#but you might be able to guess the theme of this place already

[akanemnon]

Turns out this new Dark World is paid DLC

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MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[smileysuh]

dumb frat boy

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3

Prologue

“I’ve got the best idea ever,” Hyuck says the moment after he’s released his first breath from the bong.

Johnny lets out a sigh, leaning back in his recliner. “This better not be another themed wet tittie car wash fundraiser.”

“Excuse me, that idea was brilliant- pairing up with our sister sorority and being horny on cars while in costumes that somewhat resembled cars from the Disney movie Cars made us more cash for the Humane Society than we’ve ever raised, so dial it down on your tone there, Ghostie.” 

The elder frat boy rolls his eyes at the nickname. When word got out about how he wooed his girlfriend last Halloween, the term ‘Ghostie’ ended up sticking, and Johnny’s never been able to let down the sexy stalker angle, even this year's pledges know about it.

“As I was saying,” Hyuck continues, “I figure I’ll take a page out of your book, and do some weird phone call thing to woo my Angel.”

“Oh, so you’re finally gonna admit your feelings to your best friend?” Johnny asks in shock, sitting up to take a better look at the younger frat boy.

“Yes, but after a week of toying with her,” Hyuck announces. “It will be fun. We all know she got her nickname Angel because she’s really more of a demon, she’s going to love this shit.”

“Well, I guess you know her better than I do,” Johnny muses. “So what’s the plan?”

“Basically, you took the best phone call stalker with Ghost Face, but I figure there are other options out there. Have you ever seen Black Christmas?” 

“Like… the one from the seventies?” Johnny’s apprehension is clear in his features, and he reaches for the bong to take another hit.

“Yeah, the one where the dude calls the sorority and is a horny fuck on the phone.”

“Isn’t there some weird incest plot and jaundice thing in the second movie though?”

“No one watches the second movie! We don’t claim the way they butchered the story with that!” Hyuck exclaims, feeling agitated already. 

“I feel like, if you called her, and did the whole Black Christmas thing, she wouldn’t know what the fuck movie you’re referencing.” 

“They did a remake in 2019,” Hyuck insists.

“Did anyone actually watch it though?” Johnny’s an avid horror film lover, and if he hasn’t seen the remakes, it’s not looking good for you to be able to pick up the references, a thought that throws Hyuck off.

However, even though he’s been swayed, Hyuck won’t give up on this idea. “Look, think of it as a Love is Blind sort of thing- I can make her fall in love with me over the phone, and then when I reveal myself as her best friend, she’ll be all ‘woah, we’re soulmates!’”

Johnny looks as skeptical as ever. “Are you sure that’s the way this is going to go?”

Hyuck scrunches his nose up in distaste at the lack of support. “Yes.” 

The elder frat boy takes in a deep breath, shaking his head. “If this is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I just… I think your Angel would react better if you were just straight up with her. Maybe there’s a reason the two of you have never gone past the friend stage. I think the good thing about me doing this last year, was I was just acquaintances with Tiny, I made it clear off the bat that I just wanted to know her better. If she didn’t want me, then that would be fine. If you do this with Angel, and she finds out it’s you and doesn’t return your feelings, you’re going to ruin a friendship.”

Hyuck thinks about what Johnny’s just said as he watches the tall resident Ghostie take another bong hit. It’s true- In Hyuck’s heart of hearts, he knows that… there must be a reason the two of you have never hooked up, but it’s a reason he’s never been able to identify.

The cocky side of him refuses to believe it’s because you’re not attracted to him- there’s definitely sexual tension between the two of you, so it must be something else. 

He’s so tired of toeing the line, especially since you’ve always been kindred, mischievous, horny little souls.

You were with Hyuck when he pranked Sigma Veta Tau last Christmas and put glitter on their ceiling fans. You were with Hyuck when he put a rotisserie chicken in Alpha Tappa Zeta’s air vents. In fact, you’ve been present at almost all of Hyuck’s master plan shenanigans. 

There’s something going on between the two of you and he knows it. 

Last year, when Johnny had pulled his little semi-stalker Ghostie stunt, Hyuck had noted that whoever was behind the anonymous calls had some balls to hit on a girl that way, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t live up to that.

“Listen,” Hyuck sighs. “This is between us. Angel is going to try to figure out who’s calling her, and I need you to keep your mouth shut, okay?”

“Fine,” Johnny agrees, shaking his head. “Hyuck, I love you, but sometimes I forget how much of a dumb frat boy you are.” 

“You know what?” Hyuck grabs at the bong. “I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.” 

Sunday

You’re in the middle of a much-needed nap. Curled up on your fuzzy blankets, your textbook long since discarded while your mood lighting twinkles through the space, it’s the most comfortable you’ve been all term. It’s late October, the nights come early, and you’re starting to not mind the cool air that seeps through the crack in your window.

It’s because you’re dead asleep, that when your phone rings, you don’t even check who’s calling. You simply bolt up, dazed and confused, reaching to pull your cell to your ear. 

“Hello?”

At first, all you hear is breathing on the other end of the line, and you roll your eyes. You’re no stranger to dumb calls, spam calls, and the like- but then, “Angel?”

Well, this is definitely not a spam caller, they wouldn’t know your nickname if it was.

“Who’s this?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to look down at your screen. It’s a ‘No Caller ID,’ and you let out another exasperated sound.  

“A friend,” the person on the other end of the line tells you. 

“A friend I don’t have in my contacts?” you scoff.

“Burner phone, baby.”

“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. 

“Why so serious, Angel?”

“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”

“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”

“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”

“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.” 

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff. 

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”

“Never even heard of it.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.” 

“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.

“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”

“What’s The Black Phone movie?”

“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?” 

You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”

“I one hundred percent do!” 

“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”

“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?” 

“And what does this accomplish? I mean- we all know Johnny’s Ghostie story from last year, he called a girl every day, told her to come to his frat party, and revealed himself there. Is that your game plan?”

“I was thinking about it, but it sounds kind of lackluster now.”

“That’s because it’s not an original idea at all,” you point out.

“Sequels aren’t always original,” the man counters. “Lots of movies have the same plot just different characters, some recurring- look, it doesn’t have to be original. The original angle to this Halloween movie is that I’m going to be way more horny than Johnny probably ever was last year.” 

“And I’m just going to allow that?” you grin. 

“Yeah, because we both know why you have your nickname, don’t we, Angel? You’re a dirty little minx, and you’re going to love this.”

“Except, what if, Halloween comes, and you’re a frat guy that I think is ugly?” you ask. “If you know me, you know I have very specific tastes. There’s only a handful of guys I’d actually be interested in, what makes you think you’re one of them?”

The line is dead for a few stagnant seconds, then, “I just am, okay?”

“Cocky little fucker,” you giggle.

“Don’t be rude.” 

At this point, you’re pretty sure you know who’s on the other end of the line. 

There’s been a few tells from your best friend, Donghyuck. For example, he’s the biggest actual horror buff in the NCT frat. He idolizes Johnny, and was always salty that Mark got the Chicago man as a Big and not himself, so he had a close eye on the events that took place last year in NCT’s ‘Ghostie’ Saga. On top of all of this, there’s an extreme familiarity in the way he’s talking to you, a preexisting natural tint to his diction. Lastly, Hyuck’s the cockiest little dumb frat boy of them all, and it’s one of the reasons you’ve always loved him… one of the reasons you’ve also always kept a bit of distance from your best friend whenever situations have had the option of turning romantic.

Well, if this is how he wants to make his move at you, so be it.

Maybe he’ll convince you that he can be more than a good fuck- you’d never risk your friendship for a one-night stand, no, he’ll have to prove that he could go all in, that he deserves you.

And if all else is just extra, you can at least have some fun toying with Hyuck while he thinks he’s the one toying with you. 

“Okay,” you sigh, stretching. “Let's do this, but we can start tomorrow, you woke me up from a nap, and I’d very much like to get back to it.” 

Monday

“I’m not waking you up from a nap, am I, Angel?” 

“Nope,” you grin, mischief working its way through your mind as you think of the best way to throw Hyuck off. “I was just watching some porn, flicking the bean, you know, that sort of thing.”

You hear him choke. “F… Flicking the bean?”

“Come on, you have to have heard of flicking the bean!” you insist. “Buddy, you’re the one who’s supposed to be calling me to be horny, this is your perfect opportunity!”

“Right, I uh…” he coughs. “How’s… how’s the bean flicking going?”

“Dude, do you know anything about seduction?” you scoff. “‘How’s the bean flicking going,’” you imitate. “Lame!”

“Rude!” he counters.

God, he’s so obviously Hyuck and you bet he doesn’t even realize it. 

“You know what, if you must ask, the bean flicking is going really well.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” he questions next. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease.

“Tell me,” Hyuck insists. 

“Might have to get you to beg if you want to hear those kinds of details.”

“I’m the creepy phone stalker, I call the shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure you do, buddy.” 

“Stop calling me buddy.”

“Okay, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude either!”

“Then what am I supposed to call you? It’s not like anyone knows the name of the slasher from Halloween Christmas, or whatever. You’re no Ghost Face, friend.”

“It’s Black Christmas,” he corrects you. “And I’m pretty sure his name is Billy.”

“Wow, how sexy, Billy,” you scoff. “You really didn’t think this one through that well, did you, buddy?”

“Original Ghost Face is who? Stu Matcher and Billy fucking Loomis,” Hyuck points out. “It’s not the worst name in the world.”

“Tell me one person who refers to Ghost Face as Billy Loomis though, one person, and I’ll tell you what porn I watch.”

“The… screenwriter?”

“Jesus Christ, dude. That’s such low-hanging fruit.”

“Now tell me what porn you watch.” 

You let out a deep sigh. “All this bickering has me not in the mood anymore.”

“Weird, I’m extra in the mood now.”

“Cuz you’re a weirdo who gets off on play fighting, I bet.” 

His voice takes on a whiney pitch when he says, “Tell me what porn you watch!” 

“Honestly?” You’re tired of this conversation, but you see one last opportunity to toy with Hyuck before you hang up. “Hentaid on Porn Hub, I’m all about that alien, tentacle shit,” your voice takes on the air of a damsel in distress when you muse, “No mortal man can ever satiate me, I’m afraid.”

“Holy shit,” Hyuck whispers. “Are you for real? Tentacle porn?”

“Uh huh, now, goodnight, buddy.” You hang up on Hyuck with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing you’ve left him something to think about. 

Tuesday

“Hey,” you say, sitting down next to your best friend in the on-campus burger joint where you spend your Tuesday two-hour period between classes. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

Hyuck is mid-bite of a burger, and he holds up a hand, covering his obnoxious eating style. “Just a sec,” he mumbles. 

You wait patiently, staring at your friend while he finishes up. He’s in a black hoodie, and black t-shirt, and his laptop is open next to where he’s eating his combo meal. He’s usually here before you are, scoping out a booth and food so you two can chill in peace before your shared history course. 

History isn’t your major per se, it’s more of a special interest, and the same goes for Hyuck. He’s a film major- another obvious dent in his plan to fly under the radar as your phone stalker who just happens to know everything about horror movies. 

“Okay,” Hyuck says, swallowing the last of his large bite of food. “What’s up?”

“So on Sunday, I got a phone call from some dude with a burner phone,” you explain, watching closely as Hyuck’s brows raise just a moment too late to be legitimate surprise.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“He’s trying to recreate Johnny’s whole Ghostie thing from last year, but as is the case with most sequels in the horror genre, he’s kind of missing the mark.”

Hyuck chokes a little on his food, and he reaches for his Coke to wash it down. “What’s he doing wrong?”

“What an odd question, Hyuck,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “But, to answer it, he’s just… not loose enough. He feels too rigid. I gave him an in last night, if you know what I mean, and he just, fumbled it.”

“An in?” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“You know, an opportunity to be horny with me.”

“And you want him to be horny with you?”

“I mean, that’s the whole point isn’t it? He promised me he’d be more horny than Johnny was last year, but I feel like Johnny probably had this whole daddy dom thing down- I don’t know what this new guy is trying to give, but he’s not giving, you feel me?”

“Huh, that’s weird,” Hyuck shrugs, picking up his burger again. “Do you have any guesses who it might be?”

You shrug. “He told me it was someone I think is hot. So that means it could be Jaehyun- God, you know how sexy I think Jaehyun is,” - you’re relishing in the way you get to tease Hyuck like this - “it could be Jeno, or Jaemin- I don’t think I’d even mind if both of them came up to me on Halloween, full original Scream style- Jaemin is definitely the Stu Matcher character, though.” 

“Jeeze, Angel,” Hyuck grimaces, putting his burger down and leaning back in the booth. “Do you have to talk about two of my best friends tag teaming you while I’m eating?”

“Sorry, babes,” you snicker. “I just think this week is going to be fun, and I can’t wait for my Billy Halloween Christmas stalker to find his A-game.”

You half expect Hyuck to correct you on the movie title, and you see him bite his tongue, fighting the urge to throw his own cover under the bus in a bid to protect the sanctity of cult films. But alas, Hyuck shuts himself up with another bite of his burger, and with one last look at your friend, you pull out your laptop to actually get some work done.

Wednesday

“Hey, bud,” you answer your call with a grin, twirling your hair around your finger while your eyes skim your textbook. “What happened yesterday? You never called.”

“You looked busy,” comes a curt retort.

“Oh… did you see me with Hyuck?” you stifle a laugh, of course he’s going to play this jealousy angle, when in reality, he was probably just butthurt about you toying with him. 

“It was hard not to notice you with him,” he responds. 

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“What’s your relationship with him?”

God, Hyuck must be very desperate to be trying to get details out of you about how you feel about him, through his alter ego.

You take a deep breath, closing your book and leaning back in your chair. “We’re close,” you start.

“But just friends.” 

“Just friends,” you confirm. “I guess, I mean, obviously he’s cute. There’s no argument about Hyuck being cute. And he’s fun, he’s cocky, he’s mischievous- I guess my one concern with him is if he could do something long term. I may come off as a dirty little demon child, but in reality- I don’t want to put all my eggs in one guys basket if he’s busy collecting eggs, if that makes any sense.”

“You want a guy who just wants you, who puts in the effort.”

“Exactly.” 

“I’m putting in effort,” your ‘mystery man’ points out.

“I suppose this could be considered effort.” 

“I spent twenty five bucks on this burner phone.”

“Wow, buddy, that must have broke the bank.” 

“I have money!” he insists.

Hyuck definitely has money, it’s one of the reasons he’s probably so cocky. He comes from a large line of Lee’s, a family group that owns development all around the country. You’ve tried not to let any gold digging inklings stain your perception of the frat boy though, that wouldn’t be fair to him.

“Hey, friend?” you ask, choosing a base level nickname for this man who is clearly Hyuck.

“Yes, Angel?”

“Were you thinking about it yesterday?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Me, you know… watching alien tentacle porn and flicking my bean.” You try to make your voice sound innocent, but you can’t help the mischievous grin that works it’s way onto your face. 

You can hear him swallow thickly. “Hold that thought, I’m going to call you back.” 

“Wait-” before you can get an explanation, the line goes dead, and you release an annoyed huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He’s such a little shit, leaving you hanging like this-

Two minutes go by, then five- and just as you’re starting to be really annoyed, Hyuck calls you back.

“Took you long enough,” you snap.

“Listen, Angel, I needed to get in the mood. I’m too rigid talking to a pretty girl like you, had to take some of the load off.” You can tell, even under his modulated voice, that Hyuck has most definitely just gotten into some weed.

This is so classic him- and to be completely fair, you’ve witnessed the effects of Mary-Jane on one mister Lee Donghyuck. He’s much more suave while green, less anxious, more willing to take risks.

“So, to answer your question,” Hyuck continues, letting out a breath. “I have been thinking about you. Been thinking about your cute voice, how it would sound begging, whining, whimpering- what little noises you’d make choking on cock, or tentacle-” Hyuck laughs. “I’ll be honest, I don’t have an octopus dick or anything. If you let me, you’ll have to be okay with a human style back breaking.” 

You’re shocked.

Had he really just said all of this to you?

Was weed all it took for him to pull up his big boy panties and lay some actual sin onto you?

You can’t ignore the way your pussy flutters with interest at his words, and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I’m sure we can make it work… what kind of tool are you packing, buddy?” 

Hyuck chuckles. “It’s thick, I think it will do the job.”

Hyuck isn’t the tallest frat boy, but in no way is he the smallest either. He’s average, and to think that he has an above average girthy dick- well, you can’t help lick your lips in interest. 

“Stalker got your tongue, Angel?” Hyuck asks. “You’ve just gone awfully quiet.”

“I’m just…” you swallow thickly. “Just thinking.”

“About my thick cock splitting you open?” 

God, your pussy is throbbing now- “How… our first few calls were so awkward-”

“I promised you dirty, didn’t I? Needed some courage first, but… I can tell you’re not mad about it.” 

You’re definitely not mad about it.

You think maybe part of you would be upset if you didn’t know your ‘mystery caller’s’ identity- but the safety of knowing, in your heart of hearts, that this is Hyuck- it changes everything, and you can allow yourself to feel the pleasure already beating through you.

“I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

“So…” you find it hard to even speak because he’s so right about his assessment that it hurts. “So… you’re more of a switch?”

“I can be. Generally, I’m not about strict roles in the bedroom, but if you’re into that sort of thing, I can see what it’s about.” 

“Tell me more about being a switch?”

“Don’t want to give you too many details about myself, these calls are about you, Angel.” 

You let out a groan.

“Be patient,” he reminds you. “And tell me, are you as wet right now as I am hard?”

This time, the sound you release is really more of a moan, and it makes Hyuck chuckle darkly.

“I’ll take that as a yes… are you gonna touch yourself after this? Gonna do all the work I can’t do, not yet, anyway.” 

“Maybe…”

“I like the thought of that, two horny people, whacking off together after a phone call, different rooms, but we’ll be on each other’s minds.” 

You get the suspicion that Hyuck is going to be on your mind for a whole lot longer than simply your upcoming bean-flicking session. 

Thursday

“I’m here, I’m here! What’s the emergency!” Mark asks, out of breath, his cheeks flushed from the cold outside and having just run across campus.

“It’s not an emergency, don’t worry, just sit!” you tell him, pushing out a chair.

“Angel, you texted me, and I quote,” he pulls out his phone, “911, meet me at our spot in the library asap.”

“Well, I wanted you to come,” you shrug.

“God, you’re as much of a drama queen as Hyuck is,” Mark sighs, taking his seat across from you. 

“Speaking of Hyuck…” you grin, leaning forward and clasping your hands together, “your roommate decided to go full Ghostie this year.”

“Wait, he’s not doing Ghost Face for Halloween-”

“No, I mean, like, stalker phone call Johnny Ghostie,” you clarify. 

“What?” Mark’s expression is blank, and he looks completely unimpressed.

“Basically, he called me on Sunday, did this whole thing about doing a Black Christmas character or some shit- he’s been calling me from a burner phone with a voice modulator-”

“Jesus Christ,” Mark sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. 

“The moral of the story is, Halloween night, I’m calling dibs on your room.”

“My room?” Mark peaks out at you through his fingers.

“Your roommate has to get laid. Actually, scratch that, I have to get laid… with your roommate.” 

“This is so-” Mark groans. “I thought we were over this stalker Halloween thing to get girls. Don’t any of us have respect or standards anymore?”

“You’re frat boys, Mark, so the answer on that one is going to be a no from me.”

“Why are you even into this?” Mark questions further. “Like- what’s so sexy about any of this?”

“I mean… it shows Hyuck cares?”

“He cares enough to get a burner phone and a voice modulator and call you and be creepy and horny? Wow, what a huge chivalrous act of love.” 

You narrow your eyes at Mark Lee. “I’m not enjoying your sarcasm, mister.”

“And I’m not enjoying this,” Mark retorts, pointing between the two of you. “Fuck, fine, have my room on Halloween.”

“Last thing though, Hyuck can’t know that I know that he’s the one calling me.” 

“Wait, so this isn’t a bit? He’s committed to trying to trick you?” Mark leans back in his chair, his expression getting even more bleak. “The two of you are crazier than I thought.” 

