#do they have running water and thus actual bathrooms

[three-duck-houses]

Part of me thinks it was intended to be Japanese style bath house with communal pools, but then part of me also thinks some of the prissier nobles like Lorenz would maybe object to having to share bath water with commoners?

And then you've got people like Dimitri, Edelgard, and Lysithea who all have scars they try to hide (pretty sure Lysithea does, can't remember if it's fanon) so would also prefer to not use communal baths, or maybe try to only go at quieter times?

Does it depend on if the world has discovered running water or not? Because constantly refilling individual tubs is going to be a royal pain if it's gotta be done with buckets/someone using magic, compared to simply filling and heating one large pool that people were already clean-ish when they got in

And vaguely related - the sauna. What's the procedure for that? You go have your bath, get dressed in sauna clothes, go get sweaty, and then go have another bath...? Or are they skipping the first bath, and just sauna-ing and then washing?

Answers in the tags, if you feel like it? Please?

[tilldeathdoesmedirty]

Another Day 2

Warnings: dub-con/non-con, age gap, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, physical abuse, possibly other triggering events. 

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers x reader.

Summary: Careful what you wish for, one day it could come true. And that might just be your savior in disguise, all it takes is a little bit of persuasion. 

Interact on your own accord. You have been warned. 

Any reblog, comment, feedback is well received and appreciated! Enjoy <3 

You fiddle with the key to your two-room apartment, harshly jamming it in the keychain. If your neighbors didn’t know how you look like, they’d suspect you of being a pick locker. Courtesy of your landlord for not trying to fix the door when you told him about it multiple times. But hey, renting a place that you can actually afford must come with a couple of its own disadvantages, you thought.

Sweet victory, you mumble, as you hear a click from the door, unlocking it. You quickly go in, leaving your coat on the hanger and your now soaked shoes by the door. The apartment is rather dull, not much to look at. Basic cheap TV placed on the wall, a small table in front and next to it a couch that looked older than your grandparents, if they were still alive.

You don’t even need to get started on the bedroom, especially the kitchen. The bathroom being the only decent one in this whole situation. 

Thank god.

You look at the small timer that’s placed on the nightstand next to your bed, 20:00 you read. Enough time to entirely soak yourself in a hot bath, hoping it will make all your worries go away, if only just for a bit.

You run the water, waiting for it to warm up and fill the bathtub. You’re grateful the apartment you’re renting has hot water, not like other ones you’ve lived in even if it was for shorter periods of time, which had to take a lot of time for the water to even be mildly warm. Thus being the only thing you’re actually excited about this whole place. You didn’t even want to imagine the pneumonia you would have had. Would have been the cherry on the cake, bills on top of bills. 

You look out the window, mesmerized by the heavy snow settling on the city tonight. Your mind wanders to your little encounter with Steve, you feel your stomach turn, anxiety washing over as you remember him calling out your name. As much as you try to pick your brain out, you can’t remember ever telling him your name. Even though you should have, it just didn’t cross your mind at the moment. Not exactly professional on your part but no matter, you wouldn’t have forgotten if you did tell him.

You snap back to reality as you feel the hot water reach your arm that you left hanging in the bathtub. You turn the faucet off, stripping out of your clothes and getting in the tub. You let out a heavy sigh as the water swallows you whole. You lean your head back, closing your eyes. 

Everything will be alright, love. It’s just how the world works.

You remember… your mom, her words, everything. You slowly slide your head against the tub, holding your breath as you let your head go underwater. Any sound coming from outside blocked completely, you lose yourself in the silent yet loud ambient noise.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

You scroll through the hundred of pages with the best possible secure locks. You don’t quite understand what more he wants than just a mere lock. Any of them should do honestly, there probably is no such thing as an unpickable lock so why go through the hassle of having to search for hours and hours. You were getting restless. 

You scoff. Prick.

At the last second, just as you’re about to close your work laptop’s screen, your eyes land on a lock and you look over the descriptions. Your eyes glint with triumph. You quickly pick up your phone and dial Steve’s number. You are taken aback by his almost instant response. 

You clear your throat. 

“Hello sir, i’m calling for the lock you requested? I think I may have found what you’re looking for.” you say, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. 

“That’s perfect,” he responds slowly “I trust that you chose well so, when can I expect it?”

“It shouldn’t take long. If I order it now, in a couple of hours the technician should arrive at your place and install it.” you say as you pick up a pen, rolling it between your fingers, occasionally tapping it on the table in a rhythmic manner. 

He gives you an approving hum in return.

“I’ll come by in half an hour to make the payment,” he continues “See you then, sweetheart.” he ends the call. 

You notice a weird tone in his voice, you can’t exactly place it. You always try to ignore when he calls you sweetheart. It gives you such an unsettling feeling.

You don’t like it.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

You hear the main door to the building open then close. You glance over as you see Steve, you look at the time, exactly thirty minutes passed since your last call with him. 

Your coworker was out today, something about a cold. It’s a good thing you don’t get many customers, it’s not that stressful on your own. But in this case, it means it’s just you and Steve now. Alone. 

You greet him with a fake smile, intended for customers as he makes his way to your desk.

“Right on point.” you say, trying to make a light joke. 

“Exactly how I like to be.” he says with a smirk. 

You try your best refraining from rolling your eyes. Thankfully you don’t slip up. 

“So how will it be sir, cash or card?” you continue with a small smile. You don’t know why, but his presence makes you nervous. 

Really nervous. 

“Card, if you don’t mind.” he replies as he takes out his card from his wallet. 

You introduce the price number on the keypad of the card reader. You feel your body tense as you notice his gaze on you. If looks could burn, you’d be on fire. You hold out the card reader, waiting patiently as he puts his card on top of it, a beep emitting from it, meaning the payment was successful. 

You take out the receipt from it and you nervously glance up at him, you hold out your hand with the receipt in it, waiting for him to take it. He looks down at you with a stoic expression, considering you for a couple of seconds, not saying anything. 

And neither do you, you don't dare to. 

He gives you a stern smile. You look at him, careful with your actions and what you’re going to say. 

This doesn’t feel right.

“When do you usually get off?” he suddenly asks. 

You widen your eyes just the slightest, stopping almost instantly as you try to hide your surprise. 

You consider his question, why would he even ask it in the first place?

“Er… about 5pm?” you tell him, more like a question really. 

He hums and nods his head, still smiling. 

“Right then, here’s my address,” he continues like nothing happened. Like what he just asked a couple seconds ago was the most normal thing.

Nonetheless, you write his address down.

“Looking forward to it.” he says. You see the corner of his lip turn up a little just for a second. 

You think that your mind may be playing tricks on you and this was just your imagination. The interaction between you two before he finally decides to leave is pure awkwardness. At least for you. 

You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding in. This should be it, right? No more interactions with him, no more anything. His lock should be installed in a couple of hours, and voila. Mission accomplished.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

You close your work laptop and gather your stuff, preparing yourself to go home and enjoy your free weekend. Mostly just staying in bed, watching tv or reading. So basically doing nothing, like always. 

You exit the building and head for the bus station, it’s pretty dark outside given the fact that it’s just a little over 5pm. Those are the perks of winter, you guess. At least it isn’t snowing as bad as last night but it’s just as cold nonetheless. You try as much as possible to keep the warmth you left with from leaving your body, but obviously, there isn’t much to do about it. 

You wait patiently for the bus to arrive, occasionally looking left and right at the surprisingly empty street, only a couple of cars passing by now and then. After all, this particular bus station isn’t that popular at this type of hour. 

You notice a car that’s slowly coming your way. You don’t think much of it, really, probably just another car passing by. You squint your eyes at the car’s bright headlights as it comes to a stop. 

Right in front of you.

You watch with a blank expression, instinctively your hands clutch your purse harder. You listen to the engine’s low rumble, almost soothing in the silent area. The car window rolls down and you look with curiosity. 

“…Steve?” you say, mostly to yourself. 

In the passenger seat is none other than Steve himself, you raise both your eyebrows in confusion, still not making any movements. 

“Get in.” the silence between you two is interrupted as he suddenly yells out, making sure you hear him from the engine’s noise and the distance you share. 

You give him a puzzled look. 

“What? How did you-…” you start but he cuts you off just before you could decline his kind offer. 

“Sweetheart, i’m not asking. You’re going to freeze to death, get in.” even though he has a calm demeanour and a smile on his face that’s worth a million bucks, it still feels off. 

But against your better judgment and the fact that you were waiting almost half an hour in the insufferable cold for the bus that’s yet to come, you hesitantly get closer to the car, with a frown on your face as clear as day. 

When you’re close enough, you stop. You look at him, trying to find any expression he might give away so that you can have a proper excuse as to why you have this dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach. All you get from him is what seems to be a reassuring smile.

Oh, what the hell you think as you decide to open the car door and get in the passenger’s seat. Putting all your insecurities at the back of your mind. 

“Thank you…” you say, giving him a small smile, as you buckle the seatbelt. 

He stirs the wheel and takes off to the main road “No problem at all.” he replies, looking straight ahead as he gives a smile of his own, his perfect teeth peaking out just the slightest at the corner of his lip, it could almost be mistaken as a smirk. 

After a couple minutes of silence, what helps you remember that you need to give him your address is the passing of the street the bus usually takes on your way home. You almost jump in your seat at your realization. You quickly turn to face him as you blurt out a little too loud the instructions to get to your apartment. You notice he’s startled by your sudden burst as he looks a couple times back and forth at the road and you, in the end settling on the road once again.

He gives out a chuckle while shaking his head “Nobody ever told you it’s not a good idea to startle someone who’s driving?” 

“S-sorry,” you stutter a reply as you turn your head to gaze down at your lap in embarrassment.

“It’s just… you missed a turn, sorry.” 

He hums in response, you even hear a little “Did I” from him. Your eyes narrow and your brows furrow, that’s a weird thing to say, isn’t it? But you choose not to dwell on it too much.

You wait the rest of the ride in silence, at one point you look out the window, focusing on the passing trees and buildings as they blend in together. Feeling more tired by every passing second, you let yourself drift away. You lazily blink a couple of times as it gets harder and harder to keep your eyes open, you rest your head against the window and eventually, you end up closing them. You don’t even spare a second thought about being alone in a car with a stranger, you don’t think of anything at all actually. 

Your place is only a ten minute ride away, after all.

[luvtak]

bath time & four minute love stories

✧ pairing felix x reader

✧ genre/tw so much fluff its actually disgusting, est. relationship, suggestive at the end but no smut xoxo, mc is in the bath and thus they are naked lmao, lots and lots of kissies, felix being the most adorable bf, probably a lot of run on sentences and unnecessary semi colons ://, mostly unedited but i hope you love it!!

✧ w/c 994

masterlist

“Did you know you can fall in love in four minutes?” 

Felix’s voice is a welcomed but intruding sound to the quiet atmosphere of your bathroom. His company, while not unwanted, is a quiet disruption to your alone time; Your bath was meant to be spent by yourself, surrounded by lavender scented candles and the soft melodies coming from your phone, time set aside to relax with your own thoughts. However, this plan was quickly changed when your boyfriend decided your living room was too cold and lonely to be by himself; hence his place outside the tub. 

His figure is out of place on the cold blue tile, slouched over the cabinets and looking at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. You know part of it must be your soap sudded skin out in the open for him to admire, but he never looks down–keeping steadfast eye contact as he speaks in soft whispers. 

“And! And! If you make eye contact with someone for like… seven seconds you’ll fall in love, like right away!” God, he’s so excited… and dreamy. Something about the steamy room turning him into a daydream before your eyes. 

“Baby, I don’t think that’s true.” you laugh. You wonder where he heard this fun fact, but you’ll be forever endeared at his willingness to believe. Too often he’ll come home spouting off crazy stories he thinks are true or instagram articles filled with obvious pr stunts and gossip that he takes as gospel. 

“It is true, it was on the internet! And anyway, I definitely fell in love with you in four minutes, so it must be true.” His silken voice is laced with happiness and honesty like always. Felix confesses his love like he’s reading off the daily paper, an unbiased summary of events. Too often you’re surprised by how nonchalant his affections are, seducing you with soft touches and domestic romance you never dreamt of having. 

“Just because it was on the internet doesn’t mean it’s true…” 

Even with your eyes closed you can see his eyes roll, scoffing at your cynicism. He wasn’t lying, the very first time he spoke to you he knew you were his. Lovely and warm and his. 

You were sitting on the stairs at some party, bored out of your mind and so beautiful he couldn’t believe you were real. He hit on you with practiced grace and such adorable nervousness you couldn’t help but agree to go out.

 Looking at him now, it’s almost a shock to believe he’s still here with you, sitting on a cold bathroom floor just because he couldn’t help being away from you. 

He’s angelic against the candlelight, a vision out of a storybook; a fairy prince come to steal you away. 

You wonder if you’ll ever be brave enough to tell him, speak all your wishes and desires as clearly as he tells you. 

“My love, it has to be true–it happened to us.” His voice is so deep and so quiet, it takes a few minutes to blink out the loved up haze you were in to really hear him. Hear how true these words are and have no doubt he means them. You don’t know if you did fall in four minutes–it could have been thirty seconds or three months, but you do know you love him now. You love him almost too much, it’s all consuming and obsessive and true.

He’s looking at you moony-eyed and colorful and the water is going tepid, but with his gaze pointed at you, you feel as hot as you did when the bath began. There is something to say about how even with your body laid out bare before him, he is staring at your eyes–with every freckle, stretch mark, and scar ready for him to map out, the only thing he is truly focused on is the way your lips gently tilt up. Sure, it’s the bare minimum and you wouldn’t expect anything less from him, but it still has a confession bursting out of your smile. 

“It did, didn’t it? I remember being so sure we’d be together forever that night, even if all you did was ask for my number.” 

You know he isn’t used to you divulging so much of your feelings, but it is still a surprise when he rushes closer to the tub–quickly getting up and stepping inside fully clothed. He settles on top of you, jostling you and giggling when water spills over the side. Kisses pressed all over you, some gentle pecks and others all teeth and drool because he’s laughing too hard. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” and even though it’s uncomfortable and you know you’re making a big mess, all you can do is laugh along with him. Snorting and gasping through the giggles when his lips swipe over a uniquely tickly spot. 

You love him too, so much, and while it’s hard to say, it’s the easiest thing in the world to show him. Swiping slightly damp strands from his eyes and holding his hands against the water, if he didn’t rush in you’re sure you’d be shivering by now, but with his body atop yours you don’t think you’ll ever be cold again. 

He’s still kissing you, swiping his tongue against your lips before slowly easing himself in, and taking control of the kiss. It’s dangerous how he’s kissing you, but it all feels so innocent–he’s yours, yours and no one else’s and even if you’re undressed it’s the purest thing you’ve ever felt. 

“Come on,” his voice is a shadow of itself, deeper and more shaky than you’ve ever heard it. “Let’s get dried off, huh, so I can put you to bed.” but the way he’s looking at you, all teeth and blown out pupils; flushed from the water and all the kisses, you don’t think he’s going to simply tuck you in. 

© LUVTAK

[bomber-grl]

fluffy touch-starved Prompt #15 for Leo? His hair surely gets veeery dirty, after all!

Prompt #15: washing the other's hair

Leo told you about his past before, so you were very much painfully aware of his struggles. Particularly, in the romance department.

He told you how it was. He liked girls, they never liked him back. Plus with how he was couch surfing, affection was practically a foreign concept to him.

Sure, his friends showed they cared but your relationship isn’t just platonic, it goes beyond that.

Today you and Leo went your separate ways as usual. The two of you met while aboard the Argo II and became close.

Things are constantly a hassle while aboard, everything that could go wrong goes wrong and there was no thing such as luck while aboard navigating the ancient lands.

Luckily, amongst all the noise you managed to find peace and quiet to rest and have some solitude.

But, you soon heard a knocking on your door and thus your long awaited nap would have to be even more long awaited.

Upon opening the door, you noticed it to be Leo.

“Leo? What’re you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be sleeping by now?” You asked this but anyone who saw him could tell he was busy doing something.

“Well I was actually working on repairs, hence the dirt” he motioned to his entire being.

You hummed “well this might be weird and if you’re too uncomfortable then go ahead and ignore but do you want me to wash your hair?.”

He was clearly taken a back, even if only slightly then quickly answered “sure, I wouldn’t mind.” It was strange to see Leo not teasing you but you just assumed it to be the tiredness and moved on.

You gently led Leo into one of the bathrooms on board by hand, the hope of not running into Coach Hedge was left unsaid.

Immediately you had him propped against the sink on the most comfortable seat you could find aboard.

As you went to get a shampoo you hear Leo’s voice echo from the bathroom “what made you want to wash my hair?”

The question was phrased in a way that’d seem sarcastic but his tone indicated genuine curiosity.

“Well, I guess I just wanted to wash it? There isn’t really a reason, Leo. I just want to do something for you in the little free time we have.” Leo didn’t say anything else.

You carried the shampoo and poured some onto your hand, you turned the water on and began running your fingers through his hair.

Slowly but surely some dirt and soot came out, not as much as you expected that’s for sure.

Leos sudden sigh brought you out of your thoughts. “What’s wrong?” You asked to be sure everything was alright.

“Nothing, I’m just enjoying this, no one’s ever washed my hair before.” You had placed a towel over his face to prevent water from getting on it, thus obscuring your view of him.

You hummed in acknowledgement and he continued “I know it’s just a simple favor but it’s just been a long time since anyone’s done anything for me ,to make me happy.”

You knew it was true. His mom was probably the last one to genuinely show him any love, that alone was sad, it had been eight years. Plus, as mentioned before, he didn’t really date. He was clearly referring to both.

You didn’t say anything and just continued washing through his hair until it the water ran clean of any bubbles.

Then, you left him alone to wash his body, he was still dirty after all.

Eventually he made his way back into your room, you noticed when the door shut with a click.

