#<- use it to say mostly ow i want to be treated a little so idk if i should use when am not super smalllll

[bugsizedbird]

tooka nap n am only a little small now

[luveline]

Hey lovely, How about Hotch and wife!reader having their first family outing with new baby, a walk in the park or grocery shopping something like that you can pick.

Hope your having a good weekend lovely Xx <3 🌼

ty for your request ily <3 —you and Hotch juggle your small family for the first time. fem, 1.2k

“Please hold my hand?” 

Having a baby has activated some intrafamily jealousy, but you don’t mind. You’re cooing at Noah adoringly when Jack interrupts, thrusting his hand in the air, the very beginning of a tantrum lining his eyes and his thin eyebrows pinched like a threat. 

“Baby, don’t you wanna come and sit up here with Noah?” you ask. There’s not much room next to the carrier, but Jack's slight. 

He shakes his head, hand poking your tummy. Grocery shopping with Jack has always been hard, he wants to look at everything, wants to take the list, and doesn’t ever wanna sit in the cart, but it’s proving harder today. 

“Aaron, you have to push the cart.” 

He’s been begging you to let him for the last half hour. “It’s gonna tire me out,” he says, nudging you aside by the hip, “but I think I can handle it for you. You did call me by my first name for once. We reward good behaviour in this family.” 

You roll your eyes and take Jack’s little hand. Calling him Aaron now you’ve had a baby together should feel natural, but it doesn’t. It feels more like a loving nickname than his actual name —over two years of calling him Hotch is hard to ignore. 

Jack gives you a loving look that makes the fuss worth it. “This is fun,” he says. 

“This is awesome.” 

You and Jack got used to doing grocery shopping by yourselves while you were on your maternity leave without his dad. With Hotch now on his own paternity leave to accompany you, it is admittedly easier, and much more fun. You and Jack swing your hands together as Hotch steers the cart and your baby into the cereal aisle, which’ll take hours to get through, no doubt, but it doesn’t matter. What else is there to do? 

You make it Hotch’s job to say no to the boxes that are mostly sugar, and, unfortunately for Jack, get distracted by Noah in his baby carrier where it’s locked into the cart. His eyes reluctant to open, tired, dark lashes threaded together at their corners, his tiny mouth. “Aw, look at you, handsome, you’re nearly smiling. You look just like your daddy, he never wants to smile either,” you say, tapping his nose. 

Your saccharine tone prompts distress. “Y/N,” Jack whines, “you need to help me choose the cereal.” He yanks at your hand. 

“Jack, don’t start, bud.” 

“Dad,” Jack pouts. 

“No, it’s okay. We’re supposed to be sharing everybody now, so Jack gets to share me too. I’ll help you pick some cereal. I don’t mind,” you say. 

You sort of do mind, just a bit. This is Noah’s first time out in the world that wasn’t sitting peacefully in the backyard, and you don’t want him to be scared. Maybe baby’s can’t be scared, you don’t know. It’s nicer to feel close to him in these big moments. But it’s Jack’s first time having a baby brother at the store, too, so you’ll have to make it work. 

“You don’t have to,” Hotch says. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” You bend down to see the cereal selection. “They have your favourite, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And your second, Fruity Pebbles. It’s up to you, it’s your treat.” 

Jack gasps and hits a box of Fruity Pebbles, “Barney’s on the box now!” he says, pointing at the blonde character behind the cereal bowl. 

You give a soft laugh quickly lost as Jack’s force topples the box. It hits the floor with a light crunch. “Oh, whoops. Let’s pick this up,” you say, popping down into a crouch without thinking. 

“Honey–” Hotch says, which would surely be followed by a Should you be doing that? if you weren’t already flopping onto one knee in pain. 

Bad idea. Terrible idea. Having a baby tears a mixture of tissue and muscle, and while the fiery pain of labour has since become a bad memory, a spike of trauma erupts between your legs. “Ow,” you yelp, eyes welling with unbidden tears. 

“Y/N!” Jack and Hotch say simultaneously. 

“Are you alright?” Hotch asks, bending at the waist to grab you, never cruel but clearly perturbed as his hands grasp your shoulders. They slip down under your arms. “Come on, can you stand up?”

You blink away tears and force yourself to stand with his help. He’s quick to pull you close, one hand on your wrist, head ducked to see your face. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

You let out a queasy breath. “Something’s not done fixing itself,” you joke weakly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks again, lower. 

“I’m fine.” You’d love to sit down. The pain is a thrum like your heartbeat now, hurting but half as intense. “I’m okay. Really, it just shocked me.” 

He slips his arm around your neck to encourage you in for a temple kiss. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You wiggle out of Hotch’s hold. Jack stands with a large pout near the fallen box of cereal, his hands twisting together over his tummy. “It’s okay,” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, panicked tears slipping down his cheeks. “You hurt getting it and it was mine, I’m sorry.” His voice squeezes out of him in guilty pangs. 

“It’s okay!” you repeat, leaning over with a wince to offer your arms, “It’s really okay, it’s not your fault. Don’t be upset, baby, I’m fine.” 

You hoist Jack into your arms as he begins crying in earnest. His crying startles Noah, who starts to whimper, and then sob despite Hotch’s gentle shushing. You look at one another in mild defeat, your hand cupping the back of Jack’s head as he clings to you for reassurance. 

Noah’s sobbing is like a ringing bell. Jack says he’s sorry into your neck, and it’s such a desperate scene you let a laugh slip out. “Aw, baby,” you say, smiling as you press your nose to his cheek, “it’s really okay. It wasn’t your fault at all, it was just ‘cos I’m out of practice. I’m just tired.” 

“You fell.” 

Noah gurgles behind you. “I know,” Hotch says quietly. “I know. You’re okay, bud. Jack’s okay. Mom’s okay. Shh, shh.” 

It’s obviously not how you’d want your shopping trip to go, but Jack’s crying eventually slows, sapping all of his energy, and so he finally agrees to sit in the cart. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit there as well as you’d thought he would. Hotch ends up carrying him the entire time you’re in the store, and Noah doesn’t ever settle. You’re like zombies when you get back to the car, a headache stark between your ears and evident in his pinched brow. 

“Let’s try again in a few weeks,” Hotch suggests. “I can go by myself. Or we can make somebody else.”  

You wish you had the energy to kiss his brow, giving a defeated nod as you slouch down into your seat, grateful at least for his hand on your knee. “Okay.” 

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[letters-to-rosie]

random Ekko thoughts

so I'm trying to get a little fic writing in, and I was thinking of some timebomb takes I've seen recently. I realized that a lot of opinions people have on their relationship and how it's depicted center around Jinx, and I was wondering what care people give towards writing Ekko, so here are some things I like to include when writing him:

perfectionist. Ekko, at least in League canon, goes back and forth over and over to craft a perfect moment. I think he'd be observant, detail-oriented, probably a little neurotic, definitely the type to replay an awkward interaction over and over in his head in the shower or before falling asleep

emotionally guarded. first, I gotta say I don't think Ekko would want to be this way. but he's been through so much he finds it useful to have walls up. it's not like all the toughness is a defense mechanism—he fights for what he believes in and is clearly very brave (who else makes hoverboards ffs). he does miss, though, the times and people that allowed him to be more vulnerable, and he treasures it when he has it. his childhood ended way too soon

chronic overthinker. this goes back to the perfectionism, but I think he'd constantly be questioning everything. he's good on his feet, but he likes to have a plan, and he'd tends to think about those for a long time

charismatic as hell. this one I think is proven by the show, lol. Ekko seems very personable, likes to haggle (at least as a kid), and is liked enough to lead a resistance movement. I think he'd make good speeches and be good at convincing people. this would, of course, cause drama with Jinx, because he'd be like "all these people believe in me and my former best friend doesn't," ow

drama. I like to give him a pretty dramatic inner monologue, lol. I also like to think he's self-aware enough to realize he's being dramatic in the moment and to then continue the drama anyway

enjoyer of thrills. hoverboard. need I say more?

childish and playful side. didn't get to have a full childhood and cherishes getting to let that side out. cue fluff

fidgeter. it preceded the tinkering

player of mind games. this is mostly based on how he treats Caitlyn and Vi after kidnapping them, putting them through what essentially amounts to tests (for, imo, understandable reasons). he also goads Jinx into a game he knows he'll be able to win. I think he'd apply this thinking to other scenarios, be they big or small

too-big sense of responsibility. would feed into the drama for sure. he feels the weight of his community on his shoulders, and because he wants things to go well, and because they're counting on him, he takes on a lot that he maybe should not

self-righteous. he strikes me as filled with righteous anger. he's right, most of the time. on the occasion he isn't, this causes problems

proud. wouldn't be a real issue in most situations, but it's there

irreverent. he flips off cops as a kid. we love him for this

smart. this is obvious, but sometimes can be forgotten in the fandom. I'd see Ekko as book-smart and having street-smarts (or at least a lot more than Jayce, but that's a low bar). I think his verbal skills would also be a bit more polished than some of the other science-inclined characters (cough cough Jinx). I think it's also notable that among the others (Jayce, Viktor, Heimerdinger, Jinx), Ekko is the main science character who has no access to proper schooling at any point. sure, he has his job with Benzo, but it's unclear how much that would have taught him. Silco probably got at least books for Jinx, and the others had real teachers. there's an element of resourcefulness in Ekko's smarts which is laudable, imo

very dorky. we love a man with range. I feel like he would be able to operate on multiple levels, one in which he's this cool charismatic leader and another when you get to know him better, who makes science puns and has a lot of insecurities, which naturally leave him replaying awkward conversations in the shower. layers!

idealistic. you have to give people what they need to live

heart of gold. one thing that always strikes me is that Ekko is really the only member of the main cast concerned enough with the plight of the average person in Zaun to make it his whole business. he's tending to the crisis in a way that is simultaneously very grounded and (again) idealistic, where substance use recovery is very much needed in the setting but he's also (perhaps in contrast to Vander) throwing himself into battles that are unsustainable because he believes in his cause, even if the persecution is so bad he has to hide over it

disaster bi (this one is for me)

Ekko's a really layered and interesting character. I wanted to bring up some things I think about when writing him because of posts I've seen recently about him being reduced to "Jinx's boyfriend" (due to anti-black racism, of course) and posts just kinda about timebomb in general? I think because it's been canon that Ekko has a crush of Jinx for so long, it's easy to take that for granted and not give much thought to his side of the ship. we also spend a lot more time in Jinx's head than his in the show, even though the brief moment we do spend in his head introduces a whole new art style and the best song on the soundtrack (fight me)

obviously, I'm a shameless Ekko and Firelights stan. he's my favorite character in Arcane and one of my favorites in anything ever, so it was fun to flesh out my headcanons, things I think are extrapolatable from canon, and just some of the traits that go into writing him. if people have others (or just traits and things they think are interesting) I'd love to hear them! I love my brilliant and contradictory boy!

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 76

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

TW: Abuse Mention

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, March 26; 9:00 PM – Jenni and Alexia's apartment.

The evening is underway. We're at Jenni's since her apartment is the closest to The United. Needless to say, our friend is well-stocked with beer for the girls' enjoyment. We ordered takeout – Chinese food, to keep things simple. The others left us about an hour ago to enjoy their own evening. We started ours by playing a few rounds of car racing games on Jenni's PlayStation. The games went on until our stomachs started growling. I think Mapi was mostly tired of Alexia beating us. It seems like she's had a bit more practice than we have. So now we're eating, and I took the opportunity to share the good news I received today.

"And so, she’s willing to take you on at her gallery?" Ale asks. "That’s crazy. Small world, huh?"

"We're not complaining," Mapi replies with her mouth full.

She swallows before continuing:

"We were starting to worry you wouldn’t be with us next year."

"Oh no. I was more worried about ending up with nothing. I don’t think I would have left anyway..."

"But is this thing certain?" Ale asks.

"Supposedly. She wants me to visit the gallery and spend a weekend there to see if it works for both of us."

"That’s cool. At least you’ll get a feel for it."

"Yeah, exactly! Plus, she’s a woman running the gallery alone, which suits me even better."

"Yeah, that’s great news," Alexia comments, though with a hint of sadness.

My remark brings about a short silence. I take a deep breath and uncross my legs, placing them on the ground. It was now or never. I mean, there wasn’t a better opportunity.

"I think I’m ready to talk to you about it, girls."

They were both focused on their little boxes of Chinese noodles before I sparked their interest. Neither could hide their surprise.

"You don’t have to," Mapi says first. "I’ve lived in silence for over a year, and I’m fine with that."

"No. Well, no, I don’t have to. But I managed to talk to Lucy about it, so I feel ready to talk to you now. I know you won’t judge me or anything like that anyway."

"That’s the last thing we’d do," Ale replies. "But like Mapi said, don’t feel obligated. Lucy knows, so it’s already a big step for you to have opened up once."

"It’s not about opening up anymore. It’s that you two are my best friends, and I want you to know what destroyed me one day."

They nod in understanding.

"It’s just that if there are two people I’m going to tell this story to, it’s you two."

"Okay," Mapi says first. "Well, if you want to know, I’ve been looking for the truth about all of this for a long time, even though I’ve come up with plenty of scenarios in my head. That piece of garbage Feli still managed to destroy my best friend."

I give a sad smile. It took me a while to understand, but I wasn’t the only one affected by my change in behavior.

"That scumbag, as you put it, abused me for almost a year," I say bluntly, without beating around the bush.

I owed it to myself to do it this way, or my resolve would have evaporated. Still, I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes. I keep my gaze fixed on my box of food, resting on my knees.

"What do you mean, abused...?" Ale murmurs.

"She got angry because of the drugs, and I paid the price... I won’t go into the details. Even Lucy doesn’t know. She ended up figuring it out after my fight with Korbin. I had completely shut down and didn’t want her to treat me at the time, until she understood what was happening."

My throat tightens at the memories resurfacing. It’s harder than I imagined. Alexia, sitting beside me, places her hand on my knee for support.

"I—I didn’t mean to push people away. I just couldn’t stand being touched or approached anymore. I feel vulnerable around people..."

"Oh my God, you poor thing... I didn’t realize it was that bad. So... she hit you?" she asks uncertainly.

I lift my head to see them looking at me with sadness. I sigh and stand up. I don’t like feeling pitied, but I knew what to expect when I started this topic. My back is turned when Mapi speaks before I can answer.

"She did more than that, didn’t she? How far did that bitch go? I mean, you were so strong before. I never would’ve imagined someone could break you like that."

A few tears escape me. I quickly wipe them away. Mapi’s the only person who can guess the full extent of what she did. No one else here knew the Ona from before. So bold and rebellious.

"She did a lot of things I regret," I whisper.

I turn around and lift my sweater to show them my scars. Their gasps fill the room. Some are burn marks, often from cigarettes. Others are knife wounds that struggled to heal properly, as I was never able to treat them. Looking back, I think some of them should have required hospital care. But I never went. It would have meant reporting Feli and going back home. I feel foolish for never doing it now.

"I’ve never seen those," Mapi admits breathlessly.

"Well, if you think about it, I haven’t undressed in front of you since I got back," I point out.

I was never shy with Mapi since she was my high school girlfriend. We used to undress and change in front of each other without any issues before all this.

"The only time you could’ve seen them was at the pool a few months ago, but you were too busy with Ingrid and Joan," I add with a small smile to lighten the mood.

"Oh yeah, that day," she replies. "But wait, you had trouble going to the pool then?" she realizes with shock.

I bite my lip and nod.

"I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t say anything because everyone was so excited. Lucy scolded me in the changing rooms when you all left. She didn’t know no one else had seen them except her... She reassured me and made me feel comfortable before joining you all."

"Oh my God! But why didn’t you say anything?"

"It’s fine, I’m not dead," I joke. "Lucy is slowly helping me feel more comfortable in my body..." I add, blushing.

She’s the first person I allowed to see me in my underwear, practically at the start of our relationship. Granted, I was in bad shape and in a tough spot because of my withdrawal, but I could have refused her help. Somehow, she managed to earn my trust quickly.

"Does she know she abused you?"

I blush even more than before. Mapi never holds back. I can’t even contradict her because we both know she’s right. I had no shame or fear before Feli.

"No," I whisper. "I told her no to avoid her pitying me. She was already worried enough about everything else."

"You can’t hide that from her," Mapi protests.

Her reaction surprises me, and I’m at a loss for words. It’s such a sensitive topic. I’m already pushing myself to talk to her about it, so telling Lucy... the person I share my bed with... is asking a lot. The worst part is that this happened frequently because of Feli’s violence. She had hormone surges she wanted to satisfy, and I was powerless. I often thanked the drugs for helping me forget half of those moments. Seeing my distress and disconnection, Ale steps in to help me.

"Stop, Mapi. This isn’t an easy thing to discuss, especially not with her girlfriend," she defends me.

"What? If I were in her shoes, I’d want to know!" Mapi retorts.

"Please don’t say that," I reply, feeling some remorse now. "I didn’t want her to pity me about this, or worse, to hold back. I wanted everything to happen at my own pace, with her help, and that’s what happened. »

Ale nods in understanding, while Mapi crosses her arms. I sigh at that.