As you open your mouth to respond, your phone rings, and you look down to see Hyuck’s burner ‘No Caller ID.’

“Heya, buddy,” you answer, bringing your finger to your lips to shush Mark.

“Watcha up to?”

“Just in the library with a friend.”

Hyuck’s tone shifts. “Which friend?”

“Mark, you probably know him.”

“Of course I know fucking Mark. Why’s he with you?” 

“Just chatting… why? You jealous?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!” You let out a laugh. “Buddy, settle down, we both know I’m not into Mark Lee, we’ve talked about this before.”

“We’ve never talked about Mark,” Hyuck responds, and you realize, you may have just betrayed that you know who he is-

“I mean, he wasn’t on my list with Jaehyun, or Jeno, or Jaemin-” you quickly cover your blunder, and Hyuck releases an annoyed sound.

“I get it, I get it,” he groans. “Fine, finish up your time with fucking Mark, then.” 

“Don’t be salty about this,” you warn.

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Friday

It’s the final day before Halloween, and if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Hyuck is working. The SVT and NCT frats are the primary workers at the on-campus bar, Skeets, so they have a deal that NCT works the Friday before Halloween, and SVT works the Saturday. 

Knowing these details, you’re also aware that it’s possible Hyuck won’t be home till three am, so you’re a little shocked when you get a call at one.

“Hi, Angel.”

“If it isn’t my favorite stalker,” you grin, pausing your horror film- in all truth, you’d decided to watch Black Christmas, and now you can see why Hyuck told you not to bother, he hasn’t nailed the deranged attitude of the main villain at all. 

“Watcha doin?”

“Not much, you?”

“Not much,” he responds.

“Are you sure?” you counter. “Cuz something tells me maybe you’re working right now… did you get a break, buddy?”

“I’m not working,” he insists. 

“Sure you’re not,” you laugh, dropping the line of questioning. “Hey, tell me again why you chose Billy from Black Christmas?” 

“Seriously?” Hyuck lets out a sigh. “I guess I just wanted… an excuse to be horny on the phone for you, even if it’s just for a week.”

He sounds defeated, and you’re not shocked. Halloween is the busiest night of the year at the bar Hyuck works at, if anything, you’re surprised he even had a moment to dip outside and call you.

“You’re cute,” you muse. “You sound tired, so I’ll let you go, but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You will.”

“And how will I know it’s you?” 

“You just will, goodnight, Angel.” 

Saturday 

You’ve just arrived at the frat party, and already, you’re on the hunt for Hyuck.

At this point, you’re tired of the games. You feel closer to Hyuck, in some odd, sinister sort of way- closer than you ever have before. And you’re tired of hiding it, tired of this weird cat and mouse- you just want to have a conversation with him, to get everything out into the open so you can truly discuss your feelings.

You find him by the beer pong table. He’s in a full denim fit, and you can’t put your finger on who he is as you approach.

“Hey, Hyuck,” you greet, tucking into his side so he can hear you over the music. “Nice Canadian Tuxedo.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asks.

“Uh…” You look at him blankly. “Are you talking about your denim costume? Or the way you’ve been calling me all week?”

Hyuck stares at you in shock. “Uh…” he clears his throat. “I’m Ken… you know, from the Barbie movie.” 

“Right…” you trail off, wondering if he’s going to touch on the Black Christmas side of things.

“Also… what do you mean? About me calling you all week?”

“Hyuck,” you sigh. “Please don’t try to avoid this. Just be honest. It’s you. I know it’s you.” 

He looks at you, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind.

“You told me you’d reveal yourself tonight,” you continue. “I know I kind of just threw you under the bus, maybe I ruined your master plan or something, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t know it’s one of my best friends who’s been calling me all week being horny.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice lowering. His eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to get a read on you.

“Hyuck,” you let out a laugh, “I’m not mad at all, but I think we should go to your room and talk this out a little, don’t you?”

“I guess that’s a good idea,” he acquiesces. 

“Then let’s go.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers so you can drag him to the stairs that lead to the second floor. You don’t say anything as you move, you’re on a mission, and what you need to discuss with him is better said alone than in a crowd of horny Halloween partygoers.

You make it to the privacy of his room, and you shut the door behind you. “So?”

“So?” Hyuck moves through the space, and you notice him heading for his bong.

“Hey, don’t do that,” you sigh.

“Don’t do what?” he asks.

“You don’t need to get high to have this conversation.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t want you to be high when we do this.” 

Hyuck lets out another deep breath. “This isn’t how I planned things.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” you admit, watching him take a seat on his bed. “How did you see tonight panning out?” 

“I suppose I figured I could get some drinks in, liquid courage, that sort of thing. And then, maybe I’d reveal myself at the end of the night or something.”

“Are you really so scared of me that you need to be drinking to confess how you feel?” you ask, melting a little. You approach Hyuck, sitting carefully on the bed next to him while he faces clear inner turmoil.

“I’m not afraid,” he states, but you can tell from the tone of his voice that there’s something else going on. “I just… You told me you only want a man who can commit, a guy who only has eyes for you- and, I do, but… we both know my playboy track record, and I guess… I just worry about hurting you.”

“Do you want to hurt me?” you question, tilting your head as you try to understand him.

“No, never.”

“Do you think you’re at the point where you could settle down a little? I’m not trying to get you to stop partying, I just mean… committing to one girl, is that something you think you’re capable of?”

“If it’s you, then yeah… I think so,” he nods, finally meeting your eyes.

He looks so vulnerable, and it’s very different from how you usually view your mischievous friend.

“Hyuck,” you whisper, unable to help the way your hand raises to cup his cheek. “I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. If there’s something real here, and it’s not just you being a horny, dumb frat boy.”

“Okay, rude,” Hyuck laughs, showing you a glimmer of the him that you know and love, “It’s more than being horny… but… in all honesty, seeing you in this fucking faerie costume has me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” You lean closer, grinning. Your lips ghost over his when you say your next words, “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Hyuck sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating- you’re so close to him, and you can make out all the pretty shades of brown in his irises. Gosh, he really is a pretty frat boy. 

His hands find your hips, and he tugs your body closer. You can feel him breathing, his gaze darting between your own and your mouth. You watch his tongue dip out to wet his lips, and he swallows thickly.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, finally smashing his lips to your own. 

It’s not gentle by any means, but it’s not necessarily aggressive either- one word to describe this kiss, is: desperate. He’s so eager, and you kind of love it, love the way he tugs you flush to his own body, one hand moving to cup your cheek- his tongue glides against your own and you stifle a moan, shifting in his embrace so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

It feels so good to be pressed against him like this- you’re actually kind of shocked at how good it feels. And his hands, exploring your body, keeping you close, fingers digging into your hips-

Hyuck is everywhere, devouring you like you’re his last meal.

“Oh,” you whisper, when Hyuck’s mouth moves to your neck. “By the way, I called dibs on your room with Mark, he won’t be bothering us.”

Your dumb frat boy pulls away from your throat, a grin on his face. “You really knew it was me all along, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, buddy,” you laugh.

Hyuck shakes his head, reaching to lock the door before his hands ensnare you again. He pushes his body against yours, urging you to move backward until your calves hit the bed. Before pushing you down, he removes your faerie costume wings, and only once the more delicate part of your costume is discarded, does he shove you onto his mattress.

“Hyuck,” you giggle, looking up at him with starry eyes.

“You look so good like this,” Hyuck muses, tugging his denim ‘Ken’ style vest off to reveal a body hardened from Frat mandated work out brother time. He’s not too big, not too built- Hyuck still has some pudge on him, but you kind of love it. You love that it’s not a full six pack and bulging biceps- you can imagine that when this is all done, he’ll be lovely to cuddle with.

In fact, you’re not sure it would matter how muscled Hyuck is. Sure, it helps that he’s physically fit and hot, but- at this point in your friendship, you’re attracted to him for so much more than his body.

No man makes you laugh like him. No man has spent the time that he has to understand you and make you feel comfortable with him knowing you, the true you, the you that you don’t get to show many others.

Hyuck is just… he’s good for you, and he always has been. That goodness has so far been a friend capacity sort of thing, but you’re excited about the new development in your relationship. You think there’s true potential with him, and it makes you dizzy as you stare up at one of your best friends.

“I kind of want to eat you out, Angel,” Hyuck admits, one hand finding your thigh and pushing your short dress even higher up  your leg.

“Funny, I kind of want to suck you off,” you grin, lifting one foot out of your shoe to tease your toes across the front of his jeans.

“So… sixty-nine?” Hyuck asks, gently tracing his fingers across your exposed skin, setting tingles of pleasure off to erupt and skitter through your form.

“That would work, but… I guess… I kind of want to lay with my head lolled off the side of the bed, your cock in my mouth, and your fingers pinching at my nipples while I work my own clit at the same time.”

“Jesus,” Hyuck breathes, swallowing thickly as he looks up at you. “How could I say no to that?” 

“Then, when I’m close to cumming, you can eat me out, get me there, then fuck me stupid for your own release.”

“It’s funny,” Hyuck chuckles, “Here I thought I was the horny one calling you and trying to be a creep, but you’re the one with the dirty mouth and the great ideas.”

“Yeah, your whole Black Christmas thing really wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever heard,” you tease.

“How many times do I have to admit it was a shitty plan but I just wanted to get close to you?”

“At least once more.”

“Fine. Now flip around, loll your head off my bed, let me put my cock down your throat and pinch your nipples while you toy with your cute pussy.”

“How do you know my pussy is cute?” you ask. “You haven't even seen it yet.”

“I’ve been imagining, baby, and as a film major, my imagination is pretty fucking good.”

You giggle, getting into position for Hyuck. He stands near your head as you loll it off the side of the bed, and you get a good view of his bulge straining in his jeans.

“You’re excited,” you muse, cupping him through the denim.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he laughs, undoing his button, then the zipper. “Fuck, you look so good laid out like this.”

“Yeah?” You pull the top of your dress down, releasing your boobs.

“Fuuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pausing his motions on his jeans to reach down and massage your newly exposed breast. “I knew your tits would be perfect.”

You moan at the feeling of his warm hands. His fingers pinch at your nipple and your moan turns into a whine. “Feels good.”

“You feel good,” he counters.

“Get your cock out,” you instruct, feeling impatient.

“Start rubbing your pussy,” Hyuck retorts with a laugh.

“Yes, sir,” you respond teasingly, reaching one of your hands down to your thighs. You slip it under your dress, deciding on taking your panties off alltogether. 

Hyuck continues to massage you as you pull off your thong. 

You can’t help yourself, you toss it at him, and Hyuck lets go of your breast in favour of catching it. “Fuck, these are cute,” he says, admiring your panties.

“I knew I’d be getting laid.”

His tone shifts to the darker, more annoyed side of things. “Yeah?”

“And don’t get all angsty, I knew I’d be fucking you tonight.” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Hyuck grins, putting your panties in his pocket before he undoes his jeans, shifting them down his thighs.

The fucker isn’t wearing underwear, and you get a good view of his cock for the first time.

“Fuck, dude, you weren’t lying when you said you were thick,” you muse, licking your lips.

“I’d never lie to you about my cock,” he laughs.

You slip one hand between your thighs, stroking your wet core- it’s crazy how turned on you are from this, but part of you thinks this has been building for a while- for a week, actually.

Hyuck strokes his cock, looking down at you. “Ready for this?” he asks.

“Put it in my mouth,” you command, opening wide for him.

“If I’m going to deep, push my thigh,” he tells you as he slips his cock past your lips.

You moan a sound of affirmation around him, immediately beginning to suck on his tip, getting used to his size before you take more.

Hyuck is surprisingly gentle with how much he’s allowing you to take. If you hadn’t been pacing yourself, you’re sure he’d be pacing you of his own accord. 

One of his hands finds your breast again, pinching the nipple and sending jitters of pleasure down to your throbbing core.

You groan louder around him, sucking more into your mouth as you increase the pressure on your clit.

“This is so fucking hot,” Hyuck moans, thrusting gently into your mouth so you can lay flat and still, allowing him to do most of the work while you rub your pussy deliciously.

You can only let out a sound of affirmation as he uses your mouth.

With your eyes closed, you can focus fully on the feeling of pleasure that’s building inside of you. 

When you’d imagined fucking Hyuck for the first time, this hadn’t necessarily been a position at the forefront of your thoughts- but when he’d suggested eating you out, you’d realized this is exactly what you’d wanted. 

You want to give back to him, want to show him how much you’ve appreciated him taking the leap and telling you how he feels- even if it was in some weird, dumb frat boy, phone call kind of way. 

The way he’s pinching your thighs is actually delicious- and then, you hear him spit, and you feel the cool liquid hit your chest. This time, when he rubs his thumb over your nipple, he spreads his spit across your skin, making it even more intense.

“Part of me just wants to cum on these perfect tits,” he admits.

You make a very clear sound of disagreement, and Hyuck pulls his cock out of your mouth. You’d been salivating so much that as he moves away, your own saliva drips back down onto your face from his length. You swallow thickly, finding your voice. “Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Fuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pinching your nipple even harder. “You and your creampie kink.”

He slips his cock back into your mouth, and you greedily eat him up.

Then he leans further over your body, his fingers joining yours on your core. “You’re so fucking wet,” he muses, pushing your hand out of your way so he can rub your clit, gently fucking your face as he does so.

It’s a shallow face fucking, as he’s bent over your laid down body to access your core, but you don’t mind.

Your eyes are still closed, and you’re enjoying every sensation, bringing your free hands up to your breasts to massage them and pinch your own nipples.

“You look so sexy, want you to cum so bad so I can fuck you stupid,” he tells you, rubbing your clit even harder.

You rut your hips up toward his hand, a non verbal motion that tells him you’re close.

God, it’s like he’s been in your pants before- he knows exactly how to stroke and massage your clit-

“And you’re still sucking me off so good-” he continues. “And grabbing at your tits too, you’re my insatiable little Angel, aren’t you?”

You moan deeply around his cock, and Hyuck fucks you a little harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, feeling tears in your eyes.

“Shit, sorry, Angel, fuck, that just felt so good- can I do it again? Can I fuck your throat again?”

You make a sound of affirmation, shocked at how your body had reacted to his cock being fully inside of your mouth. A tingle of excitement had run through you, your nipples getting intensely sensitive, your core throbbing-

Hyuck does it again, hitting the back of your throat, and the same sensation happens. You can feel yourself getting desperately close to the edge, and you hardly have to do anything. Other than pinching your own nipples, Hyuck is the one taking care of you, and you kind of love it.

“I can tell you’re close, Angel,” Hyuck chuckles. “Fuck, gonna cum from me fucking your face and rubbing your clit, right?”

You moan desperately, wiggling your hips. Hyuck reads your cue, rubbing your clit even harder.

Now, you can’t help but pull off his cock, pushing his thigh to give you a bit of space.

“You good?” he asks, motions pausing.

“Yeah,” you tell him, swallowing thickly as you grab his cock to stroke him off. “Just keep- fuck, keep rubbing me like that, I’m so close-”

“Fuck this,” Hyuck mutters, and all of the sudden, he’s pulling away.

You let out a whine- only for him to spin you on his bed. He sinks to his knees, drawing your core to the edge where your head had just been, then he dives in, his lips immediately suctioning around your clit.

Two fingers push into your aching core and you whimper desperately, grabbing at his hair to keep him on your pussy as he works you closer and closer-

“Hyuck-” you cry out, muscles clenching-

One more slurp on your clit has you topping over the edge, entire body electrified by the orgasm surging through you.

You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds as he works you through your high. He doesn’t quit, doesn’t pull away- he sucks your clit through your entire high, until your thighs are shaking on his shoulders and you’re on the verge of tears.

“Okay-” you whimper, pushing at his head. “Sensitive-”

Hyuck finally lets up. You open your eyes to watch him stand, pulling his fingers from your core and sliding them into his own mouth.

“You taste just like Halloween candy, baby,” he muses, eyes clouded with lust.

“I wanna taste,” you whisper.

Hyuck pushes his jeans completely off, and then he gets on top of you, smashing his lips to your own. The flavour of your pussy is hot on his tongue, and it invades your senses, driving you wild as you kiss him deeper, threading your fingers through his hair.

His cock nudges between your pussy lips as he grinds down against you, rocking his hips.

“Fuck me,” you tell him, moving your mouth to suck on his ear lobe.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, shivering from the sensation of your tongue on his ear. “Want you naked first.”

He pulls away just long enough to tug your dress up and over your head, then he returns to his spot, his cock rutting against your core once more.

The two of you have been friends forever. Hyuck knows you have an IUD, he’d been there for you when you’d gotten it last year, when you’d just wanted to stay in bed and rot for a few days. There’s no need to discuss birth control or safety- all there’s left to do, is have his thick cock fill you in ways you’ve been wanting all week.

Hyuck adjusts, grabbing his base so he can push his tip into your throbbing hole.

“Fuck,” you whimper in his ear, clutching his shoulders as he pushes an inch into you.

“You good?” he asks, breath hot on your throat.

“So good,” you respond, locking your legs around his hips.

He pushes deeper into your pussy, and your core welcomes him in, walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. 

Hyuck bottoms out, and you both groan deeply. He forces his lips onto your own again, and it’s a clash of teeth and tongues.

It’s animalistic in the best sort of way- like you’ve both been caged up for as long as you’ve known each other, and you’re finally letting your beasts out to do the most primal thing imaginable.

There are no thoughts in your mind as Hyuck begins to fuck you, there’s only you, him, and this intense feeling of pleasure.

You feel so connected to him- missionary isn’t always the most fun position, but with Hyuck, it feels right. It feels like this was meant to be your first time together, face to face, lip locked, breathing each other in, moaning desperately as he takes you as his own.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, gently biting on your lip. “Your pussy is taking me so fucking well- first your mouth, now this- how do you expect me to last long?”

“I don’t,” you giggle. “You made me cum so hard on your tongue, I’m about ready to be filled with your cum and then lay here.”

“I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you after this.”

“You better,” you grin.

Hyuck smiles against your lips, kissing you again as he fucks you even harder.

The stretch of his girthy cock is unlike anything else- and it feels like heaven as he pounds you into his mattress.

“Rub your clit?” he suggests.

“I can’t- I can’t cum again,” you whimper, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“I’ll have to train you to cum more after this,” he promises.

You can only grin, drawing his lips to your own again as he uses you to find the ends of his own pleasure.

His whimpering sounds are like music to your ears- fuck, Hyuck is too hot to even imagine. Had this guy really been one of your best friends for this long without you ever exploiting this?

You’re so fucking happy he’d called you and been weird all week- it was the perfect foreplay, and now, you’re completely enraptured by him.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans. 

“You close, baby?” you ask.

“Fuck, call me baby again.”

“Baby,” you whimper, “your cock feels so good in my tight pussy.”

Hyuck moans even louder. 

“Just like that,” you encourage him, tightening your legs on his hips. “Keep doing that- right there-” The tip of his cock is hitting the perfect spots inside of you, and you’re gasping from the feeling, burrowing your face in his throat and panting against his skin.

“Shit, Angel-”

“Cum for me, baby, cum in my pussy,” you urge him.

That’s all it takes for him to explode, letting out a deep groan as he releases deep inside your core, coating your walls with him.

His thrusts falter, his breathing laboured, entire body shivering-

You stroke the back of his head, cooing in his ear, helping him through it until he’s finished, coming to a stop ontop of you and breathing heavily.

“Good boy,” you tease.

Hyuck lets out a deep chuckle, and it turns into a sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And you’d love that.”

“I would,” he admits. “Okay, fuck, I’m gonna pull out, gonna grab some tissues and sweat pants- we can head to the bathroom down the hall and hopefully clean up a little, then we’re gonna cuddle.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” you grin, laying there as he groans and gets off of you, following through with his intentions.

Soon, cum is being wiped from your pussy and you’re being helped into sweatpants.

The two of you exit his room, and you’re very pleased to see that most of the party is downstairs, leaving his floor pretty vacant. 

You make your way to the bathroom with him, clutching his hand.

Once there, you both clean up, and you listen to Hyuck splash water on his face while you pee, making sure all his cum is out of you.

The two of you make it back to his room, collapsing into bed. He pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close.

