in my head rent free

A Year of One's Own: Dating the Praetorship of Marcus Crassus, Martin Stone

[redocity]

Buck as the eternal playboy but folding the second the reader hits on him back? Maybe corner him against a wall for funsies >:)

THE LONG GAME — E.BUCKLEY

flirting between friends was always fun, but sometimes it borders something that is definitely not platonic, and once that line is crossed, buck’s not sure he wants to go back to what you had before.

WARNINGS: 16+ for suggestiveness, alcohol, lots of flirting, chimney being a cockblock rip, buck is so sexually frustrated rip

evan buckley x gn!reader || ???? || 3.1k || requests open!

a/n: not me giggling over my own writing, how sad is that-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

Arguably the best part about your job was being able to celebrate a job well done.

That feeling of accomplishment after getting through a really tough call with nothing but a positive outcome.

The team never went half-assed on the celebrations, and you’re sure that the bar you all frequent post-shift knows you all by name by now from how often you all abandon your nights to spend an extra few hours in each other’s company.

That was another thing you loved about your job. The team. Your family.

You could spend 24 straight hours with them and they’d still make an excuse to spend a few more with everyone.

Today was no different. You rolled up to the bar in a tight-circle, eerily resembling the professional attitude you had to display during your work hours, one not yet shed considering it’d only been three-quarters of an hour since your shift ended.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, you’d all be too drunk to care about professionalism soon enough. Well except Bobby anyway.

You barely had time to walk through the front doors before Buck was running up to the bar to order everyone a round of drinks, a confident smirk etched on his face that only grew as the local news recounted the story of one of they day’s earlier calls with civilian footage.

“I wonder who that is,” He nudges your side as you walk over, cockiness washing all over his face as he nods up towards the TV hanging up by the ceiling. “They look pretty badass,”

You give him an almost dismissive hum as you pick up one of the glasses from the cluster to take a sip of the craft beer filling it. “I wonder,”

“Oh come on, you’re all over the news,” He gives you another small nudge. “You’re practically famous right now,”

He leans in towards you to talk over the music, reaching over to grab a pint glass of his own and clinking it animatedly against yours before taking a swig from it.

“He’s right you know,” Hen gives you nudge herself, joined by an enthusiastic thumbs up from Chimney behind her. “Own it,”

“Right? you pulled a whole superhero move,” Buck motions up towards the news broadcast again, where they are still replaying a clip of you kicking through a pane of reinforced glass on a high-rise from on top of the roof as an alternative method of entry to the collapsed stairwell on the inside.

“Sounds like you’re projecting Buckley, jealous?” You raise your eyebrow with an air of amusement as you take another swig from your glass.

“Absolutely not, in fact, I’m the opposite of jealous right now,” He leans in towards you again so that your shoulders brush together. “It was hot,”

“Okay horndog,” You roll your eyes at his comment, pushing away his face with the palm of your hand pressed to his forehead. “Keep it in your pants will you?”

He does nothing but laugh at the way you scold him, allowing you your personal space as he sits up straight once more.

Buck’s ability to flirt his way through any situation was honestly mildly impressive, how he managed to twist any situation into having a sensual undertone no matter what it was.

Last week it was Eddie carrying a sandbag into the station gym. The week before that it was the fact that Hen had cut a slice of lasagna for him instead of him doing it himself.

And apparently this week’s target was you. For jumping off a roof and shattering a glass window with your feet.

You’d question his taste if you didn’t know he was joking.

Although as the night went on and the table became increasingly cluttered with empty glasses, you started to question whether it was actually a joke.

Whether it was some quirk of his personality, or something more serious.

They say that drunk words are sober thoughts right? And Buck was definitely drunk and definitely spouting some choice words right now.

He whistles as you pot one of the striped balls on the pool table, his competitiveness all but disappeared underneath the haze that his alcohol consumption had laid over his brain. “Skilled with your feet and your hands? You’re just about every guy’s dream,”

He leans across the pool table to aim his shot, pool cue horribly aimed to the point where the cue ball barely skims the solid red ball he was aiming for. “Probably every girl’s dream too actually,”

“Instead of trying to kiss my ass, maybe you should focus on actually playing the game,” You genuinely can’t tell by this point whether his poor skills were an effect of the alcohol running through his system or if he was doing it on purpose just to get under your skin.

If there was one thing you did, it was play fair, and that included not letting your opponent give you an easy win.

“Oh how I would love to kiss that ass,” He makes an exaggerated show of leaning backwards to get a clear view, giving you another short whistle as you lean over the table to line up your next shot.

“Win the game and maybe i’ll let you,”

You swear you can see the moment his mind fractures, enunciated by another striped ball falling into one of the pockets and you lining up another shot.

He’s like a robot doing a hard reset, his eyes staring blankly at you like he physically cannot comprehend that you’d actually say something like that.

You don’t make your next shot, though whether by distraction from Buck’s eyes on the side of your face or your own drunken mistake you’re not entirely sure. Either way, when you straighten up to stand again, Buck hasn’t moved an inch.

“Go on, your turn,” You tap the side of his arm with your pool cue, amusement washing over your features as you watch him physically jolt from the contact and shake his head as if to physically shake off what you’d said to him.

Who knew such a casanova would get so flustered when someone played along with his little flirting game.

He ended up losing of course, you were far too much ahead for him to have a chance of catching up before you potted the eight ball and took the game, and you could swear there was a trace of disappointment in his eyes, and not because of the four solid colour balls still left on the table.

He didn’t even glance at them.

No, instead he kept his eyes firmly locked on you as you gloated your win.

“Now that is something to celebrate,” You lay your cue on the table with a victorious smirk. “Better luck next time I suppose,”

Your cockiness continues to flourish as you pot the remaining balls into the pockets and take Buck’s pool cue from him to lay it next to yours. “So what’s my reward then?”

”I- What?” He blinks at you a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as his mind tries to catch up to the conversation.

“Well we laid out what would happen if you won, so what do I get for actually winning?” You tilt your head to the side as you take a step towards him, arms crossed over your chest with your eyebrow raised. “Surely I deserve to be rewarded, no?”

“I can uh…I can buy you a drink…” Buck pursed his lips together, dry swallowing as he leant backwards against the pool table upon your approach. He honestly didn’t know what was coming over him. Why was he so ruffled under the collar about this?

This was his prime domain, so why was it the second that you mirrored his interest he shut down and started backtracking on himself like a highschooler?

“I think we’ve had enough drinks don’t you?” You take another step forward as he sits on the edge of the table, essentially boxing him in despite there being very easy escape points at both his right and his left. “Besides, I want to be sober enough to remember this tomorrow,”

What on earth did you mean by that?

God he felt pathetic right now, a 6’2, 220lbs man being boxed in against a pool table of all things by one of his extremely attractive coworkers because you’d had a sudden streak of confidence and decided to flip his advances back on himself.

“Uh…” He gives a small, half awkward chuckle as his eyes flicker to consciously remain focused on your own eyes and not fall downwards. He knew the uniforms were tight but god did he not notice how tight they were until he was having to physically restrain himself from looking further down. “Right well- uh- what do you want then..?”

Buck watched as your eyes left his to flicker downwards, not so far down that you were staring at his chest, but just far down enough that he could tell you had your attention on a part of his face that was not his eyes.

He’d blame the bright red of his cheeks on the drinks if you asked about it, but you seem far too enamoured by the way he nervously purses and bites his lips under your gaze to even so much as glance at anything else.

“You know what I want..?” You break your staring to meet his eyes again, although you still make the time to turn your eyes down to his mouth again during the breaks between words.

He swears you’re leaning in with every word, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t leaning in himself, a sharp, stuttered breath escaping his lips as you get close enough so your breath fans across his cheeks. “I think so…”

You give a small hum at his answer, lips quirking into a smile as you narrow your gaze and tilt your head slightly to the left so that your noses don’t bump together as you bring your faces within an inch of each other.

His lips part on instinct, breathing a whisper of air into your mouth as he anticipates the contact with closed eyes.

“I want you to stop drinking my orange juice,”

The tension in his shoulders seems to drop at your statement, and his eyes shoot back open as you pull yourself back to stand fully upright, absolute delight drenching your features as you read the waves of shock and dissatisfaction that roll over him at the sudden change in atmosphere. “What?-”

He was so close. So close to having your lips on his. And you ripped it away from him with that stupidly hot smirk on your face like you knew exactly what you were doing.

You definitely knew what you were doing.

“In the station, I know it’s you,” You explain yourself like it’s no big deal, like you weren’t centimetres from giving Buck what he’d been pining for for so goddamn long a few seconds ago. “Buy your own juice,”

“I- Seriously?” Exasperation practically drowns his voice as he speaks, and he narrows his gaze with an air of desperation that makes you want to give him exactly what he wants. “You pretend you’re going to kiss me and then tell me not to drink your goddamn orange juice? Not cool man,”

“Maybe you shoulda won the game, I don’t know what to tell you,” You shrug your shoulders with an air of nonchalance that only you would be able to muster in a situation like this, and it frustrates Buck beyond all belief.

“That’s not fair,” Buck shakes his head as he stands. “I didn’t know you were being serious,”

“Well that’s just too bad isn’t it?” You clasp your hands together with a tilt of your head.

“No, we’re not just gonna move on okay?” It’s Buck’s turn to approach you now, his hands emphasising his words as he waves them in front of himself. “I have waited so long for you to suggest you were interested in me you cannot just back out like nothing happened,”

You swerve his approach with a laugh to walk around the side of the pool table, like his frustration is the funniest thing in the world to you and not literally tearing him apart with every moment you try to brush off the lingering tension between you. “You are way too pent up about this,”

“I am the exact right amount of pent up about this,” He follows you around the table to box you in as you did him, except this time there’s really no escape as he plants his hands firmly against the edge of the table on either side of you. “You can’t just lean in like you’re going to kiss me and bail right at the last second,”

“I thought you liked the long game,” You cross your arms over your chest as a deflection from the way your heart rate quickens, trying to cover the increase in how fast your chest rises and falls under the gaze he’s trapped you in.

“I’ve played long enough,” He leans his weight on his arms, bringing his face towards yours slowly. “I need to know if I’ve won,”

“I’d say so,” Your eyes are much less confident now the roles have been reversed, struggling to maintain contact with his as his face continues its steady path towards your own.

“Prove it.” You’re close enough now that you can feel the breath from every word he speaks on your skin, and his intentions are laid out very clearly as his gaze falls from your eyes to your lips.

He is going to kiss you if you don’t do anything to stop him.

He wants to taste the mix of alcohol on salt on your lips, explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He wants to feel the heat of your palms against his cheeks as you cup his face to stop him from pulling away and make you kiss him until neither of you can breathe.

He’s waited long enough to have you like this, and after your previous stunt, he’s not sure he can physically last much longer before he explodes from the frustration.

The way his hands slide from resting on the table either side of you to holding your hips solidifies that point tenfold.

He gives your waist a soft tug until your torso collides with his, and you have to brace your hands against his shoulders to stop yourself from losing your balance and stumbling right into him.

And then he’s leaning in again, his eyes flickering over your expression to look for any trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your features before he makes the final move.

And then there’s a shot glass between your faces.

“Shots?”

Chimney, ever horrible at reading the room —probably because he’s so drunk he can barely stand upright anymore— holds up two shots towards the two of you, one in each hand. “They’re on me~” He adds that extra part at the end as the true selling point, and it takes all of Buck’s self-restraint to not knock the glasses out out Chimney’s hand to make him leave the two of you alone.