“I was planning to tell her after our first time, but I’m afraid she might take it badly, or... I don’t know... Her reaction scares me a little.”

“She would have every reason to take it badly,” Mapi grumbles. “She would’ve reacted differently if she’d known!”

“And that’s exactly what I wanted to avoid. You know very well I hate being pitied! That’s not how she would’ve helped me!”

Mapi dramatically sighs and rolls her eyes. I understand her frustration. Mapi is the only one who knew me before all of this. She hates that I’ve become so secretive. I guess she expected me to open up at least with the woman who shares my life so she could take care of me. But this is still my choice.

“And what exactly does she know? And since when? Because if even she doesn’t know everything, I’m not sure how to help you anymore.”

“Come on, you’re exaggerating. She’s known a lot for a while. She knows I was a junkie and that I lived in abandoned places with Feli and the other addicts.”

“She knows why you ran away?” Mapi snaps with a certain bitterness.

“Yes, she knows about my dad’s death in combat, and how close we were. She also knows about the communication problems with my family, especially with my mom... Even though that’s a lot better now.”

“And she knows she was violent?”

“Yes, since Korbin, she knows. Like I said before, she’s the only one who will ever know the details of every one of my scars.”

I say this preemptively to stand my ground. I understand she’s still worried about me after hearing all of this, but she has no right to question my choices. Not about Lucy, nor about what I choose to tell her. Mapi narrows her eyes for a moment before sighing in defeat.

“Fine,” she mutters.

“Lucy has helped you a lot...”

I give a sad smile to Alexia, who seems a bit shocked. The poor thing just learned a lot all at once. I had never told her any of this before. To my surprise, she doesn’t resent me for keeping it from her, judging by the way she continues.

“I remember the first day we met. You brushed me off like never before,” she laughs. “I thought I was in for a rough year, and that we’d never be friends given the anger coming off you…”

The way I acted when I met Alexia is one of my biggest regrets. We’ve become very close since then. Alexia just wanted a friend, having never had one before, and I’m glad she can now count me as one.

“But in the end...” she continues. “Once you faced Lucy, I saw that anger disappear. I don’t know how she did it, but she really helped you work through a lot.”

My shoulders slump at this truth. She understands what my girlfriend has done for me. I nod softly to confirm.

“Yes… That’s exactly what happened. She pushed me physically and mentally with punishments… Yet she always listened and supported me. I questioned myself so many times because of her, and I started to trust her. Once she realized that, she began to rebuild me.”

“You see,” Alexia turns to Mapi. “You’re scolding her for not opening up enough… But I think Lucy already knows.”

“Why do you say that?” my best friend asks, frowning.

“Because Ona has never needed to speak for Lucy to understand that something is wrong.”

I sit at these words. If I were honest with myself, I’d say that’s exactly what I hoped for from Lucy. I pushed her away so many times when things got serious, hoping she’d figure out what I’d been through. Unfortunately, she’s never brought it up. So I don’t know if she knows.

“I’m sorry,” Mapi says. “You’re probably right, Ale. I was so jealous at first of how easily she reads you when I’m supposed to know you best… So yeah… She probably already knows, if I could figure it out.”

“I hope so,” I murmured. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Do you still have trouble with people in general?” Mapi asks me.

“No... Well, school and Lucy in particular have helped me open up to the world again. I still push people away sometimes when they surprise me with touch, but it’s happening less and less. We’re working on it a lot.”

“With Lucy?”

“Yes. She’s helping me regain my confidence. In fact, I finally gave myself to her last week.”

“She’s really had a lot of patience. Kudos to her, because I would never have been able to do what she’s done in such a short time.”

“Totally,” Ale agrees. “It’s no wonder you’re so close. Even if you two hadn’t gotten together, I think you’d have maintained a strong bond that the other students wouldn’t understand.”

“Speaking of school, I forgot to tell you, but Wiegman knows,” I said.

The girls look at me without any visible reaction, taking a moment to process what I said.

“Who’s Wiegman?” Mapi responds.

“What do you mean Wiegman knows?!” Ale exclaims.

“Wiegman knows,” I repeat with a small laugh. “Wiegman is the school principal, and she knows. My management professor, who has a crush on Lucy, talked about us to Wiegman. Lucy was there to hand in her resignation letter, and she confessed. She didn’t want to lie, especially since she was about to leave anyway.”

“Wow!” Mapi exclaims. “She’s lost it!”

“But what happened? Are you two getting expelled?”

“No. We think the fact that she knows my mom helped a lot. She also took Lucy’s resignation into account. Since we’re at the end of the school year, she’s letting us finish, and I’m allowed to continue my evening classes since they’re part of my apprenticeship,” I explain with a shrug. “We just have to keep being discreet because if any student finds out, she won’t be able to do anything to stop us from getting expelled.”

“Wow!” Ale exclaims. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yep. So… Wiegman knows,” I sighed.

“Lucy really took some big risks.”

“I know. I felt bad when she told me, but it just goes to show that honesty pays off.”

“And when did all of this happen?”

“Yesterday.”

“And then you say nothing interesting happens in your life,” Mapi mutters to Ale, who bursts out laughing.

“Alright, enough about me. What about you two!? You always let me go first.”

I look at them in turn. They glance at each other, and Alexia decides to go ahead.

“Well, nothing special. Alba agreed to meet Jenni at Leah’s party. Of course, Jenni accepted, but she’s terrified,” she laughs. “She’s afraid of Alba’s reaction.”

“Your sister’s a bit of a pain,” Mapi comments.

“A bit, yeah,” she sighs. “It’s partly my fault too. I hid my relationship for way too long. I shouldn’t have.”

“True,” I agreed.

“Have you talked to Lucy about it? Are you two coming?”

I shake my head, crushing her hopes instantly.

“Sorry, but she refused. Since we’re under scrutiny with Wiegman, she really wants to wait until the end of the school year before we go public with my school friends.”

“Damn…” she sighs.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be well surrounded. Misa will be there, I imagine.”

“Yeah…”

“She’s really cool, you know. We helped each other out when you and Alba were called in. Maybe you could do the same for her that night…”

“I’ll see,” she grimaces. “I’m not sure where to place her. She came to tell me, and I quote, ‘we should get to know each other better.’”

“Who’s she? Your sister-in-law?”

“Ew, don’t call her that,” Ale replies.

I laugh heartily. It seems like things still aren’t smooth between them. I know she doesn’t really like her, but she’d be surprised.

“Come on, she’ll be a good help, trust me.”

- Yeah, well, wait. I think Alba plans to spend part of the holidays with us, like, "to make up for lost time," you know? I'm so pissed! I thought we'd finally be able to enjoy some time just the two of us!

I laugh again. I understand how she feels. It’s always like that with Lucy. We plan to be together, and then everything gets turned upside down. It's complicated with family all over the place.  

- And on top of that, you two won't be here, she adds. I heard you're leaving a week early.  

- Yeah, we're going to my grandfather's for the first week. Since we're going to Portugal, we might as well make the most of it, I replied.  

- Yeah, that's true, but once again, you won't be here to back me up, she says, pouting.  

- Either way, we wouldn't have been here. You'll have to wait until the end of the year for that.  

- Damn it, sighs Ale. It's ridiculous. It’s not like our friends would rat you out.

- Oh, you never know! Mapi surprisingly defends us. All it takes is for someone to have something against Lucy or even Ona, and boom, they're screwed.

- Yeah, mumbles Ale, not entirely convinced.

I laugh quietly to myself, but I think that’s exactly what Lucy believes too. That, and maybe the fact that she doesn’t want to get too close to her students before she leaves. I’m giving her some space for now, but once exams are over, she won’t have any more excuses. I definitely plan to introduce her to the whole gang.  

- So, Mapi, what about you? Anything new?  

- Not much. I'm selling my apartment. Preparing for my move... The school accepted my enrollment.  

- That's awesome! Ale comments.  

- Yeah, definitely a good thing. Also, my parents got in touch.  

- No way! What did they want?  

- To spend time together and reconnect, she laughs bitterly. Apparently, they wanted to check in on me and see how I was doing.  

- Ouch. Any hidden agenda?  

- No idea. I refused. I plan to spend my vacation here getting settled. I told them that and mentioned I have a girlfriend. When they started giving me grief about it, I hung up.  

- No surprise, I grimaced. They didn’t even ask how you were doing before that?  

- Nope. They started by asking how school’s going, if I’m doing well... Same old. I guess they still don’t have anyone to take over their stupid business. I wasn’t planning on seeing them again anyway. They probably thought I’d changed my mind about how I live. They still haven’t realized I’ll never be straight or take over their damn succession.  

- But what exactly do they hold against you? Ale asks calmly.  

- Well, exactly what I just said. Being a lesbian and loving engineering, which they consider a "man’s job." They would’ve preferred me to inherit the family business and start a family with a man for the succession. I’ve always refused. There’s no way I’m pretending to be someone I’m not for people who were never there for me.  

I smile sadly. She rarely talks about her family, even to me. All I know is that they’re rich, always off on business trips, and were never around. The day of her accident was the turning point for her. They couldn’t even be there for her, so she not only rejected her inheritance but also cut ties with them. I knew it was hard for her. Despite what she says, she values family a lot. I can tell when she’s with mine. She’s always said I had nothing to complain about. I find it awful that her parents want her to be someone she’s not. I’m glad she’s finally found some peace in her life thanks to Ingrid.  

- Anyway, no more news from them. I’m living my life, about to join you guys, and it’s about time. I’m really happy about that.  

- And how’s your leg?  

- It’s doing better. The pain is less frequent. But I know it’ll never fully heal. I was told that after the first surgeries.  

- Do you need another operation soon?  

- No, your mom managed to avoid that. We found other solutions. Better physios,… Anyway, they’ll never be able to fully fix it.  

- What happened, with that? Ale asks hesitantly.  

- Car accident. Wasn’t even my fault, she jokes with a laugh. A drunk driver crashed head-on into my mom and me. My knee got completely crushed. According to all the doctors, I was very lucky, if not miraculous, to have saved it.  

My heart sinks every time she talks about it. She was heading home with her mom when it happened. Mapi was the most injured since the car hit her side. The man in the other car flew through the windshield and didn’t make it. Her mom was the least hurt, with just a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. They were rushed to the hospital, especially Mapi, whose knee was shattered. Their father joined them at the hospital. What I find disgusting is that once her mom recovered, her parents didn’t stay with her. Mapi was a teenager, and legally, they shouldn’t have left her alone. But they did. They went back on business trips for days. They only visited occasionally to check on her progress. Mapi had to go through several surgeries alone, with no support. Then came the physical therapy, where they’d just drop her off at the doctors without asking if she needed help. She’s always said that the best thing her parents did for her was bringing her to Barcelona. They were advised to go to the best surgeons there. That’s when we met at school, and my mom started visiting her at the hospital since she was always alone. She’s always told me that her real family is us.  

- By the way, did you call your mom about the wedding?  

- What wedding? Ale asks.  

I blush in embarrassment. I didn’t even have time to tell her. My God, I really need to get back to reality.  

- My mom’s getting married to her partner. I called her this morning, and I agreed to be her maid of honour.  

Mapi practically explodes with joy, jumping on me. I laugh softly. I know she’s always wanted us to get along better since she’s always gotten along with my mom.  

- No way? Oh, I’m so happy! So, you’re going?  

- Of course, I roll my eyes. It’ll be after the exams. June 18th.  

- Oh no, Ale groans. You won’t even be here for my birthday!  

- Really? When’s your birthday? I ask.  

- Well… the 18th, she laughs.  

- Damn. No, we definitely won’t be here, I chuckle. We’ll probably head to Barcelona right after the exams to help with the preparations and all that. Lucy suggested it to get a break before the exam results come out.  

- Oh, that’s even better! You’ll be with me then! Can Ingrid come too?  

- My mom will probably invite her too, so yeah, of course, I laugh.  

- Well, I’m still upset. No one will be here for my birthday, Ale says, crossing her arms.  

- Oh, come on, we’ll celebrate your birthday, don’t worry.  

I say, giving her a hug. The last thing I want is to not celebrate her birthday.  

- Yeah. We’ll do it when we’re back. Maybe a night out, something with lots of drinks! It would do us good.  

- Speaking of drinks, I saw a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Anyone interested?  

- Yeah! Mapi exclaims. Go ahead, pop it open!

We laugh as Ale gets up to grab it. A glass of champagne sounds good tonight. I needed to unwind, and since Lucy is picking me up later, I don’t hesitate to have a drink or two, especially after Ale pulls out the rest of the alcohol from the other night.

Saturday, March 26; 2:50 AM - Jenni and Alexia's Apartment.

- Darling, someone murmurs to me.

I groan, burying my head into something soft, like a pillow. I recognize Lucy’s touch as she runs her hand through my hair, a little mocking laugh escaping her.

- Come on, get up. I need a little help.

I sigh contentedly, blinking my eyes open. It’s hard to keep them open, even though there’s no light in the room.

- You can stay here if you want, I hear Jenni offer.

- No, no. We’re heading home. Come on, babe, at least sit up so I can carry you.

I groan as she pulls my arms, trying to sit me up. I never know where she gets her strength, but somehow, she always manages. I have a slight headache. I definitely overdid it with the drinks tonight. I don't even know what time it is. Wrapping my arms around my girlfriend, I teasingly pull her toward me. She laughs before pressing her lips to mine.

- You’re not going to make this easy, are you?

- Nope, I grumble.

Too tired to fight back, I let my head fall onto her shoulder. She takes advantage of my state to pull me to the edge of the couch, then lifts me by holding me firmly by the thighs. My limp body betrays me, collapsing entirely against her.

- Thanks again for the evening.

- Will you be okay? Jenni asks her.

- Oh, yeah. It’s not the first time I’ve had to carry her, she jokes.

- Alright, she laughs. Be careful on your way back. Text me when you’re home.

- I will. Thanks.

I hear the door close as Lucy moves, followed by the sound of the elevator. I wait until the doors close to speak.

- You’re not mad at me? I mumble.

- Mad at you for what, baby? she whispers.

She gives me a little bounce to adjust her grip on my body. I groan softly at the jostling.

- For drinking too much, I whisper into her neck.

I’m being honest, because I know she knows. We didn’t have time to clean up the bottles, and I must reek of alcohol. I'd rather be upfront than face a scolding.

- No, she surprises me by saying. Not in this environment, where it’s safe.

A long breath of relief escapes me. She kisses my temple and finally exits when we reach the ground floor. I can feel the cold, and I realize I don’t have my jacket on.

- I’m warning you, once we get to our building, you’re walking up. You’re getting heavy, I swear.

I laugh into her neck as best I can, but I nod. I figure by the time we get there, I’ll be somewhat awake. Somehow, Lucy manages to get me into the car, and I hear the door shut before she walks around to the driver’s side. That’s when I notice my jacket is draped over my lap. I decide to put it on to stay warm.

- I love you, you know that? I say, in the middle of the drive, making my girlfriend laugh.

- Yeah, babe. I think I’m aware, she teases.

- Why are you laughing? It’s not funny. I’m being very serious! I huff.

- I’m not laughing.

- Yes, you are!

- Well, only because you’re the most adorable thing when you’re drunk. I forgot how happy you get in these moments.

- Does that mean I can drink again? I say excitedly.

- I never forbade you from drinking, she sighs.

- Yes, you did at the beginning.

- Yeah, but back then, you weren’t as responsible as you are now. And the places you frequented weren’t exactly the safest.

- Blah, blah, blah.

- Babe, she giggles. Don’t pick a fight in such a nice moment.

- Hmm, I reply, stretching. I’ll try not to, I tease.

We arrive at our building, and Lucy parks in the underground garage. This time, she doesn’t carry me up, but she still helps me stay upright and even undress me a little once we get to our apartment.

- Can I wear one of your shirts? I mumble as I collapse onto the bed.

- Of course.

I’m down to my underwear as she rummages through our closet. I take off my bra without any hesitation. Partly because I’m drunk, partly because I’ve become comfortable with Lucy since we made love.

- Here, she says, tossing me one.

I put it on quickly and slide under the covers, watching Lucy change. Once she’s done, she joins me in bed. I barely have time to snuggle up to her before I feel myself drifting off. I can still feel her lips against mine just before I fall asleep.

- Good night, my love.

- Good night, baby, I mumble back.

[snickerdoodlles]

headcanons behind fic: Chay's allowance and KimChay zero baht dates mentioned in long & short

Kim chokes trying not to laugh. “Seriously Angel?” Chay looks at him, lips pulled into a pouty moue like what? “You only take me out on zero baht dates, but you’ll pay people to draw us as cats?” Chay sniffs primly. “I only use my allowance for education and fine art,” he says, haughty.

Korn giving Porsche and Chay a large allowance comes up in a lot of my fics I think, because I see him giving all of his sons and his wards a large allowance. And for once, it's not actually a part of his usual manipulation and control tactics.

(Well. It's not not about manipulation and control, because everything Korn does involves manipulation and control. Korn absolutely monitors their accounts and purchases, not to mention he's absolutely the sort of person to always have a mental ledger of favors given and owed for everyone, especially family.)

