#✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* tell me a history — wanted plots.

[sansaorgana]

maybe i’ve been watching too much GOT/HOTD shit but…tttw au where reader decides to seduce paul into p much being her servant (kinda like what cersei did to jaime except she still does actually care for him a bit). and lady jessica pushes for the marriage between reader and feyd to get her away from paul. i just feel like that’d make the fight between feyd and paul just that much more personal 🫢

THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hello! I hope you still remember my multichapter fic 🥴 It's been a long time but I needed a break from it to create other stories and finally it's time for me to write the requests that were about this universe. For the start I went with this twisted AU and be warned because I have abandoned all my moral compass while writing it lol 😳🙈 I mostly explored the dynamic between the characters here and I don't think you have to know "Thrown To The Wolves" to read this story but it surely will make more sense if you do! 😊 Also, since it's an AU – and a wicked one as well – I didn't tag anyone from this fic's taglist. I also didn't tag anyone from the Feyd-Rautha's taglist because it's an AU of already existing fic that not everyone has read, so... I didn't want to bother anyone 😅

WARNINGS — INCEST, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), Reader is NOT a good person (as we already know... but she's even worse here)

WORD COUNT — 5,380

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

Watching your half-brother train, you only pretended to read a book in front of you. You couldn’t focus on the words because you were still rethinking the argument you had with your father earlier. Now, when Paul was officially an adult, Duke Leto Atreides signed a document that only solidified your brother as the heir and the next Duke.

He might not have been from a legal union like you were, but he was a boy. However, you had a feeling it was about more than that. After all, if your father wanted to change the law and allow women to inherit, he would do that. No, it was about Paul being his favourite. It was about Paul being prepared for this role from the moment he was born. It was about Paul being born from a woman that your father truly loved. Unlike your mother whose cold grave you had visited earlier that day. You were the only one visiting her.

To think that you were supposed to be born a boy. Paul was supposed to be a girl. Yet, the cruel universe played a joke at your expense. And now you were a burden of the Atreides family instead of an heir. Unless…

The book you were reading was a history one, telling stories of ancient times and the ways of the noblemen in the past. It mentioned gross and yet fascinating acts of the forgotten practices to keep the royal bloodlines pure. Incestous relationships between cousins… and even siblings. At first, reading the book late at night in your room, you had felt disgust at the mention of a sister-wife. But now, watching Paul training and reliving an argument with your father, you began having second thoughts.

The only way of getting the title of The Atreides Duchess would be to marry Paul. And he was of gentle, soft nature. He was not only devoted to you in his brotherly, naive love but also innocently easy to manipulate. You had done that multiple times before already; making him take blame for something you did or do something for you that you didn’t feel like doing yourself.

Would he be easy to seduce, though? You wondered, trying to shake off a small wave of guilt and disgust at the thought. You had to be stronger than your moral compass to survive. You knew already that Lady Jessica was plotting behind your father’s back to send you away, to marry you off to some awful, insignificant lord and get rid of you. Seducing Paul was your only way of staying at home and of getting the power you wanted.

To have an apple and eat an apple, you thought, biting on your lower lip.

Paul was inexperienced with women. Not that you were very experienced with men yourself but you were observant and interested in the subject. You studied books, interactions, gossip. Paul was not interested in such affairs at all. His whole life was studying and training, being moody and sad about his future role of the Duke.

Oh, the irony. He didn’t even want to bear this title that you so badly craved.

You closed the book loudly, startling him a little and getting his attention. He raised an eyebrow at you but you only smirked and gathered your things to go back inside.

At the supper table, you were acting moody and annoyed. You watched from the corner of your eye how it was catching Paul’s interest. When you excused yourself in the middle of the meal and left, visibly pissed at something, it didn’t take him long to follow you.

“Sister, wait,” he called for you in the corridor when you were near the doors leading to your chambers. “What is it? Talk to me,” he pleaded and grabbed your arm from behind.

“Oh, sweet Paul,” you smiled and turned around to face his confused face. He was sweet indeed. And he was a pretty boy, which you hadn’t been thinking of before for obvious reasons. But it wouldn’t be that difficult to force yourself to kiss him and lay with him. “You’re so adorable for worrying about me,” you sighed. “You’re the only one here who cares for me.”

“That is not true, (Y/N), you know that,” Paul fixed a hair strand on your face to push it off of your cheek. “Our father loves you and my mother… She cares about you, too. In her own way. I know that.”

“Your mother?” You snorted, looking up to meet his worried gaze. “She’s plotting already, don’t you know? She wants to marry me off and… And you as well,” you lied, looking away and pretending to get all shy.

“What?” Paul furrowed his brows as he let go of your arm. He was shocked to hear your revelation. “Am I not too young to get married? I mean, I know I could but… Shouldn’t I get older and wiser and…”

“I know,” you interrupted him and looked back into his pretty hazel eyes. “But what can I say? They want you to have a future Duchess already, so she can come here and be trained how to be a great leader one day by your side… To replace me…” You faked a shiver of your voice. “That was the reason behind my argument with our father. What did he tell you?” You bit on your lower lip.

“That…” Paul swallowed thickly, not wanting to anger you or offend you, “That… That you are angry about me inheriting. I wanted us to talk about it, actually. I wanted to explain to you that it is not my wish. I would love to give the title to you. I do not wish to rule,” Paul assured you and took you by your hands.

All those sweet, gentle gestures that you had been giving no second thoughts until now since they were innocent. But now, you savoured each one of them, coming up with ideas how to use them against him.

“He lied,” you sighed and looked down, sadly. You felt a small sting in your heart but you had to ignore it. “The argument was about me not wanting to leave Caladan… Not wanting to leave my home and my family. I don’t want to be sent away… I will miss you, you’re all I have,” you faked a sob and hugged him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see how fake your crying was. You sniffed a few times to make it more authentic.

Paul was surprised and a little petrified. However, he put his arms around you to pull you closer and rub your back.

“Oh, sweet (Y/N), my dear sister… I won’t let them send you away if you don’t want to… And not to anyone you wouldn’t desire yourself,” he assured you.

“I don’t want you to get married yet either… I… I…” You were looking for the right words as you took a step back to look at him again, faking a shivering lip and glossy eyes by blinking a lot. “I wish we were children again. Just you and I, always together. I don’t want anyone to ever come between us.”

“No one will come between us, (Y/N),” Paul squeezed your fingers. “I promise you that. You’re my sister, you forever will be. I love you,” he nodded and gave you puppy eyes.

“You… You don’t understand,” you pulled away and opened the doors to your room. “Go away, I shouldn’t be near you,” you took a deep and dramatic breath in. “It’s bad for me, I… Oh, I shouldn’t tell,” you sighed and walked inside your room, hoping your weird reaction would intrigue him.

And indeed, Paul followed you inside. He caught you by your wrist and made you stop as the doors closed behind him. You had him trapped between the wall and your body even though he was the one holding your hand. But his grip was gentle as usual.

“I don’t understand, (Y/N). Please, what’s wrong? I hate to see you like this,” he was worried and desperate to help you. You bit on your lip and smirked, changing the atmosphere quickly as you took a step ahead and got free from the grip of his hand.

Taking a step ahead, you forced him to retreat and his back hit the wall. Your faces were inches away and you batted your eyelashes innocently as you stared at his lips hungrily.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Paul swallowed thickly.

“You wanted to know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered seductively. “It’s a sinful disease, Paul, and believe me, I’ve tried to get rid of it but I can’t. You’re all I can think about,” your words were so soft and quiet, almost inaudible, for his ears only.

“We…We shouldn’t… “Paul whimpered pathetically. However, he didn’t even try to push you away. You raised an eyebrow at him, genuinely surprised at the lack of more definitive reaction.

“So, you want me to stop? Tell me then, sweet brother. I don’t want to hurt you,” you assured him and caressed his cheek with the fingertips of your right hand. He closed his eyelids and breathed in your scent. “Want me to stop?” You repeated the question teasingly.

Paul didn’t dare to say it out loud. He only shook his head as a no.

You had expected this task to be easy but you didn’t suspect it to be that easy. When you pressed your body closer to his, you felt how hard he was between his legs. Poor sweet Paul, so desperate for any girl’s attention, so inexperienced. He would really let his own sister take care of him. You chuckled and finally joined your lips together in a gentle kiss, not wanting to scare him away.

It was your first kiss, too, after all. And, for some reason, you really liked it. You liked that your first kiss belonged to your own brother, to your own flesh and blood. Even if Lady Jessica sends you away one day to marry another man, he would never possess you with his first marriage kiss for your own brother had the honour.

“I know you love your mother,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Paul’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted. He opened his eyelids slowly, looking at you in awe. It was adorable. “But she hates me,” you reminded him. “You must change her attitude towards me, you know. You don’t want them to send me away, don’t you? Who else is gonna kiss you so sweetly when I’m away?”

“I… I must leave now,” Paul swallowed thickly and pushed you away before running out of the room.

It left you confused but you knew that your confusion was no match with his. He was turned on and scared, he needed alone time. So, you gave him that and went to sleep yourself, a little anxious but also excited since the plan seemed to be working better than you had been expecting.

At first, Paul was ignoring you. Shyly looking away, blushing like crazy, avoiding your gaze. But you were relentless, always around him, talking to him with other people around, forcing him to answer and look at you. Eating by the same table, you would find moments when no one paid attention so you could treat yourself with fruit and honey in the most seductive manner while looking into his eyes. And you made sure to touch him briefly every time you walked past him. The poor boy was in physical and mental torture, you could see that and you only waited for him to snap.

You began to wear more revealing dresses and show off your body. But everything changed on the day you walked inside his bathroom, pretending it was an accident. He was in the bathtub, you just wanted to borrow a towel – a stupid and unbelievable excuse.

However, you didn’t walk in on him relaxing or taking a nap in the embrace of  warm water, no. You walked in on him being busy with himself with his lips parted, head thrown back and eyes shut close. The name he was moaning out loud was yours.

Gently, not wanting to startle him, you helped him to finish. And even though at first he was terrified of you seeing him like that he quickly gave in, too desperate to have any shame left in his body.

That act sealed your sinful union. He finally gave in to the ill-natured attraction and began to follow you around like the most loyal servant. And whenever you were left alone, he was like an overexcited puppy, wanting to kiss and be kissed, wanting to touch and be touched. Just in case – aware of the norms noble women were supposed to live by – you didn’t allow him to actually spoil your innocence. But everything else was allowed.

You were not only pleased with your seductive skills and the fact you had the future Duke wrapped around your little finger. Some twisted, wicked part of you was also happy from the fact that you managed to spoil your father’s favourite child; his little precious toy was broken now. Paul Atreides was rotten forever now. There was no going back from such sin.

You were damned already anyway. But it felt nice to drag someone down with you just for the sake of annoying your father and Lady Jessica.

Your own pride made you less attentive and careful, meanwhile Paul’s mother was very observant when it came to her son. He was the apple of her eye. She knew that his relationship with you had always been close but she noticed the sudden odd mood swings of Paul. First, he avoided you nearly shyly, only to follow you around even more than ever before again? You two had always been hugging sometimes, sharing an innocent kiss here and there but now Lady Jessica felt like it was getting more and more often for you to share affections. And she felt bad for suspecting a weirdly sexual energy behind those acts but after some time she stopped feeling guilty as she realised something had been going on behind her back indeed.

One time she decided to follow her son who went straight to your chambers after the training. Her footsteps were light and quiet, she took her time and gave you an opportunity to develop the situation. She pressed her ear to the doors and heard soft moans, sweet praises. Even though she had been suspecting it, she still felt shocked and disgusted to find out the truth.

Your heart stopped in your chest as the doors were pushed open and you spotted Lady Jessica catching you kissing her son. His cheeks went crimson red in an instant.

“Mother…” He swallowed thickly, standing up and clasping his hands in front of himself, trying to hide his erection.

Lady Jessica was speechless. Her eyes widened at first and then they squinted as she laid them on you.

“You little witch,” she hissed at you. “You twisted, evil minx. What have you done?”

“Me?” You acted innocent but you couldn’t hide a smirk.

Yes, it was scary to be found out. But it gave you satisfaction that she now was aware of how you had spoiled her sweet, precious son.

“Mother, don’t blame her!” Paul sweetly defended you, he was truly adorable. But he was ignored by the both of you. It was between you and her. He was only a tool.

“Have you got any idea what you’ve done?” Lady Jessica asked you harshly.

“What about it?” You asked and clenched your jaw.

What was the worst punishment anyway? You realised suddenly that even being sent away wouldn’t be so bad… The victory of spoiling Paul was the most delicious part of this situation.

“I will not tell your father,” Lady Jessica approached you to put her hands on Paul’s arms to walk him away gently. “For his own sake. He would be devastated. But this will be over. You better start packing,” she gave you a contemptuous look.

“Mother, no!” Paul pleaded. “I love her, I do. Can’t I marry (Y/N)? That’s what our ancestors were doing, why can’t we?”

You chuckled at him. He was so sweetly naive. Lady Jessica slapped his face.

“Stop talking nonsense!” She pushed him out of the room and then gave you one last look. “You look proud of yourself for bewitching my son. I’ll make sure you’ll pay for that.”

“And you’re not proud of bewitching my father?” You asked.

“I will send you to the Harkonnens, you spoiled brat. Their rot matches yours. But good luck with bewitching any of them,” she threatened.

The mention of the Harkonnens made you scared indeed. But you didn’t want to show it. Not in front of her.

But she was right. Wrapping Paul around your finger had been easy. Too easy. Doing the same to a Harkonnen would not.

However, you decided to keep your head high. You would never show fear or defeat in front of Lady Jessica.

Because of Lady Jessica’s words, you treated the marriage with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen like a challenge. With many attempts, you finally managed to tame him and it was your biggest pride.

Now you laughed at the memory of how proud you had been for spoiling Paul. It had been meaningless and too easy. Taming Feyd-Rautha to be your pet made you feel invincible.

Paul had been so naive and innocent that in the beginning of your marriage, he had still been sending you secret letters about his love and devotion. The news of his death had been nearly relieving – there would be no more pathetic, desperate letters, you had thought, while burning the last one.

Your husband knew about your past. Feyd-Rautha loved everything sick, twisted and rotten to the core. You had told him about Paul to impress him and it had worked. You had even allowed him to read some of the letters from Paul before burning them.

Finding out that Paul was alive after all, and he had gained power on Arrakis that you and your husband could only dream of, felt like a punch. You could see a switch in Feyd’s behaviour while you waited for the confrontation. He was observing you quietly and battling with his own thoughts. Feyd-Rautha had never been insecure before. But now he had a feeling you might still feel attraction to Paul Atreides. Especially now, when Paul was a powerful leader, too. After all, what spurred you on the most was power and influence.

What would Paul do seeing you again? You both wondered silently, without sharing your thoughts with each other. Would he want you back or would he toss you aside? Feyd feared that Paul still wanted you. You hoped he would. It would provide you safety no matter what outcome of that day would be.

Not that you didn’t love Feyd-Rautha. In the process of taming him, you had found yourself enamoured with him. You were two halves of the same rotten apple. But the most important thing for you was your own survival. Your own and the child’s under your heart.

The guards took you and other prisoners of the Arrakeen Palace to see the mysterious Muad’Dib but you all had already known who he truly was. The Reverend Mother, Princess Irulan and you – all the women amongst the prisoners – had known it for sure that the brave Fremen leader had to be an Atreides. You shared a connection with Paul, you were of the same father, the same surname, the same blood, the same flesh… Each other’s first lovers.

He looked different now; more mature. His hair was longer and curly instead of being neatly combed. His eyes were harsher and blue from the spice. You were nearly petrified at the sight of him because he… He looked handsome and attractive. You suddenly remembered all the shared kisses and affections and it made your cheeks burn.

“There you are, sweet sister,” Paul’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you. “I’ve been missing you,” he pointed out but you could spot harsh irony in his words.

From the corner of your eye you spotted Lady Jessica. Her power and influence had grown as well those past few months. She was a local Reverend Mother with her face covered under veils, chains and tattoos. She looked like the most intimidating and the most powerful person in the room. She probably was, even though you were standing next to The Emperor himself.

Lady Jessica had to already turn Paul against you. She had to tell him that you had been doing nothing but manipulating him for your own gain. You suddenly realised that you were in deep trouble and you instinctively searched for Feyd-Rautha’s hand to squeeze it. He was your husband, the father of your child, your perfect match made in hell. You had to keep him close, stay with him. Paul was never an option after all. He had been nothing but a game.

“Brother,” you greeted Paul with a nod of your head. “I thought you were dead.”

“You hoped,” Paul fixed you with a smirk.

“No,” you only answered.

“Come here,” he ordered. You felt the eyes of everyone watching intensely, wondering what was really going on. After all, the only people who knew about your unusual connection were Lady Jessica and Feyd-Rautha. Although you were suspecting that the Reverend Mother knew, too.

Feyd’s hand squeezed tighter around yours. He didn’t want you to leave his side. Walking up to Paul meant exposing yourself, you could be easily harmed. And it was not only about you at the moment. You were carrying the Harkonnen heir. The future Baron was growing under your heart.

“Come here,” Paul repeated the order, more harshly now. You let go of Feyd’s hand and walked away, feeling him move uncomfortably. However, he granted you personal freedom to make your own choices. He only watched carefully, like a guard dog that he was.

“I am here, brother,” you announced, standing right in front of Paul, facing him bravely. One of your hands rested on your abdomen.

“I am wiser now,” he told you. “I know that your intentions with me were never pure nor driven by your uncontrollable desires. You planned it all. Calculated.”

You remained silent, keeping your head high. You only heard the whispers of other people, wondering between each other what the conversation was about.

“And despite that knowledge, I must admit, I remain infatuated,” he confessed. “But you’re spoiled for me now. Your stench is one of the Harkonnens.”

“For I am a Harkonnen,” you nodded.

“Apparently, so am I,” he raised an eyebrow and you furrowed yours.

“How is that so?”

“The Baron… The late Baron,” Paul explained. “The one your husband slayed last night. He was my mother’s father.”

Everyone went silent. Those were two secrets that he had revealed – you didn’t want people to know that it was Feyd killing his uncle.

“You might have the Harkonnen blood flowing in your veins, dear brother, but you are no Harkonnen. You’re weak like an Atreides,” you spat out.

“Me? You, dear sister, you are weak. All your power, all your successes, they all only come from the men you have managed to wrap around your pretty little fingers. But you have achieved nothing yourself,” Paul’s jaw clenched as he reminded you with hatred burning through his eyes. “The only thing you actually did was to open your legs for the Harkonnen and carry his spawn,” Paul looked down at your womb with contempt.

There was so much jealousy in him, you spotted. He was not angry at you for manipulating him. He was angry at you for carrying another man’s child. And there was nothing more dangerous than a rejected lover.

Paul grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away, exposing your swollen abdomen.

“You cannot touch her,” Feyd barked and Paul looked up behind your shoulder to meet your husband’s gaze.

“There he is, my sister’s new pet,” Paul’s words were braver than you expected. No one would dare to speak to Feyd-Rautha like that.

“It’s a nasty thing to be jealous,” your husband spoke. “You see, she is my wife, she lays with me every night. You are nothing but a tossed aside toy who has only been given a taste but never a full meal.”

Paul was right, you suddenly realised. That you held no real power, that it only came from the men you had associated yourself with. Because now they were talking about you as if you were an object.

“Are we here to witness some wicked family drama? Spare me that,” The Emperor’s voice made you all turn your heads to look at him. He was disgusted and annoyed.

“You are here to pay for what you’ve done to our father,” Paul left your side to approach The Emperor and you took the opportunity to hurry back to Feyd. You stood behind him, clinged to his muscular arm, feeling protected by his strong, armoured body.

“Stop your pathetic show, Atreides,” The Emperor smirked. “There is a massed armada in orbit. You’re facing a full invasion.”

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me? They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think?” Paul asked him. “I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis!”

“He’s a fraud,” Feyd chuckled ironically. “My wife is the Duchess Atreides, I am the Governor of this world.”

“And so it is,” The Emperor nodded. “You’re nothing but a Fremen terrorist.”

“Gurney,” Paul called out the name you recognised. But when you looked at the man, he had no love nor sympathy in his eyes for you. So, you showed none as well.

“My Lord,” Gurney nodded at your brother.

“Send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all the spice fields,” Paul threatened. 

He was a madman now, you thought as Gurney nodded.

“You’re out of your mind,” The Emperor pointed out what everyone was thinking,

“He’s bluffing,” your husband spoke up as you clinged to his arm even tighter. You had a feeling already how this confrontation would end up like. It was either you and Feyd or Paul. There was no other way. And Paul’s behaviour was worrying. You were starting to suspect he had higher chances of winning than you had been predicting.

He wouldn’t kill you. He still cared for you, perhaps he still craved you. He would never be nice to you, but he’d keep you close, of that you were sure. But he would never let your husband or your child live. And that was the moment when you realised that you didn’t only care about your own self.

You cared about Feyd and you cared about your son. Way more than about your life. You’d rather die alongside them than live a few more decades alongside your brother without them.

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides,” The Reverend Mother warned him.

“Silence!” Paul screamed, using The Voice, startling everyone in the process.

It was no secret that this ability was reserved only for the Bene Gesserit. For the women of the order. A man possessing this knowledge was not only dangerous but also extremely powerful.

You were doomed, you thought, covering your abdomen with one of your hands again. Your unborn son was your only hope. The Reverend Mother had mentioned before that he was out of control. The Harkonnen medics had outdone themselves with their genetic manipulations while helping you to create life. His abilities could interfere with Paul’s.

But it was only an unborn baby with its brain not even yet fully developed. You couldn’t possibly count on him to save you. Right?

“Abomination,” The Reverend Mother muttered to herself.

“Message sent, my Lord,” Gurney announced.

“On what authority was this message sent?” You spoke up again, finally gaining the courage although it was easy to do so when you were still hiding behind Feyd. “I am the Duchess Atreides. The leaders of the Great Houses know that, too. They will not listen to the threats of terrorists!”

“As a servant of the Imperium, you will bow at my feet!” The Emperor snapped. Paul’s behaviour was getting out of control.

“Your feet?! You’ll be lucky to keep your head!” Paul yelled at him and walked up to all of you as he took a contemptuous look at Princess Irulan. “I’ll take the hand of your daughter,” he announced and you swallowed thickly at his plan.

So… He did not want to marry you anymore. Perhaps you wouldn’t be as safe as you had suspected before.

“She will remain safe,” Paul’s voice softened as he spoke. “And we will rule together over The Empire. But you…” he looked at The Emperor again. “You have to answer for my father.”

“Do you know why I killed him?” The Emperor squinted his eyes and despite feeling very detached from your family those past few months, you felt a little sting in your heart at the mention of your father.

You realised that now you were standing by the side of a man who was responsible for his death. What a twisted world you lived in. And what twisted things you had been forced to do to survive.

The Emperor approached Paul now as well, they were facing each other and you had to admit that despite his age, he was a brave man to do that. Everyone claimed he was not in his best shape anymore and that was true but the strength of his mind and spirit was still visible.

“Because he was a man who believed in the rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule,” The Emperor explained. “In other words… your father was a weak man.”

You had this conversation before. With the Baron Harkonnen. Late Baron Harkonnen, you remembered. Now your husband was bearing the title. But yes, a few months earlier, in a dark room, you had this conversation with the Baron. You had agreed with him then. And despite the pain in Paul’s eyes, you had a feeling he was agreeing with this, too.

And Paul agreeing with such a statement could only mean that he no longer wanted to play nice. He had discarded your father’s ways and chose the path of violence.

“You will be defeated and your Empire will be mine,” Paul drawled out through gritted teeth before laying his eyes on you and Feyd. “And the cancer of this Empire that is The Harkonnen dynasty will be erased,” he added. “I will tear your spawn out of her body and take your wife as my concubine,” he told your husband. You felt his muscles tensing.

“The only thing you take, will be your death at the end of my blade,” Feyd warned him and took a step ahead, ignoring the way you were clutching onto his arm, trying to make him stay.

“You don’t even have one on you,” Paul pointed out.

“Then spare me a weapon and stand to fight me like a man,” Feyd dared him.

“Accept mine,” The Emperor offered and you stiffened at the realisation that it was not only the blade he was giving your husband but also the fate of the outcome of this day, the fate of the Empire, the fate of his and his daughter’s life. Feyd nodded and you approached him one last time before the duel.

“Do not fail me,” you pleaded harshly.

“You want these to be the last words you tell your husband before his death?” Feyd teased with a smirk. Fearless as usual; he never feared the end of his life. Not in combat at least. He had told you already that this sort of death was everything he had been wishing for. To die like a warrior.

“No,” you shook your head with a nervous smile. “So make sure they won’t be.”

MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #sansaorgana: Requests #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader #tttw

[skyfallscotland]

intertwining souls (we were never strangers) - ii

I’d tried to leave it well enough alone, tried to resist crossing the distance between the quadrant and the main campus where I knew I’d find her. Tried to stay far away from the infirmary and the healers’ purview where I knew she might linger. I’d tried a lot of things, before I’d realised I didn’t have to.  I can’t change Remi Sorrengail’s history by being here; that Remi Sorrengail is gone. The only thing I can change is this Remi’s future, and right now—listening to her cry quietly, my own heart twisting inexplicably in my chest—changing that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. 

She’s crying, my shadows tell me, her chin tucked down into her chest as she sobs quietly into her pillow, her shoulders shaking with the force of it. It’s gut-wrenching, the emotion contained in that small body and while I had some idea she wouldn’t be the same as she was that night on the flight field, I hadn’t quite been expecting this. It hurts. More than it should. 

I’d only known her—the other, future her—for a few days, just enough time to get to know her; enough time to know I wanted more…and I don’t want to wait. I’ve always been patient, calm, able to weather any storm while my mind plots and plans. Somehow though, this is the exception. I can’t wait. 

She—the other her—told me we’d meet on the parapet a year from now, that her whole world would be tossed upside down soon enough and she’d be forced to enter the Riders Quadrant, a fate she never planned on. She told me there’d be venom and harsh words, but that I’d fall for her—love her at first sight. 

She’d also said that she wouldn’t be the same, that her strength would not be obvious at first and that she’d need me to help her; to build her up, to protect her and hone all her sharp edges. She’d thought maybe I’d forget—that once she disappeared, returned to her own time, whatever signet or dragon magic had landed her here, would cease to exist as well and my memory might be erased.She’d been wrong. 

I’d tried to leave it well enough alone, tried to resist crossing the distance between the quadrant and the main campus where I knew I’d find her. Tried to stay far away from the infirmary and the healers’ purview where I knew she might linger. I’d tried a lot of things, before I’d realised I didn’t have to. 

I can’t change Remi Sorrengail’s history by being here; that Remi Sorrengail is gone. The only thing I can change is this Remi’s future, and right now—listening to her cry quietly, my own heart twisting inexplicably in my chest—changing that doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. 

I close my eyes, leaning my temple against the cold, hard stone of the tower wall as I focus on my signet, letting my shadows stretch out to stroke gently over her hair. She startles a little, her hand whipping up as if to flick away a spider, or a bug. In the darkness, her lip trembles and I can’t resist stroking over it with a wisp of black. 

She jerks away, spooked, her hand swiping at the air and I let my shadows creep around her in their entirety, cradling her. She struggles for a moment, her pulse thrumming wildly, flickering visibly against the delicate skin of her throat before she settles, hugging herself inside the shadows’ embrace. Her tears still fall, her breathing ragged, and I let a wisp slide up to caress her face, tenderly wiping away her distress. 

“H-hello?” She whispers quietly into the dark, no doubt fearful of waking her sister who sleeps on obliviously in the bed on the other side of the room. The shadows curl around her, holding her tight before they slip away, a lone tendril reaching out to encircle her wrist, gliding over her skin in a forward motion; pulling, coaxing her. 

Slowly, she untangles her legs from her blankets and stands, wrapping her comforter around her shoulders like a layer of protection. She follows my shadows as they guide her toward the door. Carefully, with a single glance over her shoulder at her sleeping twin, she unlatches the lock and steps outside, squinting into the darkness. 

