#too long to make an edit (not that i know how to do it) had to be this way

[lilacstro]

★ruler of 3rd through houses: your highschool years★

long time no see!! I have recently started an instagram account, you can check it out if you please. I would post more exclusive things in the soon to be started group on Instagram :) lmk if you are sending a request since I do not want scammers or people with malicious intents on there :)

Send post suggestions if you like !! I really do not know why have I not started with Vedic astrology series yet but the thing is, I find it soooo vast that putting it into readable posts becomes so hard idk and I can't come up with topics. I wanted to start with dasha systems and divisional charts but I could not fathom where to start honestly idk. Maybe I have gone more used to making posts through the tropical system.

Paid readings open!!

Today we will see your highschool years through astrology and this may explain why you *were* or *are* a certain way. The planets in your 3rd do add an extra infulence without doubt, but to keep this post more inclusive I would not go over that. However, lmk if you want to see that and I may edit this post. PS: Though there can indicators of things like bullying and being bullied and all other that kinda stuff, I wont be mentioning that here :)) take it as a light post :) and if someone has incidents from school they would love to write, would love it too!!

☆Ruler of 3rd in 1st: Ah very likely to be the "popular" kid, or someone I may say who was heavily involved and present in school. Maybe school was big on playing a major role to your personality development and you had some life altering events in school. You could have drawn attention to yourself as well, or maybe you wanted to be seen. Very easily could have taken the roles of monitors and club leaders etc.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 2nd: Very possible that you were the kind of person who was not very withdrawn yet not quite present. Maybe you were quite reserved in who you talked to during school, but not that you were a loner. You could very well be someone who people found talented in some specific area, especially in things like debate or arts and singing. People could have secretly wanted to befriend you. Very possible that you "seemed" rich or were focused on earning money and it showed in school. Often seen people could admire you from afar, or maybe even crush on you and all that stuff.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 3rd: School could have been an important for you again. Very possible that you and your siblings went to the same school. Apart from this, you again could be someone who is rather smart and studious or is considered smart at the very least. Could have been really outgoing and talkative. Now it is indeed 200% possible that you could be introverted, but as you could grow in comfort, you could become someone who would speak and get along with most people.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 4th: Could have been homeschooled or maybe even your mother taught at the same school, or maybe you did not change too many schools as such and even possible that you studied in a place where you were born or near your home. Now, the ruling planet here actually decides how you could have acted here, which is usually a mix of both extrovertedness and introvertedness. It is possible that school was either very comfortable to you, or maybe you never felt comfortable in school at all, no in between. Not a big friend group, but probably a few real friends that you could have connected to even after school.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 5th: Could be someone who was very involved in extra curriculars and stuff. Great possibility of having dated people in school or appearing attractive to others, them having crushes on you or maybe both honestly. You could actually be someone who very well flunked or I may say rather did not take their classes as seriously. Could be someone who people reminisce about when they look back to their time in high school. A good possibility of being popular or seemingly charming! You could have enjoyed your time in school.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 6th: You could very well be someone who probably faced some difficulties to attend school I feel. Apart from this, you could be someone who no matter what they really do, are hardworking and took school seriously. Hard working, reliable kind of person. It is possible that people in your school asked you for help or favors and stuff quite often. Very possible to have had a mundane school life for many many reasons, maybe nothing too "exciting" and maybe school really did not cater too much excitement, stories or spice in your life.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 7th: The kind of person who talks to everyone, or atleast "knows" everyone and vice versa. People could often come up to you, and you could strike conversations just like that. The kind of person who would always be found in some kind of friend group, and friends with everyone, a large friend group. Some of you could even have found your spouse from school!! No matter if you were extroverted or introverted, you could have had good social skills regardless. Your teachers could actually know you or like you.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 8th: Could be someone who saw breaks and interruptions and hardships to have continues their education. Aloof, introverted and maybe a desire to hide, and not really be seen. The people who are wise beyond their age in school and try to avoid people, especially the ones who do not align with them truly. To be honest, your flairs and attitude and experience in and towards school could see a lot of shifts, maybe you were extroverted and then you became introverted and then extroverted again. Maybe you were someone who had no friends but then had too many friends etc. The end time of school could be important. Not hanging out in big groups at being by yourself mostly.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 9th: Could be someone who attended high school abroad or exchange programs etc or desired to go to college abroad. Probably very aware and serious about moving to university after school. Good at studying and smart, even if you may not intentionally spend time studying, you could be very very good at acing your school comparatively. Someone who was wise, and friendly and had a pleasant time in school, and a good and happy learning experience overall. Friendly, and could have had different kind of friends I must say.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 10th: Ah, outgoing people. Someone who is seen and known by people in school, well liked by most. Even if you are introverted as such, which is unlikely, people could notice you and maybe heard about you or seen you atleast once sometime. Could be someone who hangs out in big groups. Someone whose presence is known by most and many people in school for whatever reasons that may be. Popular people. Teachers could be important, maybe they noticed you, or maybe you pay great attention to them or the relationship is sour all together. The kind of people who are assigned roles and leads in clubs and events, etc. despite of not being the responsible person for that job.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 11th: Friends were important and you made quite a few friends in school yourself. Even if you were not a social person, you still could have found friends, and friend groups. People could feel easy around you, someone who is non judgemental and is friends with everyone, even the seemingly new kids. Always busy with some kind of event or activity or hanging out with friends probably even after school. Someone who probably made others aware about the drama and tea going on, or discussing internet, controversies etc.

☆Ruler of 3rd in 12th: Very possible that you completed your education overseas or you were homeschooled or may be you did not attend school too much. Someone who probably is uncomfortable with attention on themselves, and likes to seemingly merge into the background somehow, even if they may desire to have a complete experience of their surroundings. Zoning out in school often, being aloof by nature or choice, in your own world. Probably despising school or waiting for it to end. On a good note, whatever relationships you formed in school or experiences you had, could have helped you evolve, and grow out of your comfort zone and the bubble you could have kept yourself in, for maybe reasons like "I can't fit in".

take care, xoxo~

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part 7

Summary: Your friend "date" with Jungkook is interesting but thankfully the events from this morning don't prevent you from having a good time. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 3.8K (I'm sorry it's short but I wanted to get it out since it's been way too long) Warnings: No real warnings other than slightly jealous and possessive Jungkook (but we all know that's a good warning 🤭) a/n: It's been fucking four months I'm so sorry 😭 It's been so hard for me to update my series recently since my attention span literally sucks right now so one shots have been a lot easier to get out but hopefully some of you guys are still around to read this story 🥲 p.s. the last third of this isn't edited at all so please ignore any nonsense 😅

After Jungkook and I finally agree on an outfit for me to wear we head off to whatever mysterious location he's taking us to. 

"You gonna pout all the way there?" he teases, pointing out my crossed arms and legs and the fact that I haven't spoken to him since we left. "I told you I hate surprises" I grumble, the feeling of the unknown making me uncomfortable. 

"You've gotta live a little Darling" he teases and goes back to driving. He hands me his phone that's plugged into the aux as a sign for me to put on a playlist and that brings up my mood right away. He chuckles when he sees me put on my favorite song since he knows that music always lifts my spirits.

"You're never gonna get tired of this song are you?" he sighs, this being the twelfth time he's asked. "Nope" I answer, popping the 'p' at the end. "This song came out when you were two years old" he chuckles, trying to clue me in but I don't pay any mind to it. "All the more reason to like it!" I argue back and he shakes his head.

"Perfect Man by Shinhwa is a masterpiece and I will accept no arguments" I say, making my statement on the matter final. 

There's a quiet air that's hung between us for a couple moments before when both bust out laughing. "I swear we never fail to have the same conversation every time I play this song" I point out and he smiles.

"That's because I love watching you defend something with your whole being. It's cute" he says and my throat gets dry. 

This being the first semi flirty comment he's thrown at me since everything happened. Well, besides commenting on how I look because who wants to be told nothing after putting on a cute outfit, even when he's the one who's chosen it. 

His comments have been nothing but respectful so there's no harm in letting him do as he pleases but it's just making this whole friends ordeal a lot harder.

~~~~~~

As we pull up to the place he had kept a secret from me I realize why he had me wear this specific outfit since from the looks of it we've come to some sort of ropes course. 

"I've never been to one of these" I say, marveling at the zip lines, ropes, ladders and pulley systems that are strewn about this forested area.

"Do you wanna give it a try? We can always just go to the restaurant they have here but I thought I would still offer it since I told you I had something fun planned for us" he offers, leaving the choice up to me but I nod my head immediately, really wanting to try it out. 

"Yeah?" he chuckles when he sees my excitement grow. "Yes! Come on let's go!" I say, grabbing his hand and trying to drag him along.

"Wait a second Bunny" he chuckles, holding me back and I watch him as he opens the trunk and grabs a big hoodie for me to wear. "So we don't mess up that pretty little top you're wearing" he says and the playfulness around the statement making my heart skip a beat. 

"I could've brought my own" I say but he shakes his head in protest. "It's easier this way so you don't have to worry about it getting dirty, now arms up" he says and I furrow my brow. "Jungkook I can put it on myself" I laugh but he doesn't find it amusing. "I know, arms up" he orders and I do as he says, laughing at the no doubt comical sight of him struggling with it. 

"You know now that I think about it it's a lot easier to take your clothes off than it is to put them on" he casually says, making me wack him in the arm once the hoodie is on properly. "Friends Jungkook. Or I can go back to calling you Mr. Jeon" I say with an arched brow and he chuckles. "Friends" he agrees and closes the trunk.

"So can we go now?" I ask, glancing over at the course before looking back to him for approval. "Yes Bunny go ahead" he says, giving me the go ahead and following after me as I make a bee line for the equipment room. 

"Hi!" I say excitedly to the guy at the counter when it's my turn to check us in. "Hey, first time?" he chuckles, me looking around at everything with a childlike wonder in my eyes. "Yeah! I honestly didn't even know a place like this existed around here" I admit, Jungkook again taking me to a place I had never been before. 

I guess he really is determined to take all of my firsts. 

"Well I hope you'll come around more often then, there's a whole lot more to experience than just these ropes" he says and in my awestruck state I don't notice the suggestive tone behind his wording. 

"You find something you like?" he asks, my sight going past him and looking at all the harnesses. "I have a friend that's coming in a second so do you think you could get us two?" I ask while pointing at them. 

"Sure, is your friend as pretty as you are?" he asks and before I can even think of a response someone is interrupting our conversation. "I would think so" I hear a deep voice say behind me, his hand placed on my hip in a slight possessive manner making my breath hitch. 

The boy's eyes widen a bit, looking at the dynamic between the two of us and doesn't exactly know what to make of it and decides to go find harnesses for the both of us. 

"What was that?" I ask, whipping around and glaring up at him. "What? We agree to be friends for a little while and suddenly you're ready to jump ship?" Jungkook says, crossing his arms and watching as the boy not so casually glances over at us. 

"He was just being friendly" I scoff, knowing for a fact that he wasn't but playing into this oblivious act I had accidentally fallen into. "Right...friendly" he says in a monotone, not wanting to get into a senseless argument and taking the high road. I don't miss the way his hand balls into a fist for a second before relaxing it once I've decided to drag him over to look at the little souvenirs they have in the shop. 

"Alright here's a harness for you, and one for you sir." the employee says, a flirtatious tone in his voice when he addresses me and a more strict and professional voice when he addresses Jungkook. 

"Did you want some help putting that on?" the boy asks, clearly just taking it as a chance to get closer to me since Jungkook's slight display of possessiveness of me wasn't a big enough clue that we may...or may not be together. "Oh no that's okay, I'm sure you've got other things to do" I deny, stepping into it on my own and in true y/n fashion I end up tripping over one of the straps. 

"Careful Darling" Jungkook says, steadying me on my feet and when I look back over at the boy he's awkwardly frozen with his arms out, having intended to help me but decided against it since he was smart enough to realize that it might not be the smartest idea. 

I look between the boy and Jungkook and see how Jungkook hasn't stopped glaring at him no matter how uncomfortable the boy is. "Looks like you've got other customers to help" Jungkook says, nodding towards the people at the counter, clearly looking to check in just as we did. 

"Right, well let me know if you need anything" he responds, his focus completely on me as he relays his message. "I will" Jungkook jumps in and the boy nervously glances between the two of us before heading over to the counter and helping the group of four that just came in. 

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, my arms crossed over my chest as Jungkook tightens the harness on me, making sure I won't need any 'help' with it later. "He was trying way too hard and he clearly couldn't get a clue about us" he says, his glare still prevalent in his direction. 

"Jungkook there isn't an 'us' right now okay" I say and he sighs. "Keep on telling yourself that" he mumbles quite enough that I couldn't make it out when another crowd comes in. "What was that?" I ask but he quickly brushes it off and herds me out of the store before it gets even more crowded. 

As we wait for the group to now gather in the waiting area outside neither of us have spoken a word to each other, stealing glances every so often since we just can't help it. We're attracted to each other and from my point of view I don't think that's gonna change anytime soon. 

"Alright everyone can I get you all gathered over here?" that same guy from inside the shop calls out and we all do as he says with Jungkook cursing under his breath. "Fucking fantastic, he's our leader" he grumbles but I grab him by the arm and drag him so we can catch up with the group. 

"Come on I thought you said this was supposed to be fun" I say and he sighs, collecting himself and slowly changing his attitude. "Alright I'm sorry Darling" he says, not dragging his feet or sulking anymore and putting that nonsensical jealously out of his head...at least for right now. 

"Alright welcome welcome everyone to BranchBound Adventures! How's everyone doing today?" he asks and we all let out cheers of excitement but what I don't notice is the way that Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile when he realizes again how much I'm loving this already. He takes a mental note to bring me here again soon so he can watch that same childlike excitement bloom again. 

"Excellent, looks like we've got a fun group here today! Well my name is Jayson and this is Kimberly and we're gonna be your BranchBound Buddies, sound good?" he says and I can't ignore the way Jungkook snorts at the title they've been given but it's only loud enough for me to hear thankfully. 

"Behave!" I scold, not wanting to turn this into some sort of immaturity contest when he knows damn well he's a grown ass adult and he should not be acting like this. He holds his hands up in surrender when he sees my glare but can't help but smirk at the fact that Jayson as we've recently found out his name is watching our exchange. 

As the day goes by and we're close to the end of our little ropes course adventure Jayson decides it's now or never and decides to make another move. 

"You've done a great job today! Didn't know you would be so good with ropes" he says, not hiding the fact that he's probably imagining using these ropes on me in a completely different context. "Yeah I didn't know I would be either" I chuckle and look over and see Jungkook glaring daggers into Jayson's forehead while he hooks me up to the zip line.

"Did you want to go nice and slow or fast?" he asks, his eyes drinking me in but I don't pay him any mind as I just watch the way that Jungkook is reacting to our exchange. "Y/n?" Jayson asks, breaking me out of the trance I had been lost in, thinking about what Jungkook would do to me after this if we were together. 

"Sorry what?" I ask and I can tell that he's pretty much starting to get the memo at this point. "Nothing, just tuck your legs in close to you if you want to go faster" he explains and I nod my head and wait while Jungkook gets hooked up to the other line thats parallel to mine. 

"Wanna race?" I challenge him since I know he would never back down from one. "What do I get if I win?" he says with a smirk.

"Whatever you want..." I say nervously and I have a feeling I'm going to regret that. "...but I want ice cream if I win!" I say to wipe away the tension but he brings it right back with his claim if he wins.

"I want a kiss" he says and when he clearly sees the way that I'm gearing up to protest a simple cock of his brow silences that. "You said that I could have anything I want right?" he asks I sigh and nod, my energy to go back on my word dissipating. 

It's just one kiss right?

"Deal" I agree and he can't hold back the smile and vote of confidence it gives him. "Get ready to lose" he says and before I have a chance to argue back Kimberly is counting us off and in my semi scattered state Jungkook takes off before me giving him a ten second head-start. 

"No fair!" I call after him when I'm finally able to catch up and he let's out a hearty laugh. "You're the one who proposed this whole race Bunny" he says making me look away, 'his timing with that nickname is always impeccable', I think to myself as I hide my blush.

"Hurry up!" I hear him call out as he is suddenly a lot further down the line than I am. "Hey!" I laugh, deciding to put that thought away to not sour my mood and just focus on there here and now. 

Once I finally get to the end Jungkook has already gotten unhooked from the zip line and is standing victorious waiting to claim his prize. 

"You only won because you're taller than me" I grumble as if I'm actually upset that he won when in fact the thought of him putting in effort just to kiss me make my heart beat faster. "I thought smaller things were supposed to be more aerodynamic" he teases in response but I huff and stand in front of him, clearly waiting for him to claim his reward. 

"I didn't say when I was going to kiss you" he teases and walks away and back toward the shop where we had first come from since our time is up. "Hey!" I protest again, not liking the slight embarrassment he caused me. 

"Oh come on you'll be okay" he teases as he takes his harness off and then helps me out of mine after. "Whatever" I huff and something behind me catches his eye and before I'm able to turn around he's knocking me off my feet and giving me a rather over exaggerated kiss if you ask me to the point that people are whistling and hyping us up.

I hit on his chest when I'm finally running out of air and he carefully puts me back on my feet and when I catch the sight of Jayson staring at us with an unreadable expression on his face I know now why he did that. 

"You're insufferable" I huff and fix my rumbled clothes from his breathless kiss but he doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. "Interesting response after receiving a kiss that made you blush but I'll take it" he shrugs and we both head back into the gift shop for the last time so Jungkook can no doubt flaunt the fact that from Jayson's point of view we're together. 

Honestly I could care less and I won't deny that it was hot as fuck watching him get angry with the very minimal interactions Jayson and I had but I won't let him have that satisfaction. "Didn't realize you were so insecure" I taunt and make sure his eyes are on me before I look over to where Jayson is still clearly watching us and give him a flirty wave goodbye with Jungkook hurrying to usher me out. 

"I wouldn't be insecure if you were mine already so until then you'll have to be patient with me" he says through gritted teeth, a reaction I was hoping for from that little stunt I pulled. "I can manage" I say and walk off towards the only restaurant here where I'm sure he was planning on taking me and when he follows me and has a hand placed low on my waist to guide me there my suspicions are confirmed. 

"Reservation for Jeon" he says to the host at the front desk and while he looks for it Jungkook's demeanor is a little softer, that soft maturity coming back from having us in a controlled and relaxed environment. "Right this way Mr and Mrs. Jeon" the host says and I practically choke on air at that, the title mistakenly given to me sending my heart into overdrive. 

"Don't worry she's fine, come on Honey" Jungkook reassures the waiter as Jungkook encourages me along to follow him to our table. 

Once we're seated our waiter comes by immediately to bring us water since I had clearly caused enough of a spectacle to garner a hurried solution for my coughing fit. He gives us our menus as well soon after and leaves us be, allowing me some more space to compose myself. 

Jungkook can't hide the smile he's had since my reaction had started and has turn slightly smug at seeing the blush it had caused me. "Shut up" I grumble and take another gulp of water having traded his glass for mind since I had practically drank mine in one go after that. 

"I didn't say anything" he chuckles leaving me glaring at him. "But your face did" I say after having put my almost empty glass back down on the table. "Oh yeah? And what is it saying now?" he asks, leaning forward as if he was giving me a better look at it. 

"It's saying that you're enjoying the fact that I'm still squirming over the thought of being called Mrs. Jeon" I say and he sits back, proud of my intuition. "Impressive Bunny. Better get used to it though" he says cockily and I narrow my eye at him and scoff. 

"You're pretty confident for someone I technically haven't agreed to date" I say but his smirk widens before throwing out a playful 'Yet' and our waiter is back at our table before I have a chance to argue back. 

After the waiter has taken our order and a little while after is bringing out our food our conversations have gone back to what had been seen as normal for us. A slight flirty edge to his words which I not so subtly glare at in response always making him chuckle but it's getting harder and harder for me to want to do that.

Why should I scold him? It's not like I don't want him too...

As we finish up the day with the ice cream I technically did not earn we start to make our way back to his car where he opens the door for me and make it a point to put on my seatbelt so I can still enjoy the cone I'm almost finished with. 

"Thanks Dad" I tease after he's buckled me in like a child and I'm granted a sarcastic smile in return only making me smile harder. He closes the door and gets in on his side and soon we're on our way back to the house...

~~~~~

The ride back is quiet, comfortable but quiet with the only sound being the hum of my playlist coming through the speaker and the gusts of cool air coming through the vents but it's soon broken by the question he's been wanting to ask. 