“Before I pass out… how did you know it was me on the phone?” he asks.

“Out of everyone in the frat, you idolize Johnny the most. It wasn’t a reach that you’d recreate his Ghostie thing last year. On top of that, you’re a film major, you know horror movies better than anyone else. And, you’re a horny fucker, which is something I’ve always loved about you- I just… I needed you to make a move, which you never really did, until now. It just… made sense that it was you. The way we talk to each other, I could tell it was you from the very first call.”

“Here I was, thinking I was all suave and shit.”

“You were very suave, baby,” you grin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Happy Halloween, Angel.”

You giggle. “Happy Halloween.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! find my other nct frat fics (including Ghostie) HERE. I made this meme for this fic because it's so them.

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🔮 preview. “So, I’m gonna finger fuck you stupid,” he explains, pushing his digits back into you. “And then, I’m going to apply pressure, right here-” Hyuck’s hand smooths across your abdomen, even the slightest push makes you feel his fingers deep in your core, and you release a whine of pleasure. “Yeah, you’re going to love this,” he confirms with a grin. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving), pussy worship, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, squirting, dirty talk, praise, Hyuck holds the reader down by her abdomen, etc… I petnames: (y/n’s) Angel. (his) Baby. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

You love Hyuck, you do- but sometimes (especially when watching movies) he has this tendency to… well, never shut up.

“Okay so, coming up, when the alien pops out of his body, the director didn’t tell anyone this was going to happen, so when Sigourney Weaver and the others react, it’s genuine shock and surprise-”

You love his facts too, you do… but… sometimes, they get a bit much.

“Baby,” you coo, cuddling closer to your boyfriend, “Can we just… watch the movie?”

“We are watching the movie.”

“I mean… God, I’m going to sound like a bitch, but can we get through like… ten minutes without a fun fact?”

“But… my fun facts are fun.”

“They are, baby, they are,” you assure him, patting his chest, “I just…” you sigh, “ten minutes?”

“I can think of a distraction for my mouth,” Hyuck grins.

Your pussy immediately flutters, picking up on what he’s saying. “Yeah? Don’t you want to watch the movie?”

“I’ve seen it a billion times.” His hand rubs your shoulder and he nuzzles against your cheek, breath hot on your skin. “Come on, let me eat out your pretty pussy. I’ve been wanting to overstim you for a hot minute- I think I could get three or four out of you while you’re watching.”

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[galedekarios]

just musing about gale and his parents:

we only have a handful of conversations where he mentions his parents and when he does, it's usually only his mother, morena dekarios.

his mother is mentioned at several points in the game. during a custom protag playthrough, he mentions her in a datamined conversation that appears to be bugged/broken:

and he mentions her at the end of the game as well when he proposes to the player:

i was also able to find another mention in a banter with karlach that usually happens for me shortly after recruiting her:

from gale's origin, this aspect is explored even more deeply:

there's more, of course, and it very clearly shows that the bond he shares with his mother is a deep and loving one from both sides. it's also very interesting that he is called dekarios after his mother and not--even though naming conventions could certainly vary even in waterdeep--after his father.

who he doesn't mention at all.

the only time we do get a vague mention is during a conversation with the protag after saving mirkon from the harpies:

after that, i haven't been able to find any reference, indirect or direct, to gale's father in the game.

so, here we enter theory territory:

i feel that, from a narrative point of view, in keeping with what i think gale's themes are, gale's father may have abandoned gale and his mother when gale was still young.

gale's character is rife with what might be interpreted as abandonment issue and it makes sense to me at least that those weave through his life up until the point where the protag meets him in the game.

another theme with gale is that he appears to have a lot of female figures in this life, who all had a profound impact on him, whether that impact is positive or negative: morena, tara, and yes, mystra.

it feels like to me that he had no father figure--and i use that term a bit more loosely here--until later in his life with elminster. this is already hinted at in a game with a custom protag, but all the more solidified in a gale origin playthrough:

i think without directing telling you, the game does allow you to sort of guess at that part of his background in this way, and understand why gale is as he is as a consequence. you can also understand why he acts as he does with elminster. seeking his approval. yearning for it. being extremely hurt by elminster having to see him like this when mystra sends him to gale to deliver her... instructions. this almost pointed absence of a mention of his father in all his comments (and tara's too, now that i think about it) when it comes to family is glaring to me.

being left, being abandoned, makes it much more understandable to me why he doesn't speak of him at all: if gale's father had died, it would make more sense to me that he would remark on it or share it in some way or another. it might have come up in a banter with wyll, perhaps, who is struggling with the expectations his own father had placed on him.

"he died when i was still very young." perhaps, or something along the lines of, "i barely remember him; he died when i was only a child.", etc etc etc.

YET if gale's father indeed abandoned his mother--who he holds in such high regard, and not to mention his own hurt--i can easily see and understand why he wouldn't waste a word on him.

anyhow yes, this is long and ramble-y, and i 100% might be reading too much into what may be a simple oversight, but it was interesting to me and i still see it as tying in with the theme of abandonment, even though we don't know the reasons for it in this particular case.

was it not wishing to deal with a child with magical talents he couldn't control yet? was it for another reason entirely?

[lxndonorris]

kisses and stubbles - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching prompt: "why are you looking at me like that? Are you planning to kiss me?" You're with Lando before qualifying begins, and he won't stop teasing you x word count: 1500+

It's always a pleasure to accompany Lando, your boyfriend, during race weekends, especially after he's been performing very well. This year has been a steady up and down, like an actual rollercoaster, but for a few races now, the Mclaren is pretty competitive, leading to more and more podiums for both Lando and his teammate Oscar.

Right now, it's Friday, testing day, and you're sitting inside Lando's private motorhome, a place you've learned to appreciate. You're wearing your boyfriend's merchandise—actually, his worn clothes; they're a bit too large for you, but you don't mind. After all, he loves you in those clothes.

With a coy smile, you're watching him put his racing gear on. One leg at a time, he slides into the lower half of the fireproofs. Its fabric flatters his body perfectly—tight yet flexible.

Lando's back is turned toward you, exposing his firm back, with all of its muscles tensing more and more. He runs both of his hands along his thighs, down to his toes, as he bends down. It is not only an easy exercise to stretch, preparing his body for the upcoming session, but also an excellent way to show off his beautiful physique.

Without turning around and looking at you, he knows that you're enjoying the show. Licking your lips, you watch him grab the upper half of his undergarments. In one swift movement, he slips inside it and adjusts himself and his body to the tight fabric.

You stare, transfixed, as he lunges, stretching his legs, his arms, and his back. He grunts barely, and as he exhales, he lets out a long sigh.

Before putting on his racing suit, however, he runs both of his hands across his entire body, including his chest, arms, thighs, and waist. Lando purrs happily as he touches himself gently. A shy smirk forms in the corner of your lips as you hold back a soft, breathless giggle. However, it seems like he might have heard you.

Letting out a low grunt, Lando turns around, running both of his hands across his firm chest. Again, on the one hand, it's to simply straighten his clothes, but he wouldn't deny teasing you at the same time.

With one eyebrow raised, he studies you. With the feeling of his burning gaze on your skin, you shudder, but try to keep a straight face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He bites his lower lip and subconsciously brushes over his crotch with one of his hands, while the other strokes his chest again and again.

Blushing slightly, you just admire his well-formed body and that he is willingly showing off again. Your eyes wander across his chest—his abs are slightly visible through the white fabric, as are his pecs and nipples—down to his thighs and right back to his gorgeous face.

Lando tilts his head slightly, still waiting for the answer he already knows. He's still trying to read you, knowing very well the effect that wearing his racing gear has on you.

"Why? Can't I look at my beautiful man?" You smirk, crossing your arms in front of your chest as your entire body starts to heat up.

He runs a hand through his hair and lets his eyes wander all over your body again, looking for anything that could give you away.

There is that special kind of tingling spreading through your chest. Any time he looks at you like that, it feels like your heart is accelerating at an immense speed, and your breath is barely able to keep up.

Mirroring you, he crosses his arms as well. Your eyes can't help straying to the strong flex of his biceps straining under the sleeves of his shirt before you pull away, meeting his gaze once more.

"I guess that's fair." He growls, but there is that spark hidden beneath his beautiful eyes that you know all too well. Your face heats as you imagine him pressing his bare chest against yours every time you lie in bed with one another.

Lando opens his mouth slightly and approaches you. When he stands right in front of you, he bends down so that your faces are just inches apart.

"I was just wondering." He lets out a guttural growl. "Are you planning to kiss me, or what?"

As he breathes into your mouth, your face flushes with color, and you feel drawn toward him, drawn to his soft lips. Your lips meet, and it's giving you goosebumps right away.

It's a mixture of his familiar sweet scent, the feeling of his soft lips on yours, and the excitement of being here in the paddock with him. Enjoying his light stubble as well, a smile forms on your lips.

You steady yourself against his firm chest and feel his firm body through the thin fabric of his clothes. Your thumb brushes over his nipple, causing him to take a deep breath before purring right into your mouth.

Once, then twice, you kiss him back, craving much more, but yet he pulls away.

"Mhmmm." He growls, one hand on his chest, the other gently on your thighs.

"That felt good." You smile shyly, feeling his hand gently pet your thighs.

"Just give me a moment." He smiles warmly. "Let me put on that suit, and we can go for another."

Leaning in, he breathes down your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Many more."

Straightening your back, you take in a deep breath, enjyoing the scent of his cologne tingling in your nose.

With anticipation building up inside your chest, you watch him put on his racing suit. He looks so good in his racing gear, and he knows it.

His suit is still unzipped, exposing the dark fireproofs underenath, but he turns his attention back toward you and sits down right next to you on the sofa.

Lando puts his arm around you, pulling you into him. You can feel the heat radiating from his body through his clothes, and right away, you let one of your hands slide inside his open suit, stroking his firm chest once more.

Enjoying this, he tilts his head again, biting his lower lip.

"I'm glad you could come this weekend." He growls and lets his fingers run down your arm, and even though his fingertips just barely brush over your skin, it feels so good.

"Me too." You say it softly and lean into him again.

His intense gaze ignites a spark in you. You can't explain it, but you know you want more. Lando's entire body is drawing you in, and it doesn't take long for you to give in to the tug.

Right away, he embraces your lips on his own, and as he opens his mouth to let out a soft moan, he breathes right down your throat. Waves of shivers run down your entire back, and you give in to him.

With a little help from him, you climb on top of him. He holds you close with both of his hands on your waist while you steady yourself against his strong chest.

Using both of your hands, you touch him and feel all of his muscles tense more and more, causing Lando to turn his head slightly to catch his breath.

"Y/N." He moans audibly and starts to stroke the small of your back, feeling your hands run down his chest, further down inside his suit.

Bending his back, he tries to make room for his ever-growing excitement inside his trousers.

"Lando. Fuck." You breathe deeply.

As you grind on him, he easily matches your pace and intensity. With one hand still inside his suit, stroking his chest and focusing on his pecs and nipples, you let the other hand slide right between the two of you, feeling a tent building up underneath his clothes.

Lando chuckles a low, husky sound that echoes through every fiber of your body, sending heat flaring in

your belly. His hips roll against your own as he adjusts to the rhythm of your hand now stroking his bulge through his suit.

"Mhmm." Drawing an unsteady breath, you lean closer to him, fitting the curves of your body against his.

You can feel the shudder of his own breath speeding up and the tightening of his body against yours as he desires you so much more.

"Fuck." He growls, leaning his head back against the sofa, giving in to your firm touch.

You begin to place kisses all over his neck and his jaw, enjoying how his light stubble tingles your skin.

Then, however, the alarm on his phone goes off, catching both of you off guard.

You pull away to let him check his phone, and with a huge sigh, he shows you the screen. It's time for them to join the others inside the Mclaren garage; it's training day after all.

"Two more minutes." You pout, and a wicked smile spreads across his face.

"Two more minutes." He growls and leans in to you, kissing you again.

---

[cookie-crumblr]

Red Lily Down

GN! Reader x Bunny Hybrid Harem

Part 1~

Introductions

Their Info: 💐🐰✨

Part: 1 2

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, GN! Reader, No pronouns used for reader, no genitalia descriptions mentioned for reader, bunny hybrid reader/mostly all of the harem is an animal hybrid of some kind, NSFW: sexual themes all throughout, every named character wants you, non con touching, smut, no sex yet! nipple touching

Disclaimer: This harem’s theme is based off of a mix of Roots of Pacha and Watership Down. Not intended to represent any real or specific person/time/place/ or culture!

“Wakey, wakey sleepyhead!” You fling open the thick curtains to Azure’s room.

He was already awake, but he’s got a fierce mix of laziness, and craving you as a daily wake up call. So he was well prepared to stay cooped up for a while. “You’re the sleepyhead, been waitin’ all mornin’ for you,” He pats the cushy bedding beside him, inviting you to join.

You gleefully hop over. As you begin your decent, his arms fully envelope you, and pull you into his body. You snuggle against him as he inhales the top of your head deeply. “You shouldn’t crawl into everyone’s beds, Y/n… Especially a guy’s, like mine…” He pauses, before he scowls, “Or Lore’s. Stay away from her’s too.”

Your heart thumps at the connotations to his words, and the proximity to his hot body that you’re far more aware of now. The way his body contours to you perfectly…

“But… You’re my friends!” You try and keep the fact that your burning up now hidden. Try as you might, it doesn’t stop the fact that you both can hear the sound of each others blood pumping faster, and harder.

“Don’t pretend your heart didn’t just jump,” he nuzzles into your head further, “and your so warm…” His hand finds your chest through your top and squeezes softly.

You jump out of his bed at once, “I’m gonna be late for my checkup with Llyr!” An excuse, sure. But true nonetheless.

“Tell ‘em i’ll kill him if he touches you.” He growls as he rolls over in a huff.

“He has to touch me!” Your face warms, “He’s the healer, Azure.” You roll your eyes at his back.

Azure grumbles and sinks further into the pillows and hay, “I’ll still kill ‘em…”

On your walk through the warren you feel uneasy… Something is definitely watching you.

“Oooooh Llyr! I’m here~!” You enter the vine covered healer’s hut with a mighty flourish, ready to get your business out of the way.

“Perfect! Welcome, Y/N! please, have a seat here,” His back is turned as he speaks. You can hear the sound of him using a mortar and pestle to grind something into a mushy, grainy substance. The sound persists through several long moments, a growing nervousness is able to sink in…

It’s just a check up! You breathe in.

“There… Now, Y/N, i need you to eat this.” He addresses you.

“What is it?” you inspect the bowl, it’s just a mushy, herby ball.

“You don’t want it?” His smile remains even.

“I guess I do…” Unaware of his special ingredient, you gulp it down… You trust the warren healer.

It tastes like roots and spice.

You don’t feel any different.

“Good. Now, take off your shirt”

“Oh… Okay….” Whether you’re used to having it off or not, you still feel embarrassed to do it for him. You cover yourself with your arms until he pulls them away.

“There, good job,” he coos gently. Your cheeks feel warmer.

He leans his head against your now bare chest, fuzzy blonde ear resting all the way up over your shoulder. “I need to hear your heartbeat clearly,” He reaches up your torso.

“O-kayyy—EEP!” As you’re speaking he tweaks your nipple.

“Good~” he coos, “Good response,”

He’s rolling your nipple now.

“Mm… I-Is th-this—necessary?” You question.

“Heyyy, Y/n~!” The warren’s playboy, and your ex, enters through the beaded curtain with a certain undeniable swagger.

The healer puts his arms up in surrender, “Mateo,” though his eyes crinkle into a smile, he’s anything but innocent.

“Been sent by chief to come get them” A sly smirk spreads across Mateo’s face as he helps you back into your clothes.

He rakes his fingers up your arm, leaving goosebumps behind. His hand trails the edge of your ear, and he leans over top of you to blow a little puff of air into it. Your insides heat up, and you cover your face shylly.

“I-uh… Gotta forage with Aster soon anyway! sorry Llyr” You follow him out.

After you’ve both gotten outside and away from curious glances, he pins you to the closest earthen hut. His hand finds your ear to play with yet again, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you…”

“How many people have you said that to?” You roll your eyes.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I should have never cheated on you…”

“We were together for like one summer when we were like seventeen cycles old.” While you speak you brush away his roaming hands.

He grabs you by the hips, and pushes you harder against the wall. His passion and frustration mixing for you specially. “I never stop thinking of you. Truly. It’s not even sexual all the time!” You feel his breath against your lips, and turn away.

“Wow that’s such an accomplishment for you. I’m soo honored.” You say, sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom. “I’ll go find the chief myself.”

When you walk away, he’s left there somehow looking more hot than when he came to get you. Disheveled, hot and bothered… Craving you.

On your way, you continue to feel watched…

You open the woven bramble door to Chief Winter’s carved stone hut.

“Ah there you are, little one, have you come to a decision?” Winter is sitting, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back. His one green orb takes in all of you. Your own eyes wander across every deeply carved muscle on his body, stopping in wonder at every beautifully thick and jagged scar.

You notice him smile, pleased that youre enjoying his glorious visage. He uncrosses his legs and his loincloth is tented by something absolutely massive. Your mouth is suddenly very dry. “Yes sir… I mean no sir! I mean—! I don’t know yet… Sir!” You blather.

He asked you a moon cycle ago if you wanted to be his mate.

He laughs heartily, “Do not fret, little one, I find you most endearing.” His smile is warm and inviting, a stark contrast to such a hardened looking man. “But, I’m sure you have duties to attend to. You are dismissed. Do visit whenever though,”

“Y/n! Hey!” Lore pops out from nowhere and makes you jump.

“Lore! Gods, you scared me!” Hand over heart, you try to speak without gasping.

“Hehe! Sorry!” She shifts her attention to the chief, “See ya Winter!”

He smiles and gives you a nod as you’re dragged out by the bard.

Something is still watching you. You can sense it every time you’re no longer sheltered by the indoors.

She clings to your arm as you both walk through the crabgrass and clovers between huts. “When’s our next slumber party?” She puts her bottom lip out and gives you her best puppy dog eyes. She’s adorable.

“I donno, Azure said I shouldn’t be getting into everyone’s beds anymore…”

Her grip tightens painfully, “and… Where were you when he said that?”

“in…”

“His bed. Hm.” Lore pulls a jagged flint knife out of her belt. “Be right back, Y/n~”

you grab her arm, “Wait! could you please stop threatening eachother?”

“But!!! UHG! he needs to die.” She folds her arms, and tilts her head up defiantly, her back is turned to you.

You lean over her shoulder to get direct access to her ear. “No he does not, Lore. I’d never forgive you,”

“F-fine.” Steeling herself with a deep breath, she re-sheathes the knife. “You owe me though…”

“What do you want?” You ask.

“A sleepover! Duh!” She touches your chest, “And…” Her lips crash softly against yours, the scent of sweet herbs carries on her. “That.” She pulls back to look into your eyes before she saunters away happily.

You notice the position of the sun and almost shriek! Aster is so gonna rub it in your face if he forages more than you.

You hurry home to grab your favorite basket and head to the forest to join Aster. On your way, you feel that you’re being hunted.

“Hey Y/n~ Wanna make it a game day?” Aster’s basket is already a quarter full of little fruits and mushrooms, so he’s going to win, but…

“Sure, why not” You giggle.

“Usual rules, loser has to do whatever the winner says…” You don’t quite notice the devilish sparkle to his smile, so you naturally agree. Gotta have fun while you do your duties!

Your basket fills fast enough, you still lose, though it’s not like you didn’t see it coming.

Once you’ve both turned in your efforts of the day, Aster finds you at the banquet. You were putting your bowl away after cleaning it, when his arms snake around you.

“Loser…” He taunts.

“Hah! Aster, no need to be a sore winn—” His hand travels down to your bottoms. “er…”

“Shh. Do whatever I say, remember?” Fingertips find your skin now, brushing barely over it. “stand still.”

Shaking legs and all, you obey to your best ability.

He finds a sweet spot, eliciting a small gasp, and he stays there. Your brows knit, and you close your eyes. he pushes down harder, but still gently.

“Next time, I’m gonna take you.” His breath tickles your neck as he whispers.