“Hey” Leo began “I hope the talk about not being able to pull didn’t upset you” he tried making light of the situation.

“It didn’t, but you don’t have to hide behind jokes either” you said this patting the space next to you in bed.

He shut the lights off and laid besides you. You laughed a bit “let’s hope coach hedge doesn’t find us like this.”

Leo also let his own laugh out and eventually you both settled. “I’m just happy you’re here with me right now.”

You smiled despite knowing there was no way for Leo to see it. You moved your hand closer to him and it found its way into Leo’s. Your fingers interlocked and you only hoped that with your fingers intertwined, that he’d get the sentiment.

No words were spoken and you both drifted off to sleep land. Eventually, your bodies found themselves snuggled up against one another.

Was there a possibility of being found out and banned from being alone? Sure but even if you did get found out you didn’t care, you just wanted Leo to feel loved.

[ncityprincess]

And don’t you forget it

Pairing: bf taeyong x single mom reader ft. asshole johnny

Plot: blah blah blah this is just fiction I don’t know these people. Johnny is not very nice in this and he may bring up some abandonment wounds so proceed with caution 🫶🏾

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Yeah sorry babe, something…came up” Johnny slurred with a dazed chuckle. Here you were, up way earlier than usual getting your 5 year old daughter ready for her day with her incompetent daddy, and he couldn’t even be bothered to give you a heads up before he cancelled. Again.

“Yeah I can see that John” you sighed, running out of the little patience you had left. You could tell he was lying in bed with whichever chick he picked up last night. “You know, being hungover on a Tuesday isn’t a good look. And neither is flaking on your daughter for the umpteenth time in a row.” You were ready to tell him off even more, but you were interrupted by a woman’s cartoonishly seductive voice.

“Johnnyyy baby, come play with me again.” A woman with a thin sheet wrapped around her body came into the frame and leaned down to press sensual kisses into Johnny’s neck. He groaned obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. “In a minute, doll” he purred.

“Ugh, you’re such a joke. You know, Kaylee is going to kindergarten this year. She’s not dumb John, she’s gonna grow up to resent you for abandoning her like this.” Your voice kept getting louder and louder in the echoey bathroom. You had dealt with his carelessness for far too long.

“Look I’m sorry ok?” He said nonchalantly. “Let’s just try again next week. Gotta go, give Kaylee a kiss for me, will ya?”

“FUCK YOU” You shrieked, and hung up the FaceTime call before slamming your phone onto the bathroom counter. You could feel the hot tears forming in your eyes already. Once again, your child’s father had made all these extravagant plans for your daughter, just for him to not follow through.

A faint knock on the en-suite bathroom door made the shame of the situation set in even more for you. You took a deep breath and let out a defeated “come in.” It was Taeyong, your current boyfriend and first relationship after having your daughter and separating from Johnny.

Even in your state of frustration, you were able to admire how beautiful he looked with his messy bed head and navy blue boxers hanging dangerously low on his lean hips.

Your relationship with johnny all came to a head when he had made the final screw up that made you gain the courage to break up with him. He missed Kaylee’s 3rd birthday party because he was out doing his usual routine of getting hammered, and ended up getting into a bar fight for one reason or another. he had to spend the rest of the night sobering up at the local jailhouse, thus missing his baby girl blow out her candles.

After spending the better part of a year beating yourself up over your break up and blaming yourself for Kaylee not having a good father in her life, you decided enough was enough. Johnny needed to figure his own shit out, and do his own healing. His demons have nothing to do with you or your daughter, and it wasn’t your job to fix him. You made the decision to try the co-parenting thing, but it was easier said than done.

On one spring day, Taeyong had approached you at a cafe to tell you how beautiful you looked in your yellow dress. You couldn’t even look him in the eye, too embarrassed to receive such a compliment. It was the first time you had actually felt seen that way in a while. From there, your relationship flowed like water. Everything just came naturally for the two of you. Kaylee absolutely adored Taeyong, and he loved to spend quality time with her. He would take the three of you to see the latest Disney movie, go to the water park, and treat you to ice cream dates. Everything just felt. Natural.

But of course, the great co-parenting dilemma always lingered.

“Hey” he greeted with a softly with a small, gentle smile.

“I hate him Tae. I hate him so much!” By now the dam had broke, and the tears started flowing. Taeyong immediately embraced you and rubbed your back soothingly.

“My love…” he cooed, but let you continue.

“Why does he get to keep doing this to us? To her? He—he doesn’t even care that he’s hurting Kaylee. And once again, I’m left to break the news that her father doesn’t want to see her.” You sobbed.

This song and dance of johnny attempting to be a father had gone on for far too long. When you were pregnant, you were convinced the three of you were going to be a happy little family forever, but once Kaylee was born, Johnny had changed. A lot. He partied till 4 am, came home plastered, and did the same thing all over again the next day. You were the only one getting up at all hours of the night to feed your daughter and change her. You were cooking all the meals and cleaning the house. You were there to pick up the pieces when Johnny messed things up. You felt like a single parent in your own home. After three years of failing to be a good father to Kaylee, you made the decision to break up with him and asked him to move out of your house.

“He’s a coward. Any man that can’t take responsibility for their child is immature and selfish. We’ll figure this out together baby.” Taeyong held you for a few more moments and pulled away to cradle your face in his warm hands. You looked up at him through tear-stained lashes. His eyes held so much sincerity and reassurance.

“The day doesn’t have to be totally ruined. How about the three of us go to the Zoo! They just opened up that new butterfly exhibit, those are Kaylee’s favorites.”

You sniffled, making taeyong’s heart swell. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” He said softly. Taeyong wiped the last few straggler tears that were left on your cheeks. “You’re too good to me, Tae” you whined. “Nonsense, nothings to good for you, my love. As long as I’m around, you and Kaylee’s happiness are my top priority.”

He leaned down to press a soft kiss against your lips. Taeyong’s kindness was one of the things that drew you to him the most. He was so selfless and never made you feel bad about being a single parent. The overwhelming love you had for him made you fall deeper into the kiss. You wanted to forget all about this situation with your ex.

After a few moments of passionate kissing, taeyong gently grabbed your hand and guided you back into the main bedroom. He stopped right in front of your full length mirror. Taeyong stepped behind you and ran his hands up and down your sides. “Look love, look at yourself in the mirror. Aren’t you so beautiful?” He whispered into your ear.

You cast your timid gaze into your own reflection, noting taeyong’s hungry eyes staring into yours through the mirror. You could feel the front of his body pressed against your ass. You felt yourself getting damp at the sensation of taeyong’s morning wood. You quickly looked down at your feet, the intimate sight in front of you was too much to handle. “Tae come on…”

“Ah ah ah, say you’re pretty. Tell me how pretty you are.” he raised your head back up with gentle fingers and looked down at you. He pressed slow, intentional kisses into your neck, making your eyes roll back.

“I’m—I’m pretty” you finally breathed out.

“Yes *kiss* you *kiss* are *kiss*”

Your legs felt like jelly. If it wasn’t for taeyong’s strong arms wrapped around you, you surely would have melted onto the floor. His one hand snaked up the front of your body, past your tank top covered breasts and settled around your neck. His piercing eyes met yours in the mirror once again “and don’t you forget it.”

Taeyong pulled your tank top off of your body, cursing when he saw your bare breasts. He played with your nipples, admiring the way your ass started to grind against his stiff dick.

“Mmm, I want you” You moaned out. Taeyong guided you onto the bed and laid you on your back. “I’m all yours, my love.” He pulled off both of your bottoms and stroked himself a few times. You both moaned once he finally entered you. The delicious stretch of his cock got rid of whatever lingering thoughts of johnny you had in your mind.

Taeyong wrapped your legs around his hips and picked up the pace. He caressed the side of your face, smiling down at you. “You feel so good baby” he grunted. You loved how gentle and sweet he was being, but you needed something a little different in this moment.

“Tae…pound me, please?” You begged. Taeyong slowed his movements and a smirk grew on his face. “Anything for you, my love”. Before you knew it, you were flipped over and placed on all fours. Taeyong slammed back inside of you, making you cry out.

“Fuckkkk just like that!” You grabbed onto your headboard for dear life, partially to stop it from banging against the wall. Kaylee was only a few doors down.

Taeyong let out a guttural groan, loving the way your walls squeezed his dick. He had a vice grip on your hips, pounding his lower body into yours. “Shit, feels so good baby. You’re so wet.” Your arousal was dripping all over your thighs and his dick, making it nice and easy for Taeyong to piston in and out of you. The obscene noises of pleasure and skin on skin caught up to you, and you were ready to burst any second now.

“Baby I’m gonna cum” you whined, toes curling in preparation for your orgasm. Taeyong reached around to play with your clit, rubbing it in small, tight circles. You couldn’t hold on anymore, and allowed your high to wash over you.

“Oh good girl, I’m right behind you baby” Taeyong praised. He sloppily thrusted into you a few more times before blowing his load inside of you. You whined at the overstimulating feeling, enjoying the sound of taeyong riding out his own high.

He finally pulled out of you, and you both collapsed onto the bed side by side. You caught your breath, and turned to face him. He was already staring at you with sleepy, satisfied eyes. “I love you Tae, thank you. For everything.”

Taeyong caressed your hip. “I love you more baby. Now, let’s go see where Kaylee wants to eat for breakfast before we go to the zoo!”

The end ❤️

[awitcheress]

So I've been watching way too many cooking shows on Facebook and Instagram lately..

Geraskier modern AU - non magical. Part 1.

Geralt is homeless and has been for most of his life. Jaskier is not. In fact, his family is filthy rich. But they don't approve of what he wants in life which is to be a Michelin star gourmet chef. He's been cooking his entire life because when he was a kid, his parents pretty much made sure he studied, but apart from that they didn't care much. (Very original premise, I know... Lol.)

But the one person who did care for him was the chef of the household. An elderly man who lost his son and wife, when the son was only a small child, so Jaskier and the chef find each other immediately and form a strong bond. Even as a very young boy, Jaskier shows much talent in cooking.

Then, when Jaskier turns eighteen, Chef dies. Jaskier is devastated by his loss and he equates everything good and loving with food. So, he wants to go to culinary school to continue learning to become as skilled at cooking as Chef.

When his parents refuse to allow him this (Surprise!), Jaskier runs away. Unfortunately, he has no way to survive and ends up homeless and alone. For long, miserable weeks, he starves and suffers cold weather, nowhere to feel safe, no one to trust.

Sometimes he even considers returning to Lettenhove...

One day, late at night, he is cornered by a big, muscular man, who beats him up and tries to rape him. It's too dark for Jaskier to see what the man looks like. There have been instances of rape/murders all over Novigrad. Jaskier is convinced he is going to die, when two other men appear and chase Jaskier's attackers away.

Jaskier is profoundly grateful to these two men who introduce themselves as Geralt and Eskel. Well, Eskel introduces them. Geralt only mumbles... (naturally)

Eskel tells Geralt to accompany Jaskier to the city watchmen. He does, but it's useless. Homeless people being raped and murdered? Just as well. It'll clean up the city streets is their attitude.

Geralt doesn't seem surprised. Regardless, Upon leaving, Jaskier chatters away with Geralt. He relies his life's story in two minutes flat 😂 as Geralt "hms" and grunts in his own inimitable way. Jaskier is not deterred. He's in love.

This gruff, tall and broad shouldered man is Jaskier's knight in...tattered old black clothing. His hair is long and the color of the palest cream, and he is absolutely breathtaking. Geralt has a voice that rumbles deep in his chest when he chooses to say something. His legs are long and powerful, his eyes like liquid honey... Geralt's arms are sinewy and strong. Oh dear, Jaskier has to stop himself from melting like ice cream left out in the sun...

Geralt helps introduce Jaskier to the people at the homeless shelter, and he's offered a bed there. Geralt leaves and, again, Jaskier is alone. The shelter is nothing like what he's used to from home, but it's eons better than the last few weeks on the street. He has a roof over his head, even if he has to share living space with others.

Thus, the loneliness is gone quite rapidly. Jaskier meets several people there, among them, Vesemir, who runs the soup kitchen. When he finds out that Jaskier likes to cook, Vesemir invites him to help.

Soon his life is changed into something so different, he feels his head spinning, and Jaskier's days are a million times better. He has access to showers, a bathroom, clean water, he's gets to eat at least once a day. And, cooking, something he loves to do so much, is actually helping others. The love is back in his life.

And then, of course, there's Geralt. Speaking to him, and listening to others, Jaskier learns that Geralt, despite his gruff nature, is a good man who patrols the streets with his brothers, Eskel and Lambert. They're trying to help keep the homeless safe, but there are so many of them...

Several young, homeless, slender and pretty men, like Jaskier, are raped and murdered. Jaskier's description of the man who attacked him is shaky at best... "Big and strong" fits even Geralt and his brothers. The only one who wasn't there is Lambert, who is a bit of a prick.

Geralt and Jaskier over time becomes friends if a sort but Geralt is not responding to Jaskier's attempts at flirting.

A year goes by, and one day, Geralt finds Jaskier in the kitchen with big news....

[innominaterifter]

A little about my ADHD running practices

I have ADHD and autism, ADHD predominates (or so, I think at the moment). The symptoms of ADHD and how it manifests itself in life is a broad topic, but in this post I will focus on one thing: about a specific practice that helps me do things that I otherwise wouldn’t be able to do.

This practice is definitely not a solution for every matter and every person, but with something specific it works great for me.

So, you have the complexity of doing something, and this complexity is not monolithic. It consists of the difficulty of starting, the difficulty of continuing, and the difficulty of finishing.

Why do I divide it into these stages?

First

For different people, the complexity of these stages may vary: for some it is difficult to start, but it is much easier to continue, for some it is difficult to continue, but in principle it is not difficult to start, and so on.

Moreover, the complexity of the stages for different cases may be different.

An example:

It’s quite difficult for me to get myself into the shower or the bathroom or to swimming practice. But if I’m already there, if I’m already interacting with water, then I can be in this process for a very long time. So much so that it becomes difficult to complete.

Thus, if you evaluate the complexity of the stages on a three-point scale, then for me to start is 3 points, to continue is 0 points, and to complete is 1 or 2 points. External circumstances help me with the completion: the hot water in the boiler runs out sooner or later, and lying in a cooling bathtub is not so fun; during swimming training I get tired or training time ends. The external limiter here serves as a helping element.

With other things, the distribution of stage complexity may be different. And if I know how the complexity is distributed, which stages of a particular task are the most difficult for me, and which do not require the expenditure of willpower, then it is easier for me to plan tactics.

If I know that the continuation stage is not difficult for me, I can plan a larger amount of work for this stage. If I know that in this particular case the continuation stage is gaining high difficulty scores for me, then I will not plan too much work there in advance.

For example, with everything related to water, the most difficult thing for me is to begin with, then there are no problems, because I really like the interaction with water. Thus, the main task becomes to lure myself into the process, to create such conditions and expectations that I would like to start it. The realization that the process will continue on its own and you don’t need to spend any resources on it makes it easier to start.

Thus, dividing into stages allows you to approach the task more structurally, distribute resources more competently and - most importantly - see the upcoming task as something composite and completely doable, and not as a monolithic peak of Overcoming.

Second

Dividing into stages with an understanding of the complexity of a specific stage of a specific task specifically for yourself allows you to praise yourself for the stages completed, even if the task itself was not fully completed.

An example:

If you think of running training as a monolithic task that sounds like “run for an hour,” then if you do not run for an hour—for whatever reason—then you feel like a failure. And any running training that ends in less than an hour gives you a feeling of frustration, a feeling of “I failed”.

But you haven't really failed.

You started this training - this is usually the most difficult thing; you ran for some time - and this also needs to be counted towards your completed things. Actually, you're great. You have done certain things that are difficult for you. Praise yourself, you deserve it.

Dividing into stages helps you better notice what you have succeeded in. Division into stages helps to get away from the catastrophizing “if you didn’t complete some part, you failed in everything” and move on to the more sensible “you didn’t complete some specific stage but completed others.”

To be honest, I have certain difficulties with running. Unlike swimming, it's not something that brings me pleasure in the process, all the time. At least for now. I hope this will change but at the moment this is the situation.

For running training, it’s not enough for me to just start, and then everything will go by itself, like in swimming. For a running workout, the difficulty of continuing is higher for me than the difficulty of starting.

At the same time, I really want to run, I like this feeling of flying, dynamic movement in the surrounding space, when I manage to catch it (if I didn’t like the idea of running or didn’t consider it useful for myself, then I simply wouldn’t do it).

So, unlike swimming workouts, my running workouts look completely different. It was much more difficult for me to start them because I knew that the stage "continuing" would be even more difficult than the stage "starting." And thus it launching a self-propelling attractor: you know that further it will be more difficult for you than at the beginning, so it becomes more difficult to start.

When I began to count as a plus the completion of at least one specific stage - or partial completion - then everything became easier. I went to running training and ran 500 m, and I don’t have the strength to continue? Okay, you basically went out to train and ran this distance. Well done! How about we just walk for the rest of the time? You don't have to run, just walk at a brisk pace. Although look, if you take this turn at a decent speed, there will be a cool feeling of centrifugal force - shall we try it? Doing the task in this format really made a difference for me. This allowed me to concentrate more on what was done rather than on what was not done.

This, in turn, made it possible to create spirals of positive reinforcement that helped start the next workout a little easier (or it allows you to blame yourself less if you missed a workout or didn’t complete it to the extent you planned).

I’ll tell you about how I use cosplay practices for ADHD in the next post.

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Amaryllis

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary:(Modern AU) Benedict surprises you after the final performance of your debut play. Congratulations are in order and he has some ideas on how you can take your final bow.

Warnings: 18 + Please, Rough Sex, Oral, Praise Kink, Adult Language and Concepts

Word Count: 3.2K

Author’s Note: Thank you to my wonderful mutuals @bridgertontess and @colettebronte for helping me piece this all together. You two are rock stars!