"Did you have fun?" it's a simple question but I know thoughts of what had happened earlier today are coming back to him as we get closer and closer to the house. "I did, a lot actually. You're not too shabby at planning dates" I confirm and he glances over with a smirk. 

"I thought this wasn't a date?" he counters and I chuckle. "It wasn't until you kissed me" I say and he shakes his head. "A kiss equals a date, got it" he says quietly, tucking that information into his back pocket and I can't help but smile as I see a soft one still rests on his lips. 

~~~~

When we finally pull into the driveway and he turns off the engine I hold onto his arm for a second, asking him to stay in the car for a second so he does and sits back and keeps his eyes on me, waiting for what I have to say.

The thing is is that I don't know what to say, I don't even know why I asked him to stay in here but he just watches me fondly, not rushing anything and waiting patiently for me. 

"I don't think we can be friends" I say, looking down at my lap so I can't see the expression he has on his face. "What do you mean by that Bunny?" he asks, that nickname making my heart skip a beat like it does every time and I shake my head, still looking down at my lap. "I mean, I don't wanna be friends" I say hoping he'll understand and when he lifts my chin I expect him to ask me to explain what I mean but instead I'm met with his lips on mine.

They're not full of passion or lust or anything of the sort. Just pure longing and understanding, understanding of the want to go about things at my own pace, an understanding that he's okay with going slow and that's all I need. 

"We can go slow" he says after we've broken the kiss, audibly confirming what he had physically displayed and I bite back a smile and nod before placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

"Thank you" I whisper and he pulls away to get a better look at me. "Whatever for?" he asks in such a cute way I can't help but laugh. "For not forcing me or making me feel bad about my indecision" I say and he smiles and cups my face, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone, a sad smile on his face at the thought of what I might've gone through with Jared that would require that sense of relief from his actions. 

"I'm sorry about this morning" I say even softer this time and he nods, "I know" and those two words bring me comfort in ways that he couldn't understand even if I told him.

I was scared shitless that I had messed things up, that I had done something that could've damaged us beyond repair but his words and actions from today told me nothing of the sort. 

His maturity shows that he knows what he wants and I want to open up and show him that in return...but I just hope I won't regret it.

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[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، hidden beauty ،، ⌇ 조슈아

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،، you hide but only appear when you smile , where did you come from ? don’t lie , i know you’re an angel ،، .ᐟ 🍨

pairing .ᐟ bf!joshua × gf!fem!reader genre .ᐟ established relationship , admiration of indentation word count .ᐟ 1.1k song rec. .ᐟ dimple - bts

note .ᐟ hii , i know ive been gone for too long , but──i don't where this coming from but , i was shuffling on spotify until dimple come across and i levitate for a moment . jungkook's adlip- hello ?? the whole vocal line ate im afraid . and as i was scrolling through tiktok , joshua appreciation edit appears and i notice his smol dimple so i have to do it .

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The first time Y/N noticed it, she was caught completely off guard.

They had been walking through the park, the sun low in the sky, casting a soft golden hue over the world. Hong Joshua, her lover of three years, was laughing at something, his usually serene face breaking into an unexpected smile. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him smile, of course—she had seen him smile thousands of times. But this smile, this one was different. As his lips curved up, the soft skin on his cheek pulled back ever so slightly to reveal a faint dimple.

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned. How had she never noticed it before?

“What's wrong, dear?” Joshua asked, his laughter dying down as he looked at her, his smile easing back into his more typical calm expression. And just like that, the dimple disappeared, as if it had never existed.

“Nothing,” she murmured, her eyes still tracing the spot where it had been. “I just… never noticed your dimple.”

“My dimple?” He tilted his head in confusion.

“Yeah, right here,” she said, reaching up and gently pressing her fingers to the spot where she’d seen it, brushing her thumb lightly over his smooth skin. “You have a dimple when you smile a certain way.”

Joshua laughed again, and there it was—the small indentation, just deep enough to be noticeable but subtle enough that it could easily be missed. “I’ve never really thought about it,” he said, amused.

Y/N smiled softly, her heart warming at the sight. There was something about it, something about that hidden dimple that felt like a secret just for her—a little treasure that only revealed itself in those moments when Joshua’s guard was completely down, when he was relaxed and happy. She found herself wanting to see it again, and again, and again.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N became acutely aware of how rare that particular smile of his was. Joshua smiled often, of course—he was always warm and kind, his face lighting up with soft grins or gentle chuckles. But the dimple, that hidden mark on his cheek, only appeared when he laughed with genuine joy, when something really caught him off guard or made him truly happy.

It became her little mission, though she never told him. She wanted to see it again. She wanted to bring out that kind of happiness in him, to be the reason for those deeper, unguarded smiles. So, she started doing little things—bringing home his favorite snacks, sending him random funny texts during the day, playfully teasing him when they were together. She even started trying out silly jokes, which, to be honest, rarely worked, but every now and then, she’d strike gold and his laugh would bubble up, rich and full, his dimple appearing for just a moment before fading away again.

One evening, they were lounging on the couch together, Y/N lying with her head in Joshua’s lap while he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. She was in the middle of telling him a ridiculous story about a mishap at work, exaggerating details just enough to make it funnier. She could see him smiling down at her, but not the smile she was really aiming for. His usual, small smile, warm but reserved.

“And then—get this—the whole cake just fell on the floor. Splat. Like, I’ve never seen anything fall that fast,” she said, using her hands to gesture dramatically. “It was like the universe wanted that cake dead.”

Joshua chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a disaster.”

“Oh, it was,” Y/N said, grinning. “But the look on my coworker’s face—priceless. Like she just saw her future flash before her eyes and it involved a lot of cake cleanup.”

And that did it. Joshua burst into laughter, a real laugh this time, one that made his shoulders shake. Y/N's eyes snapped to his cheek, and there it was—the dimple. Soft, barely-there, but perfect. She smiled up at him, her heart fluttering.

“What?” Joshua asked, his laughter still bubbling out as he looked down at her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

“Nothing,” Y/N said, her voice soft. “I just like seeing you laugh.”

Joshua’s smile softened, his laughter fading but the dimple still faintly visible as he looked at her with those warm, understanding eyes. He tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I like it when you make me laugh.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t help but reach up, tracing her fingers along his cheek. “I like your dimple,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Joshua blinked, surprised. “My dimple?”

“Yeah. It only shows up when you’re really happy,” she explained. “It’s like a little secret.”

Joshua seemed to consider that for a moment, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. “I never thought about it that way,” he admitted. “But if it’s a secret, I guess it’s one that only you know now.”

Y/N’s chest swelled with affection, and she smiled up at him, feeling like she’d been given a gift. Not just the dimple, but the knowledge that she could make him laugh like that, that she could bring out that hidden part of him.

From that moment on, Y/N found herself constantly seeking out opportunities to see Joshua’s dimple. It became something of a game, a private challenge she set for herself. She learned what made him laugh, what little things brightened his day. She became a master of silly inside jokes, of playful teasing, of moments that only the two of them shared.

And every time she succeeded, every time she saw that dimple appear, even for the briefest of moments, she felt like she was holding a piece of something rare and beautiful—something that belonged to her and her alone.

In the quiet moments when Joshua wasn’t smiling, when he was his usual composed and calm self, Y/N would sometimes catch herself tracing her fingers over the spot where the dimple would be, as if trying to conjure it back into existence. And sometimes, if he was in the right mood, he’d give her a soft smile, just enough to bring it out again, and she’d laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek, feeling like she had found her very own hidden treasure.

In those moments, she knew—she’d never stop searching for that dimple, for that secret smile, for the hidden joy she knew she could bring to the one person she loved most in the world.

[honeyandthunderstorms]

rec five fics with titles you particularly enjoy!

I've been tagged 3 times now so I feel it is only right to do this challenge lmao anywayssss tagged by these lovelies: @love-mariiii @formulaocean @starrwrrld 💗

where you go, I go by @ladysomething — the famous skyfall edit of charles’ sunset lap x max’s storm lap!!! need I say more? iconic of her to use this lyric as the fic title. also this might be a wip, but its my all time fav lestappen fic. I will suggest this fic to everyone bc its truly amazing.

right where you belong by @amarynas — right where you belong… in max’s arms, Charles. no, but seriously so cute and fluffy with a bunch of angst. Max and Charles deserve to be happy and they get that in this fic and the companion fic 👀

grapefruit mignonette by @slapshots on ao3 (idk if they have tumblr) — named after the food Max makes per suggestion by Charles. he later lists it in his menu “love notes” under “first sight” and my heart squeezed in my chest. also deliously filthy. need i say more? one of the first fics I read in this fandom and I still reread constantly when I want to get my dose of chef max hehe

frechheit by @additiva — I actually love fic titles in other languages and this word literally means cheekiness which Charles is the cheekiest mf alive in this fic. one of my fav fics and I highly suggest it bc AH slightly older max? they're both hissy bitches and I love them.

long live (the walls we crashed through) by @fabbyf1 — taylor swift lyric and one thing you might not know about me is that I fuck heavily with my girl tay tay. also this song is so f1 coded so there’s that. anyways, childhood friends to lovers anyone??? love the rewriting of the narrative. God knew they’d be too strong as friends and made them rivals instead. but this fic? this fic tells the story of them growing up as friends beautifully and how they fall in love.

my bookmarks page wouldn't work on ao3 so I had to go searching lmao anywaysssss no-pressure tags: @beensinning @sediciii @zettychez @qdverti 🫶🏼

[saffusthings]

Baby I Can Feel Your Halo

oscar piastri x personal assistant! reader

summary: the one where the world gets to become familiar with a new name: Y/N L/N. word count: 8.4k warnings: awkwardness, my attempt and poetic writing, poor understanding of how film and media works, Lando as a bit of a side character, poorly edited writing a/n: i can't tell whether this is half decent or nonsensical. inspired by That Viral Interview. i have a soft spot for this part of the story, so i hope you guys are able to like it too.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

She’s going to kill him.

Clicking her phone on to check the time for the umpteenth time as if it will make this stupid elevator go any faster, she lets out a huff. The tapping of her shoe acts as a placebo, perhaps. Or maybe this elevator is actually getting slower-

When the metal gates finally part, she bolts. As gracefully as one can, she awkwardly half-run, half power walks past the hall of doors until she reaches Room 307.

She doesn’t even pretend to knock. Glancing at her phone one more time - 27 calls - she slips a plastic card from the lanyard around her neck. When it beeps, flashing green, the door opens with a click, allowing her to storm in.

To her credit, she at least waits for the door to close before she yells.

“Oscar Jack Piastri!”

Oscar wakes to a fire. Or at least that’s what he has to assume is happening, considering someone is screaming his name at full volume. Eyelids barely open, he immediately sits up in bed. “M’awake! Jesus, give me a second,” he mumbles, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.

Tossing him his pants that had been hanging in his closet, she goes around, picking up any stray items. “Put some pants on,” she grumbles. “C’mon get up, we’re already-”

“-running late,” he says defeatedly, eyes landing on the bedside alarm clock. 

When he finally steps out of the bathroom, his brows are scrunched in confusion. She’s typing something on her phone, and definitely not trying not to look at him.

It’s been over a week since their almost-kiss in her office. She’s no rookie, she’s been more than professional since, knowing she can’t risk this. But a small part of her can’t help but think of how close his lips had been to her anytime she’s standing close enough to smell his familiar cologne. 

She’s interrupted from her thoughts by the sound of Oscar’s voice, her thumb still hovering over her phone from her long forgotten text.

Trying to get the swoop of his hair to land in some sane looking way, he gestures to the pine green spread out for him on the bed, the one she insisted he wear. “You sure about this?”

He watches her as she knits her eyebrows together as she gives him the once over. “Yes. You look good in green,” she explains, still entirely absorbed in sending an e-mail to their media liaison.

It’s only once he’s finally dressed that she gets up and gives him a look over. Her lips purse before she motions for him to stand closer. “C’mere.”

She aligns the seams that are supposed to trace along his shoulder, before using her hands to smooth out any wrinkles in the soft fabric. She stands back for a moment, before coming closer again, and pulling his sleeves up just a bit in a way that exposes some of his forearm. Assessing it one more, and seeming content with how it looks, before doing the same to his other sleeve.

Entirely unaware of the chaos his cardiovascular system seems to be undergoing, she gives him one last look over, and wipes a bit of excess moisturizer that had been left on his nose.

“There we go,” she says with a small smile. 

Grabbing her things, she stands at the door before looking back for him. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, patting his pockets and searching the hastily made bed. “Just…”

“Good to go,” he announces, swiping his phone off the bedside table, and tucking into his pocket before following her into the hall. “Where are we headed?”

“They’ve set up in one of the conference rooms near the swimming pool” she says from over her shoulder as they make their way down. “It’s some Australian channel looking to do a segment on their hometown hero, so it should be a safe set. Of course, if they veer off course, let me know and I’ll take care of it. ”

“Will you be there? Or are you headed back to the office?” Oscar asks. His tone makes it difficult to differentiate whether he's nervous, wary, or doesn’t want her to be there, but he hopes she understands anyway. 

“Yep,” she replies, smiling. Oscar wonders why his chest feels warm. 

“That’s my job, remember?” 

When he gets to hair and make-up, he can’t help but feel more than a little lost. Not because of the makeup, certainly - god knows Hattie has tested more than enough ‘smokey eyes’ on him - but rather because when he sits in the chair, the woman immediately asks what kind of look he wants to go for.

Huh?

He looks over to Y/N with desperate eyes. 

Help me, please.

She’s quick to walk over and greet Lindsay, his stylist for today, with a warm smile. Once she’s sure that the stylist is okay with taking recommendations, the rest of it comes easily.

“We’ll wanna do some powder to counter the glare from the studio lights,’ she suggests, glancing at the woman for approval. Tilting Oscar’s face, the two women survey him analytically.

“It’s up to you if you want to add a little warmth, but no blush or color corrector or anything like that. And then his hair looks good like this, so we don’t need to do anything there. How does that sound?”

The elder woman nods in agreement before pointing at different parts of Oscar’s face and mumbling somethings to Y/N who nods along thoughtfully. 

Finally, he’s left at the mercy of his stylist, as Y/N walks away.

Once the mic checks are complete and the people behind the large lights give the go ahead, one of the employees counts off the seconds before the cameras start recording.

Oscar spends those seconds looking over to wherever she is. She’s stood by one of the people carrying a large white panel, watching on to make sure everything runs smoothly. They’ve done this dance probably dozens of times, but the buzzing lessens once he assures himself that she’s still in the vicinity. 

He watches her nod, giving him a reassuring smile, and then, Oscar is ready.

“And cameras are rolling 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.”

“We’re here now with Oscar Piastri,” the host says with a warm smile, “now in his second year of representing Australia in the highest level of motorsport - Formula One. Thank you so much for joining us, Oscar.”

“Of course, thank you for having me,” Oscar smiles, that polite cat smile that’s become associated with his name. “Just Oscar, is usually fine though,” he jokes, never one to feel too comfortable with high praise. The host laughs good naturedly, “Oh, the boy’s got jokes now, does he?“ Oscar seems to glow in the spotlight. Something about him, even in front of  the cameras, seems to radiate comfort, familiarity. Even on TV, even with his rising stardom, his laidback posture and the crinkle around his eyes when he smiles suggests that he could be the boy next door, that he could be your boy next door. The cameras are not the only thing focused on him. “So Oscar, not sure if you remember, but you did a sit-down with us last year as well.” “Of course. I don’t forget that easily, Mick,” the driver replies easily. “I’m not that old.” “No, no, in fact, you’re quite young aren’t you? Only 23 and already in your second year of Formula 1.” “Yeah, feels a bit strange when you say it like that,” Oscar chuckles, “but yeah. It’s been a bit of a wild ride.” Mickie smiles. “One year closer to retirement, I imagine?”

“God no,” Oscar scoffs, shifting in his seat to get a bit more comfortable. He looks more relaxed this way, more open. “I’m not leaving without a championship, so you’ll be seeing me around for a while. Sorry to disappoint.” Laughing good naturedly, the older man shakes his head. “Far from it. You’re a hometown hero. You’ve got everyone here rooting for you,” he tells him, gesturing to the crew around them.” Smiling gratefully, Oscar nods. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty lucky with all the support. That always makes a difference.” “I’m sure it does. Who would you say are your biggest supporters?” “My parents, for sure. I’m sure there’s a clip of my mom talking about my… let's call them oddities, as a child,” Oscar laughs, referring to his habit of make-believing as a car around the house, or how he wanted car magazines read to him instead of bedtime stories. “If they hadn’t put up with me through that, there’s no way I’d be here now.” It’s clear as day that beneath the thin film of humor, there’s a chasm of sincerity. He really does love his family - always making time to call them during long trips away or even just because. Working on media with Oscar is (usually) pleasant for that same reason - you don’t have to give him PR-written responses or pre-plan his anecdotes to make the audience fall in love with him. He tells the truth, and they can’t help but fall in love all on their own. “I’ve also got other supporters too. Silent supporters, I guess you could call them, since you all don’t see their faces as much. But my sisters, my team, Y/N, the fans - they are the reasons I get to live my dream everyday.” Mickie nods in acknowledgement. “Of course. Though I see we’re name dropping now,” he teases. Oscar looks up at him, mild panic hidden behind his eyes. He’s only just about to adjust his cap - a predetermined signal to Y/N that he needs her to intervene somehow - when Mickie interrupts his train of thought. “You mentioned Y/N as one of your supporters. Could you tell us a bit more about that?” When Oscar looks at the man with the salt and pepper hair, he doesn’t see the usual malice or hunger that many reporters would have if they had been in the same position. Mickie has been good to him and his team in the past - not coming off as a dog with a bone, but instead as an easy conversationalist who happens to be genuinely curious about Oscar and his life. The young driver recovers easily from his momentary scare. “Oh, yeah. Y/N’s definitely one of my greatest supports. I’d tell you all that she works for me, but I think she might poison my coffee if I did that.” The two share a laugh, easing Oscar’s nerves a little. He subtly adjusts his watch instead.

It’s alright, I got it.

From behind the cameras, Y/N takes a small breath of relief. Though she’s pleased the conversation didn’t take a turn for the rumor mill, she’ll still be a little on edge anytime her driver is in the media’s playpen.

“Alright then. Without risking your coffee, what can you tell us then? That’s not a name we’ve heard too often around the paddock.”

“Yeah, I mean. It’s a shame too - she’s supposed to be my assistant, but with how much she’s involved in everything, we might have to come up with a better title for her,” Oscar smiles easily. Mickie gives him a smile, straightening his notecards into a neat stack. “Is that so? Must be high praise, coming from a big-shot like yourself.” The air is pleasant, the conversation flowing naturally. Even as an observer, the scene could almost be mistaken for a casual chat in a living room somewhere. Oscar shakes his head. “Not enough, actually. When I say I wouldn’t be here without her, I mean it literally. If she hadn’t come to my rescue this morning, I’d probably still be in bed!” Mick leans over, laughing. “Glad to see how much you value our time here together, Oscar!” “Even if I did, I value my sleep more,” Oscar deadpans, a sly smile on his face. “I don’t envy her job, not in the slightest.” “Fair enough, fair enough.” The conversation makes its own way from there - Oscar’s goals for this year, what people can expect from the team this season, how the new car has been. 

“So what I’m hearing is that we have a promising season ahead?”

“I mean, every season looks promising at the start really, but yeah, I have a good feeling about this one. Cautiously optimistic, we’ll call it.” “Well I’m sure I’m not the only one when I say that I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us this season, Oscar.” “Wow, no pressure there. Thanks, though.”

The two share a laugh. It’s getting closer to the end of the segment, but with some time remaining. Mickie decides to take the conversation in a different direction. “Now that we’re done with all the shop talk.” he starts. “I was wondering if you could tell us what Formula 1 has been like for you personally. Last time around, during your rookie season, you mentioned that the intensity of the training and the magnitude of the races were some of the things that took some getting used to. Would you say the same is true now, or have you gotten used to it?” Oscar nods, thoughtful. “Yeah, I mean, your rookie season is always an adjustment. It took me some time to get used to that stuff, and I’d say I’m better at it now,” he answers honestly. “But that doesn't mean there aren’t still things I’m learning to get used to.” “What kind of things?” “As you can probably tell, the time zones are one thing,” he laughs, animatedly gesturing to where his eye bags would be. For a second, there’s silence as he’s given a moment to think, before he finally speaks again. “I’d say the people, too.”