You don’t seem so agitated.

“Why thank you,” You break from Buck’s grasp to take one of the shots from Chimney’s hand, raising it in Buck’s direction. “Here’s to playing the long game,”

You down the shot quickly, leaving the empty glass on the edge of the pool table to rejoin the group at the bar, leaving Buck alone and so goddamn sexually frustrated he genuinely thinks he might pass out from the strain.

You know exactly what you’re doing by dragging this out, and he has half the mind to prove your idea of ‘safety’ from his advances in the group wrong by sending his conscience to hell and giving in to his inhibitions in front of everyone.

But he’s not quite drunk enough to push it that far. Even if most of the team wouldn’t remember it if he did.

“So that’s a no on the shot?” Chimney raises the remaining shot glass in Buck’s direction, seemingly completely oblivious to the colossal cockblock he’d just imposed.

“If you weren’t so drunk right now I would punch you I swear-” Buck huffs as he all but snatches the glass from Chimney’s hand and downs the shot in exasperation, the sharp burn in his throat doing nothing to distract him from the ache in his chest from having a possible moment from you ripped from underneath his nose again in the span of less than ten minutes.

“Woah, what did I do?” Chimney furrows his eyebrows in offence at Buck’s statement. “We’re supposed to be family man, last time I buy you anything,” He scoffs in indignation as he leaves Buck to join the rest of the group once more, clearly unhappy with Buck’s reception to his ‘gift’ of a free shot.

A free shot and a missed shot at finally making a move on you.

He knew that come your next shift you’d ignore everything that had happened tonight, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to the silent glances and subtle gestures. He wanted all of you, not just some aimless flirting that never went anywhere.

At least he had confirmation that you were in fact interested in him, that was a step forward in the right direction he supposes.

But god was the long game starting to get on his nerves.

[oshikasa]

so like… lqq and his little guy assistant ✨

i love this donghua-exclusive guy so much!! on twitter a fan name that has been circling around in the community is “xiao mengyou” (it’s more of a title but it’s sort of slowly just becoming his name), and i’ve just been doing a lot of thinking between these two..

it’s nice for lqq to have a supporter like him (if you don’t know, this nameless character has appeared by lqq’s side in multiple episodes, both in the past since lqq was 12 AND he’s the junior official that runs after lqq after he forgot his waist badge in the first episode of season 2. he’s been by lqq’s side for 500 years)

my personal thoughts and characterizations about mengyou and lqq below cut

i’m actually writing a fic and having a lot of fun with it, i have two other fic wips that have been in progress for MONTHS but it’s hualian and fengqing so i’m way wayyy harder on the characterization in those fics even tho both of them are alternative universes, so i’m not willing to post those unfinished. for this one tho, mengyou is essentially an OC, so i’m thinking about posting the first chapter soon even if the fic isn’t nearly close to done (why do i insist on writing long ass fics when i don’t rly finish them.. is a mystery)

i characterize xmy as extremely loyal and prideful to be lqq’s longtime assistant and right hand man, but he also has some intense self deprecating issues where he views himself as a servant and ONLY that. even tho lqq expresses (mutual) feelings for xmy, xmy feels he isn’t worthy, and pushes him away. lqq is too young and inexperienced to grasp his feelings fully as well, so he lets xmy push him away bc he too isn’t sure if it’s right.

when lqq’s worldview crashes in the fangxin guoshi arc, he goes MIA in the story until mt. tonglu reopens bc he’s hunting qi rong, and he doesn’t trust anyone. i’d imagine this would hit xmy hard bc he’s been by his side since forever, and lqq, who used to respond to anyone’s messages regardless of rank as soon as possible, has probably ghosted his junior officials and xmy since he disappeared. good room for angst, lqq’s opinion of xmy is probably wavering bc he probably doesn’t trust him either, bc xmy encouraged him to protect the xianle residents after the golden banquet massacre, and also bc lqq is just unstable and tunnel-visioning after he finds out the truth. add that with their confusing feelings for each other and there’s so much room to write about!

[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[mononijikayu]

ashes of love — ryomen sukuna.

there was never one more devout to anyone than ryomen sukuna was to ryomen hiromi. he obeyed no one than his lady. before he was a king, he was devout follower. he had at one point had a goddess to worship.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining;

masterlist

note: this is a side story to us and them, which i am working on and will publish again soon~ i have to edit it too!!! despite the fact that our main character is now given a name, i'll be using the terms you, she/her and hiromi's name to try and tell the story as a little bit more flexibly~ posting this and coming back with the upcoming chapter next weekend!!! thank you~

the ryomen double heron

"Famine ravaged all through the land then," Hiromi began, elegant voice carrying the weight of history, "People were dying from hunger. The water wells were in drought. It was then that two herons appeared before Ryomen Shigemitsu, leading him to the people in need. Famine stopped with time, and the people welcomed him. His legacy is this on that flag above us."

Sukuna listened intently, his gaze fixed on Hiromi's face. There was pride in the way you spoke. You smiled ever so gently. To Sukuna, you were beautiful like this. He could see the light in your eyes that he wants to keep there for all your life.

"The double heron has been a symbol of resilience and compassion for generations," Hiromi continued, eyes alight with reverence for her family's legacy. "And now, it's up to us to uphold that legacy—to be beacons of light in the darkness, just as Shigemitsu- sama was all those years ago."

Sukuna felt his mind wander to thoughts of his own identity. He felt like a stranger in this world, a creature of darkness amidst the light of Hiromi's noble lineage. His mother's words echoed in his mind, reminding him of his supposed destiny—to fail, to disappoint, to be a monster. He was a creature of horrors. His face falls flat to contorted darkness.

Lost in his thoughts, Sukuna's gaze fell to the ground, his heart heavy with doubt and uncertainty. He fears he would fail you. He fears he would bring ruin to you and to the Ryomen. He was a curse, a curse and he couldn't understand how he could be honorable as you. But before he could spiral further into despair, Hiromi's gentle hand reached out, flicking his forehead lightly.

"Hey, don't overthink it," You said with a warm smile, bright eyes filled with kindness. For a moment, he wonders what he did in his life to deserve how you treated him in your life. "You're not alone, Sukuna. I believe in you."

Sukuna's eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at your words. He had never dared to hope that someone like Hiromi could have faith in him, could see beyond the darkness that seemed to define his existence.

"But… I…" he stammered, at a loss for words.

Hiromi's head shakes lightly, your smile unwavering. "No buts," you insisted. "I know you're capable of great things, Sukuna. You're not defined by your past or your fears. You have the power to forge your own destiny, and I'll be here every step of the way, cheering you on."

In that moment, Sukuna felt a glimmer of hope ignite within him, dispelling the shadows of doubt that had clouded his mind. With Hiromi's unwavering belief by his side, he felt a newfound sense of purpose stirring within his soul—a determination to rise above his fears and prove himself worthy of her faith.

And as they sat together beneath the moonlit sky, Sukuna made a silent vow to himself—to stand tall, to fight against the darkness, and to make Hiromi proud.

Records and History of the Ryomen Clan

an ode to my mother, lady hiromi of the ryomen clan.

to my descendants, read carefully and thread carefully.

this is for your eyes to seek only, descendant of hiromi.

do not let this fall in ryomen sukuna's hands.

mikoto masuyo.

両面 of Hida Province

bound to serve, further and beyond.

household of ryomen isamu

: ̗̀➛ his lady wife, fujiwara akiko

: ̗̀➛ his daughter and heir, ryomen hiromi

: ̗̀➛ his eldest and deceased son, ryomen akimu

: ̗̀➛ the lord's brother, ryomen hiramu

: ̗̀➛ adopted son of hiramu, ryomen sukuna

: ̗̀➛ retainer and heir of the mikoto clan, mikoto masaomi

there is no certainty of who ryomen sukuna was before he met lady hiromi. but it was certain that he had found a purpose to live in that moment. he lived to serve his goddess.

You reached out your hand to his.

His eyes blinked.

You smiled at him tenderly.

"Are you alright, young one?"

In that fleeting moment, the boy found himself captivated by the tender lady's presence. You seemed to radiate an ethereal aura, your every essence imbued with a sense of otherworldly beauty. The soft glow of the lanterns bathed your features in a warm, gentle light, casting an enchanting halo around your form.

And then there were your eyes—pools of warmth and compassion that drew him in, their depths revealing a wellspring of kindness and understanding. In those moments when your gazes met, he felt as though you could see straight through him, peering into the depths of his soul with an unwavering sense of empathy.

It was a moment suspended in time, a fleeting encounter that left an indelible mark on his heart. In that moment, long before he knew Hiromi's name, he saw not just someone above him, but a guiding light—a beacon of hope in his world shrouded in darkness. And as he reached out to take your hand, he knew that this chance meeting would forever alter the course of his destiny.

"What's your name?"

He did not reply.

You smiled wider at him.

"It's okay if you have no name."

He looks up to you, eyes widened.

"I'll give you one."

SCROLLS OF RECORDS, IN ORDER;

➛ night flower

— sukuna knows, even thousands of years later, that he would recognize you even in stone. ➛ the night we met

— when you smiled at him, he thinks he found heaven. monsters like him do not deserve heaven. yet the goddess you were, embraced him in the warmth of tender night.

➛ a walk — sukuna realized that you don't sleep as well as you wanted. you were plagued with nightmares, ones he can never truly know. yet sukuna thinks, the monster he is robs you of those nightmares at times, when he stands by your side under the moonlight.

➛ too sweet

— in that moment, he thinks he understood it very well. you deserve someone as sweet as you. one that would love you better than he could. but he knew he was addicted to your sweet taste. he liked things bitter, he liked things as they are. but not with you. never with you. ➛ water is fine

— hiramu is right, if he's thinking about it. blood may be thicker than water, but sukuna need only close his eyes and they'd feel the same. he had never known to belong before. he didn't know how to express it all. but being a ryomen is all he had. you were all he had. even if you'll never belong to him. the water is fine, so long its with you. ➛ as the world caves in

— sukuna doesn't know what to do as he knelt beside you, wrapping your weary around your shaking legs. nor does he know how to dry your tears. the rain kept pouring, crying for him the tears he can't shed. and he remained with you, he remained despite all you had lost to the flames of cruelty. ➛ hongyeon

— ryomen sukuna knew that he had to survive here. to cultivate all his hatred, his anguish, his grief; just so he can return to you. there was no other choice. he needs to be the monster that he'd always been, he needs to be the cruel beast. he needs to be strong. he needs to protect you. so you would never suffer again. ➛ akuma no ko

— even with tears in your eyes, you still were still spring. yet he would never be able to put it into words. even if these words could be translated to life, they would never capture the true meaning wouldn't be conveyed: i'll still love you in every cruel world. you sobbed. and he walked away, a child of evil, tearing you apart whole. ➛ demonyo

— sukuna thinks that you were just pure creature who fell from the heavens and was lost in hell with him. even after all this time, even as you had grown older, you still wanted to meet him. even if he tried to lead you out of it, you would never leave. the demon he is, he could never escape his love for you either. as much as you would never escape your love for him. over and over, he believes it as much as you probably do. he will ways fall in love with you over and over again. ➛ a red winter

— sukuna does not understand how you could still smile at him after all these years had passed. but he thinks he'll remember this all his life. the way the snow melted against your mortal skin, the way your blood melted against it. he wanted to look forward to spring with you, like all those years ago. but you knew, as he knew, there will never be a chance like that again. ➛ bu wang

— hundreds of years come and go and he's frozen in time. he still yearns and yearns, looking for you in every corner. wondering if the gods could return you to him. even if the gods hate him, ryomen sukuna keeps asking. in this lonely city, this place, and he is waiting, and he stays. stays. and he does not want to forget. never you.