You shiver, eyes wide.

[ozzgin]

Hiii💕💕💕 Could you please make some hc with musashi and jun from baki please?

Yet another ancient request, so sorry about it. I've been struggling to think of a context, but as Valentine's Day approached, I thought, "Well, might as well turn this into a special". So here it is. I'm adding two-three extra characters for a bundle. Sorry for the wait. :')

Baki Headcanons: Valentine's Day Special

Featuring Jun Guevaru, Musashi Miyamoto, Baki Hanma, Chiharu Shiba and Pickle. And Reader as their Valentine! (Written according to Western customs for the sake of a pampered Reader)

Jun Guevaru

Jun is a hopeless romantic and might actually enjoy Valentine's Day even more than you do. Mind you, the holiday itself is as superficial as it gets, and you've heard his philosophies one too many times; the enticing part is having an excuse to go all out and proclaim his affections for you in the most extravagant way possible. Can you blame him? He loves to show off. And you, sweet (Y/N), happen to be his most prized possession. A man will always be guilty of following his heart.

Although don't expect some cheap American fabrication that glorifies consumerism. His Valentine's Day isn't about that. Love can't be expressed through chocolate or flowers, at least not in his opinion. It's about raw feelings. The word, the tender caress. You can leave it to him to verbalize such depth. After all, he didn't unite an entire country with sheer luck. He is a charismatic leader and, most importantly, a passionate lover. His poetic speeches and sung praise will leave you entranced.

He, too, may be tempted to use the element of surprise. Perhaps through an overly formal letter expressing his utmost disappointment that he won't be able to see you on this particular date. Prison technicalities, you must understand. Nothing he can do about it. Then, when you least expect it, he'll pull you into a most desperate embrace. Oh, he missed you so much. He'll be ready to serenade you, take you places, whisper sweet nothings. You'll feign shock and surprise; you already guessed he wouldn't miss the chance to spoil you, but you do enjoy going along with his games. "Surely you didn't expect me to leave you alone on such a day, my beloved", he'll reassure you fondly. Allow him to prove himself anew.

Musashi Miyamoto

Musashi does not quite understand all of the particularities such a holiday entails. Nor would he normally care for the mundane customs of the modern world. Yet he has noticed the switch of your tone whenever you mention the approaching date. The sheepish glances towards the mysterious heart-themed merch. For someone as observant as him, your excitement is ridiculously clear, no matter how much you shake your head in denial. If his partner wants it, he might as well entertain it. Why not?

Thus, he will begin his little research. What is it that piques your interest to such a degree? He might employ the other fighters to enlighten him on the matter. An amusing sight, if one considers it: the legendary samurai, pacing back and forth as Tokugawa stumbles to follow behind. "W-what about this?" The old man will humbly suggest. "Oooh, fascinating. Yes, yes." He'll respond, holding his chin thoughtfully. "However, it's not (Y/N)'s style. Next."

Keep in mind that Musashi will tailor everything to fit his nature. Flowers? Maybe. All the other modern knick-knacks? Forget it. He'll do you one better. Something you won't expect, because it's a gift meant for his time and age. After a long, frustrating search, he finds what he's looking for. A most unusual sight, but something that represents him indeed. He will proudly extend to you a small, slender kodachi with his family's name inscribed on the scabbard. What greater honor than to share his love and passion? The weapon has been carefully built to his standards, so you may defend yourself if such a need ever arises. For Musashi himself to curate a sword bearing his name, you might as well count it as a proposal.

Pickle

Lately, Baki has been focused on things beyond Pickle's understanding. The only time he'd seen the young boy so excited was before a match. On the other hand, what kind of opponent would Baki be fighting where bizarre, heart-shaped items are required? After a lot of gesturing, rudimentary explanation and show-and-tell demonstration, it finally clicks: it's a special occasion, not preparations for battle.

An occasion that doesn't involve just Baki and Kozue, but, by the looks of it, anyone with a mate. The idea pumps his heart with excitement. Is it something he could celebrate with his own (Y/N)? In that case, he absolutely wants to be part of it. Pickle demands to be shown the ropes, so he, too, can impress his partner. Not that he's not already showing his love (and ownership) with every opportunity.

And so here you are, standing outside your apartment, utterly baffled, shocked, speechless. Pickle has surprised you many times before with his horny mischief and troublemaker shenanigans, but never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined him showing up with balloons, chocolate and a date itinerary on Valentine's Day. You retrieve the little list from his massive hands - he probably can't even read anything on it - and scan over the text. Someone definitely helped him compile everything. Judging from the varied handwriting, it must've been a group effort from Lord knows how many fighters who enjoyed themselves way too much in aiding Pickle's romancing game. Nonetheless you're impressed, just as the prehistoric man had hoped. He sees your blushing face and immediately grins with pride. Who knows, maybe his efforts will be rewarded handsomely (you won't be walking straight until March).

Baki Hanma

Among the other men, Baki may be the only one to show unironic enthusiasm towards the upcoming holiday. He likes cute things (you included) and there's no shame in it. His focus has been switching between training, fighting in the Arena, and more training. He's looking forward to a little break, especially one that allows him to spend time with you.

He's not secretive about the process, either. He'll show up at your place with a stack of flyers and scribbled notes, asking you to trim down activities with him. Worry not, he has compiled an extensive list of available events for couples, as well as places to visit and general ideas. After all, part of the fun is to plan everything with you. Can you tell he's excited? Kneeling at the table and flipping through the options with a wide grin on his face, you can almost discern a wagging tail materializing behind him.

He could be slightly biased towards activities that allow him to impress you. A Valentine's Day fair, for example, is such a cheesy idea, but he can't resist the temptation to show off. "Beat the high score and win the prize" blinking in flashy colors above one of those boxing arcade machines? Oops! He was trying to hold back, but he ended up dislodging the whole thing from the ground. Sorry, (Y/N), he simply forgets how strong he is, sometimes. Something hard to avoid, given you’re his greatest motivation. Aren’t you proud of your boyfriend? Do praise the poor boy, he’s been itching to receive your affection. It’s been an eternity! Or maybe half an hour, but still.

Chiharu Shiba

Chiharu isn't one to care much for holidays and under regular circumstances he would probably forget about it, too, were it not for the aid of capitalism and heavy commercial propaganda. Therefore, it's hard to ignore the rapidly approaching date given the blaring ads and themed products found on every shelf. Oh, well. He loves spoiling you and he certainly won't miss an opportunity to declare his love in the most cheesy, predictable manner.

He might be a tad cheeky about the entire business. "Valentine's Day? Hmmm..." He'll hum, thoughtfully, feigning mild indifference. It's a difficult task: seeing you cast your eyes down, perhaps a little disappointed, makes him want to smash his own head into the first telephone pole. No one should ever dare to upset you in the slightest - him included! - he thinks, enraged. He struggles to fight the urge. It's for a good cause. Just a few days left. Do forgive him, darling (Y/N).

He'll surprise you in the ways he knows best. Maybe some fresh, heart shaped decals decorating the gas tank of his motorcycle. A flashy, pink tokko-fuku (or uniform jacket) with a particular slogan embroidered on its back. Whatever it is, he'll make sure everyone is aware of his cause. While he might not be the best with words, his actions will be loud and clear. He'll hand you a helmet and gesture for you to hop on the back of his bike. He planned a day-long road trip for the two of you. What's nicer than feeling the wind, the freedom, the warmth of your small arms tightly wrapped around him? He doesn't need overly sophisticated restaurants or whatever else comes with the package. Some great sights and you by his side, and he's the happiest man on this planet. To think someone like him would be privileged enough to gaze at a pretty little thing like you.

[megolololo]

why shockwave is the most fatherly decepticon (even more so than soundwave):

(aka i’m delusional and smitten)

every character in every medium revolves around a theme. a theme in a novel or a show or a film tends to be an idea that will be explored in both the subtext and text of that medium.

shockwave’s theme, surprise, surprise, is creation and rebirth (in most tf media). his whole character is concerned with the parenting of either himself (as a way of rehabilitating after empurata) or of others (predacons, his little bots in cyberverse, or even his subordinates like tarn)

now, you might ask, what sets shockwave’s fatherliness apart from soundwave’s? how is he any more fatherly than soundwave?

allow me to demonstrate with the following screenshot from guardians of the galaxy:

yup.

shockwave was everyone’s father, but soundwave was everyone’s daddy (no not like that)

still not convinced? allow me to introduce you or remind you of the concept of nature vs. nurture. ironically enough, for someone who is only a father, shockwave is the more nurturing one. soundwave is considered a father because he is a cassette player and his “children” are cassettes

in idw1 soundwave was actually more so adopted by his cassettes rather than the other way around. shockwave, on the other hand, birthed - even if not literally - and raised all the subjects he needed to raise to prepare for either war or for life

in idw1, shockwave was like a father to tarn. post-empurata, he still chose to call tarn the name that defined him the most: “damus.” not “glitch”, not “tarn”, which are all personas and not real identities (glitch = associated with his outlier power, tarn = leader of djd) but “damus.” shockwave knows the real tarn because he was there to raise him.

(extra note: to really drill in the fact that shockwave was fatherly to tarn, shockwave thinks “damus” is tarn’s real name while megatron, right before killing him, implies that “glitch” is. megatron is a military leader; he will favor the identity that holds the most militant potential. shockwave cared for tarn; he will favor the boy he knew when he was still in the academy)

we can even still see the effects of pre-empurata shockwave on tarn, who takes great pleasure in the arts and everything conceptually and fundamentally beautiful like poetry or literature or music. and guess who wanted to be remembered for “both his brains and his beauty”?

in cyberverse, he was actually kinda like a father to shadowstriker. he took her in after she was severely injured and placed her in his unit as a form as rehab, if you will (she wouldn’t have been able to go to more militant and armed units in such a condition). though he was less there to nurture shadowstriker, as she was already a developed adult, he was there to protect her. iirc, in a scene where they get frozen by this immobilizer, shockwave pushes her behind him.

it’s the same in tfp, where shockwave, near the end of the series, shoves ratchet behind him during the spacebridge battle and fires at other autobots. the enemy is LITERALLY next to him and yet he chooses to protect ratchet from stray bullets. and to address the predacon elephant in the room, he literally raised predacons. he petted them and comforted them and gave them sustenance to live and thrive.

shockwave is cold, rational, and is obsessed with logic, yes, but he assumes this logic from what he has observed and what he has experienced before, whether that before be pre-empurata or before the war.

could he have had a fatherly and caring figure before the war? possibly. could he have picked it up from how animals assume this role automatically, as if it was biologically and universally a logical thing to do? possibly. but have we ever considered that… it’s just part of his personality?

BuT but shoCkwAve dOesnT have EmoTions

if he didn’t have emotions and therefore no personality, he’d never feel compelled to lie or have any will to do anything. he is driven. a computer is not. a computer is told to do something and will output the most logical output based on its coding. he’s self-driven and autonomous with his decisions.

so, to sum it up, shockwave is nurturing, but because he is often overruled by the need to follow a strict diet of reason and self-motivated curiosity for knowledge, this part of him is always overshadowed. he’s not a good man. he will frankly never be. but he can be a good father if he only let himself be. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[agentplutonium]

Been in a weird writing funk for a few months now so I thought I'd try to write something small for y'all here. Of course, it is Milo/Sweetheart. Of course it is a comfort fic. This seems to be the theme when I am not in the best of spirits. Anyway, writing below the cut!!

"Sweets! I'm home!" Milo called as soon as he was in the door. The house was dark, something he noticed when he pulled into their driveway. The text that Milo sent to Sweetheart saying he was on his way home went ignored, which was unusual. The house was quiet too, which was also unusual.

Well, almost quiet, as the meows of Aggro started coming through the house as the cat made his way to Milo. Aggro found him as he was just putting his keys and wallet down, rubbing up against his legs and meowing up at him. He seemed a bit stressed more than usual, which worried him.

"Hi buddy," Milo said, a small smile on his face, bending down to pet him. "Where's Sweetheart?"

The cat blinked up at him for a second before taking off down the hallway. Milo followed without hesitation, worry creasing his brows. He knew that nothing bad had happened, but he still couldn't help but worry. They had bailed on the plans with the pack tonight because something came up at work again. They had been going nonstop for weeks at this point, early mornings leading to late evenings. It wasn't good for them, Milo could say that much. The tension that they carried in their body the last little bit was not fun to watch, or the growing dark circles under their eyes. Milo wished he could stop time every time he heard Sweetheart's alarm go off and they begrudgingly dragged themselves out of bed. Just to give them a few more moments of rest that he knew they deserved.

When Milo got to the bedroom, Aggro was staring at the closed door in front of him. Odd. Normally Sweetheart would leave it open enough for Aggro to come and go freely.

"Is this what had you so worried?" Milo asked him, to which he got a meow in response. Milo knocked gently on the door, ear pressed close to hear if they were in there. He didn't hear anything. A frown edged his lips. "Sweetheart? You in here?"

When he didn't get a response, he opened the door and stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dark fast and spotting a figure curled up in the bed. Aggro bolted under his feet and was on the bed in a split second. The figure on the bed stirred a bit as Aggro sniffed around before settling beside them.

As Milo turned on the bedside lamp, he realized that Sweetheart had fallen asleep still in their work clothes. He sighed, glad that they were okay and unharmed. He brushed some hair out of their face, hand trailing down their cheek afterwards. Sweetheart stirred a bit more, eyes blinking open at the touch.

"Well hello there," Milo said, a small giggle breaking out from under his breath. He still was rubbing gentle circles into their cheek.

"What time..." Sweetheart slurred, reaching for their phone that was haphazardly placed beside them. If Milo had to guess, they were likely on it before falling asleep, and it dropped when they were finally out. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Just after ten," Milo answered them when they frowned at their now dead phone. "Just got home."

"Sorry," Sweetheart muttered, rubbing their eyes.

"Don't apologize," Milo said, fondness dripping from his words. "But, I tell you what. Why don't you finally get out of these clothes and put on some pyjamas? It might be a bit more comfortable."

Sweetheart nodded, sitting up with the guidance of Milo's hands, a yawn spiling from their lips.

"Stay here," Milo whispered to them, crossing the room to the dresser, rooting around for a pair of pyjamas.

"You don't have to--" Sweetheart started.

"I want to, though," Milo cut them off, already walking back. "I'm still wondering how you were able to fall asleep like this," he said jokingly, placing the pyjamas beside them and plucking off their glasses.

"Was tired after work, and it was, like, 7 PM by the time I got home. I had already eaten so I was just gonna lay down for a little bit. Looks like I ended up falling asleep," Sweetheart explained.

"It must have been a long day," Milo commented, reaching for their wrist so that he could take off their watch. He kissed along their knuckles when he was done, and he just caught the small smile that graced their lips at the motion.

"Something like that," Sweetheart sighed.

He turned to place the items on the bedside table as Sweetheart started to change. When that was done, he reached for their phone to plug it in, already setting the alarms that they set every night in the process. It was quiet in the room, but Milo didn't mind that. As long as he could feel Sweetheart's aura pulsing from them in time with their core, that was all he needed. Not to mention Sweetheart was still half asleep, there probably wasn't anything that they wanted to talk about.

"Are you hungry?" Milo asked after he finished his tasks, pressing a kiss into Sweetheart's shoulder. "When was the last time you ate?"

"At six," Sweetheart said. "Supper was bought for us when we had to stay behind. It was very nice actually. Though..."

"You want a small snack don't you?" Milo teased, already moving back toward the kitchen. "The usual?"

"Please," Sweetheart said. There was a pause before Milo heard their feet come padding behind him. "I love you," They added from behind him.

"I love you too," Milo said, hand instinctively reaching behind him. Sweetheart's fingers intertwined with them in a heartbeat, making Milo's chest fill with warmth. "Some would even say I love you more."

"Impossible," Sweetheart said, chuckling.

In the kitchen, Sweetheart didn't break away from him until he handed them their smoothie drink from the fridge. Milo grabbed the last of the strawberries from the fridge, and grabbed a bowl and a knife, before settling beside where they sat on the counter.

"How was the party?" Sweetheart asked. "Did you have fun?"

"Not as much fun as I would've if you were there," Milo said sincerely. He loves his pack, of course he does, but he also loves showing off for Sweetheart who loves his antics. Secretly.

"Oh, stop," Sweetheart said, but even when they took a sip of their drink they weren't able to hide their smile.

"And the pack missed you," Milo added. "Got asked where you were at least every few minutes for the first, like, half hour."

"They missed me that much?"

"You've barely been around for three weeks at this point, Sweets, of course they have," Milo said. "They love you."

Sweetheart didn't answer, but Milo could sense that they were glowing without even looking at them. When he did glance at them, he was caught by their beauty again. Even like this, with their hair a mess, cheeks red with sleep, and the last remaining lines fading from their skin. God, was he ever lucky to have them.

When Sweetheart realized what he was doing, they groaned, pushing his face away from them. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Milo asked, chuckling.

"Looking at me like that!"

"Like you're the only person in the whole world?" Milo asked.

Sweetheart didn't answer, just grumbled something, much to Milo's amusement. "Just focus on the strawberries before you cut your finger off."

"Please," Milo said, "I could do this in my sleep."

"I'm not rushing you to the hospitable if you hurt yourself," Sweetheart said.

"Sure," Milo said. "The love of my life, my mate, wouldn't bat an eye if I accidentally cut myself."

"I wouldn't," Sweetheart said.

"Which is totally reasonable," Milo said, "especially after I've been terrorizing you with my lov--ow!"

Milo dropped the knife, clutching his right thumb with his other hand. Sweetheart immediately reacted, placing their drink down and grabbing for his hand.

"What did I tell you! Here, let me see," They chided, brows creasing together as they pried his fingers away from his thumb to see--nothing. Sweetheart stared at his thumb for a few moments, blinking, before they groaned again. "You jerk!" They said, lightly pushing him away. "I was worried about you!"

"So you do worry when I hurt myself," Milo teased.

"You're evil," Sweetheart grumbled, crossing their arms.

Milo hummed, scootching over so that he could settle between their legs, a hand automatically settling on their thigh. "You love me," he said, his other hand coming up to cup the back of their neck and pull them in for a kiss. For someone who thought he was evil, they sure did respond to his touch, melting into him the second their lips touched.

"Evil," they muttered against his lips, though with considerably no force behind it.

"Will this make up for it?" Milo asked after he pulled away, reaching for the bowl beside them and presenting it.

"Maybe," Sweetheart said. They accepted the offered bowl.

"Dork," Milo muttered fondly, stealing a strawberry half. Sweetheart didn't respond, just wrinkling their nose at him. "Do you have the weekend off?"

Sweetheart nodded. "Finally."

"Perfect," Milo said, smiling.

"I swear to God if you say 'like you'--"

"Like you," Milo said, chuckling when Sweetheart lightly smacked his chest. "Eat, so we can go to bed."

--END--

[sageourplanetmeow]

Indie Animations I Recommend

Haven’t posted in a while since, as I have said, my Apple Pencil broke and I haven’t been able to work on commissions or that one hazbin hotel animation… which I was actually getting through for once. Also I have fallen into a Varian And The Seven Kingdoms obsession.

Anyhow I shall now take the chance to share a couple indie animations I’ve watched/been watching recently possibly with a brief note about what kind of audience would enjoy it (might not be accurate I dunno)

First and foremost The Epilogue Of Endings which released approximately 12 hours ago as of when I’m writing this. And just before I summarise anything I just want to praise this pilot for HOW AMAZING IT IS DESPITE ITS SMALL BUDGET! The animation is fantastic and I swear something about it makes me so happy. The art style is also amazing (in my opinion) and suits the character designs perfectly. I love the character designs, just saying, and the voice acting is superb. I think my favourite designs from it are Blu (because I mean the mask and metal arms are pretty damn cool) and the ————. I won’t say who they are because the reveal is too good to miss, but you might be able to guess who I’m talking about if you’ve watched it.

Now to say what happens. This takes place after the sun ya know, goes. I think I’m probably the most interested by what exactly is going on with Mole but I think my favourite character thus far is Blu. I suggest you go watch it, it’s very cool. I think if you like Indie animation in general then this is a good pic due to its indie feel (positive). Also would suggest to people who enjoy slightly creepy media (it’s not that creepy in my opinion but it does feature the downfall of humanity and what happens after the sun dies so it’s slightly unsettling, it masters that feeling).