She closes the door silently and turns, positioning herself in front of it. “I know you’re there.” She whispers softly, the slight tremor to her voice matching the trembling of her fingers as they clutch the comforter around her. Her eyes narrow, sharpening as they adjust to the moonlight coming through the window, her attention catching on my shadows as they retreat. 

She adjusts herself accordingly, angling her body toward me, a solid obstacle between me—the threat—and the girl in the room behind her, sleeping soundly. She takes one step forward and then another. “What do you want from me, Xaden Riorson?” 

I jolt, surprise no doubt etching my features for a fraction of a second. For a moment, I think maybe she knows, that she has some idea of who I am—what we are to be to each other—but then my brain finally reconnects and I realise it’s not a difficult deduction to come to, there’s only one shadow-wielder alive at the moment and that’s me.

“Have you come to kill us?” She asks quietly, almost crooning. “Do you want revenge against my mother, for everything Navarre did to you? To your family?” She’s moving closer with every step, her tears forgotten in the face of what she perceives to be a threat, a threat against her life and her sister’s.

Slowly, I let my shadows dissipate, revealing my still form leaning against the stone wall of her quarters, a few feet from where she’s standing. As I watch her, she watches me, her eyes trailing over my black leathers, the shadows still curling around my hands and finally, my face, her attention catching on the scar bisecting my brow, the mark Sgaeyl left me.

“Yo—”

“Beautiful.” I murmur, halting her questions as I step in close, slipping a finger beneath her chin to tilt it upwards, the angle drawing her parted lips toward mine so temptingly. Oh how I’ve craved her since she left. Craved her touch, her warmth, the press of her lips against my own. My eyes trail over her now, taking in her natural beauty, her mussed hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders, her wide, wet eyes. I want to kiss her. 

I want to kiss her. So I do. 

I lean down, slotting my lips against hers, my hands sliding down to her hips to haul her close. For a moment she’s frozen, unresponsive in my arms as I swipe my tongue along the seam of her lips, but then some level of instinct kicks in and she relaxes, tilting her head back even further as she opens her mouth to me. 

My heart slams against my ribcage as my hands hold her to me, my thumbs drawing circles on the bare skin of her hips where her sleep shirt has ridden up and at just the thought—the image of her tiny sleep shorts barely covering her thighs—I groan, panting against her mouth. I ache to flick my tongue out, to grasp her lower lip between my teeth. I dip my head, intent on doing just that, only to feel the press of something cold and sharp against my throat. It stings, a sudden burning pain flaring to life in an instant. 

“What the fuck?” There’s a low, guttural growl, the sound escaping her a complete, violent contrast against the soft press of her body against mine, my hands still palming her hips, grasping her to me. The furious sound is however, completely in line with the blade she has pressed to my throat, threatening to pierce my carotid. Clever, deadly, beautiful woman. 

“There you are.” I breathe, leaning in. A trickle of blood runs down my neck. “Hello, love.”

The comforter has fallen to the floor, of no use now it’s not concealing the blade grasped tightly in her hand. Her brow furrows, her eyes flicking over my face, taking in the curve of my lips. I wonder what she sees in my eyes as hers settle there, an unnerving intensity to them. “You just kissed me.” She whispers; like it’s a secret, something horrifying to be hidden between us in the dark. 

“Yes.” 

“You’re not supposed to do that.” 

My lips quirk up a little. “Did you enjoy it, angel?” I croon, watching her shiver as I slide my hands up further to cup her ribcage beneath the thin cotton of her sleep shirt. It’s familiar, the press of my fingers to her skin. Future Remi was not shy about her body. She’d considered me hers, time fluctuations be damned and she’d made that very clear by demanding my hands on her at all times—pressing her side to mine, twining our fingers together, enticing me to curl around her while she slept, her hands holding mine to the skin of her waist, my fingers just brushing the underside of her breasts. Yes, future Remi was anything but shy. 

This Remi however, doesn’t know me yet, doesn’t know the delight, the comfort of our bodies against each other in every possible way, doesn’t know our souls are somehow intertwined. Star-crossed. She holds the blade tighter to my throat. “Start. Talking.” She enunciates, a scowl on her face as I brush a thumb across her skin, too close to the curve of her breast to be accidental.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I laugh quietly, keeping voice low in the deserted corridor, moonlight streaming in from the solitary window.

Her fingers tighten on the blade. “Try me.” 

I decide enough is enough. I let my shadows curl around it, freezing her hand in place and pull the dagger from her immovable fingers. “I’ll take that.” I slide it into an empty sheath at my thigh, watching her scowl deepen, her eyes widening a little. A flicker of fear graces her features, only for a moment before her face smooths over in a mask of calm—but it’s enough. I don’t like that expression. I don’t like that I put it there. 

“Remi.” I coo gently, letting one hand slide up the side of her neck. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Not ever.

She breathes deeply, trying to calm her racing heart. “I don’t know you. Your promises mean nothing to me.” Her gaze falls to the shadows swirling around us, their movement calm and soothing as they slide over her arms.

I lean my head down, slowly bringing my forehead to rest against hers. “Yes, you do.” I murmur knowingly, tapping a single finger against her chest, above her heart. “You know me, here.” Just like somehow I’d known her. That night on the flight field and in every moment after. I’d known her. 

“Look at me.” I command, something soft and pleased curling through my chest as she does so immediately, her eyes meeting mine. “Kiss me.” I make sure it comes out as a request this time, rather than a demand. “Kiss me and you’ll know.”

Her eyes widen slightly, uncertainty and disbelief warring on her face. “There’s no way—”

“Your body knows mine.” I interrupt softly, my fingers tracing patterns on her skin. “All your quiet upset, all your hurt…it disappears in the face of my touch.” I slide a hand up to cup the back of her neck. “Close your eyes, Remi.” I command, my thumb pressing over her carotid as I walk her backwards, pushing insistently until her back is against the wall. “Close your eyes and feel.” 

I watch, silent and resolute, until her eyelids finally flutter, hiding away that beautiful hazel. My thumb brushes gently over her thrumming pulse. “Good girl.” She jolts slightly, her jaw clenching as a flush stains her cheeks red.

“You’re so beautiful.” I croon, lips pressing lightly against the skin just below her ear, the spot I'd quickly learned draws a quiet, pleasured sound from her every time. My breath skates over her ear and I let my thumbs return to brushing soft circles beneath the cotton of her sleep shirt, just barely grazing a nipple. Her breath hitches. 

“It’s just me.” I mouth against her, pressing my lips gently to her jawline. “You’d never let a stranger this close—let someone unknown this near to your throat.” My teeth graze over her artery as the words leave my mouth, my tongue flicking out to soothe her. “Only me.” 

Her chest heaves as she breathes faster, her head tilting back against the stone wall behind her. Her eyelids flutter for a moment and I make a sharp, insistent sound. They quickly close once more, her brow furrowing as she screws her face up, as if willing herself not to peek. That same pleased, dominant part of me rises in my chest again. “Good.” I praise, sliding a hand down to cup the curve of her ass. Her lips part. 

“Ri-Riorson—” She breathes quietly, “I don’t—”

“Xaden.” I interrupt, but don’t give her the chance to correct herself. I press our lips together adamantly, reaching down for her hands to guide them to my neck. Her fingers spasm for a moment, like she’s not sure what to do with them, completely overwhelmed by the feel of my body against hers, my teeth tugging softly at her lower lip as I try to make her feel a fraction of what I do—what I did, within moments of meeting her. 

Finally, they curl inward, gripping the back of my neck as she kisses me in turn. My shoulders fall as I relax, leaning into her as she parts my lips with her tongue, kissing me slowly, explorative. Every nerve in my body lights up as if gravitating toward her and I don’t hesitate to wrap her in my arms, cradling her protectively as I respond in kind. Mine. Mine, mine, mine. The word runs on repeat inside my head. The Remi from before might have been mine too, in a way, but this one…she belongs with me. We’re going to grow together.

“Tell me you feel it.” I beg when she pulls back, gasping for air. Tell me I’m not crazy. That I’m not alone. 

“I don’t understand.” Her breath hitches, like she’s trying not to cry, but as she says it, she drops her head to my chest, curling into me like the only place she’ll ever be safe again is in my arms.

“It’s a long story.” I admit, a soft smile curving my lips, “but my dragon tells me we’re anam cara.” She looks up at me with tear-lined eyes, her gaze questioning. “Our souls are intertwined.” I elaborate with more care and gentleness than I think I’ve ever shown another human being, let alone the child of someone who—no, not going there. Not now. “Every life that we’re born into, we find each other. Again and again.” 

Her lip wobbles. “People say that I only have half a soul.” My brow furrows and I follow the flick of her eyes towards the door down the hall. A quiet laugh escapes me.

“Well that would certainly explain a few things.” I murmur, reaching up to cup the back of her head, pulling her close. I’m not willing to be separated from her just yet. 

She frowns, pulling back obstinately. “What does that mean?” I don’t answer, lips tipping upward in amusement as she tries to hide her annoyance. “Hey, I asked you a question.” She snaps, a fierce glare on her face, “tell me what you mean!” Her voice rises in volume. “We sure as hell aren’t soulmates if you think I’m going to fucking share—”

“Would you keep it down?” I hiss, covering her mouth with my hand. “Amari, you’re so fucking difficult, if I—” I snatch my hand back, gritting my teeth against the pain as I look down to find a perfect half-moon of teeth marks marring my skin. “You bit me? Seriously?” I ask, clenching my jaw. This woman—

“I’d have driven my knee into your balls, but I’m gathering they might be of use to me at some point.” She spits, venomous words every bit as cutting as I’d been warned about. “Wouldn’t want to damage them.” A sarcastic smile tilts her mouth and I want to be angry, I do, but somehow I find myself mirroring her, an identical smile on my face.

A smile. Gods. When was the last time I— “Never. Now hurry up and explain things to her before you ruin it.” I’m startled from my thoughts by Sgaeyl’s voice in my mind. Not one for patience, my girl. Neither is my woman it seems, judging by the look of growing irritation on her face. No wonder the pair of them apparently get along, they’re just as cutting and ruthless as each other. 

“Do you believe me?” I ask quietly, reaching out to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. 

“Not if you think—”

“I’m not interested in your sister.” I explain patiently, “but my dragon’s mate will be, just over a year from now, at your Threshing.” 

She swallows hard. “What?” She croaks. Before another word can leave my mouth, she’s shaking her head. “That’s…my sister’s going to be a scribe.” She denies. “They can’t bond scribes. So your dragon’s mate is just going to have to get over themselves.” 

I choke on a laugh. “I’ll let you tell him that—just over a year from now.” 

She fumes, gritting her teeth together. “I’ll tell him right now. He needs to—” 

I cut her off with a kiss. “No you won’t.” I murmur against her lips. “And are you being obtuse on purpose? I just told you, you time traveled.”

She gapes. “Uh…no. No you didn’t!” The words are hissed, low and quiet in the hallway. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Her hand grips my wrist with enough force to bruise. 

“You time-travelled.”

Remi blinks. “No. I didn’t.” 

I stare at her bemused. “I was there.” 

“And I wasn’t?” She arches a brow. “Logic would dictate that if I travelled back in time, I would approach myself to coach me on what to do.” 

“No.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “I think I would know better than some…some rider, what I would do.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Apparently not.” I contest. “But don’t worry, I came prepared.” I pull a sealed piece of parchment from the interior pocket of my flight jacket, holding it out to her. “You wrote this, for yourself.” For emergencies only. In case I ever needed it. This counts as an emergency, right? “I assume it contains something only you would know.” And as desperate as I am to know what exactly that is, I’ve restrained myself every time my fingers have itched to open it. 

She frowns disbelievingly before cracking the seal, unfolding the missive. Her eyes flit from side to side, squinting in the dim light to read it. Slowly, they grow wider. Her gaze flits between reading each new paragraph and looking up at me. Again and again. Her lips have formed a small ‘o’ by the time she’s done and I tilt my head, reaching out for the letter. “What did she—”

“No!” Remi tears it away from me, folding it into the tiniest square she can, like it’s a knee-jerk reaction. “No, I…I believe you.” What the hell had been in that letter? I watch bemusedly as she shoves it into the waistband of her underwear. 

“That’s not a deterrent.” 

Her cheeks redden. “Shut up.” She snaps, kicking out at me with her foot. “She says you’re an idiot and this is not an emergency.” My eyebrows climb higher. 

“She does, ok.” I make it clear how little I believe that.

“She does!” Remi protests.

“Ok.” I smile slyly. “Why don’t you show me exactly where she said that?” I coax, brushing my hands over her ribs, skating them lower and lower. Before I can reach her waistband she squirms, catching my hands in her own. 

“Stop that.” She steps back a little, pressing my hands into my own chest, retreating as she reaches for the letter once more. She unfolds it slowly, looking from the parchment, to me, and back to the parchment once more, her teeth worrying her lower lip uncertainly. 

“Remi, you don’t have to.” I sigh softly, folding it back over with one hand, pushing it towards her. The expression on her face is achingly vulnerable. 

“I doesn’t exactly paint us in the best light.” She forces out.

“It’s ok.” I reassure her. “I was only joking.” She reads the lie on my face, that much is obvious, but given the lie is for her benefit…slowly, she passes it back toward me. “Are you sure?”

When she nods, she’s looking away, like she can’t bear to watch, to see any expression that might cross my face as I read it.

Xaden Riorson,—

I wonder if Remi recognised her own handwriting.

—you’re an idiot and so, so predictable. It’s like you think I don’t know you at all. This in no way constitutes an emergency. If I didn’t love you so much, I’d leave you to win her over your damn self. Grow a pair, would you? Honestly.

I stare, affronted at the words on the page. What the fuck? How is this helping me? For fuck’s sake. I keep reading, hoping that she’ll have changed her tune in the next few paragraphs, even if my Remi will have already seen it. 

Remi, hi, it’s me. You. Us. 

So this is fucking weird, huh? You didn’t have time travel on your bingo card. I know, because I didn’t and I’m you. 

Since you’re me, you probably aren’t convinced any of this is real. A guy like that, looking like…well him, showing up out of nowhere, claiming to be your future? Yeah, I’d have called bullshit too. Here’s the thing, I never had to, because I won him over. That’s right, I fought tooth and fucking nail for this guy and thanks to an unfortunate incident of time travel (dragon magic, don’t ask) and his indomitable stubbornness, you won’t have to. 

Still not convinced? Yeah, I wouldn’t be either. So let me convince you because that man, he’ll be the best thing to ever happen to you. Well, almost. It’s a tie for first place with a Green Daggertail. You’ll know her when you see her.

Anyway I know it’s hard. I could tell you any number of secrets, any number of things we keep to ourselves, that we’ve never told a soul—where the raunchiest of your books are kept, what really happened to that amphora of King Tauri’s, the events of that night when you were fifteen, when you thought about jumping from the turret—

My eyes flit up to her face in alarm. I force myself to glance back down at the page, swallowing hard. I know instinctively that this is what she never wanted me to read and I force myself not to react, to pretend I’m still reading calmly, while my eyes glaze over and my heart clenches in my chest. Eventually, I manage to decipher words once more. 

—none of that, even being known to few others, would convince you. Our logical mind could—will—wave all that away. We live in a world where information is more valuable than anything else, where there are people who can—and will—read your mind. The only thing I can tell you is this: Xaden Riorson will love you more than anyone on this planet. He’ll protect you, cherish you, and put you above all else. Repeatedly. It might take time, but eventually you’ll be his first priority. 

And you’ll love him that much in return. Listen to your heart, to the way you feel in his arms. Safe. Loved. What you could have is worth fighting for. Take the leap. 

Oh, and Remi? Keep trying to be kinder to your sister. She does love you, I promise.

There’s no signature—it hardly needs one. I take a moment to absorb everything, before finally looking up to where Remi is still facing away from me, focusing obstinately on the wall opposite. “She didn’t want to change things.” I say finally. “She said that’s why she wouldn’t come to you. She wanted things to remain as close to the original timeline as possible, I just stumbled upon her by accident.” 

Finally, she turns to face me. “I don’t think it was.” She offers, her voice hoarse. “Not if what you…and her…have to say is true.” 

“An accident?” I ask gently and she nods. 

“I…I could really use somewhere safe right now.” I’m across the hall in an instant, pulling her to me, tucking her head beneath my chin. 

“You’re mine, anam cara.” I murmur in the dragon-tongue. “You’re safe.” I hold her tight. “Tell me what made you sad—who made you cry.” And I’ll gut them like fish from the Iakobos.

She leans in. “Tell me about us, first. Everything she told you.” 

“Deal.” It’s an easy one to make. “Come on, grab your comforter and come with me. There’s a lake with our names all over it and a dragon who’d really like to meet you.”

#basgiath (remi's version) #brv: intertwining souls #see the masterlist for part one

[somethingclevermahogony]

Happy WBW! What might your setting's civilizations look like in the future? As far in the future as you'd like :)

Thank you for this question!

Oh jeez, this is gonna be the longest post on my blog. You can’t just drop these sorts of questions on me!  My partner and I have done quite a bit of plotting out the centuries after Narul. I'm going to try to condense things down to just the most important events and trends. This will be specifically the stretch of time between 1 A.N. (After Narul) to ~2500 A.N., which roughly marks the start of the Revelations Series.

This, double-spaced, is 33 pages aka 11460 words. Please ignore the weird spacing, I had to mess with stuff in order for Tumblr to let me make a post this big.

Feel free to skim, but don’t feel like you need to read the entire thing. If there is anything you want defined or want me to expand on, please ask! I love world/lorebuilding and I do way too much of it.

Minor spoilers I suppose since this is after Narul’s death?

To be truly accurate this list would need to be far far bigger. These are very simple descriptions most lacking perspective and nuance. Someday I might do expanded timelines on the different eras and regions.

 

Timeline

The Age of the First Scribes

1 A.N.- 97 A.N. Narul Ninefingers passes away on the Island of Euphoi, Korithia. His remains are entombed there. The villagers living there, most of whom are Rechiru immigrants, tell their children stories and legends of his exploits. Many of these come from the so-called “Testaments'', a series of stories recounting the life of Narul and his companions. Over time these stories are distorted as they are rewritten and reorganized, resulting in the creation of different Narolian Traditions (Narul is rendered as Narolos in the Korithian). One of these traditions combines stories of Narul/Narolos, with the religion and mytho-history of the Rechiru. This group followed a monotheistic tradition, one which interpreted the varied deities of their neighbors as multiple aspects of the Creator Deity, Joyuth. Among this small community of the Rechiru, Narul becomes increasingly seen as a servant, herald, or in some cases, child of Joyuth, and the “Testaments' ' adopts a religious aspect. 

3 A.N.- 29 A.N. Matrus, King of the Baalkic City-State of Etrusia, in the aftermath of the Ninamtic War, successfully subjugates all of the Baalkic City-States, and then turns his attention to Korithia, kicking off a vicious rivalry between the new Etrusian Empire and the Korithian City-States.

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4 A.N. The Last High Chieftain of the Western Makurian Federation, Sodati, is killed at the Battle of the Reeds by the leader of a band of Ukaric people, in the aftermath she reinstates Ukaric power in the eastern Palluyadic Peninsula. This new unified Ukaric state is eventually named for this queen (Khorsemis), The Khorsemians.

5 A.N. - 34 A.N. Following the defeat of the Makurians in the south, the rest of the federation is subjected to a number of battles and disasters, ultimately leading to the collapse of the empire. The lands of Kishetal gain independence and develop into two states, Chishetal in the south (including parts of Jezaan) and Ninamalthit in the north (including most of Shabala). On a similar note, The Kingdom of Baban is able to reform though it is quickly conquered by the growing Khorsemian Empire.

14 A.N. Fapacha Remesh, successfully captures the Namutian city of Usuwt, officially marking the greatest extent of the Apunian Empire in 600 years

29 A.N. Bansa the 3rd of the Zumusahati Empire sends out the first expedition of ships across the Niwalian Ocean in 400 years, hoping to rebuild the Musahatic and Zabudic Colonies on the Ulanian Coast. 26 ships set out from the port of Labakatu. The fleet is caught in a tropical storm. It is assumed, after several months, that no one survives, until a single ship returns. On board is a representative of the Goara People, the descendants of the colonists and the Yupu people. While Bansa was unable to see the rebirth of an intercontinental empire, this does mark the return of contact between the Western and Eastern Worlds.

46 A.N. Emperor Huli of Mu adopts the philosophy of the Xianti Sages, Xiatism. The following decades see the construction of hundreds of temples and an increasingly complicated bureaucracy. In time, Xiatism is integrated into the courts of surrounding lands including Kumtai and Runashu.

88 A.N. The Dragon, Telipni, awakens and destroys the city of Duru in the lands of Orudishi. The Dragon is defeated by the Spiritblood, Gutatu. 

162 A.N. The sage, Maklar of Euphoi, creates the Jalpat, a unified version of the Testaments. This version, which becomes the dominant version, describes Narul/Narolos as the son of Joyuth. Maklar is later known as The Scribe of Joyuth/Joth.

171 A.N.- 189 A.N. Ku’lara of the Ru, unites the sea nomads of the southern ocean, forming the largest forestfolk dominated civilization in Kobani’s history.

225 A.N. The Ruins of a Pre-Calamity city are discovered in southern Sinria. Nobility of the southern Sinrian kingdoms dress in imitation of the carvings and images found in the ruins. This trend lasts 200 years.

245 A.N. An earthquake shakes the Chishic city of Labisa, killing thousands, the largest earthquake in the region’s history.

257 A.N. The Volcanic Eruption of Mt. Jukaruti, the largest since the Age of Calamity, causes widespread climatic chaos. The Cholyasi Thalassocracy is destroyed almost instantly. Ash falls as far as Takala and Namut. Tsunamis and earthquakes hammer Eastern Sinria, Kai, and Du. The planet of Kobani as a whole becomes colder and drier for a short period. Tarinia is struck by a drought, which in turn leads to the collapse of the Missishikoa people. In the following centuries, the ruins of the cities became the subject of local legends. Gutatu the Spiritblood is killed in a landslide caused by falling ash.

257 A.N. - 289 A.N. In Baalkes, now the Etrusian Empire, the Etrusian King, Tarquan, uses the dark clouds produced by the eruption as an omen, and starts his invasion of Korithia. The last Korithian city, Minosa, is captured 289 A.N. by Tarquan’s son, Baat.

The Age of the Etrusian and Chishic Empires

289 A.N. Baat declares himself the first Etrusian Emperor. 

289 A.N. Teth, a follower of Joyuth, arrives in Nashawey, bringing with him stories of the Divine Narolos and the Jalpat. Shortly after he founds a temple. In the Apunian, Narolos is rendered Naru.

290 A.N.- 295 A.N. The Giants of Jonluria,, migrate north, leaving their former land, to be claimed by the Nenshit. This allowed for the creation of the Nenshitian Empire, the first of the Polar Empires.

292 A.N. After two decades of civil war and strife, Enlapa is crowned Queen of Namutarbi (Formerly Namut), the first ruler of a unified Namutian people.

295 A.N. The City-States of Pijano are struck by a mysterious illness, possibly of a supernatural nature. Fear of the disease causes a mass migration to the east, allowing for the proliferation of the Rathalaro Forestfolk in the areas once controlled by Pijano.

321 A.N. - 335 A.N. Through marriage, conquest, and diplomacy, Chishetal and Ninamalthit are united into a single empire, its first ruler is Tamul the First. Tamul successfully conquered Ikopesh, bringing the new empire into contact with the Etrusians.

335 A.N. - 379 A.N. Badavarta is born in the village of Apin Ma, in the Kingdom of Hopanyu. Badavarta is raised as a practitioner of Xiatism, but as he grows, creates his own branch, Batara. Over time Batara will replace Xiatism as the dominant faith in most of Southern Macia. Badavarta is killed by a bandit while traveling between cities.

338 A.N. A Serpent attacks the island of Knosh and subsequently Apuna. While the beast is eventually killed by the efforts of more than 30 Sages, the destruction that it leaves behind severely weakens Apuna. Subsequently much of Southern Apuna is reclaimed by the Namutians.

362 A.N. - 369 A.N. Emperor Hutab of Chishetal, invades Apuna, adding it to the Chishic Empire. It is here that the Chishic Empire is introduced to their own folk hero, Narul, as the saintly figure, Naru/Narolos. The Church of Joyuth is incredibly popular among the Chishic soldiers, though they refer to Joyuth as Jutha, and Naru as his original name, Narul.

364 A.N. The Compass is invented in Runashi and quickly spreads from there.

369 A.N. - 394 A.N. In response to the Imperial actions of the Chishic Empire, The Etrusian Emperor, Patoram, funds the creation of a massive navy, the largest in the Green Sea. With this navy, Etrusia begins a campaign of expansion, this period known simply as “The Rise”, saw the conquest of Makora, Knosh, the Clay Women of Kulayu, and Dirsia.

394 A.N. - 441 A.N. Patoram is assassinated while in Dirsia, while it is likely that the actual culprit was one of his own soldiers, blame is placed on the neighboring Elusians. Thus, Patoram’s successor, Tatam, leads an invasion of their territory. Over the next decades and under the leadership of several Etrusian Emperors, much of western Kallistera would be conquered, including Ikenii, Elusia, Jani, Konlunia, and Nislia.

398 A.N. Cement is invented in Etrusian controlled Korithia.

401 A.N. The Acaniruana Mountain Kingdoms develop the Acani Script. This script will become the primary script for economic and historical records across most of Ulania for the next 1300 years. In later legends the development of the scripts is credited to the legendary king, Xalanhuemkultem.

436 A.N. The Historian, Sula, originating from a small city in Khoresmian Empire, decides to trace the journey of Narul, starting in Labisa and traveling around the Green Sea. On the island of Kosheklayu he reports finding strange underground ruins. He returns to Khoresmian, traveling to the capital in order to record his works.

438 A.N. - 510 A.N. The First Instance of the Euphoric Plague appears in the Ubalunan, the capital of the Khoresmian Empire. It will quickly spread, beyond the borders of first the city, and then the country. Between the years 438 and 510, the Euphoric Plague will claim the lives of 1/30th of all mortals(Humans, Hillfolk, Giants, and Forestfolk) living on the planet. The plague and the chaos and instability in its wake will be responsible for the collapse for multiple kingdoms and empires, most notably Khoresmia. 

452 A.N. - 461 A.N. Rumors spread that the Euphoric Plague is the result of magical activities, and are thus blamed on the actions of sages. In Ubalunan, the city’s sages and their families, as well as many hillfolk and forestfolk are gathered and burned alive in the temple of the god Enkankil, approximately 640 people. Similar massacres are carried out in Chishetal, Chishic Apuna, and the Sinrian Kingdoms. In Nashawey, the Patriarch of the Joyuth Church, Teth the Fifth, uses the sudden power vacuum caused by the Execution of the Sages, to supplant rival temples, placing the Church of Joyuth at the head of the religious hierarchy. Not long after, Nashawey has its first Joyuthist ruler.

466 A.N. The First complete circumnavigation of the planet (Since the Calamity) is completed by the Ru navigator, Uk’apapuha. 

476 A.N. The Bon Confederacy invades several neighboring tribes, its warriors armed with weapons of steel, the first time that the metal is used extensively in combat. In time the art of steel making will spread throughout Pyritia and into Macia and Kallistera.

513 A.N. The Matriarchs of the Gungwari, Ninkuduri, Uruninj, Waardugoi, Gumwarnugoi, and Amanwonguri gather for a meeting in response to drought and the rampage of the monstrous, Yotowie. This is the first meeting of its kind in nearly 4,000 years. Each family elects a champion to face the beast. These Six Champions, slay the beast, though only one of the original six champions survive the encounter. Iwagi’dang, the Great Hunter, becomes a cultural hero, her exploits the topic of thousands of stories. It is possible that Iwagi’dang was spirit-blooded.  

521 A.N. The lens is invented in Chishetal.

528 A.N. The Etrusian Emperor, Elzad, invites cultic and religious representatives from various parts of the empire to his palace. Among the representatives are several Joyuthist scholars. Along with several other temples, Elzad permits the creation of a Joyuthist Temple in the capital of Etrusia, the first of its kind in the Etrusian Homeland. Among the Etrusians Narul is called Narulus and Joyuth is Joth.