However, he doesn't need to control any of the boys' finances to have control over them and he's so present over all of them that giving them access to their own money (vs having them request it from him directly) doesn't give him any more advantage over them or could even run counter to it.

No, I see Korn giving all the boys a hefty allowance as a personal push back against the ghost of his father.

We don't know anything about grandpa Theerapanyakul beyond the fact that Gun invoked his name while yelling at Korn and the mere comparison of them rattled Korn more than the literal gun war happening in his own home. Of all the terrible fathers in this series, the grandpa takes the cake apparently!

Alongside Korn's deep-seated control issues, he also has this weird...thing where he really, really wants to be seen as a caretaker and good provider. He never outright denies his sons and is seemingly very supportive of them-- Khun was allowed to fall back and be taken care of, Kim was allowed to live separately to become a musician, he paid off judges in the name of Kinn's childhood dream, later he supports Kinn and Porsche's relationship-- and the whole fucked thing with Nampheung and the narrative he's constructed around him taking care of her. Even Korn's relationship with Gun is a little bit weird given how much he talks about competition. Like, he desperately wants to be seen as a good provider and caretaker, he just also can't stop being Korn and has that stupid-ass metaphor with the knife and the apple. It's a very crunchy contradiction.

Anyways, Korn's issues aside, I see Korn giving his sons and later wards personal allowances as a part of his personal image of himself as a good provider.

And Porsche and Chay hate it.

(Porsche reminds Chay they're very grateful. Chay mutters where was this help when Porsche took out an informal loan too young. Porsche hisses and whips his head around for any walls that are listening.)

Chay mostly just tries to ignore the supposed pile of money apparently just...sitting there, for him, and spend no differently than how he usually would (it doesn't feel real, digital money is never real to him). However, after so many years of Porsche sacrificing to save money for his needs and future, Chay can't bring himself to ignore the account completely when it comes to things like school or food. He never actually looks at his account, he mostly just squeezes his eyes shut whenever he uses his card for essentials and waits for the system to deny him, except it never does. That does not make Chay feel any better about the situation.

The only time Chay's close to breaking his "no treats" stance is shortly after he and Kim get together. Chay wants so badly to treat Kim to something really special, but. Money. He frets. He makes a pros and cons list. He paces. He has an entire argument with himself in the mirror. He angsts. He takes one look at Kim's happy face over a candlelight dinner and decides fuck it, that's a guy he's going to spoil to the moon and back, stupid blood money allowance be damned.

Except, as established, Chay's never looked at his actual account, so he goes to Cash the accountant to see what his options are for spoiling dates. Like, he's been paying his tuition and the card always goes through at the grocer or noodle house, and Korn does keep telling him his school allowance includes some extra spending money, but Chay wants to spoil Kim. A band they like will be on tour in Bangkok around Kim's birthday, Chay's gunning for special VIP tickets and some extra money for merch and dinner. Surely stupid rich mafia has plenty of money to spare for that.

Chay: would I, uh, be able to get a little extra money? tickets are 3000 but they're for a really special occasion and-

Cash, thinking about Kinn's 3000 dollar helicopter tickets: I don't care, let me just pull up your account details

Chay: thank you so much 🥺

Then Cash turns his screen around to ask Chay how much money he needs and. That is. A lot of money. So many digits. The decimal certainly in the wrong spot. Then Chay looks to the top of the corner and nearly screams because that's his name on the account, what the fuck?

Cash: Khun Korn said to have enough money to cover your tuition

Chay: [does not point out the initial balance was 3x his four year tuition]

Chay...leaves. He thinks. He doesn't know how he got from Cash's office to his room but his next stop is his bed to scream into his pillow until his throat hurts. Fucking rich people.

In protest, Chay takes Kim out the next evening on a zero baht date. They walk along whatever part of the river's nearest to their university to watch the sunset, have to jump a fence and duck two railings to even find a private sitting space away from any other river goers. The view's passable at best, at least free of most industry stuff thanks to the proximity to school but hardly the most inspiring. Chay spreads out his flannel for them to sit on, and feeds Kim dry packet ramen and stale shrimp chips he got free from a university event. He didn't even buy a drink, they survive off a mostly full bottle of grape soda Chay stole off a friend.

(It's a magical evening for Kim, obviously. Ferreting out little hidden spaces hand-in-hand with Chay, enjoying the nighttime air curled together, eating terrible cheap food that somehow tastes good? This is DOING things to him. He will be bringing a guitar and minimum two water bottles with him next time tho.)

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 13

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: You moved to Seoul to start over after a bad experience, and everything seems to be going well, you even manage to work for HYBE. You discover, however, that you owe them almost a billion won, money you don't have and don't know how to recover: but don't worry because Hybe itself offers you a solution.

Your body in exchange for paying off your debt.

Do you accept?

TRAILER 1

TRAILER 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

FIRST CHAPTER:

The truth is that I am not immune to Niki's charms either, but I have to resist. I don't do it for Heeseung, I do it because it feels right.

"Niki...do you really want things to be like this between us?" I ask him, motionless, as he continues kissing my neck, my shoulders, cupping my breasts with his large hands.

"Why? - He pauses for a second, laughing. - Did you think it would go differently?"

The driver must really be a pervert, the way he keeps glancing at me from the mirror. Okay, I have to keep calm but mostly I have to talk some sense into him: beyond all that, he's a kid, I don't feel comfortable at all.

"Noona - he says, lifting his gaze to me - I'll be good... I won't treat you like Heeseung or Sunghoon, can you just trust me?"

How does his voice, so dark, say things like that while he has the expression of a sadist printed on his face? Fucking Riki, you put me in serious trouble.

"It's not that. You're too young..."

He trails off, annoyed. "But excuse me, in your country in what year do you come of age?"

I look at him surprised as I reflect. "Eighteen..."

"Then it would be perfectly legal!"

"Im not worried about the legal thing right now - I sigh in frustration, adjusting the neckline of my shirt - if you want to force me to do it I will, but know that's not what I want."

Will it end like it did with Heeseung? Will I give in to the next temptation with Riki as well? I hope not, I'm already in a lot of trouble.

"Noona... I think I will force you. But it bothers me that you would then be angry with me."

Is he serious? Heavens, I really can't find his face cute now. "R-Riki...it's not easy for me to refuse you either."

He crosses his legs, huffing and looking offendedly toward the window. "Then don't do it."

"Really..."

"Anyway, don't think you've won. - He says and I'm very puzzled. - I never lose."

I smile tiredly, perhaps it is true that this is all a game, everyone plays their own personal game, everyone makes choices that inevitably affect the course of history, everyone follows a strategy. Perhaps the only one who has not implemented any strategy is me.

"Riki, am I pretty? - I ask him after a few minutes of silence. - Why do you want to sleep with me? Honestly...doesn't it bother you to know that I have also been with your friends?"

Niki doesn't even turn around, just sighs. "I am not like them, and they are not my friends."

It breaks my heart to hear him say such things, he is different from the little boy in I-Land, he is dark as a forest at night, it is not only his deep voice that makes me think so. Looking at him closely, even though he almost turns the back of his head to me, I can see that his face is sad.

"Has he always been like this?" It comes naturally to me to ask.

The japanese boy sighs again. "I've never forgiven them, so I guess so."

Oh no, my heart is broken in earnest now. His voice... Is so sad, his beautiful eyes are so sad. My chest is trembling, my body is shaking, and honestly I feel my eyes are wet too, it's crazy. I dry them immediately, I don't want him to see it.

"The point is that you allow them to do everything to you - he says, turning to me - but with me you hide behind the nonsense of age."

"You haven't answered me - I try to keep my attention, before losing myself in desire. - Am I pretty? Is that why you want to... do it with me? Or is it because you think it's your right?"

"What do you care? - He asks annoyed. - You can't refuse anyway."

"Then why did you stop?"

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Can I continue?"

"N-No. I mean, if I can't refuse why don't you force me?"

"Noona - he interrupts me, in a very serious tone - stop saying these things, it's already hard. - He points to his erection with his eyes. - I'm not even a patient type."

I cough nervously, looking away since I've blatantly looked in the direction of his cock. "I-I don't think you're that kind of person, I mean this..."

"Just because I was nice to you a couple of times? - He asks again amused. - Don't get any ideas, I only let it go because we're coming soon. I told you noona, I never lose."

I petrify, I freeze, I paralyze. Did I really assume that Riki... or rather, Niki, was different from them? Did I really underestimate the fact that he is still and always a man?

I spontaneously think about telling to Heeseung, but maybe that's not a good idea. Even if this kid acts like this, I'm sure the boys in the band hurt Riki a lot, and that's why I'm angry with them. They should be united, helpful, kind to the younger one, a foreigner to boot!

After a while the driver stops, Niki gets off for about five minutes, which makes me think it was a somewhat questionable encounter, partly because the boy keeps a plastic bag in his jeans pocket when he returns.

I know because he pulls it out after the car starts up again, stuffs it into his boxers in front of me.

"Riki! - I feel like calling him back, spontaneously. - Don't tell me that..."

"Don't worry about things that don't concern you, and try not to tell your friend."

"Of course I wouldn't! What do you think? I care about you all."

The japanese boy turns to me, smiles as if almost pitying me. "Even though we are all so horrible?"

Unfortunately, yes.

"I'm sorry if you've suffered over the years." I say suddenly, completely heartbroken.

He looks at me in silence, perhaps not expecting it.

"You know, I've thought many times that if I could have made a wish I would have asked to go back to the day I arrived home, however, now . - I smile, bitterly - I think I would ask that everyone had treated you kindly. Maybe because deep down I knew it too."

I'm sorry Riki, you who were just a hyperactive kid, with eyes full of passion, drive, and lots and lots of talent. You who were always so unique, so positively eccentric, you didn't deserve this.

Nobody deserves this.

I would like to caress his face and hug him, but I don't want to misunderstand. I really, from him, don't want anything.

"Thank you. - He tells me after so many seconds that I thought he would never speak again. - Thank you... for noticing."

Oh no, I can't contain the tears, it's obvious but I don't want him to see me cry, so I simply turn away. I wipe them away but they keep coming out, I feel like a fool, my heart explodes and it's like it's clamped around a vice.

"Noona, don't cry. - Says Riki, grabbing my shoulder. - I'm not so good-looking if I start crying too."

I look at him, wow... he managed to make me feel better in just one second. "In my opinion, you're handsome even if you cry."

The boy sketches a half smile before wiping the tears on my cheek with his thumb. "Let's hope you never find out, I always want to be handsome in your eyes."

Oh no. He can't take advantage of the fact that I am so vulnerable to get to his ends! If he says things like that, he's no help at all.

"Noona, I want to tell you the truth - he sighs as if he is about to say something unpleasant - this will not change today's plan."

"Huh?"

"I think you're a nice person - he says, stroking my cheek and smiling - I got that impression right away. I expected you to scream, to cry, but you remained composed."

I stare into his eyes briefly, then have to look away or my chest will explode. "I did it because I was ashamed since I met you all under these circumstances, not because I am a good person."

"Shy people who feel ashamed - says the boy, smiling sadly, - I don't remember them since I've been in this environment."

What is he getting at? And why is it that while he is telling me things like this, he keeps claiming that he will go ahead with his plan? With his intentions?

"Then why do you want to do it anyway?"

"Cause you aren't pretty, you're beautiful noona - he says, as if it were obvious - we are colleagues. You may have already forgotten because those idiots tormented you, but you are here to help me get better... physically."

I swallow upset. "However..."

"Having fun together won't stop us from becoming friends, if that's what you want. - Sigh Niki. - I told you, I like you as a person too, but I can't and won't give that up."

What is he saying? Can it really be done? Could we become friends anyway? No, that's not the point! Riki suddenly caresses me, again, this time, however, I shudder and back up in my seat.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful not to make you fall in love with me." He says, laughing.

"We're here." The driver speaks for the first time, and I must say he has the voice of a mature man indeed.

The singer looks out the tinted window and nods. "Yes, should be here."

"Who are we having lunch with, Riki?" I ask then, puzzled.

He laughs again and my doubts increase. "You'll like it."

"A-Are they celebrities?"

"Does it seem possible that I hang out with ordinary people?"

Oh no, then they really are.

After the driver parks in the club's private parking lot, which I have only seen from the outside, he gets out of the car to open the door for Niki. I get out, too.

"Mr. Nam - Riki seems to scold him after getting out - first you open the door for the ladies."

The man coughs, looking annoyed. "I thought you wanted to do it."

The young man does not respond and sets off, I follow him and see that the driver remains leaning against the car, he is not coming with us and it was obvious, but I don't know why this surprised me. Maybe because he looks just like the secretary of the young CEO of a kdrama.

"They cook japanese here. Do you like sushi?" He asks me as we go upstairs.

I look around surprised, everything is lavishly decorated, plus the customers all look like rich people. They are wearing designer clothes, they are beautiful and groomed like celebrities and maybe some of them really are, I feel like a fish out of water, also I feel very embarrassed to show up dressed like that.

"Don't you like it?" He asks me again, after a few seconds, as we wait for someone from the staff to vacate to greet us.

"Huh? N-No, I love sushi!"

"Really?"

I nod awkwardly. "I've always been fascinated by japanese culture, since I was obsessed with games, anime and manga as a kid, I wanted to know more about Japan."

He doesn't say anything, just stands watching me in silence until the beautiful waitress arrives. "Mr. Nishimura." She says, in a shy little voice, looking at him spellbound.

How can I blame her. Niki notices her only after a few seconds, as if she is reflecting on what I said. "Ah... yes, there is a reservation Choi, it should be room 7."

She nods, not giving me a glance as she waves for him to follow her. As we walk through the corridors of this beautiful place, I can't help but look at the wonderful paintings on the walls, they seem to date back several centuries and look like originals, given how preciously they are kept in these glass cases that cover them.

"It's been a long time since we've seen it. We're really glad...I'm really, really happy too..." smiles the girl, as enthusiastic as a fan.

"Have the other two arrived yet?" Riki asks, brutally ignoring her words.

I naturally hit him on the shoulders. "Yah! Didn't you hear what she said?" I scold him.

Niki stops and stares at me, not angry but confused. "What did I do?"

"She said something you should have thanked her for." I explain, in front of her who, however, looks at me irate.

Now I'm the one wondering what I did wrong.

"H-how dare you? - She tells me, I am genuinely shocked by this. - N-N-Not... you mustn't allow yourself!" She just says, I can tell she's too nervous to even speak, maybe because in front of Niki, but I didn't quite understand what I did to offend her.

"Excuse me?" I ask confused.

"I don't... I don't need d-your help. Mind your own business."

Now I slap her across the face. No, okay, calm down Amanda.

"Are you done, Shinhye?" Riki asks, surprising me.

He knows her name, and his tone is very informal. "W-who is she? She's n-not even famous."

The boy snorts impatiently. "Will you accompany us or shall I have someone else call?"

Yes, the two know each other. I look at Riki surprised he snorts again.

She resumes walking in silence and eventually accompanies us to

Room 7, a private room. When she walks away, I see Riki nervously scratching the back of his head before entering.

"Have you been with her?" I ask him.

"A few times."

"But she's like 30!" I become alarmed, like a worried older sister.

"She's cute, though, isn't she? And I like older girls anyway." He says, leaving me petrified as he opens the door.

The situation obviously could only get worse: I see Yeonjun and Soobin sitting at the table, yes, them, from TXT.

He had said he didn't want to harass me, like the others, but that's exactly what he just did. He comes in, I stay in front of the door, he notices, looks at me and laughs.

"Noona, won't you come in?"

"W-Why them?" I just ask.

"Did you really think you were twisting everything just to make Heeseung happy? Noona, don't think of stupid things - he says, still laughing, sadistically. I feel naked right now. - I will always treat you well, but don't ever think you can be his. He's won a little too much, hasn't he?"

He.... really is a crazy kid.

It's not because of Heeseung that I said no to him, but why don't I deny it? Maybe because deep down, that's why, too? The point is that I just wanted to spend time normally with him... but since they are there, knowing that I am a host, I just can't do that. But Heeseung? Why is he talking about him?

Heeseung is not a nice person. I don't like him. It's not for him that I'm doing this but...

"I have nothing to do with him." I tell him through clenched teeth.

He smiles. "Do you know how many people in Korea have his number? - He pauses briefly as if to give me time to think about it, I lower my gaze in confusion. - I don't think he's really interested in you, though.... surely he wants to take possession of you, your body, and just for fun even your heart."

It hurts me what he says, but it shouldn't. "But what are you saying, Riki?"

"I'm doing this for your sake. You don't know him, he will always ask more of you."

I don't understand any more, my head is spinning. Even though we spoke softly, on the doorstep, I'm afraid those two heard us. Soobin is busy on his phone, but Yeonjun looks at us amused.

I feel really anxious.

"Although it won't seem real to you, given what's going to happen - says Riki, looking toward his friends - you're safe with me noona. If you trust me, you'll have more fun."

"Riki..." I don't know what to say.

"Are you two done? What, you don't want to have lunch with us?" Yeonjun calls us right back.

I sigh and prooced, defeat. I sit between Niki and Soobin, voluntarily putting myself far away from Yeonjun, who, however, is standing right in front of me. I try to look away, I'm not even listening to the conversation, I haven't even said hello.