“The drivers, the teams, or the fans?” Mick asks curiously. “The fans are pretty great,” he tells him. “But I think I meant like the drivers and their teams?”  Oscar tries to explain. “Like, you have to understand that there’s so many people in this complex machine that is Formula 1. And every single person that’s there, is because they’ve got this insane drive to win - that includes the drivers, of course, but the engineers, and the strategists, and the trainers too.”

“Tell me a bit more about that.”

“I mean, like, even in Formula 2, with Prema, there was a certain level of friendship and camaraderie that gets overshadowed in Formula 1, because of just how competitive everything is,” he explains, gesturing with his hands. “It’s crazy how the drivers flip a switch for lights out or the chequered flag, because that’s what comes with competing at the highest level.”

The host nods, making an effort to understand.

“Would you say it strains relationships then? This sort of… dual personality that you and the other drivers have to have?”

“Honestly. To some degree, I imagine it has to. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly with one another.”

“You’d mentioned earlier this year, in an interview with your company Quadlock, actually, where they asked you if you had any mates on the grid, and you replied with…” Oscar chuckles shyly, recalling the moment. “No friends, only enemies,” he quotes himself. “Exactly,” the older man chuckles. “Would you say the same is true for you now?” “The honest answer would be yes and no.” The man sitting across from Oscar raises an eyebrow at this, intrigued. “When you live in that bubble with people that are, at their core, just as competitive as you are..” he trails off, contemplating how to phrase it. “Let’s just say it has an interesting way of showing you who your friends and your enemies are.”

“And has it?” Mick asks genuinely. “Shown you your friends, I mean?” Oscar takes a breath before replying. “I mean, of course. There’s Lando, y’know - as my teammate, he’s always my greatest competitor but also the only one who can kind of understand where I’m coming from. Logan, also - you know we grew up through the lower Formulas together. He and I have been teammates in the past too, so it’s nice to have an old friend on the grid. Y/N too, y’know - we’re pretty close in age, and she’s really been there for the highs and the lows.”

“We’ve seen you interact with Logan and with Lando, but what would you say your friendship with Y/N is like?”

“I mean, we work together, so a lot of it comes from that,” he shrugs, not wanting to slip up and say the wrong thing. He signed up for the spotlight, but putting his assistant, his friend there without discussing it with her would be unfair.

“We work in tandem, you see - she takes care of everything outside the car, while I take care of everything in it.”

The interviewer hums thoughtfully. “That sounds like a dynamic that requires a lot of trust, I’d say.”

“Maybe, but she hasn’t let me down even once in two years.” For a moment, for a fraction of a second it feels like Oscar’s eyes glance in the direction of where she’s standing with the tech crew, but it must be a trick of her imagination. They’re standing in the shadows, and it’d be a stretch for her to think that he could even see her in the first place. “Not even once.”

“Would you say your friendship complicates this dynamic, or simplifies it?”

“Helps, definitely. Easier to get out of media duties that way,” Oscar jokes. Mickie laughs easily at that, before focusing on the subject once again.

“Really?  You two don’t face any challenges with that? I’d imagine with the other drivers that that boundary is a bit more clear, what with them being your competitors and all.” Oscar lips press together, his tongue subtly running over his lower lip to soothe the pressure. “I think maybe if it were someone else, then it would be. But not with her.“

Looking over to the armchair, he can see that the other man looks surprised. 

“You seem quite confident in saying that.”

“I am,” he says bluntly. Why wouldn’t he be?

“And what inspires that confidence?”

“Just who she is, really, “ Oscar answers with a shrug. On the other side of the room, Y/N waits for a signal that never comes. 

What the hell is he doing? 

This was most definitely not one of the agreed topics for tonight’s show.

“How do you mean?” Mickie can’t help but inquire.

“I mean the obvious thing to say here would be to say that we’re close in age,” Oscar starts, gesturing. “But it really is more than that. I’m lucky to work with an immensely talented team, especially with all the fresh talent McLaren’s brought on board this year.”

“Of course.”

“But as for her in particular…” The blonde seems to think for a minute. “I think, that in order for someone to understand how we work, they’d have to understand how she works,” he muses.

“And how’s that?”

“She’s like the light you need in order to see. With her perspective, her input,  the fundamental way in which she operates - things make sense. She makes things make sense, really - whether that’s logistically, or with the car, and especially with me.”

The words tumble out of his mouth before he can even know what he’s thinking. The tricky thing about this cozy lounge setup that he’s seated in is that, from her,  it looks nothing like the studios and press conferences and media pens that they’re used to. Here, there are no clambering reporters, no flashing cameras, no microphones shoved in his face.

It’s easier to forget that the world is watching.

“It’s a bit unfortunate that the fans watching this don’t get to see her as we do,” he says with a serious expression. “Because it’s hard to describe her personality, or even just her role if you haven’t existed in her orbit. There’s this… this spark that ignites with everything she interacts with.”

Oscar finds himself thinking of everything that happened on the road so far, every step that led them here. All he knows for certain is that his confidence is not unfounded. Sure, things were… less than ideal at the moment, but they’d go back to normal. He knew they would, he was sure of it.

Not so much because Oscar had a plan, but rather because he didn’t know what to do if they didn’t. They’d figure it out - that was their thing, after all.

He’s disturbed from his thoughts by the voice of another.

“A spark?” the older man prompts with a smile.

It’s almost frustrating when the words don’t come fast enough to keep up with his mind.

“When you’re expected to function at the highest levels, there’s a lot of moving parts underneath the shiny cover that no one really tells you about. Y/N has this intuitive sense and this unlearnable skill to take apart the most challenging complexities and put them back together into something wonderful.”

The studio falls silent. 

“She sounds lucky,” Mick offers sincerely.

Oscar laughs dryly. “The way I see it, I’m the lucky one. McLaren certainly is.”

Mickie’s expression is open, leaving the silence available for him to fill.

Oscar, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how they ended up here. Talking about Y/N wasn’t a preplanned part of the segment, but he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s surprisingly nice to talk about something besides how hot it is in the car or the rabbit food  athletes have to eat or his opinions on the championship standings. 

And it probably doesn’t hurt that talking about her is really quite easy.

“It’s an incredible gift to meet someone who complements each of your strengths and your weaknesses completely. And if that person happens to be someone who can somehow challenge you and support you simultaneously, then there’s nothing more that I need.”

The boom mic edges closer to the stage setup, careful not to enter the cameras’ parameters of visibility. There’s a shift in tone that’s apparent, something curious and authentic that seems to wash across the studio and everyone in it.

“Will we be seeing this dynamic duo in action anytime soon then?” the interviewer asks, charismatically guiding the conversation towards its conclusion.

“I sure hope so. Maybe you guys can finally convince her to do some of those McLaren challenges with us,” Oscar smiles widely, that dorky, lopsided smile of his. “Trust me, I tried, but somehow she won’t let me drive her around for a Hot Lap. Wonder why that is,” he shrugs, before both men share a laugh.

A hand in the dark silently signals for them to wrap up, indicating that the segment must come to an end.

“Well then, Oscar I see we’re being told to wrap,” he smiles, glancing over in the direction of the crew. Both men begin to go to stand up, extending their arms for a friendly handshake.

“Thank you so much for joining us once again. As always, it was a pleasure, and I know I speak for everyone here at Down Under Daily when I say that we can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.”

Oscar nods, smiling, giving the man a firm handshake. “Thank you.”

Once the segment wraps up and the overhead lights come back on, the studio buzzes with the hum of activity. Uniformed crew members unpack and disassemble various machines and setups, beginning to clear out the studio. Oscar glances around, but his gaze keeps drifting back to Y/N, who stands a few feet away, chatting with one of the technicians. Her laughter cuts through the noise, bright and genuine, making something warm unfurl in his chest.

“Hey,” he calls out, a casual attempt to draw her attention. When she turns, their eyes lock, and for a moment, the world around them blurs. There’s something in her expression that sends a jolt through him, a flicker of recognition and a hint of something deeper.

“Hey,” she replies, her smile easy but layered, like they’re sharing some inside joke that only they understand. He shifts slightly, suddenly a bit squirmish under her undivided attention.

Not that he gets squirmish, of course. Oscar is the picture of cool and collected.

As her eyes scan him, she notes the slight flush of his skin, the way the muscles of his face are tense ever so slightly. It’s honestly a bit refreshing to see someone who isn’t always unfazed by it all, she thinks. She does her best to offer him a reassuring smile.

“That went well,” she comments, her voice carrying a lightness that contrasts with the tension simmering beneath the surface. It’s the kind of praise that makes him feel seen, but also a bit exposed.

“Thanks. Couldn’t have done it without you,” he responds, his tone sincere. Oscar isn’t one of those fools who thinks the whole orchestra runs around him. Even  if it did, his mother didn’t raise him to be any bit unappreciative to everyone who works behind the scenes for his successes. He knows she’s more than just an assistant; she’s the one who keeps everything in motion, the anchor in the chaos.

Her gaze lingers on him, and for a moment, the air between them thickens. He’s acutely aware of the distance that’s very much there, yet it feels charged, like static before a storm. “I just do what I can,” she says softly, brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear—an action so simple, yet watching it feels intimate.

Oscar looks away.

The moment stretches, and he senses a shift, a palpable tension that neither of them is ready to address. Memories of their almost-kiss hang between them, unacknowledged yet ever-present. He wonders if she feels it too, this strange blend of familiarity and hesitation.

The silence is uncomfortable in a familiar way, like the awkward pause that occurs when you can’t decide who should speak first. Oscar even opens his mouth to try to say something - though he’s not sure what - Y/N beats him to it.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks, her tone casual, but he detects a deeper curiosity behind her question.

“I guess just… figuring things out,” he replies, glancing down for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. There’s moments in the midst of the whirlwind of fame and fortune where it all truly feels surreal. Young Oscar always aspired to go fast, to push himself to the limit, to win, but this?

The spotlight, the admiration , the respect, the expectations? It was almost overwhelming, a heavy medal hanging around his neck that he’s still not used to wearing. Especially with the number of people that work day and night to give him a fighting chance at making his childhood dreams into reality, there’s no greater expectation than the one Oscar places on himself.

“Trying to get it right still, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, nodding, her eyes searching his. There’s an intensity in her gaze that makes his heart race, as if she’s peering into the part of him he keeps to himself. Briefly, he wonders if she can read his thoughts sometimes.

Like on one of those teleprompters they use for broadcasts and award shows.

He wants to say more, to delve into this strange thing swirling between them, but the words feel stuck, caught in a web. The awkwardness between them might as well be a loose screw in his car - keeping him at the edge of his seat as he navigates the clunkiness that replaces the flow he’s used to. “I keep waiting to get used to it, but it never seems to happen,” he says finally, hoping to keep the conversation light.

“True,” she agrees, her smile faint but genuine. “But you manage.”

“Most of the time,” he admits, letting out a soft laugh that feels half-hearted, both playful and tinged with something meaningful. Oscar may have grown into this suave, clever, mature personality that he’s recognized for, but there are times when he still feels like the lanky teen with the acne and the too-short hair that climbed into a Formula car that very first time.

As the crew clears the set, Y/N steps back, her focus shifting to the flurry of activity around them. Oscar feels the space between them widen, the moment suddenly dissipating like a whisk of smoke. He wants to reach out, to anchor her back to him, but the tide of reality keeps them away.

“Ready to head out?” she asks, her voice interrupting the stream 0f his personal thoughts. 

“Yeah,” he replies, an uncharacteristic hesitation slipping into his tone. He can feel the warmth radiating off her, and the longing rises within him, a familiar ache that refuses to fade. He elects to ignore it, in favor of using long strides to catch up with her quick ones to follow her out into the hall.

Oscar steals a glance at Y/N, her profile illuminated by the fluorescent lights, and he wonders what it would be like to bridge that gap. He recalls what it had been like the last time he'd been in such proximity to her - felt the warmth of body, the coolness of her breath, the ghost of her lips. For now, though, he settles into the silence, allowing the moment to hang between them.

Y/N leans against the small counter in her hotel room, the yellow light from the lamp seeming to warm the place. She stares at her phone, buzzing with a handful of messages, but her mind is tangled in thoughts of today’s interview. Hearing him casually mention her, smiling as he spoke, had left her feeling a mix of pride and confusion.

As she pours herself a cup of hot tea, she replays the almost-kiss in her mind - the way his breath had caught for just a moment. It felt like a line had been crossed, but they hadn’t addressed it. It hung in the air between them like an uninvited guest, and the last thing she wanted was to ruin the good thing they had.

Her phone buzzes again, the sixth time in the last half hour. This time, however, the contact name reads: Oscar. “How’s your evening?”

“Trying to figure out the chaos that is my notes,” she replies, glancing down at loose pages, and spiral books that are splattered across the coffee table.

“You always have chaos in your notes. It’s part of your charm.” His teases, knowing full well that no matter how chaotic her notes were, they were somehow still always loads better than his hurried scrawl.

The tone of the conversation feels light, teasing, friendly - but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t feel like something more—an unspoken understanding that neither of them wants to acknowledge.

“Charm, huh? I prefer to think of it as organized chaos.” She takes a sip of the warm herbal tea, now having cooled down to the temperature of her liking. It’s grounding these little rituals - which reminds her that she still needs to change out of her work clothes, maybe shower and do some skincare…

“Sure, if that makes you feel better,” he replies easily. Even just reading the words, she can practically hear the laughter in his voice. 

A moment later, he decides to add, “I was just about to put something on the TV. You in?”

In a hotel room just a ways down the hall, Oscar’s heart rate increases. What the hell are you doing? He chides himself. He feels stupid - things were already weird, and now he probably just made them even weirder.

Relax, he has to tell himself. This isn’t new - in fact, this is normal. Like before - friends, just relaxing together after a long day of work. Airplane games of monopoly, friday happy hours, movie nights - all of this was perfectly normal. Right?

Thumbs still hovering over her keyboard, she hesitates. The idea of sitting together, sharing popcorn and laughter, sounded nice, but there was the lingering possibility that things would be strange instead.

Instead she types out, “Maybe. What are you watching?”

She could use a night off, after all.

“Something mindless, one of those cable shows they have on this thing. You know, to balance all the brainpower we exert during the week.”

She had to admit, he did make it sound inviting.

“Mindless does sound good. I’ll join you.”Oscar props himself up a bit better, leaning back on his elbow. The smile on his face is lit up by the blue light of his phone screen as he reads her reply. Forcing himself out of the unexpectedly comfortable position he’d evolved into, he gets up, phone in hand, before starting to work to make his hotel room look a tad more presentable.

He was not having a repeat of this morning.

He types out a reply. “Great. I’ll set it up.”

There is a brief pause, and he wonders if he should clear the air, just in case. He really does just want to have a relaxing evening with her - it had been a long time since they last had the chance. Conjuring up some courage, he types out another message to her. “So, about the interview…”

Reading that, Y/N’s heart races. She didn’t want to overanalyze his words, but it was impossible not to. She decides to go for the safe answer. “You did well. Really.” So maybe he was just overthinking it. The praise lifts some of the weight off his chest.

“Thanks. Felt good to share some insights. And the part about you… well, it was true.”

Had he really meant all of it?

There’s a fluttering sensation in her stomach. “Just doing my job.”

“No, really. It means a lot to me. You’ve been here through so much of it.”

The sincerity of his words has her forgetting this tension for a moment, allowing it to slip into the back of her mind. They had a rhythm, a friendship built on shared experiences, but now it felt precarious.

“I just want you to succeed, Oscar,” she tells him, words honest. “That’s all.”

“And you’re doing your part brilliantly. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His words hang in the air, thick with unspoken feelings. He’s said those same words a thousand times before, but for some reason, this one makes her heart skip. She shifts her weight, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. 

“So, movie?” she suggested, wanting to steer the conversation away before she can get too caught up in her own messy thoughts..

“Right. I’ll get it ready.” 

Rustling the duvet to make it appear slightly less misshapen. One of his hands seeks the remote to see what’s on at this time, and tries to pick the most tolerable option. Happy with his choice, he stalk over to the other side of his room, the show in the background acting as welcome background noise.

He then pulls out two packets of microwaveable popcorn from the welcome basket that had greeted him when he checked into the room, popping each of them into the microwave so the snack would be warm by the time she arrived.

Y/N stands outside the door to Oscar’s hotel room, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. Sure, she could use her emergency key card, but she decides that knocking feels less criminal. She knocks, and immediately the door creaks back to reveal his familiar face. His hair is mussed up, loose locks flopping to one side or the other. Her eyes are fogging with sleep, but  the smile he wears is warm and  sweet.

“Hey! Look who made it,” Oscar teases, stepping aside to let her in.

“Thought I’d save you from another night of mediocre cable,” she replied, a playful smile on her lips. 

She hopes it comes less nervous than she feels.

“Trust me, you’re in for a treat. It’s ‘Chef’s Disaster’ tonight. Guaranteed chaos,” he says,  leading her to the couch.

When she glances at the television that’s playing, she finds scenes of various chefs - forgetting ingredients, leaving the stove on too high,  accidentally dropping their dishes.

“Ah, the best kind of TV,” she laughs, settling in beside him. The pair of them end up on opposite sides of a generously-sized, two-seater couch. Her mind begins to whir, trying to figure out if she’s sitting too far, if it’s too late to scoot a bit closer, would that make things weirder? But when she looks over to Oscar, his relaxed figure sprawled across his side of the couch, the knot in her chest loosens a little. She allows herself to get more comfortable, curling up on her seat. Finally breathing a little bit easier, she allows herself to lean back against the cushioning.

The show flickers on, and they immediately fall into a comfortable rhythm. Y/N reaches for the bowl of popcorn he’d prepared, gathering a handful of pieces to then to slip into her mouth.

They watch as the chefs try to organize their chaos into something presentable, laughing as they watch one of the younger contestants put an unseasoned chicken into the oven.

What happened to salt? Pepper? Common sense?

In the darkness of the room, their faces are lit up only by the glow of the changing scenes flickering across the TV screen. With a subtly yawn, Oscar stretches his arms, before one coincidently drapes itself across the back of the couch, right behind Y/N’s shoulders. He can feel how her hair tickles the skin of his forearm, but it only makes him smile. He’d missed this - time together, the two of them. Life had a funny way of making people feel so close and so far all at once.

When she can’t help but giggle at someone who’d forgotten to put the lid on their blending before powering it on, Oscar can’t help but look at her.

Even at this awkward distance, even with her too far to touch - he feels lucky. He’d be happy to stay like this - to only hear her laugh instead of causing it, to watch her smile from the sidelines -  just to get to be in her orbit at all. 

He wonders if the world might stop spinning on its axis if that wasn’t the case.

His certainly would.

“Okay, chef,” Oscar said, nudging her. “What’s your go-to dish?”

Turning to glance at him, she can’t help but smile. Oscar’s smile is contagious like that, she supposes.

She hums, thinking over his question for a moment.

“Honestly? I make a pretty decent chicken alfredo. You’d be impressed,” she replied, a hint of pride in her voice.

“Pasta, huh? Fancy,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at her. His heart does a strange fluttery thing when she laughs. “The only thing I can make reliably is scrambled eggs,” he admits, chuckling.

“Hey, scrambled eggs are a classic! Hell, all the eggs I make end up scrambled. But you should branch out,” Y/N says with mock seriousness, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I should give you cooking lessons sometime.”

“Deal,” he says, his tone shifting slightly. Raising his hands defensively, he adds, “But no promises on the outcome.”

As they watch the chefs struggle with absurd challenges, the initial awkwardness begins to fade. They exchange jokes about the contestants, their laughter echoing off the walls. They laugh until their stomachs hurt, adding in their own commentary until there are tears in their eyes and their cheeks hurt from laughing. “I actually hate you,” she wheezes, throwing her couch cushion at him. “My nonexistent abs hurt, you asshole. Can’t you be a little more considerate?”

He catches her projectile weapon with an exaggerated ‘oof’, defending himself. “I was just providing valuable insights, really.”

The silence that settles thereafter as they try to catch their breaths is comfortable in the way that graceful snowfall is - familiar and calming, peaceful.

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever cooked?” he asks, turning to her.