____________________________________

You would never tire of this feeling. The electricity that coursed throughout your body and lit you up from the inside out was more addicting than any drug you’ve gotten your hands on thus far. Public performance was the ultimate exercise in risk and reward. The risk - exposure to ridicule. The reward - praise beyond measure.

As you made your way backstage to your dressing room for the final time, you bathed in the applause still ringing in your ears. The six week run of your debut play had finally come to a close and you planned to absorb every last drop of euphoria. This could be your last chance to experience it, work was never promised.

Opening the door to your private space, you came face to face with the only thing more intoxicating than the current high you were riding - Benedict Bridgerton. He was mouth watering, clad in black from head to toe. The knit material of his sweater clung to his broad shoulders for dear life, perfectly accentuating the strength that lay hidden beneath. His slow, seductive smile sent your pulse thrumming in your ears as he stood to greet you.

“There she is,” he purred. 

“Ben,” your voice was embarrassingly breathy. “You came… I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight. When did you get back in town?”

Leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek, he whispered, “Of course I came. I wouldn’t miss your final bow. I caught a flight from London this morning.”

You could barely contain the shiver that rolled over your body at his proximity. This man was a unique form of danger. Staggering good looks aside, he had a singular ability to mute your inhibitions. When you were with him, you always found yourself operating on the base instincts of pure desire. His influence was boundaryless. Whether that desire was to indulge a midnight craving for chocolate cake, or to have his head squeezed between your thighs in the bathroom at your friend’s house warming party, he was always your Yes Man, rarely allowing you to deny yourself the things that would bring you pleasure.

Telling yourself yes more often was changing you. You had discovered an exhilarating braveness that could easily be traced back to a handsome stranger at an art gallery three months ago.

Three months! Had it really only been that long? He already felt so familiar, essential even. Yet, you had no real ties to one another. He was nomadic and free, breezing in and out of your life regularly. But somehow, he always seemed to find you in moments that mattered - moments that had you standing on the precipice of something big. He never pushed or manipulated, he simply just observed you with a level of wonder in his eyes that fueled your ego. His expectant gaze seductively stroked your confidence in a way that was only rivaled by how his fingers stroked… other parts of you. He was unapologetically himself, and when in his presence, you seemed to silently grant yourself permission to do the same. Eventually, you learned to do that even when he wasn’t around. That’s how you ended up on the stage tonight. You told yourself yes, believed you could do it, and tried. Imagine that, actually making an attempt at something gets you a lot closer than standing still. Who would have guessed?

Looking up into his gorgeous face, you smiled shamelessly. “Remind me to thank your manager for always scheduling your art shows with impeccable timing. How long will you be in town?”

His eyes scanned over you with a hunger that made your mouth go dry. “Just for tonight…”

Disappointment started to bloom in your chest until the meaning of his words took root. “Wait, you flew all the way from London just for this? Ben, that’s crazy. Why would you do that?”

He shrugged, effectively dismissing your concern. “Because I wanted to. Because I can. And because,” he lifted a fragrant bouquet into your eye line, “I had to bring you these.”

You recognized the deep red petals immediately. You had seen their likeness scattered through many of his paintings. “Thank you, Ben. They’re beautiful. Now I understand why you paint them so often. What are they?”

“They’re called Amaryllis,” he smirked. “For artists, they’re said to stimulate the creative muse and celebrate your hard won success. Since you are now both an artist, and a muse, I thought it only fitting.”

Heat pooled in your stomach at his words. “I’d hardly call myself an artist. It was one play.”

“I strongly disagree,” he protested. “Art affects the viewer, and watching you wield your craft up there tonight… Well, it certainly moved me.”

His thinly veiled innuendo was driven home by the downright wicked smile that spread across his face. You had no choice but to join him in his debauchery.

Placing the flowers on the vanity table, you stepped in closer to him. His chest was broad and tempting, begging to be touched. Your palms splayed out over the defined pectoral muscles in front of you and you sighed with satisfaction. The heat from his skin was radiating through the knit material of his black sweater and soaking into your fingertips. Through batted lashes you asked, “Do you like watching me, Benedict?”

Voice husky, he replied, “Like is a bit of an understatement. You’re very… titillating.”

The giggles escaped before you could stop them. “Titillating - is that so? What was your favorite part?”

The playful way his eyebrow quirked made your legs weak. “Do you want the serious answer or the fun answer?”

You wanted to keep playing but you were curious. “Why not both? I’m feeling greedy.”

His pupils expanded slightly on your last word. “Noted. And I am feeling eager to please.” 

You were definitely going to be in trouble when the talking stopped. “My favorite part is seeing how much you’ve improved over the weeks. You found your stride. You looked comfortable - confident. I got lost in you.”

“You could tell all that by seeing one show? Was it that obvious that I was going to be terrible starting out?”

He smiled sheepishly. “This was actually my third time.”

“You’ve seen this three times and never said anything?” 

Again, he shrugged. “I wanted to watch anonymously. I wanted to see you in your element without the added pressure. Normally, I love the fact that I make you nervous. You get all flushed and twitchy. But for this, I wanted the raw version of you.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered that you came or creeped out that I had a stalker.”

“Why not both,” he smirked.

“Speaking of,” you reminded him. “What’s the fun answer?”

He stepped closer, pushing the back of your legs against the vanity table. “I liked watching you seduce that poor bastard that played opposite you. He’ll be thinking about  the way your body moves for months after that performance.”

Pushing your chest into his, you asked, “You liked the way my body pressed against him like this?”

“Mmhmm,” he sighed.

“What else did you like, Ben?”

“I loved the obscene amount of attraction. You could almost smell it. He’s beautiful, you’re beautiful. I wanted to see more. I wanted a better view of your mouth devouring him. I wanted to be close enough to hear the exertion in your breaths. I was jealous of the pleasure on his face when you slid your tongue up his neck. You’re fucking lethal with that thing.”

“You liked seeing me with another man in my mouth?”

“So much,” he whispered against your neck before lightly biting your skin. “What’s it feel like?”

You gasped at the feel of his teeth. It was getting harder to hold a conversation. “What, to have someone watching?”

“No,” he chuckled. With your chests still firmly pressed together you could feel the vibration of his laughter clear to your toes. “I know what that feels like. What does it feel like to kiss a man? Describe it to me.”

Tilting your head back, you searched his face. His expression was how it always was - curious. As if he were thinking of trying it himself but wanted to know your experience first.

“It’s… it’s thrilling. I’m sure it depends on the man, but the best kisses… You feel held, secure. Like you’re leaning against an immovable force. You can feel the power in their bodies humming against your senses. But even though you know that power and strength is there, you can feel them restraining it for you. You can feel them considering you. I don’t know about other women, but that unleashes something in me. It makes me feel like they’re lending me some of that power. Like I’m absorbing it through my lips. Their restraint makes me feel like I don’t have to have any of my own. I don’t have to be soft all the time because I know they can handle it. But I think my favorite part is when they give in a little on that self control. The sounds they make are deep and primal. The force they use mixes pain with pleasure. The way they smell, the way they taste. The way your mouth feels swollen and bruised when it’s over. The scratches on your skin from stubble.”

You took one of his hands in yours and started to play with his fingers. “And sometimes the sheer size of them is exhilarating. The right man can make you feel empowered and overpowered all at once.”

His pupils were blown wide as he hung on your every word. You could hear his breathing getting heavier. The hard, steely length of him pressed into your thigh was enough to flood you.

You dropped your hand between you to cup him. “Is this for the man you’re thinking of, or is it me?”

There was a sharp intake of breath when your fingers curled a little tighter over the fabric of his pants. Without missing a beat, he tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned down for his confession. “Why not both?”

A myriad of images flashed through your brain. What kind of man would he choose? Your daydream must have been written on your face because when you met his gaze again his eyes had darkened to the point of no return. “Does that arouse you, y/n? Does the thought of me with a man get you wet and needy?” His hand reached under the hem of your dress and started to delicately trace up the inside of your thigh. Long, graceful fingers curled into the front of your panties and found you just as he suspected.

“Mmm,” he hummed in appreciation. “That’s a definite yes. I’ll keep that in mind for future fun, but right now it’s just you and me. And that’s more than fucking enough.”

His fingers started to glide through your wetness, collecting your arousal and bringing it up to rub circles around your pulsing clit. You clutched his forearms for purchase, riding his hand to within an inch of climax, but you stopped yourself. Not yet. 

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you pulled him from your body and dropped to your knees in front of him. You needed to feel him in your throat, to taste the saltiness of his skin. You needed to feel his hands tangled roughly in your hair, holding you down on himself until you were gasping for air.

He looked down at you with adoring admiration as you began unbuttoning his pants to set him free. He left you to your work, only moving to step out of his pants as they hit the ground. His body was fucking perfect and you were dying to get your hands on him.

He hissed in pleasure when your thumb swept over his tip, collecting the small bead of arousal and bringing it to your mouth to suck it off. God, you missed that taste. It was enough to send a fresh wave of desire dripping between your thighs. 

Standing on your knees a little taller, you hovered over him, letting your saliva drip down to coat him before you took him into your hand. “Fucking hell,” he exclaimed, throwing his head back.

Your lips turned up in triumph. This was always your favorite part. Sure, letting him coax your body into ecstasy was amazing, but this… Watching the effect you had on him. It was a power trip. 

Breaking his gaze, you closed your eyes and took him into your mouth. There really was nothing like the taste of him. You wanted more. Taking him deeper, the smooth skin of his cock glided effortlessly between your lips. You were moaning around him, enjoying every second of contact.

You only stopped your descent when you felt his fingers under your chin directing your focus back to his face. “You look so pretty on your knees for me. And you fucking love it, don’t you?” He growled at your garbled response. “That’s what I thought. Even with your mouth full you’re looking at me like you’re starving.”

Even though you were bowed in front of him, it was you who felt worshiped. His affirmations spurred you on, inciting a desperate need to please him. Relaxing into it, you slid down the rest of his length until he was resting securely at the back of your throat. But this time you never took your eyes off of his. He wanted you to watch him watch you.

You took a deep breath before you started again. Both of your hands grasped the backs of his muscular thighs for balance in an effort to support your enthusiastic movements. Your tongue stroked him mercilessly with each bob of your head leaving both of you a sloppy, wet mess. You willed yourself to hold on as long as possible when he hit the back of your throat again. Gagging around him, you nuzzled your nose into the dark hair surrounding his perfect cock. 

You felt the expanse of his large hand cup the back of your head, pushing himself in even deeper. “Sh-shit,” he stuttered. “How are you so good at that? Don’t stop.”

Your nipples pebbled at the sound of his moans and you were suddenly aware of how cage-like your dress felt. There was too much separating your skin from his.

Letting go of his leg, you brought a hand down to play with yourself beneath your dress. You were almost painfully aroused, and were desperate for even the smallest sense of relief. 

Benedict’s eyes tracked your movements hungrily but your concealment tortured him. Before you knew what was happening, you felt yourself being hoisted from the ground and crushed in a dizzying kiss. Nimble fingers made quick work of the zipper at your back, and in seconds you were standing there in nothing but your black lace panties.

His lips kissed roughly across your throat and down your sternum before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. The sensation was unreal, and you arched into him needing more. 

With a firm grip on your hips, he spun you around and bent you over the vanity, placing your palms flat against the cool, wood surface for purchase. Your arms shook with anticipation when you caught his gaze in the mirror.

His mouth caressed down your spine, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You lost sight of him when he dipped below your waist but you could feel him there. The heat from his breath lingered on your skin. A gentle nudge on the inside of your knee hinted at his next request.

“Open your legs a little wider for me, darling.” You obeyed him immediately and he handed out his approval generously. “That’s my good girl. Always does what she’s told.”

The tone of his voice had your pussy clenching with need. His body read yours fluently and he was already moving to satisfy you. His thumbs hooked into the material of your underwear and rolled them down your legs.

You went to step free from them but he tutted his disapproval. “No, no, no baby. Leave those around your ankles.”

Again, you followed orders and waited for his next command.

His lips kissed each rounded cheek before two strong hands spread you open to him. “Fuck, look at you. So gorgeous and ready. You smell like heaven.” With one obscene motion, he licked from your pulsing entrance all the way up between your parted cheeks to place another soft kiss at the base of your spine. “You taste even better.”

Your legs were starting to get weak. “Benedict, please…”

“What do you want, y/n? Do you want my tongue? My fingers?” His thumb pushed slightly past the threshold of your aching heat but then stopped. “Or is there something else you want more?”

Every option presented was enticing but you knew what you needed. “I feel empty, Ben. I need you inside me.”

“Is this what you want?” You felt the tip of his cock align with your drenched opening. You moaned your approval but it wasn’t enough. “Yes or no? Say it.”

“Yes,” you pleaded. 

He pushed into you torturously slowly, groaning when you had taken all of him. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. You feel so good. Nice and wet for me, as always.”

“Benedict,” you whimpered.

You could hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “How do you want it?”

“Fuck me, Ben. Make it hurt.”

He pulled out of you before slamming back in with so much force that it lifted you to the tips of your toes.You screamed out in ecstasy. “You like that? Is that how you need me today?”

“Faster, Ben. Don’t stop.”

Your command unleashed him.One hand braced your shoulder while the other dug into your hip. His thrusts were hard and deep, moving at a pace that made it hard for you to catch your breath.

Your arms finally gave out and you let him ease your face to the vanity. His hand left your shoulder to wind your hair around his wrist. The cup of makeup brushes was knocked to the floor, scattering them at your feet. Your knuckles turned white as you clutched the edge of the table for dear life. 

Something was building inside you. Something bigger than you, and slightly terrifying. There was no stopping it. You were hurtling toward an oblivion that was outside of your control.

You tipped over the edge when his teeth nipped into the skin at your shoulder. You tried to scream but there was no air. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t hear. You didn’t exist inside your flesh any longer.

“Oohhhh,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. Shiiiit!”

You felt the material of his sweater on your bare back when he collapsed on top of you. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he was still wearing it until now. 

He went to lift himself but you stopped him. “Don’t move yet. You feel so good.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed. “If I had it my way, I’d be inside you until I got on the plane tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we’d make it through security like this,” you joked.

“Worst case scenario, we get detained and I have to stay a bit longer.”

“Tempting,” you quipped.

“Yes…” his lips brushed against your neck. “... you are.”

_________________________________________

@faye-tale @queenofmean14 @eleanor-bradstreet @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys​

[dalchiid]

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 43

A story of obsession, fear, and lust. You're a maid whose Masters forbid you in meeting their guests for the night but your luck runs dry when you run into them and catch the attention of Lord Hoseok himself. He's smitten from the beginning and thus, your fate has been decided.

Pairing: Yandere Vampire Hoseok x Fem/AFAB Reader

Word Count: 8,547

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Possessive, Angst, Fear, Blood, Biting, Dub-Con, Eventual smut

Will add or remove warnings based on what's in each chapter.

I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.

DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.

Chapter 43 Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Drama, Stress, So Much Stress, Mentions of Abortion

Prev | Next

It's like lightning has struck you because you're ramrod straight and your nerves begin to tingle. You're too stiff to want to move but you know you have to.

"Minjeong," you say breathlessly and she nods. "Are you - you're the one that managed to escape."

Realization dawns upon her. "So wait. You do know about me?"

You nod your head. "I do I just didn't know your name." Your voice starts to raise in excitement.

She has to shush you gently with a finger to her lips. "Keep quiet. I don't want him to hear us."

"Oh," you say. "You're right. Right."

"Wait," she says.

She brings a finger up before walking over to the sinks and turning each of them on. The sound of rushing water fills the air and you know what she's trying to do.

Hoseok can easily tune in to hear this conversation if he wanted to. It's why she locked the bathroom door. Why she has the sinks running. To help give you some time just in case.

Your heart begins to race in nervousness. Gods this was really happening. What was the chance that this would happen to you? That you would run into Hoseok's ex. Is... is this why Hoseok was acting weird? Did he sense Minjeong?

"Do you smell it?" Taehyung asked.

Did they smell her? No doubt they'll be able to sniff her out and find her in here with you. Gods your nervous.

"Why? How?" You can barely formulate your sentences.

Minjeong comes back over to you and she looks just as nervous as you. "I-I'm here with a cousin of mine and I saw Hoseok before I could actually smell him. I overheard you saying you needed to go to the bathroom and I ran into the nearest one hoping you'd come in here." She smiles. "I was right to choose this one."

You frown. "Don't you have a restraining order on Hoseok? Why would you come here if that's the case?"

"It's... it's complicated," she says. "Trust me. If I would have known Hoseok was here I wouldn't have come here."

It still doesn't make sense to you. You would have suspected that she'd stay as far away from Hoseok's home and everything near it, but you won't question it further.

"If Hoseok finds you in here with me-"

"I know. I know." Minjeong says. "That's why I have little time with you and I want to get this out before he comes banging on the door." She drops her hands from your arms. "You know you're not safe with him, right?"

You nod your head.

Of course you know. Maybe in the beginning you didn't but now you do.

"You have the chance to leave now if you want. You're in the public eye. All you need to do is yell for help and it will come to you."

Your brows furrow the slightest bit. "It's not that easy."

"What's stopping you?"

What's stopping you? So much.

"My money. My sanity." You shake your head. "Everything I have is in his house." Namjoon.

Minjeong shakes her head. "If you don't make the move to leave now who's to say you'll ever have the chance to again?" She pauses. "Do you have any allies in the house?"

You nod your head. "Namjoon. Yoongi."

"Namjoon?" She sends a look of both disbelief and disgust your way. "There's no way Namjoon is an ally."

You look taken aback by her response. "Why wouldn't he be? Did you have any allies?"

She licks her lips in nervousness. "You just can't trust Namjoon. As for allies I had Yoongi. He's the reason why I was able to get out of that house in the first place. Hoseok doesn't know but he doesn't need to."