"Did you bring her with you?" Cuts Soobin short, putting down his cell phone.

"Aren't you happy?" Riki smiles, carefree.

Yeonjun sensually curls his lips as he turns to me. "And are you happy?"

"Not at all." I reply, annoyed.

Heeseung may be a bastard, and he probably hurt Riki, but whatever Yeonjun is no better than him. Someone who enjoys rubbishing each other's insecurities with the intention of humiliating him cannot be a good person.

"How nice, you look different from last time." Soobin comments, drinking some water.

I lift my gaze annoyed but also inevitably honored to hear him say that, damn, he's really nice too. "There's no mask now, so I can be myself." I admit, bitterly amused.

"What masks? Are you saying that because you are a host?" Yeonjun asks.

Niki doesn't care for the conversation, looking over the restaurant menu. "Yes, now..."

"Isn't that a good thing? - He interrupts me, the boy from the other band. - This way you don't have to pretend you don't want to fuck with all of us. If you want to, we can just do it."

I look at Riki terrified but he doesn't give me a glance, and this not only annoys me but also worries me a lot. What does he mean? Isn't this going to be an ambush like Heeseung's?

"What do you want to eat, noona?" The japanese young man asks.

I look at him confused, he doesn't look at me but seems serene. "I would like to go home."

"During my shift, I choose what to do." He replies, relaxed.

I swallow terrified now, look at Yeonjun who is smiling, Soobin too! Why am I standing here? Why has the situation become so strange? What should I do now?

"R-Riki..."

"Noona trust me, nothing bad will happen to you." Having sensed that I am uncomfortable, that I am worried, he tries to reassure me failing miserably.

"Riki, I don't like... this." I tell him, my voice trembling.

"I'll have sashimi! All kinds." Exclaims the blond, Soobin, delighted.

"Do you like sashimi, noona?" Riki asks me again, looking at the menu.

I don't answer. Damn. Although my mouth keeps trying to reason with him, my mind, my belly, wishes for him to continue. This situation, unnaturally erotic and above all unbelievable, makes me horny.

"You should try ramen." Yeonjun says.

I swallow again, my mouth dry. I try to pour myself some water but Soobin anticipates me, grabbing the pitcher for me and pouring it into my glass. I thank with a quick nod, looking down low.

"Call me oppa, like you did to Yeonjun last time." Says the TXT leader.

is sobin, right? lol

I mumble offended, I won't. I don't even remember saying it. "No thanks?"

"You scared her - Soobin laughs, looking at his friend, "she was a fan of ours before you scared her."

Yeonjun smiles, shifting his gaze to the open menu on the table. "Instead, I think Heeseung has her stocky, that's why she's so nervous."

"Can't you keep it out of your talk?" It comes naturally to me to ask.

This time Niki lifts his gaze, and he doesn't look pleased. He looks at me, then snorts and returns to the menu. "No need to get worked up, noona. Nothing will change."

What does that mean? I know that even if I asked he wouldn't answer me directly, and I'm really still convinced that I'm going to refuse whatever is offered, but...seriously, it's hard while sitting at Yeonjun, Soobin, and Riki fucking Nishimura's table.

I can always ask Heeseung for help, but should I? Not to mention that if he knew, Sunghoon would never stop annoying me. What to do? What to do?

A good-looking young waiter enters the room; he is here to take orders. They all seem calm as they list the various dishes, but when the young man turns to me who haven't even opened the menu, they all seem to get a little tense: maybe they're afraid I might accuse them in front of this guy?

No, I'm not that crazy.

After all....

"What do you want to eat?" Riki asks me.

"I'm not hungry." I answer, annoyed. Actually, in the heat of thinking about sushi, sashimi, uramaki.... yes, I'm actually lying.

"Make a tasting course of everything - Soobin says confidently - do you like sashimi? Caviar? Or do you prefer cooked foods?"

"I...I like raw fish." I admit, under my breath, pouting.

I see out of the corner of my eye Yeonjun chuckle. "Yes, make it a mostly raw fish course, but put in some other stuff too. Some carbohydrates, the chef knows what we like."

"What would you like to drink?"

"I want this - says Yeonjun, pointing to the menu - two ... or three?" He asks the rest of the table.

"Make that two of those and a Brunello di Montalcino." Riki says, surprising me since it is an Italian wine and he even pronounced it right.

"I'll be right there." Says the waiter finally making a respectful bow before leaving the room, I stay staring in this direction for a long time.

"Have you ever tried it?" The japanese boy asks me.

I was sure it was a coincidence, but perhaps not. "What? The wine?"

"Yes."

"Why? Are you Italian?" Soobin then asks.

"Yes, it is." Yeonjun replies.

I glare at him. "I didn't even know it existed, however, I understood the name to be italian."

"I suspected so, since it costs two million won."

The blond boy, Soobin, glares at him. "Are you buying?"

"What cheap hyung." Riki mutters.

"They'll take a while, right? - Yeonjun suddenly asks, especially catching the attention of the other two. He picked up a pack of cigarettes, put one between his lips, and now looks at me. - I'm still not hungry... I should get some exercise?"

"Why don't you have a joint, t-then?" I wanted to sound tough, I wanted to sound stubborn and strong, but I ended up stuttering, making him laugh.

By now I can no longer misunderstand, I realized that everyone only thinks of one thing but deep down I don't even criticize them. When what's around you is beautiful, you want to appropriate it, you want to follow your instincts, and I understand that well since I find it really hard to resist these three, but...

Am I one of these things? In this life, can I simply be myself and not have to pay terrifying consequences?

I'm afraid not.

Yeonjun takes a long drag from his Marlboro Gold, then blows the smoke in my face. "Do you want to smoke?"

"No..." I sigh, but why do I keep answering him?

"Yah, don't smoke with the windows closed." Soobin moans and coughs, getting up from his chair.

I look at Niki, who is also looking at me. "What's up, noona?"

The blond man continues to approach, Yeonjun has also stood up, and they both come toward me. I get up too, backing away spontaneously, my body knows it's in danger.

"W-What are you doing?"

"In Italy you greet each other with kisses, don't you? - Laughs Yeonjun, who has already reached out and grabbed my wrist. - We didn't greet each other properly."

"Riki! - I call to him, as Soobin grabs my other wrist. - What are they doing? What do they want?"

"Just saying hello." He says, in an amused tone.

In the backpack my cell phone suddenly and providentially rings, and there are two possibilities: either it's Ester, or it's Heeseung. I should hope it's the latter, but in a way, as Yeonjun looks at me with thinned eyes and Soobin smiles sensually at me, maybe I hope it's Ester.

Riki gets up and without asking permission takes it, but doesn't look inside the bag. He sticks his hand in it until he finds it, but he shouldn't anyway.

"Star...boy? - He asks, amused. - Is that how he marked himself?"

"But who? The asshole?" Yeonjun also asks, laughing.

Soobin has suddenly placed his lips on my neck, tickling me, but I am forced to clench my thighs to put pressure on my pussy so as to stimulate it. I am horny and don't really react lucidly.

"Should I respond?" How the japanese amuses himself.

Even the little friend, the oldest of them all, is just amused. "No, we'll call him back in a while so he can hear."

It is a proposal, it's a very lucid plan. These-these guys are sadists, I feel like I'm inside a video game, it's like a confusing, random sea battle, with a good dose of stupidity.

Soobin licks my fucking earlobe, I'm shaking.

"Come on. Call me oppa."

"N.. - I try to say, but just then Yeonjun starts squeezing my nipple with his index finger and thumb, turning it, as if playing with it, my knees almost give out though. - Stop..."

"Shall I push him away?" Soobin whispers in my ear.

What is it with this guy today? I really find him irresistible.

"Yah! I'm even older, you can't do anything."

Soobin chuckles, then with his lips bites my neck as his hand slides between my thighs. "Ah...you're also wet...then it's not true that you don't want to."

Niki laughs, I want to kill him but I'm not lucid enough to focus on that as Soobin is using his fingers on my clit, while Yeonjun licks, bites, and sucks my nipples.

"Aish... noona, you are so shameless." Says Riki, hearing me panting because of these two.

How nice, I love the scent of their skin, their hair, I love how we have different touches...similar to Heeseung's and.... Sunghoon... maybe?

Soobin is actually a little more delicate, but thinking about it and that's how I imagine it is to do it in a normal way with Sunghoon. Elegant, irresistible.

"Y-You like whatc... ah! - I exclaim, when Soobin slipped a finger inside me, fuck...it's...I simply want more and more. - Watching.. w-while.. I being fucked?"

Oh fuck. Riki Nishimura, this gorgeous guy, he bites his lip in front of me and I feel like I'm losing control, especially after I see him touching his crotch, swollen, visibly swollen.

"And you like to have everyone use you? All the time?" He asks, as his cock becomes more and more evidently outlined.

Soobin laughs, Yeonjun too. "You are all... pigs."

"But you are the sluttiest." Says the older man, biting my ear.

I gasp as Soobin sticks his second finger in.

"Now I'm going to call Heeseung hyung. - Riki laughs, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling out something extraordinary, perhaps the most legendary creature ever spotted: an anaconda. - Talk to it, you can even tell it everything."

"R-R... Ri... - I can't speak, Soobin's hand vibrates like sex toys, I feel like I'm going crazy, and then Yeonjun is practically undressing me. - Ri...Riki.... no..."

"Noona - he says, moving closer. - You should understand me."

"N-No I don't understand you!"

"Let's make him despair a little since he likes you so much."

"He... - I gasp, already tired, I don't know how Soobin can maintain this pace without getting tired -- He..he doesn't...like me..." I say that my voice trembles unnaturally.

"Of course not - Riki replies - he only targeted you because Sunghoon likes you." He says this with such serenity.

"Really?" Yeonjun asks, breaking away from my skin.

"Yes, he has really lost his mind."

But what is he saying? He hasn't understood a thing. No...even if Heeseung is terrible, it can't be as he says, and it's not true that Sunghoon likes me, it's not true that he has lost his mind. It doesn't make sense, but I'm too involved.

"But... R...Riki..."

"But isn't Sunghoon dating Wonyoung? He seemed like a jerk but I didn't think so with girls too." Soobin asks, equally quiet as his hand automatically moves like a crank.

"Indeed it's strange." Admits the japanese man.

"We can still call him, though." Remember Yeonjun, what a bastard.

In my almost unconscious state, I didn't even notice that Niki has.... Niki beat all his hyung, for sure. His... dick.. is really long, big, he could grab it with both hands and it still wouldn't cover him.

It can't be that serious, I'm obviously dreaming.

These damn idols. Who designs them like this?

Niki picks up my phone, however he notices that has to enter the code and looks at me. I am still in the hands of these two who use me as they wish, while Yeonjun has lifted my shirt and now, favored by Soobin who has finally stopped his hand, pulls down my shorts skirt.

Fuck, I am completely naked, on my breasts and between my legs, in front of their ravenous eyes, the idiotic eyes of two horny men. I must be an idiot, too, because I damn well am one, too.

"Please Riki, don't call-ah! - I gasp, after Yeonjun sticks his head between my legs, starting to lick me really intensely. Oh my god. - Don't... Don't..."

"If you don't want him to find out - says the little bastard boy, masturbating shamelessly in front of me - don't moan."

I know, I'm a horrible person, he's just a little boy, and I shouldn't even have the thought to look at him, to watch his tense expression as he bites his lips, emitting small, guttural breaths of pleasure.

"What's the code?" He asks in concentration.

"N..I won't tell you!" I gasp, desperate, as my knees now give way in earnest because of Yeonjun, but they both hold me up so that I don't fall.

"You don't want me to tell them to go hard, do you?" He asks, smiling as he continues to touch himself. Jesus.

"Ri...ki... you said...t-that..."

"You should call him." Soobin proposes, as he kisses my neck and is so good at it.

"Maybe I should."

"N-No!" I try to say, again, but Yeonjun is eating me up, squeezing my buttocks to get closer to his face, and it seems really impossible for me to resist him now.

My humors are running down the sides of his mouth, he is not disgusted, in fact he continues with more eagerness. I can't help thinking about when Heeseung did it, the way Yeonjun touches me is very similar to his, but less aggressive.

And Soobin, too, who uses his lips to bite and kiss me, never coming close to my lips, can't help but remind me of Sunghoon, who wouldn't kiss me until the very end last night.

Riki smiles amusedly. "You're enjoying this so much, aren't you, noona? You make me feel jealous."

He says this as Yeonjun sticks his fingers in, continuing to lick. "A-Ah... Riki..." I call out to him, but I don't know what I want to say.

He looks at me in silence, then starts the call.

He puts it on speakerphone, brings it closer to me. Heeseung doesn't answer right away, he lets it ring three times as I try to compose myself terrified, but also unable to push Yeonjun away. No, I don't want to and should not point this out to him.

Maybe Niki is right, and he is faking it, but if not, knowing about Yeonjun and me would really hurt. I don't want to see him sad, even if he's just pretending to be sad.

"Where are you? - The older asks after taking the call.

Niki mumbles, it makes him laugh to look at me. He pulls the phone closer to me, I breathe as quietly as possible. - Yah, did you call me not to talk?"

Niki sneers but when he meets my gaze he seems to become strangely serious. "Hyung, why did you call Amanda? And why did you give her your number?" He asks him, continuing to touch himself.

"Does it concern you? Where is she?"

"Here, next to me." Says the younger.

Soobin chuckles, but fortunately Heeseung doesn't seem to notice. "Why doesn't she answer me? Put her on."

"Noona, Heeseung wants to talk to you." He says, as if nothing is wrong, bringing the cell phone closer to my mouth.

I bite my lips hard as Yeonjun uses his two fingers to make me enjoy more and more, I can't even move freely because Soobin is sucking my breasts, kneading them.

"Where are you?" Heeseung asks again, as I do not answer.

I breathe through my nose, but it's hard to contain the moans, it's hard to speak normally. "At...lunch..." I whisper, avoiding as much as possible to expose my real voice.

"Why are you talking so quietly? What's going on?"

"No ... it's just t..that ... - I bite my lip even harder, because Yeonjun has started sucking my clitoris and seriously, it's wonderful, but I can't do that to Heeseung, so I force myself. - It's all... good..."

"Where are you? Don't make me ask again."

"I don't know... - fuck, a really suspicious sigh comes out of me, he seems to notice since he remains voluntarily silent - what's its name..."

"Is Niki doing something to you? You had... You had said..."

"What had you said?" Niki then asks.

"No! N-No, isn't...anything!" I say this before plugging my mouth, with both hands, Yeonjun continues but Soobin has moved away to unbutton his jeans.

No, it can't end like this, not again. But I don't want Heeseung to hear either, I don't want him to know, no matter what.

(Wow... his dick is really impressive, too.)

"Really? Can you swear that Niki is not touching you now?" He asks, in the tone of someone who sounds really nervous.

"T-To swear!" I reply in a rush, after all, it's true.

Heeseung remains silent several seconds, then sighs. "When... when are you coming back?" His voice is different, it sounds like-he believed me.

Although I am literally losing consciousness because of Yeonjun, I still have an ounce of energy to be pleasantly surprised by his reaction. He... he believed me, even though I technically did not lie.

Niki pulls the phone away from me, looking annoyed. "I'm hanging up hyung, have a nice day." Then he ends the call while looking at me expressionless.

I look away. "Are you... - panting, tired - happy?"

"Not much - he snorts, watching as Soobin grabs my wrist to bring it closer to his arousal. - That's enough now, hyung."

"What?" Soobin asks surprised and also amused, he has already started using my hand to masturbate -- wow, that's really thick.

"You got it, that's enough now."

"But if I haven't even come." He answers very, very honestly.

Yeonjun doesn't give a shit, he keeps devouring me and I keep enjoying because of him. He seems to have found a taste for it.

The waiter who has been taking orders enters the room, along with a cart. He does not immediately notice what is going on at the edge of the room, but when he does, he is paralyzed.

"No knocking?" Soobin asks, visibly irritated, looking him seriously in the eyes as he pleasures himself with my hand in front of him.

"I-I apologize. It was not my...intention...I'm very sorry. I'll leave now!" He says, bowing.

Riki watches him in silence a few seconds, then smiles. "You're here now, finish your work."

This choice pleases the two boys very much, as while the young waiter is setting up the table, casting curious but also frightened glances at me, the two singers continue to blatantly harass me. Soobin uses my hand to enjoy, Yeonjun offers me his tongue to do the same, all while I just can't contain myself.

Even being watched and humiliated like this, I enjoy it. It's terrible.

"Noona stop moaning like that - says Riki, biting the corner of his mouth in amusement - you're getting the waiter hard too."

He changed his mind quickly, the little boy.

When the staff boy is done, he quickly heads for the exit but Soobin, who didn't seem to be focused on him at all since he keeps looking at me, groping me while physically forcing me to masturbate him, calls out to him.

"You're not going to say anything, right? - He asks him. - You're not even to look at her face, understand? That way you'll forget it right away."

"A-absolutely yes sir."

"Good, now get out. "

He executes and I see Riki observing his hyung quite surprised. "That's enough now, though."

"What?" Soobin asks again.