Y/N has to hold back a giggle, recalling a memory. She can’t remember how long its been since she was able to let loose like this. “I once tried to make soufflé. I think by the time I was done with it, it fell under the legal definition of what the pros call, ‘hazardous materials.’”

Oscar bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s a tragedy! You should’ve brought it here as a surprise.”

“I’m sure. Next time, I’ll bring my ‘signature’ dish,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

Tilting her head back, she lets her eyes slip closed for a second just basking in whatever this is. It’s difficult to think of the right word for it, but quite frankly, she doesn’t care. She just wants to bottle it up and keep it with her forever. Just as they start to find that comfortable groove, a sharp knock interrupts them. Immediately, they both lift their head to turn to look in the direction of the offending sound.

“You expecting someone?” Y/N asks, her heart sinking slightly. She tries to push the feeling away. “Who is it?”

“Probably someone who doesn’t know the meaning of ‘do not disturb,’” Oscar grumbles, shaking his head as he gets up to walk over to the door.

He stands up and walks toward the door, leaving Y/N to focus on the flickering screen. But her mind drifted back to the lingering tension between them, their easy banter feeling suddenly fragile.

She nervously fixes her hair, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. Making sure she looks professional enough - and not like they were sitting a mere centimeter apart - she turns toward the door. Finally, he slides the pin aside, unlocking the door as he pulls it back.

“Who is it?” she asks him quietly.

There’s a pause for a moment, before Lando’s familiar voice calls through. “It’s me,” he replies, and Oscar seems visibly annoyed. Lando peers over Oscar’s shoulder, noting Y/N perched on one of the couches in the room.

Good, both of them were here. That’d make this a bit easier.

“You need to see this,” Lando tells them, careful to keep his tone even. Oscar nods, stepping aside and opening the door wider to allow Lando in.

“Yeah, of course. Come on in,” she replies at the same time, making sure she looks presentable. Hopefully whatever Lando has to say will save her from whatever awkwardness was probably about to ensue.

Lando pushes into the room and instantly notices that the vibe is… something. It’s *very* obvious that he’s interrupted something, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

Interesting. He files the information away for later.

Instead, he holds his phone out in front of him, a news article pulled up on the screen.

“What is it?” Oscar asks, his gaze flickering between Lando and the screen.

Lando points to the small picture in the article, and Oscar’s jaw clenches, the muscle on the side of his face visibly pulled tight. Lando observes his teammate’s reaction, before he looks over to meet Y/N’s eyes. 

“You might want to read this,” he says gently, his voice low. “You’re mentioned in it.”

That doesn’t sound right.

“I- What?”

Lando briefly wonders what the likelihood is that the ground will physically swallow him whole. Or that he might turn invisible. Or anything that means he doesn’t have to explain this.

“I don’t-“ He cuts off, struggling to put his words together, sighing. “I don’t know how they got their information, but some of these details…”

Seeing Lando - normally smiley Lando - looking so painfully neutral despite the anxiety that flashes in his eyes, feels deeply unsettling. Like dark clouds at a wedding or an empty chair at a birthday party, seeing Lando like this feels ominous, wrong.

He hands her the phone, watching her as she takes it and begins to scan the text. Words and letters blend into a blur, her eyes reading through the article - speculation after speculation on her current health status and how she got hurt. It reads less like news and more like pure gossip tabloid rumors. 

There’s an odd sinking in her chest, some muscle winding itself tighter and tighter.

She can’t stop reading it, standing eerily still. Hidden amongst this clear violation of the privacy she’s held sacred for so long are some very specific facts that only Oscar and a select few other people should be able to know and recognize. 

“This is-“ she starts quietly, her breath hitching in her chest.

It’s quiet. “This is bad.”

Her eyes continue to scan the article, and her mouth goes dry. Even when she knows it’s all mostly bullshit, there’s still a part of her that feels a little violated, like there’s suddenly not enough oxygen in the room. This is her life - her past and her trauma put on display. The most traumatic years of her life suddenly available for the whole world to read about. 

She reads it yet another time, uselessly hoping for something to change, for the words to transform or dissipate like the final wisps of a nightmare.

“One has to ask—can you really call it a "dream job" when it lands you in the ER? Y/N L/N is clearly in need of a reality check. Whispers from insiders paint the picture of a young woman entangled in a life of chaos, fueled by impulsive decisions and reckless relationships. Is she simply a victim of her surroundings, or is there a more troubling narrative at play? Recently, Y/N was hospitalized with troubling injuries: extensive bruising and a suspected concussion, allegedly the result of a wild night that spiraled out of control. Sources suggest her aggressive tendencies may have exacerbated the situation, raising alarms about her behavior and its implications for McLaren. As Y/N navigates her tumultuous life, her influence over rising star Oscar Piastri comes into question. McLaren must now confront the uncomfortable truth: her erratic behavior could endanger Piastri’s career and the team’s reputation. The last thing they need is a scandal, especially when they’re striving for excellence on and off the track. The team's efforts to sweep this under the rug hint at deeper issues within their camp. Insiders are growing increasingly concerned that Y/N’s instability could tarnish McLaren’s hard-earned image, especially as rumors circulate. As Y/N begins her recovery, the pressure mounts on McLaren to manage the fallout. Fans and sponsors alike are watching closely, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Ultimately, the future for Y/N is uncertain. Will she take this opportunity to change her trajectory, or will she continue to spiral, jeopardizing not only her own future but also the stability of McLaren? The racing world waits with bated breath, knowing that every decision could have lasting consequences.”

Lando’s expression is sympathetic as he watches her pale. Something guilty settles in his gut - he knows he didn’t cause this, but he doesn’t know how to protect her from it either. Lando has always held loyalty so close to his chest - growing up famous at such a young age forces you to learn that lesson quickly.

It's easy, then, to understand why Lando is the way he is. He's known for his friendly personality - his charismatic charm and his easy laugh - but there are a select few which Lando considers his closest friends. Those are people he answers even in the middle of the night, the ones he’d fly across the world to be there for.

But Y/N is standing in front of him like the very ground  has been pulled from beneath her feet and he can’t do a fucking thing. 

“Um, it’s- it’s okay,” she stammers, voice shaky. She tucks her hair behind her ears again, but they were never loose in the first place. A fragile mask of calm slips over her face, a familiar trick she’s performed thousands of times before

“I can take care of this. I- I’ll take care of this.”

Her heart feels like it’s stuttering in her chest but she knows better than to show it. Taking a short breath, she whirls around to make a beeline for her office. She’ll need to make a few calls, send emails to various liaisons and communication personnel, maybe reach out to HR and PR too-

“Hey, hey, stop.” Oscar reaches out and gently wraps his fingers around his bicep, spinning her around gently to face him. His eyes are worried as he searches hers for something true. He’s seen her upset before, but now her face is pale in a way he’s never seen before.

“Oh, right,” she chuckles awkwardly, suddenly remembering. “Lando, your phone.”

She holds the phone with the article displayed on it for Lando to grab, but she eyes the device like it’s very presence is toxic. She chuckles, but the sound is high pitched and forced. “Sorry, almost forgot!”

Lando slowly takes his phone from her, his eyes flickering between his friends for a moment.

“No worries, s’fine,” he says carefully, his eyes not leaving her face. “Are you actually okay?” That’s a stupid question, you idiot.

“Me?” she asks, as if caught off guard. “Yeah, yeah! I’m fine,” she answers, waving him off.

Oscars expression is stern, unconvinced - and he doesn’t bother to hide it.

“You seem a little, uh, upset,” he says delicately, his gaze flitting to her shaking hands. He immediately looks away, not wanting to draw any attention to it. He doesn’t want her to feel exposed.

“No it’s-” horrible, she wants to say. Instead, what comes out is, “It’s okay. I’m just trying to figure out what I need to do, that’s all.”

He hesitates, his brows furrowing at her attempts to downplay what’s happening.

“And your first thought is to go work?” he points out, a small hint of accusation in his tone.

It’s like she doesn’t even hear him.

“I’m going to fix this,” she tells him, giving both of them her most convincing smile, even as the corners of her mouth threaten to twitch downward.

Breathe.

And with that, she sees herself out of the room, already planning each action she needs to set into motion. She’s going to fix this.

a/n: thank you for reading this far! feedback means a lot to me. your likes, comments, reblogs, asks - that's the only way i can tell if you like the story so pls pls pls! all the feedback!!!

[ancha-aus]

DoubleNoot AU Drabble - Next Steps

I got time! Time to write my version of what the next part of the DoubleNoot AU timeline is! Noot² for some :D

Last time on DoubleNoot Adventure! Corrupt split and caused the original Nightmare to return in the heat of battle! As a reaction he took his mates and the newly arrived child and took them back to his home and hideout.

@mikimakiboo Made their own version of this meeting but I also wanted to write it myself and how I see it happening :3 Still their drabble is amazing and everyone needs to show it love :D (yes i linked it last time but come on. This drabble is actually the counterpart to it!)

Also fair warning. I am keeping the pregnancy joke alive. I am not letting that go. It is too funny and too fitting for me. So... warning? discussions of mpreg.

No edits or beta we just going :D (warning. It is a long read.)

*----------------------------*

There... There is a tiny skeleton in his arms. A shaking and terrified skeleton. Corrupt glances around and very slowly places the skeleton on the couch. Only to have to dive back closer to catch him from falling over. Corrupt ends up putting Nightmare in the corner of the couch to enable him to lean against two sides.

There... Is a child. In his house.

One he had thought had died. Correction. One Corrupt had thought he had killed.

What... What does he do now?

Corrupt had reacted impulsive. He doesn't actually have a plan. He just knew he had to get himself and his mates away from the Stars, even if he already felt much better.

Okay. He needs to focus.

Corrupt needs to check his mates and make sure they are okay. Needs to make sure the Stars didn't hurt any of them while he crumbled.

Why is it so hard to look away from Nightmare? Corrupt can't look away. He keeps staring at the young skeleton.

He looks scared as he looks around the area. Pushing himself back against the couch as his chest moves quickly wiht his fast breathing. His clothes are absolutely filthy and goop isn't even the thing that makes it most dirty. Not there is still old dust and blood on his clothes which are ripped and also covered in mud.

But the bones? While also covered with dirt there isn't even a scratch on Nightmare. Which surprises Corrupt. Nightmare had his skull smashed in. Had suffered years of abuse of those villagers. Yet here he sits. Whole. Not as much as a bruise on him.

The only thing that seems wrong is that Nightmare seems to have lost control over his body, but he had also been inactive for 500 years so this may more be a matter of him having to relearn how to walk and move..

Okay. Stop. Think. Waht do you know for sure?

Corrupt just... split in two and Nightmare was removed from his being. Aparently he had Nightmare resting in his body since the apple accident. Maybe instead of forming from Nightmare he formed around Nightmare... it would explain why Corrupt never actually saw Nightmare or dust from him. Corrupt had always assumed that Nightmare hadn't dusted because of his treespirit nature.

Now.

Nightmare had been in his body, aparently slowly healing, and is now out of his body. Corrupt frowns. How come that he has Nightmare's memories in that case? Is it because Nightmare was the one to eat the apple? Does that mean that all those things he remembers and remembered feeling was all Nightmare and never his own.

Corrupt takes another depe breath to try and stay focussed. He still glances to make sure Nightmare is still where he left him. He is.

Okay. Corrupt will ahve to think about everything that this means later. Now he has to make sure everyone is okay... also make sure that Nightmare gets clean and situated. It... unnerves him to not have Nightmare with him. Corrupt doesn't knwo a lot but knows his being misses having Nightmare close.

"Euh... Moonlight?"

Corrupt frowns and turns slowly.

Killer looks between Nightmare and Corrupt "You know... I know we aren't always the most... serious bunch... but you could have told us you were pregnant... we could have handled it and could have helped."

It takes amoment before Corrupt sputters and glares at one of his mates "I wasn't pregnant!" He snaps but sees Ngihtmare flinch at the sound. Corrupt mentally decides to not shout anymore.

Killer just raises a brow as he crosses his arms before looking pointly at Nightmare "Really? Because that is a whole ass child-"

Cross shoots him a disapproving look "Don't curse!"

Killer blinks and looks over "The kid is already like... eight?" he tilts his skull at Nightmare.

Nightmare however shrinks in on himself as he tries to disappear into the couch.

Corrupt answers instead "He is ten actually. Just... tiny." he frowns. aparently Nightmare is just short? Corrupt himself is also short and he took some of his appearances over from Nightmare...

Killer frowns "Wait... ten years? How long have we all been together?" He looks very disappointed "We aren't the dads?"

Corrupt sputters again but manages to keep his voice down "I wasn't pregnant."

Horror speaks up as he glances up from his phone "According to the definition of giving birth which is: The emergence of a baby or other young from the body of its mother; the start of life as a physically separate being." Horror waves into the direction of Ngihtmare "Young." and he just looks pointedly at Corrupt.

Corrupt sighs as he rubs his face "I wasn't pregnant. I didn't give birth." he looks at Nightmare and frowns "I didn't even... i thought he was dead..." Nightmare stares back at him but gets a tiny frown on his face. Corrupt isn't sure what is on his face... probably grief. there always is grief when he thought about Nightmare.

Cross joins his side and holds his hand "hey... you could also have told us you miscarriaged... We could have helped..." he smiles.

Corrupt rubs his skull as he shakes his skull "No. I wasn't pregnant... Meet... Nightmare." Ngihtmare flinches at his name and when the others all start staring at him. Shit. Corrupt regrets that...

Dust frowns "I thought you said..."

Corrupt groans as he takes a deep sigh "I know... I know what i said. I thought the same. This is also very much a surprise for me."

"how do you know my name?"

silence and Crorupt looks back at Nightmare. Ngihtmare still looks terrified. He is obviously terrified. but he has a very tiny stubborn glare on his face. One hand has formed a fist and is shaking sligthly. Nightmare keeps staring at Corrupt specifically.

Corrupt blinks and speaks softly "I.... What do you remember?" does he remember everything that Corrupt remembered?

Nightmare frowns as he thinks before looks at Corrupt distrusting "You first. What do you know?"

Killer snorts "suspicious little fellow." he points at Corrupt "That is corrupt. I am Killer." he points everyone out as he names everyone. Corrupt is watching closely and can see more and more panick appear in Ngihtmare's posture as each name is given.

right... Very unfriendly names. Corrupt now regrets not agreeing to taking a friendlier name. He makes the decision as he walks over to Nightmare and takes a seat before him. He makes sure to keep his tentacles low but not to hide them, same for his arms.

Hidden limbs can attack him and hurt him. This way Nightmare can keep and easy eye on everything.

Corrupt speaks softly, making sure to keep his voice soft and quiet just in case "I must admit I am not quite sure myself anymore. I am Corrupt. When you ate the apple of the tree I formed. I always believed that you had died and I formed from that moment with the apple's magic and power... I was unaware you were with me the whole time. How are you feeling? What do you remember?" and he waits. He knows this is a lot of information.

Nightmare frowns as he looks down slightly. Thinking. He looks at his hand and frowns as he touches some of his fingers. Corrupt follows the sight and knows why Nightmare must be confused. The villages had smashed his phalanges with a large bat just days before the apple incident. Those breaks should have been there still.

Nightmare forms a fist again as he holds said hand with his other "I... I think i... remember eating it..." he frowns more before flinching. Corrupt frowns and looks over his shoulder. Right.

He sighs "Loves. please back up a tiny bit." the four had started to gravitate closer but they seem to realise the problem. They give some quiet sorries and back up a bit.

Corrupt looks amused at them before motioning towards the other couches and chairs "Just sit down for a moment." He first needs to get Ngihtmare to relax just a tiny bit. Corrupt doubts he can move alright just yet and Corrupt wants him to be at least a bit calmer before he tries to ask if Nightmare wnats to get clean.

His mates luckily all listen and sit down and get comfortable as they start checking each other. Corrupt smiles, that is good. This way he is at least sure that they are all alright and no one is hurt.

Corrupt turns back to Nightmare who is staring at him. But he looks away as soon as Corrupt looks at him. Corrupt chuckles "It is alright... I can only imagine I must look very strange to you."

Ngihtmare shrugs and mutters "Not... that weird..." he grins a tiny bit as he glances up at him "I am a treespirit..."

Corrupt chcukles and nods "true..."

Nightmare glances to the side and Corrupt realises what Nightmare must be glancing it. Corrupt slowly makes one of his tentacles raise a little and makes it wave.

Nightmare blinks and looks at Corrupt "Are those..."

Corrupt nods "They are... made of negative energy." he brings it closer "We got that in common. Both of us have powers connected to the more negative things to feel." he lets the tendril hover near Nightmare.

Nightmare stares at it before very slowly touching the tendril. As soon as he touches it the negativity and magic in his being reacts. Because the area around the tendril starts to shine and show of cyan coloured swirls.

Nightmare stares and starts to smile "wow... I didn't know my stuff could be pretty..." he touches one of the shown swirls wiht his other hands and the area of effect expands a tiny bit.

Corrupt nods as he mutters "Even if everyone looks down on negativity. It has its good adn beautiful sides. Everything has, including the negative emotions."

Nightmar elooks unconvinced and that doesn't surprise Corrupt. Nightmare is used to being harrassed, bullied, hurt and abused over what he was connected to. His powers and role only every brough him pain.

Maybe Corrupt can at least show him the more beautiful side of their emotional powers. Show it is a part of healing and growth. That it has a connection to justice and protecting others.

Nightmare ends up focussing back on the tentacle in front of him and watching their magic react to one another. Familiar and calm. Both magicks seem to know the other and it helps Ngihtmare feel safe.

Some movement by his side and Ngihtmare watches as Cross is now near him before sitting on the ground with his back against the couch. Ngihtamre shoots him a look for a moment before calming down when the other's attention isn't on him. Nightmare turns back to the tentacle.

Cross looks over nervously before turning to Corrupt "what... what is the plan? are we just... going to..." he shoots Ngihtmare a look "Can we just keep him?"

Nightmare freezes and grabs the tentacle tighter.

Corrupt frowns as he looks at Nightmare. The idea... of leaving him somewhere? No... they can't just leave him somewhere.

Cross rubs his arm as he continues to speak "Like... I am not... sure how good I am at this dad thing?" he cringes "But I can learn! probably." he grins as he looks nervous.

Killer laughs as he lounges on the other couch, obviously watching them "I mean. I think this one is dips for either Horror or Dust. You know. Cyan of Cors and red of either of them makes purple for little nightlight."

Nightmare shoots Killer a glare "I wasn't pregnant."

horror hums and nods "Dust then. I don't have enough magic to get anyone pregnant."

Dust shrugs "Cool. I am upper-dad."

Killer grins "It has been decided!" and he throws his arms out with a laugh.

Corrupt sighs deeply as he looks back at Nightmare however just looks at the other four. Looking a tiny bit more relaxed and with a slightly tilted skull.

Corrupt speaks softly "Are you okay with staying here for a little bit? I swear to you that no one will harm you here, ever." It is why he made this place. it was a place of safety and shelter. For himself and those he holds so dear.

Nightmare looks at him, looks at the others, then looks at where their magicks interact and strengthen each other. Nightmare frowns but nods "Okay..."

Corrupt smiles "Thank you." he looks at his mates "How do you four feel?"

Killer grins "A bit tired but nothing too bad."

Cross nods and sits up straight "We are ready to do whatever!"

Corrupt sees both Horror and Dust give their own okays before nodding "Cross and Killer, can you two go to Littletale and get some supplies? We will need clothes foremost but anything that can fit a ten year old is helpful." furniture will come later once they figure out which room is right for the tiny prince-

Oh... Corrupt is already considering calling him prince compared to his own king title...

Maybe his mates have a point about how this whole situation happened. He does feel very protective over Nightmare... Again things to consider when he has the time.

He focusses on the mission "Dust. If you can go around the castle and secure the place. Make it safer." a glance confirms that Dust shoots their training room a look before nodding. He had figured Dust would understand what he meant without having to point out how many weapons they have, which will just make Ngihtmare nervous.

He looks at Horror "Love?"

Horror grins and nods "I will be in the kitchen. Allergies?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and looks at Nightmare "Not that i can remember... Nightmare? Are there any things you don't like the taste or texture off?"

Nightmare looks confused "texture?"

Corrupt smiles "Well yeah... I know I dislike either quite a few things that feel strange to me to eat. Anything you don't like?"

Nightmare thinks before speaking "I don't like.... mushy stuff? feels weird to chew..."

Corrupt looks at Horror and Horror nods before looking at Nightmare "Anything you like?"

Nightmare blinks and actually focusses on Horror for a moment. His hold on his tentacle tightens but seems to relax when he sees that Horror just waits as he stays in place and doesn't get closer.

Nightmare looks away and shrugs "Don't have stuff that i really like..." he rubs the tentacle. maybe it helps to sooth him?

Horror nods "Fair enough. We will have to get you to taste test a few things to see what you like." and he walks off before he can get a reply.

The others had already quietly left the room which Ngihtmare registers as he looks around soft "They move quiet..."

Corrupt nods "I know. I hardly ever hear them. I notice them by sensing their emotions more than anything."

Nightmare looks up unsure "They... they won't get mad? Others always get mad when i... used that..."

Corrupt smiles and shakes his skull "They won't... Will you let me help you get cleaned up?"