And here’s their Kickstarter

We also have Dreamworld which also has a season 2, I’m just linking the first one though so just so you know you can find the second season on the channel. As said by the creator, it borrows certain tropes/aspects from analogue horror and has animatronics. As it says up there it is a sci-fi horror series that is intended to be accessible to younger fans of the genre. Again, I love the story and the character designs. So far, my favourite character and character design belongs to THE Star Light. I’m starting to see a theme with me liking sun/moon/star themed animatronics. I mean this guy has a BOW TIE and a charming smile. If I wasn’t already dressing up as Varian for Halloween then I think I would’ve looked into trying to dress as Star Light.

The pilot hasn’t released but the animation from this teaser is SO GOOD! I’m excited to see the pilot. There’s also been music/songs released by them, I can’t remember if I’ve gotten around to listening to any but I fully intend on doing so.

I’m sorry but how is the animation this good with only one person animating it (I might’ve gotten that wrong). I find the character designs really cool and the art style is fun. They’re in space. The voice acting is good. Also just gonna say, they have merch.

This is Dungeon Flippers, a fantasy real-estate cartoon following Maulie, a manticore. (I copied and shortened down the description of the YouTube channel)

The animation is great and the voice acting is really good. The story is interesting and The Ace Of Wands Theme is a joy to listen to every time.

I don’t know how to describe the plot but lemme just… the animation deserves praise, it suits the vibe of the pilot and the character designs are amazing. Voice acting is also fun and I’d recommend this even if it’s just sea side/coast vibes you’re looking for.

This one is a YouTube channel that posts OC animatics and has posted Sundrop and Moondrop animations, just saying I think they drew the Sun and Moon Q&A comics soooo that was my introduction to their work.

Just watch this and you will see some PEAK animation.

Again, the animation is awesome.

https://youtu.be/XPE3nTxV2_k?si=Rgd5yBL9_B-Fl5i7

And that’s where the video limit comes, alas, but check it out. It’s by Meppity and has some really good paper looking animation.

And this is where we have the indie animated stuff (I consider it that at least) centred around pre-existing shows.

I myself am looking forward to making my own indie animated stuff or comics (I haven’t really decided, I’m just working on different characters whilst also writing fanfics and drawing fan comics and other art stuff on top of art homework. YAY

Here is one… dated… animation I did a year ago which took me a while.

https://youtu.be/jmteRdRgHWI?si=o-p-l9gheLSkw7Xr

It’s for an OC, but with their old design. The new design has a satchel, otherwise nothing changed to be honest. I also have done another animation which was far more rough but it was me animating whilst seeing who would win the election so it’s political and not about any of my ocs or any actual characters. As I said, I already have another animation in the works for Alastor so I have to wait till my Apple Pencil gets fixed or replaced to continue working on it.

[smileysuh]

dumb frat boy - TEASER

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3

“Burner phone, baby.”

“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. 

“Why so serious, Angel?”

“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”

“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”

“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”

“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.” 

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff. 

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”

“Never even heard of it.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.” 

“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.

“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”

“What’s The Black Phone movie?”

“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?” 

You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”

“I one hundred percent do!” 

“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”

“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?” 

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.4k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

The Secrets One Keeps

Alrighty, This is a request I was sent by an anon! Asking for a reader who's Hosea's daughter but dating Arthur, they have to keep their relationship a secret, especially from Hosea. Afraid for the poor man's heart.

Keep in mind this is my first work since coming back from hiatus, I'm a little rusty, so it might not be as great as it could be, be patient with me as I try to get back into the Rythm of things please! There's some NSFW themes but it's not full on smut, not for my first one back, but never fear, that will make a return.

Warnings: Fluff, language, maybe some NSFW themes Reader is a bit younger than Arthur is. (Don't worry Im not a freak, reader is gonna be over 18 by like at LEAST six years) Female reader, if there's slip ups, please let me know so I can correct them!

Let's jump into it!

You swear to God you just saw him, You just did, you watched him come out this way and you watched him give you that...look.

He wanted you to follow him, you could SEE it.

So where the hell was he?

"Arthur?"

You call out, but you keep your voice low. It's late, and camp isn't too far, you don't want anyone to hear you...you know what the two of you agreed on, and it was better if no one knew about the two of you. Especially your father. Hosea would NOT take kindly to Arthur dating his 24 year old daughter.

Not only that but to Hosea...Arthur was like a son...he saw the two of you as though you were siblings.

You definitely did NOT feel that way.

"Arthur, I swear to whatever God you pray to you better fuckin' come out-"

"Aw now, c'mon Darlin' that ain't very nice of you to speak like that."

You practically hear the smirk on his face as you feel an arm wrap around your waist and a chin on your shoulder.

"'Sides, you know I ain't a religious man."

"Arthur Morgan, how many times do I have to tell you not to scare me-"

"Awww you love it."

"No I don't!"

"Bullshit you don't last time I did you laughed and tried to take my pants off-"

"Shut up."

You twist to face him and sure enough he's wearing that smirk of his.

"You like it."

"Alright! Fine."

He laughs and leans in, placing his lips gently against yours, softly, sweetly, so different from what he showed everyone else.

"Been wantin' to do that all damn day. I hate this sneakin' around crap," He scoffs. "Fuckin' stupid, we're both adults."

"Aw come on, it's not so bad Arthur...The sneaking around is kinda fun..."

"I guess so...I don't know, I'm gettin' real tired of not bein' able to kiss you goodbye, or havin' to hide behind the wagons just to tell ya I love ya. I shouldn't have to hide it like I'm embarrassed."

"I know..."

You give a sigh and lean into him.

"It sucks, I know it does, I know. The sneaking is fun, but...I know what you mean. We should be sharing a tent by now, instead of trying not to be caught."

He gives you a grunt in response, placing his chin on your head.

"How can we be sure that Hosea wouldn't approve of us?"

His voice comes out a little strained. Acting as though he didn't already know the answer.

"C'mon Arthur..."

You sigh again and move so you can look him in the eye properly.

"You know he won't. Hell, he sees us slightly too close to one another and he loses his mind, he stares you down. You know it, you see it."

"I know..."

He grumbles.

"I need to spend more time with you though Darlin' I do. I NEED to."

He pauses for a moment

"We have to at least take a trip together soon, I mean...either that or we just gotta stop carin' about what Hosea thinks. Don't get me wrong I love 'em, I do, but I love you more."

"I love you too..."

The two of you are silent for a few moments, comfortably leaning against one another in the darkened part of the woods, it's late, both of you know that, and both of you know that you should probably be getting to sleep.

But it's been a long day. A long week even, the two of you haven't had nearly as much time together as you would have liked.

"You think maybe I could sneak you into my tent?"

Arthur's voice breaks the silence, quietly, barely there.

"Jus' tonight, please?"

"Arthur, you know dad'll see us."

"No, look I can leave tomorrow before you, leave the flaps down, no one'll go in there, then you just gotta go out towards the side instead of the front, go around the back of the wagon."

You chuckle a little at his enthusiasm, he never fails to make you smile. He's so obviously, deeply in love with you that it's hard to say no to him.

"Alright....alright, okay, we'll try. He should be asleep by now, it's just the others we have to worry about."

"They ain't gonna say anythin'."

You look at him and give a confused look, though your smile never wavers.

"How do you know?"

"They won't cause if they do, it's me they have to deal with, not Hosea."

His voice lowers slightly, and you watch as that look comes over his eyes. You've seen it before, you know what it means.

"Jesus Arthur, would you quit that, you..."

Your face heats quickly and you look away from him. Of course he was attempting to be threatening, but to you, it just seemed...attractive more so than threatening.

He knew that.

"Why Sweetheart...somethin' gettin' into that head of yours?"

"Shut it, you know what it does-"

"Absolutely I do, why you think I'm doin' it?"

He laughs but leans in and kisses your temple before starts to lead you back towards camp.

"C'mon, let's sneak you in."

He ushers you forwards, and the two of you stop at the edge of camp to see who's up, but luckily it seems that mostly everyone is sleeping.

He then leads you around the edge of Clemmons Point until the both of you get to his tent, the moment the both of you are in he closes the flaps up and gives the two of you some privacy. It seemed like the two of you had gotten away with it. Or at least no one had called out to you.

In the dim light of his lantern the two of you share a smile and there's a look in his eyes that you know means you'll be playing the quiet game tonight.

.....

Morning seems to come faster than you would have liked it to, the time spent with Arthur never seemed to be enough, so when you wake up in the early morning you decide to just burrow further into his bare chest.

It earns a quiet grumble from him as he pulls you closer to him, he's awake, you can tell he is, but he stays silent. The only way you know he's awake is the fact that his hand can't stay away from your ass.

"Didn't you have enough last night?"

You mumble but there's a smile on your face as you adjust, throwing a leg over his hip.

"Ain't never 'nough with you."

It comes out as a grumble and he moves to your thigh, gripping it tightly as he pulls it even further over his hip.

He buries his head in your neck and kisses there. As much as he seems to try and rile you up the kiss is soft, more sweet than anything.

"C'mon Darlin'...this could be every mornin'..."

He yawns and shifts himself, trying to wake up a little more.

"We gotta tell him at some point anyhow..."

"I know..."

You huff and move your hand to his hair, gently massaging his scalp, it's nearly instinct.

"I just...I don't know what he'll think, what he'll do...."

"C'mon, it's me. I know it probably ain't what he wants but...He loves me, he knows me...you could be screwin' Bill behind doors."

He stops a moment.

"Shut up Arthur, it is not-"

"I dunno about that, seems kinda dumb to me."

You roll your eyes and laugh before you kiss the top of his head. You're about to open your mouth to try and come up with an idea on what to tell your father when the tent flap opens.

You and Arthur move simultaneously to look and see who's standing there only to have your eyes go wide.

You're leaning backwards, your head turned over your shoulder to look, and you suddenly wish that you could disappear.

Hosea stands at the opening of the tent, his mouth open as though he'd gone to say something and then he'd noticed.

"Hosea, I can explain-"

Arthur starts, he moves, and gently puts his hand on your back to push you towards the wall so that you can stay covered.

"I don't want to hear it!"

Hosea puts his hand out, as though he's trying to block it all from view.

"Get dressed! Both of you!"

He leaves, dropping the tent flap and leaving the two of you alone.

"Shit..."

"Shit's fuckin' right..."

Arthur sighs and plops back down on the cot, covering his eyes with one hand.

The two of you take a moment, sitting in silence. wondering what the hell you'd say.

This silence continues as the two of you go to dress, once the two of you are done Arthur reaches for your hand, taking it quietly as both of you leave the tent.

Hosea stands right outside, and the both of you give one another a look of shame.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing!?"

Hosea nearly yells, it's such a difference from his usual calm demeanor, you've rarely seen your father so mad.

"Hosea, c'mon..."

Arthur mumbles.

"Can't we talk about this outside of camp?"

Hosea takes a deep breath and then nods, and the three of you begin your trudge towards the edge of camp. It's there that Hosea stands with his arms crossed waiting.

"Explain yourselves."

"Hosea-"

"No, Y/N, you first."

"Dad..."

You swallow and look to Arthur and then to Hosea.

"I love him. I mean that. I love him, and I have for a very long time, and he loves me. I know he does. It's not just...it's not just a one time thing, it means something-"

"How long."

"About a year."

A silence falls over the three of you. Hosea's face seems unreadable.

His eyes close and he gives a deep breath, exhaling heavily.

"Arthur."

Hosea opens his eyes and looks towards him, his jaw clenched.

"If anything happens to them, emotional or otherwise, I'm going to hold you accountable, and you WILL NOT like me. You understand me?"

"I do Hosea, you know me. I'm not gonna let anything happen to them. Never."

Hosea doesn't seem exactly...pleased with this answer, but he seems to accpet it.

"Don't EVER let me catch you two like that again."

"You didn't knock-"

"Shut up Arthur."

Arthur clamps his jaw shut and swallows, but there's a look a defiance in his eyes.

Hosea looks at the two of you for a moment longer and then walks away without another word.

The two of you, now alone, look at each other and give a relieved sigh.

"I guess...I mean he knows now at least."

"I have a feeling he's gonna make your life a living hell for a while Arthur-"

"Yeah..."

He breathes.

"More than likely."

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I guess that depends on what you mean by weird or difficult to understand.

I think the dialogue is sometimes pretty clunky, I think it's aged really badly in some places, I think sometimes Lucas didn't explain things as well as maybe needed to for a primarily Western audience. But I don't think it's IMPOSSIBLE to understand, either. It's made for children to be able to understand the story and I think he managed that perfectly fine. I think by and large that the intended audience of the Prequel films understood what the story was. They know that the Jedi are the good guys and Anakin's the bad guy even if he seems nicer at the start. It's mostly adults who pick apart the Prequels and find it too clunky to be understood.

I think that Lucas's writing strength is not necessarily in his dialogue, but I also think he WAS intentional with what dialogue he chose and that there's reasons for why characters speak the way they do or say the things they do. Anakin is bad at flirting and awkward because he wanted Anakin to come off as a whiny teenager. This was entirely intentional. You can discuss whether making Anakin a whiny teenager was a good choice or not, but I think he succeeds at making Anakin feel like a whiny, bratty nineteen year old with like little to no ability to be suave.

I think it's possible that popular fandom interpretations of the Prequels have made it difficult to view them the way Lucas intended. It became SO widely accepted that the Prequels were about the Jedi being corrupt that it was nearly impossible to understand them any other way, and it DID take reading several essays on the dialogue and the different interviews Lucas had where he explained some of it for me to change my perspective on it. But that might be less of a problem of the film and its dialogue being weird on its own and more of a problem of fandom interpretations becoming so popular that they manage to overwrite my own understanding of the films. Also, if you're a more casual fan of the films, like I was before a couple of years ago, you're not necessarily looking up interviews where Lucas discusses these things or watching the films with his audio commentary on to hear him talk about certain scenes, so if a certain fandom interpretation is accepted as the truth and starts to spread, you might end up more familiar with THAT than you are with the things Lucas has said that counteract it.

One of the things I needed essays to help me with was attachment, because I DO think that Lucas failed to make sure that his definition of it was made clear to an audience that would've had a very different association with the word already. That being said, I think he DOES make the THEME clear within the story, about selfishness and greed and an inability to let go and how burning the world for the people you love is bad and how you can always choose to be bad but you can always choose to be good again too. I don't think the themes that Lucas was going for in his films are honestly that weird or different from what we OFTEN see in films in Hollywood. The concept of "letting go" is literally everywhere. It crops up in SO MANY films, especially in films aimed at the same demographic, but even films aimed at a more adult audience, too. It's an incredibly basic and popular theme and it's not hard to pick up in his films.

But I think people heard the word "attachment" and it flipped them out because the word attachment is basically equivalent to "relationship" or "love" most of the time in more Western media (see literally any Jane Austen film, they use the word a lot in there) and so they came to the conclusion that the Jedi forbid relationships and love entirely and then it led them to the conclusion that the Jedi were corrupt and THAT'S why Anakin fell to the dark side. That one word being tossed into the dialogue without adequate clarification on how Lucas was defining it had a cascade effect on people's ability to understand the story within the Prequels.

For example, there IS a parallel between Anakin's fall and the corruption of an institution in the Prequels, so people are picking up on something that DOES EXIST in the films, they're just applying it to the wrong institution. It's not the Jedi Order that parallels Anakin's corruption, it's the SENATE. But because people applied the corruption thing to the Jedi, they ended up dismissing the Senate as just already evil because it became the Empire later and it just becomes yet another way to blame the Jedi for things because they were working for an inherently evil organization and either didn't care or were too blind to realize it. So you can see how a misunderstanding of one word in one line of dialogue in one film ended up changing the entire understanding of the films.

But to a kid watching the movies, the word attachment might not yet be something they're familiar enough with to misunderstand. They might just gloss over that line of dialogue the way they would anything that involved a word they didn't totally understand and just rely on the visuals and music and other dialogue to lead them to the correct conclusions. Kids watching these films are capable of picking up that OF COURSE the Jedi are the good guys the whole time, of course they're not corrupt monsters, everything in the films made it very clear that they're the good guys. And it's a lot easier to pick up on the real themes of the story and the way the films are telling it when you start from that conclusion.

So, for me, when I was first reading those essays about what attachment meant in Star Wars and what Lucas had said about it, it didn't feel like I was getting a whole new understanding of the story so much as things were FINALLY slotting into place with what I'd understood as a child. My feelings about the Prequels and the story I'd gotten from them had never really aligned with what everyone else seemed convinced was true, but I'd never met anyone else who saw them positively before, so I'd just assumed if I liked them then it was because I'd watched them incorrectly, that I only liked them because I'd been shown the Prequels first when I was really young whereas everyone else had watched the Original Trilogy first. For me, reading these different interpretations of the Prequels that showcased a very different story than the one most people knew about wasn't NEW (not precisely anyway), it was just VALIDATING. There was a REASON I'd liked them before, a reason I still DID like them as an adult, even though everyone around me seemed to hate them and believe unequivocally that they were terrible films.

So is some of the dialogue weird? Sure, it's clunky sometimes, and there are things that aren't made clear enough, but I don't think Lucas was RELYING on his dialogue to get his story across. He's said before that in some ways he views Star Wars as silent films and the dialogue that's in it is more like music. The story isn't told through the dialogue for him, it's told through the visuals and the dialogue itself is secondary. And this works out fine when you're a kid who's used to dialogue sometimes not being understandable anyway and so you're more reliant on visuals and music to help you figure out the story, but the adults who were watching it were more used to relying on the dialogue to tell them everything they needed to know and so these films fell short. So while I do think the dialogue was flawed, I don't think it really hinders understanding of the story Lucas was trying to tell, but popular fandom interpretations of the films becoming the ONLY interpretation of the films DOES hinder understanding of that story.

[bumblebugwrites]

chapter 7: sign of the times

Pairing: Victor!Treech x fem!Reader

Summary: A reunion. An explanation. But can you salvage what already seems like a lost cause?

Warnings: Cursing, Suggestive Themes, Alcohol Consumption (Both Characters 21+).

Word Count: 6.7k

Taglist: @nekee-lilac02, @mr-panda357, @yourfavmiki, @blackoutdays13, @dialuvsbangtan, @emgunther, @qirsupply

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You do not speak at first, feet rooted to the ground as you take him in, and really, he is not so odd, but there is something different about him. Something you can’t recall having seen in years. His hair is the same, just as long as the last time you saw him, though perhaps a bit more unkept as a result of the long train ride over. Nothing about him seemed out of place at first glance. Still, you are sure to check again. You always check again with Treech. But it’s not there, the change you are looking for. No. It is in his eyes. Careful. Steady. Unguarded. Pooling with– 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” But you shake the thought because this is Treech, and the last time he looked at you like that, he had been sure to let you know it was a lie. He merely balks at your tone, flat and unimpressed, leaving you to huff and roll your eyes before pushing past him to guide Bluebell toward her stall without a second glance.

“You weren’t at the train station this morning.” You nearly freeze at the weight of his words. He had been looking for you, or at least intrigued enough to note your missing presence.  But how had he known to find you here? The mayor certainly had no idea as to your whereabouts. Sure, Calpurnia may have made a good guess, but she had long since stopped trying to stick her nose in your business. And more importantly, how had he managed to slip away from the festivities unnoticed? Questions clutter your mind faster than you are able to supply them with makeshift answers. Still, you don’t ask.

“I had work.” And you don’t have to see him to know he is narrowing his eyes just behind you, face probably painted with the same scrutiny he typically reserved for lectures from Hilarius.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to work anymore. Isn’t that the whole point of victory? A quiet life of rest?” You can’t resist huffing out a laugh at the familiar snark that edges its way into his tone, and for a moment, you are both eighteen again, scared shitless and shoulder to shoulder on a train headed for the Capitol. It doesn’t last.

“Well, I don’t see them here putting me under arrest, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep at it.” As you reach Bluebell’s stall, you feel Treech hesitate at the door, and a look over your shoulder confirms he has trained a weary gaze on the horse. You muffle a laugh, and his face hardens into a glare.