Yeonjun also pulls away this time and I feel like I can catch my breath. "What?" He also sidles up.

"It seems to me that noona has come enough." He says, as if it were a very normal speech.

"Wait, is that what you meant?"

Yeonjun wipes his mouth, covered in my humors. "No, I want to fuck her."

"Don't think about it." Sighs Riki, quietly moving closer to me and putting my clothes back on.

I feel like I'm about to collapse, to pass out. I am rehearsed by the intensity of the pleasure Yeonjun and partly Soobin have given me, but I am shocked, to say the least, by this unexpected turn of events. Niki..... no, Riki changed his mind.

Did he do it for me or for him? Certainly not for Heeseung. What if he saw this coming from the beginning? No, he couldn't have known things would turn out this way... he couldn't have done it for me. It's a strange thing to "give" to someone.

"What the fuck?" Complains Yeonjun, who has been kneeling until now and getting up has taken to stretching.

"Sorry noona, were they too rough?" He asks, in that deep voice of his.

I take a step toward him, unintentionally, but he opens his arms, as if he is giving me permission to access them and it appears to me as a solid wall to lean against, I am clearly flattered and shaken by this. I want to hug him but.... maybe I shouldn't.

"Are you tired? You can lean in." He tells me.

I swallow as I stare at him probably looking exhausted. "Don't be nice to me, Riki."

He twists his lips, as if considering what to say. "I will be because I want you to be nice to me."

Damn kid, your words... they make me feel good, and because of that, I feel terribly bad right after. Riki you are absurd, I just don't understand you, but even so... I seriously collapse in his arms.

He holds me, he's solid, but he doesn't hold me. To me, that's fine too. After all, it's already too much anyway.

"Why did you make them stop?" I ask with my face resting against his really wide, really hard chest.

"I didn't think it would bother me. Right now, though, I just want to fuck you alone. I want be the only see you, noona."

I flinch away, me speechless. "Riki!"

"Don't lie noona - he comes closer this time - I saw how you were looking it all the time, you can't wait to ride on it too, can you? - He touches my ear with his lips, I can hear his fucking giggle echoing in my fucking brain, while of course, the blood is pumping hard in my veins. - You were being enjoyed by two others, but you were only looking at my cock. You've never seen one like that have you?" He says this and then walks away, serenely.

"Y-You really are a pervert, you know that?" I look away embarrassed, how did I sustain him the whole time while he was saying those things?

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, you just happened into the wrong dorm."

Yes, I noticed.

today is my birthday so i am giving you a present: post today and not tomorrow! hahahah sorry

more polling, although the same question... since we are further along in the story, i wonder how if the initial percentage has changed

the ending of the story is already decided, and i already have the plot for the next ff

NEXT CHAPTER:

[froggibus]

Valentine's Day HCs - Ashe, Brigitte, D.VA, Kiriko, Mercy, Widowmaker

Includes: Ashe, Brigitte, D.Va, Kiriko, Mercy and Widowmaker

Summary: what your OW gf would do for you for Valentine's day

CW: gn! reader, fluff, just some cutesy hcs of what your OW s/o would do for Valentine's, some allusion to the lore

pt2 of my valentine's day content for you guys! i was up til 3 trying to finish these but kinda gave up ngl and went to bed but i mostly finished up!

OW Men Ver. + Valentine's 2023 Masterlist

————

Ashe:

acts like she’s Too Cool™️ for Valentine’s Day 

but on the inside she’s secretly making a big deal of it cause all she really wants is to make you happy and show how much she loves you!!

definitely gets Bob’s help to get everything and set it all up

she’s so nonchalant about it that you’re shocked when she shows up at your place with a bouquet of flowers 

“get your jacket, I got somethin to show you.”

you reluctantly follow her out, pleasantly surprised that she came through for you

she takes you back to her place where her and Bob have practically completely redecorated 

there’s sweet smelling candles lining every flat surface, rose petals across the floor and hearts hanging from the ceiling

waiting for the two of you at the coffee table are dishes of all your favorite snacks

she definitely had Bob make you chocolate covered strawberries 

she feeds them to you too with this cute little blush across her cheeks and nose

also there’s champagne

fruity bubbly pink champagne that she seems to have endless bottles of 

and when you’re all warm and giggly and drunk, cuddled up in her arms, she lets her tough exterior drop 

“oh sweet pea, i think you’re gonna be the death of me”

Brig: 

she’s so nervous!!!

like she really wants this to go good and show you how much she appreciates you, but she doesn’t really know how

probably makes the mistake of asking her dad and Reinhardt for advice 

and after Reinhardt suggests “a really big hammer” she decides to go her own way with it

spends days tinkering in her workshop to make something for you

of course Mitzi is purring and rolling all over her tools while she’s trying to build 

accidentally ignored you because she’s so caught up in her work

she finishes it just in time for Valentine’s Day

you plan on surprising her for Valentines so you’re surprised when she shows up with a little box for you

she’s practically vibrating while she waits for you to open it 

when you do, you see it’s metal figurines of the two of you on your first date 

the sheer amount of detail in it makes you gasp

there’s a plaque on the front that says “The Moment I Knew I Loved You”

you look up at her with big teary eyes and throw your arms around her 

she hugs you super tightly 

“so you like it, right? Cause I was worried it was too much or not enough and I just—I really wanted this to go good for us.”

DVA:

she’s such a dork she probably plans out this whole day for the two of you together 

she’s kinda nervous taking you out in case she gets mobbed by paparazzi 

but she really wants to show you a good time so she sets her fear aside

takes you to the shops downtown to get  cute matching pyjamas for your sleepover tonight 

you guys stop to get hotteoks for a snack too!! 

they’re one of her favorite snacks so you treat her to one 

then you guys head to the grocery store to pick up some snacks and drinks for the night 

queue Hana stocking up on Mountain Dew (but she gets the Spark kind to fit into the Valentine’s Day theme)

you guys get home and build a little pillow and blanket Fort on the floor with all your snacks and stuff

Hana turns on her console and the two of you end up playing games together 

definitely some sort of cutesy two player game where you guys can work as a team 

and even if you make mistakes, Hana just kisses your cheek and carries you through

“so, how was this for Valentine’s Day? Did I win?” 

Kiriko:

she is definitely the type to want to do something for Valentine’s  

but gets so busy with work and crime fighting that she just forgets 

so she plans a date for the two of you at the last minute 

gets you a box of gourmet donuts from her favorite shop and heads over to your house on her bike

she was kinda nervous to ask you to be her Valentine cause she’s never really had one

plus she’s worried what she’s planned won’t be enough

but all of that melts away when she picks you up and sees your smile at the cute little fox donuts she gives you

she doesn’t let on what she has planned, but she has her bike waiting outside with an extra helmet for you

she actually takes you all the way across town to a karaoke/ramen bar!

they’re doing a Valentine’s Special for karaoke where its duets only, and it only takes a second of your girlfriend making puppy dog eyes at you to get you up on the stage

she surprises you by choosing one of your favorite duet songs and having near perfect choreography

her dancing and singing is just so fun and cute that it’s infectious and you start trying to dance with her

even if you stumble a bit she still thinks its adorable

also everyone in the restaurant loves you guys

after that, you guys have a few drinks and some yummy ramen before she surprises you with a promise ring

its just a simple silver band with a blue jewel (like the colour of her fox) engraved into it

“I know it’s not much…but I wanted you to always have a piece of me with you. I have the fox spirit to guide me, so I thought maybe you could have something to guide you.”

Mercy:

she’s a busy, busy woman, but she’ll fight to have time off so she can spend it with you 

very traditional as far as her dates go, but that doesn’t mean boring by any means

she’s super organized too, so she’ll plan everything ahead of time to make sure it all goes off without a hitch

definitely splurges and gets you a box of super yummy Swiss chocolates 

I feel like she would definitely get you some sort of jewellery too, like a necklace with wings or something 

she has a dinner reservation at a super romantic, intimate restaurant 

she leaves you a cute little gift bag on your bed for when you get home, and its just a super nice outfit for you to wear out

you’re super excited for what she has planned, and that only gets better when she comes to pick you up

she’s wearing a silky black slip dress and heals, dressed to the absolute nines

honestly she looks good enough to eat

you guys take a cab to the restaurant so you can thoroughly enjoy it and actually drink

Angela picks out a delicious red wine for the two of you to share over dinner

she definitely holds your hand across the table and runs her thumbs over them

the food is amazing and you guys have just a little too much wine over dinner

Angela holds her alcohol well though and manages to tough it out until you get home 

she wanted to surprise you with gifts, but didn’t want to do it in public so she could actually enjoy your reaction to them

probably the one night of the year she lets herself get a little more kinky in bed too lol

“How was it, darling? I wanted to give you a date you deserve.”

Widowmaker:

she hasn’t celebrated a single Valentine’s Day since before Gerard died 

he was the only person she ever had any desire to celebrate with, and because of what Talon did to her, she never had a chance again

until she meets you of course

she probably doesn’t celebrate it with you until you’ve been together for a while either

but when she’s ready, she wants to go all out 

she makes reservations at the best restaurant in France (and spares no expense)

she picks you up in a limo, the back filled with candy hearts and kisses, with a fridge stocked with rosé and champagne 

she pours you a glass when you get in, her eyes taking you in

“you look stunning, my love.”

by the time you get to the restaurant, you’re a little tipsy and completely flustered

she orders for you, getting you her favorite dish (and it’s quite possibly the most delicious thing you’ve had in your whole life)

she definitely splits dessert with you too

she feeds you little spoonfuls 

takes you back to her place for the night and shows you her favorite movie as a girl

“thank you for tonight, mon amour. you are the warmth of my life.”

[deathblacksmoke]

Dramamine—Part 10

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo

Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.

CW: light angst, brief crying, self-doubt, mostly just fluffy cute boy things, oral sex (m receiving)

*Content warnings are updated by chapter*

Word Count: 2.5K

Author's Note: final part before the epilogue <3 huge thank you to everyone who's read and enjoyed this little series and massive thank you to my friends for their support, brainstorming, handholding, etc.

dividers by @cafekitsune 💐

He feels a little silly being so nervous about this. The hard part should be over — he’s already gotten Noah back — but tonight feels daunting. As he stands outside Noah’s door with a bag full of groceries, he feels shaky on his feet and afraid to knock.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he reaches for it, happy to kill time and put this off. It has a bit of the opposite effect, though, when he sees it’s from Autumn.

He had to beg her to let them have the apartment to themselves for the evening. He’ll owe her for ages, and he’s reminded that Noah’s probably behind the door sulking about being left alone on a Friday night.

I can see you on the doorbell camera. Don’t be weird.

When the door swings open before he’s even done knocking and Noah’s on the other side of it, everything settles. Nick doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way Noah’s gaze can ease his nerves so simply.

“What are you doing here?” Noah asks, stepping aside to let Nick in without a second thought. He doesn’t seem at all unhappy about Nick’s arrival, and a gentle hand on Nick’s arm stops him from moving far past the entryway. He sighs into it when Noah brings their lips together, feeling his lips curl up into a smile against his own.

“I was going to make us a nice dinner,” Nick responds. He can’t stop himself from leaning back in for another kiss when Noah’s eyes light up. “Treat you to a proper first date.”

His nerves kick up again as he lets Noah lead him into the kitchen. He’s not used to this, and he’s so out of practice. He’s certainly no chef, but Noah fixes him with the sweetest look when he hops up onto the counter, pleased to be in Nick’s way the entire time. There’s nothing in him that wants to be annoyed, or feel inconvenienced. Instead he feels an unbearable warmth in his chest as he starts unloading the bags, avoiding eye contact for the fear his face is beet red with the adoration he holds for this boy.

“So, what are you making me?” Noah asks, legs swinging like a child.

“Here, taste this,” Nick says, offering the spoon to Noah, who accepts it gratefully. He makes a pleased little sound and Nick feels his stomach swoop. “It’s good?”

It’s not a complicated sauce, just a basic marinara he found online, but he loves making Noah happy. He loves how easy he is to please, although he wishes he had to try a little harder.

“Really good, Nicky,” Noah responds, scooting closer on the counter as if he doesn’t mind being in the middle of everything. He’s very much in the way but Nick can’t find it in himself to mind, not when he gets to have Noah this close.

Satisfied that their dinner is mostly done, he starts unloading the other bag — mint, lime, sugar, club soda, white rum, and his shaker. 

When he looks over at Noah, there’s a confused expression painted on his face.

“What’s all this for?” Noah asks.

“Thought I’d make mojitos,” Nick responds, suddenly feeling shy, a little unsure. Maybe the moment hadn’t made as much of an impression on Noah as it had on Nick. “Can you grab me some ice?”

Noah’s face shifts from confusion to self-satisfaction. Nick wants to roll his eyes, but he can’t. He’s too pleased that he made Noah happy.

“I’m not making you a mojito, pretty boy,” Noah mocks — Nick does roll his eyes then.

“Well, that was before,” he reasons. He leans over for a kiss on the cheek. He just can’t help it. “Ice, please?”

The plates lay forgotten on the coffee table. Noah seems happy, sated, resting himself on Nick with his half-finished second mojito in hand. Nick feels an all-consuming calm, like he wouldn’t mind staying here with him, on his sofa, for as long as Noah wants him.

“Oh, I got you something,” Noah says, eyes suddenly wide and sparkling as he lifts his head from Nick’s shoulder. “Well, I found something I think you might like. Do you want it?” 

He can’t imagine saying no to him, not when he’s this excited and fidgety. He finds himself nodding, giving a small smile before Noah is up and disappearing into his bedroom. 

Noah’s nerves are evident when he comes back out, holding something small in his hand. Nick feels himself getting nervous, too, but he puts on a brave face for Noah. Noah seems to settle, at least a little bit, when he meets Nick’s eyes. 

Without sitting back down, he holds his hand out, presenting it to Nick. 

“For your Jasmine box,” Noah says, shifting back and forth on his feet. There’s a long moment that Nick just stares at Noah’s hands, and when he looks up at him, his eyes are wide with something less like excitement and more like terror. Nick places a soothing hand on Noah’s thigh, telling him it’s okay, before taking the item from his hand.

It’s a photograph he hasn’t seen before, but he remembers the moment so vividly. It was Autumn’s 30th birthday, when she had come up to them with her disposable camera, drunk and stumbling, and told the two of them to pose. It was so shortly before it all went bad, but everything was still so good then. Jazz hadn’t hesitated before grabbing his face and planting a kiss on his cheek for the camera. He’d felt warm everywhere. If he tries, he can still feel her lips on his skin.

“Noah,” he breathes, feeling tears prick at his eyes but not wanting to scare him off. He doesn’t know what to do, whether to break down in front of him or just hug him and say thank you. He doesn’t know where to find the words for how grateful he feels.

“Aut found it in her room when she was cleaning up. I asked her if I could give it to you,” Noah tells him, somehow more shy than before as he sinks to the floor in front of Nick, placing a shaky hand on Nick’s knee. There’s a look in his eyes more hopeful than he’s ever seen, and all Nick knows to do is reach out for him. “Is it okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” Nick responds, taking Noah’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers. “Can you come up here for me, please?”

There's bravery in Noah when he rises from the floor. Though unsteady on his feet, he still lowers himself into Nick’s lap. Instinctually, Nick places a hand on his lower back, drawing him closer.

“Jasmine was really important to Autumn while I was gone. I’m really grateful she had someone,” Noah says, voice quivering. Nick doesn’t stop himself this time from reaching out, wiping the few fallen tears from Noah’s cheeks. “I wish I could have known her better.”

There’s something in his eyes when Nick brushes away the few strands of hair that have fallen in Noah’s face. He can spot a distant sadness in his expression, a downturn at the edges of his mouth. He presses his fingers into Noah’s sides, needing to see that smile and delighting in it when he gets it.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?” Nick asks, a little amazed when he allows himself to think about it. He never imagined he’d find himself in this position again — another chance, deserving of something so wonderful, someone so wonderful. Noah buries his face in his neck and it warms Nick from the inside out. “How did I get so lucky, huh?”

Noah squirms a little in his lap and it jostles something awake in him. Kisses are pressed to his neck and he swoons, sinks back into the couch as he pulls Noah as close as possible.

His mind takes him back to the last time he was on his couch, the way that Noah had treated him so nice, the way Nick had abandoned him because of it. He’s done his best to fix this, but there’s still that one piece that’s so wholly unrepaired. He doesn’t know that he’d be able to stand it, if the scenario had been reversed. He hates to put so much weight on what had happened, yet there’s a stomach-turning guilt when he envisions the weeks that Noah sat on this couch with the memory of what Nick had done.

He slips his hand beneath Noah’s t-shirt, grazes his knuckles along the expanse of his skin. When the scarred skin of Nick’s knuckles meets the ultra-soft skin of Noah’s middle, it’s not quite as scary as it had been, letting Noah see all of him. He finds he wants himself to be seen, to be known. There’s a nagging, vibrating something beneath his skin, but he lets himself push it away this time.

Noah’s hand cupping his cheek brings him back into the moment. Noah’s lips on his set a fire beneath his skin. He needs to fix this — he needs to repair this one final thing.