529 A.N. - 534 A.N. The Chishic King, Akart the 4th of his Line, leads an expedition east, capturing the former lands of the Khoresmian Empire and subjugating many tribes and minor kingdoms. The Chishic Empire reaches its greatest extent. He is stopped at the Sinrian City of Gulapatan by the Spiritblood Balarshata, and is forced to abandon his efforts to conquer the Sinrian Peninsula. Gulapatan will go on to unify much of northern Sinria into the Gulpatic Kingdom, ruling for approximately 135 years before being assassinated by her own son, Mahabajan. 

547 A.N. The Kingdom of Ruk collapses and is broken up amongst its neighboring civilizations.

549 A.N. Haryukato is crowned the first Emperor of both the isles of Jamun and Runashu. Haryukato is the first Jamunese emperor to practice Xiatism. He decrees that all who work within the Palace or in any Imperial Holding, should also be Xiatist.

Approx. 550 A.N. The Xhosi Tribes are partially unified into the Nak and Xhonda Nations

571 A.N. The Etrusian Theologian, Timot, creates his own version of the Jalpat in the Etrusian Language, he calls it, Moknapabum, The Great Word. Along with this, Timot also produces a companion text, Megripabum, The Lesser Word. These are Timot’s own interpretations of the text, included within it is the identification of the 5 Virtues and the 6 Detractions, and the concept of Divine Favor for the Faithful. Though initially separate, these two texts in time are combined, and are jointly referred to as, Moknapabum or more simply, Mopam. 

585 A.N. The descendants of the Balijivuri Empire unite with the remains of the Ship-builders to form the Jatu Kingdom. They build the largest floating structure in the world, the city and temple of Hutanupaakang.

593 A.N. The Last Tree-Tender Dies.

599 A.N. Motium Mokna is the first Etrusian Emperor not born in the Baalkic Islands, He is Makoran. 

609 A.N. The Order of the Hammer is Created in Chishic City of Fifa. It is composed of 45 Joyuthist Warriors, and quickly gains fame for its military prowess. Over the next few centuries the Order will grow substantially, and other organizations made up of those who worship the figure of the Divine Hammer (Narul) form around the Chishic Empire and its periphery.

612 A.N. The first Ru ship reaches the northern ices. There they meet with the giants. On their return journey to the southern hemisphere, 25 giants accompany them. 9 die during the journey, another 3 die shortly after arriving from disease. The remainder successfully establish a small southern colony of giants, the first in 40,000 years.

615 A.N. - 625 A.N. Motium Mokna is Assassinated, the next decade sees the War of Six Emperors. Internal strife within the empire allows for rebellion to grow and several tribes manage to liberate their lands. One of these groups is a particularly war-like group from Western Kallistera, the Janur.

629 A.N. The Huanwa Dynasty of Mu, the oldest and most successful in its history, comes to an end with the Battle of Petals and the Death of the last Huanwa Emperor. Mu is split into Southern and Northern Mu, each with their own Imperial Court.

648 A.N. The Arkodetika, the first Great Epic Poem, of the Post-Narulic era is written in the Korithian City of Kalamanti, by the mysterious author, Kalia. The Poem depicts a Mythologized version of the founding of the Arkodian Empire and later of the Korithian People. This leads to a swelling of Korithian Pride in opposition to Etrusian control. This will build and build until its eventual eruption during the Korithian Rebellion

662 A.N. The Batricids, a group of Kallisterian Warlords claiming descendancy from the Spiritblood Queen, Batricca, attack the Northern Etrusian Colonies. Among the cultures that participate in this are the Jonur. The confederacy of tribes that form in this part of Northern Kallistera are known as Batrochit.

678 A.N. The last Pearl Lord dies, the surviving members of the court flee south to Zudia, where they form a new colony, Sinapalu.

694 A.N. The Second Hall of Oaths in the Chishic city of Chibal is burnt down along with much of the upper city. The exact cause is a mystery but some suspect Forestfolk. Forestfolk suffer under increased scrutiny and discrimination for the next several decades.

700 A.N. The Palace of the Sun is completed in Bhurka, it is the largest man-made stone structure in the world, sometimes called the Mountain Born of Man.

713 A.N. The Hillfolk kingdom of Kyris is founded on the Macurian steppe. It is the largest Hillfolk population since the Calamity. Its capital, also called Kyris, becomes a haven for hillfolk, forestfolk, and humans. At its peak around 821 A.N. the city is home to 84,000 people, the largest in Macuria.

724 A.N. The Spiritblood, Vainmaren, leads his people, including a small population of giants and forestfolk, south from the ice fields into the lands of the Pauri and Quina. These people and their culture are known as Ice People, Shumimi.

731 A.N. The Sage and Scholar Dunh Koy of Kumtai writes The Tree of Spirits which combines elements of sagecraft and Xiatism together. 

754 A.N. The Du Forestfolk of Southern Macia abandon their homeland, adopting a sea-nomad lifestyle. The exact reason for this has been lost to history.

769 A.N. - 1188 A.N. Construction begins on the Satlugulish Canal, the largest single construction project in the history of Tarinia since before the Calamity. The Canal is the result of collaboration between 6 distinct tribal groups, it takes 193 years to complete and the main branch stretches inland from the sea 841 miles, including the various off-shoots and branches, the canal(s) eventually cover an area of approximately 2026 miles. This allows for a boom in trade and connectivity among the Tribes and Nations of Western Tarinia. This marks the Golden Age of Tarinia, and saw the creation of new alphabets, the smelting of iron, and the creation of great desert and forest cities. This era of prosperity was only ended by several catastrophes and the rise of the Mezutal Empire in the South.

788 A.N. Azure Fever kills hundreds of thousands in South-Eastern Macia.

800 A.N. The Maboli Empire is the first Trans-Oceanic Empire since succeeding where its predecessor, the Zumusahati Empire, had failed. Maboli has two capitals, one in Pyritia and one in Ulania.

806 A.N. In reaction to the destruction of a Korithian Temple, the Korithian Rebellion erupts. The entire Etrusian garrison of the city of Bokolis is killed. Similar rebellions breakout among the Korithian Islands. In response the Etrusian Emperor, Nalicam, sends several Etrusian Armies to put down the rebels. In an act of desperation the rebels send an envoy to the court of the Chishic King, Gabru. Gabru agrees to come to the aid of the Korithians and sends several warships and many men to Korithia, sparking the First Etru-Chishic War.

821 A.N. The Battle of Kalmanati sees the largest sea battle in Kobani history up until that point, 722 Warships, 321,000 sailors and warriors. The battle is ultimately a Chishic victory, however the losses were significant enough to force stop the Chishic advance, and ultimately led to their defeat.

845 A.N. The First Etru-Chishic War ends with Victory for Etrusia, though it comes at the cost of weakening influence in other parts of the Empire and Kalmanati is burnt to the ground, whether by the Etrusians or the Chishics is not entirely clear. Ikenii and Dirsia are all but abandoned. The Chishic King Faru is forced to abdicate and is replaced by his brother, Hutbari.

884 A.N. The Kingdom of Akagulu is formed with the crowning of King Chat the First.

914 A.N. The Etrusian Colony of Lembrisia, is invaded by Konic Barbarians, and temporarily lost, most Etrusian inhabitants of the colony flee south to Carsisia.

932 A.N. Lembrisia is recaptured by Emperor Nikalam. Further he conquers new lands from the Konic Tribes, this region is named Nikalasia in his honor.

The Second Etru-Chishic War aka The First Narulian War

955 A.N. The Second Etru-Chishic War breaks out after an Etrusian Diplomat is arrested and executed, accused of the assault and murder of a Joyuthist Priestess. Compared to the first war, this war is massive and widespread, and will ultimately claim the lives of 3.6 million people.

957 A.N. The Kai, a Forestfolk Kingdom in southern Macia, discover gunpowder. This technology is initially limited to artistic endeavors and construction products.

959 A.N. At the Battle of Ikoteska, The Chishic and Etrusian Armies clash, the Battle of Ikoteska bears witness to several firsts. It is at Ikoteska that the Etrusian mounted soldiers, the Rekikitas, are first used in battle against the Chishic, Jalekikun. In addition the battle sees the use of Serpent’s Fire, perhaps the first instance of widespread chemical warfare since the Pre-Calamity Era. While initially developed by Chishic, the technology was quickly adopted by both sides. The weapon is primarily used to break formations and in the siege of fortresses and walled cities. The introduction of the Etrusian Bowgun is also a notable feature of this battle. Sages and their magic play a heavy role in these battles, far greater than in earlier conflicts. Ikoteska is a Chishic Victory, though to the north the Etrusians successfully capture the Chishic city of Umina, and much of its Hinterland. Much of the war will center in this region, while smaller conflicts in Makora, Ikopesh, Knosh, Apuna, and Korithia are also waged. 

963 A.N. The Atahcutec Empire falls to corruption and disease

967 A.N. Batara spreads to Sinria and the Southern Macian Islands and parts of the Pyritian Coast.

971 A.N. The heads of both the Etrusian Jothist Church and the Chishic/Apunian Joyuthist Churches declare the war to be holy, interested in both the defense of both Churches but also in the capture (or defense) of the Island of Euphoi, the resting place of Narul. The Order of the Hammer led by Unma the Galent, leads an attack on the island, successfully capturing it for Chishetal along with much of southern Korithia. At approximately the same time the city of Umina is successfully recaptured by the Chishic King, though not before much of the city is destroyed and most of its population killed. 

981 A.N. Construction of the Temple of the Six Winds is completed in Akagulu.

984 A.N. A Group of Larsian, Janic, Ikopeshi, and Konic mercenaries, alongside a small Chishic Army, lead by the Chishic War-Hero, Haman the Ordained, successfully land in and attack the Etrusian Mainland, even breaching the walls of Etrusia itself. Though this band of attackers is ultimately defeated, this marks the first time that the Great City has been directly attacked since the birth of the Empire. Riots break out in the streets, temples and granaries are raided. The Imperial Guard successfully regains order but only after enacting great violence on the citizenry. 

993 A.N. The Alkugana Confederacy of central Tarinia forms the first democratic government in the Tarinia

995 A.N. The First School of Plantbrewery is opened in Nashawey. It produces the most complete catalog of potions and magical plants in history up to that point.

997 A.N. Repeated defeats and increasing unrest among the Empire force the Etrusians to sue for peace. Chishetal agrees, and in exchange claims ownership over much of the southern Korithian Isles, including Euphoi. The part of Korithia still controlled by Etrusia is renamed Argentia. Chishic Soldiers bring Etrusian religious philosophies back to the east.

The Lessening of Empires

Approx. 1000 A.N. Rebellions and barbarian incursions in multiple parts of the Etrusian Empire ultimately prove too much for the stability of the Etrusian throne. The last Etrusian Emperor is assassinated and replaced with a representative elected body called the Hatakisas.

1014 A.N. Vainmaren is killed while fighting the Sea-Serpent, Hiisto.

1023 A.N. -1067 A.N. A branch of the Janic people migrate to the island of Ikenii, in conflict with the native Docic and Pryenic peoples and the remnants of the Etrusian colony. These people come to be known as Yanes. They settle primarily in the lands once controlled by Etrusia, repopulating abandoned urban centers. In time this region comes to be known as Yanlun.

1035 A.N. The monster, Djikat, emerges from the Babaan mountains and terrorizes much of southern Chishetal, including Jezaan. The monster eventually leaves Chishetal and instead moves northeast into the Macurian Steppe, driving several of the nomadic groups there west and east. The Monster rampages through Kyris, ultimately destroying the city. Centuries of knowledge and art are lost in the destruction.

1036 A.N. The Western Whale-Eaters Mysteriously vanish, this fact is discovered by their Eastern kin, who discover their villages empty. No bodies are ever found. The lands are left barren, a land of superstition and mystery, never to be inhabited again.

1078 A.N. The Hatakisas declares the official religion of the Etrusian Empire is Jothism. In response, the Chishic throne does the same with Joyuthism.

1101 A.N. The Saterai of Macuria, driven west by the monster Djikat, enter Kallistera and battle against native tribes and Etrusians. Still weakened by the war against Chishetal, and several poor harvests, Etrusia struggles to hold back the onslaught. Several tribal groups align themselves with the Saterai, most notably the Batrichit. At the Battle of Teuono, the Northern armies of Etrusia are crushed, this triggers a mass panic among the northern colonies, tens of thousands of Etrusians and Etrusianized northerners flee south to the homeland and coastal areas.

1104 A.N. The Kingdom of Akagulu becomes the Republic of Akagulu.

1106 A.N. The Xiku Tribes, similarly displaced by Djikat, flood into eastern Macia. There they clash with Northern Mu, Tum-Xi, and other regions. The Xiku become the dominate culture in Eastern Macuria.

1121 A.N. Kamyris of the Saterai and the Seven Warlords of the Batrichit unite to form the kingdom of Bochritia, the Kingdom claims to be the successor to the now ancient empire of Batricca. 

1122 A.N. Euphoric Plague re-appears in Apuna, straining Chishic grain production. The Namutarbian King, Akasm, taking advantage of the perceived weakness, leads a campaign against southern Apuna. The successfully capture several cities but in turn bring Euphoric Plague back to their homeland and from there across Pyritia, causing massive casualties

1124 A.N. - 1167 The escaped slave Nalud, escapes from Chishetal and returns to his homeland in Palluyad. He brings Joyuthism with him, there it is combined with several desert traditions, eventually becoming Naludism. In this tradition Narul is seen not as the progeny of Joth (Djosh), but rather as his greatest servant, he is called Narush. Over the course of his life Nalud successfully unites many of the desert nomads and tribes. Over the latter decades of Nalud’s life these tribes are engaged in a multitude of wars with the Chishic Empire, and are successful in breaking Chishic power in the east, successfully capturing much of the empire's former Eastern extent.

1126 A.N. -1287 A.N. Inspired by Bochritia, tribes declare their independence and engage in active rebellion against Etrusia. The most successful are Lembricarsia (Lembris and Carsis), Nichleria( Nichlern), and Larslontia (Larslont). All of these form kingdoms, all at least partially modeled after the old Etrusian Imperial Court.

1138 A.N. More Arctic groups, The Gaedish and the Luduric, mysteriously vanish, leading to yet another mass migration down south into the Forestland. There these groups will intermingle with native tribes and kingdoms, in time forming the Hrotic and Vordic peoples.

1147 A.N. The Yannish King, Hanrud, declares himself king of all of Ikenii and Dirsia. This is met by heavy resistance.

1149 A.N.  Despite pressure from the Xiku, Northern and Southern Mu are reunited under Emperor Guzhi, this marks the beginning of a Munic Golden Age, marked by art and literature and an increased interest and acceptance in sagecraft and forestfolk. Guzhi adopts the forestfolk, Fohu. Fohu in time will become the first non-human, Munic Emperor.

1176 A.N. Argentia rebels, the Etru-Argentian War mark the end of Etrusian dominance in the Green Sea. Kulayu follows suit. The rebel Hastidia becomes famed for painting her skin with the island's red clay, in tribute to the extinct Clay-Women. Chishetal sends ships and soldiers to assist the rebellion, however this proves to be a mistake as Chishetal’s eastern and southern provinces themselves became subject to an increasing number of rebellions and revolutions. 

1188 A.N. Mount Iri erupts, covering much of western Tarinia in toxic ash, clogging the Satlugulish Canal. Entire fields are rendered inedible, herds of domesticated and wild animals die. As a result famine abounds. To make matters worse the eruption disturbs a number of monsters, most notably the serpent, Nuh-Kwa-Tak. The toxin spewing beast is ultimately killed by three hunters, all Forestfolk, though not before causing untold destruction. 

1201 A.N. -1209 A.N. The Etrusian General, Aduatium, attempts a coup, hoping to re-establish the Etrusian Throne. He and his followers storm Etrusia and slaughter much of the Hatakasis. He names himself the Emperor of Etrusia and upon his crowning declares his intention to reconquer Lembrisia. That very same night he is assassinated by the sage, Favaron. What followed was a period of rampant corruption and murder, three attempts to re-establish the Hatakasis and 5 to crown a new Emperor all end in bloody failure. The remaining provinces are abandoned, leading to yet more refugees flooding into the Etrusian Homeland.

1216 A.N. Makora, the last loyal province of the Etrusian Empire, is conquered by a tribe, originating from the northeast called the Uberians.

1224 A.N. Hunaris, King of Nichleria leads an invasion of the Etrusian mainland. He successfully captures Etrusia, burning the palace and much of the city, while sparing the Jothist Church. Henceforth Hunaris calls himself champion of Joth, and even carries a hammer in imitation of Narolos (Narul).The Etrusian Empire Falls.

1245 A.N. The First Palluyadic Empire forms in the East, marked by the creation of the city of Halubad, inspired by the cities of Etrusia, Labisa, and Kyris. The city becomes a center of learning and in particular is known for the quality of its sages. The Empire becomes the first in the world to extend citizenship to all sentient races, humanoid and otherwise, including Kiriki and certain dragons and spirits.

1264 A.N. The Chishic Empire is forced west of the Red Cedar mountains by a coalition of Macurian tribes and the Palluyads.

1271 A.N. The Warrior, Mezumezu founds the city of Nudutichal, capital of the Mezutal empire, in the ruins of the Atahcutec Empire.

The Kallisterian Dark Ages, The Mezutal Golden Age, the Polar Age

1286 A.N. Nichleria is renamed the Holy Kingdom of Nichlern, it claims to be the heir of Etrusia. The King of Nichlern is named protector of Jothism.

1291 A.N. A resurgence of the Euphoric Plague in addition to famine and drought leads to increasing unrest and religious zealotism. The Jothist scholar, Yesonam, blames strife on the actions of sages and forestfolk. While initially unpopular, particularly in the south, this doctrine is readily adopted by northern kingdoms like Nichlern, Bochrit, Yanlun, and Lembris. Many of these lands declare spiritual war against sages and forestfolk.

1297 A.N. Etrusia is named the center of Jothism, and the church of Joth ceded control of the Baalkic islands. All Jothist courts swear an oath to protect the city.

1305 A.N. Sagecraft powered is achieved for the first time by the sage and scholar Januma in the city of Halubad, she successfully flies 700 feet before crashing to her death.

1308 A.N. The Chishic King, Enaki, names himself the voice of Narul on Kobani, in opposition to the Jothist Church. He travels to Euphoi, and according to legend sleeps in the tomb of Narul.

1312 A.N.  The Mezutal Empire builds a fleet of 50 ships, the first such navy in Ulanian History. Using this fleet they settle in southern Tarinia, eventually coming into contact with the remnants of the Canal people. 

1321 A.N. Uberia is united under the Oaken Crown. The King of Uberia, Naruluz, travels to Etrusia and joins in the oath of the Jothist Crowns.

1325 A.N. Vjordic Fishermen land in Tarinia and begin to settle there. They are soon followed by their Hrotic counterparts. They trade with the local population and lead a mostly peaceful existence.

1333 A.N. The 4 Kingdoms of Goguke are invaded by Jamun. The Gogukian Royal family is massacred, and the Gogukian Hall of Names is burnt.

1367 A.N. The Lembrian noble, Renanold, slays the dragon, Taras, supposedly with a spear made from a shard of the hammer of Narul. His legend forms the basis for Kallisterian Knighthood.

1385 A.N. The first Hrotic Raiders land in Ikenii and Larslont and destroy several villages. This marks the beginning of 150 years of such raids.

1405 A.N. Muntatamcuz, Ruler of the Mezutal decrees the construction of a massive bridge crossing the strait which separates Tarinia and Ulania. The project, while ultimately unsuccessful, will facilitate the creation of thirty new cities on the coasts of Tarinia and Ulania. For this reason Muntatamcuz is called The Builder of Cities.

1425 A.N. The Kingdom of Akagalu splits into four kingdoms, each claiming to be the true heir to the original. At the Battle of Four, the three kingdoms met, ultimately leading to a four way stalemate. 

1454 A.N. The Palluyadic Explorer, Nalud, lands in Zudia. He brings back exotic fruit and animals. He returns several years later to create the trading colony of Jalutis.

1477 A.N. The Azuian Nomads of Pyritia unify to form the Azu Kingdom.

1496 A.N. With the blessing of the Patriarch of the Jothist Church, the King’s of Bochrit, Larslont, and Nichlern declare war on the Hrotic and Vjordic Tribes. The War of Bloody Snow will be waged for the next century. It will result in the formation of the kingdoms of Vjordag and Hrotland, both of which adopt Jothism. 

1507 A.N. Gunpowder is used in warfare for the first time during the Fire War, between the Kai and Mu. Ultimately the Mu were repelled from southern Macia, though not before successfully recreating the technology.

1513 A.N. Further Palluyadic colonies are formed throughout the isles of the Sinrian and Lautian Oceans. Palluyadic traders become the primary source of exotic materials and spices to the western world.

1524 A.N. After several years of rebellion, the Kingdom of Caris successfully declares its independence from Lembris.

1538 A.N. The Nomadic Hillfolk of the far northern Macurian Steppe successfully domesticate the huar. 

1541 AN. The Rebel Queen, Bankawe, leads a revolt against the Jamunese occupation of Goguke. Though she died before the realization of her mission, her daughter, also named Bankawe, would be successful in driving the last Jamunese ship from the Peninsula. The Land of Bankuke is thus born.

1565 A.N. The Chishic Joyuthist scholar, Jani, writes a treatise on the nature of Arkodian Bronze. This writing is essential in the development of Chishic Steel, which while lacking in the incredible sharpness and resilience of Arkodian Bronze, is capable of holding and capturing magical energies. The first Chishic Steel weapon is the sword Flame-Eater, gifted to the Chishic King.

1587 A.N. Ricar, brother to King Sebas of Lembris successfully invades Yanlun and declares himself king of the island, though he initially remains subservient to Lembris. Lembrian becomes the language of the court, and many customs, including knighthood, are adopted by Yannish lords.

1590 A.N. The Six Golden Kingdoms of Congasa, a small but ancient collection of Forestfolk, are conquered by the Xianti Theocracy. The Congasian brand of meditation based Xiatism becomes popular in much of eastern Macia. 

1592 A.N. Namut collapses into 23 competing micro-kingdoms. 

1603 A.N. Religious and Philosophical tensions lead to a civil war in the Palluyadic Empire, this leads to the split of the Empire into western and eastern kingdoms, Palluyad and Aruda. Halubad becomes the capital of Palluyad, while Urahun becomes the capital of Aruda. 

1611 A.N. The City-States of Yorungo are conquered and subjugated by the Maboli Empire. Maboli becomes the largest and richest empire in Pyritia. In its Ulanian territories the empire comes into contact with Mezutal.

1614 A.N. Vjordag attempts to invade Shumimi, partially with the aim of introducing Jothism.

1626 A.N. The Ice-Walkers of the Polar Regions join into an alliance with the giants. Together they successfully repel a Hrotish invasion.

1632 A.N. The Ru land on the Southern continent, where they find not only inhospitable conditions but also a race of monstrous beasts, the Uj. The Ru abandon the land, though they will continue to fish the frigid waters. A small group of giants does successfully settle the southern continent, farming penguins and eating large marine mammals.

1647 A.N. Akatotec of the Mezutal, funds the creation of a massive city carved into the side of Mount Lema. This in turn brought the Mezutal into conflict with the traditional owners of the mountain, the Daokipaqa, a particularly powerful Forestfolk population.

1658 A.N. The Lord of Chishic Korithia willingly surrenders to the Kingdom of Argentia, thus reuniting the Korithian Islands.

1661 A.N. The Island of Knosh is invaded by the Argentian King, Erkalos, he builds the city of Erkalo, in time the island will  come to be known as Erkalia.

1679 A.N. King Barnad of Yanlun alongside his knights and lords, and his Dochainain and Prynaean allies leads a rebellion against Lembris, kicking off the 90 Year War.

1685 A.N. The Kingdom of Ngonda, founded by Queen Anifuba, forms from the unification of the Kwi and Hasa peoples. The Kingdom becomes famed for the quality of its plantbrews and physicians. Ngondian physicians are invited as far away as Mu and Ulania.

1699 A.N. In response to Vjordic and Hrotic aggression, the Pact of Blue Waters is formed by the Inkul Tribes (Forestfolk), Chukakic Tribes, Ice-Walkers, Yevnuk, and Giants. Among the Jothist kingdoms of the south, this new polar alliance is known as the Heathen Empire. Sometimes this is referred to as the Second Alliance in reference to the first such alliance between the Giants and the Ice-Walkers.

1702 A.N. The Kimersian Princes successfully conquer the Unartic Tribes. They are the dominant force in the Kimersian Sea.

1711 A.N. The Battle of Doren between the Yannish and Lembrian ends in victory for the Yanes. 

1719 A.N. - 1724 A.N. Driven by the stories of wealth from the Pyritian and Ulanian Connection,The Uberian explorer, Penetoz Tarano sails west to establish colonies with 4 ships. One of Tarano’s ships is sunk during the storm, another is consumed by a serpent. The last two ships land in the territory of the Inawari Tribes. By chance they had arrived at the same time as a Metuzalan delegation. Enamored by the opulence and beauty of the Metuzalan’s Tarano broke the rules of hospitality by attempting to kidnap one of these strangers to be brought back to Uberia. The response from the Metuzalan’s and their Inawari hosts was immediate. Tarano himself was killed, alongside most of his crew. One ship was destroyed entirely while the other barely escaped. Low on supplies, the surviving crew resorted to cannibalism. Of the 356 men who had left Uberia, 27 returned. 

1722 A.N. -1788 The Jothist Church of Etrusia constructs the Academy of Nima, which functions as both a University and Church, the largest in all of Jothdom. The construction inspires the popularity of new art styles and architectural traditions. The Academy becomes renowned as a creator and depository of the written word. Etrusia becomes known as the City of Priests and Poets. The completion of the Academy is traditionally considered to be the end of the Kallisterian Dark Ages.

The Makurian/Xiku Golden Age and the Age of Poets

1724 A.N. The Kingdom of Palluyad receives its first loss in battle against the Chishic Empire at the Battle of Flaming Cedars. Chishic officers use magical weapons on mass for the first time in place of sages.

1735 A.N. Behtuge is born in a small Xiku village.

1760 - 1763 Behtuge at just the age of 25, unites the tribes of the Xiku, through war, marriage, and diplomacy. 

1764 A.N. - 1782 A.N. The Jushi City-States, parts of Northern Mu, Xir, and other parts of Eastern and Central Macia are conquered by the Xiku.

1767 A.N. The Nichlernian Theologian Balo, condemns the Etrusian Church, citing an inability to address perceived heathenism and heretics. Balic Jothism gains increasing popularity among parts of Nichlern and Bochrit.

1770 A.N. The Pale, a race of monstrous forestfolk emerge in abandoned lands of the Whale-Eaters. They descend on nearby villages and even Vjordic cities. They are eventually driven back to wastes but only after causing widespread destruction. 

1772 A.N. The King of Lembris, Janes the Third, signs a peace-treaty with Yannish King, Rodin. The Kingdom of Yanlun is officially founded as an independent entity

1775 A.N. The Mechanized Printing Press is invented in Bochrit. The first printed texts are almost exclusively Jothist religious texts, including the works of Balo.

1779 A.N. Rodin of Yanlun declares himself and his kingdom as followers of Balic Jothism, severing ties with the Etrusian Church.

1787 Behtuge dies, his throne is split between his two eldest daughters, Khochen (West) and Tumalhai (East). 

1789 A.N. Balic Jothist Peasants, with the tacit permission of the local nobility, massacre forestfolk in the Nichlern city of Tomalin.Some of these Forestfolk were themselves Etrusian Jothists. In response the Etrusian Church calls a Holy War against the Balic Heretics. Thousands of warriors and knights from Lembris, Uberia, Carsis, Argentia, and Etrusia travel to Nichlern. Nichlern is joined by its allies Bochrit, Larslont, and Yanlun. The War of Heretics will divide Jothism and will be waged for 50 years.

1793 A.N. 

1800 A.N. Khochen conquers Aruda, while large parts of the city of Urahun are burned, the House of Song, the City’s archives, are spared. Knowledge and art from all parts of both Xiku kingdoms are concentrated in the city. Naludism alongside Macurian Paganism, and Xiantism becomes a dominant faith in much of central Macia.