➛ the moon during the day

— ryomen hiromi's purple eyes widened at the sight of the world burning all around them. the way he stood before you, the twist of cruel fate was like hell. he looked as he did, when you were both young. this is your hell, you realized. a thousand years, countless lives apart. his wish came true. he said he would follow you to whichever hell it was, so long as it was with you.

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 2

“Oh, sweetie, it’s so good to see you!” Lando’s mom, Cisca, squeals as she envelopes Natalie into a tight hug. The genuine warmth in Cisca's embrace reflects the affection she holds for Natalie.

“Yeah, we’ve really missed having you around.” Flo, Lando’s sister, adds, joining in the familial welcome. Natalie reciprocates the affection by folding her arms around Lando’s younger sisters, Flo and Cisca. The bond between them feels like a continuation of the family connection they've built over time.

“I think she’ll be around more often now.” Lando informs his family, a hint of assurance in his voice. Cisca shoots Lando a questioning look, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

“I will be, I promise. I think you still owe me horse riding lessons.” Natalie concedes with a playful smile as she turns to Flo, acknowledging the young equestrian champion in the making.

The hotel suite is filled with joy and laughter as the Norris family re-welcome Natalie into its folds. The atmosphere is warm and familial, creating a scene that, to an outsider, might seem like a heartwarming reunion with in-laws rather than colleagues.

The night unfolds with shared moments of connection, laughter echoing through the room as they engage in spirited rounds of board games. The camaraderie extends beyond the professional realm, transcending the roles of F1 driver and PR manager. The familial bond they've built over time becomes more apparent with every smile and shared joke.

As dinner is enjoyed together, the sense of togetherness deepens. The suite becomes a haven of shared stories, genuine laughter, and a comforting sense of belonging. The familial embrace is not limited to blood ties, and Natalie finds herself enveloped in the warmth of the Norris family's acceptance.

As the night progresses, the exhaustion from a day filled with laughter and connection takes its toll. Natalie, finding a moment of comfort on the couch, succumbs to sleep. Lando, ever considerate, chooses the floor beside her with her hand resting gently on his chest, a silent testament to the unspoken bond that has grown between them. The hotel suite, once a space for family, fun and joy, now cradles the gentle stillness of a shared moment as they rest side by side.

- THE NEXT DAY -

“Job well done today, Lando. What are your goals for the race tomorrow?” The interviewer asks Lando post-Qualifying.

“The usual, really. We’re hoping for a good result tomorrow, possibly a win if we’re able to capitalise on the pace we showed today.” Lando responds, still slightly breathless due to the run from the garage to the media pen.

“Let’s get some fan questions.” The interviewer encourages and soon hands are flying up as the fans burn to ask Lando their questions.

“Who is here supporting you this weekend?” A young fan manages to squeal into the microphone the interviewer hands him.

“I have my family here this weekend, so I'm quite excited to perform well with them watching.” Lando sweetly responds to the young fan.

“There are rumours online that you have a girl here this weekend. Will she be watching from the garage?” A teenage girl asks Lando excitedly.

“Uh, no.” Lando hesitates before he regains his composure. “There’s no girl here this weekend.”

Lando finds himself increasingly anxious when faced with questions about his love life. The life of an F1 driver already comes with immense pressure, but the added scrutiny on his romantic relationships intensifies the stress. The expectation to have a glamorous partner by his side for public appeasement is an unspoken demand, and this season, the intensity of inquiries about his personal life reaches unprecedented levels.

Interview after interview, it seems there's hardly a moment without a probing question about his romantic entanglements. Lando, inherently private about his personal life, detests these inquiries and the unwanted intrusion into his private affairs. The constant spotlight on his love life becomes a source of discomfort and distraction from his racing focus.

Recognising Lando's unease, Natalie, his astute PR manager, has raised the concern with the management team. Together, they strategize to alleviate the pressure on Lando during interviews. The proposal includes reaching out to media outlets to request a ban on questions related to his romantic life. The goal is to create a boundary that allows Lando to maintain his privacy and redirect the focus back to his achievements on the track.

- THE NEXT DAY -

“Thank you for stopping by. I just wanted to briefly discuss a proposal with you.” Charlotte, head of communications and PR for McLaren, states as Lando joins her, Natalie, and Zak in the small conference room above hospitality.

“Sure, what’s up?” Lando asks, interested to hear what Charlotte had to say.

“As you know, the media has been trying very hard to draw blood from a stone when it comes to your love life. So, we think we may have a solution to that.” Zak begins.

“We are hoping you would agree to a fake relationship with an up and coming Portuguese model, Raquel Perrera. You’ll have the safety net of having a girl by your side on race weekends, shutting the media down, and she has the benefits that come with dating a F1 driver.” Charlotte continues.

“So, a fake relationship?” Lando clarifies.

“Correct.” Zak confirms.

Lando studies the faces of the people seated in front of him, their expressions revealing a mixture of anticipation and curiosity. His gaze eventually turns to Natalie, his trusted PR manager. The proposal catches him off guard, and while he's not entirely against the idea, he senses the weight of the decision.

Natalie, on the other hand, maintains a neutral face, concealing her emotions behind a carefully crafted expression. Internally, she is appalled by the idea of orchestrating a fake relationship for Lando. The concept contradicts her principles of transparency and authenticity, elements she values in managing Lando's public image.

The silent exchange between Lando and Natalie reflects their unspoken understanding. Lando contemplates the potential benefits of the proposal, primarily in alleviating the constant scrutiny on his personal life. Natalie, however, grapples with the ethical implications and the potential impact on Lando's credibility.

“Natalie, what do you think?” Charlotte inquires.

“No way.” Natalies quickly responds leaning onto the table in front of her. “That would be too obvious. They’ve never been seen together, nor have they interacted in any way, shape, or form. It would take ages to soft launch the relationship and he would just be peppered with the same questions every week. I don’t think it would work. The fans will see right through it and could cause more scandal than anything else.”

Natalie's immediate and firm rejection of the proposal reveals her astuteness in understanding the intricacies of managing Lando's public image. Her objections extend beyond personal discomfort; she sees the potential pitfalls in attempting to orchestrate a fake relationship with Raquel Perrera. Her analysis highlights the importance of authenticity in navigating the delicate balance of fame and public perception.

Charlotte sits back, realising they may have jumped too quickly with their proposal. Zak looks defeated, desperate to find a solution that could make Lando’s life slightly easier.

“Lando? What are your thoughts?” Zak asks him.

“Honestly, I’m not against it, but I have to agree with Nattie on this. It would be so far-fetched when I know nothing about her.” Lando responds.

Lando's honesty echoes Natalie's concerns about the lack of authenticity in the proposed plan. His reservations stem from a desire to maintain a genuine connection with his public image. The room remains enveloped in a contemplative atmosphere, grappling with the realisation that the initial proposal might not be the solution they had hoped for.

As Lando explains his thoughts, Charlotte’s expression softens as she watches Lando glance at Natalie every so often as he speaks.

“What about Natalie?” Charlotte pips.

“I’m sorry?” Natalie quickly questions her boss.

“You two get on well. You’re together pretty much all the time. Wouldn’t that be the perfect cover?” Charlotte explains. “You know each other well enough and are comfortable around each other.”

Silence hits the room as Natalie and Lando gaze at each other, each waiting for the other to answer. The unexpected suggestion hangs in the air, creating a palpable tension. The proposal challenges the boundaries of their professional relationship and introduces a dynamic that neither of them anticipated. The weight of the decision rests on the unspoken understanding between Natalie and Lando, leaving the room in suspense as they grapple with the implications of Charlotte's proposition.

“With all due respect, I don’t think that will work either.” Natalie states. “A relationship, fake or not, between the two of us would be a direct breach of our Code of Conduct.”

“We can make an exception. We can draw up paperwork or something to make it seem legitimate.” Zak adds.

Natalie sits back, folding her arms over her chest, not sure what to say. The room lingers in a moment of tension as the suggestion challenges the boundaries of professionalism. Lando's eyes remain fixed on Natalie, studying her, perhaps trying to gauge her thoughts and emotions in the midst of this unexpected proposal.

“I have to agree. It makes sense, sure. But, that brings a whole new list of problems. Fans would be coming after her like crazy and we’d be accused of being unprofessional.” Lando explains.

“Of course, I’m sorry. We’re just trying to find a way to make it easier for you to do these interviews. I’ll see if I can ban any personal questions in the meantime so we can think of something else.” Charlotte apologises, acknowledging the complexity of the situation and expressing a commitment to finding an alternative solution.

Charlotte and Zak leave the room after a few minutes of discussion, leaving Lando and Natalie to brew in an awkward silence. The atmosphere becomes charged with tension, and both struggle to maintain eye contact.

“Lando.” Natalie starts, but Lando interrupts her.

“You’re right, a fake relationship will just cause more trouble than good.” Lando states as he gets up and glances down at her still seated.

“We’ll find a way to get them to stop asking, I promise.” She assures him before he heads out to his race.

As Lando leaves the room, Natalie is left with a mix of relief and lingering tension, aware that the delicate balance of managing Lando's public image continues to pose challenges.

A small part of Lando feels disappointed and rejected. The swift dismissal of the idea by Natalie stirs a sense of disappointment in him. He recognizes that she may not have given the proposal proper consideration, and a subtle feeling of rejection lingers. Despite understanding the potential pitfalls, there's a fleeting sense of what could have been—a solution to ease the relentless pressure on his personal life.

Natalie, on the other hand, hates the sinking feeling in her chest. She knows that she could have potentially offered a solution to Lando's biggest problem, but her commitment to professional ethics and a sense of transparency prevails. The idea of a fake relationship goes against her principles, even though she acknowledges the potential relief it could bring to Lando.

- AFTER THE RACE - 

Natalie sits quietly in her seat, her eyes fixed on the race unfolding before her. The air is thick with anticipation as the cars zoom around the track. However, her keen observation reveals that Lando seems distracted. Silly mistakes punctuate his performance, and the Ferrari relentlessly trails him around every corner on the last lap.

As the race reaches its climax, tension builds. The Ferrari seizes an opportunity and overtakes Lando on the final straight, securing the win as they navigate the last corner. The disappointment is palpable as Lando finishes in second position once again. The roar of the crowd and the cheers for the victor only serve to amplify the quiet frustration that lingers in the McLaren pit.

Natalie watches, her expression reflecting a mix of concern and understanding. She knows the weight that each race carries for Lando, and the disappointment in falling short of victory is a shared sentiment.

“That’s P2, mate. P2.” Jon, Lando’s race engineer, calls over the radio.

“Absolute shit.” Lando mumbles back over his radio.

The crew sighs with disappointment, but they still rush out to congratulate Lando on his second position. Natalie, aware of the impending media scrutiny, stays behind. Her phone immediately starts flooding with messages, signaling the onslaught of media questions Lando can expect once he gets to the media pen.

In the quiet aftermath of the race, Natalie prepares herself to manage the upcoming barrage of inquiries, shielding Lando from the immediate aftermath of disappointment. The pit buzzes with a mix of subdued chatter and the distant cheers of the victorious team. Lando's frustration is palpable, and Natalie readies herself to navigate the delicate post-race interactions with the media.