“Noah,” Nick breathes, dragging his palms down over Noah’s thighs, fingertips dancing toward the waistband of his sweats. His eyes sparkle, and God, Nick would do anything to keep those eyes clear and bright and on him. “Baby— baby, can I?”

The nerves evident on Noah’s face do little to calm the ones bubbled up in Nick, but the small, barely-there nod he’s given before Noah leans in for another kiss gives him the answer he needs. 

His hands are shaky as they inch under Noah’s waistband, as he finally gets his hands on the soft skin there, like he’s been dreaming of all this time.

He loses himself to it, time slowing as they kiss. He could stay happy like this, hands wandering over every inch of skin he can find, roasting hot everywhere Noah touches him. Noah’s pretty little gasp as Nick’s fingers drag across his cock bring him back to reality.

He vibrates with nervous energy as he pulls Noah’s face away from his own, hand cupping Noah’s cheek and entranced by how glassy his eyes already are.

“Can I do something for you?” Nick asks, to which he receives a shaky nod in return. “You wanna hop up for me, love?”

Noah’s quick to do as he’s asked and it sets a fire alight in him, a need to make this good for him. He gets on his knees between Noah’s legs and his nerves kick up. He’s so out of practice, but he’s sure in his actions when he slides Noah’s sweats down over his hips. He looks up at him, not sure what he’s looking for in his gaze, but gaining confidence when Noah gives him a nod, threading his fingers through his hair.

His head empties — everything he’s ever known about being with someone is gone, because this isn’t just someone, this is Noah. He loses himself in the expanse of bare skin he’s presented with, all so new to him. He can’t help it as he lets his hands wander, fingertips grazing Noah’s tummy, his thighs, laser-focused on the way he tenses and relaxes beneath Nick’s touch. He has to do something, but finds himself so transfixed with everything he never thought he’d get to have.

He carries his mind back to the last time he was here, when he was on this couch and Noah was so polite and pretty on his knees between Nick’s spread legs. He tries to replicate it — his hand wraps loosely around Noah and the whimper he receives makes his vision blur.

He can’t keep his eyes off Noah as he sinks his mouth onto him. Maybe he wants to keep himself grounded in this moment, or maybe he wants to memorize every little shift in Noah’s expression. As much as he wants to let himself get lost in it, he can’t look away.

Where Nick’s hand rests on Noah’s thigh, Noah’s hand rests centimeters away, twitching fingers as if he’s itching to close that gap. Nick’s gaze shifts between Noah’s face, the anxiety in his expression, and his trembling hand. He knows Noah is nervous, scared to close that gap — Nick can’t blame him, not after last time.

He closes the gap himself, slides his fingers under Noah’s and feels as everything in Noah relaxes. His rhythm falters, only for a moment, as he considers how he wants this to continue.

He wants to be here, on his knees, a small consolation for what he did the last time Noah did the same for him. But as he allows himself to look at Noah, at his glassy eyes and his pretty open mouth, he needs to be closer. They’re touching, but not nearly enough. He needs to kiss him, to blanket him, to taste his gasp as he finishes over his tummy and Nick’s fingers.

As if able to read Nick’s mind, Noah gives his hand a gentle tug. When Nick meets his eyes, there’s a glint that Nick reads a little like desperation. He’s sure it’s the same desperation he feels.

He doesn’t take his hand off of Noah as he stands, scrambling into Noah’s lap and regaining his rhythm. Noah presses their mouths together and Nick is quick to lick into his mouth, slapping his hand away when Noah goes for the button on his pants.

“No, just—” Nick starts, taking a deep breath and resetting when it’s clear his actions are about to be misread. He cups his hand over Noah’s face, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a smile into his cheek. “Just let me do this for you, yeah? I just want this to be for you.”

Noah nods, losing himself in their kiss again, bucking his hips gently into Nick’s grasp. He can feel it, in the way he tenses, in the way his thrusts go a little sloppy and uncoordinated.

He catches the pretty gasp on his tongue when Noah rushes to lift his shirt up as his cum spills over Nick’s fingers and onto his belly.

As Noah catches his breath, Nick busies himself looking around for anything to clean him up with that wouldn’t require detaching himself. He lands only on the cloth napkins they used for dinner, and he knows Autumn would make him buy an entire new set.

“We should go get you cleaned up,” he says instead, though the idea of getting up and having any space between them sounds dreadful.

“In a second,” Noah responds, his hand curling around the back of Nick’s neck to draw him in for a kiss, stopping just short to mutter against his lips. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Nick can’t think of anything he wants more, nodding as he lets Noah pull him the rest of the way in.

tagging: @concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @agravemisstake

@monotoniscreaming @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @jiizzy @screamsinsilver

@iknownothingpeople @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical @sitkowski @baddestomens

@itsafullmoon @collapsedglasshouses @somebodyels3 @broken0mens

[raspberryberyl]

ah I love the dsmp and some people (mainly cc's) are killing me.

I had to watch the cctommy video because idk ocd or i just felt like it would kill me if i didn't watch.

Tommy was usual tommy fashion, and the video was good! Don't get me wrong. I love that he didn't say it was cringe, and was nostalgic and positive about it. That he had good things to say.

I believe and want to believe in my heart that cctommy really cares about the dsmp and ctommy. Sometimes it feels like cc!eret , cc!quackity, cc!tommy are the only ones that really care. That care about the audience that they've created, that try to cultivate it. I want to believe that others care too but its these three that i feel are the most vocal about it.

But watching the new Tommy video, i feel slightly hurt. I know Tommy is just being Tommy fashion and being silly and "annoying", and maybe he's not being completely full hearted and serious because he wants to appease fans that do think it was cringe (which seems to be quite a bit, mostly twt).

But i just feel like, is it so hard to believe that people would care about the story you created? Especially one that is so unique and tackles such raw and real emotions and experiences. for my fellow ctommy fans, its family, home, abuse, suicidality, etc.

Maybe it's because it just doesn't feel real to the cc, that they made this popular series. Maybe it's because to a lot of them it really was just a game and goofing off. But to us fans, it was so much more. We poured ourselves into it. And it hurts to be treated like a joke and "cringe".

I feel grateful to cctommy for saying the positive things he did, but should I? Should i be appreciative that he treats us with bare minimum respect... like yes I know he cares, I think he does, but his joking attitude about it all makes me feel like a joke.

I did not like the constant sexual innuendos about c!tommy. was the foreplay one a little funny? yeah maybe. but describing the classic hurt c!tommy sigh/grunt/thing like a moan? no, i did not like that.

Maybe he's coping with humor. as other people pointed out cctommy was constantly sexualized on that server. And as he said he is an adult now that can joke about it anyway he likes because it is HIM.

I also did not like him describing ctommy as "a bad guy." ctommy had flaws, he was not perfect, that's one of the reasons he is so great, but he was not a bad guy. I could see c!tommy thinking he is the bad guy, but cctommy is the writer and should know better. I don't like being told that an abuse victim who is so very human, is "the bad guy". I might only partly forgive him for this because he talked about how c!tubbo (and cc!tubbo), was often an ignored victim and character that deserved to shine.

I did not like the "making fun of " suicide. Which is a major problem the dsmp writing has.

I am forever hurt by how the cc treat us. I devoted so much of my time and energy to this just to feel like a joke, just for them to act like they don't care. Well i choose to continue to care, because i really and truly do.

I've said it before but cc!ranboo was my main main, i watched every stream, even the non dsmp ones. But with how they treated c!ranboo, i just can barely bring myself to watch them. i did not get into generation loss, it hurts too much. I respect Ranboo for going with his passions and not doing things just to appease fans, but i am forever hurt that he had so little care in the end for something that so many of us cared about.

Most cc are just silent about their dsmp days and have no comment. But then others joke about how the fans cared? cc!puffy i was devoted and excited for your lore, and you failed to deliver it and now treat us like a joke.

And other cc where it just feels like they are trying to milk it for content, don't get me started.

And I'll be honest, I am still sick of all this dancing around the subject in the room that is the problematic cc. I get the cc don't owe us their views, and probably don't want to further drama. But Tommy can you just say you don't like or support Dream! Can any cc be open about it! Tommy stop giving me heart attacks by putting dt in your thumbnails 😭

And yeah this was really long and rant/venty, I feel like i forgot some stuff that i wanted to say so i will just add it later if it comes to mind.

But my point is, people cared about the dsmp. Some people moved on, and many of us are here and still thriving. People care, so stop being surprised that we do. Stop treating us like a joke.

If you're going to mention it cc, be respectful, kind, and maybe don't say anything if you don't really care about it.

the dsmp had many issues, no one is denying, but people cared.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi there! I wanted to say that I love your work and I’m really enjoying seeing all the good shit you put out! Tbh me and my twin have been eating up the story with We’ar-ow! We’ve sorta created our own character to fit in as the reader, and we chat about each update after you post them! It’s a fun little book club in a way! If you ever end up publishing any books, be sure to tell! I love your writing style it’s so distinct and enjoyable!

Also! I wonder how yautja would react to a real short s/o (imma dude and being 5’2 sucks a lot, my mom had to fuck a short king sigh) I had to grab something next to my couch that’s only 2 feet off the ground and I almost flipped my body over reaching. I can’t even wrap my arms around my knees when sitting either

I am able to reach a lot of small things hidden around my house, and I’m really good at anything small with my hands like sewing- tbh that’s the only upside

also quick yautja question- do you think they’re able to produce twins or triplets? Mostly asking cuz I’m one! :p

also I’m so thankful for you writing for readers who aren’t female! it really warms my heart <3 sometimes it can hard to find non female readers and x male readers help with my dysphoria

Short King

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x Mas!Reader

Word Count: 692

Summary: After the countless times you've fallen off of places or even found yourself somewhere you're not suppose to be, your wonderful mates have gotten you a step stool. Uihoy understands the frustrations himself. But he doesn't want you getting hurt.

Author Note: I'm so thankful and love this message so much. And the fact you chat about my writings?! Seeing this message for the first had me squealing and kicking my feet like a school girl. I hope one day I'll publish books but for now, I stick to writing fanfics about being dicked down by aliens.

P.s. Gonna be honest, I never knew how many AMABs liked Yautjas. I'm used to fangirls since I'm one myself. But I'm happy to help fill in the hole for the lack of AMAB writtens

Masterlist

Ao3

Knowing some Yautjas out there, they have a size kink. So you being much smaller than them goes burr for them.

They can also wrap themselves around you easier. It makes for the best cuddling sessions because they can probably almost encase you completely. That way, they can protect you better!

They also wouldn’t treat too much different either. They might ensure your items are closer to the ground so you don’t have to climb as much to reach them.

A step stool around either their ship or hut on Yautja Prime is necessary. They wouldn’t want you to go without it either. Less climbing means less danger for you! Safe on the ground floor where you can’t bust your head open.

After one close call with a fall, your mate wouldn’t want you to even think about getting on the damned counters again. So, he got you a step stool.

Once in awhile, you’ll see him use it too. Don’t let him know or say a damn word about it.

Plus, imagine those with the size difference kink. You desperately trying to reach something too far above you. They come up behind you, squishing your body to either the counter or wall. That day ended up differently than you originally thought.

Seeing the way your hand barely fits in their palm. They’re purring up a storm and holding you close.

As for the twins and triplets: yes, it is possible but a very rare occurrence. With their head structure, it’s already hard to push out one. It also puts a huge strain on their bodies. Some go through with the pregnancy if they believe they can endure the journey. Others don’t to save them either the downfall of an unnecessary death of themselves or their children.

I believe in some cultures of the Yautja, it’s celebrated if a female produces more than one offspring and survived. It is a feat that many don’t endure or survive.

Hands encased your hips and pinned you to the counter. A heavy body draped acrossed your back. Hot air caressed the shell of your ear. “What does little hunter think gonna do?” a grumbly voice spoke, slightly scolding you for what might have been a dangerous action. At least in those bright orange eyes of his.

Your entire body jumped at the sudden feel before relaxing, head titling to the side. Uihoy’s profile met your gaze. “I have no idea what you mean,” you brushed off. “I’m just trying to grab a bowl.” That was only thing that was the second shelf they hadn’t moved yet. You best believe it will be after today.

Uihoy snorted then reached above you and grabbed hold of the item you were attempting to take. It was placed before you on the counter in front of you.

The hand left on your hip drifted up to clasp hold of your throat. A finger was used to tilt your head back. Uihoy leaned over you to look you in the eye. “Next time, use the stool,” he scolded and pinched the column of your throat in warning.

Your shoulders sagged, eyes rolling with attitude. “But Uie! I was fine. Three feet off the ground ain’t gonna kill me,” you complained and leaned your weight against the short Yautja. His body barely even wavered at the added weight.

“No, but Uihoy might if little hunter doesn’t listen.” There was no bite in his words. You groaned.

His hold on you slipped away. He took a step away from you. You snatched the bowl off of the counter in front of you and marched over to the refrigerator-like device in the wall.

As you pulled out the stew made yesterday to consume as a mid-day lunch, you narrowed your eyes on Uihoy. The Yautja still stood in the kitchen, leaning against the island. With a spoon, you pointed it at him, non-threatening. “You’re lucky I love you enough I won’t smack you for calling me short,” you pouted and poured some of the stew to fill half the bowl.

A disgruntled grunt sounded from the elder. “My heart is yours, little one.”

[purgatorygrl]

Parallels between Jamie and Arthur

The relationship between what happened to Jamie with The Chelonia cult and Arthur's situation with the band seems to me to be quite similar.

Jamie came from a family that was quite dysfunctional, his mother had died and his father treated him badly and constantly despised him, so he needed to find a place where he was validated and felt accepted. To do this, he joined The Chelonia cult, where they told him what to think, what to say, what to do, and they took his money for the supposed "donations." Jamie knew that they were manipulating him and that everything about the cult was a lie, but he still stayed there because it was the only place where he felt accepted and where people treated him well.

Like Jamie, Arthur did not have a structured family and was alone since he was little until Dutch and Hosea adopted him and he began to be part of the band. Dutch made sure that Arthur had the same ideals as him and at all times he told him how to do things and what was the correct way to think and act. Arthur had his own way of seeing things and he didn't always agree with what Dutch said and did but he always gave in and in the end he ended up doing what Dutch wanted even though it wasn't what he wanted, partly because of Dutch's manipulation and the need for validation and because he felt like he owed him his life. He always saw Dutch deteriorating more and more but he never left the band, first because it wasn't that easy but mostly because it was the only family he had and the only people who had accepted him and that was the only life he knew.

"They're using you, they're telling you what you want to hear" In the end, Dutch used emotional manipulation to control people, especially Arthur, spontaneously giving him validation and calling him son so that in the end he would do the things Dutch wanted.

I love how Jamie asks him "and what do you know about that, Arthur?" I would say quite a bit, taking into account the dynamics of the Van der Linde gang and Arthur's relationship with Dutch.

[five-and-dimes]

100 Years of Drowning/ (So What's a Few More?)

This was the first fic I started for this fandom and now a million years later it's done and I Do Not Like It. But I worked on it for ages and it's finished and so I am going to subject all of you to it. As a treat.

AO3

~~~~~

The first problem is obvious.

“You are aware,” Dream drawls, “that I can simply become clean if I will it.”

“Yes, I am well aware of your vast powers of convenience,” Hob rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress the fond smile on his face.

The summer heat had permeated the apartment, the open window of the bedroom only occasionally offering a brief breeze. Hob and Dream had been enjoying a lazy weekend together, sometimes sitting in silence together, sometimes laughing at an absurd show or movie, sometimes running their hands and mouths across each others’ skin. When they had awoken, Hob had almost immediately begun complaining about the layer of sweat on his body, the way the sheets stuck to his skin and his hair matted on his forehead. The complaints soon turned to mischievous coaxing, trying to tug Dream out of the bed with him.

“But showers are nice,” he continued arguing, “Even nicer when they’re shared,” he wiggled his eyebrows, and a huff of laughter escaped Dream despite himself.

Still. Some things are. Hard. Since Fawney Rig.

It used to be easier, giving himself to Hob like this.

Which is not to say it was ever really easy.

When Dream had reunited with Hob at the New Inn, he knew he owed Hob a great deal. Repentance, repayment, remorse. He wanted to be someone worthy of the friendship Hob offered so freely, despite Dream’s past behavior.

He did not want to tell him what had happened to him. It felt too raw, too fresh, too vulnerable. And he had given so little to Hob over the years, it felt wrong that the first thing Dream gave him should be a burden. But Hob deserved to know that he had not been abandoned out of anger, or pride. He deserved to know he had been missed.

“I would have come,” Dream states, soft and low, for Hob’s ears only.

Hob frowned, “Pardon?”

When he had first arrived, Dream had felt the closest to relaxed he had in ages, Hob’s smile easing some of the tension from his frame. Now, though, he braces himself. Straightens in his seat until his whole body is rigid and still, like a child awaiting chastisement.

“In 1989. I would have come to you, had I been able. I was. Not able.” He forces himself to meet Hob’s eyes, “I was. Captured. This is the soonest I could come. Forgive me.”

Hob had already forgiven him when he thought he kept him waiting on purpose. Now, he looks at the being across from him and sees so clearly that he has been hurt. It is just as clear that he is waiting for Hob to hurt him, too.

He places his hand on the table in invitation, and asks only one question that day, “Are you alright, my Stranger?”

Dream doesn’t answer.

Instead he lets out a sigh, allowing himself to relax however minutely, and gives Hob a small smile, “You may call me Dream. I have many names, but that is. The one I am most fond of.”

Hob had beamed at him, eyes alight with joy as he whispered, “Dream…” with reverence. They spoke long into the night, and somewhere along the way, Dream allowed himself to slip his hand into Hob’s, and Hob squeezed his fingers gently and invited him to visit whenever he wanted. And Dream wanted.

So they became proper friends, and then they became more, and Dream never elaborated on the details of his imprisonment and Hob never asked and it was. Fine.

It was mostly fine.

Sure, sometimes Hob touched him and it felt like his insides were being tugged in twelve different directions. He wanted to lean closer, and he wanted to run away, and he was burning and freezing and crumbling like fragile ruins. His beloved was tugging at his shirt, and he blinked and his cloak was being removed and he was too weak to move, and he blinked and Hob was laying him back on his bed, and he blinked and rough hands were tossing him into a glass prison, and he blinked, and he blinked, and he blinked-

But. In the winter he could hide beneath the sheets. And that was enough.

Now, uncomfortable warmth invades the days and nights, and Hob kicked the sheets to the floor, and Dream would not dare to deny Hob even the smallest of things, even if the same air which warms Hob freezes Dream deep in his bones. It feels fragile, this thing between them. Unbalanced. Always there is a scale in the corner of Dream’s eye, one side tipped heavily under the weight of his sins, his flaws, his every failure, and he cannot bear to add any more.

So he lets Hob toss his shields to the floor, and clings to distraction. Distracting Hob with kisses and touches so he doesn't notice Dream trembling and distracting himself with his desperation to be a good lover to make up for all the years of being a bad friend.

He owes Hob that much.

He owes Hob more.

That is why he sighs now, forcing a small smile in response to Hob's wide grin as he takes his offered hand and is tugged towards the bathroom. He cannot deny him anything.