1804 A.N. The Republic of the Indosi Isles is founded

1808 A.N. Gunpowder weapons are introduced to Kallistera and Pyritia via trade with the Xiku.

1811 A.N. Zudia suffers its worst drought in 800 years, many of the tribes and families are greatly weakened.

1812 A.N. The Etrusian Poet, Rodibat, pens his 1000 Songs. His work is performed across much of the world and is massively influential in the creation of new literature.

1814 A.N. At the Battle of Haraford, the Etrusian and Balic forces clash. The Balic’s use newly constructed gunpowder weapons while the Etrusians come with sages and Chishic made magical weapons. While the Etrusians are ultimately the victors, the casualties are massive. This is the last battle in Kallistera in which magic takes a major role.

1817 A.N. The Mezutal Empire has its civil war. Tarinian Mezutal successful splits from its southern half, becoming the Kingdom of Uzatal.

1823 A.N. The Dragon, Nkad, terrorizes Western Pyritia, temporarily severing contact between Ulania and Pyritia. 

1826 A.N. The Balic Church is officially founded, it forbids the use of sagecraft and explicitly believes spirits and by extension spiritbloods to be demonic in nature. Narul is explicitly depicted as being not a spiritblood. Forestfolk and sages are expelled from these territories, many flooding into Lembris and Uberia.

1833 A.N. Vjordag, Hrotland, and the Pact of Blue Water reach an uneasy peace. Trade begins between them. The Hrotic and Vjordic settlements in Tarinia grow larger.

1839 A.N. The War of Heretics comes to an end with a stalemate. The Balic Church is allowed to exist as a branch of the Etrusian Church, together they are called Western Jothism, in opposition to Eastern Jothism or Joyuthism, practiced in places like Chishetal. Balic clergy join the Etrusian hierarchy and soon are able to implement Balic doctrine, including a complete ban on sagecraft in Western Jothist states, and the expulsion of Forestfolk and most Hillfolk.

1841 A.N. Occupied regions of Mu and the far-eastern Xiku are liberated by the Munic warlord, Fukwazhi. The State of Great Mu is instrumental in the eventual collapse of eastern Xiku.

1852 A.N. Quata, King of Mezutal sails around the southern tip of Ulania, along the journey he meets with the Acaniruanian court and with the Pyritians. His son, Olamechutal accompanies a voyage across the ocean, becoming the first Mezutalite to visit first Pyritia and then Kallistera. Olamechutal never returned to Ulania as he died of fever, however an account of his journey and observations, The Voyage of A Thousand Wings, is among the first widely published non-religious books in Kallisteran history. 

1854 A.N. A cache of Arkodian Bronze  weapons is uncovered in Goguke, it is unclear how they got there. One sword, named Skysplitter, is gifted to the King of Goguke to be passed down as an heir. The rest is melted down and made into shields to be carried by the five most trusted members of the Royal Guard.

1857 A.N. The Road of Gold is completed connecting all the way from Apuna to Mu, allowing for trade across the entire continent of Macia

1861 A.N. Yanlun invades Pryneu, which they refer to as Montlun. The series of battles and invasions called the Montish Wars, are waged for next 200 years, until the eventual subjugation of the last Montish Kingdom. The last king of the Montish is Llawar, said to wield an ax of Arkodian Bronze, seated atop a giant stag; he is slain in battle, though he remains a symbol of Montish and later Duckish resistance.

1865 A.N. The Telescope is independently invented in Etrusia and Chishetal.

1873 A.N. The Sinrian Peninsula is united for the first time since before Narul. The Land of Sinru is ruled by Five Great Queens. The Sinrians successfully repel a Xikic invasion of the north, and to prevent future incursions a massive wall is built south of the mountains, in order to add another barrier to any invading force.

1881 A.N. The first (semi) accurate model of the Kobanic Solar System is produced in the city of Erkalo.

1885 A.N. The Master of Palluyad seeks assistance from their old rivals, Chishetal, in driving away the Xiku. Chishetal agrees, driven by a historic distrust of Macurian populations. The Chishic army, led by Queen Darutma the Magnificent, marches over the Red Cedar Mountains. Together the Chishic and Palluyadic armies defeated the Xiku at Ankula and Urahun. The Chishic army pillaged the city, to the great displeasure of Palluyad, and returned to Chishetal with thousands of works of art and cultural treasures.

1898 A.N.The Last Great Leader of the Xiku is tracked down and killed by rivals, the empire falls apart due to in-fighting and aggression from outside forces.

1901 A.N. A group of the On People of Zudia, land in Mu. They are welcomed into the Munic court, eventually forming the bulk of the Emperor's personal guard.

1924 A.N. The first steam engine, no larger than a small dog, and initially a curiosity, is created in the Namutian city of Oswa by the inventor, Naimina. The technology eventually is spread north to Apuna and from there to the wider world.

1926 A.N. 133 Busira, Daoku, Malu, Jini, Jagi, The Great Cities of the Viat Sea-Kings, Phangui, and Mekan are all united into the Republic of Khwamer. 

The Age of Ships

1927 A.N. - 1935 A.N. Lost for over a century, the accounts of Tarano resurface in Uberia. King Migrab, orders and funds a second expedition, this one is considerably larger than the last and heavily armed with guns and modern weaponry. Four Jothist Theologians accompany them. A fleet of 18 ships sail from Uberia. They eventually land in the home of Okalokee and Yupa peoples. The Colony of Maberia is founded, initially with the tacit approval of the Yupa people. Three ships are sent back to inform Uberia of the formation of the new colony.

1936 A.N. The successful colony by Uberia causes “Exploration Fever” as Yanlun, Lembris, and Larslont all create expeditions of their own with the intention of creating colonies. Seeing this as a threat to their own interests, Vjordag and Hrotland, working together, send supplies to their own settlements.

1937 A.N. Guided by Ru navigators, a Munic ship lands on the western shores of Ulania. They are quickly apprehended by Mezutal officials, but are later released, and sent back to Mu.

1945 A.N. The Mezu-Uberian War is triggered by the burning of a Mezutal temple and murder of its attends by the Jothist fanatic, Heraduz Ta Odilia. The Uberians align themselves with several of Mezutal’s rivals in the region including the Daokipaqa and Uzatal. The Daokipaqa are promised the return of their homeland occupied by the Mezutal. Attacked on nearly all sides, and weakened by corruption and unused to fighting against guns, the Mezutal driven back to capital. Their last line of defense is the Spiritblood, Akalapotchil.

The Age of Colonies

1946 A.N. The First Lembrian Colony is founded in Tarinia, in the lands of the Sepochee, it is called simply, New Lembris. Later that same year the Yanes land to the North in the lands inhabited by the Chanta and create New Yanlun. The Larslontian expedition is stopped and killed by the Vjordic Navy.

1957 A.N. The Hammer War is started when a Bochrit lord kills a Nichlernian lord while bickering over a supposed piece of the Hammer of Narolos. Despite the best efforts of the Etrusian Church to mediate the dispute, the two kingdoms come to blows. Ultimately 13,000 die. It is later revealed that the fragment was a fake. 

1958 A.N. Akalapotchil is killed by the Daokipaqani Sage, Huruqa. The Mezu-Uberian war comes to an end with the destruction of the Mezutal Empire. Horrified witnesses report the heinous crimes committed by the Uberians during the subsequent period of subjugation.

1965 A.N. The Second Yannish Colony on Tarinia, New Montlun, is founded. 

1979 A.N. A new strain of Euphoric Plague rages through Kallistera and Pyritia. The disease eventually reaches the Yannish and Lembrian Colonies where it is particularly damaging.

1984 A.N. The Chishic explorer, Haman, leads an expedition from Labisa to the North Pole. He dies shortly before reaching the actual pole. All but five of his party die of the cold or are consumed.

1992 A.N. The Yannish king, Lammick the Second, leads an invasion of Dochain, though they are repelled.

1996 A.N. The Mabolian Hillfolk inventor and cartographer, Banaja creates the first semi-complete map of the world, The Banajian Model, based on the accounts of Pallyudic, Yannish, Uberian, Munic, and even Ru’ic accounts of the shape of the world.

1998 A.N. The Yannish author, Karul of Harptun, writes The Voyages of the Noble Narolos an entirely fictionalized account of Narolos (Narul) and his journey to Ikenii and Dirsia. While initially quite popular among the layfolk, Karul is later arrested by Jothist authorities and dies of malnutrition in prison.

2001 A.N. - 2021  A faction of Chishic lords lead a coup against the emperor. The Rebels are armed with Kallisterian guns, the loyalists carry weapons of Chishic steel. Vastly outnumbered, the loyalists barricaded themselves in the city of Labisa. The siege lasts almost 20 years, ending ultimately with a victory by the rebellious lords, after the Chishic King was assassinated by a turncoat. The leader of the lords, Akurd, takes the throne as the new Chishic throne. The first 10 years of his reign will be consumed by putting down loyalist factions in Shabala and Ikopesh.

2002 A.N. The Uberian King, with the support of the Jothist Patriarch, bans the enslavement of any person born in a Jothist nation; this does not include Naludist and Joyuthist peoples. It also did not include Forestfolk. Uberian soldiers begin a campaign of enslaving Ulanian peoples, including the former occupants of Mezutal. To the outrage of the Daokipaqa, not only were they not returned to their homeland, but they are targeted for enslavement. The Daokipaqa join an alliance of several peoples against the Uberians. The conflict between the two sides will continue on for over five centuries.

2012 A.N. The Nichlernian Jothist preacher, Kalen of Daruparg, predicts the coming of a second Calamity. Widespread panic proves in vain, though not before several buildings, including the Church of Daruparg are burnt to the ground. 

2014 A.N. The Kingdom of Palluyad is dissolved into the Three New Kingdoms; Palluya, Baban, and Inad. 

2021 A.N. The 13 Year War is waged between Yanlun and the Alliance of Hrotland, Vjordag, and Larslont. The War is fought both in Kallistera and Tarinia, including against the Tarinian allies of Hrotland and Vjordag.

2024 A.N. The Argentian Scholar, Alanos, creates the first complete history of Kobani, starting with the creation of Arkodai and ending with the Hammer War.

2034 A.N. Pressured by the Jothist Church, Hrotland and Vjordag sue for peace with Yanlun. As part of the Treaty, much of the southern Vjordic/Hrotic territory in Tarinia is handed over to Yanlun. The Yannish holding in Tarinia grows by 320%. Tens of thousands of settlers, traders, and slavers travel to the Yannish colonies to make a new life. Larslont continues to wage war against Yanlun in Kallistera. 

2038 A.N. Yanlun and Lembris adopt the enslavement policy of Uberia. Owning a Tarinian slave and Tarinian antiquities becomes a symbol of status in Yanlun. The Dirsians and the Dochic people become famed for their abolitionist actions, acting as pirates, stopping slave ships heading for Yanlun, Uberia, and Lembris and taking the people aboard back to Dirsia. Similar pirate movements arise closer to Tarinia and Ulania, largely composed of Mabolian’s many under the pay of the throne.

2045 A.N. The First Jothist Jamunese Emperor rules over the Kingdom. The first assassination attempt occurs within days of his coronation.

2057 A.N. Economy bolstered by new acquisitions and the slave trade, the Yannish throne initiates an invasion of Dirsia and Dochain.

2062 A.N. The Republic of Akagulu dissolves. It is replaced by a number of smaller nations, most important of all is the Hillfolk dominated kingdom of Batuna.

2072 A.N. - 2098 A.N. Kimersia expands, The Kimersian Empire now borders Shumimi in the north and Chishetal in the west.

2091 A.N. The first microscope is invented in Chishetal, it allows for the magnification of items by 15x.

2104 A.N. The last king of Dochain surrenders at the Battle of Four Forks. Dochain becomes a Yannish territory, called Duclan, its people are referred to as Duckish or simply Ducks.

2115 A.N. Dirsia is defeated and colonized. The Dirsians are treated harsher than their Duckish cousins. Dirsian “Prisoners” are brought to Yanlun and to the Yannish colonies to work as laborers. 

2129 A.N. Chishetal and Kimersia fight over parts of eastern Shabala, resulting in the Chish-Kimersian War. Many Western Kingdoms send their support to Kimersia, as Chishetal’s control of East-West Trade in the Green Sea is seen as a threat to the economic interests of Jothist countries. 

2140 A.N. The Munic Sage, Nao Tza attempts to reach space using explosives and sagecraft. He builds an iron pod with himself inside of it and launches himself skyward. While ultimately he didn’t survive the attempt, nor did he reach space, his research is influential in the creation of rocket technology, mostly for military purposes.

2151 A.N. The Chish-Kimersian War comes to an end as a stalemate. 

2169 A.N. Nearly a third of Uberian Army in Tarinia is destroyed by the Serpent, Koalipak, temporarily stopping the Uberian Imperial effort in the region. 

2185 A.N. The Pact of the Blue Waters officially dissolves. Giants settle in Yanlun, Vjordag, and Nichlern where they face discrimination.

2194 A.N. - 2231 The Hammer of Joth is invented in Etrusia, a revolving gun capable of firing bullets of Jothic Steel, a variation of Chishic Steel with the added benefit of being capable of harming spirits. Thousands of the guns are purchased by Yanlun, Lembris, and Uberia, and it is used in Tarinia against native peoples and spirits. 

2203 A.N. An Ikopeshi Revolt is violently suppressed by the Chishic Throne. 

2211 A.N. The first functional steam-powered ship is invented in Apuna.

2222 A.N. Khwamer falls and is partially annexed by Mu alongside the Xianti Theocracy. The Munic Empress sends messengers to the Daokipaqa promising aid in exchange for land controlled by the Uberians. The Daokipaqa refuse the offer, still suspicious after their last agreement with a foreign power.

2231 The Hammer of Joth is streamlined, made cheaper and more easily carried. Jothic Guns become the primary weapons of colonizing forces. The slaughter of Forestfolk and Spirits leads to the unification of several Tarinian nations. They follow the mysterious Sister Goddesses. It is not clear if these “Goddesses' ' are human leaders, spiritbloods, or spirits. 

The Age of Rebellion and Tarinian Wars

2245 A.N. The Yannish explorer, Conor Malark, successfully crosses Tarinia and reaches the Tanjian Ocean. Many others follow in his steps, starting small settlements.

2251 A.N. The Jamunese Emperor Shirado, willingly abdicates without an heir, dying shortly after, possibly poisoned. A civil war, The War of the Frogs, between opposing applicants for the throne ensues.

2275 A.N. The Pirate Republic of Indosi forms in opposition to Munic, Palluyic, and Kallisteran Dominance in the region. For a short period (2275 - 2345) 73% of all commerce and trade through the Sinrian and Lautian Oceans go through the hands of or are taxed by Indosi Pirates. Indosi Ships raid as far west as the Pyritian Coast and as far east as the coast of Tarinia. In many cases they are joined by the Ru.

2280 A.N. The Knights of Narolos are founded. Armed with guns and weapons of Jothic Steel, their described purpose is to kill monsters. However, in practice what is included under the moniker of “monster” is rather broad. The Knights stalk the Tarinian frontiers, Pyritia, and the Polar North, killing monsters, spirits, Spiritbloods, and forestfolk. They are particularly hostile towards Spiritbloods. Of the 23 Spiritbloods living on the planet before 2280, only 9 will still be alive by 2330.

2292 A.N. The Munic General, Daori, Lands in Zudia and almost immediately clashes with several local groups, marking the beginning of Munic imperialism in the region. The Zudian groups in the south unite into the Uruninjic Confederation, to oppose Munic efforts to expand further.

2293 A.N. The War of the Frogs comes to an end

2300 A.N. Followers of the Dirsian Independence Movement attack the Yannish capital, successfully killing the Yannish Crown Prince. The response by Yanlun is cruel and long lasting, thousands of Dirsians or “Dirsh '' are killed, starved, or kidnapped. Rather than stopping revolutionary thoughts however, it fans them. The revolutionaries continue to work in the shadows, attacking and undermining Yannish efforts on the island. Similar rebel groups form in Duclun and Montlun.

2311 A.N. The Museum of Magic and Heathenism is opened in Yanlun alongside the Yannish Academy of Sciences in celebration of the Treaty of Salisbud signed between Yanlun and Larslont.

2324 A.N. Electrical wiring and the first battery is invented by the Erkalian Inventor, Khasmus.

2337 A.N. The Kingdom of Ngonda adopts a democratic government, the Monarch maintains a symbolic function. Several other Pyritian kingdoms follow. Universities in Ngonda, Namut, Chishic-Apuna, and Maboli grow substantially.

2342 A.N. The first captive dragon is born at Etrusian Nima Academy.

2359 A.N. Inspired by the Satagulish Canal, The Hrotic and Yannish governments of Tarinia work together to begin work on a massive canal meant to cross the entirety of the continent

2366 A.N. The First Hot Air-Balloon is invented and flown in Larslont.

2371 A.N. At the Battle of Coral Sands the Gumwarnugo family of Zudia is defeated by Munic Colonists. The Matriarchs of the family are sent back to Mu, marking the first instance of Zudian Enslavement.

2389 A.N. - 2402 A.N. The Lembri-Uberian War is started in response to clashing colonial interests. In time this war expands into the First Tarinian War. Yannish colonists attacked the Lembrian colony of New Lembris, hoping to capture fertile valleys. Yanlun signed a Pact of Alliance with Uberia. Ultimately the Lembrians are expelled from Tarinia, Yanlun taking their former holdings. An agreement is made between Uberia and Yanlun; Tarinia for the Yanes, Ulania for the Uberians. The Lembrian King and his family is murdered by his own soldiers shortly after agreeing to surrender.

2391 A.N. The electric telegram is invented by the Lembrian inventor, Arauld Contar.

2396 A.N. The Kiriki called Rak, is named the heir to the throne of Baban. After the Babanian king’s death, Rak is crowned thus becoming the first non-humanoid sentient individual to lead a primarily human country. The Jothist and Joyuthist Churches both condemn this as sacrilegious. The Knights of Narolos along with the Chishic Order of the Hammer both attempt to invade and kill the new king. While they are ultimately unsuccessful, Kiriki become the targets of extreme violence across Kallimacia. Their population is reduced to a third of its former extent.

2401 A.N. The First Train successfully carries passengers about ¼ mile before breaking down. In the following decades hundreds of miles of tracks will be constructed across much of Kallistera and Tarinia. 

2403 A.N. - 2419 The First Yannish expedition around the world is ultimately successful though very costly. The leader of the expedition, Kan Bavmun, reports many new people and beasts, as well as a previously undocumented landmass far to the north, amongst the sea ice. He reports no signs of civilized life, save for strange ruins. He suggests by the complexity of the architecture that these ruins may have pre-dated the Calamity. This region comes to be called the Wastes. Though taken from a distance, his descriptions point to the most intact ruin of its kind in the world. This discovery kicks off a renewed interest in the Age of Glass and Metal amongst scholars. Though he made plans to return, Kan dies of an unknown disease shortly after his trip. Attempted expeditions are met with disaster. A Lembrian expedition is attacked by pirates, the entirety of the crew killed or taken hostage. Three Yannish expeditions fail, one to mutiny and the other two vanish entirely without explanation. An Etrusian expedition is reportedly destroyed by an unidentified sea-beast, according to the one survivor. In order to avoid more needless death, the Yannish Academy of Sciences declares a 100 year ban on any further expeditions, starting 2419. The Jothist church of Etrusia makes a similar ban on any entities which may seek funding from the Academy of Nima.

2425 A.N. The first wired radio and the telephone are invented by the Chishic inventor, Saru.

2427 A.N. The Palluyidic author, Namuni, writes “The Mutations” which reports to record every observed Forestfolk, Monster, and other magically altered being in the world. It has 2,437 entries. 665 of these entries will be rendered extinct by the time a second edition is published by his great great grandson.

2434 A.N. A new outbreak of the Euphoric Plague rocks Kallimacia. Scientific cures prove ineffective. The Etrusian Jothist priest, Kampidan, seemingly through the power of faith alone is successful in curing an afflicted person of the disease, the first case of a cured individual ever.Thousands flock to the priest. A new branch of Jothism forms around him, Zelatorical Jothism, it focuses on evangelism and extreme dogmatism.

2456 A.N. Zelatorical Jothists open the first “Narolic Academy” a school meant to re-educate Tarinian children with Yannish culture and the Zelatorical conception of Narolos (Narul) and Jothism. This first school pays 3 Yannish Kupers per child brought to the school, the equivalent of three days of work for the average factory worker. Hundreds of Tarinian children are captured, so many that more schools are opened across the Yannish Colonies.

2469 A.N. The Trackless Steam Carriage is invented. Battery powered vehicles will follow soon behind.

2476 A.N. The Namutian historian and scientist, Qarud, tracks the origins of the Euphoric Plague to the Island of Kosheklayu, off the coast of Chishetal. Shortly after reporting these findings at a conference in Etrusia, he is found in his room, dead.

2481 A.N. Following years of protests, Yanlun bans slavery, though only in the mainland, the colonies are exempt. There is no such ban on “ indentured servants.”

2484 A.N. The Jamunese inventor, Ikro Mongowa, and his partner, the Nichlernian, Fradruch Hangel, create  the first wireless radio. It is effective over only 4 miles. The second and third models will more than triple this range.

2486 A.N. The Theory of Planes is created by the Etrusian scientist, Eractom. It suggests that the other mortal worlds may not share the same solar system as Kobani, but rather may exist on separate but connected planes. It is theorized that it might be possible to travel across these planes.

2497 A.N. A representative of the Southern Giant Clan makes the journey to the North Pole, marking the first interaction between the two clans in several centuries.

2503 A.N. The Gulinbarg Radio transmitter, invented by Baff Gulinbarg using Chishic steel components, expands the transmission range of radios by 800%, approximately 114 miles.

2508 A.N. The Coast of Mu is struck by the Great Quake of 2508 and subsequently by several tsunamis. Tens of thousands die. Following this, Zudian slaves, using the chaos, rebel, leading to a confrontation at the Red Dam. The Zudian slaves are massacred, however the story of the revolt spreads across Kobani, the Zudian Rebels becoming symbolic of resistance in places like Ulania, Tarinia, and Dirsia.

2519 A.N. The Ban on Expeditions to the Wastes is lifted. The Yannish explorer, Hal Roost volunteers as the first person to take the journey. He and a crew of twenty set off from Yanlun. They stop in Tarinia and sail through the Mezutalian Strait. They are last seen at a Vjordic settlement on the western Tarinian coast. They are not heard from again and are assumed to be dead or otherwise lost.

2524 A.N. A starving and badly injured figure washes up on a piece of driftwood near the Vjordic town of Huelbar. He claims to be a manservant of Hal Roost, and reports that his master is in fact still alive, trapped in the ruins of an ancient city. Reports of this are sent back to the Yannish Academy. They are initially met with skepticism. Later that same year a Jamunese fishing vessel picks up a radio signal coming from the north. The voice claims to be Hal Roost.

2525 A.N. A second Yannish expedition and now a rescue mission, is officially approved.

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms @roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe @axl-ul, @persnickety-peahen, @surroundedbypearls ,

@kaylinalexanderbooks , @mk-writes-stuff

Behold, what I have been obsessing over for the last week, now I can get back to other tumblr stuff. I have a character intro I need to do.

#testamentsofthegreensea #writeblr #fantasy writing #writing #fantasy #worldbuilding #fantasy world #narul #world building #ask answered #time line #fantasy map

[franeridan]

can't stop thinking about that one post tumblr put on my dash that was like the main difference between luffy and teach is that teach is luffy without a dream..................... i mean it's cool to have our own understanding of the characters and all but how did you erase teach's introduction from your memory that thoroughly

#there's very few characters in op i dislike as much as i dislike teach I'll be honest #i don't like him i don't like his design i don't like his methods or anything he brought to the plot #but i DO find him very interesting ngl #his intro on jaya put him squarely in the same half of the characters with luffy #like luffy he is THE dreamer #at the same time though he's opposite to luffy on every single other thing which i find very interesting in itself #but not the reason why I'm interested in him #he spent decades on wb's ship keeping a low profile just to find the fruit he was looking for #AGES on that ship just for that fruit #and then he found it and his plan was put into motion immediately #that means that he had the whole thing planned out for decades that's low-key insane to me #what if someone else found the op before him? what if he died before he got the fruit? #what if the fruit got eaten by someone outrageously stronger than him and he just had to let it go? there's so much left to chance #but that's not even it the part that REALLY interests me isn't even that #it's how oda has been repeatedly saying that he's interested in history #he would be an archaeologist in a modern setting his past time is studying history #recently he kidnapped pudding you can't tell me it isn't so that he can read the poneglyphs #he wants to know about the void century for sure that's so at odds with the image he projects to me #why is he that interested? does he care about the one piece at all? #i get wanting to pit him against luffy by design but flattening his character is a disservice imho #the man has been devoting his whole life to his dream there's no doubt about that #the real question is what IS his dream

[touchmycoat]

I'm thinking about the Pride & Prejudice AU where obviously SY transmigrates as Jane and SJ is Lizzie and he's like ah, babygirl, you've got protagonist energy written all over you I'll distract the polite smiley dorky Mr. Yue at the ball for you while you nurse your ire for rich handsome rudefuck Mr. Liu, Mr. Yue's good friend, and oh obviously LBH is the soldier that comes to town having ran off with LQG's sister once before and--

suddenly brain utterly convinces itself that Hua Cheng is Lydia, and no he doesn't need to run off with Binghe, but he fully elopes the moment XL shows up and that's that

#SY wifebeams everyone #so the rest of the pride and prejudice plot doesn't exactly work out #also he keeps thinking YQY's his love interest and sure YQY's not NOT interested but #he and SJ has HISTORY okay? #also LMY eloped for reasons and Binghe was helping her cover it up #and didn't tell LQG #so that's a whole misunderstanding as well #oh oh and SJ refuses to entrust SY with anybody but YQY who's the most bearable of the lot #hahaha what if perspective flip it's transmigrator!SJ #also weird reincarnation vibes where wherever SJ came from there's a YQY #they're exes #but also in YQY's memories of his youth there is SJ #they're not the same one to each other but hey there's still a connection #but now he's Angelica-ing it bc he thinks SY likes YQY so he has to make nice with the other boys #anyways I just want HC-Hong Hong'er galloping off with soldier XL on a white horse #'good bye mama i'm off to live a life of sin i HOPE he gets me pregnant'

[sun-marie]

Also also. I don't go here and I may be striking the hornet's nest but the actual audacity of the creators of Final Fantasy XVI not to include people of color by using ye olde "this game takes place in fantasy europe and black people hadn't been invented yet" stupid argument while also centering it's major world building around slavery is soooooooo icky 🤢

#it smacks of 'we don't acknowledge the existence of this traumatized people but we still want to profit off of their pain' #like it's so gross #i didn't play it but I was interested in it so I watched one of those 8-hour supercuts of the cutscenes so I know the basic plot #and before any international peeps come at me for being another american who assumes they're the center of the universe #yes I know people of all races have been enslaved throughout history all over the world #but idk from the way the developers talked about it just seems like a convenient excuse to erase people of color #and not like they were trying to tell some specific story that required their exclusion #anyway Ben Starr deserves the nomination for his performance of Clive and that is the only acknowledgement this game deserves #marie speaks

[miidnighters]

s t a r t e r for @whileurmine | based off this

At first, Hartley wasn't even going to open the door.

After all, she didn't need to to be able to hear the man begging for his ex back next door. Privately, meanly, she chided him for being spineless like this, essentially crawling back to someone who didn't want him on all fours.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when the door next door slammed closed.

A moment of internal debate had Hartley wondering if she really wanted to get in the middle of this, before she sighed and covered the short distance to her own front door. wrenching it open, Hartley took in the appearance of the other (like a sad dog, really).

"Hey-- are you okay?"