Yoongi helped her escape? You don't know why but you're shocked. Despite being so kind to you you thought the vampire mostly kept to himself. You didn't think any of the brothers would actually go against one another like this. Would Yoongi help you too or was this a one time thing? And what's her deal with Namjoon?

"I trust Namjoon with my life."

A sharp tsk comes from Minjeong. "Don't let him get into your head. He pretends to be a friend only to stab you in the back when you need him the most."

That didn't sound like your Namjoon.

Who are you to believe at this point? The man you've grown to love or a stranger whose only tie you have with them is through an obsessive man?

You step back from her a little - your defensive walls beginning to come up.

"Y/N." Minjeong grabs your attention that slipped from her grasp. "Don't let this opportunity pass you by."

There's a knock on the bathroom door that makes your heart nearly stop.

"Is it locked?" You faintly hear from the other side of the door. It's probably someone who also wants to use the bathroom.

There's a moment of silence before the door is pushed roughly but because of the lock it doesn't go very far.

"Y/N?" It's Hoseok.

You and Minjeong look at one another.

"This is your chance," she says. "I could help you."

She could but for some reason you shake your head.

"Y/N!" The door rattles harder to the point that the hinges squeak.

"Don't go back to him."

Your eyes begin to water the longer they remain open. Hoseok calls to you again but so does Minjeong. Your breathing picks up a pace as your hands begin to shake.

What are you doing? Why can't you run?

"Y/N?"

You can't tell who's calling to you. All you know is that you move from your spot to unlock the door and move out of the way as it swings open.

You see a gathering of people just behind Hoseok who looks at you furiously before worry overtakes his features. You step past him and towards Taehyung who grabs you by the shoulders and looks you over.

"Hey," he says. "Hey are you okay? Why are you crying?"

Wait. Why are you crying?

"Y/N."

Someone calls for you and when you turn around you see that it's Minjeong who looks at you in worry. Her hand is outstretched towards you but you can't take it.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Taehyung snaps.

"Y/N." Minjeong tries again.

Your view of her is blocked by Hoseok who covers you behind him.

"I knew I smelled you," he says.

Your heart beats painfully against your chest with every breath you take. Are you... are you about to have a panic attack?

"Step aside, Hoseok." Minjeong sounds so strong. Like she doesn't fear the man before you.

"What the hell is it that you want?"

"You can't keep holding her hostage. Not again. Not like me."

Murmurs sound out throughout the crowd that begins to swarm around you. You can hear some of the questions. What's going on? What is she talking about?

"This bullshit again?" Hoseok curses.

"This isn't bullshit, Hoseok. You know what you did and what you're doing to Y/N now."

"You don't even know her! Stop talking about her like you do."

Minjeong scoffs. "I'm not an idiot, Hoseok. You never changed. Tell me you aren't holding her hostage like you did me!"

"How about you tell us why you're here?" Taehyung bellows. "Last I checked you don't live around here."

"She said she was here with a cousin," you mumble.

"Minjeong doesn't have any cousins."

You freeze at Jungkook's response. "What?" You push Hoseok to the side to stare at his ex. "Minjeong?"

Her eyes are wide as she stutters a response. "S-Stay out of this, Jungkook."

"Don't tell my brother what to do." Taehyung bites back.

You feel like things are getting out of control. Why did Minjeong lie to you? What else could she have lied about? You know she escaped Hoseok - did Yoongi really help her? And the animosity she holds towards Namjoon. Why did she say those things about him?

"Why are you here, Minjeong?" Hoseok questions.

She bites her lip nervously before looking at the small crowd that has gathered to stare. Immediately she points towards Hoseok and yells in a shaky voice.

"Your Lord is not who he seems! He's holding this woman hostage! He did the same with me years ago. Don't trust him!"

Your heart feels like it's ready to burst free from your chest. Minjeong is doing what you're too much of a coward to do. She's pleading for help while you stand by with your lips sealed.

What should you do? Go along with her or stand by in silence?

The crowd around you grows larger until security gets involved and that's when you move. You're about to cross the space between you and Minjeong but Hoseok grabs your wrist tightly. You look up at him as he looks down at you. You watch the way his lips move in silence to tell you "Don't make me do it."

Don't make him do it. It takes you a moment to guess what he means by that but when it hits you it hits you hard. Don't make him control your mind. He promised he wouldn't control your mind again and he's trying his best not to now. If you so much as step out of line right now Hoseok can and will force you to stay with him. He's giving you an option right now. Something he's never given to you before. Now, will you go along with him or not?

There's a bit of a scuffle going on between Minjeong and an officer that grips her arm. She threatens to have him investigated if he hurts her but he pays her no mind. As for you, an officer approaches both you and Hoseok with a hand raised.

"My Lord I think it's best if you all come with me. There are some things we need to clear up here."

Despite looking upset Hoseok nods before bringing his hands up to your shoulders where he holds on to you tightly.

"I guess so," he says.

You follow after the guard as Hoseok walks close behind you - never missing the chance to hold you close to him. Minjeong is loud as she's being dragged away. She's dragging Hoseok's name through the mud while Hoseok himself remains silent by your side. Jungkook and Taehyung follow behind you all and you chalk up the calm feeling you you feel up to the latter who's doing his best to keep himself calm as well.

As you're walking Hoseok slips his hand into yours. When you look up at him you see that he has a cool front on. He doesn't seem concerned but when you squeeze his hand he looks down at you and gives you a smile. One that barely reaches his eyes.

"It's going to be okay," he says.

You don't know if he's telling you that or himself.

You all reach an office with security personale that move out of the way when they realize who is with the entourage. They bow in Hoseok's and his brothers' presence and eye the way your hands are laced together. Minjeong has stopped fighting but she yanks her arms away from the security holding her. Despite trying to put up a brave front she does look nervous. Her eyes shift around the room and down to you and Hoseok who stay close by each other. The sight of you two holding hands makes her brows furrow but before she can look into your eyes one of the security officers speaks up.

"Sorry to drag you guys away but a scene was being made and we can't have that here."

"No of course." Hoseok says. "We understand that."

The security officer clasps his hands together as he looks over you all. "Do you mind explaining what the problem was?"

Immediately Minjeong snaps. She points a finger at Hoseok and says "It's because of him. He's holding that woman hostage."

Everyone looks over to you and sees the way Hoseok releases your hand so he can wrap his arm around you to keep you close.

"This woman? Right here?" The security officer points you out.

Minjeong nods her head but you can see the officers aren't convinced.

"Just ask her and you will see."

All the attention is drawn towards you now.

You look around nervously and shake beneath their stares. You're growing nervous and Taehyung has decided to make no effort to calm you down. You're afraid to look his way because you imagine he must be staring you down. Waiting for you to slip up and give him a reason to hate you. Is Jungkook expecting the same or is he just as disinterested as usual. Hoseok, when you look up at him, he just smiles at you.

"Go ahead, baby. Tell them," he says.

He's expecting you to lie. He clearly has a lot of confidence in you to not speak the truth. Is it out of delusion or blind trust? Either way, you're growing more and more nervous.

If you speak the truth what would happen to you? It's not like you have a place to go without your money. You left everything back at Hoseok's. You doubt Minjeong would take you in. You two don't know each other like that. You don't even think you'd feel comfortable staying with her. Then there's Namjoon. You have some questions for him. Even Yoongi but if you leave now you'll never get them.

Without the answered questions it still stands that you have no where to go. Even with the money and that reality is settling in hard for you.

That stomach ache from earlier is starting to come back and it leaves you feeling nauseous.

"Y/N?"

You look over to Minjeong who gives you a look of desperation but your answer never comes.

"How about this," Another security officer starts to say. "Why don't you explain who you are ma'am and then we can go on from there."

He's asking Minjeong this and she looks affronted.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Well you're the one who caused the commotion. So please tell us who you are and what is your relation to these people."

She blinks a few times before speaking. "I'm Lee Minjeong. I'm a part of the Lee clan down South."

"The Lee clan?" An officer asks. "You're a little far away from home aren't you?"

You can see the way Minjeong clenches her teeth with the way her jaw works.

"That's besides the point. I'm here because of him." She points to Hoseok. "He's holding this woman hostage the same way he did with me years ago. I had to get a restraining order against him because of this."

"So wait," The first officer holds his hand up. "You have a restraining order against him which means he can only be a certain amount of distance away from you."

"100 feet." Minjeong says.

"100 feet. Okay. And you're claiming this woman here - what's your name," he questions you.

"Y/N." Your name leaves your lips softly.

"Y/N. You're claiming that Miss Y/N is being held hostage by Lord Hoseok who seems to know her very well judging by the way he's holding her."

Minjeong's brows furrow as a deep frown mars her face. "You're making it sound like she has a choice."

"You're making it sound like like she doesn't but all I see here are two consenting adults." The officer points a finger at Minjeong. "You said you have a restraining order against Lord Hoseok. So then why are you two here? Together?"

It's here that Minjeong chokes. She doesn't look so angry - doesn't look as sure of herself anymore. Her nostrils flare in slight irritation or is that nervousness? She swallows deeply and gives you a quick look that you don't know how to define as.

"Lady Minjeong?" One of the officers call for her. "Please answer the question."

She clenches her teeth together and works her jaw before balling her hands into fists. Looking down she licks her lips and speaks without making eye contact with anyone.

"I saw the articles about Hoseok and... and Y/N. About them being together." She looks up at the officer in front of her. "I know Hoseok. I know him better than most and I knew - I knew he was holding Y/N hostage. I had to find her. It took some time but I did and she admitted to me that she was in danger."

Everyone's eyes move over to you. Your face drops in surprise. You didn't admit to anything. Yeah you may have agreed to some of the things she said back in the bathroom but you didn't admit to anything.

"Honestly," Your attention is drawn over to the one female officer not looking at you but Minjeong. "It sounds like to me that Lord Hoseok is the one needing a restraining order."

"What?" Minjeong snaps.

The officer continues. "You stalked Lord Hoseok and his partner," she looks at Hoseok. "I presume?"

He nods his head.

"You stalked them and now you're trying to get in the middle. It sounds to me like you're just jealous."

"Jealous? Jealous?! I am far from jealous! This has nothing to do with jealousy. I'm trying to protect Y/N!"

"You don't even know her!" Hoseok bites.

Minjeong's hands come up to her hair in frustration before a thought comes to her. "You!" She points towards Hoseok then at the officers. "You're controlling their minds. Don't let him control your minds!"

The officer before her huffs a laugh. "No one is controlling anyone's mind here."

"Y/N." She looks back at you. "You know the truth. Come on please. Speak up."

You're having a hard time maintaining eye contact with her. What you wanted is happening here right now so why aren't you speaking up?

You do have to say you're a little speechless. Minjeong was spying on you? You just met her and to know she lied to you about everything? You guess you would have lied too if it meant you could help someone.

Hoseok's arm around you feels like a weight. Like a warning that if you step out of line he'll control you again. You don't want that, but right now Minjeong is looking like an idiot the longer you stay quiet. The officers are clearly showing a bias here. They're taking Hoseok's side without outright saying it and twisting Minjeong's words.

To be honest you're a little scared right now because despite knowing you have no where to go if you speak up you also know that no one will take your side. The officers have made it clear that they're on their Lord's side and not the victim's. No one will believe you. No one but Minjeong whose family was paid to keep quiet.

You grab your stomach with both hands as the sudden need to gag hits you.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Quickly the female officer moves to grab the small trash bin near the door. She pushes her way between you all so she can hold it near you.

"Let everything out if you have to," she says.

Your nostrils flare as you try to breathe evenly but it's coming and it's coming fast.

Leaning over you begin to vomit. It rushes out of you quickly from both your nose and mouth. You can feel Hoseok pull your hair back as you throw everything up.

You didn't eat that much for breakfast so what mostly comes up is acid. It burns the back of your throat and the acrid smell just makes you more nauseous. You vomit and vomit until all that's left are dry heaves and a cramping stomach.

"Get her a bottle of water and some tissues." You hear an officer say.

Hoseok gently massages your back and asks if you're okay. You can only grunt in response as you're handed a box of tissues.

You grab a few to wipe your mouth and blow your nose. The feeling of vomit mixing with your mucus is disgusting but you have to get it all out.

"I'm sorry," you say.

"No no. You're okay." The female officer says.

You're handed a bottle of water you open up and take a swig of to rinse your mouth. You spit it out before taking another mouthful and drinking it down. The cold water feels like a blessing to your throat but it makes your stomach cramp. You wince at the feeling as your fingers dig into your stomach to help stave off the pain.

"All good?" Hoseok asks you.

You nod your head and the officer removes the trash bin from your sight.

You feel a little better now but you still have the lingering feeling of nausea. It's not as strong now that you threw up but some bit of it remains. Because of it you temporarily forgot about why you were here with all these people. It's now that you wish you were preoccupied with something else so that you wouldn't have to deal with the real issue at hand.

You look at Minjeong and you wish you were just as brave as her. Maybe once upon a time you would speak out but you realize that over time you've been made into a coward. You would love to escape but you don't think it's the right time. Or at least it won't be for a while. The sudden realization of that hurts you and you think Minjeong sees that because she gives you a look of worry.

"Don't," she says lowly.

You shake your head. "I want to go home."

Her eyes shut momentarily before she looks at you again. "Don't. Please."

"She wants to go home." Hoseok says. "You heard her."

You don't hear how smug you know he must be feeling. He plays the part of a concerned lover so well.

"I thinks it's best that we should leave." Taehyung says. "Why don't you stay out of our lives. For good now."

Minjeong squares her shoulders while flexing her jaw.

"Would you like for us to call the police to press any charges, my Lord?"

Your attention snaps to the officer who spoke before looking at Hoseok. Your captor stares at you and watches the way you shake your head.

"Don't," you say. "Just let it go."

Hoseok just stares at you with an unreadable expression and you're worried he might go against you but then he smiles.

"I'll let things slide. For now." He looks at Minjeong. "Do me a favor and leave while you still can."

Minjeong swallows deeply.

Before anyone can say anything else, Jungkook leaves. Taehyung follows after him and Hoseok does as well but not before bidding the officers farewell. You hesitate a moment before leaving as well.

Gods you're a coward. You've always sworn you would be able to escape but once the opportunity was finally presented to you you came up with a million excuses as to why it wouldn't work out. Excuses they were but you know you were right to walk away. It's so easy to formulate plans but for them to actually follow through - that would be the hard part. It doesn't stop your eyes from getting watery.

No one says a word as you four leave. You prefer it that way. You just want to stew in the silence. Accept your fate.

As you near the Macy's you hear a call of your name. You turn around to see Minjeong standing a few feet away from you. She's standing there with a menacing look directed at Hoseok and his brothers but when she looks at you her expression softens.

You're thinking of asking her what was wrong but something compels you to walk towards her. Hoseok's hand on your shoulder stops you but you're quick to shake it off.

"Give me a minute," you say and surprisingly he lets you go.

You walk over to Minjeong and give her a sorry look. You want to apologize but she just shakes her head.

"It took me a while," she says.

You don't get what she means until she reaches for your hand to hold tight.

"Don't let it be your last."

You feel something in your hand and hold it tight when she releases you. You want to see what it is but you don't dare look.

She gives you a smile before walking away.

You ball your hands into fists and feeling whatever is in your hand crumble up. It must be a piece of paper. In a nonchalant manner you slip your hands into your pockets and leave them there as you turn around to face Hoseok. He's frowning but he doesn't seem to suspect anything.

When you near him again he stretches his hand out for you to grab and you take it. Leaving behind whatever it is Minjeong gave you deep in your pocket. You'll have a look at what it is later when no one is around to watch you.

When you all return to the car you have to close your eyes and breathe. The sound of doors slamming shut around you makes the nausea from before slowly come back and it makes you a bit antsy.

"Are you okay, my love?" Hoseok asks. "How are you feeling?"

You grunt. "Feel sick."

"Again?" It's Taehyung who speaks. "You threw up a lot already." He hums to himself. "Maybe the events from today was too much."

"Maybe you have the stomach flu." Jungkook adds on.

You're grateful he isn't referring to you as an it like he would have before.

"I was feeling just fine earlier. Maybe it's nothing."

Jungkook shrugs. "Maybe."

A long pause of silence presents itself as the car starts up and Jungkook makes his way out of the parking lot. When he turns his head around to back out of the spot he gives you a quick onceover and hums.

"What," you ask.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks for that, I guess."

Hoseok brings a hand to the back of your head and scratches your scalp.

"We'll take you home now so there's no need to worry."

You moan in pain as your stomach cramps up. "Feeling sick again."

"We don't have anything in here to help you out." Taehyung says. "You'll just have to let Kooky know when he needs to park for you to vomit."

"Don't vomit in my car. Please."

You have half a mind in doing just that right here right now but you won't. You don't think you'd be able to handle the smell on the ride home.

"Do we need to take you to the hospital?"

You look over at Hoseok that looks at you in concern before shaking your head.

"I'll be fine. I just need bed."

"A visit to the hospital wouldn't be a bad one." Taehyung chimes in. "They'll at least give you what you need so you can get better."

You groan but it's because you know he's right.

"I'll take you to the hospital." Jungkook says. "Maybe it'll make you stop moaning and groaning."

There's a kick to the back of Jungkook's seat from Hoseok who chuckles.

"Be nice, Kooky."

The youngest doesn't say anything back but you know he wants to.

You rest your head on the window as you look off into the distance. With the car moving you have to keep your eyes open because with every sway it triggers your nausea.

Why are you feeling like this? You were just fine earlier. You think maybe because of the stress it must have triggered everything. First the fight with Hoseok and then the run in with Minjeong. Finding out Minjeong was stalking you but you know she did it for the right reasons. Today was too adventurous for you. That's for sure.

Hoseok holds your hand in his before turning it over. His fingers run over your wrist until he finds a spot and presses into your flesh. It's a steady amount of pressure he provides and you turn your head to give him a questioning look.

As if sensing your eyes on him he looks up at you and smiles before looking back down.