Lando returns to the garage after taking to the podium for his champagne celebrations and walks right to his driver’s room. Natalie follows him as she attempts to prepare him for his media debriefing. She runs him through some of the questions, but he merely grunts in response.

“Well done on P2, Lando. So close to that first F1 win. What happened out there on that last lap?” Jenson Button, the interviewer, asks Lando, the disappointment evident in his question

“It’s disappointing to say the least. And, frustrating. I don’t really know what happened, just stupid mistakes on my part. Braking too soon, I suppose.” Lando shrugs off the answer, visibly agitated and over the whole media session.

“That first win is so well within your grasp. What’s the next step to get you on that winner’s podium?” Jenson continues to ask.

“Just have to keep our heads down and keep pushing.” Lando bluntly responds.

“Any plans to relax and rewind tonight before heading to Australia later this month?” Jenson queries, changing the topic.

“Nothing special at the moment, we’ll see what the mood is like after debriefing.” Lando is stoic with his response.

“Hopefully the ladies can show you some love tonight to get your spirits up.” Jenson teases Lando with a light jab in the shoulder.

Lando grows visibly frustrated throughout the interview and before he can respond to the interviewer’s last statement, Natalie steps in, recognising the need to manage the situation and shield Lando from further agitation.

“Thank you for your questions. Please remember to refrain from making personal statements or asking personal questions in the future. That’s all for tonight. Thank you again.” She bluntly states before following Lando out of the media pen and back to his driver’s room.

The weight of guilt intensifies within Natalie. The frustration and discomfort Lando experienced during the interview only serve to amplify her sense of responsibility. As they retreat from the media scrutiny, the unspoken acknowledgment of the challenges in managing Lando's public image remains. The delicate balance between personal ethics and professional obligations becomes more apparent, leaving Natalie to grapple with the uncharted territory of their evolving relationship and the unspoken possibilities that linger beneath the surface.

“Why do they feel the need to know everything all the time?” Lando snaps once she closes the door behind her. “When did they become so entitled to the point where they need to know who I’m seeing and what I’m doing?”

The frustration in Lando's voice resonates, highlighting the relentless scrutiny that comes with fame in the Formula 1 world. Natalie understands the weight of the questions, the intrusion into his personal life, and the toll it takes on his mental and emotional well-being. In the silence that follows, she becomes a silent witness to the internal struggle he faces, torn between the demands of public life and the desire for privacy.

“As if I didn’t have a shit enough race, they feel the need to rub it into my face that I am single and have no one here to motivate me.” He continues.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Natalie sternly intervenes causing him to pause and look at her, his eyes widening just a tad. “When did you start caring about what others say or think about you?”

Natalie’s question hangs in the air, a gentle reminder that external opinions should not dictate his worth or define his identity. Her stern tone conveys a protective stance, shielding him from the unnecessary burden of societal expectations.

“So, you’re single. Great. Live your life, go out, go party, go hook-up with some random girls. You have nothing tying you down. Let them enjoy that, let them keep speculating, let them keep your name trending without any cause or facts. Your relationship status does not define who you are.” Natalie continues, exhausted and breathless.

Her words resonate with a sense of liberation, an insistence that Lando should not allow external perceptions to dictate his actions or self-worth. The exhaustion in her voice carries the weight of witnessing someone she cares about being affected by the incessant scrutiny. In this moment, Natalie transcends her role as a PR manager, becoming a confidante and a voice of reason for Lando, encouraging him to embrace the freedom that comes with being unburdened by societal expectations.

"And, there are plenty of people here to motivate you and support you." Natalie adds, offended by the fact that he has looked past her and the team's support.

Their conversation is cut short by a call from Lando’s best friend, Max. Recognizing the need for personal space, Natalie tactfully steps away, leaving Lando to converse with his best friend.

“Hey, buddy.” Lando answers.

“Hey, man. You good? What was that last lap?” Max asks.

“My head was not in that race at all today.” Lando admits.

“Why? What happened?” Max implores.

“You know how everyone’s been asking me about my love life. So, management suggests I fake date this model and Natalie shoots that down, and rightfully so, she made some good points. Then Charlotte asks if Natalie wouldn’t fake date me instead, since it would be more believable, and then she rejects that idea instantly.” Lando explains.

“So, are you mad that everyone keeps bugging you about it or mad at Natalie because she rejected the idea?” Max asks to clarify the situation.

“Is it wrong that I’m mad at her for not wanting to help me out?” Lando mumbles.

“Dude, she just got out of an abusive six-year relationship, do you really blame her for going the drama-free route?” Max counters.

“Of course, I don’t blame her for that. It’s just frustrating having to answer these questions all the time and deal with stupid statements.” Lando responds.

“She’s been doing a good job getting you out of answering those questions. Just ride the wave. They’ll get bored with this eventually.” Max assures his friend.

---------------------------

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld

[alhaithamhabibi]

Um, hellooo! I saw you up requests and I wanted to give a try but feel free to reject this. May I ask for a reader who isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother long before roxana was born. The reader mother is a nanny(do they allow that?? idk) of lante when he was younger so reader and him sorta grew up together. And then when he became the head, he had the reader became his kids nanny/caretaker and as one of his righthand. Pls and ty!

ᴍᴇᴇɴᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs : hiii darling! no clue what lante's background was other than he overruled his father so this is my speculation of it. i may or may have not gotten carried away by the reader's backstory that i may or may have not create another post for it 👀 also this somehow became an alternate universe somewhere around the end oops -

part two is here

𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

❥ so you isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother's world long before the story started? congratulations! and you even became the daughter of the female lead's father nanny? good luck trying to survive.

❥ somehow, you managed to survive up to your late twenties as LANTE AGRICHE trusted servant and closest confidante. which was shocking, to say the least. but you know deep down, he held some sort of genuine affection for your mother since his mother passed away.

❥ and you two had grown up together despite being in different worlds from each other. even after your mother's death, he kept you around as he killed his father and took the position of the head of agriche. even as he changed for the worse, you remained by his side.

❥ whether it was out of obligation or sincerity, you no longer knew why you stayed beside him. but you know why he wanted you. after all, your mother made her mark on him and so did you. people found it odd that he didn't try to marry you just to keep you by his side since it was more effective. but you both knew better than that.

❥ it was the consequences of your actions, you thought to yourself, as he burned your marriage requests in the fireplace. anything that allowed relationships beyond his family, his household, and especially himself was an absolute no. but that's fine. who needs friendship and love anyway?

❥ besides, as he began to collect his wives and mistresses ( much to your disdain ), you knew the story was gonna start soon. and despite knowing the end for this household, you still wanted to change a few things. and what better way to start as lante made you the official nanny of his children.

❥ FONTAINE was an eight-year-old child when you first met him. to make his father proud. at first, he wasn't quite fond of you as you took most of his father's time but eventually, he liked the maternal affection you gave to him. he felt entitled to have your time. in return, you made sure he kept at least some of his morals growing up. you unfortunately weren't able to stop the rebelliousness growing in him and could only hope he would make wise decisions. ( yes, you made sure to tell him the deficits of incestuous relationships and frightened him enough that he would see his female siblings as competition which is progress at least. )

❥ GRIZELDA was only a toddler when she first approached you about a book you were reading during your time off. you knew she was the only agriche to have magic so the pressure on her was high. when all was against her, you were right by her side to hold her steady. that and you two had bonded over books together. as she was young, it was you who tucked her into bed and told her stories and tales you knew from your past life and current. even as she grew older, she loved hearing interesting stories that came from you. you always made time for her even when you were busy with taking care of lante's work and the children. always reminding you to take care of yourself as well.

❥ ASHIL was only a year old when you met him. sierra was a wonderful and sane woman so you often visited her. ashil reminded you of a golden retriever and you became fond of him instantly. he always asked for your help and was ready to help you if you had any problems. the day you knew ashil failed the exam, you beg to lante to give spare ashil so you may take him as your own. because of your shared past, he reluctantly did so. it was the only way for him to live safely even if it meant taking him from his mother and sister. though the mother-sister duo thanked you profusely. especially as ashil pledged to protect you along with those he considered as his family. even as he grew stronger and older, he kept true to himself.

❥ DION was also a baby when you first carried him in your arms after maria's birth. while she complained about the baby's looks and disappointment, you saw another baby to love and cherish. lante and maria's parenting only got worse so you took matters in your hands and had him stay with you and ashil. he was quite a curious and mischievous boy, always finding trouble to drag his older brother with him. luckily, ashil had infinite patience as an elder sibling and always pulled back dion when necessary. it was also rather cute to see dion and roxana fight over who gets more ashil and your time. the older dion grew, he began to resemble more of his father which worried you. but when he smiled that playful smile at you and his close siblings, the anxiety vanished as you returned the smile.

❥ ROXANA was unsure about you when she first saw you. she hadn't remembered you being mentioned in the novel along with the evident changes. you were an unpredictable variable so she was cautious around you. it took some time but after saving ashil, she viewed you as an angel descended from the heavens to protect them. and she let you into her small circle and her heart. eventually, you told her of your past life which shocked her. so that explains everything! but she felt the comfort of another person in her situation just as she did and swore to protect you as well. despite your warnings, she still went ahead with the butterfly project knowing it could shorten her life. so you made sure to take care of her despite her pouts to relieve your, ashil, and sierra's worries. and cassis came along as the story unfold, he could see how important you were to the children of agriche. you liked to tease roxana and him often after he escaped.

❥ JEREMY was clingy and touch-starved when he first met you as a young child. he had just returned from his brutal class with a harsh wound, unable to hold back his whimpers. you found him there and gathered him into your arms to your room so that you could heal his wounds. his mother didn't even see and he watched her commit suicide with his own eyes as she refused to interact with him. since then, he has been attached to you by the hip. you were his mother. that was what he called you, openly especially since the others addressed you as either aunty or nanny. you were one of the few people who could stop jeremy from his violent tendencies with a word or a touch. he didn't want to scare his mother after all.

❥ CHARLOTTE was easily attached to you as she had a rocky relationship with her mother. you were more of her mother than her mother and she loved it when you praised her. it was a competition again between her and jeremy which gave you enough headaches as you recalled the rivalry between dion and roxana before. history had a way of repeating itself. still, like jeremy, you had a way of calming her down. with her hothead and brash personality, you helped her try to control it so she wouldn't get into any more trouble with lante and her mother. she loves it especially when you call her by her nickname 'lotte' since it was her first nickname she received.

❥ though all the agriche kids were raised as they were, you became their moral support and someone they genuinely care for. it was you who put yourself between lante and themselves when they were punished. and if you couldn't stop it, you always attended to their wounds and stayed with them for the night, as they rest on the couch. how could they not love you?

❥ even lante couldn't do anything as he found it a good reason to keep you in the agriche mansion. which was his biggest mistake. even as his top children began to plot against their father, you also went along with it as their spy. after all, lante was no longer the boy you grew up with and you had to open up your eyes. and if he had to be disposed off so that you could protect the children, so be it.

❥ after the night the agriche household fell, it was you placed the final blow on lante. and you had to witness fontaine demise from cassis's sword, though some small part of you mourned for that eight year old boy you knew long ago. and as roxana's health declined, you sent her to cassis in hopes that there was a possibility she could be healed.

❥ you were named as the matriarch of the black agriche, a title placed by the children you cared for. and quickly enough due to your past experience as lante trusted associate, you began to help raise the agriche from the ground and to a hopeful and brighter future. so you decided to burn agriche mansion to the ground and make it a new and better mansion.