#whileurmine #x. starter | hartley | ☾ #i hope you don't mind i jumped off your starter! i didn't want the history between our two muses but still thought it could be a great plot #pls ignore this or tell me to get lost if you want

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread  

Never Been Kissed

adult demi mm romance

a film studies graduate managing his town’s dying drive in theatre is desperate to save it, and tries to convince a reclusive local director to show her lost media film

also his ex crush/best friend is the new social media manger there

#never been kissed #aroaessidhe 2023 reads #ok first i was looking at GR to write my little blurb and it and all the reviews ONLY mention the romance plot none of the old movie subplot #that was the only interesting thing to me but i guess the romance part is more significant #the set up of the romance plot which is all mentioned in the blurb was kinda stupid and unnecessary #like i don’t get the conflict between them at the start. lmao what was the point in the email thing. just to make it immediately awkward? #would the history & suddenly in the same job not do that just as well? #i was fully expecting the other email guy to show up late in the book or something but that was just. never mentioned again #the mc is. pretty infuriating tbh #half the conflict at the start is them not getting a chance to have. conversation because the MC keeps stopping the LI from telling him anyt #thing. either by saying “i don’t want to talk” or just cutting him off with what he assumed he’s gonna say. #even later in the book he keeps cutting him off which still causes problems!!!!! #“he promised we could communicate but was keeping a secret” bitch you never let him tell you anything #alloro people are so annoying. also he’s like an annoying film fan. like not in the misogynistic way but…. #+ he’s come out as gay but feels like something isn’t quite right identifies as queer (idk why he can’t use gay….what’s with people thinking #that asexuality and gayness are mutually exclusive identities). like yay for queer also but?? both are true #overall: sure i guess?? i liked the grumpy old lady. everything else i didn’t care about much #uh there’s also a ‘totem pole’ misuse reference somewhere in there

[husbandhoshi]

title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)

smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.

--

you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.

well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.

for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.

so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.

and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.

(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)

the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.

"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.

there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.

there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.

and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.

you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.

you up? i miss you.

the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.

still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.

yeah. let me send you an uber.

that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.

besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.

--

"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"

this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.

"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.

"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."

"of course not. i...i got busy."

it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)

"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.

"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."

he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.

seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.

"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."

you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.

"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"

"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"

"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."

before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.

"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.

your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.

that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.

his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.

even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.

"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.

one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.

you're sure he's punishing you by now.

"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.

"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.

and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.

"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.

so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.

when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.

"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.

he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.

"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"

you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.

then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.

god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.

"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."

you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.

seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.

you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.

he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.

"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"

meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.

" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."

he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.

"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"

you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.

"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."

the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.

"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."

"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.

"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.

it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.

"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.

"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.

"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.

seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.

"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."

"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"

"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."

this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.

"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."

all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.

it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.

then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.

by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)

you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.

"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"

somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.

seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."

"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.

usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.

but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.

"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."

you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.

"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."

"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."

"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."

"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."

seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.

he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"

"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."

"ok. freak."

while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.

there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.

you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?

you have no time to think about this any further.

"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.

"wanna join me?"

he smiles, ear to ear.

"thought you'd never ask."

--

morning comes slowly.

you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.

last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.

the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.

"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.

"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.

you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.

what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.

your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.

complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.

"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"

"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.

now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.

"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.

"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.

"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."

damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.

seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.

"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."

"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."

it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.

"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."

"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."

"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.

"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."

"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."

"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"

"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."

you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.

his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.

before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.

"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.

"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.

"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."

"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"

"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."

"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."

it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.

his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.

"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.

your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.

seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.

he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.

"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.

it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.

when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.

yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.

"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.

"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"

it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.

"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."

"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."

"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.

"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."

against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.

so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.

"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."

instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.

when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.

in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."

you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.

"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.

"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."

it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.

choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.

#mine #seungcheol #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seventeen smut #scoups smut

[blackholeunderyourbed]

Even though Imogen is such a small part of the show, the bits and pieces we get from her are so telling and make my heart ache for her. The way she stayed in her friend group even when Harry clearly didn't respect her. How even though she's close to Nick, she doesn't listen to his warning about Ben because she's clinging to anyone who makes her feel wanted. The lost and sad but unsurprised look on her face when everyone starts forming their Paris trip groups and she has no one to group with. The way she asks about joining Nick and his friends and is pleasantly shocked when they seem to actually want her there. She's so obviously a girl who's spent a long time if not her whole life feeling undesired and will latch onto affection wherever she can find it as a result, and though that part hurts, my favorite little side plot was her slowly integrating into the main group and seemingly finding real community and connection for the first time. I'm so glad Alice Oseman added her to the show. And admittedly I'm a bit tempted to write a little one-shot fleshing out her history and her becoming part of the group because she's important to me.

#heartstopper #heartstopper tv #heartstopper tv spoiler #imogen heaney #osemanverse #heartstopper season 2

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

#sbg #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon) #aiden clark #ashlyn banner #aidlyn #aiden x ashlyn #im gonna scream #rip my teeth out #idk idk #im just mentally ill about them 🫠 #tw obsessive behavior

[i-cant-sing]

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

-

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

-

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

-

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

-

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

-

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

#yandere baldwin #yandere king baldwin #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x #yandere x darling #yandere #baldwin iv

[viennakarma]

Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”

You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.

You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.

Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.

One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.

“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”

You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.

And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.

You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.

“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.

So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.

“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.

Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.

You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.

The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.

When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.

You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.

But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.

You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.

“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.

“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.

“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.

“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.

“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”

“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”

“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.

“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”

You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.

“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.

“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.

“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”

“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.

“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.

"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.

Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.

Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.

You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.

You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.

Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.

“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”

You paused, your breath hitched.

“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”

You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.

The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.

“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”

You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.

When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.

Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.

“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.

Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.

The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.

Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.

The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.

One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.

“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”

“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.

Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.

“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”

“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.

“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.

Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt. 

“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”

“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.

You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.

“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.

You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.

“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”

“Yes.”

Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.

You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.

“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.

“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.

You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.

“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”

“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”

You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.

The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.

“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.

“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.

“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”

“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”

Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.

The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.

You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.

The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

You all were wrong.

As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.

“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.

You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.

After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.

You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.

But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.

“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”

His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.

“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.

You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.

Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.

“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”

“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.

“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”

“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”

“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.

“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”

The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”

It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.

Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.

“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.

When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.

The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.

“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”

“Thank you for believing in me.”

“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.

You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.

“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”

That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.

As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.

When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.

You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.

That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.

It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.

You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.

You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.

But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.

“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.

Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.

“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.

“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”

Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.

“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.

“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”

The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.

“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.

“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.

“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”

You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.

“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.

You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.

“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.

“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.

“He just wants to apologize.”

“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.

During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.

When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.

“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.

“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.

“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”

“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”

“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.

You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.

Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.

“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.

“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.

“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.

“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.

“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.

“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.

“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.

“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.

“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”

“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”

“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”

“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”

“Shut up.”

“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”

“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.

The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.

“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.

It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.

Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.

You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.

“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.

You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.

“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”

The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.

“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.

He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.

“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.

You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.

Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.

None of you said a word.

When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.

The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.

When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #lestappen #Spotify

[owchie-wowchie]

Describing the plot of each fnaf game in a sentence or so

Fnaf 1: You're telling me the animatronics were leaking blood and mucus and no one knew that's where the bodies were? Fnaf 2: Why is he ourple? Fnaf 3: Mike, setting your dad on fire doesn't replace therapy. Fnaf 4: Wait, putting a child in the mouth of a robot isn't good for them? Fnaf sister location: Sorry son, but how was I to know the murder bots would murder your sister? I only made them. Fnaf pizzeria sim: Casually drops the hardest monologue in human history Fnaf ultimate custom night: Literal hell Fnaf help wanted: Fuck, he's back Fnaf security breach: Wait, Freddy's my dad now? Fnaf SB ruin: Wait, Roxy's my mom now?

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf games

[hannie-dul-set]

the psychology of strawberries — [s.qr].

SYNOPSIS. besides being your friend, kim gyuvin also holds the existence of being the worst matchmaker in history. the last guy he set you up with ended with a permanent ban from the arcade. the one before that caused you to file a restraining order. which is why when he tries to set you up one last time with his best friend, you understandably shut him down.

the problem is— why the fuck didn’t gyuvin tell you that his best friend is actually the prettiest man in the world? the most charming idiot to have graced your mortal existence? maybe if he did, you wouldn’t have to resort to pavlovian tactics and strawberries just to bag him. if he did, then you wouldn’t have to hide the fact that you’re kind of balls-deep in love with his friend.

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, (anti) matchmaking! au, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual secret relationship. romance, humor, fluff, suggestive, older! reader, this is just lovelicky propaganda. sue me. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mentions of sex, making out, making out in public, an almost car crash, stalking (not from any of the leads), erratic behavior (mostly from our lead), ricky in a floral shirt, black haired ricky and bathrobe ricky jumpscare. WORD COUNT. 21k.

TAGLIST. @lovialy @sarang-ae @khaelscafe @jenodreamer @lovelyrickyz @ciaoui @spjhyn @chwesuh-imnida @kgneptun @hanstarrs @dvalitaes @younxii @haesunflower @cyberpunksunwoo @tlnyjoong @bobabunhee @elavin @sassybakaaa @wishfulthnking @lvieee

NOTE. there is evident lack of plot in this. unless you consider thirsting over ricky as plot, then there’s a lot of plot. you’re welcome. feedback and comments are always appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

AT SOME POINT IN YOUR LIFE, THE PROSPECT OF MEETING A NEW GUY STOPPED BEING A POINT OF INTEREST OR ANTICIPATION. It has now become a harbinger of horror, an inevitable car crash simply lying in wait. Gone are the days where you’re looking forward to the first kiss on your porch and doorstep— now, you don’t even care if you share the same hobbies or not, if you click well or not, neither if your personalities match or not.

Your only hope is that they don’t end up being a stalker or a slob or someone with severe anger issues. And there’s only one culprit for this seemingly permanent shift in your psychology.

“I’m not going on another date! At least one that you’re setting up.”

“C’mon!” Gyuvin clings onto your arm, preventing you from leaving the classroom. He’s crouching on the floor. Your face crunches up, looking down at him like he’s a piece of gum stuck on your boot sole. “This will be the last time. Please? I showed him a picture of you and he thinks you’re cute.”

The sole reason why Kim Gyuvin can get away with anchoring you by the arm with his entire body weight, why he can get away with setting you up with douchebag after douchebag, is because he’s a family friend, and you’ve known him for eight whole years. These tantrums are normal, but the sudden growth spurt he had in ninth grade makes him occasionally forget that you’re still two years older than him. You were already walking before he was even born. This bitch thinks he can make you do what he wants.

“Get off! Are you trying to dislocate my shoulder?”

The moment you raise your free arm to a fist, he releases you from his clutches and puts his arms up innocently, still crouched on the floor. You click your tongue with a sneer, brushing down your sleeve. Anyway, does he have amnesia? Has he forgotten how the last blind dates went? 

“Your friend Jaeryeong also thought I was cute,” you start. “Really cute, in fact. To the point where he wouldn’t leave me alone and I had to file a restraining order against him.”

Now, he’s finally looking guilty. Gyuvin clear his throat and jumps back up to his feet, straightening his clothes and not daring to look you in the eye. “He—he had some issues that I wasn’t aware of and I’m sorry for that— but Ricky is different! He’s not some weirdo! I promise you that he’s a good guy and he’s good looking and—”

“You said the same thing about Do Hajun,” you cut him off. “Sure, he was pretty good looking, but he got so mad at a claw machine and started assaulting it in public. I got banned at the Game Plaza, Gyuvin. I’m not allowed there anymore. I was the top scorer at DDR there. I can’t maintain my rank there anymore because the last guy you set me up with had problems with his temper.”

He looks even more guilty now. Your glare softens because it’s not entirely his fault. But this time the guy’s name is Ricky. That sounds like a fuckboy’s name. A fuckboy who probably wears snapbacks and jeans a little too low. You’re not taking any fucking chances.

“Okay,” Gyuvin breathes out. “I understand that I may have made some bad matches—”

“Some.”

“A lot of bad matches,” he corrects, sheepish. “But that’s just because so many people want to date you! If you think about it, it’s your fault for always attracting weirdos! I’m just the connecting bridge and messenger! I’m sick and tired of my friends asking me to set you up with them too!”

“So why the hell are you trying to do it again?!” Man, you’re getting tired. You asked him to meet you in your lecture hall after class because you wanted to check up on his project, but the moment he came in, he tried throwing you into the sharks once again in an instant. 

You dig into your bag for a piece of candy, unwrapping it and popping it into your mouth with an unamused expression as Gyuvin tries his damn best to market his friend to you. “This will be the last one, I promise! Ricky is my best friend and I can assure you that he’s a decent guy. He’s hot. He’s got a car. Didn’t you say before that you wanted a hot boyfriend with a car?”

“If he’s so hot then why are you so desperately trying to sell him off?”

You weren’t born yesterday. Hell, you were born earlier than this matchmaking scammer and he regularly forgets about that. “Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “He’s my best friend, but I need my solo time too! If he gets a girlfriend, then maybe he’ll stop showing up at my apartment every Friday night and—”

“That’s enough.”

You stuff a piece of candy into his mouth, promptly shutting him up. His eyes are wide, shock quickly morphing into a grimace when the flavor finally kicks in. Durian. Serves him fucking right. 

“Go set your friend up with someone else. I called you in here for a different reason, Kim Gyuvin.” Nothing like dropping his full name and reminding him that you’re still his upperclassman as a cold splash of water to the face. Gyuvin flinches, suddenly straightening himself. “How’s your project going? You only have two months left to finish it. I hope you didn’t forget.”

His face tells you that he forgot about it, but not totally. He’s reluctantly chewing on the candy you force-fed him. “I’ve— I’ve already picked out a place. Hadong Country in Gyeongsang. I’m planning on going there next week.”

“Alright, good.” You leave him with a pat on the shoulder. “Tell me once you’ve set the date. You should worry about your term paper instead of mine or your friend’s love life. Getting us to date won’t pull up your GPA, Gyuvin.”

“But—”

“No, that’s enough,” you shut him down. “I’m not dating this Ricky guy. That’s final. Nothing you can do or say will change my mind.”

Famous last words. Little did you know that you’d be eating that very statement by the weekend.

ONE OF THE PRIVILEGES YOU’VE GOTTEN FROM SUCKING UP TO YOUR PROFESSORS SINCE FRESHMAN YEAR IS HAVING FULL LIBERTY OF USING THEIR OFFICE AS A HANG-OUT SPOT. The air-conditioning here is better than the classrooms or students lounge. You can even raid their snack pantry as much as you want— grabbing a handful from the candy bowl, now filled with pink wrappers of some strawberry hard candy— and stuffing them into the small pocket of your bag to restock your portable stash. 

“Does Prof Yoon know you’re the one that keeps vacuuming his candy bowl?” 

The question comes from Hanbin, who’s just as shamelessly making himself a cup of coffee with the faculty’s machine. The both of you are regular freeloaders at the office. A well-earned privilege, you’d like to say.

“He knows,” you reply, snatching a box of pepero for good measure. “He lets me get away with it because I’m his favorite student.”

There’s one more freeloader. Hao is sitting on the cushy sofa set funded by the student’s tuition fees, sharing a conversation with Mrs. Lee, and the two of you join him not long after. “You three are supervising some of the freshmen this year, right?” your professor asks, and her question is met with a set of artificial positive responses. “I guess I can look forward to some of their outputs then,” she leaves with a hearty laugh and a hard pat on Hao’s back. You wince.

“Why is an old lady so strong?” he laments once Mrs. Lee is sure to have returned to her cubicle. Hanbin is feeling and probing around his spine in case it got broken.

“I hear she’s a member at the gym Jiwoong goes to,” you say. “Scary woman. Thank god we’re on her good side.”

Complaining about your professors in hushed voices while being in their office is a rare skill the three of you have mastered over the past two years. The two elicit murmurs of agreement with your statement. “Speaking, how are your kids doing?” asks Hanbin. Kids, referring to the eighteen to nineteen year olds under your care for their term project.

Hao takes your pepero stick offer before grumbling. “I don’t get why we have to supervise the freshmen when he have our own assignments and projects to deal with.”

“Because Mrs. Lee will give us extra points for our class with her if we do,” you remind. “Gyuvin is doing the bare minimum. At least he now has a location settled down.” The project is for their required course in community development. The freshmen are tasked to select a rural area in the country and do a needs-based assessment survey on it. You did the same when you were in your first year. Mrs. Lee is also the head of the university extensions office. You three have theorized that she’s just using this annual assignment to update her data inventory.

“Gunwook is too passionate. He wants to go all the way to freaking Mokpo.”

“At least he sounds hardworking,” you say, disregarding Hanbin’s stress over an inevitable five-hour drive. “Why can’t Gyuvin be the same? All he does is set me up with terrible men and barge into my family dinners.”

You say that, but everyone who knows you knows that Kim Gyuvin, despite being generally annoying, has burrowed a soft spot in your heart. Unlike Hanbin and Hao who missed a 40-point quiz for Mrs. Lee’s class to join a random play dance competition at the plaza (they won), you didn’t really need the extra points merit, so you had no intentions on volunteering to be a supervisor in the first place.

But when you caught whiff of the news that your poor, poor younger friend of eight years still didn’t have a senior-supervisor for the project, you somehow found yourself in front of Mrs. Lee’s office cubicle and signed up at the last moment.

Which is also why you’re up at 5 a.m. in front of Gyuvin’s apartment building on a weekend, no breakfast in the stomach, just to accompany him to Gyeongsang for this god forsaken community development project.

“Morning.”

Gyuvin greets you with a yawn and a heavy ruffle on the top of your head, to which you respond with a side kick to his ass when he walks past you. “You’re late,” you scold him, and though you want to continue berating your dear friend, two more familiar-looking people emerge from his building’s entrance. 

“Oh, this is Taerae and Matthew,” Gyuvin informs you offhandedly. The two give you a mix of polite nods and smiles. You sort of know Taerae because you shared a class with him last semester. Matthew is just the guy you see at the campus coffee shop at least once a week. “They’re going to be my survey assistants. More people means more ground to cover at once.”

“How’d he scam you two into agreeing?” you ask.

“He’s buying me lunch for a week,” Taerae replies.

“I just wanted to go on a road trip,” Mathew says in a tone too bright for five in the morning. 

You let out a huff of air. Your backpack is getting a little heavy on your shoulders, and all you want is to finally reclaim your lost weekend. Meaning, getting on the road as soon as possibly is priority number one. “So, are we commuting?” you ask. “We should get going then.”

“Oh, no,” Gyuvin replies. He’s already noticed your impatience, and has found himself standing behind you, taking your bag off of your bag so that you don’t snap at him for the next statement he’s about to say. “Actually, we’re waiting for one more per—”

A car horn cuts him off. 

“Well, nevermind. He’s here.”

At that moment, a way too expensive looking car drives up to the porch of Gyuvin’s college-level priced apartment building. This is looking way too out of place. Matthew lets out a whistle when the car stops in front of you. “This kid just got his license exchange and the first thing he does is show off,” Taerae snorts. What...what does he mean? Is this your ride? Is this the (at least seventy-thousand-dollar) vehicle that’ll be driving you all the way to the outskirts of Hadong County? 

The variables don’t click, but your surprise doesn’t end there. Because the person that emerges from the expensive looking ass car’s driver’s seat is— by far— the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your twenty-one years of life.

Whoa.

Not even those thick, dark shades can obscure that god-sculpted looking face. They only make his nose bridge look even sharper, and you’re trying your damn best not to stare at those full and cherry-painted lips. Holy shit. Platinum blonde has always looked tacky to you, but now you have to re-evaluate. Oh my god. Kim Gyuvin has a friend that looks like this, and all he’s done is set you up with guys that can’t even fucking compare.

Walking statue of a man closes the car door behind him with a click. “Get in,” he says. Holy mother of god, you’re light-headed. Your brain is fuzzy. You’re about to pass out. 

“Ricky! You’re late! How dare you keep the madam waiting?!” 

Things start happening a little too quickly.

Wait a second—

“Shotgun!” 

That name.

“Fuck off! Let’s play for the seat!” 

Sounds Very.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot! Rock, paper, scissors—”

Very—

“Paper, scissors— shoot!”

—familiar.

“Dammit,” Matthew grumbles in defeat, joining Taerae in the backseat. You stare at the fist you have held out since earlier. Rock. Rick. Ricky. This guy’s name is Ricky. Isn’t that also the name of Gyuvin’s best friend? The best friend he was trying to set you up with? This is Ricky? This absolute god of a fucking man who’s looking at you with an ounce of confusion, still holding your fist up after somehow winning all rounds of rock, paper, scissors with nothing but a rock, is the Ricky you turned down a date with?

You were correct to assume that his name gives off fuckboy vibes. The problem is, he looks like a really, really hot fuckboy who you don’t mind ruining your life in exchange for three months of fun. Shit. You think you just made eye contact with him through his thick-ass sunglasses. He nods a little with a small, awkward smile before disappearing back into the driver’s seat. 

Fuck. He knows. He definitely knows you wrongfully rejected his ass without even meeting him. Gyuvin, that snitching son of a bitch.

“Hey.”

With a heavy grip on his shoulder, you stop the said snitching son of a bitch before he can escape into the backseat. “What?” Gyuvin raises a brow. The audacity of this guy.

“What was your best friend’s name again?”

“Ricky Shen. Shen Quanrui. Shim Cheonye. Pick one.”

“Is that...the same…?”

“Yes, that guy is Ricky.” There’s an impatient honk from the car. You pay no mind, more concerned about the absolute fucking catch you totally drove away, and that regret is seeping through you expression, failing to wiggle out from Gyuvin’s notice. “Why do you ask?” Are you regretting turning down my offer last week? his face seems to say. You want to hit him. Yes, you are fucking regretting it, but there’s no way in hell you’re giving him the satisfaction of knowing.

“It’s just a little awkward,” you say. “Can you switch with me?”

“Matt hyung’s gonna throw a fit if I take your seat,” he simply hums, opening the door to the front seat on your behalf with a courteous bow that drives you further into annoyance. “Now hop in. We’re already behind schedule.”

You’re the bigger person here so you decide against throwing a tantrum. Begrudgingly, you enter the passenger’s seat, trying to ignore aphrodite’s reincarnation sitting right next to you, and prepare yourself for the three-hour drive or torture because you totally screwed over your chance of having him.

“Woohoo! Road trip!”

“We’re here for my project, idiot.”

“Please tone it down, I’m trying to sleep.”

It’s fine, you cross your arms, wiggling uncomfortably on the soft seat. It’s totally fine. None of Gyuvin’s friends have been decent so far. Yes. You shouldn’t judge positively too quickly. Maybe the only thing this one has going for him is his face. Maybe his personality is just as shitty as the last ones and you’ve completely dodged a bullet.

A very pretty bullet. The pretty bullet is looking at you through the rearview mirror. Oh god, why is he looking at you? He’s got his sunglasses down and those eyes are practically staring into your soul.

“Um,” Ricky clears his throat. “You should put on your seatbelt.”

That rasp shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. Fuck. This man is a walking heart hazard. “O—oh, sorry!” You’re stupid. Your brain is fried. You fumble with the dumb seatbelt, forgetting how it works, and mentally swearing at yourself in the process.

“Do you need any help…?”

Fight or flight instincts kick in. You smack away Ricky’s attempt at a helping hand. His eyes are wide in shock. Your eyes are wide in shock. You want to throw yourself out of this vehicle right now. “It’s—it’s fine!” Finally, you manage to put on the seatbelt. Ricky is a mix of confusion and offense when he starts the car, more on confusion, but that’s alright. The aftermath of him pulling a k-drama move and helping you with the seatbelt would have been worse. You would have disintegrated right then and there.

Your only source of comfort is the backpack that you’re hugging for your dear life. The entire ride is excruciatingly awkward because the three boys at the back have fallen asleep— a state you also wish to be in right now, but that’s quite frankly impossible because you’re a million times more conscious about your physical appearance right now with a literal angel next to you. 

He’s not asking why you’re pressed so far up against the door. For safety reasons, you tell yourself. The air around him just subconsciously feels a lot hotter despite the air conditioning literally blowing cold air to your face.

“Would...would you like some?”

But that doesn’t mean you could stomach this awkwardness, either. Two hours have passed and neither of you have said a word to each other. You’re a fistful into your candy stash and it feels rude not to offer anything to him when he’s been driving for so long. 

You have a cautious arm outstretched, a pink wrapper dangling between your thumb and index finger. Ricky peers down for a split second, a rumble from his throat before saying, “N—no, it’s okay.” The candy disappears into the crevices of his car. You dip your head down, trying to feel around for it, and Ricky continues talking. “Um. I mean. You don’t really have to force yourself to get along with me, seonbae. I already know that you don’t really like me.”

At that moment, you snap your head up. “What?”

Maybe you should’ve been more careful because you scare the shit out of Ricky and the car swerves off the lane.

Screech!

“Ah,” he exhales, parking the car at the edge of the road after nearly killing you all. “That was close.” How the three kids in the back are still asleep is beyond you. They’ve got their necks twisted in all the weird places and you’re pretty sure Matthew is drooling.

But the source of your adrenaline right now isn’t the near death experience.

“What do you mean you know that I don’t like you?”

Translation: what exactly did Kim Gyuvin say to this guy?

“You...turned down the blind date Gyu tried setting up,” he says. Well that’s because Gyuvin never showed you a picture of his face! Instead of using useless words to try and convince you to say yes, he should’ve just sent you his instagram and called it a day. “This car ride must be awkward for you, sorry. I’ll try to get to Hadong as soon as possible.”

He’s sweet and polite too! God, you’ve completely screwed it over. You spend the rest of the car ride overthinking and feeling sorry for yourself. The moment you arrive at your destination, you eject yourself from the car instantaneously. “Alright, we’re wasting daylight. Let’s get moving!” you clasp your hands together, hurrying your barely-awake lackeys into the town. 

With five people, the surveys and interviews get done quicker than expected. At one point, while you were surveying a marketplace owner, your attention got inadvertently distracted by spotting Ricky from the corner of your eye helping out an old lady with a cart and you nearly had a meltdown. Again, why didn’t Gyuvin introduce you to him before your impression of his friends got screwed over by Jaeryeong and Hajun and all the fucking rest?

“What a sweet boy,” says the marketplace owner. He is a sweet boy. That sweet and insanely handsome boy could’ve been yours (not guaranteed).

“Hey!” Gyuvin snaps you out of your daze. You look up, crouched underneath the shade of a tree. One of the locals was kind enough to give you a tour of their plum fields in the village, but you’re a little too rattled to actually appreciate the green scenery. “The ahjumma gave us some plums to taste!”

“You’re a bad person,” you suddenly say. Gyuvin’s face distorts in offense.

“Well, if you don’t want any plums, you can just say so, meanie.”

Maybe you are a meanie, but you’re still not over everything today. While the four boys are fucking around from a bit of a distance, you’re still crouched down and absentmindedly petting a stray cat and moping. Matthew says something you can’t hear, and the three burst out laughing— only the three at first, because Ricky looks lost for a second, blinking with a dumb smile, before joining their laughter only a beat late. 

Oh no, he’s cute. Oh god, you’re falling. Oh man, you’re a goner.

“Time to go home!”

It’s around four in the afternoon when you finally finish. You’re all gathered around Ricky’s car again, ready for another grueling drive back to Seoul. “Go sit in the back. I’ll drive this time,” says Taerae to Ricky, and there starts another rock, paper, scissors battle for who will take the front seat.

Unlike earlier where you won without even realizing there was a game, you lose even after praying to all the gods you know.

“Nice!” Matthew cheers, not even giving you a shot of negotiation because he quickly disappears into the car. You’re looking at Gyuvin, painted in shock and disbelief. Before you know it, you’re wedged into the backseat, in between the two men you’d like to be around the least at the moment. 

Yours and Ricky’s shoulders are touching. This is worse than earlier. He looks just as uncomfortable as you are— arms resting on the open windowsill, head uncomfortably craned away from you and giving you a full view of the tattoo trailing down his neck. Something snaps in your brain. This is your nth breakdown of the day.

“Let me in your candy stash.”

Gyuvin gives himself the liberty to zip open the front pocket of your backpack while you’re hugging it in your seat. The sound of you swatting his hand away seems to catch Ricky’s attention, so you give up defending your property and let Gyuvin snatch a handful of the strawberry-flavored sweets from your bag. “This tastes gross,” he says with a grimace. “So artificial. Blegh.”

You suddenly hear a gasp from your left. “How can you say that?” You’re shocked to find out it’s from Ricky. He’s been relatively quiet all this time. Gyuvin sure knows how to get into everyone’s nerves. “Take it back.”