“The mayor said you weren’t feeling well.” Ah. So that’s why he is here. To catch you in a lie. You shrug in response and listen to the sound of his nervous shuffling before Treech forces himself to speak once more.

“Crowd was pretty focused on Maple, so I– Well, I snuck off. Thought I’d check in at your house, but you weren’t there. Obviously. Your sister said I might find you here.” You feel your shoulders tense. 

“You talked to Fawn?” Your voice is cold and sharp as the words pass your lips, and Treech is quick to raise both hands in defense. 

“I’m not here to– I want to talk to you,” he begins, but you can feel yourself already starting to lose patience.

“Why? You haven’t cared about me in years.” He looks hurt when you turn to face him, shoulders sagged and his eyes heavy with apparent exhaustion.

“I–” His eyes flit to the upper corner of the stall. To the camera used by the Peacekeepers on duty to ensure you are on task at all times. “Is there–” And no, Treech isn’t your favorite these days, but you understand immediately, halting yourself in the process of removing Bluebell’s saddle. You are supposed to be back at the bunkhouse for lunch in ten minutes. Lunch, midday meeting, and then the rest of the day off, your boss, a short, stalky man who had grown up with your father, had insisted, not wanting you to get yourself into any more trouble.

“I have to make a call.” You pronounce each word slowly, the implication heavy in your voice, before dropping both hands from Bluebell’s side to make for the phone beside the double doors to enter the barn.

Treech has never seen a horse before. Well, maybe that’s not completely true. He could remember seeing a couple of your sketches from back home and the old photographs from his textbooks in school, but to be face to face with the creature felt completely different. It is large, barely moving aside from the occasional shifting of its legs or a slow blink, though the remainder of the barn is filled with their subtle sounds, huffing and knocking at the ground with their great hooves. He swallows the air in his lungs, pushing it further down and taking a step back so that he comes in contact with the wall. The horse swats at several flies with its tail in a single practiced motion. Treech thinks about stepping out of the stall completely, and it is only as he turns his head to consider an escape route, back still flat against the wood-paneled wall, that he notes that you have returned. 

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed tight across your chest and eyes gently considering his situation. Though, he can sense something else as well, a brewing aura of mischief as you stifle another laugh at his expense.

“It’s not funny. That thing is really big,” he mumbles, and you allow a full-on chuckle to escape. The sound of it fills his chest with warmth.

“It’s a little funny, given that you're about to get on one of these things.” The warmth is gone in an instant.

“What?” 

“Only way to get where we’re going. Unless you’d rather spend the rest of your day walking.” Treech swallows hard, face drained of the vast majority of its color. He looks as though he might be sick.

“Don’t worry, you can take Baxter. He only bites a little.”

At nineteen, Baxter is one of the oldest horses in the barn, docile and gentle with age. Still, Treech doesn’t know that, and you make no effort to tell him as you journey out with a tight grip on his lead and your own. The man beside you is stiff as a board, though you’re surprised to see his grip on the bridle has loosened significantly over the last thirty minutes.

There are three blind spots in the entirety of the ranch when it comes to cameras. The first is where most ranchers take their smoke breaks, though it is commonly occupied and never lacking in company. The second is the small stretch of land between the showers and the bunkhouse and the third is at the very periphery of the ranch, where someone a long time ago cut the wires on a camera no one ever bothered to fix. That is where you are headed now, and you feel your shoulders sink in relief as it comes into view just over the next hill. Relief, which you assure yourself, has nothing to do with the tense form beside yours and his comfort whatsoever. 

Getting Treech onto the horse had been seemingly more trouble than it was worth as you coaxed him into mounting following several demonstrations, only to be forced to start from ground zero after Baxter chose to adjust his stance as Treech lifted a foot to the stirrup.

“This thing is trying to kill me.”

“I promise you he is not.”

Still, concern over his perceived well-being had long since stopped being a pressing issue for you, though even you can admit seeing Treech in any real danger always sent a sharp twinge through your chest.

Upon arrival, you give the reins a quick tug, signaling it is time to stop before swinging yourself off of Bluebell and tying both leads to a nearby post. Treech is admittedly steadier on the dismount, probably out of sheer desperation to come in contact with the ground once more. However, he stumbles a bit as his feet hit the dirt, and you note the immediate distance he creates between himself and Baxter. 

“It’s safe here since you’re so hellbent on talking.” You toss the words over your shoulder, focus locked in on checking Bluebell’s saddle for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing catches your eye, but then, you knew it wouldn’t, using the task at hand as a welcome distraction from the itch of the gaze on the back of your neck.

“I didn’t– I–” Treech’s words seem to trip over themselves on their journey out of his mouth, and you find yourself surprised at the uncharacteristic nervousness in his tone. A glance in the man’s direction reveals his body to be giving the same impression, eyes darting in an awkward dance around each feature on your face, hands clasped tightly together.

“If you have something to say, you might as well just say it. I’m not gonna be all ears for forever–” His eyes are steady now, fixed on you with the only emotion you have known them to hold for what has become the majority of your time together. Frustration. Anger.

“Would you stop that?”

“Stop what? I’m just saying you should probably pick up the pace. I mean, how long do you really think the crowd is gonna go without noticing that the Capitol’s favorite pretty boy is missing in action–” You are agitating him on purpose; there’s no question about it. But what’s the fun in letting him have it easy now? After what he did? After the way he left you feeling all that time ago?

“Stop! Patronizing me! Just let me explain. God, when did you become so mean?” Your body goes rigid, and regret, immediate and palpable, paints itself across his face. 

“Mean? You wanna talk to me about mean?”

“No! I– You know I didn’t– Fuck me, I’m messing this all up.” And really, you’re ready to pounce. To take four years of heartache and anguish and make every second of pain his problem. But then it happens, so subtle you almost don’t catch it, at the tail end of his last sentence. A break. A warble. Call it what you want; you can hear the tears, and any snide remarks die on your tongue at the sound. 

“Can I start again? Please?” He doesn’t deserve it. Won’t even meet your eye to ask, but something about how he looks, the way he had at eighteen, that first night at the bar, so hopeless and lost, makes you give in.

“Whatever, sure.”

“I– Do you remember that night I came to your room after that first party at the President’s mansion?” His hands on your waist. Your fingers deep in his curls. His lips pressed against yours. Close. So close.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Do you remember the morning after?” Treech reappearing in your room just as sleep began to slug off, presumably attending to business of some sort. Presumably deciding he didn’t want you anymore. 

“Look, if you just came here to relive the glory of telling me–”

“Do you remember that phone call I got?” Phone call? For Treech? In your room? Phone call. It must have been close to seven in the morning. He’d bent down and kissed you goodbye on his way out the door. How could you let that slip?

“Well, it was from Snow.” Your heart just about stops in your chest, mind moving a million miles an hour and though you probably don’t need Treech to explain the rest, he goes on.

“He saw us together. I guess there were cameras in the Victor’s Suite. He called me that morning. In your room. That’s when I should have known something was wrong, but I still managed to get all the way to the end of the hall before having the brain to realize something was up. Anyways, he– He told me I had to end things. Two victors from different Districts? People might get the wrong idea. Said he wouldn’t go after us. That he’d start with our families. With your family. And I knew I couldn’t do that to you.”

“And look, you’ve always been braver than me. I was worried if I just told you, you’d get it in your head that we could fight this. You know? Find some way to defy fate. So I told you I didn’t want you. And I spent these last four years pushing you away, praying it would be enough to keep you safe.” He stops and though he hasn’t even been talking for that long, he looks as though he’s out of breath. You feel lightheaded.

“Wh– Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because about two years into my genius plan I realized that I was probably doing a pretty shitty job of looking out for you if I didn’t even know what was going on with you anymore. You can’t protect someone you don’t know and I made you into a stranger,” he finishes, eyes scanning the grass as though each individual blade were the most interesting thing in the world. That’s probably why he doesn’t see it coming. Your first shove that is. Still, by the second one, he seems almost resigned to the onslaught.

“You. Are. Such. An. Idiot. I can’t believe you. I hate you so much.” But there is no real malice to the words and he catches your fist, tight in his hand as you bring it down to punctuate the end of your final sentence.

“I– uhm–” And he goes to speak, but perhaps realizes just how close the two of you are, faces only inches apart. You breathe him in, the same scent of cedar still populating the space around him. You want to sink down inside it. Want to kiss his face. His lips. Dig your hands into the curls you have not touched in four years. Your mind flashes with memories of that last night. Of the morning after. Of the things he’d said. You pull away.

“Well, don’t expect me to just come crawling back to you. I do have dignity, you know.” 

“Right, of course.” Treech brings a hand up to scratch at the back his neck. The same nervous tick from all those years ago.

“But– Maybe we could try being friends again.” And there he is, all open and smiling and bright. And your heart warms at the sight.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Upon your return to the barn, with you having guided both horses back at a far more leisurely pace, you promise to meet again before tonight’s event at City Hall at your house in the Victor’s Village. The trek home isn’t so bad with his company, and you spend the time filling in the gaps four years had left you with before bidding him farwell and parting ways.

You’ve only just finished buttoning your jeans when Lennox appears at the door to your room. Since your move to the Victor’s Village, you often found yourself longing for the closeness you once shared with your siblings. Still, they found ways to get under your skin even in a house as impossibly big as the one the Capitol had so generously gifted you. 

Your father's vest still fits like a glove with the alterations your mother had made several years ago, its denim softened by age and still smelling faintly of tobacco, the one habit your father never could quite shake. 

With one final glance at the garment and an additional once-over of your outfit, you had turned to face the youngest member of your family, only to discover something missing from his newly pressed dress shirt. 

“What the–”

That was fifteen minutes ago, though no amount of time passed seemed to be bringing you any closer to an answer.

“Lennox, I don’t understand. Where did the first three buttons on your shirt go?” 

“I dunno.” Still, the boy refuses to meet your gaze, and something about him reeks of a lie. You crouch to deliver your next sentence, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Well, you better start thinking because it’s not like buttons just get up and walk away.” He squirms beneath the weight of your calculating stare, which holds him unrelentingly, hands coming up to keep the boy in place and negate all chances of escape.

“Urgh, fine. I traded them.” And it’s almost bizarre, but then, this is Lennox, and he is a child. And to children, things like buttons seem so simple and uncomplicated. So unnecessary and silly. You almost want to laugh.

“What do you mean you traded them?”

“I gave them to a boy at school.” You force yourself to hide the smile settling into your lips, dipping your head, and making an exasperated sort of sound.

“No, that’s not– I understand where you traded them; you don’t go anywhere else. What I’m trying to figure out is why. We have everything you could possibly need here.” 

“Not honeydrops.” The smile is gone now, banished in a moment. And Lennox knows. At least you’ve told him the way your family must live now, what must remain off limits. But then, it really is nothing more than candy. 

“Oh my god. Tell me you did not.”

“I don’t understand why all the other kids get to have it, and I don’t.” And you feel it again, that creeping sensation of guilt that arises every time you must pull something from your siblings’ grasps.

“Because candy is a contraband item, and we are basically living in the Capitol’s spotlight. Lennox, we’ve talked about this.” He frowns, and the action darkens the entirety of his face. His lip jerks out, beginning to shake.

“Please don’t tell Mom.”

“I’m not gonna tell Mom, just–” There is a knock at the front door. You can hear it from upstairs. Fixing the boy before you with a look of warning, you deliver a final address. “It better be gone when I look in your room tonight.”

He is off in an instant, presumably intent on packing every remaining honeydrop into his mouth at once, and you bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it, but it is the kind of laugh that rattles cruel and unforgiving in your chest, bitter in its birth and you force yourself to shake it before making your way downstairs. Fawn beats you to the door.

“What are you wearing?” You open your mouth to scold her for the remark, blatant in its disrespect, but another voice cuts off your own, ringing out through the foyer.

“My dress clothes? Why do we look bad?” Treech. By the time you hit the bottom of the stairs, it is clear what Fawn is grimacing at. The outfit is by no means abysmal, similar to those you’ve seen Treech don while arriving at the Capitol following the Reapings, but it is certainly not appropriate for where you are going. Behind him, Maple stands rather awkwardly, a similar look of worry spreading across her face.

“No. She looks fine. She looks like some Capitol stylist at least had the sense to look at a single picture of District 10 before arrival. You look like you can not wear that to City Hall. You– You– You have to come inside before anyone sees you in this outfit.” At this point, you make your presence known, pulling Fawn from her position blocking the doorway before ushering the pair of victors in with a smile. 

“Sorry about her; clearly, we haven’t hosted guests in a while,” you grit out, flashing a glare in Fawn's direction. Maple laughs, covering the sound with a cough.

“Is my outfit actually bad?” Treech fusses at his selection of clothing, pulling uncomfortably at the hem of his jacket.

“Well, no. It’s just not–” You begin, though Fawn does not let you finish.

“Yes.” You are quick to deliver an elbow to her gut, though she only responds with a shove in return and an offer to Maple to join her and your mother in the kitchen.

“Really, don’t worry about it. How about I try to find you something here?” You offer, and Treech shoots you a grateful smile before trailing after his charge.

Upstairs, you take to alternatively rooting around your closet and considering the same three work shirts laid out on your bed, none of them formal enough. You are just about to give up entirely when a knock sounds at your door.

“Fawn said you needed something suitable for City Hall tonight?” Your mother’s head appears, followed by the remainder of her, a single, pressed shirt hooked over her arm and an accompanying vest tucked beneath it. Your father’s clothes.

“Oh, Mom, I couldn’t possibly–” She only shakes her head. Laying the garments out atop your mattress. In a subtle act of care, she fidgets with the cuff of his old shirt’s sleeve. 

“Don’t be silly; it’s just for tonight. Besides, all these clothes do is sit and gather dust anyway. He would’ve wanted them to go to good use.” You don’t say anything, only moving forward to pull her into your arms before pressing your words into her shoulder, unsure if she will even be able to catch them.

“I miss him.”

“I do, too.”

She is kind enough to alert Treech to the need for his presence in your room, and with her disappearance comes his arrival, stepping timidly across the threshold as though entering a sacred space. 

“It’s not a museum; you’re welcome to move around,” you chuckle, barely looking up from the bed. When you finally do draw your gaze away from what’s been set out for him, you note he is taking in the drawings on your wall, hand outstretched, as though it is itching to trace the lines of each design. You clear your throat.

“Sorry,” he nearly jumps at the sound, though he appears to have been reminded of something, reaching into his coat and dipping a hand into an apparently hidden pocket. “I just remembered I have something for you.”

The wrapping is plain, and you recognize the paper from the butcher’s shop, but each corner is folded carefully by hand with only the subtle imperfections indicating that he has likely completed the project himself. You take a seat on your bed, careful to avoid the clothing spread across your quilt before tearing into it. You blink in surprise at the contents, nearly confused at the book in your hands. It is beautiful, bound in leather, thick and heavy. But it is not until you open it that you process the true weight of the gift, each page just as blank as the last.

“I figured it would be nice not to have to draw on butcher paper anymore.”

“It’s– I– Thank you.” You pull a quick hand across your tear line, eradicating any evidence of a more emotional reaction before swallowing hard and looking away. Friends. You are trying to be friends. 

“Uhm, I laid these out for you,” you say, standing to indicate the clothes your mother had brought in. You swallow any stories about your father, unprepared to be quite so vulnerable yet.

“Do I get a hat?” Treech asks, and you let out a laugh, real and warm.

“Do you want a hat?”

“I wanna look like a real cowboy.” Your mind flits back to that first conversation. The smile on his face tells you his does, too.

“You can wear my hat.” And he doesn’t have to know what it means. Still, Fawn sends you a knowing smirk on your way out the door, and even Lennox allows a curious gaze or two to pass over the addition of your accessory to his outfit. Yours. Yours. Yours.

The barn in the back of City Hall is crowded when you arrive, with most being relieved of their work early in favor of seeing the Victory Tour pass through. There are, of course, formalities to begin the affair, the mayor makes a speech, and Calpurnia, although initially shocked by your presence, brings you up on stage with Treech and Maple to make the ‘welcome statement’ you’d been meant to deliver this morning. Still, after all the fuss is over and the lot of you clear the way for the band, the atmosphere seems to settle into excitement typical for nights when the Dance Hall opens up.

You make your best attempt at teaching the two victors from 7 several easy steps, and though Maple seems to catch on with relative ease, it is not long before the shadow of frustration casts itself over Treech’s features, incapable of keeping up. It is only then you offer to take a break, though the opportunity is quickly lost with the appearance of Lennox who is determined to take over your attempts at tutoring your old friend.

“You’re just not explaining it right,” he says gruffly, skirting quickly around your legs to take his place between Treech and Maple.

“Oh? Is that right. Well then they’re all yours,” you relinquish, casting both hands up in surrender before shooting Treech an apologetic glance. His eyes only grow wider with fear upon taking in the speed at which Lennox is talking, the pace of his feet nearly matching that of his mouth. Back at the table you had claimed before, Fawn remains seated, your mother having disappeared to chat with several of the other women from work while your younger sister picks gloomily at the vegetables that some well-meaning friend of the family had heaped onto her plate without asking.

“Aren’t you a bit old to still be playing with your food?” Still, she does little to acknowledge your comment, instead staring past you, and a glance over your shoulder confirms she is looking directly at Treech.

“You still love him, don’t you?” The question nearly has you jumping out of your skin. Still, you elect to avoid any direct sort of answer, because the truth is, you aren’t sure.

“How would you know?”

“I’m your sister. I know you better than I know myself,” Fawn does look at you now, with those big brown eyes, just like your father’s. And you look away. Look at Treech. At the slow, anxious smile he wears trying to follow Lennox’s fast-paced teachings. At Maple two feet behind him attempting to swallow a laugh. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so rattled.

“Yeah. I do.” And really you always have, but the moment it passes your lips, there is no taking it back.

“Well, was it worth it?” Fawn presses.

“What?” You ask in return.

“Whatever reason he had for breaking your heart all those years ago?” You think back to this morning. And I spent these last four years pushing you away, praying it would be enough to keep you safe. Keep you safe. Had he? You’re still unsure.

“He seems to think so.” 

“And you don’t?” Fawn lifts a single brow in question, always so adept in peeling back the layers you press on to conceal the truth.

“I think he was doing what he thought he had to in order to protect me.”

“And is that a bad thing?” You aren’t sure if you’ve thought about that before, so focused on the anger and frustration at time lost for a plan you cared little to acknowledge as worthwhile that you forgot to consider the weight of his intention.

“No, but he lied to me to do it. Purposefully kept me in the dark about things and pushed me away. How am I supposed to trust someone who does things like that?”

“But he told you the truth eventually, right?” You are almost arguing just to argue. Determined to be right. To be acknowledged as right.

“Well, yes, but–”

“All I’m saying is, I haven’t seen you look after yourself since Dad died. So maybe having someone to take care of you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” This time, you are quiet and when Fawn looks to you for some sign that she should continue, you only manage a nod. 

“Look, I don’t know what it’s like for you out there, but I know things are a hell of a lot different. And I also know that you’re not very good at playing games–” The hair on your neck prickles with indignation.

“What the fu–”

“Stop. I’m being serious. You’re blunt and emotional and a terrible liar.” You could just about wring her neck.

“Careful, I think you might be about to say something nice about me–” She only presses on, leveling you with a cool and even stare.

“But this guy, he seems like he gets it. Like he knows the right things to say and do. And he looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars. And if he thinks he did what he had to, well then I’d trust his gut before I’d trust yours.” Your mouth opens and closes several times before any singular thought is given the opportunity to fully formulate and you can only gape, because suddenly Fawn seems so old and you’re not quite sure how you managed to miss it. Not quite sure when you looked away and the old Fawn, squealing and pigtailed got up and disappeared.

“Fawn I–” You are interrupted, of course you are interrupted. Still the resentment is incapable of running deep on a night like this, especially when the distraction looming over your shoulder has the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“I was thinking maybe I could steal a dance from you?” Treech extends a hand in your direction and you tilt your head in question before noting the relaxed sway of the dancefloor’s current occupants as a slow tune rings out around you.