❥ for a future where your children could make better memories in the new home you created for them. even as some of them stayed by your side or went on traveling around, you always made sure that they would have a home to come back to. but to them, you were their home. you accepted all of them as they are and cherished you for it. they would burn the world down if you asked them to.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Love Begins From a Mean Lie: Liam Evans Collection Event Story❥︎

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Dividers: @/natimiles

Liam: Victor, what's going on? Katie and I are going to be separated for a few days…..

Victor: I'm sorry. I've been making adjustments and considering things, but... due to circumstances, it just ended up happening.

Victor: ...... First, Kate I want you to infiltrate a women's club where there are rumors of drug deals going on.

Kate: When it comes to women's clubs, only women can infiltrate them.

Victor: Given Crown’s busy schedule, it would be impossible for him to dress as a woman, so I have no choice but to ask you Kate.

Liam: Can't I sneak into that women's club, too? I can even cross dress!!

Liam approaches Victor, threatening to take off his clothes and put on the dress at any second.

Victor: Liam, I would like you to work with Harrison to investigate illegal gambling establishments in the suburbs.

Victor: We need tickets to enter the gambling hall, but I only have one available.

Victor: So, Liam I want you to use your ability to disappear and infiltrate.

(There are places where only women can enter, and places where you have to disappear to enter……)

(……both of those missions are irreplaceable.)

Liam: ……

Liam: ……ok, I get it.

Victor: I’m sorry, Liam. Thank you for understanding.

Victor: While you can't be by her side, I'll be more careful than usual to make sure Kate is never in danger.

Victor: How about having Roger on standby, so he can be there when she needs help?

Liam: Yea... In that case, I’ll feel a little relieved.

When Victor told him about the schedule for the next mission, he was satisfied for a while…….

On the way home, Liam was completely depressed.

(......Liam, are you sure you're okay?)

So far, I've seen him get anxious many times before just because he can't see me even a little bit.

(This lasts for several days.…..)

Kate: Um, Liam…..

Liam: ….okay!

Liam suddenly slapped his own cheeks with his hands.

Liam: I'm sorry for looking so bitter, Katie. I changed my mind.

Liam: Even if you’re not here Katie….I'll be fine!

Kate: Really....?

Liam smiles and holds out his little finger to reassure me.

Liam: I'll complete the mission perfectly and come back to see you soon …. I promise.

Kate: Then I'll finish my mission safely and wait for you to come back Liam.

I smiled back at Liam as we intertwined our little fingers.

Liam: Haaa……Katie.

Harrison: Hey, how many times have you sighed? They say that when you sigh, happiness escapes from you. 

Liam: ……Which direction is Crown Castle in?

Harrison: From this position, it's southeast... so, isn't it over there? 

Liam: Haaa…..

Liam: I hope the happiness that escaped from me reaches Katie.

Harrison: ……We’re about to go on a mission, and you're not ready.

Liam: It's a symptom of Katie deficiency.

Liam: …..Don't you think the picture on that signboard looks a bit like Kate?

Liam: I feel like the flowers on the roadside there also look like Kate……

Liam: Katie…..I’m fine. 

Harrison: Don't talk to the flowers .....

Harrison: .…I thought you told Kate you were okay to come out.

Liam: Because if I cried forever about not wanting to leave, Kate would be troubled, right?

Liam: Even if I didn’t mean it...I have no choice but to say so.

Harrison: You sound like a toddler who is reluctant to go to preschool because he doesn't want to be away from his parents.

Liam: ….Hey, Harry. Can you do me a favor?

Harrison: What?

Liam: ..... I hope you'll imitate Isla and support me.

Harrison: Huh?

Liam: I need to intake Katie’s dosage……I’m already on…..

Liam: I may go back to Crown Castle right now without completing my mission.

Harrison: ..... Can you promise me that if I imitate her, you’ll get back on track and complete the mission perfectly?

Liam: I promise!

Harrison: ..... You're not lying. I'll do it because I have to, but don't laugh.

Harrison: Hmmm …….Liam! I'm rooting for you Liam! Keep up the good work! 😭

Liam:……Not at all.

Liam: Katie’s arms are angled like this. The direction of her neck is like this. The way her legs open is like this..... Haaa.

Liam: Harry, your poor impersonation has made me want to see Katie even more….

Harrison: ........ I can't do it.

(Haa….)

Kate: Liam! Welcome back!

A few days after Liam and I were separated for a mission.

Liam finally returned to Crown Castle after completing his mission.

Liam: Isla, I'm back……!

Liam hugged me tightly while we were talking.

The painful embrace made me feel that Liam was indeed here, and I was very happy.

Harrison: I'll report back to Victor on the mission, so Liam can go off with Isla, okay?

Liam: No problem! Thanks, Harry!

Harrison: You can buy me a table full of sweet treats later and we can call it even about the mission.

Kate: About the mission….?  What happened?

Liam: While on the mission, I asked Harry a rather difficult request.

Liam: For Harry's honor, I can't go into details...

Liam: I was faced with the obvious fact that there is no one who can replace you Katie.

Liam, who must have been exhausted, took me in his arms and ran in a straight line from the entrance hall to his room.

Before the open door is completely closed, my lips are quickly snatched away.

Kate: Mmm…….haa…..

Liam: ….I missed you, Katie…..

After many intense kisses to fill the missing time, we finally pull away.

Liam: I've done my …….mission perfectly, just as I promised. How did you do while I was gone, Kate?

Kate: The mission I was on went off without a hitch! There was nothing dangerous about it.

Liam: Good…..

Kate: I was also relieved. Even though we were a part, you were able to carry out your duties without any problems, Liam.

Liam: That’s…..

Liam: …. It was more like I was the one who had the problem by being a part.

Liam: ….What?

Kate: Even though you weren’t there Liam, when we were eating, I'd turn around to the one next to me and say, “It's delicious, Liam.” 

Kate: Even when I was writing my report, I mistakenly wrote your name Liam for a completely different person...

Kate: I was worried about you before I left...but I was the one who wasn't okay.

I remembered my days at Crown Castle with Liam by my side.

Meals that were supposed to be delicious were tasteless, and even when the sky cleared, I didn't feel better.

With each passing day, the world seemed to gradually fade away.

Liam: That's not true! I wasn't okay at all either!

Liam: I didn't want to worry you, so I lied and said I was fine...... 

Liam: I was lonely and sad and pained when I left you Kate.... I was going crazy.

(I wasn't the only one...) 

Liam: I'm sorry. I keep telling you I want to change……

Liam: Katie, I can’t leave you, I’m still so weak and useless…..

Kate: That's not true! I like the Liam, who is trying to change and moving forward.

Kate: There is no time limit, so don't be in a hurry to ……change.

Kate: Besides, if you were to leave me so quickly, I would feel lonely too.

Liam: Yeah…..

We smile, we kiss, and we make love again.

Liam's brazen lies taught me that we’re deeply in love, and I don't want to be apart even for a moment.

And then -

Liam: Hey, Isla. Actually I think I bumped myself a little bit on my mission......

Liam: May I ask you to check to see if there are any bruises?

Kate: What? That's a big deal ...... I have to check it out right away!

I rush to undress Liam.

Kate: There's nothing in particular about the upper body, but….

Liam: Then maybe it’s on my lower body?

Kate: Lower body…….

Liam: Yeah, I'd like you to help me check! I can't see much by myself.

Liam, who replies, is very energetic and doesn't look like he is in any pain.

Kate: Um……Liam, I'm sorry if I'm mistaken.

Kate: Are you lying, by any chance?

Liam: …..You found out?

Kate: Liam, you said it yourself, you’re a bad liar…

Liam: I wanted you to spoil me and take off my clothes, so I lied to you Katie…Sorry!

Kate: If that's the reason, I can't get angry.

Kate: In exchange for forgiveness, Liam I’ll ask you to help me get undressed as punishment.

Kate: Now are you going to undress me Liam.....?

Liam: …..Then it's not a punishment, it's a treat, Katie.

Giggling and giggling, we kissed again and…naughty lies deepened our evening.

I shed a tear over Harrison today LOL!

[Master List]

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Time Travel Rec List!

No fooling, today we have 9 time travel fics for your reading pleasure! Three are short and sweet, under 10k words; three are moderate at around 50k, and three are behemoths of over 100k! We also have a rarepair in the form of a Ziam canon-divergence time-travel fix-it fic.

Please enjoy, leave comments and kudos, and get ready for the next theme (as soon as I can decide what it is...)

The Second Hands Unwinds by kingsofeverything (51573, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Louis Tomlinson is one of the first members of NASA's top secret Chrono Exploration Program. When things go wrong and he's sent further back in time than planned, he has no other option than to show up on his ex-boyfriend's doorstep.

Reccer says: I think everyone knows this fic, NASA au, but how can we not recommend it? The plot is great, it's emotional, it's really good. Sp, so beatuiful, so immersive, the characters are written perfectly and it absolutely made me cry.

De amore ex tempore by Persephoneflouwers (101471, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Or: the Middle Ages AU where Harry is a philosopher, whose thoughts happen five centuries too soon and Louis is a painter, whose art happens five centuries too late. Or: the Time Travel AU where alternate versions of themselves live simultaneously in different realities and their paths collide every time, until somehow, they converge into one.

Reccer says: Much of the story takes place during the Florentine Renaissance, at the end of the Middle Ages, and it's beautiful and well-written. I was at the Louvre a while back and while looking at the Caravaggio and Trevento paintings, images of De Amore Ex Tempore came to mind. Beyond that, I also really liked the story, the meeting of this Louis from the future with a Harry from the Middle Ages. It just goes to show that, whatever the era, they're bound to find each other!

There’s Such a Lot of World to See by Crinkle-Eyed-Boo (125000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Harry dies twice, but it all works out and has a happy ending!

Doctor Who AU with Louis as The Doctor and Harry as the Companion, inspired by the Impossible Girl story from series 7.

Reccer says: It has everything you need! Thrills, angst, romance, smut, and time travel!

billow and breeze (islands and seas) by Pleasinglouis (102506, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Two words sum it up: Outlander AU.

Reccer says: And here again, two words are enough to recommend: Outlander AU...

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember by Jaerie (53918, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Reccer says: It's beautifully written and poignant.

i know i've grown (but i can't wait to go home) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (7230, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Violence, murder, injury (not graphic)

Louis falls down a hill and into the past. A historical castle is suddenly full of life, including a hot prince -- and his evil twin.

Reccer says: I really enjoy the use of language and speech patterns between the modern Louis and the historical Harry!

Timeless by babyhoneyhslt (3867, General, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Based on "Timeless" by Taylor Swift. Harry wanders into an antique shop and finds himself pulled back in time, through a series of lifetimes. And in every one -- there's Louis.

Reccer says: I'm always a sucker for the idea that in every timeline and every universe these two would find each other -- and getting to have that multiple times in one story just cements that.

saw some things on the other side by we_are_the_same (61352, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence

When Louis moves into the mansion he’s inherited from his great grandfather, he has a plan that consists of three things. One, he’s going to finish writing the next novel in his series. Two, he’s finally going to get over his ex-fiancé. And three, while battling writer’s block and having to resist the urge to kill off the main character in his books – the hot detective based on his ex-fiancé – he’s going to restore the mansion to its former glory. Unfortunately, Louis’ plan doesn’t take into account the fact that instead of writing murder mysteries, he will find himself in one.

Reccer says: I love the way the writer manages the time/dimension travel trope!

(I pray to God I didn’t waste) all my good years by we_are_the_same (6864, General, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne) - fic post Warnings: Does "post-march 25th" count as a warning?