“I’ll take it back if you dye your hair black for a day.”

A harmless fist zooms in front of your face. “Now way.” Ricky is hitting Gyuvin.

“Gross, this is so gross.” Gyuvin is hitting Ricky back.

“So what.”

“I’m telling your mom about this.”

Your existence is forgotten and your breathing space in between these two relatively large men has significantly diminished. Your face is burning. You can’t do this anymore so you clear your throat, causing Ricky— who’s leaned a little too close, fist in the air mid-punch— to suddenly tuck himself back into his side of the car. 

It becomes quiet again when Matthew and Gyuvin slowly doze off to sleep.

Gaze flitting to the front, you notice that Taerae is quite preoccupied with swearing at another car that just overtook yours. You take this as an opportunity.

A slight nudge to his arm, you hold open your palm without looking at Ricky. It’s a handful of the strawberry flavored candy he was so staunchly defending against Gyuvin earlier. He might’ve rejected your offering earlier, but you’re damn bent on ending this day by fixing his impression of you, even if it’s just a miniscule improvement.

He’s got his head trained down, staring at your offering with a face laced with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and uncertainty before a hesitant hand plucks out a single wrapper from the pile. “Thank you,” you hear him say softly, and you don’t miss the tiniest smile playing on his lips when the sweet touches his tongue, poking against the inside of his cheek and you feel somewhat offended because a damn piece of candy can elicit such an expression on his face when you can’t. 

It’s not stiff like the numerous bouts of awkward eye contact you’ve been sharing without end. It’s not forced. It’s not uncomfortable.

It’s an expression that makes you feel all the more regretful because you probably won’t be seeing him ever again after this.

“Did you see that guy?! He honked at me! He fucking honked at me!”

But maybe that’s a good thing. Because maybe then, you’ll be forced to stop lamenting the chance you completely wasted. 

MAYBE YOU SPOKE TO SOON. It’s the afternoon of a Friday, not even a week after your one-day trip to Hadong County. And Fridays are your cheat days to take a dip into your allowance for some well deserved milk tea at a bougie cafe next to your university.

What isn’t part of your usual Wednesdays is the inexplicable, one in a million chance that you’d be bumping into Ricky Shen again.

“Oh.”

You’re about to enter. He’s just about to leave, pushing open the door with one hand and holding a bright pink drink with so much whipped cream which looks particularly out of place against his all-black ensemble. The only common denominator between the both of you is the look of surprise you’re both sharing.

Ricky recovers before you do. He steps aside, giving you space to walk in while holding the door open. How the bare minimum is making you weak in the knees, you have no idea. “Th—thanks,” you give him a smile and walk forward, before putting yourself to a stop and spinning around. “Oh, wait. Have this.”

You dig into your pockets and drop three pieces of strawberry candy onto his hand. You don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle. “Thanks. See you around.” He leaves. You feel like you’re on top of the world.

From now on, you’re gonna stuff all your pockets with strawberry-flavored candy (courtesy of Prof Yoon from the faculty office) until Ricky gets brainwashed that your presence doesn’t bear awkwardness or discomfort, no— you are a good person. Your presence brings with you strawberries and sweetness. That one psych class you took last semester is finally proving itself to be useful. Ricky will fall in love with you through Pavlov and classical conditioning.

Is this ethical? Probably not. Will this work? You don’t bet on it, but his cute smile makes it all fucking worth it.

That is if a miracle happens that you somehow end up seeing more of each other. You sigh, waiting for the buzzer to receive your order. You remember that Ricky is a freshman, meaning you have zero chances of sharing classes with him, and your only mutual friend is Kim Gyuvin. You’d rather kill yourself than give him the satisfaction of knowing that you have a crush on his best friend.

Well, there’s also Matthew and Taerae. After your trip to Hadong, you somehow got added to a group chat with the two of them. “Same age friends have to stick together!” says Matthew. You’re not sure if you’re already at the point of calling them friends, but you are having dinner with them later, so that’s something. But no matter how much you want to gush about your feelings for the light-haired boy, you don’t think you can out yourself to those two just yet.

The buzzer vibrates in your hands. You stand up to get your order, only to be stopped by a familiar face that you’re not quite happy to see.

“I—I didn’t follow you here, I swear!”

Your expression sours. That last time you saw him was approximately three months ago— when you threatened him with a fake restraining order after Gyuvin and Hanbin helped you move into a new apartment.

“Jaeryeong.” You feel your blood pressure rising from the mere utterance of his name. “Is a restraining order not enough for you? Do I have to put you in jail so you can finally learn your fucking lesson?”

He looks rattled. “I heard— I heard from Siyun that the document is fake!”

Well, damn. You click your tongue. You thought it’d work for a little while longer than this. Maybe you should get a real RO next time. “So does that give you the right to keep stalking me, you damn creep?” You’re getting a headache. This guy’s appearance just makes you miss Ricky even more (gentle remember that Ricky probably doesn’t give a shit about you, nor does he think about you as much as you’ve thought about him within the past six days of your acquaintance).

“I really didn’t follow you here! This was just a coincidence!” 

“Sure,” you wrinkle your nose. “Was breaching my privacy and following me all the way to my parents’ place a coincidence too?”

Maybe riling him up is a bad idea, but you’re not exactly the best at interpersonal relationships (case in point, Riky Shen). But this is also a public place, so if he does pull anything dangerous, one of the cafe patrons is likely to take a video which you can use against him. Jaeryeong has his jaw clenched, visibly grated. “Look, I came up to you today to try and clear our misunderstanding, but if you keep on being a little bitch, then—”

“Then what?”

You’re surprised to hear a much welcomed voice from behind you.

“What are you gonna do?”

The last person you expected to swoop in and save you from this clingy freak is your senior who’s been out of reach for months now because he’s dying in post-grad. 

Kim Jiwoong suddenly tucks you behind him, wearing the facade of intimidation to scare off Jaeryeong— which, for some reason, ends up working because he runs off without much of a fight. “I’ll— I’ll talk to you later!” he says before leaving. Jiwoong lets out a sigh and turns around, looking at you with both disappointment and concern.

“You shouldn’t provoke guys like that. Who knows what could’ve happened to you.”

“I could’ve handled it even without you, seonbae,” you tell him. His gaze softens. You give him a bright smile. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

You know that Jiwoong is incapable of getting mad at you. The both of you catch up in the cafe once you’ve finally gotten your drink without any further interruptions. Whatever Gyuvin is to you, that’s who you are to Jiwoong. He was your project supervisor when you were a freshman, randomly assigned by a roulette, and somehow, you two still keep in touch two years later.

The both of you settle on a table inside the cafe. “How are your classes?” he asks. You reply with a bitter grunt, and that’s enough of a response for him to laugh and understand.

“By the way,” you rouse, spinning the remnants of the drink in slow spirals. “Seonbae. You’re close with Gyuvin, right?”

If your memory serves you right, you’ve seen them talking a couple of times with each other before, eliciting your utter confusion before ultimately finding out that apparently, they attended the same local dance studio before along with Hanbin and Hao for a period of time. “Well, sure,” is Jiwoong’s reply. That was just the lead-in question to your actual main question, which is—

“How about...his best friend?” you add. “Are you close with him too?”

You can see it in his face. He’s connecting the dots. You’re fiddling with your drink cup, nervous. The moment things click, Jiwoong unleashes a knowing grin.

“Are you crushing on Ricky?”

Well, damn. He didn’t need to be so blunt about it.

“And—and—and what if I am?” Smooth. Very smooth. You clear your throat, tugging on your collar to let some air in while Jiwoong stirs his americano with the straw, chin resting on his palms, evident amusement playing on his face. “So, anyway. I’m taking that as a yes— you are close with him.”

“Sure,” he hums. You want to sock him in the face.

“Well, is he anything like Gyuvin’s other friends,” you question. “Like Jaeryeong, or Hajun, or that one guy that told me to ‘sit pretty and shut my mouth’ because that’s what a woman ought to do?”

“No, no. Ricky isn’t anything like that,” he replies. “He looks a little intimidating, but he’s a nice kid. I don’t even think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice at anyone.” Ricky does seem pretty soft spoken and it’s hurting your heart. This doesn’t go under Jiwoong’s radar. He laughs at your misery and your shoulders slack. “His only flaw is his overconfidence, I think. Next time you meet him, you should compliment his face.”

No, but confidence is attractive. Overconfidence must mean extra attractive, right? Yes? “Thanks for the tip,” you grunt. “But can you not tell Gyoob that I sort of have a thing for his friend?”

This brings Jiwoong’s brows to a furrow. “Isn’t he hell bent on marrying off Ricky?”

“Yes. Well. There was a situation.” You don’t intend on telling Jiwoong about the said situation for the sake of your pride. He looks curious, but thankfully he doesn’t try to prod. The only thing that matters right now is that Ricky is Jiwoong-approved, and that’s good enough of a reason for you to pursue him under Kim Gyuvin’s nose. “Anyway, please keep this a secret.”

“What’s in it for me?” he asks.

“The continuation of my respect,” you flatly reply. Jiwoong, again, laughs and assures you that his lips are shut and sealed.

SOMEHOW, YOU’RE INVITED TO A BARBECUE DINNER AT MATTHEW’S BACKYARD. How long have you known him? Two weeks. Who else is invited to the dinner? His friends of two years the least. You’re not sure how you ended up here. Maybe you’re more charming than you thought. Maybe that’s why you keep attracting weird men.

But Matthew isn’t weird. He’s a little loud and a little too energetic for you to keep up with sometimes, but he’s nice, he’s polite, and you’d introduce him to your cousin if he’d let you. 

You show up to his front door step with a convenience store bag full of canned beer. You’re still not sure what the occasion is, but alcohol is always a good gift. “You made it!” Matthew greets you with a half-hug, and upon entering the premises of his home, you spot Gyuvin giving you an unabashed look full of judgment while Matt takes your present out of your hands and into the cooler in the backyard.

“Since when were you two so chummy?” Gyuvin asks with narrowed eyes as he leads you to where everyone else is. 

“Scared I might replace you in your friend group, Gyu?” you taunt.

“No. I’m scared of being the middleman again if Matthew hyung falls in love with you,” is his painfully honest answer. The yard is smoky and warm, familiar faces here and there— Hanbin being one of them, who graces you with a look of confused concern upon hearing Gyuvin’s words. “Hyung, you don’t understand my pain. I keep setting her up with my friends, but they’re never good enough for her. At this rate—”

At this rate, you’re gonna be needing a warning whenever Ricky suddenly appears in front of your vision— one of the people you preemptively deemed ‘not good enough for you’ only for it to bite you in the ass.

In fact, he may be too much for you, because for a second there, you had the presupposition that he might be walking up to you. That delusion is quickly evaporated into the barbecue smoke because he’s looking at Hanbin, not you.

“Hyung,” he says. “Woong hyung needs help with the grill.”

“Oh, I’ll be right there.”

In between, Gyuvin has somehow disappeared, leaving you alone with Ricky and the unreasonable amount of feelings you have for him. It’s been a good week since you’ve last seen him. He’s wearing a thick red jacket and that same look of awkwardness whenever you’re around. “Hello,” he greets you softly with a nod.

“Hi,” you do the same. It’s excruciating. It’s painful. There’s a sizzle in the air, music from the stereos, and the loud, rambunctious noises expected from a group of eight, nine boys. Yet it’s everything quiet in between the both of you. 

But after that tense greeting, there’s a shift in his gaze, a change in his posture. He’s clearing his throat, balancing himself on the heels of his feet with tightly pressed lips resembling that of a smile— almost as if he’s expecting something from you.

Oh, you realize. Oh, he’s too cute.

Without much of a thought, you dig into your coat pockets. 

“Hao!” you call out in a hurry, running off to the long picnic table where the rest are all gathered. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy. “There’s still two faces I’m not acquainted with yet. Who’s this?”

While Hao introduces you to Gunwook and Yujin, your eyes flit over to the spot you’d left behind. Ricky is still standing there. He’s staring down, eyes trained on his cupped palms. “Ricky, come carry the cooler!” Taerae yells out for him, snapping him out of his daze. There’s a faint tinge of pink painting his ears when he strides off, fists closed with the same shade painting his knuckles. Your pockets are a lot lighter now. If you were him, you would have quite honestly fallen for yourself. 

Dinner starts. You ask Yujin why he’s friends with a bunch of old men. “They’re obsessed with me,” is his reply, and you can’t debate with that. Not when five of them are suddenly yelling at Jiwoong for saying you should all play some drinking games to heat things up. It gets settled when Yujin and Gunwook are given glasses of apple juice, and the word ‘gorae’ is now being repeatedly thrown over the table.

One thing you’ve noticed is that Ricky is always a beat and half slow. It’s stupid adorable. Gyuvin passes the never-ending whale baton to him and he just continues the beat without saying anything, looking around like a lost cat, before letting out a noise and collapsing against Hanbin the moment he realized he just lost.

That’s it. You can’t take this anymore. He’s pocket-sized. You’re stuffing him inside your pocket. It doesn’t help that his flushed face makes him look exactly like the strawberries he loves much— matching the red of his jacket, and it’s driving you insane.

“You really do have a massive crush on him.”

Jiwoong invades your alone time once things have settled down a bit. You’re in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor right in front of the sliding doors to the backyard. No, you’re not sitting here because it gives you a nice view of Ricky chasing Gyuvin around with his jacket as a makeshift weapon. That’s not true at all. “Say it louder, will you,” you grunt when he takes a seat next to you, hitting the corner of your beer can with his before he takes a swig.

“I don’t have to. Not when you’re already practically outing yourself with your staring.”

You frown. “I’m not that obvious.” You double take. Then bite the inside of your cheek. “Hey. I think I’m screwed.” 

Jiwoong shakes his head with a laugh. “Ricky is cute, isn’t he?”

Case in point, him doing that scrunchy face, gummy smile, when he suddenly bursts out laughing. You nod somberly. All Jiwoong does is make fun of your demise. 

Still, you think you’re being subtle enough. Ricky is slow. He told you this was his strength and weakness when Gyuvin asked you to tag along with them on a shopping trip one time. But for someone who’s usually programmed to be in slow motion, he sure is quick to catch onto things when you don’t want him to.

“Seonbae.”

His voice is soft, unassuming. You’re both standing in front of Gyuvin’s apartment one late Friday afternoon. You’re holding open one of his hands, cupping his knuckles from underneath— something you’d never have anticipated to have the privilege of doing maybe three, four weeks prior— dropping five pieces of candy onto his palm without much of a thought. 

“Yeah?” you hum. 

He closes his hand and stuffs the fistful into his coat pocket, a completely blank and innocent face, before asking— “do you like me?”

Now, this wasn’t in your monthly fucking bingo.

You stifle back a choking noise, completely caught off guard. “H—huh?” Jiwoong was right. His only flaw is his overconfidence. You have no idea how to slip away from this unscathed. “What— what makes you say that?”

Ricky blinks at you. “You always give me snacks.” You’re pretty sure candy doesn’t qualify as snacks, but you digress. “Don’t...don’t they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

Unfortunately for him, you’re swearing by a different psychological tactic. “W—well, I always have a lot of candy with me! For my blood sugar, you know?” you sputter out the first excuse you can rummage from your short-circuiting brain. “And...and after finding out you liked strawberries a lot, it would be rude and selfish not to give you any if I have them, right?” 

Right? Please agree. Please stop asking any more questions. Ricky is pondering over your words, seemingly deep in thought with pursed lips, until those said pretty lips part open to say, “Oh. Oh, I get it.” You don’t know what he gets, but you roll with it. “Then again, it also doesn’t make sense if you like me.”

The fuck does he mean that it doesn’t make sense if you like him? You’d kiss his face right here and now.

“You turned down that date, after all.”

Insult to injury. He doesn’t know that was the biggest regret of your life. You bite down your tongue and exhale sharply. “Ah. Don’t overthink it, Mr. Shim,” you tell him, finally knocking on Gyuvin’s door after standing in front of it for a good ten minutes. “Overthinking causes stress. Stress will give you wrinkles.”

“It’s okay,” he says, turning over the door upon hearing a click. “I’m still handsome when I’m stressed.”

You breathe out a sigh. This is the man you’re down bad for. This is the man you’re helplessly pining for.

“I think you’d be more handsome with black hair.”

Surprisingly, that statement comes from Gyuvin and not from you. He opened the door just at the right moment— an unimpressed look on his face upon seeing his unannounced visitors. “Why have my Friday night invaders tripled?” he laments. Tripled? You don’t ask and let yourself in despite his protests.

“I’m here to check on your term paper,” you inform, kicking off your shoes at the entryway.

“I’m here to play games,” says Ricky, doing the same.

“I’m here to play games too.”

For some reason, Gunwook had the same idea as you two to terrorize Gyuvin’s sacred Friday nights of solitude, but managed to act on it before anyone else. He’s already settled on the floor of the living room like it’s his own, legs outstretched, switch controller in his hands. “Hyung, let’s play!” he calls out to Ricky. Gyuvin reluctantly tells you to sit down before he grabs you two drinks from the kitchen. 

“You know what, I forgot to ask.” Gyuvin settles down two glasses of juice onto the coffee table with a suspicious eye directly zeroed in on you. “Why were you two together outside?”

“Seonbae and I happened to meet each other downstairs,” explains Ricky. Which was true. You did somehow bump into each other at the building lobby, Ricky nearly closing the elevator in front of your face in the process.

“Right. I told you I’m here to check on your paper, and I’ll be off once I do exactly that,” you tell him, mentally thanking Ricky for the save. “You had a month to write so it better be decent. Give me your laptop.”

Gyuvin smacks his tongue, but does as you say anyway, while the other two boys loiter around the floor and fuck around with Gyuvin’s switch that’s connected to the TV. They’re playing a Mario game. You pay them no mind, ignoring the non-human noises they make once Gyuvin reappears with his laptop. He warns you that this is still his first draft, but you didn’t need that premise. The first page isn’t even formatted correctly. You’ve got your work cut out for you.

“Hey, hey, move over! Let me play—”

Again, you pay no mind to the noise. It’s mostly coming from Gunwook and Gyuvin because Ricky is quiet when he’s focused— in this case, focused on hopping over some goombas. He’s got a thin pair of glasses perched on his nose, lips pursed unconsciously into a noot noot, and fuck he’s so cute, and — no, you’re not paying attention to him. You’re paying attention to your junior’s paper. You’re proofreading. Simply proofreading. You highlight some errors here and there, marking some corrections. 

Yet again, you don’t pay attention to the noise Gunwook and Gyuvin are making—

“Ah. I’m killing Gyuvin’s brothers.”

—but Ricky suddenly makes a quiet remark, and you snort very, very loudly in response.

You slap a hand over your mouth. That wasn’t funny. That wasn’t funny at all and the other two didn’t even seem to hear it. “Why are you laughing?” Gyuvin looks at you, offended by the sound you just made. “Did I write something wrong in the analysis? Why are you laughing?”

“N-no, it’s just—” Your throat rips into a cough because it’s not easy to suppress a fit of chortles. Ricky looks so proud of himself, you’re going to cry. You’re near choking and Gyuvin hops onto his feet and makes a beeline for you in a flurry.

“You’re so mean! Give me back my laptop!”

This isn’t a misunderstanding that you intend on clearing up, so you let him run off with his laptop back into his room to revise in private after you’ve disrespected his work. Gunwook stretches up too, saying that he’s off to buy some snacks outside. “Do you want anything?” he asks. Ricky is feeding you his juice and patting your back because you can’t stop coughing. “Okay. Ginger candy. Got it.”

Gunwook has left. Gyuvin is holed up in his room. And the fact that you and Ricky are alone in the living room right now isn’t helping the state of your lungs. “Are...are you okay?” Ricky, the sweet, sweet angel, asks with those giant boba eyes and soft voice. You want to bite down your sleeve and chew it right off.

“I’m—I’m alright.” No, you’re not. You’re sitting way too close on the floor, knees bumping, and the game over screen being reflected on the television right now is a perfect rendition of what’s going on inside your head right now. “Whew. I’m fine. I’m perfectly okay.”

You honestly have no idea how you’ve managed to keep it together these past couple of weeks. You don’t know how you haven’t jumped this guy yet. The video game is forgotten, and Ricky is scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a melon green sweater which, objectively, is an ugly ass color, but Ricky somehow pulls it off and looks extra fucking soft in it and you’re not god’s strongest soldier.

He lets out a soft laugh, notices you staring, and tilts his phone and scoots closer for you to see a dumb Tik Tok video. Your shoulders bump. You make a comment that fails to register to your own ears. “By the way,” he starts. He places his phone face down on the tabletop. Whoa, this is a little dangerous. He shouldn’t be pouring all his attention into you like this. “Are you free this weekend?”

You blink. Your brain is jumping into conclusions. “Why?”

“Well,” he fumbles with the tips of his sweater paws. You’re going to eat him. “My uncle’s resort is opening a new branch, so there’s an opening party. Everyone else is coming, including Gyuvin. It’d be nice if you can come as well.”

“Oh,” you open your mouth. You’re a little surprised. “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t think I’m fit for those kinds of events, you know?”

This is quite a bit of pressure. Ricky tilts his head, failing to understand what you mean for a second, but when he does he exclaims, “oh! Don’t worry. We don’t have to join the formal event. We can just eat dinner and mess around at the beach. The actual party will be boring, anyway.”

“Ah.” He’s an angel. He’s so sweet. It hasn’t even been long since you’ve somehow been absorbed into their tight-knit group. You’re not sure how it even happened.

Well, you were already friends with half of them separately. Gyuvin has been buzzing around you since he was eleven and you were thirteen. Hanbin and Hao have been your academic ride or dies ever since you met them in the first week of classes. Jiwoong has been a force you could lean on the moment he took you under his wing for your first major project in university.

And Ricky— 

“Tell me if you want to come,” he smiles. “So I can reserve a room for you.”

Maybe this was bound to happen eventually.

“I’m done!”

Gyuvin has finally emerged from his room, stomping back to you and Ricky before slamming the laptop on the table before you. “I edited it. No more errors now. Praise me,” he says proudly. You give him a suspicious glance, sliding the device closer to you. “This one’s good, right? Tell me it’s good. Don’t laugh. Laughing isn’t constructive.”

Ricky is curious and pokes his face closer to yours, and you flinch. “You misspelled ‘debilitating,’” he says. You gasp. Ricky, once again, looks so proud of himself. Gyuvin wants to die.

“Give it back—” 

He snatches the laptop once more and starts aggressively typing next to the both of you. At the same time, Gunwook finally returns with a bag of miscellaneous snacks. “Seonbae, here you go,” he tosses a full bag of ginger-honey candy to you, which you now have no use for because you have stopped coughing.

“Thanks,” you gruffly say. When you stuff it into your bag you notice Ricky staring at you. “Do you want some?” you ask. He doesn’t answer your question but says something else entirely.

“You don’t need that anymore.”

Your eyes widen when Ricky snatches the bag of candy from you. He promptly opens it— moving quicker than you’ve ever seen him before, and rips open a piece before tossing it into his mouth. 

You’re in shock. What is he doing?

“Hey, that’s not for you!” Gunwook protests. Ricky responds by simply pelting him with another piece. Gunwook is speechless. Then retaliates by throwing a candy bar from his 7-Eleven bag to Ricky’s chest. It bounces onto his lap. Ricky grabs another piece of candy to flick at Gunwook. They start fighting. Gyuvin notices the fun and abandons his paper to join in. 

This isn’t how you planned your Friday to end up like. Then again, you didn’t plan on developing a crush on your friend’s best friend either, so you can’t really say anything else.

HANBIN HAS BEEN WAITING IN YOUR BUILDING’S PARKING LOT FOR A GOOD TWENTY MINUTES NOW. You’re already late for the event, so might as well make the most of your tardiness. I’m still getting ready, you shoot Hanbin a text. You keep messing up your fucking eyeliner, and there’s no way in hell you’re showing up to that damned, bougie ass event in front of Ricky with assymetrical eyeliner. His are always perfect and you don’t want to lose to that.

“Dude, we might miss the buffet!” 

It’s Matthew yelling at you when the tinted front seat window rolls down as you sprint— heels on, mind you— to the car. “The place is a resort! They’re never running out of food,” you yell back while throwing the backseat open and then throwing yourself inside.

You’re breathing quite heavily. “Are we ready to go?” asks Hanbin, and you shoot him a thumbs up. You’re too busy catching your breath to notice Yujin also co-occupying Hanbin’s car. 

“Noona, how long did it take for you to get ready?” he asks.

“Three hours,” you reply with a grunt. It’s a little hot so you open the windows, letting some air in. You can’t risk your makeup melting. You need to be extra pretty tonight to stand a chance against all the rich people flooding that place.

“Really?” Yujin does the same. “I can’t tell.”

You’re speechless. You hear Hanbin swallow down a giggle. Matthew isn’t even trying. This highschooler just roasted your ass. You need to put him in his place. “Why are you out here on a weekend?” you click your tongue. “You should be using this time to study.”

“I study enough already,” he protests.

“What was the Gyeongbokgung palace used for during the Joseon Dynasty?”

Yujin freezes. “Wow,” he says robotically after a significant pause, just as mechanically turning his head to the window. “The night air is so fresh.” 

You don’t grill him further because Yujin is right— there’s something different about the wind wafting through the atmosphere tonight. You let yourself sink into the carseat, let the breeze cool your cheeks, eyes fluttered close, until you reach your destination. The resort is far off from the city— the seaside, obviously, but you don’t see the shorelane just yet. Only a towering building illuminated with warm flushed lights as the car drives up to the entrance, surrounded by ferns and foliage and an air of complete refinement.

The foyer floor is so shiny that you can see the chandelier reflecting from it. Are you allowed to step on this? Is this legal?

Upon entering the function hall however, your nerves become nothing. You already see a handful of people being completely, strikingly, and obviously out of place. All for different reasons.

You see Gunwook near the live band, somehow holding a conversation with two men that appear to be twice his age. Gyuvin and Jiwoong have comparatively way too much food on their plates as they camp right by the buffet. Hao is currently talking to a security guard while a suspicious looking vase is sticking out of his pocket. The only person that would be blending in well right now would be Taerae— if he wasn’t wearing that bright purple suit ensemble.

Damn. You shouldn’t have been worrying so much about being a fish out of water. These guys are way worse than you.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

But of course. There’s one guy that looks like he’s completely at home. 

Matthew greets Ricky’s arrival with a half-hug, and the other two boys do the same while you respectfully stand and stare. Respectfully. Yes. You pay no mind to that dangerously unbuttoned-button down under than dangerously low-cut blazer. You are the embodiment of peace and serenity and giving him your business as usual smile. “Hey,” you say. “Sorry we’re late.”

When Ricky returns your stiff smile with one of pure ease and kindness, you swoon like a fucking loser. “Yeah,” Yujin inserts. “She was taking so long to fix her face.”

Your smile stiffens further. “I did not take so long, haha, what are you talking about.”

Yujin gives you a look. “You said you took three—”

And there goes your hand over his mouth to shut him up. “Haha. Let’s go eat, Yujinnie. Didn’t you say you were starving?” Yujin muffles something out. You pinch his arm. “Thanks for the invite, Ricky! We’re off to sweep the buffet now!”

“Wait—”

You book it. Well. As fast as you can book it with these damned heels and with a large shoulder bag weighing you down because you’ll be staying here overnight for free. Does the bag match your dress? No, it does not, but you don’t know where your room is and you’re not well enough to talk to Ricky at the moment, so you suck it up and stress-eat at the buffet table with the Yujin you kidnapped. “Why were you so embarrassed, noona?” he innocently asks while stuffing his cheeks with some meat skewers. “You look pretty tonight and it’s all thanks to your hard work.”

Who has been teaching him these backhanded remarks? Who has been negatively influencing this child? You grunt and put a scoop of mashed potatoes on his plate, much to his displeasure, and continue eating your own damned meal.

“Hey, can you take a photo of me?”

The moment you’re done with your not so pleasant meal, you’re skewed away by Matthew who wishes to hire you as his photographer. After that barbecue dinner last time, Matthew swore that you take the best photos of him and his entire IG feed for the past month is credited to you. 