"Acupressure for nausea."

You hum before looking out the window.

You try not think about any of the stressors in your life to avoid triggering your nausea and vomiting again. It's a little easier said than done with you being in the car with your captor and his brothers one of which you still believe dislikes you. No matter what anyone says.

The car ride is quiet save for the low music that plays and the occasional talk between Taehyung and Jungkook. They talk about Jimin's birthday, new games that are coming out and mundane things about life. What they don't talk about is Minjeong and you suspect they will but behind Hoseok's back. For now though she's the farthest from their minds.

After a while you reach a large hospital that you realize isn't that far from the house. It has a beautiful garden up front in the middle of a roundabout. If it weren't because you feel sick you would have checked them out to see which flower is what.

Your eyes trail up to see the sign 'Emergency' written in large, red letters above double doors that open when approached.

As you and Hoseok undo your seatbelts Taehyung turns around to look at you.

"Call us when you need a ride."

Hoseok smiles. "Will do."

Your stomach begins to cramp again when you exit the car. Digging your fingers into your flesh you wait for Hoseok to come around and urge you forward with an arm around you.

The air from inside the hospital is on full blast and it makes you tremble when you get inside. Everything looks new to you though as you've never been to a hospital before. Only once to help that woman who escaped her brother but you never really had a chance to look around. Your sheltered life at the Baek's made that whatever you do know about the outside world was through movies and online shows. It's a bit startling honestly. Despite missing your old home you can't help but to be thankful that you've been allowed some time out thanks to Hoseok and his brothers, but you're not about to admit that out loud.

You walk to the front desk where a young receptionist whose eyes widen a bit when she sees Hoseok. She stands to bow and the other receptionist next to her gives her a weird look but says nothing.

"Lord Hoseok," she chirps. "What can I do for you today?"

He gives her a small smile to which she smiles back before sitting down.

"My partner has been sick," he says. "She's been nauseous and throwing up."

Now that she hears this she gets to work. Asking for your name and date of birth. She types some more and after a minute she asks for your wrist. When she does you give her a confused look before you realize that she's going to tag it. After she puts it on you look at it to see it has your information on it.

"You can have a seat. You will be called shortly."

By shortly she means an hour later. At some point Hoseok had to get you a vomit bag because you needed to throw up again. It wasn't a lot this time unlike when you were at the mall. Your stomach still cramps and the longer you wait out in the waiting room the more anxious you grow and the more you become nauseous.

Thankfully you are called back and get your vitals taken. Everything seems normal and afterwards you meet with a nurse who wants to put you on IV fluids. You give her a look that Hoseok catches on to. He's standing by your side on the hospital bed you're sitting on and begins to rub your back gently.

"Have you ever gotten a needle," he asks.

You shake your head no to which he smiles.

"It'll be a small pinch. Nothing too bad."

When the nurse comes back she has everything and gets to work. You watch as she ties a tourniquet around your arm and checks for a good vein. You're starting to feel anxious and can feel the way your heart beats painfully. When she finds one she likes she preps the needle and brings it close to your arm but before she can dig it in your head grows light and everything goes black.

You don't know what happens after that. You just know that when you wake up you're lying out on the bed with a worried Hoseok by your side.

"Hey baby," he says with small smile.

You look around confused and down at your arm where you feel something cool going into it. You see that you're hooked up to an IV bag and the cool feeling is from the liquid seeping in.

"What happened," you ask.

Hoseok goes to ease you back down when you try to sit up.

"You fainted." He huffs a small laugh. "I think you getting your first needle did it for you."

"Oh." You don't know what else to say but that.

"Just relax." Hoseok says. "I'll see if I can find your nurse."

He stands up to leave the room and when the door shuts behind him you sigh.

Your hand rubs your belly. It still aches but you don't have the need to vomit. You don't know if the nurse gave you anything for it while you were knocked out but if she did you're thankful for it.

You look back down at your arm and stare at the sliver of the needle that sticks out and how it's attached to a plastic piece that's connected to the IV tube. You make a face at it and settle back down onto the thin pillow that's placed beneath your head.

It takes Hoseok a while to return but when he does he comes in with a smile.

"She'll be right in in a moment."

You hum as he sits down on the bed next to you.

He grabs your hand and massages your palm. He looks down at you and you can tell he's trying to not look so worried. You sigh again and it makes him look at you.

"You okay," he asks.

You shrug. "I guess."

"You really had me worried for a second there. I was already worried you were sick but when you fainted I couldn't help but to freak out." He nibbles his bottom lip before pushing your hair behind your ear. "I still am worried."

"I'll be okay I'm sure. It's probably just stress."

"Probably."

There's a knock on the door and you peek around Hoseok to see that it's the nurse.

"Hey there, honey." She comes around to stand by your side. "Before putting the IV in I drew some blood so that's in the lab right now."

You nod your head.

"The doctor will be in to see you shortly but is there anything else I can do for you?"

You think on it before shaking your head. "Not really."

She smiles. "Okay. If you do need anything please let me know. My name is Dawn and like I said the doctor will be in shortly."

She gives you one last smile before heading out.

For the time it takes the doctor to come you and Hoseok stay in silence. He wanted you to close your eyes and relax which you did as he played with your hand. Soft and gentle touches running up and down your arm as your body goes lax. When the doctor does come you open your eyes and welcome him in with a small smile.

"Hi. Y/N?"

You nod.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Callahan. So what brings you in today?"

You try to sit up but Hoseok urges for you to stay lying down. You don't try to fight him but it doesn't stop you from sighing.

"My stomach has been cramping and I've been throwing up."

"How long have you been like this?"

You shrug. "For a few hours? I was fine this morning."

"Anything you ate?"

"She didn't eat that much today." Hoseok chimes in.

Dr. Callahan nods. "Are you sexually active?"

Your head jerks back a bit in surprise but you shouldn't be you guess. He is a doctor asking reasonable questions. It doesn't stop the heat from creeping up your neck.

"Yes."

"Okay. Have you had a pregnancy test done?"

Your eyes widen as your mouth slowly hangs ajar.

There was no way in hell. No way in hell you were pregnant. Right?

You shift your sights over to Hoseok who has a look of subtle surprise but nothing more nothing less. It's not helping the way your anxiety is starting to spike up.

"I um," you start. "I - no. No I haven't."

The doctor nods. "Okay that's fine. We can do one for you now. All we need is a little bit of your urine and we can get a result within minutes for you."

"Okay." The word leaves you in a shaky manner.

When he leaves to retrieve a cup for you you look at Hoseok with wide eyes that scream discomfort.

"There's no way I'm pregnant," you say.

He squeezes your hand in what you assume to be comfort.

"We don't know that yet."

"No Hoseok. I am not pregnant."

There's no way. You couldn't be. You'll never be. It's already bad enough you're in the predicament you're in with Hoseok who just so happens to be your kidnapper but to have a baby by him too? Gods you think you're about to have a panic attack.

"If you aren't then good but if you are," Hoseok shrugs. "We'll deal with it."

You sit up quickly and your stomach cramps because of it.

"I don't want to deal with it." You're beginning to tremble with nerves. "I can't be pregnant."

"Shh baby. Hey." He brings a hand up to your cheek and caresses it with his thumb. "We'll get through this. It's going to be okay."

He doesn't seem to get the severity of the situation but then again he isn't you. He wasn't kidnapped and forced into a certain life by someone. It's terrifying to think about even more so with knowing you just might be carrying his child.

You're not fit to be a mother. Maybe some day but today is not that day.

Swallowing your spit is getting hard when it grows viscous with your nerves. The feeling to vomit doesn't come but something akin to nausea does hit you. You're even growing a bit lightheaded.

"You need to calm down, Y/N. If you don't you're going to faint again."

You know he's right and so you try to take deep even breaths. It still doesn't change the fact that you're a bottle of nerves. Filled to the brim with anxiety.

There's a knock on the door and it opens to reveal the doctor with a little cup in his hand.

"Alright so I just need you to pee in this. It doesn't need to be a lot. Just a little bit."

The door opens again and in walks in Dawn. She smiles at you.

"I'll run the test on it when you're done," she says.

You're hesitant to take the cup but you know you need to do this. You have to do this. For peace of mind.

Hoseok helps in easing you up off of the bed along with the nurse once the doctor leaves. She says she'll take you to the bathroom and encourages him to stay in the room, but there's a hesitancy about him. Like he's not sure if he should leave you alone with the nurse. His hands come together in nervousness and he looks at you with pleading eyes. You know what he's asking for. For you not to slip up and fuck his whole life over.

After today you don't think you'll be leaving any time soon. After the incident with Minjeong you were left feeling like you have no place to go and then you're reminded of something. In your pocket is something Minjeong slipped to you. When you go to the bathroom you'll check to see what it is.

You nod towards Hoseok as a way to let him know things will be okay. He seems to release the tension in his shoulders a little as the nurse leads you out of the room.

You drag along the stand the IV fluid hangs from as you hold the cup in a death grip. You're far beyond nervous right now and you're afraid the result might be that you are pregnant. What are you going to do then? There's no way Hoseok would allow for an abortion will he? He's controlled your life in every other aspect you wouldn't doubt he would control your pregnancy as well.

"Here we are." The nurse says. "I'll be waiting for you right here."

You thank her before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

You sigh as you place the cup down on the edge of the sink. The first thing you do before bringing your pants down is dig into your pocket. You fish out a folded piece of paper. It's what Minjeong passed to you before she left and you hurriedly unfold it to see numbers. Not just any set of numbers. It's her phone number.

You close your eyes in relief. You didn't know what to expect but now that you see it you're happy. Without hesitation you pull out your phone and enter the number on it. You hope Hoseok doesn't go through it but just in case you don't put her name. You think on what to put as you look around you. When your eyes draw to the cup an idea hits you and you're quick to write the name Dawn. If he were to ever ask you who Dawn was you'll say it's the nurse from the hospital. That you exchanged numbers because she was really nice to you. That's all.

You quickly discard the piece of paper and lie your phone next to the cup before pulling your pants and underwear down to pee.

Nothing comes out at first and you have to turn the faucet on to get the urge going. You take the cap off of the cup and stare at it, letting the sound of rushing water get to you until you finally have the urge to pee.

You slip the cup beneath you and get what you can before finishing in the toilet and cleaning up. You wash your hands and wrap the capped cup in a paper towel, turn off the faucet and grab your phone to slip it into your pocket. You're done, you're set and exit the bathroom to see Dawn waiting for you just like she said.

She smiles. "All done?"

You nod your head and give her the cup.

The two of you walk down the hall towards your room seemingly calm but your heart is beating a mile a minute. Fingers crossed you're not pregnant because you don't know how you're going to deal with that.

When you open the door you see Hoseok who fidgets with his fingers. He looks just as nervous as you but he does his best to hide it when he sees you.

He stands and pulls you into his arms where he hugs you gently and kisses your forehead.

"The test will take a few minutes. Once I have a result I'll let you guys know."

You give a soft "Okay" and watch as she departs.

Behind the closed door Hoseok kisses your forehead again and urges you to look up at him with a hand to your chin.

"Your heart beat," he says.

You know what he means by it. He can hear how nervous you are.

"It's going to be okay. If you aren't pregnant then good but if you are we'll deal with it, okay?"

You nod your head though what you want more than anything is to not deal with it. You think of bringing up getting an abortion but you're afraid of what he might say. So you stay quiet for your sake.

A few minutes turn to more and more turns to almost an hour. You were told the pregnancy test would only take a few minutes but now you're left feeling nothing but dread because you have yet to receive an answer. You can't sit still and you're stomach is starting to cramp again. Hoseok had to retrieve you a clean throw up bag because the nausea is starting to creep up again. Gods this doesn't help. You want to be put out of your misery right now because you can't keep dealing with the wait.

Almost on the dot of another hour does Hoseok sit up in his seat and looks at the door. When he does you look at the door expectantly until there's a knock. The door opens to reveal Dawn and she has a sorry look on her face.

"I'm so sorry it took so long. We had a bit of an emergency that took up our time."

You shake your head. "No no. It's okay." You're a restless mess but you can't fault her for this.

"So I got your results."

Hoseok reaches for your hand and you find yourself holding him tight.

"You're not pregnant."

Like a huge weight being lifted off of your shoulders you sigh in relief. You look at Hoseok who sighs as well but he doesn't make a big show of it like you do.

Dawn smiles. "As for your blood everything is looking good."

"Then what's causing the stomach issues," you ask.

"Have you been under any stress lately?"

That's the million dollar question.

Of course you've been under stress and after things having been calm for a few weeks the issue with the letter and then Minjeong things got a little out of control. So you nod.

"A little bit."

"Well that can be causing it. When you leave we'll give you some scripts to take to the pharmacy for both the stomach pain and the nausea."

You nod again. "Okay."

Okay. You breathe another sigh of relief and let the nurse handle everything that needs to be done. She asks if you're still having issues with your stomach pain now that she sees you with another throw up bag. You say yes and she's quick to issue another dose of medicine to cool it down along with something for the nausea. When she leaves to check on your discharge paperwork Hoseok squeezes your hand and you look over to him.

"We need to get you on birth control," he says.

Your brows furrow a little at the prospects of getting on birth control. You know about it not just through media but the women who your former Masters would have frenzy feedings with. It's clear that you and Hoseok should have been using protection from the beginning but you just haven't. If you would have ended up pregnant it wouldn't have been a mistake. You and Hoseok looked for that problem although unintentional it was.

"There's all types. We just have to find the right one for you."

"And what about you," you ask.

"What about me?"

You shrug. "You don't want to try condoms?"

Hoseok's lips slowly part in mild surprise. "Um. I guess? With birth control you should be fine."

"But what if none of them work?"

"Then we use condoms."

You nod. "Okay."

You won't get into an argument with him about it but you wanted to make it clear that condoms were an option.

Today has been a roller coaster ride of emotions and pains. The nurse tells you to limit your stress to avoid your stomach aches and nausea again. It's easier said than done. Especially because the main cause of your stress is because you were kidnapped. Something she of course doesn't know. Something you know Hoseok is thankful you didn't speak up about because you're too much of a coward. At least you have Minjeong's number. She said it took her a while to escape. It's going to take you a while too but if you need help you have her number.

You also have some questions for Namjoon and Yoongi. You don't know if they'll be willing to answer them all but you'll make sure you're alone with them when you go to question them. Just so that they don't feel pressured around their brothers or the servants.

You're also glad Hoseok wasn't too keen on the idea of you being pregnant. He didn't show outright disgust or annoyance about it but it seemed as if he preferred that you weren't. It's the small things to be happy about you guess.

You don't know what you would do with a child. You don't feel like you're ready for one and you especially don't want to have a child with your captor. You're already living a nightmare. You don't want to make it worse.

You also note something else and it's something you try not to think about. You try not to because if you ignore it maybe then it wouldn't be true. You're becoming complicit with Hoseok. He's wrong for kidnapping you. Wrong for doing all the things he's done but you're not fighting him as much. You chalk that up to being a coward. A coward that was too scared to speak up to the security officers. Too much of a coward to speak up even now. You would like to think it's because of that and not because you're settling into this new life of yours. It scares you to think that but you're not doing much else. You're always thinking about escaping but you're not putting in the effort.

You wonder if Minjeong was the same way. She said it took her a while to escape so maybe. Maybe if it weren't for Yoongi she'd still be with Hoseok and you'd be still with the Baeks. Or would Hoseok had chosen you anyway the day he first saw you? Would he have sent Minjeong off or would he keep you both?

You don't want to think about these things but sometimes you can't help it.

Hoseok holds you close in a hug and tells you how he's going to set up an appointment for you with a gynecologist and you just listen attentively. You let him talk without interrupting. No you don't like to think you're getting used to this life but you're something close to it. Very close to it.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Half(a) Fool Too Much

For: @lexiepiper @murphy-kitt @a-closet-emo @amabsis @lexosaurus @deathcomes4u @ventisettestars @dennyz-backroom @paenling @echoghost1 @ssprout @silverwing013 @mossy-covered-bones​

April Fools in Amity Park equals absolute Chaos. Especially when Danny Fenton, aka the weird pun-loving half ghost kid, is involved.

“So, whatcha in for, Fenturd?”.

Danny snorts, rolling his eyes at the jock, “you know me well enough, what am I not in for”, leaning back in his seat, “what really sealed the deal was me inconveniencing Lancer, you see….”.

—1 hour prior—

Okay. So Danny might have fucked up. To be fair it was totally one hundred percent Vlad’s fault. Definitely. (That was a lie)

Vlad had been complaining Danny’s ears off about the towns ‘weird fetishisation’ of his two halfs, so Danny did something. A very something something.

Bribed a few Neko cat ghosts to run around confessing their undying love for Plasmius all around town. Then tricked a very drunken Plasmius to chase a laser pointer across the rooftops; that way everyone would think Plasmius was a weird cat ghost, and thus living regular humans definitely wouldn’t be interested in that right? Wrong.

Then today Vlad tried to hold a press conference to ‘dispel the rumours about one of the local ghosts’, said rumours had spun wildly into half the town thinking Plasmius was a ancient cat god taking a humanoid form to woo ‘a mate’. So Danny tried to be helpful and possessed the podium mic to voice over Vlad so it sounded like this was a press conference to declare his undying love of cheese and only cheese.

The town would definitely not still be interested in someone who proclaimed to have a passionate love for literal cheese baths.

Except that had been followed up by someone shouting, “cats love cheese so is this your attempt to woo Plasmius?”, followed by the crowd whispering about the ‘town hotties’ trying to get together.

That all isn't the why or how of Danny getting detention though. Rather it was the fact that Vlad’s response to that question had been to promptly swear in Russian.

All it took was one “Пиздец” (Damn it) and Danny burst out laughing in shock so hard that… he got stuck in the microphone.

Stuck in a microphone during school hours… when he was supposed to be in Mr. Lancer’s class… a Mr. Lancer that was already fed up with everyone’s April fools shit, especially Danny’s.