“I would–”

“Actually, I get the next dance,” Fawn cuts in, quickly abandoning her now cold leftovers in favor of catching the man by the wrist and tugging him away from you.

“Fawn–” You nearly choke in surprise.

“What? Just because you okayed him doesn’t mean I’m not still gonna grill the fuck out of him.”

It is much later when Treech finds you again, Lennox’s slumped form curled up in your lap, his head resting easy on your shoulder. By now, it has long since been time to go, but Fawn had insisted on putting the poor lumberjack through the wringer of a myriad of line dances, leaving him flushed with embarrassment and itching for an escape.

“Not so fast, pretty boy; I still haven’t gotten that dance you promised me.” 

The barn is all but cleared out now with most of the stragglers getting ready to go and even the band starting to pack up, but a single nod from you to the woman with the fiddle has her pulling the instrument from its case once more with a smile and striking up a slow tune. You turn to your mother deep in conversation with an old man you recognize from the ranch and unload your brother into her arms with practiced ease, before lacing your hand with Treech’s and pulling him to the center of the floor. 

“Should I waltz, or–” His hand wraps itself around your waist, eyes immediately falling to the ground. 

“Relax. It’s just us. You have to stop thinking so hard. Just listen to the music and look at me. Your feet will do the rest of the work I promise you.” He takes a deep breath and you squeeze the hand holding yours, subtly encouraging him to loosen up. Eventually, it works, and the beginnings of a grin crack through the mask of nerves.

“You’re smiling. I thought you hated dancing.”

“It’s easier with you. Everything is easier with you.”

The tune is an old one, soft and sad. You can recall your father humming it to himself after a long day’s work, perhaps that is why you know the song has only just reached its halfway point when your mother calls out, letting you know it’s time to go.

It is later that night when you finish your dance, drunk in your kitchen, two pairs of clumsy feet trampling all over one another. Between the two of you, you manage to down a quarter of your mother’s contraband bottle of whisky before making your best attempts at sketching one another out on the brand new pages of your sketchbook. Treech only manages a crude drawing of your face, echoing the skill level of a child and though your sketch does little justice to the talent you boast sober, you sit, feet draped across his lap and quiet giggles passing your lips, copying down every aspect of his face. Hoping to etch the memory of it into your mind aswell, his curls a messy halo, his cheeks flushed with the liquor’s effects. Beautiful, you think absently.

“What?” Treech’s eyes shoot up to meet yours brow arching in a question, but the lazy smile on his face betrays the fact that he’s heard you, and you fight the urge to shrink away with embarrassment.

“I–”

“I think you’re beautiful too. Always did. That’s why I remembered your hat, you know? From your Games? It was the only time I’ve ever had to stop like that. Like nothing else in the world mattered except looking at you.” The confession slips happy and slurred from his mouth, though he follows it with a quick dip of his head which does little to conceal the blush that has now spread to his ears.

“I called you pretty the first night we met,” you share, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“I know. I heard you that time too.” And that smile has returned, and you’re certain it could provide you with enough warmth to survive every winter for the rest of your life.

“You little shit.” And you laugh, and that kitchen in the Victor’s Village, that has always felt to big, fits just right. For one moment. One blissful moment.

“I’m leaving.” The knock at your bedroom door had come as a bit of a surprise and, you won’t lie, with the added bonus of your hangover a nuisance of sorts. It was early, the hands on your clock indicating the time to be several minutes past 5:00 am, still your best efforts at ignorance did little in the way of driving your unwanted guest away, so you’d risen, groggy and half unsure of your footing only to find Treech, poised to knock again on the other side.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t the train station,” you groan eyes only just beginning to peel open, but upon allowing the light to break through, you note the desperation contorting his features and that alone is enough to pull you from the maw of sleep.

“I can’t say goodbye to you in front of all those people.”

“Why not?” You know why not.

“You know why not.” Still, you’d promised just friends, and not amount of drunk waltzes in your kitchen or late night sketch sessions with his hair brushing your cheek as he propped his chin on your shoulder to watch could change that. You offer stiff handshake, palm extended in search of his.

“Friends?” Treech blinks, slowly. Once. Twice. His hand slides perfectly into your own, fingers wrapping gently around your skin still warm with sleep.

“Friends.” But then a minute passes, and there is his hand, still in yours. And there are all those thoughts you’ve been working so hard to suppress. And he is pulling away, mumbling something about getting going, but your grip just won’t relent, eyes beginning to pool with inexplicable tears before you tug him closer. So fast. Too fast maybe. 

You are nose to nose and he blinks steadily in return, though his breath comes out labored and heavy. 

“I don’t want–” You look down, your hair invading all pretense of personal space as you lean forward into him, eyes fixed on the floor. His grip on your hand tightens.

“I don’t wanna be your friend.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend either.” And when you lift your head, it is as though he is drinking you in for the very first time, studying a face that has somehow become lost to him, before his hand drops yours and moves to grip at your waist, pulling you close and his eyes drop down to your lips, almost closing entirely. Still, he waits, just as he always has, for you. And when you give in, you do give in, it is bliss, his mouth on yours once more, arms tightening against your form, rendering you inseparable. Nearly inseparable. 

“Your breath stinks.” Treech pulls back, a grimace lighting his features and you instantly recoil in embarrassment, hand flying from its place on his neck to cover your mouth. You squirm in his arms, attempting to free yourself from the scrutiny, but he only tightens his hold on you, letting out a low laugh before dipping to trail several kisses down your neck. You elect to bring both hands to your face instead, obscuring your visage entirely.

“Sorry about that, my asshole ex woke me up without warning.” He expels a sharp gust of air against your shoulder, an indicator he finds this situation all too charming before shifting his tone to fake indignance.

“I thought we were friends?”

“Friends don’t usually taste eachothers morning breath, but maybe that’s just my opinion.”

And he mumbles something low and indecipherable into your hair, pressing additional kisses into the mess. Something that sounds like I love you. And in the dull silence of those quiet morning hours, the beat of your heart sounds exactly the same.

Treech has been gone for two weeks when the letter comes. There isn’t even a stamp in the corner. Just an envelope with your name on it and a single piece of paper tucked inside with an address printed in neat lettering across the page. Beneath it, someone has scribbled down a time and date as though that information was some sort of afterthought. Your stomach drops immediately upon opening it, and you are quick to assume the worst. That they saw you with Treech, in your own home. Of course. Snow would have to be some sort of idiot not to have cameras planted in the newly constructed Victor’s Village.

The letter is from the Capitol. That much you can be sure of. The heavy feeling of the cardstock between your fingers is enough to signal the mail has emerged from a place of luxury: the best most people could find in 10 is old butcher paper. Still, perhaps you are wrong. You remember the feeling of Treech’s letter to you from 7, along with a scrawled comment about how being in charge of paper production had its benefits. You remember the sketchbook he’d left you with less than a month ago. Your heart feels lighter, if only for a moment.

But you know Treech’s handwriting like the back of your hand, the boyish charm to his messy lettering and rushed sentences. Besides, everything that came from him smelled of cedar and arrived veiled in a thin layer of sawdust. You liked to imagine sometimes he wrote to you from the same desk where he sat hard at work, carving whistles in the shapes of birds for his little sisters.

No. This letter was different. Drenched in the stink of expensive cologne with ink that appeared dark and smudged in certain places, too wet to be from the cheap pens you know most Districts keep on hand.

Your chest bundles with nerves, remaining tight and suffocating until the very moment of the meeting arrives, the address bringing you to an old ranch most had believed to be unoccupied for some time. You take a steadying breath as you raise your fist to the door but find no time to knock as it swings open, revealing a familiar figure. Hilarius Heavensbee in the flesh.

“Oh good, you’re here. Come in; I have a proposition for you.”

[blueesnow]

(4/6) Ichinose Tokiya's Private Story [Utapri Live Emotion]

Ch 1: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 6 with Tokiya)

-Shining Agency's Hallway- Haruka: (Hmm… Oh no. What should I do with this…) Tokiya: …Oh, Nanami-kun. To think you have such a troubled face, what exactly happened? Haruka: Ichinose-san. Actually someone I worked with before suddenly gave me two tickets to a stage play. Haruka: Since I had it I thought I'd like to go and check it out, but my friend… Tomo-chan suddenly can't make it since it conflicted with her schedule. Tokiya: I see. So there's one left unused huh. Haruka: Yes. If only I could find just one more person who want to go… Tokiya: …. Can I see that ticket? Haruka: Oh yeah, here. Tokiya: This… Isn't this a play that was created by an up-and-coming director? Haruka: Ichinose-san, don't tell me you're interested in it? Tokiya: That's right, it has been a hot topic for some time now that this play would feature quite a bolder approach that we'd never seen before. Tokiya: Since there might be a lot that I could learn from this, I was just thinking about ordering a ticket for a while. Haruka: Really!? If you're free today… then here I'll give you two of these tickets, so why don't you go there with someone else. Tokiya: Ah… thank you for being so considerate. I do appreciate your feelings. Tokiya: Nanami-kun, since it went like this, why don't you and I go together?

Ch 2: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 11 with Tokiya)

-Shining Agency's Hallway- Haruka: Eh…are you okay going with me? Tokiya: These tickets were originally given to you in the first place. Wouldn't it be strange if the person herself didn't even go there? Tokiya: And besides didn't you want to see this play too, that's why you were trying to search for someone else to go with? Haruka: Yes, but… Ichinose-san is an idol after all, I thought it'd be troublesome for you if we go there together. Tokiya: Thanks for looking out for me, but you don't have to worry too much about it this time. Tokiya: Since I already have experiences in the entertainment industry, I at least knew how to blend in the crowd and erase my aura. Please don't underestimate me. Haruka: Well then…if you say so. I'm in your care. -Later on- -Theater- Tokiya: Look, we got into the theater without any problems right. With these seats we should be able to enjoy the show at our leisure. Haruka: Fufu, it's not that much longer until the show starts. I'm getting excited. Tokiya: This sense of excitement that gradually increases is one of the joys of going to the theater. Tokiya: It seems like there's a lot of effort put into the music for this performance, is that what you're aiming for? Tokiya: Apparently the director originally studied opera. It seems like we might be able to see a lot of variety of music in this play. Haruka: To think you already know so far about it, as expected of Ichinose-san…! Tokiya: It's not that big of a thing. …Guess I talked a bit too much. Tokiya: Oh, it's starting. Let's enjoy it to the fullest.

Ch 3: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 21 with Tokiya)

-Theater- Haruka: Phew… That was so good…! Tokiya: You're right, that was indeed a good play. I was surprised at how they arranged the main theme to each scene. Tokiya: Especially towards the end. The way they're immersing themselves in their roles by layering the rising emotions with the tense rhythms. It was such a brilliant move. Haruka: Yes. Just thinking of it again makes my heart beats faster… It's as if the sounds are overflowing from the bottom of my heart! Tokiya: Looks like you might create a wonderful music once again. I hope you can also make an amazing song for us, ST☆RISH, too. Haruka: I'll do my best…! Thank you so much for coming here together with me today. Tokiya: Likewise. I also gained a new inspiration just like you, although I do feel a little bit jealous. Tokiya: Next time, I will be the one who'll be helping you in your composing. Haruka: To think you would say that…I'm happy to hear that. Tokiya: I will definitely make it happen. Next time, please allow me to invite you to my workplace. (choices) <Is it really okay...?> Haruka: I'm happy that you would invite me but, is it really okay…? Tokiya: Of course. Or don't tell me, you're not interested a bit in my work? …Fufu, don't make that face, I'm just kidding. Tokiya: I'm just teasing you a little bit. It's because I want you to be there that I invited you out in the first place. <I want to go!> Haruka: Ichinose-san's work…! It'd be my pleasure, I want to go and see it! Tokiya: When I hear you said it like that, it made me feels like I have to absolute show you my best performance. Tokiya: I will do my best so that I could provide you with some good inspirations. (back to story) Tokiya: That's right…I'm also currently in the middle of drama filming, so why don't you go and check that out. Haruka: Yes, gladly! I'll be looking forward to it from today.

Ch 4: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 31 with Tokiya)

-Hotel Lobby- Haruka: (The location for the drama filming…is here, right. I wonder where's Ichinose-san is…) Tokiya: I'm right here, Nanami-kun. I've been waiting for you. Haruka: Ichinose-san, thank you for today. What kind of scene are they going to shoot here? Tokiya: It's a scene where the young man, who I play, finally comes to a party while pretending to be someone else's acquaintance. According to the script, it's supposed to be around here… Director: Ichinose-san, can you come here please? Tokiya: Yes, I'll be right there! My apologize, Nanami-kun. I'll be leaving you for a while. Haruka: Don't worry about it. I can also look after your luggage for you if you don't mind? Tokiya: Thank you for your consideration. I'll be back soon, so you can wait for me on that sofa. Haruka: (This title…is that the original novel the drama is based on. There are a lot of sticky notes stuck on it…) - Tokiya: Sorry to keep you waiting so long. Ah…that book, please don't look at it too much. Haruka: I'm sorry, I got a bit curious. Looks like you also check the original work very thoroughly. Tokiya: That's because I want to fully express the emotional subtleties that cannot be felt just from the script alone. Tokiya: And besides, it's natural for me, as an actor, to read the original work, right. It's not something that's unusual. Haruka: (But still, it's so amazing that you're reading this so intently. I can feel the passion that Ichinose-san puts into his role.) Tokiya: You're also here too for today. I hope that you properly watch me while I get serious.

Ch 5: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 41 with Tokiya)

Ch 6: (unlocked if you reached intimacy lvl 51 with Tokiya)

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 15

I'd just like to thank @multi-universe21 for the Spanish Translations for these last two chapters.

The last one guys! This is the very last chapter! I can't believe it. I've been putting off posting this all day, because I'm so sad that this is over now :( Keep in mind, my request are always open. And I'll miss all you pookies so much 🫶. Follow if you'll miss me too, or don't. 🫶

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smut (Actually this time!!), sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, i guess Instagram posts?? Angst! Lots of it! Tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal tjdjindahouse

Word count: 4.3k

Masterlist

Part 14

Y/N'susername 12 January 2024

Liked by CarlosSainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, LandoNorris and 1,647,903 more Some might say it’s too fast, but you and I have always loved a fast pace. Tagged: CarlosSainz55 Comments: CarlosSainz55: So obsessed with you. I love you so much. <3

Charles_Leclerc: So happy for you two <3

Alexandrasaintleux: You’re gonna be a Sainz before the end of the year!

LandoNorris: Well done, @CarlosSainz55, you found someone who will put up with you like I do…where’s my proposal? CarlosSainz55: You’re not as pretty as her. 🤷 LandoNorris: A dagger to the heart😭

Comments have been limited.

Y/N'susername 6 March 2024

Liked by CarlosSainz55, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 198, 379 more Working hard or hardly working? The first option. Tagged: Francisa.cgomes and CarlosSainz55 Comments:

CarlosSainz55: Missing you so much already, mi futura esposa. Y/N’susername: I haven’t been this far away from you since we met😭

Francisca.cgomes: Already having so much fun with you!

Francisca.cgnomes: @CarlosSainz55, you’re all she talks about ✋ Y/N’susername: Nooo, don’t expose me😭

Comments have been limited.

The cold air hits your face, you don’t remember Paris being this cold. It doesn’t help that the dress you’re being fitted with doesn’t do much for heat. You pull the coat you’d been given closer to your body. It’s luckily big, Dior doesn’t want any paparazzi seeing their opening outfit.

You’re exhausted, it’s two days before fashion week starts. You’ve been pulled into a million places, auditions, fittings, rehearsals and everything in between. The cold air makes you crave a cigarette so badly. Not only that, you miss Carlos more than anything. You haven’t seen him in a month. You call almost every night, but it still isn’t enough. When he’s busy, you’ll play the Ferrari video again. He isn’t himself, but it is close enough.

You can hear someone calling your name but assume that it’s the same people who have been calling you all day. That is of course, until someone grabs you from behind and turns you around to face them.

Your fight or flight kick in before you can even see who it is. Your arms flail and your legs kick in all different directions. Not really caring for the pins stabbing into your side. Where are Otis and Brutis when you truly need them?

“Y/N, Y/N! C'est moi! C’est moi!” You know that voice, you know that accent, you know these strong arms. Your kicking stops, but your screaming doesn’t. “Bérenger! Let go of me, you fucker!” He does, he drops you right as you are. You don’t even turn to him, your bare feet hit the pavement with some speed. Before you can even open the door again, he stops you once more.

He calls you again, but this time you turn to him with fury. “Don’t you remember? I’m a whore, and a slut who sleeps with pedos?” You can see your brother bite the inside of his cheek. “What? You were so opinionated when Jean was disowning me! Now, you have nothing to say?” You scoff at his utter silence, but it doesn’t last long.

“Nothing I say will make you believe me, so I’ll just show you.” He pulls out a phone and shows you an image. “What the fuck is this?” He sighs at you refusing to even look at his phone. “It’s a picture of Carlos at the restaurant where you worked, three months before you actually met.” You trusted him, just as you had trusted Jas and Ilsa and told him everything.

Now you regret it more than anything. You look, and you recognised those booth seats and plates, you’d seen them so many times before. You shrug, “May be, but it could be chalked up to coincidence. What are you even trying to say?” His jaw locks and then he swipes to the right, then again and again and then he hands you the phone telling you to do the same.

“Bérenger, what am I looking at?” He still looks on edge but continues to explain. “I hired a private detective. He found this on Carlos’ cloud.” Now you laugh at him, “That’s not possible. I’ve looked at Carlos’ pictures before, and I’ve never seen these photos before.” You go to leave, thinking he’s just lying to hurt you again.

“His phone, yes! But not his laptop, not his PC, and not his cloud.” It’s true, yes. “What would these photos even mean?” You cross your arms, finally allowing him to speak. “He’s been stalking you, can’t you see? Months before you even met and he has hundreds of photos of you!”

This catches your attention. You sigh, and shake your head, trying to make sense of what he is saying. “Please, Y/N, you’re my sister. All our siblings missed you so much over Christmas. The girls were so excited to see you got engaged and couldn’t believe their ears when I told them what happened.”

This hits you in the stomach. It has to be wrong. He has to be lying. Or else your whole world will truly become crumbling down. More than ever before. “Is, is that all?” He shakes his head repeatedly.

“No, no there’s so much more.” How could there ever possibly be more than stalking? “I have to go, but I have just one day off tomorrow before a hectic week. Here’s my hotel room, we’ll talk.”

Your heart is racing in your ears, you don’t really listen to the people talking to you. You just sit in the makeup chair, trying to keep your stomach from twisting and turning. It has to all be lies, right? He must just be trying to get in your head, to hurt you even more. But, if you truly believed that it's all lies, why would have you agreed to meeting him?

The ringing hits your ear, not panic ringing but your phone. Your hands shake seeing Carlos’ name on your phone. For a fact, you know that if you don’t answer, he is going to worry all day. You don’t want that, he’s your fiancé! But, does he really love you or are his jokes more the truth. Each time he tells you he’s obsessed with you, flies through your mind.

Was he being honest with you? Waiting for you to realise? You turn airplane mode on and the phone goes quiet.

Then there’s also the option of your brother lying. After all, he didn’t defend you that night. He didn’t leave with you when your parents kicked you out. In fact, he made it even worse. He called you and Carlos horrible names and haven’t tried to reach out.

Now you wish Kika was with you on this Dior shoot to help you think all this out.

“You have 10 minutes because 10 minutes is all you gave me.” You both sit down on the balcony of your hotel room. You show him the 10-minute timer on your phone and as soon as the clock starts ticking he begins talking. “I don’t need ten minutes. I can tell you all you need to know now.” You don’t say a word, allowing him to continue.

“Carlos paid us a million euros to disown you.”

He doesn’t even say another word, clearly he can see you spinning. “What?” He nods and then pulls out his phone. Your eyes don’t deceive you. Nothing is truer than the image of your parents sitting on the porch of their new mansion. Bright smiles are on their faces. He swipes to the next photo and you see your siblings being spoiled with lavish gifts.