~~~

The second problem is more unexpected.

Dream has never been in this particular room, never having had any need to. He can recognize that the room's design is meant to be fancy and luxurious, more modern than the rest of Hob's home. There are sleek metal furnishings, granite countertops, large, decadent towels, and the obvious focal point being the shower. Dream's eyes fixate on it; on the large, wide shower head arched within one wall of gently patterned tile and three walls of smooth, clean glass.

It's a different shape.

It's a different shape, and Dream clings to that fact with his fingernails.

Hob is chattering about something, and it feels muffled and far away (like listening through glass) but Dream catalogs all the things that make this place different from where his mind is slipping. First and foremost, Hob is here. Hob is here. His voice, while still distant to Dream's mind, is still a comfort, the soothing tenor washing over him. He slips a little farther, like he always does, when it comes time to disrobe (cold, exposed, eyes on him like an object, like a tool, like a toy-), but as they enter the shower he entwines his fingers with Hob's, a feeling so different from his century of isolation that it steadies him just a little.

He closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see the glass door shut. The water helps, too, cooling to Hob and warming to Dream, and with his eyes closed he can pretend they are standing in the rain together. A gentle hand runs through his hair, wetting the wild strands, and he can feel Hob smirking, "See? It's nice, isn't it?"

Dream hums noncommittally, keeping his head tilted down as he focuses on Hob's fingers. It is nice, he thinks, especially when Hob leans in to kiss him with a smiling mouth. Dream loves Hob’s smile, loves the way it tastes against his lips. Sighing, he runs his hands up Hob’s front, carding his fingers through the damp hair there before winding his arms around his neck and pressing their chests together. There is so much sensation. The smooth glide of Hob’s hands as they run down Dream’s back to cup his arse, the wet hairs at the nape of Hob’s neck and how they tangle around Dream’s fingers, the way water drips down their faces and eases the slide of their lips together.

It’s nice. The cascade of water blankets them, and Dream thinks he can do this. Hob’s hand ghosts around his hips, his skin cool when he takes Dream’s cock in a gentle grip, and Dream lets out a shuddering sigh of relief at having managed to not ruin Hob's peaceful morning.

And then he is pressed back against the glass.

Hob’s hands are still on him, gentle and soft, and his lips are warm against his own, but all Dream can feel is cold cold cold against the bare skin of his back and he’s been here before, been here for so long, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. There is a Shepard Tone in his head (in his chest, in the Dreaming), drowning out the sound of water and he thinks he would rather ruin Hob’s morning than stay here but no matter how hard he tries his jaw feels locked in place.

Words do have power. That is true. And that is certainly a part of the reason why Dream has always kept his words so close to his chest, always considered his speech so carefully. It is also one of the lies he tells himself when he thinks about his imprisonment. In between berating himself for allowing his capture, Dream spent an equal amount of time trying very hard to lie to himself about why he stayed silent in Fawney Rig; his pride, his safety, his seething rage and grief over Jessamy.

But the truth is a weight in the hollow of his throat and the truth is this: a part of him was certain that if he opened his mouth, all he would do is scream.

He feels that way now, too.

The sphere ran out of air early in his imprisonment, so he wonders whether he would have even been able to make a sound had he wanted to. There is air here now, surrounded by glass with Hob in front of him, but his chest does not expand, his lungs tightening in his chest because he desperately does not want to scream. His teeth grind together (don’t scream, don’t scream, nobody will hear, nobody will care-) when suddenly the points of contact, Hob’s hands and lips, the fragile anchors keeping Dream halfway connected to the here and now, pull away. And he is left alone with the glass.

It's not like falling, exactly. It feels like folding. Crumpling. The glass warping behind him, curling around him until his spine is arched, unable to stretch or straighten. His eyes snap open, searching for comfort, for safety, for Hob, but all he finds is his own reflection between spiked iron scaffolding. It's cold, freezing, and he can't shiver, he can't, can't let them see him weak and hurting, but he can't help the way his body huddles around itself, desperate in equal parts to hide and to warm himself.

A part of him knows he is not here. But he is, he is, he's here, he's always here, did he ever really escape? Where is his anger, where is his rage, why does he only ever remember the pain and the fear? The light shines on him, denied even darkness to hide, and he thinks there is blood and feathers on the glass, he thinks there is a cane striking in front of his face, he thinks there are eyes on him every moment and he closes his own in desperation.

He doesn't want to be here.

He doesn't want to be here anymore.

Suddenly there is a sensation, something his mind can't quite hold on to. Hands on his arms- his own? No, too gentle, Dream's own hands have never been this gentle against his own skin. There's something like movement, and he's cold, he's cold, he's cold, there's water on his face, is he crying? They'll use that against him and he will have failed even more than he already has-

Warm. There is something warm around him, covering him, hiding his form from cruel eyes and that's new, that's different, that's not something that fits in this place.

It's a terrifying task, but Dream opens his eyes. He nearly sobs in relief (or maybe he actually does) at the realization that he's literally anywhere other than that basement. It takes him a moment to actually identify where he is, the room unfamiliar, but as Hob Gadling takes shape in front of him he remembers through context, though how he got here, specifically, is still a mystery.

Dream finds himself huddled on the tile floor, wet hair sticking to his face uncomfortably. There is a long, fluffy robe draped around him, and Hob is kneeling on the floor in front of him, hands braced on his biceps. He is outside of the shower.

But when he turns his head he sees his reflection in the glass and cries.

Hob's eyes widen in panic as Dream sobs, "Hey, it's okay, you're okay-"

"Please."

The word is barely choked out, a soft, grating rasp that sounds like it hurts Dream to say almost as much as it hurts Hob to hear. He's never heard Dream beg before, and it lances something in Hob's chest and he feels tears begin to trail down his own face and his chest is too tight with grief to explain that Dream doesn't need to beg, never needs to beg, Hob would give him anything, would give him everything.

Dream's face is tucked down against his knees, "Please, I'm sorry, please, please take me away from here, let me out, let me out-"

For a moment he’s not sure who he’s talking to, thinks that the Burgess family has finally broken him, and then Hob is bundling him into his arms, tucking the Endless being against his chest and carrying him from the room.

There is a tight thread of anxiety in Hob’s voice, but he still manages to speak soft and gentle as even as he stumbles into the hallway, "Okay, where can I take you? Outside? Somewhere else? Can you take us to the Dreaming or-"

Just being away from the glass lets Dream breathe easier, his mind having less of a struggle holding on to his surroundings, and he realizes that Hob doesn't know what 'here' Dream asked to be taken away from.

"Your room," his voice is thready and weak but Hob complies immediately, placing Dream gently onto the bed before sitting in front of him. A full-body shudder wracks Dream’s slender frame, and he can’t help but curl into himself. A part of him wonders if he is making it worse for himself, keeping himself huddled and folded like he was in the too-small sphere, if it would help to stretch like he was unable to do for over a century. But he can’t. Can’t bring himself to reveal himself, to show the little bit of softness still clinging to his visible bones. He wants to be safe. He wants to be hidden.

“Dream…”

He jolts a bit at the voice, his thoughts scattered like broken glass (glass glass glass) until he had forgotten Hob sitting in front of him.

Hob swallows thickly, “Dream,” he starts again, “are you… can… can I touch you? Can I hug you?”

Even after all these years, Hob’s kindness still surprised him sometimes. When Dream was off kilter (when he was scared, when he was hurting, when he was weak-) he couldn’t help but expect Hob to respond with anger, or cruelty. Dream expected a shark gnashing teeth at blood in the water, but only ever found a medic in the minefield.

Dream nodded, his entire body a plea he couldn’t speak. Hob sighed in relief, finally able to give in to his desperate desire, wrapping his arms around Dream’s huddled form, tucking his head beneath his chin and kissing the damp black strands. He felt Dream shiver, and he let one hand come up to cup his neck as the other stroked up and down his back, feeling his fingers catch on the knobs of his spine even through the robe.

The hold pressed the soft fabric more firmly against Dream’s skin, a softness that was absent for a hundred and six years, and Hob radiates warmth. The rise and fall of his chest unconsciously prompts Dream’s to do the same, shakily inhaling and exhaling if only to remind himself that he can. After a few minutes Hob begins speaking, gentle comforting words, “You’re alright, you’re safe, I’m here, I’m right here, Love,” a murmur that Dream felt as much as heard, pressing himself impossibly closer.

Slowly, the world begins to solidify around him, becoming aware of the world outside his own body. He notices that Hob is shirtless, and there is a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, but his hair is still soaked, the sheets beneath them growing damp. The lights are off in the bedroom, but it is still fairly bright from the open windows, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. Everything around him is soft, and warm, and everything that he doesn’t deserve and he ruined it.

Hob begins to pull away, and Dream has a moment of fractured panic, because Hob is leaving him because Hob is the only thing keeping him warm because he’s still naked and exposed because he’s still trapped somewhere because-

The rush of cold air against his damp skin hurts in a way he can barely grasp. He curls forward into the space Hob left behind, arms wrapped tight around his stomach, and he’s bracing to be thrown back into a glass prison. But before the cold has a chance to reach his bones, the warmth comes back. Hob works swiftly, frantic and determined, pulling the robe around Dream’s shoulders tighter across his body, covering his chest and hiding his skin. He tucks the soft fabric around Dream’s arms before tugging at the bed sheets to bundle them across Dream’s legs. Soon, only Dream’s face is exposed, and even that is obscured by the wet hair still dripping steadily.

Warm hands stroke up and down Dream's biceps, petting over fabric from shoulder to elbow, rubbing at where his fingers are still clenched tight around his middle. Now that Dream is covered, Hob presses closer, kissing the crown of his head, giving him another layer of shelter in the circle of his arms.

It comes as a surprise when Dream realizes he can breathe.

Hob is still afraid. The being in his arms feels so fragile, and he is lost and confused and so far out of his depth it's bordering on comical. But it seems like Dream is coming back to himself, his breath evening out and the shaking calming to intermediate shivers, and so Hob thinks maybe the worst has passed. Hob's own heartbeat is still frantic in his chest. When Dream had gone silent in his arms, when he had slid down the shower wall, when his face had twisted with fear and sorrow, panic had filled every corner of his body. He still felt like he was humming with it.

He's not sure how much time passes, but they both manage to slowly settle against each other, and when Dream finally leans back, their skin is mostly dry and their hair is damp, but no longer dripping. When Dream looks at him, he looks… defeated.

"I'm sorry."

Hob has never heard Dream's voice so small.

Dream won't meet his eyes, and he looks so afraid, so ashamed, so fractured. His face shutters, trying to put himself back together and hide all evidence of the cracks.

"I would ask for an opportunity to fix this." Dream's hands shake as he reaches out to stroke Hob's chest, his breath stuttering as the robe slips open.

There is no hesitation as Hob snatches the edges of the robe to pull them closed, folding Dream's arms back beneath the fabric and away from Hob's skin.

"Hey, hey," Hob's tone is gentle, even as his eyes widen with panic, "There's nothing to apologize for, nothing to fix." He tilts his head, trying to catch Dream's eye, "Talk to me. What's going on? What happened just now?"

Dream swallowed thickly, eyes fixed on the sheets pooled in his lap, "I was merely…" his voice was thin and weak, "merely reminded of something… unpleasant. I apologize for disrupting you."

Hob's brow furrows, taking a moment to turn Dream's words over in his head and puzzle together the things he hasn't said. "You had a flashback?"

In hindsight, that actually made sense. Sometimes Hob got caught up in the fact that Dream wasn’t technically human and forgot that it didn’t negate his humanity; he looked for supernatural explanations instead of seeing the obvious right in front of him. And Hob has been in enough wars to know what a flashback looks like. He considers everything that he has witnessed in the past fifteen minutes and feels like a fool for not seeing it immediately.

There are a dozen questions lining up behind his tongue. But Dream still won't look at him, is still trembling under his hands, is clenching his jaw so hard it looks painful. There are more important things than answers.

“...Would you like to get dressed?” he offers softly.

Dream’s breath hitches. For a long minute his lips part and press closed again and again, the words warring in his throat. But eventually, he closes his eyes and nods miserably, “Yes. Please.”

Hob nods, standing up and walking to the dresser, turning his back to give Dream a sense of privacy. There is a churning in his gut, his instinct telling him that Dream needs him to not look at him right now, despite everything they’ve done together. Little pieces are coming together in Hob’s mind, like arranging pieces of broken glass, sharp and cutting, pressing the edges together until he can see the shape of what was shattered. He thinks about how covering Dream with the robe in the bathroom was what finally brought him back to the present. He thinks about how draping fabric over his skin let Dream breathe easier.

Dressing quickly, throwing on the first loose sweats his fingers find, Hob takes a moment to go to the closet and finds a particular forest green hoodie, oversized and with fleece lining the interior. A human would get heat stroke wearing it in this weather, but Dream is not bound by earthly temperature like Hob is, and he knows that this is Dream’s favorite piece of clothing to steal.

When he turns around, Dream is still wrapped in the robe and sheet, but he has a long sleeve, high neck black shirt and jeans on beneath it, and his hair is dry. He looks more like himself, less curled up and trembling, his back straightening and his legs criss-crossed. Even breaths escape his lips, and he has pulled his stoic expression back together, though there is a shadow of shame that he cannot seem to cover completely.

Hob offers him the hoodie wordlessly, and Dream looks like he might start crying again. But he blinks it back as he accepts it, pushing the robe from his shoulders and wrapping himself in soft, thick fabric. When he zips it up to the neck, Hob catches him tucking his nose down to inhale the familiar scent. Hob climbs back onto the bed, sitting in front of Dream close enough for their knees to brush, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it occurs to him that Dream could have easily vanished while his back was turned. But he didn’t. That’s got to count for something.

“Are you feeling better?”

Dream nods slowly, eyes darting up to search Hob’s face. “Yes. I apologize. I did not mean to…”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Reaching out, he takes one of Dream’s hands, the palms covered by hoodie sleeves, just the tips of his fingers touching Hob’s skin. “Do… do you know what triggered you?”

There is a long pause, a war happening behind Dream’s eyes, before he finally seems to deflate as he nods.

Wrapped in Hob’s sweatshirt, covered and safe with Hob holding his hand and speaking gently, Dream feels the words pool in his mouth like acid. He has been granted patience and comfort. The least he can do is tell the truth.

“I told you I was captured.”

Hob’s chest hurts, like he’s caving in under the weight of fear and sorrow. A selfish part of him wants to tell Dream to stop, please, he knows already that he doesn’t want to hear this.

He holds his hand tighter and says nothing.

Dream swallows, voice shaking as he finally, finally elaborates.

“They took my tools of office and. Stripped me. Left me bare. In order to ensure I did not escape their spell, I was then. Caged. In a sphere made of glass.”

Hob’s jaw clenches so hard he thinks he might break a tooth. It’s selfish. It’s so fucking selfish how much he doesn’t want to know this, how much he wishes he could go back to this morning before the weight of this terrible truth settled in his lungs. And he wants to scream, wants to shake Dream, because the truth hurts so much more now, now after so much time has passed, now when he can look back on their months together and think of how many times he has hurt Dream. How many times Dream has let him. Hob feels so angry, and so monstrous, and so, so selfish.