Ngihtmare blinks and looks down only to stare at the mess he is. Clearly not having realised that "Oh... euh..." he looks unsure as he looks hard at Corrupt "You... ARe you the one who spoke to me?"

Corrupt frowns as he tilts his skull "spoke?"

Nightmare nods as he rubs his hand "When... whenever i was sad and scared... I always heard this voice... it was very quiet and begged me to stay near... let them help... Was that you?"

Corrupt frowns as he thinks back. trying to remember the voice that Nightmare speaks off. But he can't remember those moments... What he does remember instead are his dream. showing the other side of the same conversation. Corrupt looks at Nightmare "I must admit I am unsure myself. I do not have memories of my own from before you ate the apple. I do... however... have your memories. For a long time i beleived those to be my own."

Nightmare looks away ashamed and mutters "oh...."

Corrupt shakes his skull "You don't need to be ashamed... you are a child... you shouldn't have had the pressure on you that was placed on you... and those who hurt you... they are the ones who are wrong. You never did anything wrong."

Ngihtmare nods but looks sad "I... I thought you were that voice... you sounded familiar and... I felt like i knew you."

Corrupt frowns and speaks sfotly "There are however dreams i had. Dreams that I wasn't you. But looking on from the outside... unable to assist. But I wanted to help you."

Nightmare thinks it over before looking at Corrupt and nods "okay... I would like being clean..."

Corrupt smiles and carefully picks Nightmare up. Noticing now that any goop touching any bones on Ngihtmare causes the same effect as the touches to the tentacles had caused. He hadn't noticed in his panic before.

Corrupt slowly leaves the living room and goes towards the hall before going up the stairs. As he walks he points at each room and area as he softly explains what is what. Ngihtmare looks around in shock and mutters about it being an actual castle. Corrupt smiles as he feels the excitement slowly start to appear in the younger empath.

They get to Corrupts room and he takes Ngihtmare towards the bathroom. Ngihtmare looks around confused as his hold tightens "what?"

Corrupt speaks softly as he explaisn how the bathroom works before turning on the tab of the bath. Letting Nightmare feel the water before making sure the water is nice and comfortable. He lets Ngihtmare sit by the water and play wiht it as he goes to look through the soaps and brushes. Getting everything needed to help clean up the young skeleton.

It only takes a moment before Corrupt returns to Nightmare's side. Ngihtmare looks nervous at him before looking at the water "will... will the water hurt you?"

corrupt stops and stares at Ngihtmare. He had expected th young skeleton to be worried about being exposed and naked in front of someone he didn't know. instead he is worried about Corrupt.

Corrupt smiles "I will be fine. Water does not bother me." to show he puts his hand in the water and shows how his goop just doesnt'mix with the water, all the rises off him was some old dirt from the battle. Nightmare looks at it curiously and touches it. the goop still lights up when their magic meets.

Ngihtmare frowns "why does it do that?"

Corrupt hums and shrugs "I can only assume it is because our magics have a similar source. it recognises each other as-" family. He manages to stop himself.

Nightmare tilts his skull as he stares at him. a tiny smile appears on his face "I already got a mom though."

Corrupt sighs and looks at the younger monster "please don't start to. I already have four of them doing that joke."

Nightmare chuckles before looking at the water "Bath time?"

Corrupt nods and gently helps Ngihtmare out of his dirty clothes and into the water. Ngihtmare hums happily and relaxes. Corrupt looks him over but doens't see any scars or marks of the past wounds. completely healed.

Corrupt smiles "You really are healed..." It makes it worth it. Makes it worth having to experience the pain of Ngihtmare splitting from his body.

Nightmare looks in awe at his body "You healed me... You kept your promise."

Corrupt frowns as he starts helping the younger monster bath as he still can't quite move right yet "What do you mean?"

Ngihtmare hums as he relaxes into his hold, full trust "The voice... it said that if i just gave in. To accept help. That the pain would stop." he smiles "You stopped the pain."

Corrupt looks at him before smiling "I am happy I was able to help you. I was worried before... That i had hurt you... that eating the apple to make me, destroyed you."

Nightmare keeps looking at him. Some suspicion in his feelings before he relaxes and smiles back. believing him. Why would Nightmare just believe Corrupt on his word-

Oh... of course...

Nightmare and Corrupt are both empaths. They can feel the other and feel that they are both honest. That they don't want to hurt each other.

That is what the trust is build upon. Something that was clear instantly from their first interaction.

After that Corrupt just helps Nightmare get clean as Ngihtmare uses the water to slwoly move his limbs.

Nightmare looks unhappy with the uneasy movement.

Corrupt chcukles "You were asleep for a long time Nightmare. It will take some time before you regain your full movement again."

Nightmare looks at him "Why... why did Drema shoot you?" he looks so confused "Your magic is like mine... why would he attack you?"

Corrupt stops and sighs "Your brother hates me. Because He thought I killed you."

Nightmare frowns as he looks up at him "But... you didn't... it was.. them... the villagers... not you..." he frowns "did you tell Dream that?"

Corrupt sighs "I tried to explain it to him a long time ago... He didn't beleive me."

Nightmare just looks sad as he leans heavily into his hold "He never believed me either."

Corrupt frowns "I am sorry."

Nightmare shrugs as he moves the dirty water around "I am used to it..."

Corrupt rubs his shoulders "People believe what you say here. I promise. They will listen to you."

Nightmare frowns before nodding "okay."

Corrupt nods before smiling "Ready to get dressed?"

Nightmare frowns at the sad pile of clothes "i guess?"

Corrupt shakes his skull and stands up "You are comfortable right? stable? No leanign to the side?"

Ngihtmare looks unsure but nods "I am okay... No one will get in?"

Corrupt nods "no one will bother you." Ngihtmare accepts it and Corrupt quickly goes ot his closet and reaches around. It doesn't take long before finding a soft sweater and some sweats. He returns to the bathroom and helps Ngihtmare dry off before helping him get dressed.

Clean and comfrotable safely in his arms.

Corrupt looks at Nightmare "ready to get some food?"

Nightmare looks at him before nodding "okay."

Corrupt leaves his room and goes towards the kitchen to meet up with one of his mates. Hopefully the others will like and accept Nightmare as easily as Corrupt did.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sand: A Summary

For those who cannot afford to buy Love Sand, or don't know if they feel like reading it. This is a full summary, so of course it's full of spoilers. General trigger warnings for dubious consent, non-consent (one partner drunk), and revoked consent.

Love Sand takes place 7-5 months before the events of Love Sea, long before Mahasamut and Tongrak ever meet. The two do, however, play major roles in Khom and Connor's love story.

Love Sand's official English edition can be purchased through Meb.

If you order through the app, you'll have to buy a set of tokens and purchase it that way, If you order through their website, you can directly buy the number of tokens you need for Love Sand specifically.

Love Sand: A Summary

Before getting into this: Khom has a lot of negative self-image issues revolving around being thought of as a sex worker. I conveyed that as best I could here, but I want to make it clear that there is no shame in sex work, so long as it's something the person wants to do, is protected, and does not feel forced into.

Khom is 19, and just had his heart broken by his first love.

Type grew up with Khom, and Khom saw all the bad that came on the heels of Type being sexually assaulted at the age of 11 by a worker his father had hired. Type was hounded by media seeking to sensationalize an already horrible story, and faced the stares of curious islanders and people asking too many questions about the assault.

Type becomes viciously homophobic after the trauma, buying into every negative stereotype about gay people. Khom, who has always known he's gay and who has had a crush on Type throughout his youth, wants to be a calming presence. He supports Type, is his confidant and friend, and swallows his objections to what Type says.

But Type's hatred just keeps growing and growing, and Khom is finally sick of hearing it. He reveals to Type that he's gay, hoping Type will reconsider his homophobia after learning his best friend, who has always been there for him, is gay.

Instead, Type throws it all in Khom's face. He calls Khom a pervert, a slut, and is disgusted by his association with Khom.

Khom is very similar to Mahasamut in Love Sea, in which he will internalize the opinions of people he cares about. Type's words cut as deeply as a knife, and are the trigger for a lot of the plot of Love Sand.

---

Several days after Type returned to his university in Bangkok, Khom is isolating himself and trying to deal with the pain in his heart. He withdraws from everyone, and sits alone to mourn his lifelong one-sided crush.

Khom isn't good at making friends. He's friendly with some guys on the island, but not in a way where he'd turn to any of them if he's in pain. He's extremely introverted, and deeply isolated.

Mahasamut tracks him down one day at a kind of secluded beach the locals keep to themselves. Mut is an older boy on the island, around 21, and viciously charismatic. His business is word-of-mouth, and there isn't much Mahasamut won't do to make sure he's the first choice of every traveler.

But right now, he's in trouble and needs help. Mahasamut was jumped at a bar by a gang of local boys who tried to fuck with him. Despite it being 6:1, Mahsasamut won the fight, but slipped on a beer bottle afterwards and broke his leg.

Mahasamut has a visitor coming to the island the next day, who booked his services and whose business Mut cannot afford to lose. Even if he's the choice of any traveler who can book him, Mahasamut very much lives hand to mouth. Khom is the only other boy on the island who speaks English as well as Mahasamut, and he needs Khom to pretend to be him and play tour guide for 3 days.

In exchange, Mut will give Khom a cut of what the foreigner is paying.

Khom reluctantly agrees, figuring it will be a distraction from his dark thoughts and pain of falling out with Type.

Khom is instantly and immediately attracted to Connor, but he knows how dangerous that is. Connor has a wild playboy aura, and fierce green eyes that make him darkly seductive. He's also 11 years older than Khom.

With a shock, Khom quickly learns that Connor is completely fluent in Thai, though he pretends not to be around most people. Connor is Canadian, and on the island as part of a vacation tour of dive spots.

And that's all Khom is allowed to know. If he asks any questions about Connor's life, Connor quite obviously changes the subject, making it very clear that Khom is not entitled to any personal information at all. Not even how he knows Thai.

Connor is overtly attracted to Khom, and flirts with him constantly. Khom takes him to local hangouts, where the food is more authentic and people more themselves than around the tourist areas.

Khom gets drunk at one such spot, encouraged by Connor, and loses all sense of where he is. He's hot, so he strips, and attracts the attention of basically the Thai equivalent of siren.

In Khom's mind, the demon is coming to steal his soul, but he is too unsteady to fight it as it pins him down and starts jacking him off.

In reality, Connor has taken Khom back to his hotel room, and when Khom strips his shirt off, Connor pounces. He ignores Khom's protests and forcefully jacks him off.

---

---

The next morning, Khom is embarrassed to know he got drunk and the guest he's supposed to be taking care of had to take care of him. He also vaguely remembers having a strange dream the night before, but it's very much a dream.

Connor keeps taunting and teasing Khom, embarrassing the boy and keeping him on edge. Khom is fighting constantly against his own attraction to Connor. He doesn't want to be the kind of person Type accused him of being.

He isn't a slut, he isn't easy, he isn't perverted. He isn't the kind to have flings with tourists. Khom's had a couple of very short lived relationships in his life, all done under extreme secrecy. No one knows he's gay, not even his family. That's half to protect himself, and half because he didn't want Type to know he was gay, still hoping that Type's prejudice would eventually fade.

Connor wants to go for a dive, so Mahasamut sends Palm with a rented boat. But the boat is WAY too nice, and Khom realizes that Connor must be paying Mahasamut way above his normal rate. Meanwhile, he's giving Khom pennies for filling in.

Khom is supposed to be pretending to be Mahasamut so that Connor doesn't know this isn't the guide he hired. But Khom is so bad at it that he keeps forgetting, and it's obvious to Connor from the start. It is never confirmed nor denied, but Khom suspects Mahasamut somewhat pimped him out to Connor. Choosing Khom as his guide because Khom is physically exactly the kind of person Connor is attracted to.

While diving, Connor pretends to drown so that Khom has to give him air (they were freediving, not diving with tanks). To Connor, it's a cheeky way to get a kiss, hidden underwater where Cockblock Palm can't see them. But Khom is deathly serious about safety, and is absolutely enraged.

After that, Connor sticks to beaches, and apologizes constantly for playing. He also doesn't slow down his pursuit of Khom in the least.

---

---

The next day, Khom takes Connor out again, this time on a motorbike. Connor is very suggestive all day, and keeps Khom anxious and on the edge. Eventually, even though Khom repeatedly asks him to behave, Connor distracts Khom while he's driving and Khom nearly collides with a car. He crashes the bike, and while Connor is fine, Khom's leg is torn up.

Khom has to go to the hospital, and Connor is extremely embarrassed and worried. He takes Khom back to the resort and takes care of him.... but in a very Connor way.

He helps strip Khom, and then sits there in the bathroom with him while Khom takes a bath with maximum embarrassment. He also deliberately leaves the towel away from the tub so that Khom has to ask him for it while Connor stares at him.

Connor then makes Khom lay on the bed and take his medicine, which puts him to sleep. Khom is incredibly upset- he's ruined Connor's last night on the island, and now a guest is losing out on enjoying the area because he has to take care of his guide.

The next morning, Khom wakes in intense pain from the leg. Connor again gives him medicine, and tells him to go back to sleep. Khom doesn't want to lose the time with Connor, but Connor won't hear it.

When Khom next wakes, it's late in the afternoon. Connor has not only missed his checkout time, but he's also missed the last boat off the island for the day. Khom is again embarrassed and upset, but Connor doesn't care.

Connor then reveals that he actually extended his vacation the night before, and did it specifically because he's interested in the island, but also in Khom. Mahasamut has also given Khom as his guaranteed tour guide for his extended stay. This kind of reminds Khom that he's acting like a prostitute, wanting to sleep with the man who he's been hired to guide.

The next morning, on one public beach, while Connor is swimming, Khom is approached by a group of guys (Khom can't get in the water with his injury). One of them is Jun, a local who was once a classmate of Khom's. Jun's family had the money to send him to school on the mainland, and he's returned with his rich friends, making fun of how shabby the island is.

Khom loves the island as fiercely as Mahasamut does, and Jun pisses him off. Jun belittles Khom, and right then Connor reappears and steps in. He puts Jun in his place, taunting him and destroying him and his dignity in front of his rich little friends, until they laugh at Jun and leave him.

Jun is pissed, but Connor is massive, and so he is forced to back down.

Connor then takes Khom back to Mahasamut's truck (that Khom had for the day) and helps him finally vent some emotion. Khom is mad at Jun but swallowing it, and Connor encourages him until Khom finally yells in the car. As a reward, Connor gives Khom a kiss.

Khom wants to be bold a little longer, and so he asks Connor if he can request a bigger award. Connor has been pursuing him all day, and making it clear how badly he wants Khom. The kiss also makes Khom realize that he wasn't dreaming the other night, Connor definitely took advantage of him when he was drunk.

But Khom is so thirsty that he doesn't care right now.

Connor lays Khom's seat down in the truck and gives Khom the best blowjob of his life, but won't let Khom touch him in response. He swallows most of the cum and feeds Khom a little, visibly becoming feral watching Khom shyly lick it off his fingers.

But when Khom wants to return the favor, Connor just straightens up as if nothing happened and drives Khom back home. Khom feels embarrassed and humiliated. Connor is visibly hard in his pants, but clearly he's decided Khom is incapable of taking care of him. As the night goes on, Khom sinks deeper and deeper into just feeling like some slut.

Khom takes Connor to some dive spots over the next day, but Khom has to stay on the boat while Palm dives with Connor, much to Connor's chagrin. Palm clearly knows Connor and Khom are interested in each other, but Khom's leg cannot get wet.

The next day, Khom takes Connor to a secret beach, one of several the locals kind of keep to themselves. It's isolated, pristine, and quiet. Connor wants to have a picnic, but this beach doesn't have a dock, a detail Khom forgot about. To protect Khom's leg, Connor jumps into the water and carries Khom to shore.

Connor and Khom start making out, and a storm hits. They move beneath an overhang and decide to wait out the storm. It is then that Connor asks Khom how old he is.

All this time, Connor has thought Khom was 16-17. Somehow in Connor's mind that translated to jacking off a drunk and protesting Khom was acceptable, as was giving him a blowjob and making endless sexual overtures to him, but letting Khom touch him sexually was not.

When Connor finds out Khom is 19, all bets are off. Connor and Khom pounce on each other, and have sex on the beach for several hours. Khom is shy and easily embarrassed, which turns Connor on. Connor is into sexual sadism, and Khom finds himself overwhelmingly turned on by the hard and rough sex Connor offers.

But after the sex is over, Khom is again embarrassed. Partly for breaking his own rules and sleeping with a client, but also how shamelessly he begged for Connor to be harder and rougher.

Connor calls Khom "honey", but is clear that that nickname is not the term of endearment, but a reference to his honey-colored skin. He'll also call him "baby", and during sex "slut". Khom, hiding his own self-loathing and shame for having sex without any kind of relationship, calls Connor "pervert" constantly.

Connor and Khom are insatiable after their sex on the beach. Khom accepts that he's just a slut, that none of this means anything to Connor, but it feels good. They burn through condoms hard and fast, and Connor shows his truest colors in repeatedly forcing orgasms out of Khom, long after Khom as begged for mercy.

But that's part of what he and Khom both enjoy. Because Khom very much does enjoy it.

Connor also comes to Khom's house to have real, authentic local food made by Khom's mother. He's polite and charming, and interested in learning about Khom. Connor finds out Khom is in college, studying on the mainland to a degree (he's in a small local school in the city where the ferry to the island picks up tourists), and that is as far as Khom has ever been.

Khom expresses some jealousy of friends of his who have been to Bangkok, and how it's a dream of his to go there someday. It's a bit subtle, but he expresses a desire to go further, and some disappointment that he won't.

That night, Connor calls his best friend Tongrak, and makes a few demands.

---

---

The next evening, as Khom is walking with Connor along a beach, Connor tells Khom that he will be leaving the next day. His vacation time is used up.

Khom is devastated, but tries not to show it. He's fallen in love with Connor over the last week and a half, thoroughly and truly, and while he always knew this day was coming, he is heartbroken. Khom knows he has no right to ask Connor to stay, he's just some islander who spread his legs for the man.

Connor then tells Khom that he'd like it if Khom left with him. He tells Khom he arranged a spot for him at a university, a private dorm, and will give Khom a large living allowance in exchange for Khom sleeping with Connor whenever he asks. Khom won't live with Connor, and Connor will mostly leave him alone, but they'll have sex at least once a week.

Khom is shattered.

He already thought of himself as a slut for throwing himself at a tourist, but Connor's words are shredding what dignity he thought he had in believing their attraction was mutual. Connor knows Khom's family isn't wealthy, and he knows Khom helps his father with work as much as possible, so Connor helpfully mentions Khom can send the money back to his parents to make things easier for them.

But Connor, growing up in privelige, doesn't understand how that sounds. Like he's looking down on Khom's family and what they have. Like he's saying they're so poor that they have to sell their son into sexual slavery just to make ends meet. Khom's family isn't wealthy, but they have as much as they need, and they're happy.

Khom punches Connor and runs away, hiding on a remote beach as he sobs. Everything he thought he had with Connor was a lie. Connor only saw him as some poor island boy who he could make his personal hooker.

Every nasty thing Type said to him is at the foreground of his mind as he processes his and Connor's relationship through an increasingly negative lense.

---

---

Khom stays out all night, hiding from the world. He doesn't leave the beach until Mahasamut comes to find him there, letting him know that Mut personally saw Connor off onto the boat. He's gone for good.

And he knows what went down. Mut tries to console Khom by saying he should have agreed to it, then made Connor pay not with his money, but with his heart. That's what Mahasamut would do if he was in Khom's shoes.

Khom brushes Mahasamut off, and tries to go back to his life.

But Connor had pissed off Jun a week ago, humiliating him in front of his rich friends and making them dump him in disgrace.

Jun asked around locals who worked at the resort, and found out that Khom was in Connor's room most nights. He also found out the trash of that room was filled with used condoms every day.

Jun jumps Khom outside of a local shop one evening. He picks a fight with Khom, who initially tries to put up a fight in return. Jun outs Khom as gay to the whole island, which takes a lot of the fight out of Khom as Jun loudly yells about all the used condoms in Connor's room and how Khom is some hooker who spread it for money because his family is poor.

And then Jun really brutlly starts wailing on Khom, and Khom's only awareness through the pain is that everyone is just watching. No one is helping him. They look vaguely disgusted (likely at the overall spectacle, but he reads it as them being disgusted with him).

---

---

Khom loses consciousness, and Jun finally stops. A friend of Mahasamut's in the crowd calls the man, and while Mahasamut rushes to the area, the friend takes Khom to the hospital (you don't get the friend's name, but it's not Palm).

Khom regains consciousness enough to refuse to stay at the hospital, so Mahasamut comes and picks him up. The next time Khom wakes up, he's in Mut's shack, in his bed, with the older guy watching over him.

Mahasamut tells Khom that he bent arms and convinced as many people as he could to keep what Jun said quiet- about him sleeping with Connor and about him being gay. But Khom knows it's impossible for Mahasamut to silence enough people. Word has probably already gotten back to his parents.

Khom is terrified, positive his parents will throw him out for being gay, and feeling like garbage for ever sleeping with Connor. Mahasamut recommends he leave the island and go back to his dorm on the mainland, to give himself some time away for things to quiet down. Khom was already thinking along the same lines.