Liam goes to sleep in a world where Zayn has just left One Direction. He wakes up somewhere quite different.

Reccer says: The angst of it all!!

[demonsword586]

Leviathan Bloodshed story part 3

(Whew,I'm glad the parts after the prolouge aren't so long yet give quite a bit of content. Now that I'm rereading his story,I feel like he's getting greener every part. Oh! Also I might not post the next one till weekend,getting visits tomorrow+ got a lot of irl work to do. Wish you all a fun and non-stressful day!)

Leviathan's clothes which now looked more like rags than anything else were now tattered and completlly non-functional.

The more of his skin was exposed,the more scars were revealed.

But neither you or Leviathan felt any pain or pity for it. Instead you were both excited by the increased skin showing.

Click,click-

Before you knew it,Leviathan moved on and unbuckled your pants.

Judging from what you felt between your buttocks and behind your back,his pants have long been pulled down.

Mc: You stay still. You're a patient.

With that said,you slipped your pants and underwear under your buttocks before grabbing Leviathan's penis between your butt crack.

Leviathan: Ungh...wait...

Leviathan ended up closing his eyes.

You also tilted your head,sharing the sweet sensation between your legs.

You hadn't even put it in,yet Leviathan was acting like you swallowed him whole.

You could feel that your weight,your grip on his shirt,your skin against his,were turning him on.

You even started rocking your hips up and down,Leviathan also rocked his hips to match.

The wet clothes and skin rubbed against each other,creating a lustful sound going slap,slap,slap...

Mc: (What should I do,this alone makes me want to come..)

You bit down on your lower lip and thought,but your body didn't stop at all.

Mc: Leviathan,wait,I...think I'm c-

Leviathan: .....

Leviathan rocked you harder as though he coudn't hear you.

You wanted to rub Leviathan's penis against something more forward, sensitive and not between your buttcheeks.

You stradled Leviathan's chest,pressing your chest against his and stuck out your bottom.

Leviathan grimaced from pleasure and grabbed your sides.

Leviathan: Are you tired?

Mc: No,it's just...I prefer this...

If Leviathan thought you were pathetic,you had nothing to say about it.

But far from considering you to be pathetic,Leviathan began to rub his shaft against your center.

You shuddered,alternately being rubbed against your wet underwear that had climbed precariously down and Leviathan's bare skin.

Mc: Hnn...! Hnnnn!!!

Leviathan: Ha..

Leviathan's sweet sigh tickled your forehead.

You didn't forget to rock him as you diligently moved your mouth.

(bg changes to Leviathan smirking like he's the hottest deer around)

All the skin that was exposed through the torn clothes was blackened with your hickies.

And on your body,on the exact same spots,there were red marks that appeared with sucking sensations.

Each time you sucked on Leviathan's skin,he sped up.

Then he suddenly stopped as though he was flooring the brakes.

Mc: What's wrong? Are you alright? Is it because you're hurt?

Leviathan: ..No

Leviathan smiled picturesquely with a lewd look on his face.

Leviathan: It looks like neither you nor myself wish to reach climax yet.

You did once think he resembled a pure and innocent deer...

Mc: (Oh my...There can't be such a lewd deer like this.)

Leviathan: You. You're completely wet.

The moment you finished thinking,Leviathan spoke in an alluring voice and stroked from between your butt crack and back.

Mc: Uhh...?!?!

It resulted in you shudder with sudden pleasure and then reaching a shallow climax.

But before you could even feel the aftermath of your climax,Levithan began to move again.

He was a horribly injured patient,but the ecstasy that controlled his brain and body seemed to overcome it.

The same went for you as well.

Mc: Leviathan, Leviathan..

When Leviathan's hand moved away from his private area to outwardly touch yours,you called his name as though you were drooling.

Soon,the finger making wet sounds frequented your hole shallowly.

You bit your lips and tightened,and loosened around the finger that entered you.

Then Leviathan's penis that you weren't even touching swelled even more and kept tapping your bottom.

Mc: (This is unbelievable..I can feel this good...in a situation like this?!)

Not only had you already come although he wasn't even inside you,Leviathan was also gasping roughly and feeling you.

The feeling of sex had no intention of settling,instead it only hightened.

(Bg changes to Levi looking like his pp is about to explode)

Just then,Leviathan grimaced as though in pain and grabbed your thigh,

Leviathan: This isn't enough...at this rate..

Leviathan was steadily reaching climax,but he pleaded you for bigger stimulation as though it wasn't enough.

When you looked lost,Leviathan held the Chackram of light that was embedded in his body.

Mc: Leviathan,that will open your wounds!!

Leviathan: I don't think so. Not if you do it.

Leviathan meant it.

You felt your changeable conscience and guilt raise their heads again...

Leviathan: Please...

Snap-!

The string of rationality or the borders of your morality snapped loudly inside you.

You sat up,staring at Leviathan with your eyes so seized with excitement you could almost feel your mind going black.

Then,you held the blade of light embedded in his body and began to move it roughly.

Leviathan: Ha,hnn,uhh...!

Unspeakable pain spread out through your body as well.

It was such a thrilling pain that you thought you would black out at the slightest wrong touch.

But pleasure bigger than that soon covered it.

You could feel the sheer affection and desire in the touch,and the knowledge that you were turning him into a mess,filling Leviathan to the brim.

Each time you shook the Chakram of light,Leviathan's wounds were exposed in all their glory,but his moans increased proportionately.

Mc: Leviathan...

Leviathan: Ugh,you...How can you...make me...

He didn't continue.

How can I torment you this much?

How can I lust after you like this?

Mc: ( Or...How can I like you this much?)

You guessed the words Leviathan swallowed and rocked harder.

Just then,a drop of rain that fell down Leviathan's eyes flowed down.

At the sight of what looked like tears,you felt goosebumps rise all over your body.

Mc: (If..if I do something worse...!)

You stood up.

(bg changes to Levi looking like a little kitten in the rain)

And took your shoes off,and then- stepped on Leviathan's cheek with your bare foot.

[au-sonic-smackdown]

AU Sonic Smackdown - Round 2, Left Side

Click to see full size image

Cybernetic AU belongs to @estellardreams

Freaks AU belongs to @eloaholiveira

Learn more about them under the cut!

Cybernetic AU-

Sonic in this universe is like the original… But his trauma has been presented a lot more openly as a problem along with having physical repurcussions for them. He came from the exact same background as Canon Sonic, but with a few key differences… Mostly because Shadow’s entire character was completely overhauled, and some alternate canons did influence his story (Archie and X). His powers are practically the same.

As for who he is as a person and the world he’s coming out from, it’s post Forces and Metal Virus. Along with facing the injury of losing his leg, Sonic’s mental state keeps taking a toll on him. His friends continuously try to help, but get pushed away. And apparently what leads him to getting the help he needs is through yet another World Ending Event™.

The End had returned through a curse Eggman tried to use, attempting to force Sonic back into Cyberspace. This unfortunately backfires as the End slowly gains control over Sonic’s body before fully taking it over. Once his friends rescue him and the End is defeated once again, all is well.

Until it isn’t anymore. Because this never stops. Sonic always keeps going. He’s too persistent and self-sacrificial, and means no harm to his friends. He’s always doing the right thing and forced to keep up appearances since the entire WORLD looks up to him. It’s a vicious cycle he’s gotten trapped in. One he doubts he’d be able to escape from anytime soon.

Freaks AU-

It’s a supernatural AU in which Sonic gets bit by a werebeast, turning into one himself. He lives in an abandoned attic along with Silver, life long best friends, who is a recently turned vampire, and also Tails Doll, possessed by Tails’ soul.

Once he learns how to control his other half, Sonic has the ability to shift or partially shift at will, although it’s harder on New Moons, and easier on Full Moons. They also got Super Full Moons, in which they go completly feral and bloodthirsty, and Super New Moons, where a werebeast go into a hibernation state.

[thepythakorean]

parallels between the boy and the heron and this painting, plus general analysis

Arnold Bocklin, Island of the Dead. 1880

i want to preface this by saying i am by no means an art history nerd, i just happen to know some stuff about the background of this painting in particular.

as soon as mahito is sucked into the tower floor he is standing at the shore of an island surrounded by an endless ocean. he is dwarfed by a large set of golden gates that say something like "those who seek my knowledge shall perish" and an even taller forest of cypress trees. these features all frame a white dolmen (primitive tomb usually made of giant rocks stacked like below) that beckons to him.

this scene immediately struck me since it has so many of the visual elements of the painting. mahito is even framed in the foreground to be so very small approaching these giant, daunting structures just like the boat heading for the island in the painting. besides the tombs, the cypress trees are also traditionally associated with mourning and death at least in europe/the mediterranean. other ghibli movies have lavish european aesthetics tied to characters (howl, yubaba, etc.) but it feels particularly intimate here given that mahito's great granduncle, the creator and ruler of this world, is apparently european and can only pass on his role to a direct descendant. (btw not saying the gaudy european decor signature of howl and yubaba aren't important to their characterization, it def is! i'm just saying it stood out to me in this movie especially.) the cliffs full of stone entrance passageways are prominent later in the movie as himi takes mahito through the parakeet's domain, and interestingly, in the delivery room where natsuko is, there is another dolmen behind her (can't find pics since the movie hasn't been uploaded yet urgh).

the backstory to the painting continues to parallel to the events of the story! so there's 5 versions of this painting. the first three versions were painted in a cemetery close to bocklin's residence which was also full of white headstones and sculptures, and cypress trees. one of his infant children, one of many children he lost, was buried there. the one i posted above is the first/second-- while bocklin was working on the first, a the soon-to-be wife of a politician visited his studio, saw the wip, and commissioned her own version with the added white figure and coffin to commemorate her first husband who had just died of diphtheria. already somewhat similar to how mahito's mother died in the hospital fire (well. she died from the fire but presumably she was there because she was sick) and when his father shortly remarried. these were also added to the initial wip and stuck in later versions of the painting. bocklin later wrote to her, "you will be able to dream yourself into the world of dark shadows". the movie is also very dreamlike-- it's a fantasy world filled with strange creatures, alternate versions of people he knows, and passages that seem to alter the fabric of time and space. people also seem to forget about it as soon as they leave even after spending long periods of time in it like a dream. the painting is also very dreamlike, but why? the warm lighting, maybe not in the version i posted but in a couple others, may explain it, but the island itself resembles the curtains and stage of a theater (referencing the audio clip below the description). even if it doesn't look EXACTLY like that to you, it's definitely a too-perfect little scene in a nebulous expanse of space. this theatrical quality is also shown in the movie by the parakeet uprising side plot as well as the scene when himi and mahito collapse in front of the delivery room-- the curtain falls directly in front of the viewer over them as though a stageplay just ended. oh and a friend mentioned to me how this is a classic hero's journey plot and mirrors orpheus in the underworld. island of the dead has also directly inspired NUMEROUS other works of art, including other paintings, stage productions, and symphonic poems. apparently the painting was so popular many people in berlin hung prints of it in their homes (i do too)! as i stated above though, a lot of the visual elements in the painting were already traditional symbols relating to death so i don't want to 100% conclude that miyazaki was directly inspired by this painting, he may have just also resonated with those symbols independent of bocklin which i still think is awesome.