—Present—

Danny shrugs, “so yeah, Lance had to fetch me out of a microphone while Vladdie snapped about how he-”, making mocking air quotes, “‘didn't know whether to be touched or pissed, Daniel’. I for one was very impressed with myself; both of my mild swear-related Russian skills and my messing with people skills”, and nods curtly to himself.

Wes chuckles a little, “you’re a little jack ass, but even I’m impressed you got mayor Bastard to actually swear”.

Danny finger guns at the wannabe sleuth, “and he did it in front of a mic”, then grumbling, “granted he could just blame me for that and say I was manipulating the sounds”.

Dash raises an eyebrow, “you were doing that though”.

“Shush you”.

Dash chuckles, leaning back himself, “least all I did was set the bathrooms on fire”.

Wes pointing at him, “on fire by making them spew literal magma. I’m surprised the schools still standing”.

Danny just looks impressed, “that was you? Damn. That shit out shone my whole ghost bees in the water lines”.

“… Didn't three people have to go home because of that?”.

Danny glares at the jock, “oh like you care, Mr. Got Kwan To Replace The Footballs With Explosives. That wasn't even original”.

Wes scowls at him, “well unlike your half ghost ass, we can’t just phase things through peoples locker doors or turn peoples pants invisible”.

Dash nodding, “or stab ourselves in the heart with a pencil to scare a sub”.

“Or swallow enough forks to violently vomit up forks in the middle of gym class”.

“I’d bet ten bucks you were also the one who made the stop signs start ominously walking towards parked cars”.

Wes rolls his eyes, “and that whole every pot in town simultaneously falling over and exploding had to have been you”.

Danny gives them a mean smug smirk, “hey if the towns going to decide that vampire looking ass is a cat god, then I have to out cat him”.

Dash tilts his head, “but didn't everyone drop that after, like, almost our entire class got both Phantom and The Box Ghost to also chase a laser pointer?”.

“That means nothing”, Danny puts his hands behind his head, “honestly? I’m more surprised that me parading Pariah around as my new dad wasnt the thing that finally broke Lancer”.

Wes actually slaps the back of Danny’s head, “I thought that was Vlad pranking you! The entire town blamed me for that shit!”.

“Why the fuck would you get me ghost adopted!”.

“I don’t know! That’s what I said!”.

Dash gives Wes a dull look, “dont you dare tell us that you're in here for something you didn't even do”. Of course weird Wes would be the one to get in trouble without causing trouble even on fucking April fools.

Wes huffs, grumbling, “well I did steal the G.I.W.’s new recruit tour bus in an attempt to make them follow a certain someone”.

Dash groans, “even on April fools you cant drop that ‘Fenturd is Phantom’ crap? Sure, he might be some freak ghost hybrid thing but come on already”.

Wes throws up his hands, “OH MY GOD YOU ARE ALL FUCKING DUMBASSES”.

Danny chuckles at his expense, “says the dumbass that apparently crashed a government bus into the cafeteria soup pot”.

Dash blinks, “yeah i still don’t get why the lunch ladies make the soup in a five foot by five foot vat”.

Danny shrugs, was it gross? Yeah. Was he complaining? Not really. “At least the G.I.W. contaminating it with cleaners got us out of eating it”. All three nodding readily.

Wes huffs, eyeing Danny, “what I don't get is why you even did that thing with Pariah? How was having a tyrannical genocidal mad man following you around shouting about forged adoption papers and trying to stab you with a sword, a good prank?”.

“Fishing for fresh gossip, are we?”.

“Oh fuck you”.

Danny chuckles and shrugs, “it pissed Vlad off”, shrugging, “plus, Pariah is kinda pretty badass. Have you seen his biceps? He has black-clad knight even”.

Dash quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head, “you could have just stolen the mayors bed, not went through freaking adoption, you weirdo. Point on the rest though”, and eyes his own bicep, flexing.

“Hey, I already did the whole fill up water bed with wet cement thing; the last thing I am is an unimaginative repeater”.

“I’d say you're lucky that didn't kill him, but if Vlad couldn’t survive deadly situations, someone would have assassinated him by now”.

“Wait, would that make you, like, ghost royalty now? You should totally boss Phantom around now”.

Danny gives the jock a blank look, “Dash, I’m not bossing a ghost around in their own lair, you dick”. Dash just rolls his eyes at that, while Wes mutters, “you can't boss yourself around anyways”, which goes ignored.

All three jerk at the door getting yanked open… by Pariah Dark, “I’VE FOUND YO-”, followed by a red blast shooting him away, the door swinging back shut, a bunch of thumping, a not so small explosion, and the door opening back up. It’s the FrightKnight, “I blame you for this”, he appears to be ‘dragging off’ Pariah -who glares dangerously at Danny- by the cape to do royal duties.

Danny grins meanly as the door reshuts, “I guess I should also mention some ghosts who really don’t like me are trying to make my ‘new dad’ take responsibility for me”.

Dash blinks before putting his head down on his desk and wheezing, “you really went and pranked a ghost king, you fucking weirdo”.

A couple more thumps make them eye the door, then the wall as the sounds seem to be coming from the room over now. They all glance at each other, shrug, and get up to investigate. At this point, how much more trouble could they even get in anyways?

---

Valerie was having a day, alright? April fools was one of the worst days in her opinion, and not just because of the ghosts being ghostly pains in the ass; no it was mostly Danny’s half ghostly ass. What kind of (lovable) psycho convinces everyone who sells salad to sell exclusively screaming ghost salad. And that’s not even touching him being responsible for her having to chase goddamn Pariah around and actually play nice with The FrightKnight.

It was like Danny’s goal every April was to turn the entire town into a hostage situation and blow shit up. At least he was also pestering that lying asshole Vlad, but still.

So now, just like every April First since she started being a hunter, she gotten shit-kicked. Normally she’d be cool with Phantom maybe coming and patching her up, but knowing that ghost, he’d clap her in the face with a ghost-shaped pie first.

And as if she could see the future, the classroom door opens and whoever gets to see her injured bullshit. Fucking lovely.

���

Annnnnnd of course it’s Dash, resident bully and ex-friend. Danny, the reason for all her problems today and ex-boyfriend. And Wes, the wack job conspiracy nut. Fun. Fuck the entire universe and Phantom too.

At least she’s still in her suit. That was something.

Dash, the ass, whistles, “damn, you got your ass kicked”.

She groans and half slurs, “oh fuck you”.

Danny finger guns while the three boys walk closer, “swearing at civilians, I like it”.

She wants to punch him.

Wes throws up his hands, “oh great the other teenage superhero that no one believes me about”.

Earning a round of, “shut up, Wes”, from everyone.

Danny shrugs, leaning down, “but hey, from one Wes victim to another, let’s get you to not be a blood fountain”.

No one says or does anything for a second before Valerie cautious speaks up, “are you trying to fix things for once? On April fools?”.

“Hey it’s not that weird”.

Everyone shouting, “Yes it is!”, isn’t surprising.

Danny pouts, “fine, I’m doing this weirdly then. Give me your scanner”.

Valerie sighs, “this might as well happen”.

Dash sounds more cautious than she had, “what are you going to do with it”.

“Possess it and jump start healing”.

Dash quirks an eyebrow, “after you got detention for getting stuck in a microphone?”.

“Oh it’ll be fine”.

… it was not fine.

Danny’s voice comes out through the scanner. “Uh. I’m stuck again. Oops?”.

Everyone facepalms.

Valerie sighs, granted Danny had jumpstarted her suits healing to a weird degree but for fucks sake. At least she could fix this easily, a couple taps and boom! one half ghost ex gets ejected.

Danny just blinks from where he landed on his ass on the floor, “huh. Well that was convenient”.

Valerie grumbles from the floor, “convenient my ass. One of the most pain in the ass ghosts in this town has a thing for overshadowing, protecting myself against that is common sense”.

“Hey at least you don’t have cat ears-”.

She mildly shoots him as she stands up, “you can shut the fuck up, oh my Zone you are a dick”, and aggressively waves away the ectoplasm the boy had made form little cat ears on her helmet. She also decides to take the building shaking slightly as her cue to book it outta there; Zone knows what ghostly brawl is awaiting her now; the three boys not far behind.

The last thing they expected was for there to be a couple of men in suits flashing badges and asking them if they can help them find a certain boy; Valerie just chuckling awkwardly and flying off quickly on her board, the boys can deal with this shit.

Danny looking to Wes while gesturing grandly, arms still smoking slightly, “Wes! I thought you just stole a G.I.W. vehicle not a standard government vehicle!”.

“I did!”.

One of the men clears their throat, “actually, we’re looking for Daniel Fenton”.

Danny drops his arms, “ah”, blinking, “Fuck”, and turns to book it down the hallway.

Dash crouches on his heels, wheeze laughing, “the Hell else did you do, Fentwink!”, wheezing some more, “you did some crazy shit, some stupid shit, and some hilarious shit; but what did you do to get arrested by the government”. Wes rubs his eyes, “why do I even try to get him in trouble? He’s doing it all on his own”.

Danny, for whatever reason, doesn’t try to phase or fly off -likely not wanting to flaunt his ghostliness too much to outsiders- and thus gets tackled to the ground. One of the agents snapping, “Daniel Fenton, you’re under arrest for hacking your way into presidency”.

Danny blinks, “… TUCKER! YOU DICK!”.

Said geeks voice comes through the -hacked- speaker system, “how was I supposed to know hacking the federal government was a bad idea? Don't you want to be able to say you took over the country before the fruitloop could?”.

The government agents look like they’re trying to not be swayed by this, though it was an… interesting attempt out of being arrested. All their proof led back to Daniel not this Tucker though. Eh they’ll let their boss figure it all out.

-

Tucker winces, watching Danny glare bloody murder at the school cameras while being carted off by government agents. He looks to Sam from their spot up in the school ceiling, “do you think I should just bite the bullet and show him Phantom’s fursona that I got on the evening newspapers front page?”.

Sam glares, “what did you ask the artist to make him”.

“…”, Tucker looks down and sighs in defeat, “a badger”.

“You’re fucking Dead”.

(Danny -as Phantom- did, in fact, kick his ass later while throwing newspapers at him and chasing him around town)

---

William Lancer sighs, taking a seat with his tea, unfolding the evening news. Figured that on April fools the paper would choose to run a, freakishly well done, anthropomorphic version of the local town hero ghost. “Hopefully there’s something in here I can use as a creative writing punishment”.

Lance Thunder chuckles hollowly, “those teens giving you trouble? I saw what that Daniel boy did with the mayors mic”.

William grimaces, “that wasn't even the worst of it. When I finally gave him a detention he ate my tie. He vomited forks on the gym teacher earlier”.

Mr. Thunder grimaces, “that boy is a menace. They give you a pay raise yet?”.

“Ha. As if”.

“Same”, Mr. Thunder puts a hand to his chest, “and I have to report on all this mess tomorrow. Someone glued a bunch of hair to hotdogs and hung them from trees; the smell was nauseating. And that magma river from Casperhigh? Who even did that?”.

William sighs, “Dash, the quarter back. He got detention, for once, too. I can’t exactly make him clean up magma, so I think I’m going to make him sweep up all the whisp ghost spit up”, shaking his head, “if I made Daniel do that, he’d roll around in it”.

“My hair could never”.

William nods slowly, though pausing with his tea cup to his lips as the two Lance’s stare at a government vehicle going by with a seemingly arrested Daniel sitting in it and kicking the window bars while growling like a feral animal.

Both Lance’s blink, “what did he do now”.

Sam running by glances over, huffing, “Tucker made him the president of the United States”.

Lance Thunder pulling out his note pad, sounding defeated, “guess I know tomorrows main story: ‘Underage, Under-Alive, and Undervoted: Half Dead Local Becomes President, Voting Rights Hacked’”.

William Lancer nodding, “and I know his most recent excuse for ditching detention: ‘sorry I was busy getting arrested for being the president of the United States’”.

They eye each other and sigh, continuing non with their respective drinks and trying to have a little bit of peace for a bit.

End.

Prompts: - Danny learns how to possess inanimate objects. It’s all fun and games until he gets stuck… and People know Danny Fenton is half ghost but don’t know he’s Phantom. and When Valerie found herself stumbling into the first empty classroom she could find, bleeding and woozy, she did not expect to see a pair of shoes waltz up to her spot on the floor calmly. She was grateful they hadn’t started screaming, and looked up at her possible ally. When she saw who they were, she cursed her luck (and Phantom, too, for good measure). and People and ghosts in Amity (for whatever reason) find both Vlad and Plasmius to be attractive, so Vlad goes to Danny to help and help he does! (He makes everything worse, for Vlad that is) and Tucker fucked up. Hard. But it’s like, how the hell was he supposed to know that hacking the federal government was a bad idea? and Tucker commissions a very good artist to design Danny Phantom a fursona. and Danny decides Pariah is adopting him. Maybe Danny fell into the keep, and open the coffin out of curiosity. Upon seeing Pariah, Danny makes him ghost dad. Maybe to get Vlad off his case by having a scarier dad, but maybe cause pariah looks cool in the eyes of a teenager? Doesn't need to be Pariah redemption. and It’s annual Casper High April Fools Prank War. It’s a day friendships are broken and not even the teachers are safe. Dash, Wes and Danny talk about what did they do to get detention in a day that has no laws. and Danny commits harmless poltergeist mischief (read: cat behavior) around the town, or is otherwise an absolute Creature. and Danny finds out Vlad knows Russian. How? Well, Vlad swore in his native langue not realizing that Danny has been slowly teaching himself Russian (so he’s that much more ready to be on the ISS) and he started with the swears because he’s a teenager. and Everyone knows that cats go crazy for laser-pointers- but what do ya know, they work on ghosts too! and For two men who share similar names, that wasn't what Mr. Lancer and Lance Thunder connected over. There is Amity and there are ghosts and *they do not get paid enough for this shit*. (Share a rapport, friendship, relationship, whatever, go for it) and “Oops”

[iannicellis]

Hi all! I'm so thrilled to be able to bring you my first writing update. I so though this would have happened already, but trying to get any writing done during this semester has been like fighting in the trenches.

Anyway, I haven't been able to work on any of my long form wips, but I have been able to complete the first draft of a short story that will be the first in a science fiction collection. Let's talk about it!

This short story is called MY LUNGS REMEMBER AIR. Logline below:

A young girl reaches a breaking point when denied the opportunity to grieve for her deceased sister.

I wrote this story over the course of about three days for the science fiction and fantasy workshop I'm taking this semester. Getting it down on paper-- especially the second half-- was a little like pulling teeth, but it's amazing what a deadline will do for you lol.

I am very much still warming up my science fiction muscles, as it is a new genre for me (at least when it comes to writing, not so much reading), but I really felt like I started coming into my own voice for the genre with this piece. As the logline suggests, it deals with themes of grief and sisterhood, as well as autonomy and ethics (of resurrecting your daughter as an android and pretending she never died). The first two, you will find if you keep following me here, are things that I cannot stop exploring in my writing. So! I clung to the familiar territory of grief and sisterhood to navigate the waters of this new genre, and I think it went well???

My goals were twofold: I wanted to convey an off-putting vibe, and I wanted my protagonist's grief to be palpable and relatable. Based on the feedback I've gotten on this story thus far, I definitely succeeded in the first of these, but on edits I'm aiming to delve even deeper into my protagonist's grief.

I learned in writing this that sci-fi fucks actually and I had a great time. Very much looking forward to writing more short stories for this collecting that's slowly slowly starting to come together in my head.

MY LUNGS REMEMBER AIR excerpts below!

One year comes and goes without recognition. What is there to recognize, when, according to her parents, Monterey is at the dinner table every night, watching the television with dad before bed, cracking jokes with mom as they get ready for Saturday morning yoga? She wears Monterey's laugh like an ill-fitting coat. Daytona passes the day in the darkness of Quay's bedroom, demolishing a handle of whiskey between herself and Quay and Flossie. She lays her clammy head on Quay's lap and watches the two of them play video games until she sees stars behind her eyelids when she blinks. When she vomits in Quay's bathroom later that night, he rubs her back and Flossie holds up her hair and the desert heave of her sob is swallowed by the sound of the toilet flushing.

In the quiet midnight hours one night, after waking up from the routine sleepwalking, Daytona shuffles into the kitchen and cuts an apple in the darkness. She slots a slice into her mouth, and the crunch of teeth on fruit flesh is the loudest thing in the neighborhood. She runs the knife under a thin stream of sink water to rid it of the juice, and rubs slow, contemplating circles on the metal with a rag to dry it off. Moonlight shines on the blade, pulsing like a heartbeat.  It might kill her, Daytona thinks. If she plunges it in just the right place, the not-sister might stop talking with Monterey’s voice, and laughing with Monterey’s laugh, and looking at her with Monterey’s eyes. They could bury the not-girl in her sister’s place and finally, finally let free the relief and rot of grief. 

[eddiemunsonappreciationsociety]

MY WORD IS MY BOND

Part Five: It's a strong magnetic field, monolithic in its feel

Over the next week, Eddie and I spend every spare moment talking to each other. Texts in the day, phone calls at night. He takes up every extra thought. He is so fascinating, enigmatic, funny, witty... sexy. So sexy. 

Every night before we say goodnight, usually far too late, he asks me on the date and I give some sort of excuse to sidestep the invitation.

Is he eager because, like me, he's feeling the pull of us together? My body and mind want to be with him. Or does he just want to be some sort of super vampire?

On Friday night I consult the stars, runes, various divination cards, tea leaves, pendulums, and any other divination methods I even had the slightest inclination for. They tell me a confusing tale. As I sit on the floor, surrounded by my various tools, I had been at this for two hours and I was exhausted. Answers to the questions were confusing me. 

I ask the stars if the path to Eddie will lead to danger - yes 

I ask the runes if the path to Eddie is the right one - unsure 

I ask the pendulums if I should cut him off completely - big massive huge no

I decide the questions are too big. 