Mahasamut delivers Khom to the pier looking absolutely horrific, and Khom leaves without ever speaking to his family.

Over the next two weeks, Khom lives in absolute terror. He won't leave his room, barely eats, and can't sleep. Every footstep in the hallway he's scared it's someone coming to attack him for being gay. He won't answer any messages from anyone, and every ring of his phone makes him physically ill.

He also sinks deeper and deeper into every negative thought Connor's offer put into his mind. That he's only a slut, inhuman, delusional for ever thinking anyone could be attracted to him.

---

---

Connor, meanwhile, hasn't stopped thinking about the fight with Khom. It's eating him alive, and he's become short tempered and angry.

He knows he fucked up, that rage is directed inward. He arranged the university for Khom because he could see Khom's desire to study and grow beyond the confines of the island to learn and see the world.

He arranged the dorm to give Khom a chance to build his own life, because things could end with Connor at any time. That's how dating works. He wanted Khom stable. He mentioned sending money home because he misread Khom's devastation at his offer as Khom worrying about not being able to help his father with work.

And he mentioned sex in exchange because he's always teasing Khom with sex. But he fully understands how Khom could have taken it so wrongly, and is pissed at himself for not chasing after Khom and explaining it all clearly. But Khom blocked his number, and he has no way of reaching him.

Eventually, Connor has pissed Tongrak off enough that his friend tells him to just go talk to Khom. He has no vacation time left, so he flies down to the south on the weekend. He gets ahold of Mahasamut, who only tells him Khom is no longer on the island.

Connor remembers that Khom attended university, and so he gets a hotel on the mainland and intends to search the campus for any sign of him.

---

---

Desperate to at least forget about Connor, Khom installs a hookup app on his phone. He has thoroughly crashed, and since he's only worthy of being a slut, he will be one. He finds a guy who is a bit old, a bit dumpy, but it's a foreigner who has green eyes.

But when Khom goes to meet the guy, forcing himself to step outside, the man is vastly different from his picture. Khom becomes more and more uncomfortable as the man leads him up to his hotel room, and tries to back out entirely. The man refuses to take no for an answer and drags Khom through the hallway.

Just before the man can throw Khom into his room, Khom is saved by a furious Connor. Connor happened to see Khom in the lobby- this is Connor's hotel- and after weeks feeling guilty for what he did to Khom, he's pissed as all hell to see Khom following some random man up to his room.

Connor drags Khom to his own room and throws him inside, ready to fight. He calls Khom a slut, but Khom becomes immediately defiant. Khom doesn't see himself as having anything left, he's utterly drowning and doesn't know if he can survive, so he cuts off Connor and tells him he accepts the deal. He'll be Connor's personal whore.

Connor is angry, and Khom is determined. He throws Khom on the bed and is extremely rough with him. By the end he's more gentle, forcing Khom to cum until he's numb, and it's time to go to the dorm so Khom can grab a backpack of personal items to leave with Connor.

But Connor was rougher than he'd ever been, and Khom is covered in bruises.

After that, Khom retreats into himself. He barely speaks, and even then only when Connor pushes. The only thing he says of his own volition is begging Connor to not make him get on an airplane (Khom is terrified of flying).

He doesn't know where Connor is taking him. Literally all he knows about Connor is his age, that he's Canadian, and that he speaks Thai. Not how he learned it, not where he lives, not what he does.

Connor relents, and they board a 16 hour bus ride to Bangkok. Khom is extremely uncomfortable. Connor was well beyond his tolerance the previous night, and it physically hurts to even sit on the bus seat. Khom pretends to sleep the whole ride to Bangkok, but he's too sick to his stomach at what he's doing. That he's sold himself.

He let Connor go beyond his tolerance because he believes that as a sex slave, he has no right to say no to Connor. Even if he protests in bed, they are insincere and part of his and Connor's CNC kink they developed on the island. He never fights it, never limits it. Even though it hurt.

Connor watches Khom the whole ride. He feels guilty for the bruises on Khom's sides, and knows he has to be in pain. But Connor can't figure out why the boy let him go that far. He was trying to get Khom to stop him. Pushing the limits so Khom would push back.

He doesn't know what happened the past two weeks, but looking at Khom and really studying him, he can see the boy is way too thin, and there are dark, deep bags under his eyes. He is pale and utterly terrified of something.

The bus hits traffic and they get to Bangkok later than anticipated. Connor can't miss work, if he knew he might have been able to take a personal day, but everything happened too fast, and he has meetings lined up until late at night.

Connor rushes Khom back to his apartment, and it's then that Khom very pitifully asks if Connor lives in Bangkok, then quickly apologizes for asking him anything personal. He also only calls Connor "sir".

Connor realizes that Khom internalized what he'd done on the island- keeping personal information private to the point where Khom thought he had no right to know absolutely anything.

There isn't time to explain, so Connor just tells Khom he can put his things on the sofa, and Connor will be back late that night. Khom pokes around the room a little after Connor leaves, but doesn't touch anything. He was told he could sit on the sofa, so that must be the only spot Connor would let a whore dirty in his home.

He looks out at the city, so overwhelmingly different from home, and spends the day balled up on the sofa crying.

---

---

That night, Connor comes home to a pitch black apartment. He realized with Khom's question about his personal life what Khom must be thinking, and starts to put the pieces together that Khom genuinely believes he has no rights.

Connor feels crushingly guilty. Khom is a naiive boy, and he's always known this. He wasn't careful enough in how he handled Khom, and knows now Khom must have been in agony their night together before coming to Bangkok.

When Connor sees the dark and empty apartment, his heart breaks. He thinks Khom must have left, fleeing him and his abuse. But then he turns on the light and finds Khom stirring on the sofa.

While Connor is relieved initially, he sees the black bags under Khom's eyes are only worse, and what's more, Khom is still in the same clothes. When he asks Khom, gently, why Khom didn't shower, Khom says Connor didn't give him permission.

Connor's heart breaks, and just when he thinks he can't feel any more guilt for how he's spoken to and treated Khom, he dares to ask if Khom has eaten anything. Khom hasn't, because Connor didn't give him permission to use the refrigerator. Khom references Connor's initial offer, how Khom isn't supposed to be in Connor's personal home, he'll have a spot of his own where he's kept until Connor wants to use him.

Connor tells Khom to forget everything he said on the island. The home is as much Khom's as it is Connor's, and he has complete reign over it. He can sleep in any bed he wants, use the television, use everything he wants right down to Connor's toothbrush if he needs it, and empty the fridge as much as he wants.

Khom showers and Connor tries to coax some emotion out of him by asking Khom what he wants to eat. But every food Khom has heard of in Bangkok (from Type) are pastries, and Connor feels worse and worse seeing the flicker of hope leave Khom's eyes each time he tells Khom he can't have it (the shops are closed, and Khom will probably make himself sick eating sweets after not eating for days).

Khom shuts down again, and tells Connor he will eat whatever Connor wants him to. Connor takes him out and orders too much food, feeling worse and worse as he watches Khom devour it. Khom doesn't eat a lot usually, and how quickly he shovels the food down tells Connor how much he's starved himself.

Before going home, Connor takes him to a grocery store. Khom won't ask for or buy anything, he's acting odd again and has retreated. So Connor leaves him by the entrance to sit while Connor buys more food to fill the fridge up with, plus any prepackaged pastries still left.

Back at the apartment, he puts all the food on a shelf in the fridge and reminds Khom that the whole fridge is his to use as he wants, but also emphasizes that the foods he put there today, Khom should think of as his and his alone. It's Connor's way to try and cover himself- if Khom doens't believe he can use anything in the kitchen, he at least has to believe that there is food that is HIS and he can eat at will.

Connor then gives Khom a cardkey to access the apartment, so Khom can wander freely. There are only two in existence, his and Connor's. Khom finally starts to believe that Connor is sincere, that maybe things will be alright.

And then Connor hands Khom a wad of cash.

From Connor's standpoint: Bangkok is more expensive than the island by a mile. He doesn't want Khom to have to sit around all week until the weekend when Connor can take him places. Doesn't want him dwelling on things in the apartment alone, and wants him to have the freedom to go to pastry shops and see museums, all the things Khom mentioned wanting to do back on the island.

But what Khom sees is Connor giving him his first payment. Reminding him, lest Khom get too happy, that he's nothing more than a prostitute that Connor has bought.

Connor can't figure out why Khom's face goes completely blank. He doesn't even hear Connor anymore, just puts the money at the bottom of his backpack and pulls Connor to the bedroom.

While Connor tries to get Khom to speak to him, Khom strips and lays on the bed, forcing his legs apart and telling Connor to go ahead.

All of Connor's self-loathing and guilt come roaring to the surface. He repeatedly tries to explain to Khom that the money wasn't in exchange for sex, but Khom has completely broken, even further than he knew he could break. He won't listen to the explanations or excuses, he won't hear any of it. He begs Connor to just use him, saying he needs Connor to do it, because he can't take feeling any worse than he already does. He feels worthless and like garbage, and if Connor won't let him do the one thing he thinks he's worth, he won't be able to take it anymore.

Connor snaps. He tells Khom he has no interest in having sex with him, and tells Khom to instead touch himself while Connor watches. He reminds Khom that Khom can't get hard without some pain, and forces Khom to finger himself, even though he's still swollen and bruised from the rough sex 2 nights before.

But Khom is too tired, too heartbroken, and too overwhelmed. Connor unceremoneously extends a leg and shoves his big toe into Khom's ass, and between the pain and Connor's command- which Khom's body has always obeyed above Khom's own will- he's able to get hard.

Eventually, Connor withdraws and Khom's fingers take their place, but he still can't get off. It's exhaustion, the bad kind of pain, and on top of all of that, Connor is glaring at Khom with only cold disgust on his face.

And Khom doesn't know that disgust is turned inward. He thinks Connor is disgusted with him.

Khom's already fragile mind breaks and he starts to openly sob, and tries to get away. Connor climbs onto the bed and starts roughly fingering Khom while making Khom continue stroking himself. He ignores all of Khom's sobbing and pleas for Connor to stop.

In a way, this is what Connor has wanted though- Khom holds everything inside, he keeps everything to himself and doesn't express himself, and that's always been the problem. On the island in the happier times- he never knew how much Khom was internalizing the dirty talk and all of that. How ashamed Khom was of himself every time they had sex.

So Connor takes on a gentler tone and tells Khom to keep crying. Eventually, he manages to make Khom cum, and Khom begs forgiveness for getting off first, and tries to pull at Connor's pants, even though he's still shaking and crying.

Connor punches the bed and storms out of the room, leaving Khom alone in his own cum, still crying.

Connor is utterly disgusted with himself, more than ever before. He likes when he makes Khom cry in bed, but a desperate, horny kind of crying. Not that soul-crushing sadness.

Connor doesn't sleep all night, and neither does Khom. Connor is horrified by his own actions, and vows not to touch Khom sexually again. He also decides to hold off explaining everything. He needs to build Khom back up mentally, to heal his psyche first and foremost.

He intends to build Khom's faith in him through actions, and when Khom is strong enough and has had some good days and full nights of sleep, then explain it all.

The next day, Khom pretends to be asleep when Connor tries to check on him, and Connor leaves to go to work. He leaves work early and raids every pastry store he can find, buying everything Khom mentioned the night before and then anything that Connor thought had sufficient sugar content.

When he gets home, Khom is again gone. But he walks in a few minutes later- he'd gone to the grocery store. Khom won't look at him and is visibly weak. When Connor says he thought Khom might have left him, Khom just says he doesn't have anywhere to go, but will leave if Connor makes him.

Khom thinks Connor is mad about last night, about Khom not being able to satisfy him after Connor paid good money for it. And now he thinks Connor is going to throw him out on the street.

Connor reassures Khom that will never happen. He shows Khom all of the foods and treats he brought, trying to bring any warmth to Khom's face.

A cream puff does the trick. It brings back a little bit of light, and Connor basks in that. When it comes time to go to bed, Khom again thinks he's expected to have sex with Connor, but Connor only holds him, saying he misses his warmth from their nights on the island sharing a bed.

For the first time in weeks, Khom sleeps deeply.

---

---

Connor takes Khom on a date, bringing him on the metro to the mall he bought all of Khom's treats from, and buying even more, anything Khom's eyes linger on. He also takes Khom to a sit-down restaurant that has southern food, something Khom is more familiar with.

When two girls flirt with Connor, he makes sure they know he belongs to KHOM. Khom is already overwhelmed by how overt a gay couple can be in the city compared to the environment he grew up on, and is both touched and put on edge by how overt Connor is.

That night, Connor realizes with a start that he's acting as mooney with Khom as his father acted when he fell in love with his stepmother, and realizes he's now sincerely fallen in love with Khom.

Things get significally better for Khom from there.

Connor is always gentle with him, asks permission to even touch Khom, and refuses to touch him sexually in any way. The most he allows himself is a peck on the cheek when he comes home from work.

He is also very aware that Khom won't ask him personal questions because of his previous deflection, so Connor makes a point of bringing things up. When his mother calls and Khom's eyes are wide at Connor speaking to her in Thai, Connor goes out of his way to explain that his step-mother is Thai.

Connor tells Khom about his family- his father, his beloved step-mother, and his half-brother. He promises he'll introduce Khom to them when they next come back to Thailand (a yearly trip).

This does help pierce through some of Khom's still present thoughts about being a prostitute. If Connor thought of him as only a sex object, then he wouldn't introduce Khom to his family. That's something you do for a person you like, right?

Khom shyly asks for permission to get a job helping at the kitchen of a small local restaurant. He reassures Connor it won't interfere with his "duties" with Connor, and won't tire him out. Connor is worried about Khom feeling overwhelmed, he's still very much recovering from a massive breakdown, but he won't restrict Khom in any way.

Besides, the work gives Khom money of his own, and Connor is afraid of giving Khom money again, afraid of Khom misunderstanding and going back to his dead-eyed state.

Connor also, after a month, has sex with Khom again. But only because Khom would really like it, and he refuses to do anything rough (even though, again, Khom really likes rough).

This time, to make up for all of the bad in the past, he is as gentle and soft as possible. His goal is to make Khom completely melt with happiness. Eventually they can get back to their wilder sexcapades, but Connor won't risk Khom, not while he's still picking himself back up.

---

---

More time passes, weeks, and Khom has saved up his money. He feels more secure with Connor now, and is starting to accept that Connor doesn't see him as a prostitute, and probably never has.

Khom has been gone for a long time now, and he gets a message from his old college that he's now missed too many classes and won't be given credit for the year. Khom decides to go and formally withdraw, and go to finally face his parents back on the island.

Connor desperately wants to go with him, but Khom wants a chance to handle things himself. He feels guilty for hiding. He spends his paycheck on gifts for his parents, and a nice handbag for his mother. Khom will go ahead, and in a few days Connor will fly down to join him.

Either to meet Khom's parents as Connor's boyfriend, or to console Khom if they throw him out.

---

---

Khom leaves for the bus terminal (man will NOT fly). Not long after he leaves, Connor's best friend Tongrak shows up.

Connor wasn't lying to Khom about there only being two keys to the apartment, it's just that the apartment is owned by Tongrak, who has the master key. He cuts the rent for Connor and their actress friend Vivie in exchange for being able to wander in and out of their places whenever he's feeling lonely.

Tongrak is a writer, but is bitterly lonely. He has major aversions to romantic relationships because of family trauma, and relies on his friends when it all becomes too much. Tongrak wanted to meet Khom, he's insanely curious, but he is too late.

Something Tongrak does with Connor when things become too hard is to just sleep with Connor hugging him. To feel physical contact. They've done this since their college days, even though neither has any sexual interest in the other whatsoever, and to be clear this is not a sexual act.

Tongrak flings himself on the bed, ignoring Connor's grumbling that he's laying on Khom's pillow and his perfume is covering Khom's scent. He only means to lay down for a little, but falls asleep.

---

---

Khom gets to the bus terminal and realizes he mixed up one of Connor's bags for the one his mother's gift is in. He was getting the last bus of the night, but he decides to surprise Connor by going home and leaving in the morning instead.

When Khom gets back to the apartment, he finds it dark, and follows a trail of Tongrak's discarded clothes (man isn't sleeping naked, just to be clear, he just likes wearing layers) to the bedroom he and Connor share.

And finds Connor sleeping curled around a painfully beautiful man Khom has never seen before.

Khom drops the bag he's holding and Connor sleepily calls out "Love?" (in Thai), pulling the man tighter.

Tongrak's name means "Must Love", the "Rak" part, his nickname, meaning "Love". It sounds like a pet name- and what's worse, one Connor never used with Khom.

To Khom, it looks like Connor couldn't wait to replace him with another, more beautiful man the moment he was gone. That Connor must have been just playing house all this time, while keeping his usual men off to the side.

---

Tongrak is woken in the morning by Connor viciously cursing. He woke up to find a note saying only "Goodbye", sitting on top of the original wad of cash he gave Khom on his first night in Bangkok.

Tongrak feels horrific. They figure out Khom must have missed his bus and come home, finding them napping together. Connor has told Khom about his family, but Tongrak never came up. He doesn't know, and it must have looked horrific.

Tongrak is the level head in the moment. While Connor is going insane, Tongrak reminds him that Khom will take the bus, which is a 16 hour ride. The flight, meanwhile, is only a couple hours long and can get him south infinitely faster, and with time to spare.

Connor feels horrible, imagining how much pain Khom must be in. He grabs his things to rush south, pausing only to make one fast stop on his way to the airport.

---

---

Khom arrives on the island feeling worse than he ever has. He cried the entire bus ride down, and feels more self loathing and disgust than he's ever felt.

But when he gets off the boat, Connor is already there.

In front of absolutely everyone, and at full volume, Connor yells that he loves Khom, and belongs only to Khom. He shows Khom that he's added Khom's name to a tattoo on his back of a tiger- a tattoo Khom always liked to stroke when they had sex.

Khom yells about catching Connor in bed with another man, and begs Connor to just leave him alone. He says that if he's with Connor, he won't be able to stand the pain any more, and is scared that one day he'll end up killing himself.

Connor immediately reassures Khom that Tongrak isn't a lover, but a friend. Tongrak himself is waiting with his phone close by to explain everything the moment Connor calls- though they don't do that until later on.

Khom is in so much pain, but Connor is giving him a lifeline in trying to explain. At least for the moment, to stop the pain for a moment, Khom says he'll believe him, and lets Connor kiss him.

Mahasamut, the shithead who is all about the drama, starts the clapping.

Khom and Connor move to a private area, where Khom listens patiently as Connor explains absolutely everything. Every misunderstanding, his intentions, the meanings behind every action and look, apologizing and begging forgiveness the whole time.

He also calls Tongrak, and Khom speaks to him. Tongrak feels absolutely wretched for causing the misunderstanding, and swears he will also apologize in person.

With everything out in the open, Khom feels better than he has in months. Things are still raw, but he feels safer with Connor, and understands Connor's intentions more.

It isn't total forgiveness- it's mentioned in Love Sea, taking place 5 months later, that Connor is still extremely sensitive to mentions of what happened in Love Sand and Khom still gets angry about it, but they're happy, together, and Khom feels secure enough to bicker and fight with Connor (who always lets Khom win).

Khom goes home with Connor, and while Khom's parents have some questions, they accept his sexuality. They found out about what happened to Khom when Mahasamut appeared at their house the day after Khom fled the island, dragging a bloody Jun with him to crawl on the ground and beg their forgiveness for hurting Khom.

Mahasamut has also spent the months Khom has been away making sure everyone on the island knows the same pain will be brought down on anyone who fucks with someone for being LGBT.

Khom will live with Connor in Bangkok, but for the next several months, he'll return to the island once a month for at least a weekend- possibly up to a week- to be with his parents. Connor agrees, even if it makes him sad that Khom will be gone.

Also, in acknowledgement that it's kind of stupid that Connor had time to get a tattoo and STILL got to the island several hours before Khom, Khom agrees to try flying instead of the day-long bus ride.

When the next school year starts up, Khom will go to the university in Bangkok that Connor and Tongrak had arranged before Connor proposed his disaster of a deal back when they first met. Connor will support him through his studies, and promises to never limit Khom in any way.

Khom also receives a long text from Type. Over the months since he last saw Khom, Type has fallen in love with his roommate Tharn, and the two are now a couple. He begs Khom's forgiveness for everything cruel he said- both on the beach to Khom's face, and over the years that Khom has been by his side as a friend.

Khom forgives Type, and the two maintain a social media friendship, not meeting up in Bangkok, but staying in contact via SMS. Having Type back in his life as a friend helps soothe a lot of the remaining pain, and Khom feels more stable and secure than ever... Even though Connor feels a bit insecure that Khom is texting with his first love again...