the first time we see himi also reminded me of the painting. she's wearing a white dress and standing at the bow of a small wooden boat, and though her intentions are to save the warawara from the pelicans, she inevitably kills some of them too. visually and thematically she's like the white figure at the front of the rowboat in the painting. she acts as a guide for mahito (analogous to the rower? he traveled to this world of his own volition but needed a guide) for a good part of the movie and is a collage of life and death. she is a younger but kind of omniscient version of his dead mother; she's known all along she is mahito's mother but is about to be born into the world by the end of the movie and accepts her fate happily. she can control fire which envelops her like how she died in the real world, but is harmless to the touch unless she directs it as a weapon, and as we see with the warawara and pelicans it helps creation but also destroys much like fire's role in the natural world. natsuko, though a separate person from himi, is still connected as a sibling, and we see her wandering into the forest at the beginning of the movie while wearing white like himi, back turned to mahito, and that is what prompts him to first enter the tower. the strange nature of her character that doesn't adhere to a proper time or space parallels the way the white figure completely stands out in the painting, at least the ones with darker lighting. another crazy parallel surrounding fire and wwii between the painting and the movie is that the fourth version of this painting was destroyed during wwii due to bombing, again like how mahito's mother's hospital was presumably set on fire by bombing during the war.

the looming effects of war alluded to throughout the movie eventually tie into its resolution, when mahito accepts his new family that he initially rejected, his own imperfect being, and the fact that one must seek out love to be happy in this bitch of a world. his great granduncle is confused as to why mahito wouldn't want to recreate his own world like him. why would you want to return to the world that killed your mother and rejects you as a person? the world that forces your people to die in war and will eventually drop the deadliest weapon mankind has ever seen even a century from now onto your home? you can make everything perfect here! he's created something of a "paradise" himself, full of lush tropical plants, parakeets, and strange insects (some of them looked like the bugs from nausicaa, another fantastical world of lush nature which is also threatened by war. interesting), almost like a garden of eden, and it so happens to be at the very top of the tower. funnily enough, bocklin also painted this several years later:

Arnold Bocklin, Island of Life. 1888

i don't know much about this one so idk if it's an explicit companion piece to the island of the dead but it certainly looks like it. the similarities are now less apparent to the movie if there are any, it's much less lush but there are exotic plants and uh birds and stuff. this is definitely more likely a case of shared inspiration from the symbols themselves rather than movie directly looking at the painting. anyway clearly the promise of a perfect paradise isn't real, as this is interrupted by a war of his own unwitting creation, the uprising of the parakeets he wanted to breed in a paradise that literally bring about the end of the world. no world will ever be perfect when left long enough to its own devices. life finds a way! plus, this world was created through so much death (the construction workers in hazardous conditions, the way the tower keeps spiriting people away. btw in the english sub mahito's dad calls the whole ordeal a "disappearance" but he says "kamikakushi" in japanese which means "hidden by god" in reference to people who mysteriously disappeared as if from supernatural circumstances and yes that's the word they used in the japanese title of spirited away!!!) and is on the verge of collapsing from reality every three days just because of some building blocks?? the real world may be on fire but it'll go out/burn less badly someday, and at least it won't completely disappear in a snap, not in an easily imagined timescale for a human anyway. it's up to you to make the best of it, and this is what mahito decides. there are also visual allusions to other ghibli movies about the constantly present threat or consequences of war. the only other landmark aside from the island mahito lands on is a line of ships which kiriko later tells him are all fake. it immediately reminded me of the stream of planes in porco rosso which were the souls of dead fighter pilots moving on. the shadow people in the swamp were also reminiscent of those in the train in spirited away, which are never explained to my knowledge but the given that spirited away's characters are largely spirits and the way souls are so similarly designed in this movie makes me feel that they were also souls of people in spirited away.

through this imagined otherworld, there is also the blurring of lines between life and death, reality and imagination. himi plus her dyad with natsuko (they're sisters AND they look exactly the same AND both are mother figures to mahito) are great examples of this. mahito's mother is gone, he knew this and set foot into the world anyway. he rejected natsuko as his new mother but in going through the struggles of the tower he comes to accept familial love for her and even keeps confusing "natsuko" and "mom" while reaching out to her in the delivery room. a family is made up of different people but inevitably you will see each other in each person. in the delivery room scene we see the paper hanging from the ceiling lash out to attack and stick to mahito like tape, it even leaves red marks on him. this is one of the best scenes in the movie to me because of its visual contrast to him rushing to save his mother in the fire. in the fire scene, the real world around him is blurred and distorted and at times so is mahito and especially his mother. the fire doesn't seem to burn him or his clothes (i could be remembering that wrong tho) and the scene cuts off before it shows him possibly going in further. in the delivery room, everything is drawn with clean lineart, no stylization. there is no mistaking the reality of this situation even though this world is conjured, the dawning realization upon mahito that this person is his mother is so visceral that he actively fights through the paper literally snapping its jaws and natsuko spitting her hatred towards him. when mahito is ready to leave the tower, himi leaves through a separate door to be born as his mother sometime in the past though she is not a warawara and knows what has happened/will happen, an exception that further demonstrates the nonlinear nature of time and space in the movie.

after coming out of the tower, the heron tells mahito he should forget everything that happened in there. even his grandmother seemed to have forgotten the whole year she spent in there (it seems like tower time reflects irl time judging by the events of the movie). anything that comes out doesn't just disappear, it transforms into a real-life counterpart as we saw with the pelicans leaving as they were (presumably minus the ability to speak) and the parakeets going from big bloodthirsty things to regular parakeets. so mahito can't just forget, especially because he comes out changed from his experiences in there, not just himself personally but also his changed relationships with natsuko and the heron, and also his little souvenirs. then the movie abruptly ends with mahito narrating that they left for tokyo again shortly after the war ended. i like to think that this was a hopeful ending where mahito maintained that character development and was able to welcome natsuko and his new sibling into his family while being able to seek more friends and family in the future. i've seen other analyses talking about how this movie was semi-autobiographical for miyazaki and i can see it, how events early in his life shaped his personality and how he had to fight to find beauty in a world that otherwise treated him poorly, so i'm glad he ended the movie on that note, although in less words. pretty similar to how spirited away ended, although there was arguably more loss involved, but still hopeful, and that's what i find so powerful about this movie. and like this movie, spirited away involves a dyad between yubaba and zeniba as a device for the hardships and beauty of life, how they're not so discreet at times. as a last kindasorta tie-in to bocklin's work, i'll point again to the island of life which was created after the island of the dead, plus a composition directly inspired by the island of the dead, a symphonic poem with the same title written by sergei rachmaninoff. the last time i listened to this was in high school and it's like. 20 minutes long so i'm too impatient to give it a relisten now but from my vague recollection plus some quick searches it's a very somber piece that escalates into emotional climaxes yet still contains warmer tones, and goes back to the same "rowing" motif at the end. it weaves together evocations of life and death in one piece, also illustrating how the two really are so closely connected.

tl;dr, this was me the entire movie because miyazaki SEEMS to be heavily inspired by this one symbolist painting i happen to like a lot:

also also here's a self portrait of bocklin:

yes, all of his paintings are that cool.

[kidukami]

☾┅ about me ┅ ☽

hi, call me mika! i'm 21+ and i go by they/them pronouns. i'm a se asian writer + aspiring literary translator based in the uk. this post is essentially a writeblr reintroduction as i am starting anew in the community with this blog, and i'm really excited to share my wips and connect with all you lovely writers out there! i'm also tag and/or interaction friendly (although my reply speed is... not the best especially for tag/ask games, but i'm trying!), so please don't be afraid to say hi ♡

☾┅ writing interests ┅ ☽

important note: my works may contain mature and potentially triggering topics. viewer discretion is advised.

╳ i'm mainly a prose fiction writer, although i may dabble in scriptwriting and poetry at times. ╳ genres: speculative fiction, historical fiction, thriller, literary fiction. ╳ themes: sociopolitical commentary, satire, dark comedy, angst/tragedy, tragicomedy, morally grey characters, queer romance. ╳ open to reading all genre and themes! you're more than welcome to reblog this with your wips or tag me in them, whether or not they feature any of the above. the above lists are not exhaustive because to this day i still don't know how my writing brain works. ╳ i take plenty of writing-related requests (beta/proofreading, critique, collabs, translation work, etc.)! please refer to my carrd for more info, or contact me directly for inquiries.

☾┅ main wips ┅ ☽

will o' the wisp :: adult sci-fi/thriller novel. ╳ award-winning talk show host and journalist noe crane is constantly treading a tightrope as he assumes his secret vigilante identity behind closed doors, but things get worse when his past comes back to haunt him. ╳ features: tragicomedy, morally grey characters, lgbt+ characters, complex relationships, modern setting, superpowers, conspiracies ╳ wip intro here!

the duña duology :: adult weird fiction duology. ╳ a troubled man in his 30s attempts to escape from his past and seeks refuge in a run-down inn, only to find himself caught up in a dangerous conspiracy against the world. ╳ features: adult (30+) characters, unlikeable protagonist, multiple universes, high concept, complex worldbuilding, retrofuturism, found family, conspiracies, aliens (?) wip intro coming soon! message if you want to be tagged.

a history of the tenshima gang feud (working title) :: new adult sci-fi/romance novel. ╳ when a national museum tour guide somehow travels back to the city's deadliest era in history as one of its disgraced figures, he will soon find that his beloved city isn't what it claims itself to be. ╳ features: time travel, alternate future, fictional setting, criminal underworld, ensemble cast, sociopolitical commentary, morally grey characters, lgbt+ characters, love triangle, lovers to enemies, friends to lovers, mcd, tragedy wip intro coming soon! message if you want to be tagged.

lilium carnage :: historical steampunk visual novel (collab with @nana7esque) ╳ four characters on two sides of the same coin. each of them are determined to deliver their own justice in the corrupted land of navona, even at the cost of their own lives, but little do they know that there will always be a bigger price to pay. ╳ features: alternate history, fictional setting, choice-based story, multiple endings, morally grey characters, lgbt+ characters, tragedy, enemies to lovers, complex chara dynamics wip intro coming soon! message if you want to be tagged.

☾┅ side wips ┅ ☽

shelved wips, wip ideas i have yet to develop, etc.

╳ by the kiss of the sleeping night :: thriller/romance webtoon collab with @nana7esque ╳ retelling of the nyi roro kidul myth ╳ modern setting character-driven script with each characters being an allegory to the seven deadly sins

feel free to interact with this post especially if you're also a writeblr! ♡

[bizmuthsbeasts]

Kinktober Day 10 - Ghosts x Female Reader - Spectrophilia

Finally! The finally day of Kinktober I will be posting. I will probably not be doing Kinktober again so here you go! Male reader version on my Patreon~ 💚🐍💚

The musky scent of mold filled your nose the second you stepped inside the old mansion. A group of your friends waited at the base of the hill, likely snickering to themselves anticipating you to come sprinting out in terror.

“Some friends.” You recall thinking to yourself as you made your way through the cobweb infested entryway.

You lived close to the center of one of the biggest cities in your country, though despite the large size of the city it was awfully closed off from the outside thanks to the thick bramble forest that surrounded the kingdom.

Many rumors and stories came from those that traveled the forest often. It was said to be a curse, some dark omen from a wizard that lived long ago, cutting your kingdom off from the rest of the world.

In spite of the bramble around the city life still thrived inside the walls of the kingdom, paths were made through the brambles with guides constantly traversing them to keep the path clear and lead travelers in and out. But many mysteries still lay in the thick bramble.

Mysteries much like this house. It was just visible over the bramble from town, placed atop a hill that showed the home’s arching peaks and prominent placement.