But.

But in the stretch of silence between them, Hob is reminded that the selfish part of him is miniscule compared to the part of him that loves Dream of the Endless. His selfishness cannot survive that love.

He makes a mental promise to allow himself a good long scream in a pillow later. Maybe a few punches against the drywall. Later.

“Okay.”

Dream’s head snaps up in surprise, and Hob realizes that Dream had been bracing for selfishness, and Hob thinks he might have died of heartbreak if not for his immortality.

“W-what?”

“I said okay,” Hob takes his other hand, stroking his thumbs across sharp, pale knuckles, “I-” He has to clear his throat, remind himself that he can scream later, “I definitely. Understand how you were triggered.” His screaming might be accompanied by a baseball bat in his bathroom.

Despite his best efforts, he can’t help but whisper weakly, “...Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did not wish to burden you.”

“It’s not a burden to not hurt you!” He’s so desperate for Dream to understand, he leans forward to cup Dream’s face in his hands, “I love you.”

Fresh tears well in Dream’s eyes, but he does not look away from Hob’s gaze, “I have given you so little.”

“You don’t need to give me anything at all. Especially not anything that hurts you. Dream,” He pressed their foreheads together, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dream lets his eyes fall closed, sighing, “I love you. And I have not been good to you in the past. I cannot deny you anything now.”

“Oh yes you can.”

Hob’s response is so quick, so light and fond that Dream lets out a soft breath of laughter before he can stop himself. When he opens his eyes, Hob is crying, but he is also grinning, “You’re stuck with my love, you’d never get rid of it so easily as just by saying no to me. I’ve loved you for six hundred years, even when you claim you weren’t good to me. I have no intention of stopping now.”

None of this makes sense. It doesn’t feel like the kind of love that could ever be directed at Dream. Ever be given to Dream. But Hob has never made a habit of lying, especially when it comes to his own feelings. Dream thinks it is a quality he should attempt to emulate.

So Dream admits, with a trembling voice, “I would prefer. To remain covered, when we make love. With clothes or bed sheets. Even when the weather is hot.”

Hob nods, smiling like Dream has given him something precious.

(Because he has).

“Okay. We can make that happen.”

Later, Hob will in fact scream into a pillow, and he doesn’t have a bat but he has a hammer that shatters his shower almost too efficiently to be satisfying. In the coming weeks he will renovate his flat, hauling in a claw foot tub and an expensive air conditioning system that he keeps blasting cold air at all hours regardless of his energy bill so that he can stay wrapped up and warm with his lover, listening to breaths that are so calm and even it makes him realize just how much they didn't used to be. Slowly, Dream will open up more about his boundaries, and his wounds, and Hob will kiss away the anxiety each time and make the space around them just a little more comfortable for him. They take a few steps back and a lot of steps forward.

Tonight, Hob turns the lights down low, and wraps Dream in blankets and then his arms, kissing the crown of his head, and takes comfort in discovering the new sound of Dream breathing deep and peaceful.

[iwriteasfotini]

OLIWITS Excerpt from TBOF Chapter I

Excerpt from Our Love is Written in the Stars: The Bonds of Friendship, Chapter I - Just Another Summer Day

(Continued from this Excerpt)

“Get off me,” grunted James, shoving Sirius who scrambled back. But as James went to stand Sirius caught hold of his foot and yanked hard, sending James back to the floor with a cry of outrage. 

“Am'mā! Get him off!”

But Sirius had already stood, and was smoothing back his hair. James kicked him in the shin. 

“Ow! Wanker!” Sirius clutched at his leg. 

“Sirius, please watch your language at the table.”

“Mrs P, as you can see I’m not actually -”

But James watched as if an invisible line was pulling Sirius forward by his torso, into a chair, and right up to the edge of the table. 

“You were saying?” His mother was smiling fondly. “When we had James I never envisioned I’d be parenting two teenage boys.”

“Morning am'mā.” James walked around the table and gave his am'mā a peck on the cheek. 

“See Sirius, James knows how to treat his mother.”

Sirius bustled from his chair and gave Euphemia a peck on the cheek as well. “Morning Effie.”

“You are a dear, Sirius,” Effie said, patting his cheek. 

James, who was fixing himself a cup of tea at the sidebar, made gagging sounds. And Sirius elbowed him in the back as he passed, causing James to spill half his cuppa. 

“Oi!” But Lark was already underfoot, and then the spilled tea was gone as was the elf. 

“Sit down boys, sit down. Eat something. You are skin and bones.”

“Not me,” James announced proudly. “I’ll have you know Frank said I was looking fit when we saw him at the Wasp’s match last week.”

“Frank has always had a secret crush on you mate,” laughed Sirius. 

“Not ‘fit,’ fit!” James flexed his biceps. 

Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“Be patient boys, you’ll both fill out soon enough. I remember back when Monty -”

 “Are you sure you want to finish that thought love?” Fleamont Potter strode into the dining room, adjusting the buttons of his kurta. 

“Nīṅkaḷ evvaḷavu valimaiyāka iruntīrkaḷ eṉpataip paṟṟi nāṉ ciṟuvarkaḷiṭam collikkoṇṭiruntēṉ.” I was just telling the boys how strong you used to be.

“Payaṉpaṭuttappaṭṭatā?” Used to be?

Effie gave her husband a smirk. 

“Nāṉ mikavum olliyāka irukkiṟēṉ eṉkiṟār am'mā,” James whined. Mum says I am too skinny. 

“You are teenage boys. You are supposed to be all knees and elbows,” chuckled Monty. 

“Maṟṟum pātaṅkaḷ,” Effie added. 

“Yes, and feet.” Monty kissed his wife’s cheek and grabbed his robes. “I’m off to the ministry today boys. Be good for your mother.”

James gave Sirius a withering look. But Sirius was looking rather pleased. 

Soon they had both consumed enough breakfast fare to feed the average adult for an entire day. They skipped from the table and out into the back garden of the Potter’s estate. 

James loved this house. Mostly because they had several acres of land which included a bit of woodland area where Monty had constructed a quidditch practice field. The goal hoops were only half the height of regulation hoops, and there was only a single set, but it was better than nothing. Best of all, there were wards and glamours on the entire wood, so James could fly about twenty feet above the treetops before the ward halted his progress. 

There was a little broom shed tucked in the trees, which is where he and Sirius were currently headed at a run. 

James grabbed his Nimbus and Sirius grabbed James’ old broom, a Comet 220. They sailed into the air letting out joyful whoops. James did a couple of loop-de-loops to let off some steam before charging at Sirius and initiating a game of chase. Sirius, who loved to fly, wasn’t as keen on drilling quidditch plays with the quaffle, so James always made sure they had plenty of fun before he asked him to help with skills practice. 

“What do you think Remus and Pete are doing today?” said Sirius as they glided next to each other in a large circle around the clearing. 

“Probably not this,” James smiled. 

“Nah, neither of them even own a broom.”

“Because they hate flying.”

“I think Remus is warming to it,” Sirius said, laying back on the broom and gazing at the sky. James had practiced the trick with him for the first few weeks of summer and he knew Sirius was itching to show it off to the other boys. 

“You can scare his pants off if you bring that broom to Hogwarts this year,” said James, nodding in Sirius’ direction. “We can go flying on proper brooms for once, not those dinosaurs they call school brooms.”

“Dinosaurs? Have you been reading muggle books?”

“Har har, mister hypothermia. I know Remus is sending you his cast offs.” 

“Too true, I recently read one about a kid who wants to climb a mountain.”

“Like climbing a tree?” James asked, he too lay back on his broom. The trick was to be able to steer with very little visual guidance, which when flying in a fairly gentle leftwards angle wasn’t too hard. 

“Nah, like walking, with boots, and ropes, and other tools.”

“Why would anyone want to do that, you could fly up there, easy peasy. Or even better, apparate to the top!”

“Muggles can’t. Apparently it’s a big deal for them. They go on all sorts of grand adventures. Sleep in tents and cook over fires. It’s very macho.”

“My cousins in India go on grand adventures hunting for Occamy. They try to snatch its eggs, because the shells are made of silver. In fact, I think I had a great uncle or something who died when an Occamy attacked him. Bet muggles don’t often face down vicious beasts on their adventures.”

“Thank you mister I-will-always-one-up-you-Potter.” Sirius tsk’d. “I wish we could fly farther, I like going fast. But in a straight line.”

“We can at Hogwarts. The grounds are far bigger. Bring the broom, go on.”

James could practically hear Sirius’ eye roll. It wasn’t charity, really. James knew Sirius’ family could afford to buy him an entire quidditch team if he wanted. But they weren’t likely to pass him any favors anytime soon. Sirius had wanted a broom for two years, the one he was riding was never even used anymore. 

“If you don’t bring it, I’m having dad put an undetectable extension charm on my trunk and I’ll pack it anyway.”

Sirius huffed, “fine.” But when James glanced over at him, he could see Sirius was smiling. 

Flying lasted all morning. James only made Sirius drill for an hour and a half, which he felt was rather generous. Sirius seemed to think it was about eighty minutes too long and whinged constantly, even though he continued to practice drop passes, and reverse passes, and even played keeper for the last fifteen minutes. 

“You know,” said James as they walked back up to the house, “you really aren’t half bad at actually playing. You could go out for the team if you -”

“You pull this on me everyday Potter. No is no. I can’t risk my face being bashed in by a bludger. What would all my admirer’s think?” Sirius asked, taking his hair out of the bun he wore while flying and shaking it out. 

James wolf-whistled. 

“Girls love quidditch players, it will add to your bravado.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“And boys, they love quidditch players too.”

Sirius scoffed, and James held up his hands in innocence.

“Did you really snog someone last year?” James had been trying to get this information out of Sirius since their first day at the Potter’s house but Sirius was adamantly refusing to share details. It took James three weeks of wearing him down before Sirius even admitted that he had kissed one person, one time, but he wouldn’t say who it was. 

“But it was nothing, it didn’t mean anything,” Sirius had argued. “So it really doesn’t matter who it was.”

And although James didn’t actually care who Sirius had snogged, it was more the principle of the thing. Not to mention, they had had a bet on about who would kiss a girl first. Sirius had retracted the bet at the beginning of second year, and it was for this reason James was suspicious of the gender of the person Sirius had been kissing. It wasn’t like him to back out of a bet, but James wasn’t stupid. He had never heard Sirius make a comment about finding a girl attractive. Sirius rarely made comments about finding anyone attractive, which was ironic because practically the entire school thought they were in love with him. If they knew how bad he farted after eating curry every night… but James sighed internally, he doubted even that would deter the rampant Sirius Black obsession. 

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” James said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Blimey they really were rather boney, weren’t they?

“Don’t hold your breath,” replied Sirius. But he slung his arm around James’ shoulders. Living exclusively with Sirius and having no formal schedule of classes to attend, James had learned a few things about his best friend which he hadn’t known. First, Sirius was extremely touchy. James always knew he was on the touchy feely side. Sirius loved to wrestle and be tickled, shoved, and even sat on, all in the nature of good fun of course. But it was like Sirius couldn’t not touch someone if it was allowed. He always sat right next to James on the couch so their sides were pressed together. He always bumped knees or arms when sitting at the table. He always ended up skin to skin with James in bed. James didn’t really mind, but when he brought it up, Sirius acted like he didn’t even realize it was happening. So James dropped it.

The second thing he learned was Sirius needed a family, and as his own family was total shite James had privately encouraged his parents to incorporate Sirius into their family as organically and enthusiastically as possible. Seeing Sirius light up when Effie and Monty treated him as lovingly and with as much care as they did James, made James’ heart swell. Sirius would never, ever admit to enjoying the attention. James was certain of this. And James would never, ever admit he had told his parents to lay it on heavy. Sirius was happy, which made James happy, and that was all anyone needed to know. 

The final thing was Sirius really, and truly farted like an Erumpant on a diet of primarily Indian cuisine. 

…

Next week, look for an excerpt (plus title, POV, and posting date) from Book 4. Daily posting will begin on AO3 on February 14 :)

Check on the weekly posting/writing status update here!

[wolfiemcwolferson]

trick or treat for something happy baby

Everybody here is asking for happy stuff, but what if I want to be evil???????

FINE. Happy.

Another fic I’ll never write. Mostly because it’s a companion fic to the Maxiel Top Chef fic I’ll never write, but this is Piarles

Charles is on Top Chef a different season. He’s a pastry chef and he owns a struggling bakery in Seattle and Daniel basically got him this spot and he knows it.

Pastry chefs either go first or make it pretty far and shock everyone.

Charles is hoping he makes it far.

He’s especially hoping that when he overhears some of the assistants talking about cake week and how they had to move it to be earlier because the guest judge - Pierre Gasly - had a scheduling conflict.

Charles new goal is to make it to cake week.

He does. There’s some drama. He almost goes home once but he cries a little bit and he thinks that has something to do with it but he would never say that.

Pierre waltzes in, talks about his chain of bakeries, his cookbook, his new line of boxed cookie mix, and Charles is so incredibly fucked.

The quick fire is making boxed cake mix into something new and Charles wins obviously, but Pierre takes a bite of his cobbler cookies and he moans and then he says, “if this was a different baking show I would shake your hand” and Charles giggles and Pierre winks and then Charles wins the quick fire so he gets to choose the teams for the challenge which ends up being wedding dessert.

Pierre sits in on their consultation with the couples and he’s impressed with the way Charles handles the bride and how he’s so confident that they can make hundreds of mini pies and Charles is GOOD AT THIS so he takes charge and he makes it happen and then HE WINS THE CHALLENGE and his reward is FRANCE.

A food tour with one week of study with Pierre at his flagship bakery and that’s when Pierre learns Charles’ is originally from Monaco and after they cut he comes over to shake Charles’ hand and says he will clear his schedule for Charles tour.

Charles takes the night and allows himself to believe it is more than it is and then he puts it behind him and he goes up two challenges later because his blue cheese tart fails spectacularly.

He goes home, he doesn’t even go to the finale.

He works.

He enjoys his tiny fame and the uptick of visitors to his bakery and the followers he gains on Instagram and he starts shipping those mini pie’s all over the US and that ends up paying his bills and he tries to not think about anything else.

Even if his assistant asks about Pierre 100 times because he’s totally convinced that Pierre is into him or whatever craziness he dreamed up from watching him on TV for 60 seconds.

Daniel calls, asks if he can stop by next week, film some segments.

Charles clears his schedule for Tuesday and he is looking forward to seeing Danny, but uh.

Pierre is the one who walks through the door. Sunglasses on. Hair windswept.

“You owe me a date, Charles.” He says, leaning on the counter. “And if you won’t come to Paris, I’ll have to come to Seattle.”

And Charles sputters a bit and stumbles through asking him what he means and Pierre laughs, walking around the counter and into Charles’ kitchen without a backwards glance.

And that’s the beginning of how they fall in love

[confessions-official]

I think one of my ex friends from high school abused me. It took me a long time to realize because a same-sex friendship isn’t the usual context in which we learn about abuse. At most, the word “toxic” will be used to describe an unhealthy friendship, but that word really doesn’t do justice to what I experienced from her.

She quickly isolated me from all my other friends, getting so jealous and angry whenever I’d hang out with someone other than her that eventually I stopped doing it. But SHE was allowed to hang out with other people, and when she and I were around her other friends together, she was constantly putting me down—calling me names, laughing at me, saying mean things about me that she’d play off as “jokes” if anyone called her out on it. She also wanted me to hang out with her every single day, and would get really angry if I didn’t.

At her house she would often pressure me to drink with her (we were underage), even when I didn’t want to, and pressured me to spend whole weekends at her house from after school on friday until school on monday morning without ever going home, forcing me to borrow her clothes. She started trying to control what I wore and what I bought, and she would lord over me the clothes she had loaned me as if I was taking advantage of her generosity, claiming that I owed her things for them. She would also buy me things and then use the gifts to guilt trip me into doing whatever she wanted.

She even started to become physically abusive near the end of our friendship. At first it was mostly little slaps and scratches and stuff that didn’t really leave marks but made me adjust my behavior to keep her happy. Once when I arrived to class with an iced tea that I had bought during my lunch period she punched me for not bringing anything back for her (even though she hadn’t asked for anything). The punch was only on my upper arm, but it was really hard—hard enough that the boy sitting next to me asked if I was okay after she went back to her seat. (Of course, I laughed it off and said I was fine). Another time during an argument she shoved me into a doorframe so hard I had bruises all over my arm for weeks.

This pretty much checks all the classic boxes of abuse. But because she was a girl, and we weren’t romantically involved, no one clocked it, including me. I really think we need to change the way we teach kids about abusive relationships, to include relationships that aren’t sexual or romantic in nature as having the capacity to be abusive.

It also occurred to me, that my very first best friend treated me in a similar way to this girl. And I was abused by my parents, too. It’s disheartening to lay it all out like that. It makes me wonder if I’m always going to attract people who want to hurt me and control me. Is there just something about me which screams, “abuse me”? I don’t know. I’ve had healthy friendships and relationships before and after this, but every now and again something like this one comes along and sweeps me away before I even notice what’s happening.