You look at him, displeased because you’re not wearing the appropriate attire to lay on the floor to ensure the best angles. “Go stand by the window.” Still, you take his phone from him and make do with what you can. “What’s your password again?”

“Hao hyung’s birthday.”

“Got it.”

Now, stretching your legs and getting into various lunging positions aren’t easy to do when you’re wearing a long and silky dress. But you are a woman of commitment, and your bag is weighing you further to the ground as you take a low-angle shot of Matthew. “Okay, now hold your necktie. Now look away— perfect. That’s it. Next one.” When you try to get up, gravity decides that it hates you. You wobble on the stilts of your shoes, nearly stumbling back, but you feel someone grab onto your arm and pull you up before your ass kisses the ground.

“Whoa, please be careful.”

It’s Ricky. Of course, it’s him. When you look up, he’s got his eyebrows knitted together out of concern, strands of light wavy hair perfectly falling over said eyebrows and your breath hitches in your throat a little.

He’s got his other hand held out, and he’s probably expecting you to take it to balance yourself to your feet, but you refuse to be a predictable woman.

Instead, you give him Matthew’s phone and help yourself up. “Thanks. I’m fine. Just slipped a little.” You have no idea why you’re acting coy right now. Maybe it’s because he’s being a little less cute tonight, being a little more dangerous instead— flinching the moment you feel his feathery touch on your shoulder as he removes the weight of your bag from your person, before passing it to an attendant that he calls over with a single look.

“Can you bring this to Room 207? Thank you.”

No, no, no, this is too much. This is too much for you. Why is he trying to be smooth? Why is he trying to swoop you off your feet without taking any responsibility?

“Hyung, I’ll take your photos instead,” he says to Matthew, who’s been watching the spectacle unfold and you pray to god that your unsubtle thirsting wasn’t too noticeable. Matthew doesn’t say anything about it, though. You assume you’re in the safe zone because all he’s doing is complaining when Ricky takes way too zoomed in photos of his face. “This is a new trend. Just trust me.”

“Sure? Okay, go on.”

You take this as an opportunity to escape, only to be called by Gyuvin back to the buffet table because, “have you tried their gambas?! This shit is fire!”

When an old guy took the podium, you all took this as your cue to exit— scattered off either to the beach, bar, or your Ricky-sponsored rooms. You have an entire room for yourself because there’s no way in hell you’re sharing a room with any of those stinky boys. Your exhaustion is aching for a shower, and so you grant its request, and by the time you’re done freshening up and changing into a more comfortable set of clothing, you receive a text from Hanbin that they’re all gathered at the beach.

“Ah. The wind is cold.”

Wearing a thick jacket out was the right choice indeed. You stuff your hands into your pockets for warmth, feet sinking into the sand as you watch the mess before you. They’re all either running around, drawing things on the ground, or lounging on a picnic blanket under the starlit horizon. “Sit,” says Jiwoong, tapping the empty spot next to him, and you oblige with a yawn. “It’s only eleven. Can’t believe you’re sleepy already.”

“I’m getting old,” you tell him, letting your head drop onto your shoulder as you hug your knees. The rest are by the shore or in the water. You have no energy to join in at this point.

Jiwoong makes a distasteful noise at your statement. “What does that make me?”

“A fossil.” You yawn once more, craning your neck to bury your face into his arm. “I’m so tired.”

He chuckles. “Are you fine with Ricky seeing you like this?”

“Please be quiet.” This time, you sneeze. Right into the sleeve of his shirt. Then you sniffle. “He’s not even here.” Jiwoong is disgusted. He tips you off, picks up your wrist, and uses your hand to wipe off your ‘germs,’ or so he says.

“You’re lucky he didn’t see that. Where is he, anyway?”

The question is answered by Gyuvin when his energy finally gets exhausted from splashing around, flopping onto the blanket next to you and Jiwoong. “He was still in our room when I left,” he says, out of breath. “I think he wanted to rest for a while.”

Gradually, the rest start to gather too. “We haven’t taken a group photo yet,” Hao brings up. “He’s gonna sulk if we take one and he’s not here.”

It’s as if you just got recharged with a full eight hours of sleep.

“I’ll go get him,” you say, promptly standing up. “I need to pick up something from my bag, anyway.” Total lie. Jiwoong sees right through your bullshit and his teeth are showing through his smile. You flip him off and start making your way back, stumbling when Hanbin asks if you want him to accompany you, bringing back the hop in your step when Gunwook tells him, “she’s a big girl, she can handle it herself.” You’ll get back at him for that later.

Two-one-three, two-one-three, two-one-three, you repeat the room number in your head as you go down each door in the hallway, ringing phone glued to your ear to inform Ricky that you’re going to barge into his room, but he’s not picking up. Maybe he’s asleep? Probably. There’s no response when you knock on the door and slot in the key Gyuvin gave you, and you’re met with dim lights and an eerie silence the moment you crack open the door.

“Ricky?” you call out. There’s no response.

The light from the hallway leaks in to illuminate an empty bed. Huh. Where is he? What rouses even more questions is the odd positioning of what should be a bedside table, for some reason positioned at the foot of the bed and a few feet away from the open bathroom door. There’s also a mishmash of things stacked on the table— books, folded shirts, magazines, and some of which have fallen and scattered to the floor.

But those aren’t the only things on the ground. 

You quickly bring a hand to your mouth. “Oh,” you wheeze out. “Oh my god.” You try to cover it up with a cough, but it’s too late. A snort managed to slip through. 

“Stop laughing,” he protests from the floor. How could you hold it in when Ricky is right there, lying curled on the ground while hugging what seems to be his knee, bathrobe-clad, with papers and magazines scattered around and on top of him. A memo sheet is stuck on his cheek. His back is turned to you. His buzzing phone with your contact name on it is next to his head.

How the hell did he end up here?

“Are—are you okay?” you manage to say as you crouch down next to him. He doesn’t budge when you try to roll him back. He lets out a grunt and tells you to leave him alone. “I can’t, I was ordered to pick you up. What are you trying to hide? Why won’t you look at m—”

When you finally roll him to his back, you realize why. 

“Oh no.”

Ricky’s got a hand hovering over half of his face— the wrong half because you can very clearly see the red gash running down his right temple, but that’s probably not what he’s intending to hide. He’s got his brows in a sad and shameful furrow, glaring eyes refusing to look at you, and you can see the shades of pink coral and pink on his cheeks, slipping through the gaps of his fingers. 

He’s pink. He’s so pink.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbles. “It’s not funny.”

You might as well eat him whole, holy fucking shit.

“N—no, you’re right. It’s not funny. I’m not laughing.” 

You’re damn near about to break into a coughing fit again with how hard you’re trying to suppress your giggles. Based on the evidence laid down at the crime scene— namely his still damp hair, scanty bathrobe, misplaced furniture, and the mess of it all— Ricky was likely trying to take post-shower thirst traps while Gyuvin was still out so he wouldn’t be made fun of. 

Slipping and hitting his head on the table’s edge in the process was probably not part of his calculations. You fear you might’ve been the unintentional cause of this because you gave him a surprise call earlier.

“Let’s get you up, big boy. Grab my hand.”

Begrudgingly, he lets you pull him up. You instruct him to sit on the bed while you call room service for a first aid kit. The wound on his forehead doesn’t look serious, but you decide to apply some ointment and put a bandage on it just in case. He winces when you clean the dried blood off with water. God, he’s too fucking cute. Your gushing is ruined by an incoming call.

“Hanbin,” you greet, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder because you’re still trying to patch up the poor boy. He scrunches his nose when the ointment touches his wound. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. A minor accident occurred. No, you don’t have to come up here. Ricky is physically well and alive.” You can’t say the same about his emotional state though. He’s been quiet and frowning this whole time. “Say hi, Ricky.”

You pass him the phone. He looks at your phone wielding hand, a contemplative expression, then takes it. “Don’t come,” is all he says to Hanbin at the other end of the line— a little too gruffly for your liking— before tossing it off somewhere onto the bed.

Ricky’s eyes snap up to look at you. Maybe you’ve been taking this situation a little too lightly.

“Is it done?” he asks in that same tone of voice, and— oh. Oh, no. You’re in a tight spot. Figuratively and literally because Ricky is leaning back against the bed, you slightly leaning into him because you’re simply, very innocently trying to bandage up his temple, and the most comfortable way to do it is having a knee propped up on the mattress, face hovering dangerously above his. 

When you unavoidably make eye contact, you flinch and feel your bones rattle.

Oh. 

Your gaze falters and your swallow down your dry throat, watching as the bathrobe slips down from his left shoulder in real time. That’s it. You’re gone. Your brain has stopped working. You’re starting to miss cute Ricky who gets excited over your strawberry candies. Where is he? Where did he go? This Ricky is a little dangerous. This Ricky feels like he’s going to fucking eat you alive.

“Y—yeah. One sec.” You’re not sure if you even managed to secure the bandage on his wound because the moment your skin touched his, you immediately flung yourself back from a ghost burn. “Did...did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” you ask. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that. Why is he looking at you like that?

The brief silence that follows swallows you whole. 

“I’m not sure. Can you check?”

Then spits you right back out because crazy fucking bastard— what the fuck does he fucking mean by can you fucking check? 

“Oh, um.” Dry. Your throat is dry. Does he want you dead? Is that it? Does it not matter whether or not you get out of this room alive? You don’t like this— whatever this is because you don’t know what’s wrong with him tonight. Did he get a concussion when he fell? Do you have to go take him to see a doctor? 

Maybe it’s you that needs to go see a doctor. Because you’re pretty damn sure that this heart rate is nowhere near normal.

Knock, knock, knock.

“We’re coming in.”

Karma acts quickly because you stumble back and nearly collapse into the floor as well. The door cracks open and you grab onto the nearest thing for balance, which, in this case, is a curtain you almost tug off from the window out of sheer force. “Ricky slipped and hurt his head,” you blurt out the moment Hanbin and a few others enter the room. Ricky’s face drops into betrayal. Self-defense. You needed a diversion.

Taerae and Gyuvin are the ones that came with Hanbin, the former taking a long look at the room and its inhabitants. “Oh,” he says after acknowledging the mess on the floor and the bandage on Ricky’s forehead. “Okay, Humpty Dumpty.”

Gyuvin lets out a snort. Ricky chucks a pillow in their direction. Thank god for their interruption because you don’t know what would have overtaken you had they come five minutes later. “No wait, did he really slip?” Gyuvin asks, a little too giddy and giggly about the whole ordeal. “Dude, did you fall over while taking thirst traps?”

And you’re subsequently kicked out of the room while Ricky gets dressed into something more decent and gets made fun of by Gyuvin and Taerae. 

“Took you guys long enough.”

You’re all back at the beach now with a grumpy Ricky in tow. Gyuvin immediately runs off to snitch on his best friend’s misfortune to the rest. He’s sulking, you notice, face down and hands stuffed in his pockets as the cool breeze flutters his hair in its embrace. “Quit making fun of him!” Hanbin scolds, and you spot Jiwoong’s expectant expression to tell him what you were up to alone in Ricky’s room.

Nothing  You were up to nothing, you send the message through your glare. You could’ve been up to something had those three not interrupted, but would you have survived that? Your eyes flicker over to Ricky, who’s trying to push Gyuvin off him— traces of the tension and danger from the hotel room completely gone without a trace that you fear you might have just been imagining it out of the sheer feeling of want you harbor for the guy.

“C’mon, let’s take a picture!”

Before you know it, you’re gathered by the shore in a bluf, feet sinking into the sand, and you feel yourself bump into Ricky at the very moment the camera flashes to capture the scene.

“Hey, this one came out nicely.”

It did. You’re not sure about the rest, but this photo deserves to be tucked into your wallet and kept in a capsule. 

Ricky is standing next to you, the tight frame leaving no gap or space in between. You’re both smiling a little awkwardly. It’s cute. You keep staring at it until your attention is pulled away by the very man himself.

“You owe me something,” is Ricky’s introduction when he saunters over to you. You raise a brow, closing your phone. Looks like he’s finally gotten over what happened earlier. Gyuvin has finally stopped teasing him by moving on to messing with the sparklers Gunwook brought. You can hear their shouts and laughter from afar, but it’s all muted down.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

He takes out one hand from his pocket, an open palm outstretched. He’s looking at you expectantly in wait. You break out into a soft laugh and shake your head. Maybe your candy-related scheme worked a little too well.

“I didn’t think I was contractually obligated to do this now,” you hum, fishing out a few pieces of candy from your sweats before dropping them onto his hand. “Maybe I should stop.”

“You can’t just start something by yourself and suddenly stop all by yourself. That’s not fair,” he complains, accepting your offer. “You have to take responsibility.” Only if he takes responsibility for your poor and shriveling heart. His tone is light, a smile playing on his lips, and at this point— you’re sure this isn’t just a crush anymore. You might just be a little in love with Ricky Shen.

YOU HAD NO IDEA HAO WAS SO INFORMED ABOUT PROF SHIN’S MAKEUP PREFERENCES. It’s her birthday this upcoming week. You three freeloaders need to keep sucking up so you can maintain your office privileges, so you decided to buy her a present. Hanbin is unavailable, so it’s just you and Hao browsing the boutiques downtown, and you narrowed down your scope (and budget) to just buying her makeup.

You pull out a bright red lipstick from the display and show it to Hao. “What about this one?” you ask. Hao puts on a look of disapproval.

“She doesn’t like wearing bright colors. Maybe something more on the nude side would be better.”

Well damn, okay. You put the rejected stick back with the rest of its friends. The next one you pick out is also rejected because it’s glossy. “Prof Shin prefers matte,” he further reasons. And now you’re starting to question exactly how and why he knows this. Hao doesn’t humor your queries, though. You settle with a nude Laneige matte lip and a matching blush as a bonus.

“We’re done here, right?” Hao asks after you two pay for the gift.

“Hold on.” You’re stopped by a certain item on display near the check-out counter. You’re convinced that you’ve definitely gone off the deep end at this point. The thoughts blurring inside your head the moment you laid eyes on the strawberry-flavored lip gloss for sale are a little too insane, even for you. You’re not buying this. You don’t even use gloss. This is crazy.

“Thank you, please come again!”

You exit the store with your gift for Prof Shin and a new lip product. You are stressing yourself out.

The buzzing of your phone forces you out of your existential crisis. It’s Gyuvin messaging the group chat. “Hey,” you tap Hao upon reading the message. “We don’t have anything else to do right? You said you have extra gift boxes at home.” When Hao asks why, you show him Gyuvin’s message.

[gyubie cutie: no one wants to send off ricky at the airport with me? :( damn i really am his only friend].

You reply that you and Hao are on the way. You know that Ricky is leaving for a quick vacation to Shanghai today (two weeks before the semester ends, mind you) after an impulsive decision involving alcohol the other day with you and a few of the guys. At one point they suddenly became all emotional and the topic of their families were brought up. Ricky woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a phone screen that tells him his flight has been booked. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just go,” he said over hangover soup and aspirin, as if he doesn’t have exams in two fucking weeks, and as if Shanghai is just a bus ride away. Sometimes, you’re surprised with how easy going he is. The flight is at an awkward time— Thursday mid-noon, so it’s no surprise that no one else is free to see him off. You didn’t mention anything about wanting to send him off and neither did he ask you to, so you thought why the hell would you do that unless you want to expose your ass full of feelings. But Gyuvin presented the opportunity. Who are you to turn it down?

“Over here!”

You spot Gyuvin waving at you two from a distance with outstretched limbs. You preemptively grab a handful of candy from your pocket— battle ready because it’s been getting harder and harder to pass these to him subtly as of late with the amount of eyes constantly on you— but you don’t find the mop of blonde anywhere, even when you’ve finally reached Gyuvin’s spot.

“Has Ricky left already?” you ask, brow raised. You’d be pissed if Gyuvin baited you two here only for the guy to have already left.

“No, no. He’s here,” he assures. “He’s around here somewhere. He bought some snacks not too long ago, but some girl stopped him to get his number. I lost him because seeing him get hit on made me gag so I had to look away for my safety.”

Well, that’s both assuring and not. Then you remember you have no right to be jealous because Ricky Shen, as suspiciously as he may be behaving as of late (case in point, accidentally seducing you in a bathrobe the other week), he is still not your damned boyfriend.

“Oh, there he is.”

Ricky who is not your boyfriend arrives, and the first thing he does is make you feel so fucking sorry that he isn’t.

“Whoa.”

No wonder you weren’t able to spot him right off the bat. His attention-seeking light hair is gone. No, he hasn’t shaved it— he dyed it freaking black and he looks so fucking good. “Oh, uh,” is how you greet him. The words have completely dried out from your throat. Ricky is looking at you expectantly. Your mouth is hanging open pathetically. “Wow.” Your eloquence is award winning.

He laughs. He wants you dead. “Does it look weird? I needed natural hair for visa requirements.”

“N—no,” you sputter out. Gyuvin goes on to brag that he was right that Ricky would look great in dark hair and Hao proceeds to try and touch said hair, only to get his hand smacked by the hair-owner, while you’re still temporarily incapacitated to say or do anything. You don’t get to say anything, because the clock strikes twelve-twenty, and Ricky has to go

“Have a safe flight, dummy,” Hao bids Ricky off with what you can only describe as a glomp, only to be assaulted by Gyuvin immediately after. You’re standing there awkwardly like a fourth-wheel, hands tucked behind your back because you can’t find the timing to say your farewells, and you missed the timing to pass the candy to him earlier after being so rudely jumpscared by his new look.

When Ricky finally manages to swat and push them both off, his eyes flash over to you. Your mouth curls into something sort of a smile— you’re not completely sure. Ricky takes a step forward to engulf you in an embrace.

Oh. Oh, so we’re doing this now, you think, eyes flying wide open in surprise with a pathetic squeak. “Thanks for seeing me off,” he murmurs softly, and you can feel his voice vibrating into your skin and penetrating your bones. You can’t even reciprocate because he locks your arms tightly against your own body, and you feel his fingers unclasping yours behind your back, allowing him to take the strawberry pieces you intended to give, before pulling away with a dumb grin. “Want anything when I get back?”

You try to blink away the violent shock tremors you’re feeling right now. “I’ve— I’ve always wanted to try the sun cakes there.” Deep breathes. You’re normal. You’re totally normal.

Ricky takes his carrier from Gyuvin, sending you a small smile. “I’ll buy you a hundred.”

“Don’t overdo it,” you let out a breath. God, he drives you insane. “Safe skies. See you when you get back.”

The moment Ricky boards the plane, Gyuvin turns around to ask you two what you should have for lunch. “Why are you so happy that your best friend is gone?” you ask with narrowed eyes the moment you three settle with the first food place you see at Terminal 1 of the airport. “Do you secretly hate him? Is that it?”

“He’ll be gone for two days max, give me a break,” he grunts. “And tomorrow’s Friday. That means I can get the whole evening and weekend to myself without anyone barging into my apartment.”

Your friend’s joy is reflected with how energetically he’s inhaling the bowl of stew. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m gonna do a progress check on your paper tomorrow.” Gyuvin sets down the bowl, looking at you like you just sentenced him to prison. Hao is minding his own business and enjoying his meal. “What? Don’t tell me you forgot that your deadline is in two weeks. I’m checking it tomorrow, so make sure it’s at the very least decent.”

When Gyuvin tells you to stop nagging because it reflects your age, Hao had to stop you from throttling the man.

Anyway, the day passes and you’re at Gyuvin’s apartment to check on his paper. 

“Why are you smiling at your phone? Damn, she’s finally lost it,” he says over another meal. You finished giving him your feedback and decided to just have takeout dinner with him. While eating, however, you received a text from Ricky— a photo of his own meal and a thumbs up above the plate of skewers. It’s been a day, but you can barely feel his absence with how he’s been texting you every hour from the moment he landed.

[ouricky: (photo attached) touchdown ✌️].

[ouricky: (photo attached) this looks like u].

[ouricky: are u asleep yet?]

[ouricky: gyuvin told me ur at his place. tell him to eat shit for me].

[ouricky: (photo attached) dinner w my sister 👍 our meal is better than yours].

“What the hell, did you get a boyfriend?” You look up from your phone to find a very judgemental Gyuvin. “After rejecting all my attempts to set you up for romance? This is a personal attack. You’re buying ice cream later.”

If only he knew you were texting his best friend. Not that you have any intentions on telling him.

“Hey, why do you smell like strawberries?” Gyuvin asks after your meal, right when you decide to retouch your makeup as you ready yourself to leave. “Is that the candy you always bring?”

“It’s my new lip gloss,” You show off the pink bottle. “It tastes like the fruit too.”

“Whoa, that’s cool,” he snatches it from you, examining it a little too close to his face to sniff it. “Where’d you buy it? Do they have one in mango?”

While trying to convince Gyuvin that he should maybe purchase actual mangoes instead of planning on eating an entire bottle of mango-flavored gloss, you also try to convince yourself that you definitely did not make this purchase yourself to try and seduce his friend. Ricky isn’t even here. You’re not wearing it for him. You’re wearing it for yourself.

“I’m off! I’ll take you to the store next time.”

When you defend yourself and your new lip gloss against Jiwoong’s judgment the next morning, he tells you that Ricky probably doesn’t feel the same way as you do. That you probably shouldn’t think too much of it and hurt yourself with your expectations. But at this point, it’s reasonable for you to start overthinking, right? Right? What does Jiwoong know, anyway? He’s not Ricky’s mother. Ricky’s mother is on a yacht with him right now, and you know because he just sent you a video and you’re damn near the precipice of falling headfirst into the depths of thinking he might just like you too.

“I just don’t want you to get too ahead of yourself and end up getting hurt.”

Assuming you’re right and Ricky does like you back— when the hell could it have started? The barbecue at Matthew’s? That one evening at Gyuvin’s apartment? That night in his uncle’s resort? You have no idea, much like how you have no idea how you somehow got absorbed into their mess of a friend group.

But a few little texts and inexplicable bouts of skinship here and there isn’t enough to set you way too far off-the deep end. The way he looks at you might just be your imagination. Jiwoong could still be absolutely correct and you’re just tripping over your own assumptions.

You’re not that quick to listen to your intrusive thoughts. You’re still a little reasonable. That’s why you haven’t fallen to your knees and blurted out your insurmountable feelings for him yet.

What does set you off to state beyond help, however, is a sudden phone call later that same Friday evening. 

Morning, rather. Specifically at four in the morning— waking you up from your sleep by its incessant buzzing. “Hello?” you groan into the mic, voice still croaky and eyes barely open. “What’s up? Why aren’t you asleep?” You have no idea why Ricky is calling you right now. The moment you hear his voice through the line however, you feel all five of your senses suddenly snapping wide awake.

“I thought it’d be a waste to spend my time here asleep,” he says with a soft chuckle. Oh, holy fuck it’s too early for this. You’re not mentally prepared for this kind of voice from him yet— low, almost a deep rumble, reminiscent of thunderstorms and clouds, only amplified by how he’s practically whispering into the core of your being through the phone. 

You pull your blanket down and roll over to the side to give your heart a chance to breathe.

“Yet you decide to call me at four in the morning instead of doing something more worthwhile,” you click your tongue, and you only hear Ricky laugh in response. “Are you planning on extending your trip? When’s your flight?”

“No, I’m leaving later. I still have to prepare for finals,” he replies. “Flight’s scheduled at 11 p.m.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” you say. “I’m pulling an all-nighter at the library tonight. Deadline to catch. I don’t think I can see you at the airport this time.”

“That’s alright,” he hums. “Next time you can just come with me to Shanghai.”

You pause. Wait. Wait a minute. “Haha, yeah, it— it would be nice to visit your hometown with the rest of the guys, yes.” That’s what he probably meant. You probably meant all of you— many, plural— not just you and you alone. Haha. Of course.

But when Ricky takes a while to reply, you start to overthink, start nipping on the skin of your lip so hard that blood might draw.

“Yeah,” he says after an awkward beat. “With the rest of the guys. Yeah.”

You really need to hear Jiwoong’s voice of reason right now. Because all you’re hearing is the sound of your own heartbeat inside your ears like a hyperactive drum.

“Anyway, you must be tired. I should let you sleep now,” says Ricky after ruining all your chances of falling back asleep. You can’t. The best you can do is get up before the sun and go on with your busy day so as to not think about this conversation too much.

“You should be the one sleeping,” you manage to reply. “Don’t forget my sun cakes.”

“Mhm. G’night.”

Crazy. This man drives you fucking crazy.

You don’t return to sleep after that.

“Okay,” is Jiwoong’s expert opinion after telling him what happened later that same evening, having dinner with him at a McDonald’s near the city library. He’s put his kiddie meal on pause while you were telling him about Ricky Shen and his demonic antics at four in the morning. He’s got his elbows on the table, fingers interlocked, and staring at you with a look so serious he might as well be diagnosing you with a disease. “I think you’re right,” he continues. “Maybe he does like you.”

The shriek you let out is almost inhuman. 

Jiwoong’s lips quirk into a smile and he goes back to eating. “I told you! I told you I wasn’t overthinking things! My lip gloss purchase is justified!” you proclaim. Jiwoong tosses a fry into your mouth to sedate you, and it works for a few chews until you start yapping again. “But, god, now what? He’s returning later or tomorrow. I have no idea how to face him.”

Your phone vibrates a message. “Is it Ricky?” he asks in an attempt to tease you, but all your face does is turn sour upon reading the text. “No? Who is it?”

“Woong,” you say, setting your phone on the table. “Are you busy this evening?”

He furrows his brows. “I was planning on writing my paper. Why? Is there a problem?”

“Great. You can work with me at the library the whole night.”

When you slide your phone over across the table, Jiwoong understands. 

[jaeryeong: can i see you tonight? please? it wont take long. i just need to make things right]. 

“He’s a persistent fucking cockroach.”

You grunt, taking back your phone. “You should report him,” he says, and you’ve completely lost your appetite. “Screenshot his texts and block his number. I’ll accompany you to the station if you want to handle this legally.”

“No, it’s fine,” you scrunch your nose. He’s a wimp, according to his ex-friend Gyuvin, so you’re sure he isn’t gonna hurt you or anything. And your exams are coming up, so you don’t want to deal with processing this entire thing while you’re already academically burdened as is. “Be my bodyguard for the night. If he tries anything, I can just throw you at him and run away.”

Jiwoong doesn’t approve of your methods, but doesn’t argue anyway. After eating you both finally head to the library where you’ll be cooped up the entire night— tucked in the corner in your own respective cubicles. 

Your friend’s worry starts stirring whenever he sees you check your phone every hour or so. He pulls back the desk chair upon noticing the serious look on your face, turning over to your direction in concern. “Is Jaeryeong texting you?” he asks. “Did he follow you here? Should I call the police?”

“No,” you reply. “Ricky sent me a photo of him at the airport. He’s wearing ear muffs. He’s so cute. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Jiwoong’s face falls to an expression reminiscent of death and stops talking to you after that.

Well. You have been receiving texts from Jaeryeong, but you haven’t opened them in case he gets motivated by the fact you’ve read his messages. You still don’t know how he and Gyuvin ended up being friends, but then again, Gyuvin was friends with a group of delinquents in high school. He wasn’t part of the group. He just thought their vibe was cool.

“Hey.” 

It’s twenty minutes past twelve, Ricky is probably still on the airplane, and you haven’t eaten anything since your 6 p.m. dinner. You poke Jiwoong’s arm, to which he blatantly ignores. “I’m gonna get something from the vending machine. Keep ignoring me and I won’t buy you snacks.” He says nothing but follows you when you get up, and you sneer at the man following you with a silent tantrum. “Quit sulking,” you tell him as you punch the numbers for coffee on the machine. “You’re not cute enough for that.”

“I’m sorry for not being Ricky,” is the first thing he says to you after two hours of silence. “You’re wearing that scheming lip gloss again, but he’s not even here.” You frown. He laughs and takes your place in front of the vending machine by cordially bumping his ass into yours the moment your drink falls down the chute. “Your phone’s flashing by the way. I think Ricky’s calling.”

You look down, bringing up your phone, and sure enough calling ID “ouricky” is giving you a call. 

He’s calling. He is calling you.

Your eyes flash back up to Jiwoong, widened in surprise. 

Why is he calling you?