By the timeline of Love Sea, Connor and Khom are mostly past their issues from Love Sand, and Connor has brought Khom to Canada to give him his first taste of international travel and show him the world. Khom has also been accepted by Connor's family, quickly becoming a welcome addition and favorite.

Meanwhile, Connor and Khom start to turn their attention on Tongrak, and think it might be a fun kind of chaos to send Connor's favorite annoyance (Tongrak) to meet Khom's favorite annoyance (Mahasamut).

Though neither can seem to decide if they'll hit it off, or if Mahasamut will annoy Tongrak to death...

[lizajane2]

I was scrolling through TikTok and watched a short edit of a fictional couple saying goodbye. He's begging her to stay—let me repeat that— HE'S the one begging her to stay!

Which led me to watching the first season of Midnight at the Pera Palace. Why had I never heard of it before? I adore that it's set during the 20s; I've always loved that era. But anyway, I've got to vent about the main couple, so this is gonna contain spoilers for those who haven't watched it.

The way Halit looked at Esra from across the room in the first episode, I was gone. I was a complete goner. That look was perfection. It wasn't just awe, it was "I know you. I've known you forever, and I want you, only you." SOMEONE LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!

He is madly, passionately, and obsessively in love with her. And it drives me nuts. These two have altered my brain chemistry.

And I know he just killed another man, but the way Halit is holding her, his grip on her hand is even tight like he's desperate to keep her there.

The absolute yearning that is coming from him is so gut-wrenching in the best way possible.

And he said this, when he first met Esra in 1917:

Halit had me kicking my feet, giggling, and squealing like a little girl. Had me falling in love, too, damn. "You were made for me, weren't you?" WHAT?! That is insane behavior, good sir, and yet I melted like butter. And excuse me, but you don't need to look at her like that.

Prime example number 2:

They look at each other like they've been in love for years. And he doesn't even know her name! She never even told him. THEY MAKE ME SICK!!

But this, THIS RIGHT HERE:

For fuck's sake, kill me now!! How he grabs Esra to pull her close, leaving no space between them, is absolutely divine!! And then it gets so much better with his speech:

"I've been waiting for so long to see you again. I can't wait any more. Whoever you are, I don't care. Because the thing is we... we are meant to be with each other. You know it, too. I can see it in your eyes. I need you. And I'll do whatever I can to have you. And I can see that you need me, too. Destiny has brought us together."

I NEED THAT INJECTED INTO MY VEINS, TATTOOED ON MY SKIN!!

The soft caress of her cheek, how he tilts her chin up when he says "I need you. And I'll do whatever I can to have you." See, no, that's not... he's driving me absolutely wild!!

Halit: "But I'm in love with you."

Esra: "But I'm not in love with you."

She's stronger than me, cause girl why the fuck are you lying?!

And it's also insane behavior that Halit followed Esra through time when all he had to hang on to were fleeting moments. He even had a child on the way, but that didn't stop him. Nothing felt right without her. LUCKY FUCKING HER!!

His hand placement here:

IT MAKES ME WEAK IN THE FUCKING KNEES!!

"Don't leave me, then." "No. No. If you leave, my life will not be worth living, my love."

Who chooses to go back to their own time over him?!

Me:

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 3 - Random Screenshot Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[haaam-guuuurl]

It occurred to me that this season's been a little different than the first years (especially Sophomore Year) because it seems like the Bad Kids aren't forming as many relationships to NPCs - not bringing them along on adventures or talking that much outside of getting information (at least not friendly NPCs, they're interacting with the Rat Grinders plenty) and then I noticed that in downtime, they've basically been ignoring rolling for the Relationships track. It's almost like being in a constantly stressful and results-focused environment really destroys your interpersonal relationships

[iangallagherisadeadman]

this velvet glove by red hot chili peppers (californication, 1999)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ thank you @fionnagallagher and @shamelesscreencaps for the screencaps ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[tokruta]

I can’t explain why, but this is my favorite hilson edit ever and I can/will watch it on loop for an uncountable amount of times

[angrybatart]

I've never watched Venom, but...

VENOM HORSE VENOM HORSE VENOM HORSE VENOM HORSE VENOM HORSE VENOM HORSE VENOM HORSE VENOM

[arsenicflame]

ANGELA/SERA FROM THE MARVEL SNAP HERO ANIMATIC

[soultek]

In Another Life - Bogard x Female!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

A/N: This actually started as much more based on the lyrics of this song than it ended up - I guess this wasn't exactly my intent! It was initially meant to be so much more angsty. But that's how you roll when you just let the characters point you in a direction when you're writing. Every point on my plan got covered - that's all that matters! 😁✌

ALSO this is the first work I've EVER had properly edited for me, so, thank you very much Josh! I appreciate you taking the time to read this! [You don't know what you've got yourself in for agreeing to do more... haha! 😈]

The format editing on Tumblr broke me. So you get what you get below and I'm very sorry but I just could NOT anymore... You'll see it because it is very SPECIFICALLY one sentence that Tumblr seems to find issue with - so now that's just a random paragraph by itself in the middle of a conversation.

Disclaimer: Only the reader character is mine. He's kinda pieced together using elements of his anime counterpart because hell yeah I went back and watched those episodes for further characterisation. Nothing I've used is spoilers. The origami thing is original - but that's only because I've seen a ton of [fan] art of him with birds and I was like "Is this a thing? I need to include it somehow!" Turns out the birds are just a Marine HQ thing - but I liked the idea so I've kept it!

The 'backstory' is also originally because we don't know a whole lot about him yet in either media... sooooo...

Warnings: innuendo, sexual connotations, mention of injury, smoking, mild swearing, mild plot-relevant OOC.

Premise: HQ 3 is back in town. And for you, that ship brings a lot more with it than just injured marines. You're prepared for the usual push and pull this 'situationship' brings. You might not be so prepared for the other news he has for you...

Word Count: 7906

Song Inspo: Another Life - Tenille Arts

Full Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/29SKzlmL31pHFk54BwnO7k

--- Cause I don't wanna kiss anybody else's lips I don't wanna feel anybody else's touch I just wanna be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time In another life

In another life I would get to kiss you goodnight Hold your hand, play with your hair, feel your arms around me Giving me the best hug Yeah, we'd be so in love

In another life

I wouldn't have to kiss anybody else's lips I wouldn't have to feel anybody else's touch We could just be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time And you'd be here tonight In another life

---

Nothing new. That was how you would describe the day. Sitting in your office working through the papers of every Marine coming in and out of your ward; you weren’t sure you knew what busy was anymore. It seemed to be the same all the time - with very little variation in the amount of work you had to do day-to-day - sometimes you just had to work on them faster. With more and more to do for the Marines on the front lines, and with seemingly every other person declaring themselves to be a 'Pirate' these days, at least things were never dull - that you could count on. Today, another ship arrived, apparently with a lot of injured Marines on board, given how many new papers you had stacked up on your desk. You sat back in your chair and blew out a breath. You were glad at least none of these new patients appeared to be in any serious condition. The most interesting thing to you was the newly docked ship's designation: HQ 3. You regarded the papers again, and began to rifle through them slowly. He hasn’t said anything, you thought. Figures. There could be a reason for that, of course… he could be in here. You dared not go through them too quickly to find out. These days he had no reason to tell you, either.

Marking another case as not urgent, you became aware of a sudden clamouring outside your office. Back and forth yelling that sounded more like panic. So much for hiding away... Pushing yourself up from your desk, you opened the door and leaned against the frame, poking your head out into the corridor. Several nurses and doctors were running between rooms, each and every one worked for you now. Which meant that when you called out to them, they stood to attention. "What's going on out here!?" "Nothing we can't handle." "Oh, I have no doubt - is everything okay?" "Some of the new inpatients have a flair for the dramatic is all M'am!" You chuckled, folding your arms, and touched your head to the doorframe too. "Sounds right. Maybe we should give them something to be dramatic about!" You cracked a grin. "If sedative is necessary, get that going - but nothing appears serious. I don't want anyone else on the ward panicking or getting distressed though. Try to get them to keep it down." You winked. "Else I’ll be forced to tell them to, and I'm pretty sure they won't want that."

The small group who had paused to listen to you nodded along, before almost shying away from you, and retreating into the rooms they had come from. You were about to ask why – unless they were scared you were about to force something more upon them yourself – before your question was answered for you. "Oh, I don't know about that." You couldn't have stopped the smile spreading across your face if you'd tried. Not at the sound of that voice. You turned your head to him slowly. HQ 3 meant Garp, and the Vice Admiral brought with him his right-hand man, who was now staring back at you with something of a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Bogard was leaning against the wall right outside your door, letting it support his full weight, right arm held across his body, left hand raised to his chin. If you'd have bet on that stance, you might have won. He had a nasty habit of just appearing like this, but you would never be one to complain about that.   You let your eyes linger on him as you drew them up and down his body. You could pretend it was for your deduction, but you both knew better. "What are you doing here? You don’t look injured to me.” His dark eyes swept the ward, which now hosted a group of Marines from the ship he sailed on. “Where he goes, I follow.” He started. “And, if I leave the ship here, I get to see you. So, it’s not all bad. Guess we’ll be staying while we stock back up, do repairs,” he paused briefly. “The usual.” You bit back the words you really wanted to say. "Doesn't sound so bad. Guess you'll be wanting the recent discharge list?" "You read my mind." "I know you!" You let that statement linger before adding, "all business. Let me get you that list."

You withdrew back into your office, gathering the papers of cleared Marines now waiting to be assigned back onto any ships that were currently docked who were in need of recruits. Much to your surprise you found your hands were shaking. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves; maybe you were more excited about this encounter than you anticipated. To say your relationship with the man standing outside your door was complicated would be an understatement. Something along the lines of a long distance, long term situationship might sum it up best - but they were just a few words that meant nothing to the history of it.

You had been a cadet when you'd first met him. He was a few years older than you. Back when Bogard was just finding himself in the Marine's. It was obvious to you then how fast he was going to climb the ranks. You'd been friends since day one - well, almost. Once you'd graduated your cadet training and had chosen to be stationed as part of the medical division, you began to realise just how injury prone and stubborn he was. At least that was the way he always presented himself to you. The number of times early on you'd found yourself patching up his gashes and wounds with him insisting they were just scratches were innumerable. You found yourself very quickly worried about him in ways that went beyond mere friendship. And the next time he'd done it had been your final straw. You couldn't recall your confession exactly, but you did remember that it came out in the middle of a heated ramble. You had been in tears – you were mad at him for getting hurt, and you were crying because you didn’t want to lose him. Fixing him up that time quickly led to a first kiss, and soon after a relationship. But it didn’t last.

Although he would never tell the story that way, the truth was at that point Bogard had been just dumb enough to make sure he always got an injury, so he had an excuse to stop by and see you, but smart enough to make sure he was never in any real danger. He had mellowed out a lot since then - he was so much more serious and careful now - especially with the responsibilities he had. Man, the more you thought about it, the more you realised just how much time had passed... You carried just as many responsibilities yourself now, but could you say that you didn't still worry about him? No - but he was always so far away that you couldn't allow yourself to dwell on it too much. The 'see you when I see you' was fine if he was going to turn up at your door looking as pristine as he did today. Bogard knew what he was doing - he wouldn't be Garp's second in command if he didn't. You trusted that you had no reason to worry about him. Not even on the Grand Line. If he did ever come back injured - you didn't want to think too much about it - you knew you'd go above and beyond. If anyone had ever been curious about what you were, then that scenario would probably hold all the answers. Though while that wasn't happening, it was fine as a mystery.

He hadn't moved an inch when you returned with the stack. "Here you are, unless I should be giving these to the Vice Admiral?" Bogard took the papers in a way that suggested which was wisest; to him. You held your hands up to indicate that was well noted. "Just let me know who stays and who goes so I can update my records." He flipped through them quickly. "Of course. I suppose it will depend on how many we want that aren't cadets." "Cadets? I mean there might be some fresh faces there, but they will come with a little experience." "Might need that where we're going." This time it was his right hand held to his chin as he moved to answering your question quickly. "Yes, cadets. We're training them." "You're training cadets?" You could see it, actually. He'd be good at that - tough but fair. His captain too. "Lucky cadets." Bogard placed the papers in his pocket. His expression seemed to suggest that might not be the phrase he'd use. He looked up and passed you, studying the corridor and listening to the activity you'd just set in motion, before turning his attention fully back to you. "The whole ward, huh?" "It'll be the whole medical centre soon." "So I hear. Never in doubt when it comes to you." You looked away bashfully - voice quiet. "Thank you." "Still, you could be out on a ship as the main doctor. A HQ ship even. You're plenty good enough." You made a noise, but didn't want to look like you were laughing at his suggestion. "Despite being a Marine, I still prefer dry land. I'm comfortable here. I enjoy my work! I’m even about to be promoted. Where do you go once you're a ship doctor for a HQ vessel?" "It would be worth it for all the places you would see,” he continued. “The prestige." You knew where this was headed, and turned it back on him as quickly as you could. "And you, what about when they call you to World Government bureaucracy and pen-pushing, and you spend more time in a building than you do on the open ocean?" You asked. Bogard made a face like he was considering it, but you knew he wasn't. “Right now, I would probably decline such a position.” he huffed. “I think I have much to learn before I go there." “Uh huh." You knew that, how could you not? Just like he knew you didn't want to be out at sea. No matter how many times he would try to persuade you out there every time he saw you.

That was the point you had known it wouldn't work out. You wanted him safe with you, whereas he wanted you to go travelling the world with him. Neither would comprise. And so, every time you met, you would dance around this question again. Asking without saying 'why aren't we together, really?' in a different way every time. The reality was you'd both chosen your preferred lifestyles and your work over each other. But you weren’t about to admit that out loud, and Bogard wasn't either. So, here you stayed.

To make sure this didn't get too heavy immediately, you cleared your throat and changed the subject. "I heard you were in the East Blue?" He gave a short nod, but instead of offering any more information, he hit back with a rumour of his own. You couldn't say you was surprised that he would keep his official work a secret - such the man he was these days. You knew you'd get it out of him eventually. Though it might take something a little less... professional... "I heard you were with some captain." Try as he might to hide it, Bogard let his emotion seep into his voice. It was obvious who and what he was referring to, and he wasn't happy about it. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from teasing him about being jealous - that wouldn't end well. And what with where you were right now, you had to be very careful what you let slip, just in case of any prying eyes and ears. And you also knew that Bogard knew he had no right to be jealous - regardless of the truth. Still, this was one thing you wouldn’t tease him about. Reassurance was the only way forward. "Rumours fly.” You dismissed. “That was never a thing." Which was true, after all, you still only had eyes for the man in front of you. Despite the fact that there had never been a conversation about it between you. You could date someone else. You just weren’t sure if Bogard believed you, especially as you didn't know how long he had been holding onto that knowledge for. You knew how much he valued the truth though, so lying would have been unwise at best. “I’d never do that.” you continued. To you, you thought. But you left that part off. You were met with the same steady look he'd been regarding you with throughout this whole conversation so far. You sighed, glancing behind you back down the ward - all seemed calm right now. They knew how to reach you if they needed your help. Turning back to him, you offered a gentle smile. "Care to take a walk with me?" He pushed himself away from the wall with a smile. Turning across, he offered you his arm - ever the gentleman. You smiled back sweetly, wrapping yourself around him, and allowing yourself a moment to admit in your mind just how much you'd missed him.

For a while there was silence, but it was comfortable and more relaxed. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to stray very far. It'd be more like a walk around the block, but it was still away from unwanted attention. He watched you closely. You carried yourself and your rank well. You coped with the pressure of it all. You could handle yourself. You just wouldn't answer the call to open ocean. It seemed strange to him, but he admired how sure of yourself, and your convictions you were. He would not change your mind, no matter how much he wanted to. Still, there was something about the rumour that was bothering him. It wasn't that Bogard thought you were lying - of course you wouldn't. You knew how much he disapproved of it. It was the subject of the rumour that hurt Bogard most. Of all the people that rumours could fly about with you, not him, but someone else? Someone who must have seen you far less than Bogard did… at least he would hope so. People were aware you had been something once. Was it so hard to believe that you might be making it work again? Bogard put in the work even when he was so far away. There were more than enough reasons to conclude that he was still with you. In many ways, he wanted to be asked. Even if he went against his principles and denied it. Though, given you weren't technically a couple, it wasn’t technically lying. He hated how much it caused him to wonder if you had ever been with anyone else ever since you broke up. If Bogard couldn't even get a rumour going, but someone else could? It bothered him that he could get wrapped up in such a way. You weren’t his. But the exclusivity was an unwritten rule. It was expected that you would always be able to return to each other like this. That didn't mean if either of you fell in love with someone else… Surely you had both expected the other to have moved on by now. You both should have moved on by now! It hadn’t been months after all; it hadn’t even been a few years. It was closer to decades, and here you both were. Bogard just didn't want to hear it being discussed. He wasn't sure what heartbreak would feel like; but he didn't want to know either way. And he hated even more that, after all this time, if he lost you for good, he knew his heart would break.

The silence from him wasn't something that you thought was particularly unusual - Bogard was notoriously a man of very few words.  Though you often wondered what ran through that head of his; but someone had to keep Garp in check, so you knew his mind was sharp at least. They seemed like complete opposites - which, you thought, made them perfect for each other. Walking with him this close around the medical centre was enough for you right now. It was nice getting used to his presence again. Even if you knew you'd have to let him go soon. And too soon at that. Glancing over to him, you recognised Bogard’s look was a little further away than you had expected. Realising that you wanted those gorgeous brown eyes back on you, you broke the silence. If he was in his head about this stupid rumour - which you wouldn't be surprised if the Marine Captain had started and stoked himself - then you knew what he needed to hear. And if he felt the truth was so important, he was about to get some. "I have to say, I'm not entirely sure why you're so worried about that rumour. It's me who should be thinking about things like that. Why, I bet you have a girl in every port!" It was clearly a joke, but his look was a little too sharp - Bogard clearly took offence to the idea he was worried. Even if he was. Luckily, his expression quickly softened. "Guy on every ship." He quipped back. You gasped, ready to take full offence to that. "That's way worse than the rumour! Stop it! What do you take me for!? At least mine could happen!" You weren’t stupid - he was a good-looking man. Loyal, dedicated; an old-fashioned romantic. Work-driven sure, but you'd seen other women fall for him. All it would take was for him to find one who he could fall for too, who would share in his dream and actually want to travel the world on a ship with him as a Marine. It scared you a little how easy it was for you to imagine that he could be in a very happy relationship right now. Bogard raised an eyebrow. Surely you didn't believe that, he thought. And if you did, how wrong you were. Surely the ridiculousness of his own statement only highlighted the ludicrousness of your own? How untrue it was? For you though, it was clear you had a point. Besides, what did he have to be worried about? Who would you date anyway? It wasn't like you were about to pick up a guy at a bar or something. "Nearly all the men I see around here are either sick or injured." You protested. He shrugged, and when he doubled down, you were glad you could hear the jokey tone to his voice. "All the more time to get to know them then." "Please." You scoffed, pushing his arm a little. "Besides, you're the only one writing to me, and making me origami, so..." He stopped so abruptly, but you were ready for that. Halting to measure his reaction. He looked across to you curiously. You never wrote him back; he didn't expect you to. Bogard smiled - for once a little wider than usual. Possibly more of a smirk. "Like those, do you?" He teased. You allowed yourself to blush under the weight of his look. The bolstered confidence in him at your words, and then your admittance. "Maybe a little too much."