It had become something of a landmark. Something that the kids in town spread rumors about. It wasn’t just the kids either, many adults would take a complete alternate route just to avoid the manor. Not your friends though.

On a boring night after a bit of drinking a few harmless bets were made. Someone wanted to go to the manor and challenges were passed around until one of your friends suggested sending someone inside.

“Y/N, you’ve been awfully quiet. Why don’t you be the one to go in.” One of your friends snickered at the suggestion. Obviously your reluctance was met with taunts.

“Too chicken to go?”

“C’mon, don’t be a baby.”

What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t allow your friends to believe you a wuss. So, despite your reluctance, into the house you went.

The manor was what you expected. Some lord or lady of the kingdom abandoned their homestead when the bramble took over leaving old furniture and belongings behind.

Some things were overturned and broken from years of teens coming to vandalize things inside. You shook your head a bit as you walked through the interior grumbling to yourself.

You weren’t sure how long your friends planned to force you to stay inside but you figured the least you could do was explore a little.

You wandered until you found an intricate staircase caked with dust, your hand brushing over the railing as you decided to head up.

Each step groaned under your weight as you climbed the elaborate stairs, met by a long hallway with doors on either side of the walls.

You were a bit unsettled by the eerie atmosphere of the house but couldn’t help but be intrigued by the doors you saw. You hesitantly approached one of them at random and tried the handle

It rattled in your grip but didn’t turn, locked in place. So you shrugged and moved on to the next one. As soon as your hand touched the next door you heard a chilling creak from behind you.

When you glanced back over your shoulder the door you’d just tried was open wide, showing off the interior of a bedroom behind the door frame.

“Okay guys… not cool.” You called out, a bit hesitant as you approached the room assuming your friends had sneaked in ahead of you to play with your mind. But you found no one when you stepped inside, the musty room completely void of life.

It was a bedroom, small and ornate. Probably a woman’s room, you assumed seeing the ornate vanity pushed against the wall, still scattered with small items. A forgotten hairbrush and a powder tin among other small trinkets that you gently ran your fingers over, disturbing the dust caked onto the outside.

Wiping your fingers off on your pant leg you scanned the rest of the room curiously. You approached the large bed in the center of the room, curtain hanging in tattered wisps off of the canopy above it hiding much of the bed from view.

Your curiosity drove you forward toward it, head tilting as you reached out to push the fabric gently aside. Even after so much time the bed was still neatly made, dusty blankets covering the mattress hanging over the edge of the bed frame.

Caution set aside, you found yourself reaching out toward the covers, lightly brushing your hand over aged blankets, still soft to the touch, lightly pressing your hand into the mattress. Your mind wandered a bit in curiosity wondering just who this house had belonged to before. What kind of people slept in this bed? What were they like?

Your interest got the best of you as you found yourself leaning over the bed caught up in your imagination a bit, not noticing the curtain shifting beside you.

All in an instant soft white fabric wrapped around your face and head, blocking your vision as it pulled taut over your eyes and muffled your scream of surprise. You felt hands against your back pushing you onto your knees, a cold chill settling in bone deep as you were shoved onto the mattress.

You could hear soft ethereal giggling from behind you as your chest impacted the bed hard, making it creak and groan beneath you.

Panic set in quickly as you were pressed down. You struggled against the fabric around you, scrambling to get free but the tight grip holding you down only dug in more. A low chuckle sent a shiver through you as your body was moved around, a heavy musky scent following the sound. It smelled of stale cologne and stagnant cigar smoke, a heavy and overpowering scent that made you shake your head to clear the fog that it brought.

You fought to free yourself but to no avail. A lighter touch followed the heavy hand holding you down, the fabric shifting around your face and upper body blindfolding you properly and keeping you from seeing a thing. The fabric shifted from your mouth a bit, though, allowing you to pour out a few frantic words.

“K-knock it off, guys. This isn’t funny!” You shook your head again and were met with a much different scent, bone cold fingers brushed across your jaw and a sweet lilac note danced through your senses. A light and airy giggle following the touch as your body relaxed a bit allowing your arms to be moved.

You weren’t sure how many hands were on you, the multiple cold touches making you tremble from the stark contrast in temperature. Heavy hands moved your body around, adjusting the sheet that had fallen over you until all that remained on you was the fabric around your eyes blindfolding you.

The sudden and alarming sound of tearing fabric made you tense and jolt, confused as you heard it again, and again. Long drawn out ripping sounds that echoed in the old room.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out what it was. The musty fabric was wrapped around your wrists and suddenly pulled taut. You were laid on your back, a freezing cold touch pressing you down like a cinder block on your chest not allowing you to move.

Your arms were tied and pulled apart, pulled out as far as they could go and tied to the posts on either corner of the headboard. Struggle as you might the old fabric just wouldn’t give way to you, fear only further beginning to set in.

The hope that this was simply a cruel joke by your friends was beginning to wane by the minute, panic seeped into your every vein as, like your arms, your legs were grabbed, ankles bound and pulled apart leaving you completely spread eagle on the bed, old sheets keeping you in place.

You could just faintly hear whispers, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying, tones layering on one another and keeping you from making out any kind of real words. It was frightening to not know what was going on, unable to really think past the adrenaline rush of fear.

Thoughts whirred through your mind as you continued to struggle for escape, your plight interrupted when you felt pressure sliding up between your thighs. The same chill behind the contact pressed up against you, beginning to rub and knead slowly against the inside of your thighs and up against your cunt through your pants.

The sudden erotic contact was alarming, your body jolting back from it as the same thick musky scent penetrated your remaining senses, a low breathy chuckle echoing. The touch lingered, continuing to knead and press until your body began to betray your mind, wetness gathering beneath the fabric of your pants until you started to soak through.

You shivered as you were touched, hips shifting in an attempt to pull away from the frighteningly pleasurable connection.

Distracted by the pleasure against your groin you didn’t notice when the pressure of the large hand on your chest moved, a different weight taking its place, the pleasant lilac scent suffocatingly close to your face. 

You gasped in shock when something pressed against your lips. Soft gentle fingers brushed across your bottom lip pulling your mouth open before pressing inside, taking advantage of your surprise. The fingers pressed in deep, choking off your air when they hit the back of your throat and pulled a gag from you. 

Tears pricked your eyes at the strange sensation, the fingers in your mouth pumping slowly, dragging over your tongue and making you whine at the odd sensation of the uncanny, unnatural, feeling of seemingly non-human fingers in your mouth.

You whined a bit, vibrations around the fingers in your mouth only pulling a breathy giggle from the person as they continued the long drag of movement against your tongue, all the while the hand on your pants hadn’t stopped. Gentle motions brushed over the most sensitive spots, eagerly forcing you to soak through your pants.

You felt cold fingertips slide your shirt up, just over your stomach, the same fingers slipping under the hem of your pants, just enough to make you squirm. The sound of your bottoms being undone made you whine again, fingers slipping from your mouth as the person on your chest shifted.

Another low chuckle sounded out as there was suddenly a startlingly cold hand down your pants, frozen fingers pressing up against the heat of your cunt. The sudden change in temperature caused your whole body to raise with goosebumps, hips moving into the touch on their own.

It was overwhelming,  the touch making you shiver and moan only being interrupted moments later by the feeling of something by your mouth once again. The scent of lilac choked you as the person lowered themself over your face, the brush of cool soft thighs brushing against your cheeks as they lowered. A hand balled up in your hair, forcing your face forward into a cunt just as wet and eager as yours.

Your mind spiraled as you tried to make sense of any of this. How hadn’t you seen two people lurking around before, or moreover how did they manage to catch you like this. You couldn’t figure it out.

The hand against your cunt  was gentle and practiced, fingers pressing and rubbing in all the right spots beginning to slowly ease their way inside oh so carefully. Your surprised moans seemed to please the woman using your mouth, forcing your head to move as they rocked their hips, the pressure of the attached body pressing against your face with each long languid movement making your whine.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any stranger your pants were eased down farther. The weight and stretch of someone larger than you settling between your thighs pulling your attention downward. 

In moments you could feel the heavy weight of a man’s cock against your stomach, dragging teasingly over your soft skin then down between your legs. It dragged pointedly along your inner thighs, the head rubbing over the outside of your cunt sending shock waves of ethereal pleasure through you before it began to finally ease in and your mind was overtaken with ecstasy. 

You weren’t sure what to think anymore. Your mouth was occupied with the sweet smell and taste of a woman, your tongue working absentmindedly along with her rocking hips and the cock that started to move into you numbed your mind with more pleasure than you’d felt before. Whoever these people were certainly knew what they were doing. You almost couldn’t complain.

The pleasure was so overwhelming you couldn’t find the strength to keep struggling. You moaned and squirmed every now and then but between the cunt against your mouth keeping you from making too many sounds and occupying most of your mental ability and the overwhelming feeling of being fucked so slow and skillfully you couldn’t fight much.

The man fucking you found a pace quickly, his hips rocking and then slapping against yours, the room filled with sloppy sexual sounds that only added to the sensations. The woman using your mouth so eagerly rolled her hips, keeping you in place with a fistful of your hair, both their movements making the bed creak and groan under the insistent movement it likely wasn’t used to. 

It wasn’t long between before you started to feel close. Your cunt twitched around the cock stretching you open and using you making the man groan and twitch in turn. The woman using your mouth seemed just as eager too, her walls fluttering around your tongue as her hips rocked. 

You were close, and so were they. Strange ethereal moans echoed along with your own muffled cries, the bed’s old springs screeching with all the movement as your excitement built and you found your hips rocking eagerly in chase of your orgasm.

You felt the man’s strong hips stutter, his movements growing sloppy and labored before they stilled. Strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you down, pressing his cock deep into your heat as he released, a shocking cold seed shooting into you making your back arch with pleasure as you were pushed over the edge, cunt tightening around the man as you flooded the man’s lap with your own spend.

Your pleasured cries in turn made the woman moan and tighten up around your tongue, her hips rocked down against your mouth and she cried out as her cunt spasmed she too came, filling your mouth with a sweet sugary taste.

In an instant both of their touch faded away. The cock inside you slipped out slowly and his touch vanished and the pressure against your face dissipated, gone before you could even figure out what had happened.

Confused and spent you shifted in your place, binds still tightly keeping you in place despite your efforts and panic once again began to seep in. This only increased when you heard the floorboards creak outside of the room.

It wasn’t until you heard your name that you began to feel a bit of relief. The familiar voice of one of your friends echoed through the halls calling out for you.

“In here! I’m in here! Help!” You cried out, struggling against the binds as you heard the doorknob rattle.

“Unlock the door!”

You frowned and struggled a bit more biting your lip as you realized the situation you were currently in.

“I cant…”

“What- You know what fine then stand back.” The voice of your friend seemed annoyed and a bit exasperated but the house was old and with a couple of loud thuds the door gave way, opening up for your friend.

Their eyes went wide seeing you, spread eagle, pants down, mouth and crotch covered in some kind of strange translucent slime while you were bound to the bed and blindfolded.

“What the fuck..?” They wasted no time helping to untie you as you recounted all that had happened to you, at least the best you could. In disbelief yourself about the whole ordeal you got cleaned up, at least as much as you could and the two of you left the house together.

On your way out the door you couldn’t help but take one look back inside. You swore out of the corner of your eye you spotted someone waving from the staircase, but you didn’t stick around to find out if that was true.

Confused, and still a bit frightened, you and your friends left back to the town, not sure you would ever figure out what really happened that day. Nor did you intend to go back and  find out.