Now you’re glad that you’re sitting down. Your heart rate has skyrocketed, and you can’t help but look around at everything you now own. The million-euro ring on your finger feels much heavier than ever before. Suddenly you feel exhausted, and a throbbing headache makes itself known. Your throat is dry and your eyes burn with tears.

“No, no, this…this is edited. It must be.” The sun feels too bright and your chest feels too tight. What else is left for you, if you don’t have Carlos? Yes, you have Kika and Alex, but if you lose Carlos you lose them too.

You’ve kicked your friends out of your life. You don’t have your family anymore. He’s it. Carlos is the only real stable person in your life. His family, his friends, they’re the only people you have.

Your brother panics, he pours you a glass of water and you swallow it with one big gulp. What’s even worse than having no one but him, is you realise that that is what he wanted. He wanted himself to be the only one in your life. For you to be isolated and depend on him and only him. He’s used his influence and his money to remove your friends, your family, your job and your person.

“Ilsa? Jasmine? Did he…?” Bérenger nods before you can even finish your sentence. It confirms your thoughts. “There’s more…” he pours you another glass of water. “He planned your meeting. We searched and we couldn’t find a single article of any mob or crazy fans that whole day. We looked in further… and found out that he paid your old boss to make sure you ended up in that ally on that day.”

What?

He's obsessed. He's crazy.

Then the contract enters your mind. NDA. Non-disclosure agreement. Is this why he had you sign it? You thought it was just a safety concern for Ferrari. To make sure they don’t lose any sponsors or something like that. Now you see it’s to protect himself. All just to make sure you don’t say a word. Because if this gets out, he’ll lose everything. He’d be in an even worse position than you.

“Bérenger. You need to leave.” His brows furrow together. “I have photos of that too if you don’t believe me. Recordings, audios, you name it.” You shake your head.

“No, no. I signed an NDA. You aren’t allowed to know any of this. He could sue you into oblivion. He could…” Memories of him saying he’d have people fired. The look in his eye when he would tell you what would happen.

He doesn’t move. “No, no. You’re my sister. He can sue me all he wants.” You shake your head, over and over. Standing up on your wobbly legs. Trying to push his huge body from the seat. “He’ll do worse. Much worse, I’m sure.” His eyes go big at your reaction. “Leave. Now.” He sighs and then takes your phone and puts in his new number.

“If you need me. For anything. Message me, call me.” You can only nod. “Be careful. Don’t let the guards see you looking anything but normal.” Then you realise, they’d likely already told Carlos that Bérenger has visited. “Turn your location off. Don’t use the same road twice. His reach is far. Be careful.”

Your mind is reeling. Should you call him or wait for him to call you? If he does call you, should you lie? Pretend you don’t know anything and then buy a plane ticket with your own money? How would you even get to the airport without the guards? If you leave now, you’ll lose all your modelling jobs. Everything you’d been working hard for. Your dreams, you’d be throwing your dreams down the drain.

The phone rings, and you see his name on your screen. Your hands shake as you answer the phone. You don’t hear anything and can’t even speak. “¿Mi amor?” He asks through the phone, sounding just so innocent. ‘My love’. Are you really his love or just something he owns? Like some watch he’s crazy about.

You go to speak, but your throat fails you. Sobs echo through the hotel room. “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me.” Your tears become more, he was so perfect. Too perfect. “What did you do?” Your voice is just above a whisper but you can hear him shift on the other end.

He chuckles, thinking it’s some sort of prank. “What are you talking about? Don’t mess with me now. You didn’t call me back yesterday. I was worried sick.” Each of his words are like knifes into your heart. “Bérenger told me everything.” It’s such a struggle to even speak. “And you believe him?” He doesn’t even ask what Bérenger told you. It just confirms it more to you.

“He showed me the photos, Carlos.” You can hear him curse in Spanish on the other side. ��Carlos, I loved you, how could you do this to me?” You pull your legs close to your chest, some sort of protection. It doesn’t stop your heart pounding. “And you still do. You still love me, don’t you mi amor? You told me, I’d never get in trouble with you.”

You scoff at his pleas. “That’s before I found out that you paid my parents to disown me!” He scoffs the same as you had. “You say that as if you loved them because they didn’t love you. Think about it, mi amor, they took the money, didn’t they? If they loved you they would’ve kicked me out there and then. But they didn’t.”

He’s right. Who would be so evil as to give up their own daughter, just like that? Clearly, you never really meant much to them. Why are you caring now? He must sense you coming to this realisation.

“I did it for you. I hate the way they made you feel. Weren’t they so cruel? They would hurt you over and over and I couldn’t stand it. Shouldn’t my love be a good enough reason?”

Another cry courses through you. It’s quiet for quite a bit, just the sound of your crying. You can hear the shuffling before he speaks. “We’re hoping on the plane now. Don’t go anywhere.” This just makes your cries worse. “No, no, please. You can keep everything. The car, the jewels, the clothes anything. Just, please don’t hurt me. Or my family.”

You can hear his footsteps stop. “No, no, mi amor. You know I’d never hurt you. Don’t you?” You don’t say anything, you can’t. You’re shaking and your cries become too much. “Don’t do anything rash. We’ll be there tomorrow.” You throw the phone across the bed, wanting to be as far away as possible from it.

Without even thinking, you throw open the door and face your bodyguards. They don’t even turn to you. “Who are you two loyal to? Me or Carlos?” They don’t say anything, like always. You pluck on Otis’ sleeve, he’s shorter and you’ve him smile…once but once is enough for you to reach out. “If Carlos comes for me, trying to take me, who will you go with?”

You can see him gulp and his face soften. “Carlos will not hurt you.” His words are soft and it’s the first time either of them has spoken of you. You scoff and jump on the balls of your feet.

“Answer the question.” You can see he bites his tongue. “We are paid to protect you, from everyone. But also to report everything you do to Carlos.” It’s Brutis who speaks, you both seem shocked.

“Thank you,” it’s all you say before closing the door. You grab your phone again and call your assistant slash publicist slash just about everything. “Y/N, hello beautiful, what can I do for you?” Her voice is always chirpy but it quickly changes when you ask her what would happen if you didn’t show up to any of your shows.

She chuckles, clearly incredibly nervous by your sudden change of heart. “You’d be blacklisted. Not showing up to Dior? As the opener? Yeah, word will spread and you won’t get another runway job again. Why do you ask?” You can hear her panic about her job. “I signed an NDA.” It’s all you say, you don’t want anyone else’s life being ruined.

You sit back down on the bed. Now you need to think clearly. Why exactly is your brother telling you all this? It can’t be to protect you, because if that was the case then he would’ve done exactly as Carlos said. If he really did care about you, he would’ve tried harder.

Bérenger would’ve told him no, beat Carlos’ ass. But he didn’t, so clearly he doesn’t care too much about you.

So why did he bring this to you? Why else but to hurt you and your relationship. Force a break between you and Carlos. To make sure to ruin your connection with him, so that you’d lose the love of your life. Not only that, but you lose everything. Your new family, the Sainz, your new friends, Alex and Kika, and your career.

You’ve dreamed of tomorrow all your life. To walk down that runway, with all those cameras flashing and people screaming. Your wildest dream was walking for someone like Dior. As a little child, you’d wear your mother’s clothes and put on a little runway show for your siblings. It was one of the few times they’d show some sort of interest.

When you were cooking, you’d always imagine being on a show. Explaining in great detail what you're making and people would love it. People would love you. That’s what you’ve always wanted if you really think about it. To be adored and obsessed over. And that’s what Carlos has given you. He’s given you a world where this is a reality.

You peek behind the curtain and look at all those seats. Then you look at the window outside and see the incredibly long line of people. Much more than the seats put out. An hour. One whole hour before you walk the runway for the very first time. Now just any runway, the Christian Dior runway.

Yes, you spend weeks practising your model walk. You’ve rehearsed this runway three times now. Your outfit is perfect, your hair is perfect, all you’re waiting for now is makeup, jewellery and touch ups. But you can feel your heart in your ears. Yes, you’ve wanted this all your life but now that it’s here, you feel like throwing up.

All those people, watching your every move. They’ll know if you’re breathing too heavily, if you're walking too fast, you’re certain that they can smell fear. And boy are you scared. What if you slip and fall. Then again, Naomi Campbell fell on the runway and that became an iconic moment. But are you as iconic as her? Could you ever live up to her?

What if you sneeze and the whole dress bursts open? What if the dress just falls apart as you walk, leaving you naked for everyone to see? You’d be the laughingstock of the model world. Never again seen on the runway, doomed to forever be remembered as the girl whose dress fell apart. Or the girl who was far too unprofessional for the runway.

“Are you okay?” The makeup artist’s voice snaps you out of your hyperventilation. Your thoughts are torn between two very important things. But really they come together for one big thing, your future. And one question affects both things. Do you still want to be with Carlos? “Yeah, sorry. My mind is just all over the place. Very nervous, my first show.” You shrug and she smiles.

“What usually helps when you're nervous?” His name instantly pops into your mind. “My fiancé. He’s always been my rock.” There hasn’t been a moment since you met him that he hasn’t been there for you. If that’s due to an obsession or love, does it really matter? What really is the difference? What if love isn’t enough for you?

Your parents claimed to love you. Your friends claimed to love you. You claimed to love your job. But all three of those are lost at just the mention of money. Not Carlos. To him, money wasn’t even an object. He didn’t care if you got your new shoes dirty or never wore something his money bought. Because to him, there’s always more money but not more of you.

“Speaking of…” the make-up artist’s eyes glance to one of the side entrances. His hair is always something you notice first. You hope he never loses it, even if he goes completely grey. Then it’s the crinkle in his brow, he’s always so worried. Then the way his eyes scan the room, always looking for you. It’s not that he always wants you by his side, it’s just that he wants you safe.

He’s by your side before you can even blink. His hands fit into yours, and like always you reach for the other. “Mi amor, please let me explain.” He’s down on his knees, opening himself up to vulnerability. So many people here could take a photo at any time. But he doesn’t care, he just thinks about you and keeping you.

“Carlos, I can’t do this.” His eyes go big and he shakes his head. “No, no please mi amor. I love you, I can’t lose you. I know some actions to protect you might have been a bit… unorthodox but it all came out of love.” You chuckle and kiss his forehead. “I know and you’re right. Good riddance, I mean. If they gave me up that easily, for that little amount, then I’m better off without them.”

His face lights up and he gives you his charming smile. “You mean it?” You nod and smile, “What I can’t do, is this show. Ask Ava here, I’ve been hyperventilating this whole time. I’m sure she’s so annoyed with me.” The girl gives an uncomfortable chuckle, likely more worried about her job than yours.

He stands up and rubs your shoulders. “Don’t worry, handle it like you do the paparazzi. Because you handle it better than any celebrity that I’ve ever seen.” He holds back your hair, keeping it out of Ava’s way, still gentle enough not to ruin the style. You laugh, it feels like so long ago now, your first real encounter with fans.

“Will you be watching?” “Of course, imagine it’s just me in the audience. Just you and me.”

“Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Junior, ¡ven aquí ahora mismo o llamaré a tu padre! Quieres decepcionar a papá? Porque si lo haces no podrás venir más a las carreras.” I can’t help but laugh, hearing my wife scold my eldest.

He’s likely run off again trying to find me or Lando or even Charles. It’s nice to hear her speak Spanish. As soon as we found out she was pregnant, she began learning immediately. And she picked it up quick.

“I am shaking in my boots.” Her eyes shine seeing me. Clearly, she’s tired, but still, she is glowing. “Papa!” The little man runs up to me at full speed. His Ferrari shirt is still too big for him at four. But he does insist he’s a big many and doesn’t need the baby sizes. “Are you being naughty? Didn’t I say we must always listen to Mama?”

His wide smile falls, “I’m sorry, papa,” I hate seeing him upset like this. But he does need to know that what she says goes. “You know what they say, happy wife happy life.” Charles comes up behind me, tickling Junior making him cry out in giggles. He then greets Y/N and picks up one of the twins. Also tickling his feet as the other is as always perched on my wife’s hip.

“Aw man, this is why I love the Spanish GP so much,” Charles comments and I can hear my beautiful wife laugh again. “What? To admire my family?” He nods with a smile, “You know it.” I can’t help but shake my head. “Ai, no, get your own.” Charles just rolls his eyes at my shenanigans before he is called away.

I place Junior down, telling him to sit tight. I then bend down and rub her swollen belly. “How are you, mi amor? How is our girl treating you?” She sighs and her fingers find my hair.

“She’s much nicer to me than these two were. But you know how it is when we get to the eight month mark.” I coo and kiss her head. I love seeing her swollen like this. Hands full with our children, in the role I have chosen for her.

“What’s on your mind?” She’s so warm and I just can’t keep anything from her. When she wasn’t pregnant it was hard to say no. Now, it’s basically impossible. “I think I should retire…” Her brows furrow and her bottom lip pops out. It’s no wonder where Junior gets it from. “I have a championship behind my back and this year is looking like another…”

She shrugs and then nods, “You’re his hero, you know? I just don’t want to break that bubble for him.” I sigh, placing my head on her round stomach. The baby kicks my chin and I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m 38, mi amor, my contract ends this year. I don’t want to miss more of my kids growing up.” She holds my face in her hands, this is what I imagine heaven would be like.

“I’ll support you all the way.” I nod and give her a kiss. She pulls Elija, the youngest closer to her. They’re just over a year old. “Look who’s the main breadwinner now.” Elija just babbles on as a reply. This is more than enough for me.

She’s mine, all mine. Three beautiful kids with one on the way. A championship to my name. There is nothing else I could want.

The End.

I just want to quickly add, that this story was written before the Epstein list came out. If the mention of Noami Campbell is too much, please, please tell me so, so that I can delete the mention of her immediately. But like,,,, I'm just a girl and idk what to do 🤷 please tell me what to do😭 Okay, love you bye <3

[aoharushiyo]

the recipes for... | track 1 — chocolate pudding

Translation: en Proofreading: aca, dimi, kimi, myun, jay, jelly

Content Warning: light jokes about death

PatiBattle is my life. A masterpiece containing the quintessential element, the character that gives meaning to my very existence— yeah, you heard that right: his name is Chiyoda Reito.

PatiBattle is my life. A masterpiece containing the quintessential element, the character that gives meaning to my very existence— yeah, you heard that right: his name is Chiyoda Reito.

---

"Come the hell on, if I don't get there soon, it might all be gone…!"

I was held back after school for ages by the teachers today. Some lecture about my behaviour in class or something. Stuff like my attitude being all over the place, or reading manga under my desk in class… But why today, of all days? Of course, I just had to run my mouth and say that I'd listen any other day, please let me off just for today… but that just ended up adding oil to the fire and I got held back even longer.

[ Next Restock TBA ] "…"

I flew into the anime shop I frequented and stopped in front of the display case for newly stocked merch. I hadn't been able to pre-order, so all the merch I wanted had all already been snagged.

"Seriously… I wish this would stop happening…"

And it's just my luck that I don't have any friends I can ask to buy merch for me.

"'Restock TBA'…? The very concept of this should fuck right off."

Student life may as well be slavery. Sure, pointing and laughing at the working class and calling them corporate slaves has been a thing since ages ago, but isn't being a student pretty much the same thing? At these places called 'schools', you're physically limited to what you can do, you're forced into doing club activities after school, and even once you get home, you've gotta do homework or chores… All that takes up a shit ton of time. Adults always overestimate the amount of free time we kids have.

"Fuck…!"

Despite all of that, somehow I'm making do with the little free time I have. Attending events, making shrines, exchanging official and blind box merch, buying out merch stocks[1], nui outings, birthday pilgrimages…

"Aah… my life has no meaning anymore… Just end me already…"

I just couldn't take it any longer. I stumbled out of the store, and, after sparing only a glance to make sure no one was around, started hitting my head against the wall, over and over. Over, and over, and over. I failed. I'm a failure. I'm sorry, Reito, I'm so sorry that I couldn't bring you home.

The theme for the acrylic standee set this time around was 'Training Camp - First Year, Winter ~Wedding Cake~'. A set that dressed every single character in exquisite bridal attire. Not being able to get something like that on the day of its release is absolutely unforgivable. I might as well just die.

The way back was freezing cold. The weather sucked ass, too.

---

Today, I decided to go home instead of returning to the dorms. Here, I can do whatever I want without anyone getting in my way.

"…Yeah, I guess it'll do."

My feelings of frustration needed some kind of outlet. All of the love I was so ready to shower on my new standee had to go somewhere, too — so I eagerly channelled it into something else.

"Aren't you looking pretty good now?"

I held up my apron, extremely pleased with the crooked rows of can badges and pins that covered its entirety. Naturally, the apron was in Reito's image colour. And right over the chest, where my new merch should have been, shone in its place a new, extra-large aluminium standee.[2] That's right. In this patisserie kitchen, we don't have ita-bags — we have ita-aprons, obviously.

"I've gotta finish this before Reito's birthday…"

I guess you could say it's like a way of measuring love. If this weight is the weight of my love, then even if it's heavy because of how many things I've slowly added to it, I can't get enough. I just can't get enough of the insanity of wearing it. Merch of Reito is in ridiculously high demand, so it's really not great for my wallet, but… I'm fine with that. Because only then does it feel like I'm giving up even my soul for Reito.

"Now then…"

Finally satisfied with my sparkling, gleaming rows of badges, I moved onto the next part of my daily routine — checking socials. After all, numerous new fanworks are being created every day.

"Searching for… 'PatiBattle!'…" With great enthusiasm, I searched for every single keyword that I could think of. 'Patissier Battle', 'Chiyoda Reito', 'ReiOu', 'Rei0u', 'ChocoPudding'…[3]

"Damn, this person's art is so good… wait— wait, they drew this!? This is insane! Fuck, oh fuck… I can't take it, it's so radiant that I can't even look at it properly…!"

This must be what it means to be happy. Being able to see the masterpieces being born every day is happiness. While happily wading through my feed, I spent hours lost in the online world.

"…Ah."

There it was: Reito/Shouta. And… blocked. It's like I never saw it in the first place. It really was a shame that they didn't understand the better dynamic. But staying in your own lane makes the world go 'round, so never having to see it again was good enough.

And finally, after checking everything else, I'd left the best for last:

"Sanseiu-sensei…!"

Sanseiu-sensei, the god of ReiOu. Even if they hadn't uploaded anything new, I could spend hours rereading all of their older works.

"What's wrong? Could it be… is that embarrassment I see?" "H-hey! I still can't believe it… What would someone like you see in me…?" "If you keep saying things like that, I'll just go ahead and eat you up." "Mmph…!?" "…Delicious." "R-Reito-kun!" "Aren't you so sweet? Maybe… even sweeter than chocolate."

"Aaah, it's still this good every time I read this!? Even though I've read it before? This flavour never gets old no matter how many times I reread it! Seriously! What the fuck! I'm gonna go insane!"

After rolling around on my bed, I grabbed my pillow and screamed into it while writhing in glee. How was I supposed to remain sane after reading that!?

"It's so cute! It's so cute that I'm gonna die! Killing me directly would be less painful, Sanseiu-sensei!"

Throwing my emotions into this much disarray… that was the power of the great Sanseiu-sensei. I'd heard that they tabled at a large convention a few months ago, but…

"I wanna meet them and thank them…!"

I wanted to go so badly, but…

"…I can't deal with crowds…"

---

[1] 無限回収 mugen kaishuu refers to the act of buying the same merch over and over without caring about the cost. If you've ever seen one of those huge birthday shrines with a million of the same pins? That's the energy.

[2] アルミ arumi basically is a shortened form of ‘aluminium’. This could refer to a can badge, but it could also be an aluminium standee, which is a cutout of an artwork from an aluminium can. Since Ushio is saying that instead of the acrylic standee, he got an arumi, and also that he mentioned can badges earlier, I've gone with this option.

[3] 礼王 is Ushio's OTP, Reito/Ouji. He'll explain this later! After this, he searches for 礼玉. Note that 玉 looks like 王; it's pretty common to use something to censor part of the name so that it doesn't appear in searches. I've replaced the O with a 0 to replicate the same effect since it wouldn't make much sense to literally transcribe it. 'ChocoPudding' is another version of their ship name (which he will also explain later).

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