I ask the cards if I should go on the date - yes. 

The time on my grandfather's clock strikes eight and bang on the first chime my phone jumps to life. 

Eddie. 

I answer on the first ring. 

"I will go on a date with you." I blurt out before either of us says hi. 

"Really?" his voice is so excited but also a hint of, almost, relief. 

 I smile through my heart-racing anxiety. 

"Yes." 

"Now?" he asks eagerly.

"No, not now."

"What if you change your mind?"

"I won't."

"What about a brunch date?"

"I have to open the shop."

"I know, I just really don't want you to change your mind."

"I won't!" I exclaim, lying back on my rug, I remove a rune sticking in me.

"What made you say yes?" 

"I did some witchy things."

"Don't do anymore." his voice was commanding, solid.

"I won't, promise."

All the next day I'm nervous as fuck, butterflies are going on nonstop in my stomach. I close the shop at four, an hour early for a Saturday. I head upstairs, feeding the animals before locking myself in the bathroom. I don't have time for a ritual bath, but a blessed shower seems like a good idea. I carve a protection rune in my homemade rose soap with the point of my thumbnail. Selecting my favourite jar of shower scrub I set it on my shower shelf, and soon rose shampoo and conditioner join the scrub, and finally a bergamot, sandalwood and vanilla shower oil. I light my pillar candles around the room and select some Suki Waterhouse. 

I run the shower boiling and step in, letting the hard jets of hot water undo some tension in my back. I shampoo my hair and leave the conditioner to infuse into my thick curls, I lather up the runed soap in my hand and slowly rub the suds into my skin, paying close attention to the idea of protection, thanking protection figures for keeping me safe thus far. I scoop out a handful of the rose and pink Himalayan scrub and try to envision the date. I try to do this calmly as I ignore the racing of my heart at the thought of Eddie, I focus on scrubbing slow circles into my skin, leaving it smooth. The shower oil is next, as soon as I open it the familiar scent fills my nose and I actually say "mmm" out loud, holding it closer to my now and inhaling deeply. The smell is sweet, musky and so seductive. I cover myself in the oil, letting it sink into my skin as I wash the conditioner from my hair. I use my fingers to brush out any tangles. 

Wrapping myself in the fluffy bath sheet, I feel a lot better. Eddie had offered to pick me up but I said I'd meet him at the restaurant, I was still on guard and I didn't want to invite him near my space yet. 

Yet. 

Shut up brain.

I feel floaty as I make my way to my room, the outfit I'd woken up two hours earlier this morning, whilst on facetime to Stella, to choose was hanging on the wardrobe door. I sit on the floor in front of my mirror and find myself, without any real thought, closing my eyes, picturing a large, icy glass of double rum and coke and I wave my hand. I hear noises in the kitchen as the drink fixes itself as I spread primer on my face and soon the glass is floating into my room, Elphaba following behind, an evil glint in her eye as she pounces up, trying to knock it. 

"Don't be a dick," I mutter, clicking at her with one hand as I take the glass from the air with the other.

I go for a pale pink eyeshadow, huge winged liner and a well-sculpted face, finished off with gold highlighter on my cheekbones, end of my nose and corners of my eyes. I adorn my usual lashes and begin to dress. 

I'd let Stella choose for me in the end and I was a huge fan of her choice. The black wrap dress sinched me at the waist perfectly and showed just enough leg and boob that it would be classy enough for the posh restaurant and sexy enough for the date. We went with my pink patent, chunky platform heels and I layered on my jewellery - purposefully leaving the anti-vamp necklace off. I find myself stopping and holding it, looking at the red garnet, turning it over in my hands, and watching the light glint off it. I take a deep breath before stuffing it in my drawer.

"Wish good mumma luck," I call behind me to the animals, and I can almost feel the judgement from Elphaba. 

[haoshines]

moon song

You’re sick, and you’re married, and you might be dying—but you’re holding me like water in your hands.

Or, hopeless romantic Junhui can’t get his best friend’s husband out of his head.

Rating: Mature Relationship: Junhui/Minghao Tags: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Pining, Angst, Unrequited Love, Minor Violence, Alcohol, Infidelity, Abusive Relationships, Flashbacks Word Count: 4k

read on ao3

Today.

Junhui is someone who values his composure. Even in the most trying of times, he prides himself on being someone who can keep a cool head about things—at least on the surface. Thus, it is very unlike Junhui to let rage overtake him to the point where he might commit a violent act of vandalism.

Still, in the bathroom at this wedding venue he did, and he has the large crack running up the side of the mirror and a gash in his knuckle to show for it.

Junhui sucks air through his teeth, quickly flicking the faucet on and running his hand under it until the water starts to run a deep crimson. He shuts the water off, shaking the droplets off his hand and frantically reaching for a towel to press to the spot and will it to stop gushing. He curses through his teeth when he sees the two spots of red that somehow made their way to the pristine white fabric of his best dress shirt—hopefully his suit jacket should be enough to hide it.

His hand hurts like hell, sure, but it’s not the cut making Junhui’s breathing labored or having him see red to the point he has to steady himself against the sink. He’s been at this damn wedding for three hours now, with only a few to go—but he’s not sure how much more of it he can take.

After some deep breathing and when the bleeding has stopped, Junhui finally pushes open the bathroom door and returns to the large reception hall overflowing with music, chatter and the fragrant aroma of the multi-million won buffet on the far end of the room. With quicker steps than need be he returns to the large round table where their entire friend group had been seated during the meal before most of the group got up to dance and socialize—now, only Seokmin and Jeonghan remain, chatting between themselves.

“Ah, Junnie,” Jeonghan greets, patting Junhui on the back as he settles back into his seat. “I was just telling Seokmin that we should blow this joint. What do you say?”

“I said no,” Seokmin interjects, bringing his glass of champagne to his lips. Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“We haven’t even said hello,” Junhui mutters, eyes scanning the cavernous room filled with people he doesn’t recognize. Family members, mostly, he guesses. The grooms are nowhere to be seen, probably greeting each table one by one.

Jeonghan makes a sound of annoyance, before shrugging and asking Seokmin a question about his work. As Seokmin delves into a rant on something Junhui couldn’t care less about, he gazes about the room.

In a word, the wedding decorations are opulent, which Junhui could have expected. Every table is outfitted with a centerpiece of bouquets interspersed with gray and gold accoutrement; strings of lightbulbs line the ceiling like stars in the sky; and the walls are lined with hand-lit candles, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. It’s gorgeous, and it makes Junhui want to grit his teeth and scream.

“Hey, Wonwoo!” Jeonghan calls suddenly, grabbing the attention of their old friend who just appeared near their table. He smiles warmly at the three of them, approaching the table and reaching out to shake each of their hands.

There’s an obvious hesitancy when he reaches Junhui, who swears he sees Wonwoo’s expression grow solemn for a half-second before grabbing his outreached hand and shaking it firmly, twice.

“Jun,” he greets flatly. Junhui only nods.

“Where’s your husband gone off to?” Seokmin teases, prodding Wonwoo in the leg and causing him to flinch. “Wow, that’s crazy—you guys are married! God, we’re getting old.”

Wonwoo laughs quietly, folding his hands. “I don’t know, actually—he was just with me a second ago.”

“We’re thinking of hitting the club after this,” Jeonghan informs, while Seokmin shakes his head. “For old times’ sake, you know. Are you busy? Wanna come?”

“Actually, I—yeah, I have plans,” Wonwoo laughs, eyes darting among the nearby crowd. Junhui notices, at least, when Wonwoo’s eyes light up at the sight of what he must have been looking for. Junhui follows his eyeline to see Minghao, emerging from behind a nearby group of wedding-goers. 

Junhui’s stomach drops, and he fears he might pass out when Minghao finally meets his gaze. The expression he makes is unreadable.

He looks gorgeous, and he has every time Junhui’s seen him so far tonight.

Now, though, with Minghao’s eyes on his and with Wonwoo right there, Junhui wonders if he’s even going to make it out of here alive.

Minghao looks away quickly, greeting Jeonghan and Seokmin happily with friendly handshakes. When he gets closer to Junhui, he only smiles flatly before shuffling himself next to Wonwoo and hooking his arm around his. He’s so close, close enough to touch, and Junhui can’t look away and he knows Wonwoo notices.

“Yeah, we’re flying out to Japan early tomorrow morning,” Wonwoo explains, glancing at his husband on his arm. “So—no late night partying tonight, sorry.”

Naturally, Jeonghan begins protesting—much to Seokmin’s dismay—thoroughly distracting Wonwoo enough for Minghao to look back at Junhui. Junhui’s heart skips when Minghao’s eyes land on him again, slowly drifting down his body. Junhui’s brow furrows slightly in confusion, because what the hell is he trying to look at before he realizes Minghao’s eyes are fixed on the two spots of blood on Junhui’s shirt sleeve.

Quickly, Junhui tugs his jacket over the spots, gnawing the inside of his cheek while Minghao makes an expression as if to ask “What happened?” Junhui swallows harshly, eyes averting.

“Well,” Wonwoo says, bringing his hand to the small of Minghao’s back. “We better be going. Thank you all, again, for coming. Let’s catch up soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Junhui blurts, and because it’s the first thing he’s said over this interaction all eyes fall on him. He blinks a few times. “Yeah, let’s—we should all catch up soon, I agree.”

Wonwoo nods, lips pressed as he turns and guides Minghao away from the table.

Even when Wonwoo and Minghao are long gone, Jeonghan and Seokmin still sit in silence. They share a glance, and Jeonghan turns to speak to Junhui. He opens his mouth, but before he can make a sound Junhui stands, letting his chair get pushed back with a clatter. Searching for the words, he shakes his hand at Jeonghan and Seokmin, concerned expressions on their faces.

“Don’t,” he says shortly. “Don’t—you don’t have to say anything.”

With that, Junhui turns on his heels and hurries out of the reception hall.

Seven Years Ago.

“I’m Xu Minghao.”

The boy standing in front of the blackboard bows deeply. When his head is down, a number of students in the class snicker—maybe it’s at his formality, or maybe it’s at the thick accent coating his words. It’s not easy being the new student, Junhui knows well; it took this school long enough to warm up to him last year.

Either way, Wonwoo is laughing so Junhui shoves his heel into his best friend’s leg, willing him to shut up.

Even if Junhui didn’t think that Minghao was the most beautiful person he’s seen in his life, turning his cheeks a rosy pink and making him unable to keep his eyes on the front of the room, kicking Wonwoo would still have been the right thing to do as a fellow classmate to this boy.

“Nice to meet you,” the class says as a unit, monotonous. Minghao manages a crooked smile.

“Um—Myungho,” the teacher starts, eyes scanning the room for open seats before extending the pen in her hand toward the back of the room. “How about you sit there with Wonwoo and Junhwi?”

Minghao nods tersely, making his way to the back of the classroom and taking the empty seat on the other side of Wonwoo. 

The teacher claps her hands at that, going to jot the agenda on the chalkboard. Junhui glances over at Minghao, noting the nervous expression painting his face. Quickly, he takes the opportunity of their teacher’s back being turned to rip a corner out of his notebook paper, jotting down a message.

我会说中文

He nudges Wonwoo in the side, nodding toward Minghao when he gets his attention. Wonwoo takes the note in hand without a question and slides it across the table to their new classmate.

Minghao picks up the note, turning it over in his hand before unfolding it.

He reads the words, once and again before a small smile itches at the corners of his mouth.

He looks up at Junhui, who’s had his eyes on him the entire time, and smiles.

Later that day, Junhui and Wonwoo are in Wonwoo’s bedroom going over notes for their math examination.

“That new kid,” Wonwoo starts, kicking one leg over the other where he sits on the bed. “What do you think of him?”

Junhui shrugs. “He didn’t say much of anything to me.”

He didn’t, it’s true. After he gave him the note, Minghao hadn’t said a word to Junhui for the rest of the day as Junhui had hoped would happen. Maybe if he had just been more forward, if he had written something else—

“What was in that note?”

“The—note?”

“The one I passed for you.”

“Oh,” Junhui says, gnawing the eraser of his pencil. “Just telling him I could speak Chinese, too.”

Junhui’s mind wanders to their new classmate. Aside from his feeble disposition he just seems so shy, too shy to really have made an impression on anyone on his first day at their high school—but there is something about him that makes Junhui think they could be good friends.

It’s probably just that they’re both Chinese.

“He’s so adorable,” Wonwoo sighs, laying back on the bed. Junhui’s eyes widen. 

“You were… laughing at him, though.”

“I was watching the way he was taking notes during class,” Wonwoo explains, lifting his arms up in the air and interlocking his fingers. He cracks his knuckles. “He was so focused in, his tongue kind of stuck out of his mouth… and his Korean was so cute.”

“Cute?”

“Yeah. Adorable.”

The next day, Wonwoo invites Minghao to sit with them by the football field during lunch.

Minghao is tentative when he arrives, clearly—so small with his boxed lunch in hand, he sits down on the grass and folds his legs all while keeping a safe distance between himself and Wonwoo and Junhui.

They sit in silence for a while, Junhui not knowing why, exactly, Wonwoo had invited Minghao until Wonwoo takes a piece of meat from his own lunch in his chopsticks.

With a smile, he drops the piece on top of Minghao’s rice.

“For you,” he says shortly. Minghao blushes, looking away from the two of them at a spot on the ground.

Minghao continues eating lunch with the two of them, and as Junhui had suspected, he begins to open up as the school year plays out. He’s from Liaoning, Junhui learns. He’s a Scorpio. For fun, he likes to dance.

Junhui realizes on a day that Wonwoo is absent from school and it’s just him and Minghao, sitting awkwardly without the more confident, more sure-of-himself Wonwoo to direct the conversation that he is smitten with this boy. 

After a long bout of sitting in the warm spring air in silence, Minghao suddenly drops a piece of meat from his own meal onto Junhui’s.

“For you,” he says flatly, eyes averted. Junhui’s face flushes, mouth dropped open as the realization hits him.

His heart flutters with every minute movement of Minghao’s wrist, with the way his eyes turn up when he smiles and the laughter— God, his laughter could cure disease, the way it bounces into the air and makes the sun shine over Junhui’s head.

All he has in common with Minghao, though, is that they’re both from China—this, Wonwoo has reminded Junhui profusely. Minghao has much more in common with Wonwoo. They both love to read.  They both understand other people so naturally, in a way Junhui could never understand. They both have a quiet appreciation for the world around them—where Wonwoo and Minghao are calm and collected, Junhui is abrasive and loud-mouthed.

There are so many arguments Wonwoo makes that Junhui just can’t fight, so he doesn’t. The last thing he wants is a sore spot between the first person who accepted him as a friend when he moved to Korea in middle school. Wonwoo obviously likes Minghao, so Junhui gives up. He’s kept secrets before—this is no different.

For the next two years, Junhui watches the object of his affection fall in love with his best friend. It hurts worse than any pain Junhui’s felt in his short life, and sometimes he wonders how he’ll go on living.

For better or worse, he does.

Two Years Ago.

“Junnie-ah,” Jeonghan drawls, draping himself of Junhui as he sways to the sound of the eardrum-bursting music. “Come dance with us!”

“I’d rather not,” Jun mumbles, fingers gripping the glass of water in his hand tight. Maybe if he hadn’t failed his literature midterm today and maybe if the weather had been nice rather than rainy and maybe if he didn’t have a high-definition image of Minghao grinding on Wonwoo a few meters away from him on the club dance floor—then, maybe he’d be in the mood to dance. Unfortunately, he is not.

Curious at what’s bringing his usually energetic friend down, Jeonghan follows Junhui’s eyeline to the couple. His lips press flat, looking back at Wonwoo.

“I’m buying us shots,” Jeonghan asserts, leaning closer to Junhui’s ear. “We’re gonna get you messed up, ‘kay?”

Junhui licks his lips, unsure before deciding quickly that hell— what does he have to lose?

Jeonghan takes him by the wrist and drags him toward the bar, waving for Seokmin to join the two of them when they pass him a few meters away.

Jeonghan orders three shots of some top-shelf thing that he definitely can’t afford, and without a second thought Junhui takes his small glass in hand as soon as the bartender places them before the three of them. Jeonghan and Seokmin can barely shout “Cheers” before the liquid is burning Junhui’s throat raw and the glass is back on the counter.

The first shot was Jeonghan’s idea. The second, third and fourth were on Junhui’s own accord—the fifth one, Junhui couldn’t be sure, but most likely had been his own idea, as well.

There comes a point when Junhui’s stumbling about on the dance floor with Jeonghan and Seokmin that he knows he’s too far gone. 

Somehow, Junhui finds himself slumped against the vinyl of a booth along the back wall of the club, hands clutching his head as he begs it to stop spinning.

The music is too loud and Junhui needs to leave—but, fuck, where would he go? Chances are he’d probably get lost, or kidnapped, or something on the way home. The best plan would be to stay and wait to go back to campus with his friends, none of whom he can see from where he’s sitting.

The panic starts quickly. This day has been absolutely awful, and he curses himself a few hours ago for thinking that alcohol could fix that. Junhui also curses his literature professor, he curses the weather for being the way it is, and he curses Minghao to the lowest circle of hell for picking Wonwoo over him.

It’s been so long, a still-rational part of Junhui’s mind reminds him. It’s been so long and he needs to get over it.

But he doesn’t want to get over it. If he did, he would have done so a long time ago and spared himself years of sleepless nights and tearful fits of frustration and so, so much fruitless pining.

Then, Jeonghan is there next to him, sliding into the booth donning a concerned look because Junhui is crying and he’s not sure when it started.

“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan asks, panicked yet when Junhui doesn’t even acknowledge him. Jeonghan shakes him gently. “Junnie, what—are you going to be sick? Why are you crying?”

Jeonghan asks, but he knows. He’s been with Junhui on days that were harder than others. Junhui doesn’t need to say anything for Jeonghan to decide that now is the time to do what he’s been planning to do for the sake of his friend.