Despite the jokes you made, it was barely covering up what you really meant - bringing to light exactly what you were both most worried about. And the ego-boosting rush of hearing that it wasn't true. The real truth was no matter how nonchalantly either of you said goodbye - see you later - neither of you wanted to see the other with someone else. Neither of you would like it very much. The difference was you were quite prepared for the possibility of that eventuality. Bogard was not.

Once you had made the full circle and wandered back to your office, you resumed much the same positions as you had before. Although closer and more comfortable this time. Once the ice had thawed a little, you were now acting more as friends. (As if that was all you were.) Where you could get him to smile a little, and if you were very, very, very lucky, you might even get a huffed laugh out of him. Although he did have one last piece of official business to pass by you. He pulled some rolled-up papers out of his Marine coat. "You asked about the East Blue before." He started. "I did." You straightened your relaxed posture a little. Assuming you wouldn't have to do any work to get a candid answer this time. "We were there chasing around a new upstart young group of Pirates." He continued. "Another group?!" You very nearly rolled your eyes; you’d lost count of the crews popping up all over the place over the years. HQ 3 seemed a little overkill, though. "You guys? Really?!" Bogard shook his head. "Understandable reaction. But this crew has potential." He held the roll out to you. "May I request you put these up around the wards?" You looked from the roll to him and back and took it gently. "These upstarts already have bounties?" You asked. "Their captain does." He replied. You continued to stare at him questioningly, but when all he did was stare back, you knew the answer was on the paper itself. You unravelled them and almost let out a laugh.

'Monkey D. Luffy' - the name explained everything. You looked back at Bogard with an amused expression and raised eyebrow. Bogard merely shook his head, expression in understanding of your reaction. 'Let's not go there!' "Sure. I'll put these ones up! That's quite the bounty for the East Blue though! Who'd he piss off!?" You walked back into your office to put it with your unfinished pile of admission checks. This time Bogard followed you, standing in the doorway. "Nezumi.” He replied. “Oh, that weirdo? With the rat face?” You circled your head with your finger. “Rat would certainly be one way to put it.” You couldn’t help your perhaps overly loud reaction. “Oooh! Ooooh. Ooh! Would you like me to tell him that next time I see him?” Bogard placed his hands either side of your door frame, leaning in a little.  ‘Oh yeah you would badmouth me like that!,’ he thought - instant reaction - mouth opening before he changed his mind. Returning to a more relaxed lean, and crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t waste my breath.” You whistled. “Damn! You got a mouth on you.” Sharp as the blade he carried - when he wanted to be. But perhaps also a sign of how close you were, that he would speak as freely as this. Instead of responding, he opted to watch you with his eyes narrowed. You chuckled. “No, I know you. I know that you don’t waste your words.” Pausing for thought, you placed the papers down slowly. Raising your eyes to the window, you mused. “I guess I feel honoured that you share so many of them with me.” “Writing letters is completely different.” He replied. You looked across to him; voice sweet, and smile gentle. “That’s not what I meant.” Bogard bit his lips together, unsure of a comeback. Instead he wound the conversation back, nodding to the poster you just placed down. “Highest bounty on the East Blue now, actually. Doubt he'll stay there though." He said. "Ah. Grand Line bound!" You replied inquisitively. For a while the whimsy of it all had you smiling, until your smile dropped in realisation. If HQ 3 had been chasing them around the East Blue? You looked back to him slowly. Was Bogard going to follow them around the Grand Line? How long would that take? How long would it be until you saw him again? Even he knew he didn't have the answer to that. As he'd stated - where Garp went, he did. No questions asked. Still, Bogard couldn't leave it like that. He felt compelled to reassure you. "Of course, we might not follow them. We had investigations going on before they arrived on the scene." You remembered. "What now then? You really think you'll be back to 'Baroque Works'?" "We were heading that way anyway. I don't see why that would change now." He shrugged. "Doubtless you'll find out when I write to you!" You chuckled, running your fingertips over the picture in the wanted poster. A new kid on the block in a straw hat? Generations had seen this before.

Silence fell for a moment, which allowed him time to look around your office. Then he really couldn't help but smile. Lined up along the window frame, and just about every spare space on your shelves were collections of intricate origami. Bogard had sent you every single one of them. His preference was birds of different shapes, sizes, and colours. But they were all there. Every letter he had sent you came with one, and he'd sent you a letter every time he felt he had something worth saying. Writing back wasn't the point of it. He could guarantee that no one else knew where these came from. Whether you made them or they just appeared. But they weren't there for anyone else to know about - they were there for you. And every time Bogard saw them he wondered how the hell he could ever let himself get worried about any feelings you might have for anyone else. He looked back to you - having finished studying the picture of Luffy, you were now watching him - and Bogard knew he'd been caught with a rare smile on his face. He let it bleed into his words. "You kept them all." It wasn't a question, and his heart swelled. You giggled, pulling a box draw out from the top of your desk. "Honey, you have no idea!" From within it spilled forth letters upon letters, all wrapped up in Marine paper and blue ribbon. You had kept every single one of them too.

It was a little later in the day, as you were finishing up another round of administering medication, when you returned to your office and found that another Marine had made himself comfortable there. And not the one you would have expected. "V-Vice Admiral!" You stood to attention as he rose from your chair, "Sir! How can I help you?" "At ease, please!" His smile was warm, "In fact it's me that I think can help you!" He held out the stack of papers you'd given Bogard earlier. "I trust my second in command’s judgement on these." You took them gratefully. "Of course. I'll make sure everyone is prepped and ready to cast off when you're ready to set sail, Sir." "Better make it sooner rather than later, Lieutenant.” Garp placed his hands in his pockets, expression serious. "I don't want to be hanging around for too long. We have much to get started on." "Oh- I see." You knew you was failing at hiding your look of disappointment. Letting go was never easy, but if you had to do it sooner than you expected? You'd only just got Bogard back - you weren’t ready to let him go again just yet. Garp could see it on your face. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Bogard interact with you before. They'd stopped off here plenty of times. He'd just never pried into the private life of his second in command before. But something was clearly going on this time. If he hadn't thought so before. He indicated to the origami on your shelves. "I always wondered where these went. Clearly, Y/N, they all come to you!" Your eyes widened. You didn't even know anyone else knew Bogard made them. "Y-yes, when he writes he always sends..." You gestured to the shelves, wondering if you'd said too much. Did Garp know that he... wrote to you? "Would have thought writing was his preferred method of communication. I know he’s a man that’s concise at best.” he continued. “Though he never seems to have that problem around you. Which is something in itself." You knew you was blushing by now, and you couldn't quite meet the Vice Admiral’s eyes. What he was saying was by no means untrue. "He's not always been like that." You were lying and you knew it. But you had to say something. You had no idea what Garp did or didn't know, or what Bogard would even want his superior to know! "Mhm." You weren’t sure that response was convincing enough. "Can't help but wonder exactly what's going on between you two." he enquired. Dammit! You were definitely turning redder now. "He-" You paused. Then took a deep breath, locking eyes with Garp this time. "We were once a couple, yes. But, we went our separate ways due to our own work preferences." You gave a shrug, realising how sad you suddenly felt as you smiled. "He wouldn't stay. I wouldn't go." "...Shame." Garp nodded. "From what I’ve heard, you have enormous potential. Definitely something we could use out there." You bowed deeply. "Those are kind words, Sir. Thank you. But it was never what I wanted. The front line isn't for me, and I would be outright useless in a fight. I'm no field medic." "We could change that." He interjected. You laughed. "I hear you're training cadets?" You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to that, weren’t sure how you would act being trained by them, honestly. "With all due respect Sir, many have tried and at this point I think I'm fine being a competent medic, and a pathetic fighter. I barely scraped through weapons training, and I decided that I would never want to handle one again! At least not by choice." "Competent would not be the word I'd use." He took a few steps forward, causing you to stiffen your posture. "Brilliant, maybe." He tilted his head. "Funny you should say that and be going off with a swordsman." You gaped for a minute. "We-Well I--" You tried to compose yourself. "That was always Bogard's thing." Your laugh was nervous. "Though I admit I can't help but be fascinated. I notice that people are intimidated by him without him even having to draw. So, once he does?" It was hot. It made you feel a little something something, and you'd never really seen him in action in a real fight.

Though of course you were not about to mention this to Garp.

"Well, there's always room on my ship. If you want this to be something more.” He paused for a brief second. “Intimate again." Garp's stare was intense. "I do hope you'll consider it, Y/N." You swallowed hard. Intimate? As if you weren't still--- "A HQ ship would be an incredible honour, Sir. I…” you paused. “Surely will consider it." "Glad to hear it." he replied enthusiastically. Garp swept past you, but stopped at the door. "I have no doubt you'll have the Marine's prepped and ready for our departure. I do suggest if you want to spend any more time with my second, you get as much of it in as possible." Even if you couldn't see him, you could hear the amusement and smirk in his voice. "Should I send him back up to your office, Y/N?" You opened your mouth, but found you couldn't answer before he walked away laughing.

Next thing you knew you was back in the arms of your situationship - under the sheets.

***

Despite what Bogard and Garp had said, it was nice for them to stick around for a little while. It reminded you that you shouldn’t get your hopes up that it would be permanent. But it gave you a taste you couldn’t help but crave. He really was all yours here. And you could pretend you were somewhere in the past, thinking about this as your far-off future. One where neither of you had ever put anything above the other. Breaks were rare when you had work to do, but right now, you also couldn’t afford to spend any free time anywhere else.

Bogard was sitting on the steps to the medical wing when you found him. Hunched over what could only have been a lighter, given the small smoke trail.

You sighed gently, folding your arms and shaking your head. Taking the steps slowly towards him - it wasn’t like you were about to sneak up on the swordsman, he knew your footfall well enough by now - it still didn’t cause him to extinguish his smoke. You stopped on the step above the one he was sitting on. Two heavy steps down, to let him know you were less than impressed, hands moving to your pockets as you bent slightly over him - feeling all at once like a doctor scolding your patient. (Well, it wasn’t like you hadn’t already had the opportunity to check his full physical health at this point.) “You know those aren’t good for your health, right?” You started. As if to mock you, he took a long deliberate drag. “Trust me, if you were on my ship, you would need these to relax too.” He replied. You narrowed your eyes. “Oh no, Mister. No using your captain as an excuse!” “He’s a damn good one.” He protested. Another drag, before he removed it from his lips, but he didn’t put it out. You leaned yourself a little closer to him, lowering your voice – positively saccharine. “Don’t worry, you can order me around!” Bogard raised a hand to his mouth slowly, and coughed. You waited with a smirk on your face for him to take the bait. “Don’t tempt me.” Bogard gave his voice the appropriate stern edge. You had the cheekiest little grin on your face, and hummed like you were a little too happy with yourself for that one. He gave you enough time to bask in it, before looking back to his smoke. “You’re going to ask me to stop, right?” You folded your arms, sighing. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record. You know my spiel by now.” Bogard gave a single nod of agreement. “You’ve never quite got me to quit yet. I think by now you’d know it wasn’t going to happen.” His eyeline had remained level until that moment, but he looked up at you now. “How’s work?” He asked. “Nothing changes…” You shrugged. “But I do have five minutes.” You took the next step down and sank to sit with him. Bogard’s smile was gentle, no matter how obvious it was that you would choose to spend your precious free time with him when he was around, it didn’t make it any less significant of an act.  “Smoke?” He held it out to you. “Ha!” You liked that he smiled at your sarcasm though, his eyes back on whatever he was watching before. “What are you-?” Bogard nodded forward, then pointed, you followed his fingertip down to the beach. Upon it were Garp, and two marines whom he looked like he was giving a stern talking to. “Oh! Your cadets?” “Mhm.” “And you’re up here because?” He scoffed. “Please, you think they’re ready to take me on yet?” You almost rolled your eyes as he took another drag, making sure to blow the smoke away from you. “I can take on both of them using only my less dominant hand. It’d be hardly worth their time either. What does it teach them? Something they aren’t ready for?” You couldn’t help the smirk that toyed with your lips. “Do you have one of those?” “One of what?” He enquired. “A less dominant hand?” You teased. You couldn’t look at him, because you knew you’d crack - but you knew the kind of stare he was giving you, before he jogged your shoulder. “Stop.” You couldn’t help the quick burst of laughter you let escape.

You continued to watch the two young men train with Garp for a while. And eventually you let yourself unwind enough to lean up against his shoulder. It was funny how much more you felt his body sink into relaxation below yours after that. And he put his smoke out too. He was content to sit with you like this. Yes. This was exactly what you dreamed of. Even if you couldn’t say you missed Bogard often (you were far too busy working here to do much of anything!), at least you didn’t let yourself and your thoughts linger on that feeling for too long. This physical contact was exactly what you needed. His letters could cover almost everything else, letting you know he was okay and that you didn’t have to worry. It was exactly what made this work without it having to be a relationship. But they couldn’t hold you. They couldn’t replace his touch. Your eyes lowered to his hands. It was weird for you to think just what they were capable of. He could be so gentle, but his swordsmanship? Just how many lives had Bogard taken with the exact same hands that held you the way he did? You sank your teeth into your lip as you frowned. You could think these things all you liked. Right now you just wanted to hold them - that’s what you knew for sure.

Bogard regarded your body language. Even when you weren’t looking at him, he knew what you desired. It didn’t matter how damn long you had been away from each other. At this point, it was simply muscle memory. You could both say whatever you wanted. Sometimes he wondered if being “single” really was the easiest option for you. It sure sounded like it. But he knew how it complicated things. How it twisted your feelings. Maybe you couldn’t make it work together. But you couldn’t make it work without each other either. Bogard knew you were thinking about how this could be your life. How could you not be? He was thinking it too – and by now he knew you better than you knew yourself.

He moved his hand from his knee, extending it towards yours - palm up - still watching your reaction. You hesitated; too shy to look at him now. Bogard knew, of course he knew. At this point he might as well have been a mind reader. Your movements were slow and deliberate. You took his hand gingerly; lacing your fingers together. Before moving your other to fit his hand between yours. He watched you do this with a smile, before pulling your hands gently back into his lap. You made a small noise before burying your face in his shoulder; surely blushing now. He focused back on the beach, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Yes - this was worth coming back for. Even if accepting the way you otherwise lived meant he sacrificed this to miss you the rest of the time. And if neither of you would move to give that up, you always would.

*** Seeing him off came all too quick. His return seemed but a fleeting moment - a heartbeat, and you were having to let him go again. The thing that stopped you from letting this be anything more than it was. But you were kidding yourself. You were in a relationship. The code; the unwritten rule, the exclusivity of it. There'd never been anyone else. Neither of you were calling it that, though. Neither of you referred to each other as ‘Partners', or ever enquired if it would be like that again. Everything but in name. Yet you would continue to tell yourself this was for the best - and that you wouldn't hurt for a little while as he sailed off into the distance.

Everyone around you on the dock was moving fast, getting final-final preparations done before they set sail. For the two of you, time was virtually standing still. Your hands were in his, and right now all you wanted was for them to stay there as long as possible. As tradition stated, you both had one more try in you - one more line of persuasion before the same conclusion would be reached, and you went your separate ways once again. Bogard leaned into you. That small near smile on his lips that reflected so much more brilliantly in his eyes. And in that moment the light was hitting them just right; illuminating that brown colour in a million beautiful shades. His voice was soft and sweet - as if this time he was really pulling out all the stops. "You should come with us.” he said. “We could always use a doctor." You chuckled, shaking your head. But you were grinning. You couldn't help but smile brilliantly at the way he was making you feel. Of course he was still trying to get you to go with him, despite already knowing your answer. You had to admire that spirit – every single time. "My place is here." You said firmly. You bit your tongue between your teeth cheekily for a moment, before teasing back with. "You could always stay." It was Bogard's turn to chuckle. "You know I can't do that." Your head tilted. 'Exactly'.

But he kept leaning, and you weren’t about to stop him. Now might have been the time to be professional. But it was also the exact time to be unprofessional. You pushed yourself up to meet him in a goodbye kiss. Both of you probably expected it to be short and sweet, but then again neither of you were pulling away - content to stay in it. You couldn't take it anymore, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He reciprocated, hands on your waist pulling you into his arms. At some point someone whistled. You felt him laugh, but he didn't pull back – Bogard just kept kissing you. Not even with the thought in his head that he was doing this in public. A little harder, edge a little more possessive of you. There was something in this kiss meant to completely destroy the idea that there was, or ever would be, anyone else, ever. Even when you were merely joking about it, even when he was too. You surrendered to it, and to him, completely.

Back on the ship, Helmeppo has spotted what was happening on the docks below. And if he was surprised by the kiss in the first place, the fact that it was going on - the stoic second in command swordsman that Bogard was? The guy who wore a perpetual frown most of the time! This wasn't happening - in fact it was beyond being seen to be believed! It was a ‘pinch me I must be dreaming’ moment. He smacked Coby - who was only oblivious because he was working - perhaps a little too hard. But he didn't care, and threw his other hand just to check that he wasn't the only one seeing this! The smaller cadet also couldn't help but stop and stare, almost gaping.

Garp watched the scene with a shake of his head, and a laugh. Sometimes it was good to be right!

Eventually you both had to pull back, if for nothing but a need to breathe. But you kept close. Your fingers gripped his Marine coat tight as you held him close to you. His head dipped to yours. Bogard kept his arms wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried your best to hold back your tears. "Stay safe." You whispered, emotion flooding your voice. "I don’t want to see you back here anything less than immaculate.” “Stay safe too." His voice was equally emotional, strained against the proper tone he was trying to emulate. "Don’t take any shit.” You pulled slightly back from him, laughing. “You come back to me.” "You know where we're going. I can't make any promises. But…" He relinquished your warmth none too fast, reassuring you. "I always do."

You stood for a moment like that, unsure where to go from here. You couldn't help it, pulling him back for one more kiss goodbye - and much shorter, to your own dismay. Before drawing your hands to the centre of his chest, fussing with his Marine coat for a second, and making certain to pull it straight, ensuring that the emblem presented itself dead centre. If you were going to tell him to be immaculate when he returned, you damn well weren’t sending him away if he was anything less! "You tell those other girls..." You laughed, unable to finish the joke. "Tell them what?" "They c- can't have—y-!” You kept laughing through it. “I can't even finish that thought." You grinned, putting it another way instead. "You're mine." He shook his head at you. "Always was." Before bowing low, "Until next time, Y/N." Bogard left you with a smile, and with that, began walking a few feet to the ship’s gangplank. You called after him, "I'm already looking forward to that letter!" He nearly laughed.

Upon boarding, Helmeppo and Coby still hadn't got over the scene. Staring at him almost in awe - definitely with a million questions for the man helping to train them. It took just one look, a single stare to swear both of them to eternal silence. Maybe they would get their answers one day. Maybe he would want to talk about it. Right now, Bogard wasn't sure. He did know he considered it private, no matter how passionate and public his goodbye was to you.

You stood back, listened to him shouting commands to get the ship running with a smile on your face. Just like that he was in his element again. He was working now. He was the second in command to a Vice Admiral. 'That's my man.' For a moment, you wondered if you should have asked. You’d still never had a concrete conversation around being officially together again. You supposed it was as unsaid as the exclusivity. The illusion that you would both still be single; until the time you met again. But what was more official than 'Always was.'?

Whatever you were, you were content.

As the ship pushed away from the dock, Bogard appeared at the starboard side railing, offering a hand up gesture as a wave goodbye. You waved back enthusiastically. Glad to see him one last time before he sailed into the sunset. And here you would be the next time he was able to visit you. Because you would wait for him. And maybe one day, you’d give in to him. Or he would settle down with you.

Whoever’s will won out in the end, right now you knew one thing for sure. You didn't care if it meant you were together.

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Two swordsmen down one to go! 🖤💚💛

Other OPLA Fics: 'Late to the Party - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

[rotisseries]

inspired by elli's poll lol cause this seems fun actually but if you guys have bad answers I'll kill myself on your doorstep or smth