“Did he send a message in the group chat that he arrived?” you ask, suddenly panicking as the phone relentlessly vibrates in your hand. “He didn’t, right? Why would he call me first? What time is it? Wasn’t his flight just an hour ago?”

“For someone who’s been pretty confident that Ricky likes you back, you’re sure acting funny,” he hums, leaning against the vending machine and taking a sip from his cold brew while you’re having a mental breakdown. “Answer it. Go on.”

“‘I’m scared!” you exclaim. “What if instead of saying hello I end up blurting out that I’m in love with him and ask him if he feels the same way?!”

You take too long to make a move so the phone line gets cut off. But when Ricky calls again, Jiwoong wastes no time to snatch your phone from your hands, click answer, and put the damn thing on loudspeaker for the entire fucking world to hear. What the hell are you doing? your scrunched up face says to him. Doing you a favor, his arrogant eyebrows reply. You attempt to snatch your phone back, arms in a desperate move to retrieve to device—

“Hello?”

—but they freeze mid-air at the sound of Ricky’s voice blurring through the speaker.

Jiwoong grins. You slowly get your phone back and press it to your ear. “Yes. Hello. What’s up?” You give Jiwoong the nastiest glare you can muster, but flinch back the moment you hear Ricky’s voice again.

“Are you still at the library?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You elbow Jiwoong when he laughs at your sudden switch-up. “Why?”

“Come down.”

What?

“I’m outside.”

It’s almost stupid how your body starts moving on its own. 

The cold air bites your skin the moment you break past the doors, met by the dim sky and muted sight of the empty plaza square outside the library entryway. But it’s not completely empty— no. Ricky, who’s supposed to be still on the plane ride back to Seoul, is standing five feet away from you, eyes flickering up from his phone the moment you arrive, a slow, soft smile blooming on his face and cheeks.

You see the suitcase next to his feet. Jiwoong’s words echo in your head— maybe you’re right, he said, maybe he does like you. It’s not just a maybe anymore. It’s not just your mind making things up.

Ricky, who is supposed to be in the air halfway between Seoul and Shanghai, went straight from the airport to the city library just to see you.

You’re usually the one doing dumb things because of him. This time, it’s not you. 

It’s him.

“Hey, are you crazy? Did your flight schedule change?” You stomp towards him, closing the gap between the both of you with big strides and quick steps. “Why didn’t you update us? Jesus, you gave me a scare when you said you were here.”

Ricky’s only reply is a laugh, and your intent to scold him more gets stuck in your throat and you stumble a little when you abruptly halt right in front of his feet. You look at him, batting your eyes in an attempt to blink away the possible pink and hazy filter you’re seeing him with, but it doesn’t work. He is just this pretty. He is just this dreamy. He is just soft and soft and soft when his eyelashes flutter above his big, dark irises as he looks at you, when his stained hair frames his face a little too perfectly, when the corners of his lips lift ever the slightest to resemble a smile.

“That’s not how you usually greet me,” he says. “Aren’t you going to give me anything?”

Your heart stirs. “What?” Aren’t you supposed to be the one asking that? He promised to buy you a hundred sun cakes, and you’re pretty sure those won’t fit inside his one suitcase. “Oh. Oh, wait.” You pat around your pockets, only to realize you left all your candy in your bag back with Jiwoong. 

“Sorry,” you tell him, feeling a little guilty. “I was in a rush to get down. I wasn’t able to bring any with me.”

Instead of responding with disappointment, Ricky just hums and leans a little closer. “Really?” He suddenly nudges his face into yours, noses bumping, and your eyes widen in surprise. “But you do have something else.”

He’s close. His face is hovering a little too close to yours to be smiling cheekily unaffected like that. You can feel his warm breath on your lips and you’re starting to feel dizzy. 

“It smells sweet,” he says and you think— oh. He’s not good for your heart.

Maybe it’s because he’s officially driven you to the breaking point of being crazy, or maybe it’s because the cold has completely frozen all the sane parts of your brain, but the words you’d usually keep tucked between your thoughts and confidentiality suddenly come stumbling out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to know if it tastes sweet too?”

You gasp after realizing what you just said. You look at Ricky with a face aghast with surprise, jumping back because holy fuck��� why did you say that? Why? You’re crazy. You’re stupid. You bite down your bottom lip and taste the dull flavor strawberry mocking the tip of your tongue. You’re insane. You have officially lost it.

If you were Ricky, you’d probably call yourself crazy too, but he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he does something even crazier by taking your offer and pressing his lips against yours.

It doesn’t register that Ricky just kissed you until after the fact, and you’re staring at him with wide, blinking eyes, lips feeling fuzzy, head afloat beyond reach, and him— at an arm’s length away— eyes averted with pink strawberries dusting his cheeks, much like the color slightly glazing his lips, as if he wasn’t the one who just pulled your trigger.

He ran his mouth about taking responsibility the other day.

You’re going to show him responsibility with your mouth.

“S—sorry, that was too sudden, I just— mmph—!”

Two months of pining after him come crashing down the moment you pull him by the collar to finish what he started and god— his lips are softer than you thought, sweeter than you thought, and it’s not just the strawberry lip gloss smudged between your teeth and tongue, melting into what you can only describe as the best fucking kiss in your entire life.

Ricky pulls away to breathe. You chase after his lips once more in a short-winded daze, only to stumble into his chest and he catches you by cupping your face to press another kiss to your mouth. “Ah. This is bad,” he murmurs between barely parted lips. “I don’t think the candy is gonna cut it anymore.”

For a second there, you thought he was gonna say that you’re a bad kisser. 

“You should greet me like this from now on.”

YOU WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING VIA SUFFOCATION FROM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE AND A TEXT MESSAGE FROM A PESTERING RAT. Blurry eyes and barely conscious, you try to roll over on the bed but physically cannot with how Ricky is squeezing your torso with his arms, his nose buried against your nape as he curls up into you from behind. 

You cannot move. You try your darndest to wiggle an arm out because your phone is incessantly buzzing on his bedside table— the only thing from your belongings that you brought with you last night because your haul to the library was left behind with Jiwoong, who’s probably the one texting you right now for ditching him.

When you finally retrieve your phone however, it is not Jiwoong who’s texting you.

It’s Jaeryeong. Squinted eyes read [how could you replace me with a grey-haired twink???] and [don’t even dare try contacting me, bitch] and the first thing you feel is confusion. Then you remember that Jaeryeong is a freak and probably followed you to the library that night, and saw you making out with Ricky in front of a public educational building.

Well. At least that stopped him from bothering you again. The question now is whether or not you should tell Ricky about this. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

You do tell him, in between washing his hair in the bathroom to get the remnants of spray stains out of his hair because Jaeryeong’s comment pissed you off. “I’m gonna kill him the moment I see him,” says Ricky with a lovely towel wrap on his head. You’re looking at him through the mirror and the scary face he’s trying to put on is promptly negated by his spa-day look.

“Do you even know what he looks like?” you raise a brow, freeing him from the towel head to reveal a damp mop of light hair. You throw away the muddled towel and grab a fresh one to dry his head.

“I’ll ask Gyuvin,” he says, face covered by the towel, and you snort.

“I think we’ll have a problem with that. I was kind of hoping to keep this secret for now.”

Ricky suddenly throws his head back, causing the towel to fall to the floor and the top of his head bumps into your stomach. “Why?” he asks, upside down, big brown eyes staring right into your soul like a premeditated attack shooting you square in the chest. He can’t pull this move. That’s illegal. 

“Be—because Gyuvin is annoying and he won’t let me hear the end of it,” you manage to say. You’re not going to fold. You’re not going to give in. “You know how I turned down that blind date with you right?”

The mention of it prompts a frown to tug on the corners of his mouth and it’s the second onslaught against your heart. “Right,” he huffs, lifting his head up to turn around and face you, looking up with a displeased expression, yet his actions say all but displeasure when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you towards him so he can lock you in place with his arms around your waist.

“Quit pouting,” you tell him. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. You’re not sure if you’re gonna last a month with him being like this.

“Gyuvin said you thought I was ugly,” he says. “That’s why you said no to the date.” 

All the adoration you feel gets extinguished in an instant.

You have never heard a more blasphemous statement your entire life.

“I never said that!” you shriek. “That’s not true at all! I didn’t even know what you looked like until we met for that Hadong trip that day!”

Ricky winces at your sudden volume and you’re quick to simmer it down and apologize by hugging his head to your torso. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I turned down the date because your best friend has traumatized me with all the previous blind dates he’s tried setting up. Jaeryeong isn’t the only disaster I’ve experienced. Every single guy he’s set me up with has been trash, so I thought you’d be just like the rest too.”

Maybe this isn’t a conversation you should be having in the bathroom of his apartment, but you digress. Ricky unburies his head and looks up at you once more. “So, am I?”

Again. You’re going to fucking eat him one day. “No,” you cup his face. You’re perfect, you’re an angel.” Maybe if you’d given him and Gyuvin a shot that day, then maybe your first meeting wouldn’t have been as awkward— but either way, regardless of the situation, you’re pretty sure you’d still somehow eventually find yourself falling for this loser.

You lean down, ready to dip into a kiss, only to hear an alarming noise outside the bathroom door.

“Ricky! Why didn’t you tell us you were back?!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You’re pretty happy that Ricky is quick to listen to your request because he immediately scrambles to his feet and tells you to stay inside the bathroom for the time being. “Hey, he’s not in his room,” you hear Gyuvin’s voice from outside, followed by Yujin suspecting that Jiwoong lied to them, followed by Gunwook saying that Ricky is definitely around, evidenced by his unmade bed and half-unpacked suitcase. 

“I—I think I’d have to lock the door,” he mumbles to you, holding the doorknob and ready to leave. “What if they suddenly barge in?”

“It’s okay. You should go out before they actually barge in while we’re both still in here.” 

Cue heavy knocks against the bathroom door. “Ricky! Are you in there?” Ricky grumbles out a swear and quickly slips out of the bathroom, a click on the knob, and you’re officially locked inside your boyfriend’s bathroom within the first twenty four hours of dating him.

Now, this is just great.

You have the privilege of eavesdropping into their reunion through the muffled audio on the other side of the door. “Who were you talking to?” you hear Gunwook ask.

“My...myself…” Ricky answers, and you feel excessively sorry for him so you decide to repent by cleaning up his bathroom. The problem is, even after you’ve finished cleaning, you’re still stuck inside because for some fucking reason, those three have no intentions of leaving.

“Hey, should we order some food?”

“Oh! Sounds good!”

“Let’s watch a movie, I’m bored.”

[ouricky: i’m so sorry they just won’t leave 😭]

You slump to the floor, back sliding down the shower glass. Maybe...maybe this is your karma for turning him down the first time and asking him to hide your relationship. Honestly, you should have known it wouldn’t be easy to keep things hidden from seven pairs of eyes (Jiwoong knows and has sworn secrecy in exchange of being his research lackey). It’s especially difficult considering you’re chronically touch-starved and must always have Ricky Shen around you to hold. So when you have another barbecue dinner at Mattew’s the weekend before your finals, and when Ricky— out of a newly formed habit— tries to greet you with a kiss on the face right in front of his fucking friends, you panic and end up shoving the poor boy, causing him to kiss the floor instead.

Your mouth is wide open. “Oh. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Hanbin and Hao hear the very distinct thunk and start questioning.

“Why...is he on the ground?” Hao looks down to see Ricky’s half-alarmed, half-confused face as he half-lifts his body off from the floor. Your face is burning. Oh god.

“He’s repenting,” you say through your teeth.

Ricky tries blinking away the shock.“...Yes...I made a mistake.”

You’re going to lock away your strawberry lip gloss from now on. It’s too hazardous. Hanbin tells you that “friends should get along” and asks you to help him set the table, leaving behind Ricky who’s being pulled back to his feet by Hao. When you see Jiwoong, who saw the whole thing, at the table looking at you with an insufferable look on his face, you flip him off.

“Are you in a bad mood today?” asks Hanbin as he passes you a stack of paper plates. “You keep butting heads with the boys.”

You’re speechless. You can’t even defend yourself if you wanted to so you resign to mumbling out a bitter apology and equally bitterly start arranging the plates on the table, much to Jiwoong’s pure and raw amusement.

When you guys start eating, you even make sure not to sit next to him. You are instead sitting next to Gyuvin, and Ricky is sitting in front of him. They’re both bickering over something again— chopstick-fighting against each other over the table while you half-listen to Matthew who’s sitting on your other side, complaining about Prof Shin and her impossible exam coverage as you clean off your plate.

“You took her class last year, right? Which lessons did she focus on?” he asks.

“Review the most recent ones. I think she just took five or six questions from the earlier lessons,” you reply, grabbing a slice of the gyukatsu you bought and heated up as a potluck, and absentmindedly place said slice on Ricky’s plate.

It gets quieter all of a sudden.

Ricky, Gyuvin, and Matthew are all looking at you— one more alarmed than the rest, and the realization drains all the blood out of your face.

“Yujin, you should try this too!” you try to play it off, placing another piece of gyukatsu on Yujin’s plate, who’s sitting right in front of you. And for good measure you do the same to all of the plates within your arms reach, all while swallowing down the desire to bury yourself into a hole, never to emerge ever again.

“Whoa, thanks.” 

This whole secret relationship thing is harder than you thought, and Ricky is very visibly sulking that you’re giving away his current favorite dish to just about anyone. Looks like you have a grown man that needs to be coaxed back into affection tonight.

Jiwoong tells you that you should just come clean and stop making it harder for yourself. You firmly refuse because even though you are having a lot of trouble and even though you definitely want to kiss Ricky and his pretty face without the fear of getting walked in on by his friends who don’t know the concept of privacy, this set-up is still better than the bane of your existence, Kim Gyuvin, making fun of you until the day you die.

The said bane of your existence treats you all out to another dinner because he finally got his grade for his community development project. He says you have no choice but to come since you’re the reason he got an A.

It’s an easy dinner. You and Ricky even agreed to arrive at separate times with him tagging along with his hyungs, and you chaperoning the children while waiting for the rest of their arrival at the chinese restaurant. The problem comes when they arrive. Specifically, when Ricky arrives because for some god damned, unplanned reason, he arrives wearing the same distinctly floral-patterned short-sleeved button down you’re wearing.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t even fucking wear florals. Why did he decide to switch up today?

Never had you thought that the day would come where you’d be begging to bring back toxic masculinity, but here you are— mouth agape, aghast, and awkwardly standing from your seat at the round table because the shirts are way too obvious to be left unnoticed. 

“Take it off,” you immediately demand. “This is absurd. Take it off and quit copying me.”

“Wow, are you two couple-shirting?” Taerae’s comment stirs a faint blush on Ricky’s cheeks. Why is this idiot blushing? 

“I’m sorry to inform you, but Rik wears it better,” says Gyuvin.

You’re thankful that the same-shirt fiasco ended there. You try to ignore Ricky throughout dinner, but god damn it, Gyuvin is right— that shirt does look pretty damn fine tucked into his slacks and framing his broad shoulders like that and it’s making you angry.

Ricky catches you checking him out from across the table and you catch him subtly smirking. Oh, what a psycho. You’re not letting him off.

“I’m going out for a bit,” you announce, standing up quite loudly with how your chair scrapes against the floor. “Need fresh air. Be back in a bit.” Thankfully, they don’t stop you when you retreat to the cluster of grass and trees and plants tucked in one corner of the outside parking lot of the restaurant. When you take out your phone and prepare to send a message, the person you intended to message has already walked into your field of vision.

Ricky leaves the restaurant not long after you did, looking around the lot until his eyes land on your little corner, a sparkle in his eyes, and he jogs his way right over to you. 

“Ah. Not today.“ 

You hold up a hand in front of your face and Ricky’s nose bumps into your palm when he leans in to get a bite of your lips. 

He scrunches his face, wincing backward, confused. “You have wronged me tonight, Mr. Shim,” you say, dropping down your hand to complete your cross-armed display of beration. “You should reflect on your actions before trying anything funny.” All Ricky does is blink at you with those pretty brown eyes and no— you’re not going to give in. You’re biting down your tongue very hard so you don’t get swayed by those dangerous weapons (said pair of pretty brown eyes).

Ricky takes a step closer, or maybe he tugs you closer to him because you suddenly feel a pull on the belt loops of your trousers, face hovering just a few inches away from yours, pressing his lips together into a pout as he tries to get you to give in to his whims, but you are immovable. You are a mountain. You are this close to squeezing your eyes shut because he’s making it very hard for you right now to not kiss his stupid face.

When that doesn’t work, he resorts to his other weapon. That is, being sickeningly shameless.

“I didn’t mean to wear the same shirt as you,” he says, voice low. “Should I take it off?”

That’s it.

You hit his chest with a closed fist. “Ow!” Then you use the same hand to grab a fistful of that darned shirt and slam your lips against his because who are you kidding? You are not god’s strongest soldier. If Ricky bats his eyes at you and tells you to jump off a cliff, you might just do it.

When you hear him grunt into your mouth— something snaps. You pull him in deeper, other hand fixed on the back of his neck, the taste of strawberries mixing with spit and short breaths and the only time you’re letting him off is when you get lightheaded from the lack of fucking oxygen.

You pull back with a gasp. Ricky is flushed scarlet and his eyes are out of focus. “Wow, um. Uh.” You wipe off the smudged lip gloss from the edges of his mouth. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“You two are so fucking disgusting.”

The sudden sound of Taerae’s voice feels like a bullet to the head.

Your face freezes. Your neck creaks, turning to the right, and you see Taerae standing a few feet away from you two, arms crossed with a face wound up in revulsion and sheer judgment and now you feel like the one passing out. You feel five years of your life getting scraped off against a sandpaper bed in real time. You want to fucking die. “H—hyung,” you hear Ricky say. “What—what are you doing here?”

“The guys are wondering where you two went, so I went out to check,” Taerae simply says, scrunching his nose before continuing. “I really did not need to see that.”

You feel the heat running up to your forehead. Oh god. Maybe you should’ve learned your lesson the first time you got caught making out with him in public. “I—” you start, a single syllable falling out of your throat before your mouth completely dries up. What are you even supposed to say in this situation? How do you explain to Taerae that this is not what it looks like— even thought this is exactly what it looks like?

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain. I knew all this time that you two have a thing.”

“Haha.” You’re sweating. You’re sweating so bad. You feel Ricky squeezing your sweaty hand. God, you’re totally screwed. “What are you talking about, Tae?”

“I heard your conversation in the car on our trip to Hadong like two months ago.” 

Well, shit.

“I woke up when Ricky nearly killed us all on the road. You two are the most unsubtle people I’ve ever met. Quit looking surprised. Do I have to mention the way you eyefuck him whenever you’re in the same space? Girl, you’re not fooling anyone.”

You peer at Ricky and he looks a little too happy to hear that. You’re dizzy, you’re nauseous, and you want to sew Taerae’s mouth shut right now. “Does…does anyone else know?” you ask, scared, and you tug Ricky out of your unhelpful corner and start heading back to the restaurant before someone else comes out to look for you.

“Well. I’m not so sure. They’ve never brought it up when you two aren’t around so I don’t think so,” Taerae replies, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I think Gunwook is onto you, but Gyuvin for sure doesn’t know.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Taerae raises a brow. “Why are you even keeping it from him? It’s not like he’s gonna disapprove or get mad. In fact, it’ll be his dream come true since he’s been trying to sell Ricky off since last year.”

The restaurant’s lights get brighter as you walk towards it. “I’m not hiding it because I’m scared he’ll get upset. I’m hiding it because he’s gonna rub it all in my fucking face and I have way too much pride to deal with that, thank you very much.” Ricky laughs. You shoot him a dirty look.

“Okay. I get it,” says Taerae. “You’re not a normal person either. No wonder you get along with everyone.”

“Hyung, that includes you too.”

“I know,” he huffs. You’re in front of the restaurant entrance now, and you make sure to wedge Taerae between you and Ricky for an extra safety layer. “I don’t think doing that is going to help, but whatever. This is none of my business, so you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone that you and Ricky are dating—”

“You and Ricky are dating?!”

Well, shit.

Maybe you’ve been out for too long. Because there’s suddenly seven people right in front of the restaurant doors, probably on their way to look for you, only for you to come walking back and getting absolutely fucked in the ass in the process.

Gyuvin was the one who made the very astute observation. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open in disbelief. You shoot Taerae a look. He presses his lips together and feigns innocence. “Oh. What are you all doing out here?” he says. So much for not telling anybody.

“You!” Gyuvin ignores him to point an accusatory finger at you— “and you!” —doing the same with Ricky as the shock completely penetrates his facial muscles. You swallow, eyes flitting over at Ricky and the both of you share the same guilty look. “What do you mean you’re dating? What?! How?! Since when?!”

Gyuvin throwing a fit aside, what bothers you more is how completely unfazed the other six are— even Yujin. What the hell? Jiwoong is given. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. But why the hell is Matthew looking at Gyuvin like he’s about to laugh? “C’mon, man. They’ve been together since the first barbecue dinner obviously. How could you not notice?” he says, and now you’re just as alarmed as Gyuvin is.

“Seriously?!” your poor friend looks betrayed, but you’re in a state no better than him because what the fuck is Matthew saying? He’s way off the mark but have you seriously been this fucking transparent all this time?

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure they started dating when we went to the resort,” inserts Hanbin, and you’re absolutely at a loss. “The phone call, disappearing off together like tonight— the hotel room. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on, Gyu.” Hao agrees. Yujin nods and says “why else would you spend three hours just getting ready for a lame event,” and you want to melt into the ground.

You can’t do this anymore. You want to go home.

“No!” Gunwook butts in, refusing to be left out. “They’ve been together since that one night at Gyuvin hyung’s apartment! I bought noona a pack of candy for her cough and Rick immediately got jealous. They even showed up together. I’m telling you. They’ve been together for longer than you all think.”

At this point, you have no idea how to diffuse this situation. They’re all arguing about when or how you and Ricky got together. Jiwoong is laughing his fucking ass off. Taerae is trying his best to act like he’s had no part in this. Gyuvin looks like you’ve just twisted a knife into his back. 

“Can...can I say something?”

It’s Ricky who speaks up and puts everything to a halt. They all look at him. You look at him. He clears his throat, slipping past Taerae so he can reclaim his rightful spot next to you, and makes your face flush a thousand degrees when he shyly hooks his pinky finger around yours and says, “You’re all wrong,” he says softly. “It’s only been sixteen days and twenty hours.” 

Oh.

It’s quiet. You can’t look at him. You have your face turned down in a heated embarrassment. You physically cannot look at him and everyone else and the fact that none of them are saying anything is making things all the more worse.

Kill me. Just kill me now.

“Hyung, you’re so lame,” Yujin breaks the silence of dread. And just like that, they go on as if nothing just happened.

“Hey, did we split the bill?”

“Oh, Gyuvin paid for it all.”

“I’m riding in Bin hyung’s car!”

“Thanks for the meal! You three get home safe!”

You’re in a daze. These fuckers just gossiped about your ass and called it a day. 

You’re not sure if you should be relieved or offended that they didn’t dwell any more on the topic of your relationship. They leave you behind with Gyuvin and Ricky, who’s legally obligated to drive you both home, and it’s so eerily quiet that you want to die. “I’ll—I’ll sit in the back,” you say, oddly reminiscent of your first meeting with Ricky, and Gyuvin simply sits in front without speaking a word to you. You fear he might actually be upset that you didn’t tell him.

Oh no. You make eye contact with Ricky through the rearview mirror as he starts driving. Do something. What should I do? I don’t know! I don’t know what to do either! and you cut your conversation short the moment you hear Gyuvin scratching his throat clear, and you jolt and straighten yourself in your seat like a guilty convict on the way to the station.

You end up not doing or saying anything until you finally reach your apartment. Ricky attempts to get out of the car to walk you to your door, but you stop him with one look because you feel bad enough as is to leave Gyuvin in the car alone. “Thanks. You two get home safe,” you say before shutting the door. The moment you close it, however, the passenger door clicks open in its place.

“Hold on.” 

Gyuvin is out of the car, and you stop in your tracks to turn around and face him, pressing down your lips together because god, you feel so fucking bad. He should be making fun of you right now, not looking all serious! He should be gloating and rubbing it in your face that you should’ve just taken his offer!

He’s got his arms crossed and looks disappointed. You see Ricky peeking out from the rolled down window in concern, ready to step in in case things get ugly. “I knew you’d be into him,” Gyuvin finally says. “I told you, he’d be different.”

Wait. Wait a minute.

Suddenly, he’s grinning again. A stupid fucking devious grin and you feel your soul escaping from your body. “Did I scare you?” 

Oh no. You’re not dealing with this shit, you’re absolutely not dealing with this shit at all.

“I’m going inside. Good night.”

“You should’ve just taken my offer the first time!”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

“And you should’ve told me you changed your mind. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have had to wait for two months before you started dating him—”

“I’m not listening, I’m not listening!”

“This is what you get for not trusting me!”

“Leave me alone!” you shriek, stomping up to your building entrance while Gyuvin happily chases you down, and you struggle to press the right numbers on the keypad so you hiss out a swear. 

“No way. This is too good. I’m telling your mom about this,” he grins. You want to cry. “Oh, and I can take the bus from here. Ricky, come out of hiding and help your girlfriend get inside her building! She looks like she’s having trouble opening the door.”

It’s almost ridiculous how the urge to throw yourself onto Ricky overtakes you the moment he shows up, but you’re not giving Gyuvin another reason to make fun of you until the day you die. You tell Gyuvin to fuck off and he tells you to not have too much fun before finally going away. You’re tired. You’re absolutely tired, and you let out a groan into Ricky’s chest and let yourself sink into his warmth the moment you’re sure Gyuvin has left the premises. 

“It’s open,” he says, prompting you to get inside but you don’t budge.

“Your friend is annoying,” you muffle into his shirt— the damned floral shirt that started tonight’s cataclystic mess. 

“He’s your friend too.” You let out a grunt. Ricky soothes circles on your back and lets you throw your silent tantrum a little longer. “Gyuvin is right though. You should’ve just said yes the first time— ow!”

Ricky’s appalled confusion when you land a hit on his chest almost makes you feel a little better. The problem is, you did the same thing earlier and pulled him into a scandalous kiss immediately after, so he’s once again staring down at your lips like he’s waiting for it. Holy shit. Your psych class didn’t warn you about this. This is a little insane.

Your powers are too strong. The power of strawberries is too strong. But you’re not thinking straight right now, emotions at a high after the events that unfolded— so you don’t think and give him exactly what he wants, ending the night with the sweet taste of tart, and another breathless exhale brushing over his now swollen lips. “I think I’ve brainwashed you,” you say in between bated breaths. “Maybe it’s not me you like. Maybe it’s the candy and the strawberries. You should cut off on the sweets.”

“That’s not true,” he grunts, pressing in another kiss, pulling away with his teeth grazing your bottom lip with a tug. “I liked you from when Gyuvin told me about you. I like you. I like this.”

Well, that’s one way to drive a woman mad. Gyuvin was right. Maybe you should’ve taken that first chance when you had it, but it doesn’t really matter anymore because either way— you’re certain that the outcome would be the same.

“Oh, what the fuck? Gyuvin just texted.” The door is still still left hanging open, and you’re still pressed up against him when you look down to check your phone. “That son of a bitch— he sent a photo of us just now to the group chat. Is he still here?”

“Leave it.” 

Ricky pulls you back when you turn and try to look for the nosy bastard who’s probably snooping around. He tips up your chin. “One more,” he says, leaning in for yet another kiss as if your lips are the candies you always give him in bulk, like he can’t function without it anymore. 

“You’re getting greedy,” you say.

“You keep spoiling me,” he mumbles, feeling his lips graze over yours for the nth time. “You make me lose control of myself.”

Whether you met him earlier or later, you’re pretty sure you’d still end up falling horrendously for Ricky Shen. And you’d still end up doing all the same dumb things you did just to get to kiss him like this over and over again.

the psychology of strawberries. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#ricky shen x reader #zb1 ricky x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x reader #shen quanrui x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #shen ricky x reader #zb1 x you #zerobaseone x you #ricky shen x you #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fluff

[steddieas-shegoes]

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst)  / Part 2 (Fluffy) /  Part 2 (Explicit)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #ao3fic #headcanon #secret nerd Steve Harrington