Without a word, Jeonghan stands and doesn’t return.

Junhui is alone for a little, he can’t be sure how long—before someone slides themselves next to him in the booth.

Junhui, his face buried in his hands, doesn’t look up as he says “Jeonghan, please just—”

“It’s me,” they say quietly. Junhui freezes in shock, his entire body tense because only one person would be speaking to him in Chinese.

He looks up and sure enough it is Minghao, his expression a mixture of softness and concern. Junhui frowns.

“Please don’t cry,” Minghao says, bringing a hand to Junhui’s back and rubbing the spot gently. “I—Jeonghan told me you were upset.”

Junhui swallows harshly, considering his words for a moment and going to speak before Minghao cuts him off.

“I’d be an idiot not to have known,” Minghao starts, laughing slightly. “I mean—I think I’ve known since that, uh… the note.”

Junhui is quiet, eyes scanning Minghao’s features.

“You know I’ve always liked you, right?”

“You—”

“Yes.”

Junhui’s known Minghao for a long time so he can tell that it’s true. There’s a reason he’s never said it, of course—likely the same reason every word he’s said since he’s sat down has been just slightly under his breath and incredibly hurried.

He doesn’t have much time now and he may never get the chance again, so Junhui throws caution to the wind and closes the space between them. When their lips meet every pain Junhui’s felt in the last five years subsides and it’s just Minghao, wholly and all-encompassingly. Minghao doesn’t stop him as a small part of Junhui had feared. In fact, he brings a hand to Junhui’s shoulder, snaking it around the back of his neck to hold him steady as their lips move together.

Eventually Junhui pulls away until their lips are only barely touching, inhaling Minghao’s warm breath. He pulls back, examining Minghao’s expression—his wide eyes, his lips glossy with saliva. Minghao is silent, and though Junhui is too, his mind races with questions of where they could possibly go from here.

Those questions subside quickly when Junhui’s eyes land on Wonwoo where he stands on the edge of the dance floor a few meters away, frozen in place. Before Junhui can try to say anything—what would he even say, anyway—Wonwoo is storming over, shoving Minghao out of the way so he can grip Junhui’s collar in his fist. With a grunt, Junhui is jerked out of the booth until he’s standing.

The upbeat dance music still pounds in their ears and warm bodies on the dance floor still move and shout to the song, but to Wonwoo and Junhui, still in his grasp, the room is silent—save for their heavy panting and the unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wonwoo snaps, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. Junhui bites the inside of his cheek, brow furrowed.

“I—”

“What the fuck are you doing?” he repeats, releasing Junhui from his grasp violently, sending Junhui stumbling. Minghao hurries to stand from the booth, putting his smaller body between the two.

“Baby, Wonwoo—you’re drunk,” he tries, putting a hand on Wonwoo’s chest. Wonwoo shakes him off, pointing an agitated finger at him.

“Don’t you say a word,” he mutters, nodding toward the entrance of the club. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Wonwoo—”

“Did you not hear me? Outside.”

Minghao doesn’t respond. He looks on at Wonwoo with an expression Junhui can’t place—something close to fear. Surely he’d be fearful seeing his partner so suddenly violent, even after being provoked in the way he was; but Minghao’s expression doesn’t read as surprised in any sense. Junhui’s stomach twists into a knot at the implication.

Minghao glances at Junhui, lips pressed flat before heeding Wonwoo’s command and leaving. Junhui’s heart shatters as he watches Minghao go for what he’s sure will be the last time.

Wonwoo turns back to Junhui, examining his terrified expression and heaving chest.

Junhui hopes the look in his eyes is him remembering the years they’ve been together, the years they’ve been each other’s closest friends.

Maybe he’s remembering the day Junhui arrived in Korea. He was quite meek, still unsure of himself in so many ways. 

He probably looked a lot like he does right now.

Without a word, Wonwoo reels back and hits Junhui square in the jaw with his fist, sending drunken Junhui stumbling to the ground. He falls on his side with a pained groan, the metallic taste of blood and his spinning, blurry vision both overpowering his senses.

It’s unnecessary for him to do it, but Wonwoo still decides to deliver a firm kick to Junhui’s stomach. Junhui hacks a cough, his breathing shallow from the impact.

Wonwoo squats down, closer to eye-level.

“Goodbye, Junhui,” he says quietly, hinting at teasing. “Go fuck yourself.”

Junhui stays still, lying there on the disgusting floor of the club still reeling from the pain.

The punch and the kick are another thing entirely.

Yesterday.

Minghao is not the same person he was when he was fifteen, and to that point, he’s hardly the same person he was two years ago—the last time Junhui laid eyes on him.

Standing on Junhui’s front step, shivering in the December snow, he looks downright pitiful—his eyes sunken in, his body appearing much frailer than it once was. His hair is a bit longer now, too, clearly having been recently cut.

It makes sense, Junhui figures. He is getting married tomorrow, after all—which only deepens the guilt Junhui is feeling for picking up that phone call a few hours ago.

Regardless, Minghao is here, at Junhui’s house. He motions for him to come inside, shutting the cold night out behind him.

Under the light of the entryway Junhui can see his eyes are red and puffy, and his cheeks are stained red from a mixture of tears and the cold he likely walked in to get here.

He takes Minghao’s jacket in hand, and before he can do anything with it and before either of them spares even a word Minghao wraps himself around Junhui, pressing his face into the fabric of his shirt.

Junhui is still for a moment in shock at this touch that is so foreign to him, this body that is so cold and feels hollow to the touch. Minghao squeezes him tighter yet and Junhui concedes, letting the jacket fall to the floor and wrapping his arms around him.

He holds him like that for a long moment, standing in the middle of the entryway. Minghao doesn’t say a word and he doesn’t need to.

Minghao pulls away slightly, looking up at Junhui with an unreadable expression.

“Can I stay here?” he asks quietly, his tone feeble. Junhui only nods. He goes ahead of Minghao to the bedroom, pulling out a pair of clean, dry clothes for Minghao to change into before getting settled. He leaves the room for a moment, eventually returning to the bedroom to find Minghao laying in his bed, eyes fixed on the snow falling outside the window.

Junhui crawls in next to him, keeping a tentative distance. He doesn’t touch him, it’s Minghao’s call. Junhui doesn’t stop him, though, when Minghao situates his body next to his, resting his head on Junhui’s chest.

He knows that Minghao will go back to Wonwoo in the morning. He knows that they will get married and that there’s not much he can do.

For now, he can watch him long after he’s fallen asleep and his breathing has grown slower. In a deep part of his mind he wonders what it would be like to wake up like this every single day for the rest of their lives—but quickly realizes there’s no point in dwelling, in torturing himself with questions of ‘what if.’ 

Maybe one day it could work out. Maybe, one day Minghao could be his—but he won’t be. Not in this life, and not now.

Junhui lets his eyes fall shut, his breathing soon falling in time with Minghao’s. 

For now, it’s enough.

[tileregrouting]

Why You Should Consider Professional Tile Regrouting Services in Sydney

Tile regrouting as a process does not get the attention it should despite being important for the aesthetic and functional look of tiled surfaces in . It is a welcome relief for Sydney homeowners that there are tile regrouting services that can be of great help for them that can bring about a lot of helpful changes that do not only entail aesthetic enhancement. Below is a guide why you should opt for professional tile regrouting services for your residential place.

Improvement of the Aesthetics and New Look

 The main benefit of tile regrouting is the remodelling of the outlook of the home that comes with professional regrouting of tiles. Years pass which of course stains, discolours or even cracks grout because of general wear and tear. This can give the most attractive tile a ragged and old appearance even if it was installed a short while back. Hire professional regrouting service providers to help you enhance the appearance of your tiles by having new and better looking grout. This does not only enhance the appearance of the floors and the walls but also helps to make them look new and in better order.

Better Bathroom Hygiene and Minimising Mould Formation

 The grout is typically permeable, and it can easily soak moisture and becomes a popular place for mould and mildew, particularly where humidity levels are high such as the washrooms and kitchen. This in the long run causes unpleasant smell and health complications to those who use the toilets. When looking for professional regrouting Sydney, residents should choose high quality mould resistant grout that minimises the ability of moisture accumulation thus preventing the formation of mould. In this way, with the normal and adequate reaction to the grout issues, you will guarantee a cleaner and more sanitary living space for you and your family.

Prevention of Further Damage

 If this problem is left untreated other issues such as water damage or a structural problem can occur. When the grout dries, it creates small channels where water can flow under the tiles hence demoralising the adhesive and thus the tiles tend to become free. Professional tile regrouting successfully eliminates such problems because it makes sure that the grout is well placed as well as well covered. This is quite preventive in nature that can help you to prevent damages that may require repair of the tiled surface and enable the tiled surface to last longer.

Increased Property Value

 Clean mosaics and fresh-looking grout will give the house a face lift hence improving the market value of the house. It will be shocking to find that prospective buyers are most probably going to take note of the cleanliness of tiles and grout which can influence the impression of the house they are going to buy. If you decide to hire a professional to service your tiles through re-grouting, (and this will not take long to do so) you are not just enhancing the beautification part of the house or any place for that matter but you are also making the place attractive to those who might want to buy it.

Time and Cost Efficiency

 There are actually many problems associated with DIY regrouting, including the fact that despite the fact that it may be done independently, and therefore seems to be a very cheap method, it consumes a lot of time and patience, and the results achieved are not always good. Professional tile regrouting services on the other hand are done by a team of technicians who have the technical knowledge and the right tools to do the job in the right manner. The implication of this is that one can get back good results provided by a good professional yet without stress of having to do it herself. Also, the services are usually faster, and this ensures that one will not have to disrupt his or her daily working schedule frequently.

Customization and Expertise

 Professional tile regrouting services also tend to be customizable to a considerable extent. Whether in an attempt to restore the tiles and the existing grout colour or insistent on getting a new colour to blend with your walls or floors, there are people who can advise and guarantee a satisfactory result. They have created a foundation that enables them to work with tiles and grout of all sorts and provide the best finished product.

Long-Lasting Results

 Since you’re hiring tile regrouting services, one advantage is that one gets to use the best quality materials and methods that guarantee a longevity of work. Specialists apply the hydraulic cement that is more resistant and utilises techniques that would increase bonding and protect against wearing down. This way, your grout will remain clean and pristine for a long time and therefore give you the value for your money.

Regrouting tiles is not just about changing the face of your floor, but it is also the process of renewing your home’s and tiles value. To Sydney homeowners, regrouting of tiles has the following benefits; it provides the place with a better look, clean, valuable and more importantly it’s cheaper having someone professional do the job for you. Through investing in professional regrouting, it is assured that the tiles run in its optimal quality and aesthetics that pass on the clean, appealing and solid area for many years to come.

For more info visit here:- grout repair

bathroom regrouting

[sterloc]

Personal Hygiene: What You Must Know! 

From taking a shower daily and washing our hands frequently to following essential toilet hygiene practices, we all are constantly and naturally involved in personal hygiene activities. It is a part of our lives that contributes to making us feel fresh, confident, and ready to take on the world. Maintaining personal hygiene also helps keep us free from germs, infections, and illness, thereby ensuring we’re healthy.   

It might not be necessary to define personal hygiene since we have all been used to it since our childhood. But personal hygiene is actually more than what we simply do. It is an umbrella term that covers a number of aspects. Each one of them is crucial in order to ensure holistic wellness.   

In this blog, we will talk about the two most important areas of hygiene – Hand hygiene and toilet hygiene. They are usually considered the easiest route for germs to enter our bodies. Thus, it becomes essential to maintain proper hygiene in these two areas. We will also recommend some insightful books on hygiene to help you read more about how to keep your hygiene regimen at its best.   

Hand Hygiene  

Hand hygiene is one of the most important parts of personal hygiene. Our hands touch several surfaces and become an easy pathway for germs to travel. Keeping them clean is an effective and useful way to prevent the spread of germs and infections at their core. Here are the simple steps of hand hygiene:  

Wet your hands with clean, running water.  

Then, lather them using soap, covering all surfaces.  

Scrub your hands (at least 20 seconds).  

Rinse them properly under clean, running water.  

Lastly, dry them with a clean towel or air dry them. Avoid touching surfaces immediately after drying to prevent recontamination.  

In addition to this routine, using hand sanitizers can also be a convenient alternative when soap and water are not available. You can choose an alcohol-free hand sanitizer like Sterloc that is not harmful to your skin.   

Toilet Hygiene  

Public restrooms and even home bathrooms can harbor a multitude of germs and bacteria. So, it is essential to keep   

Consider using a toilet seat sanitizer spray or wipe before sitting to kill harmful bacteria.  

Always flush the toilet after use to prevent the spread of germs. Use your foot or a tissue to flush if you can't avoid touching the handle.  

After using the toilet, make sure you wash your hands with soap and water following the steps given above. You can also use an alcohol-free hand sanitizer if soap and water are unavailable. 

Dispose of feminine hygiene products, toilet paper, and waste properly in the toilet or designated bins.  

Regularly clean and disinfect your bathroom, focusing on the toilet seat, handle, and surrounding areas to prevent germ buildup.  

Books on Hygiene for Adults  

For those interested in deepening their understanding of hygiene and incorporating best practices into their daily routines, there are several excellent books on hygiene for adults. These resources offer valuable insights into the importance of hygiene and practical tips for maintaining it. Here are some highly recommended books:  

"The Germ Code" - Jason Tetro  

"Clean: The New Science of Skin" - James Hamblin  

"The Art of Clean Up: Life Made Neat and Tidy" - Ursus Wehrli  

"How to Be a Hygienic Human: 30 Days to a Cleaner, Healthier You" - John Smith  

Final Word 

Maintaining good personal hygiene is essential for good health as well as solid self-esteem. By understanding the crucial areas of sanitization and using safe products like Sterloc, you can significantly improve your cleanliness habits. Remember, good hygiene is not just about preventing illness; it's about fostering a lifestyle that promotes health, comfort, and self-respect.

[ericaportfolio]

Oh, I can see that taunting about the water gun going down with Nick trying to get the jokesters to stop, only for everyone to grow terrified and scream, "RUN AWAY!" I think Virginia reveals this in the season prior. Both Virginia and Nick find ways to relate to what they went through. Although I can see at the end of that episode after the reveal Nick and Riley are both sick in the bathroom vowing not to talk about almost not being born, or worst, actually being blood siblings. But Virginia probably didn't think she would see him again until she saw her daughter on TV fighting against Francis's runaway son without having a healthy coworker conversation. I think she waited for them to have that "Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better" in that first season to see what happens. Unfortunately for everyone, Francis is the closest being like Mortimer from the actual games where he knows how to play his cards right since he has also been studying every single episode writing every detail of everyone's weaknesses. Thus why temping Scout with glitz and glamor but underestimated her personality and luck streak and caught onto the cheating in the pinball tournament. But for everyone else, nobody is safe from Francis. If everything hits the fan where lives like Riley's are in danger, Francis better learns to never mess with someone with the last name of Ruckus. One way or another for Francis and his mob…

TW: For references/mentions of abuse. You all are going to hate this character.

After some of the last crazy few weeks, I finally finished another character sheet based on the art from the Hello Puppets games with another OC I created if the show did not get canceled, no fire, and no possessed murder puppets ever happened. This character was created when the Lackadaisy Pilot came out, but I added some Helluva Boss (don't watch the show if you are under 18 kids, please wait) mafia episode influences.

On the outside, Francis Nack, Father of Nick Nack, runs an Arcade Casino in one of the cities near the town the Handeemen lives. But in reality, Francis is the French Mob Boss and uses his Arcade Casino as a coverup for a money racketeering scheme. Sadly, after years of emotional and physical abuse, when Nick was about to turn 18 in a month, he was secretly approached by a banker who was hired by his missing mother, Jancis, years ago to give Nick his inheritance from her to use if he wanted to get away from the crime family and use that money for anything he wants to pursue. Obviously, Nick took the money, went to an art college, and years later joined the newly formed Handeemen group that later became a show. Blessing or a curse, on the premiere episode of Season 3, when the Handeemen accepted an offer to help a kid win a pinball tournament, they are suddenly picked up by a mysterious luxurious travel escort transportation. To Nick's (even Virginia's) dismay, it turned out that the pinball tournament was taking place at the same Arcade Casino with Francis waiting for them. As Francis's premiere episode progresses, his intentions are made clear becoming the main antagonist for Season 3. Yep, Season 3 became a French parody of The Godfather.

Historically, the law chased the Mafia out of Las Vegas during the Mid-1980s. Whoever got the character approved by the censors must have been the many therapists at the time when PSA episodes really started to kick in the late 1980s/early 1990s to spread awareness of child abuse because the Handeemen fandom was theorizing if Nick came from an abusive home, but nobody was expecting The Godfather route. So what better way to bring awareness than by making the abuser the main antagonist for the season. Francis is literally the French version of The Godfather. Along with Lackadaisy and Helluva Boss, his biggest inspiration came from the 2003 French animated comedy, The Triplets of Belleville, which is a CLASSIC!!! Though be warned of mature content in the film since the movie is for audiences thirteen and up. The mafia in that film is similar to the Nack Mob in this AU. Like father like son, they are almost alike, except for height and Francis is commonly nicknamed Scarface for his scar. Francis originally had Brown Hair that faded over time. To get the season approved by the producers and the censors, instead of having a regular Casino as a backdrop, they instead went with an Arcade Casino with arcade games, pinballs, and fair games in a classic Las Vegas-like setting.

Nick's mom, Jancis Nack, was a mixture of Riley and Daisy with Audrey Hepburn influences. Speaking of Daisy, Jancis's hair was inspired by Daisy's blueprints from the Hello Puppets games. Nick's mom's disappearance becomes one of the biggest mysteries in the show, some thinking Francis had something to do with it. So yeah, Nick has 🎵 parent/daddy issues🎵 everybody!