#hopefully a lot less stressful to set up

[buglaur]

THE NEW AVATAR 🧎‍♀️

here he is in hd!! i'm def gonna have to do a separate gameplay for him because virgil's gonna be nowhere near having kids by july 20 😭

you'll be seeing a lot more of him!! 💞💞💞

[covenofagatha]

hiiii <33

Could you write something about Agatha being a little insecure about being older than the reader?

Maybe they're at a party and someone the reader's age is going to talk to her and Agatha feels jealous and a little insecure, but pretend not to feel anything?

Then they go home and the reader shows Agatha that she loves her more than anything :)

If it's not too much to ask, the reader could have an obsession with Agatha's breasts and... really like eating her out? (like, a *really* big obsession) (sorry, Mrs Fletcher is on my mind a lot lately)

sorry for the details, lol, this came to me in the middle of the night

and by the way, I love your writing <33 you write very well

and I'm looking forward to the but you are my stepmother update :D

kisseess <3

I may have changed the setting a little bit (I've been watching Succession and was influenced lol) but hopefully you like! Also, Mrs. Fletcher literally changed my life so I completely understand

I combined this one with another request for being obsessed with Agatha’s breasts

Happy New Year to everyone!

Glitter on the floor

When Agatha gets jealous at the company New Year's Eve party, you remind her that she has nothing to worry about

Word count: 4300

Warnings: oral sex, oral fixation, breast fixation, marking

“Do you think anyone would notice if we just leave before the party even starts?” You ask, throwing a stress ball up in the air and catching it without even looking. 

You’re laying on your back on the couch in Agatha’s office and she snorts from her seat at her desk. 

Unlike you, when Agatha said she was going up to her office to quickly read over a contract before the company New Year’s Eve party, she meant it. You had just followed her up here to see if she was willing to get up to any funny business. 

“You don’t think they would notice that the CEO and General Counsel of the company aren’t at the company party?” Agatha asks amusedly, sarcasm dripping from her tone. 

Spellbound Network is a multi-billion dollar news conglomerate that Agatha Harkness is the Chief Executive Officer of. She’s absolutely ruthless and doesn’t hesitate before tearing anybody and everybody down. Nothing will stand in her way of world domination. 

As General Counsel, you’re a little less important, but you know that Agatha is right. The last thing you need is people speculating. 

The two of you have been involved in a more than professional relationship for seven months now. It all started when you offered to stay late to help her finish up with some end-of-quarterly reviews before the deadline and the two of you had ended up going out for drinks when you had finally finished. Agatha had let her hair down and told you just how stressed she was, and you had stupidly told her that you could help her relieve some of that stress. 

She had raised an eyebrow and you had taken it as a challenge. The next thing you knew, she was calling a car and the two of you were making out in the backseat on the way to her penthouse. 

It had grown into a relationship, a relationship that no one else in the office knew about. Things were getting pretty serious, and Agatha had even brought up you moving in with her. 

But you roll your eyes anyway. “It’ll be boring,” you drag out the last word slowly, sitting up to face her. “Wouldn’t you rather go back to your place, or even just stay up here?” You give her an impish grin and a wink. 

It’s a lost cause. Agatha has never let you touch her nor has she touched you in the office. 

She fixes you with a glare. “If you’re not going to behave, you can go downstairs and help set up for the party.” 

You hum in acquiescence and you’re about to resume your position on your back when Agatha leans forward and props herself up on her elbows, pushing her visible cleavage together. 

Your mouth runs dry. She’s wearing a long black dress with a low neckline that puts her breasts — that you may or may not be obsessed with — very much on display. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did it to tease you. 

“Agatha,” you whine, trying to sound pathetic so she’ll take pity on you. You can practically taste her skin with how badly you want her. 

She knows what you’re thinking, as always. “Stop,” she says without even looking up from her desk. “You aren’t going to goad me into touching you. Hasn’t worked any other time, isn’t going to work now.” 

You pout. “What are you talking about? I’ve never tried to.” It’s a bold-faced lie and you both know it. 

“Oh yeah?” She asks, at last looking up at you. “So when you got me that vibrator for the Secret Santa at the Christmas party, ‘not realizing that it was a public gift swap’; that wasn’t an attempt to work me up? Or when you just happen to come in here almost every day and knock over my pens so you have to bend down and shake your ass in my face?” 

You can’t help but chuckle at the reminders of your brazenness. To be fair, you had genuinely thought that the Secret Santa swap would be done in a group but then the gifts would be opened alone. And much to your surprise, you were wrong and when Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, had announced that it was time for everyone to open their gifts, you had quickly dragged Agatha upstairs, making some excuse about a phone call about a breaking news story. 

She had been furious at almost having to open your gift in front of the entire staff, and instead of having a very Merry Christmas Eve, courtesy of your generous gift and a well-placed bribe to the person who had actually drawn Agatha in the swap, she hadn’t touched you at all that night. 

But Christmas Day was much better, when she had put you on your knees for almost an hour and you made her cum four times with just your mouth. 

“You’re not letting those go anytime soon, are you?” You mutter. 

She throws a paper clip at you. “Go downstairs and stop bothering me,” she orders, fondness still in her voice. 

You huff a big sigh, one that tells her that just because you’re obeying doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, and walk over to place the paper clip and stress ball back on her desk. You straighten out your own dress, a long maroon one, and lean over to press a chaste kiss to her lips. 

To your surprise, she lets you do it and she even deepens it, flicking her tongue against the entrance to your mouth. When she pulls away, her eyes are dark and you’re about to ask her to reconsider, but she ushers you away with her hand and turns back to the contract. 

There’s not very many people in the lobby where the party is taking place, so you stand alone at a table and accept a glass of champagne from a waitress. It’s only ten pm and you know most of the staff won’t get here until closer to midnight, which would’ve been smart. 

If only Agatha hadn’t insisted that you and her come in for the entire day and get ahead of all the stuff that’s coming up in the new year. She didn’t even let you go back to your apartment once you both had finished, instead letting you shower in her private adjoining bathroom. 

And she wonders why you’re already so bored; you’ve been at the office for fourteen hours. 

Still at least two more to go. 

You take another glass of champagne and set it down next to your already half-empty glass. You’re going to need it once more people start showing up. 

It’s not that you don’t like them, it’s just that…if the building was on fire, you’d only really think or care about saving Agatha. 

“Hey there, General Counsel,” Rio says, slinking up to you. 

You smile. She’s an oddball, but her wry sense of humor sometimes is the only thing that gets you through business trips. Besides Agatha, of course. 

And it’s not exactly a secret that she has a bit of a crush on you. On paper, it would make more sense than you and Agatha. Rio is your age, and for all intents and purposes, doesn’t have any power over you, nor you her. 

But you’re in love with Agatha, and older women have always been more your type anyway. You’re perfectly happy with being friends with Rio, and it seems that Rio is content with your relationship now too. 

“Hey, Rio,” you greet, lifting your glass in a silent toast to her. She lifts up the other one and smoothly downs it in one gulp. 

And then the elevator dings and Agatha steps out and you forget all about Rio and everyone else. Your eyes follow her as she glides through the lobby, not even looking at you once, and she picks up a plate of caviar while the Chief Financial Officer, Jimmy, goes to talk to her. 

Rio taps her fingers to the rim of the empty glass. “So, I heard Harkness is thinking about acquiring Hex Industries for better tech.” 

“Water cooler gossip,” you say dismissively, not wanting to talk anymore business for the day. You’ve done enough with that with Agatha. And then you lower your voice conspiratorially. “But I did hear that Jimmy got divorced again?” 

It sends Rio into a fit of giggles and the two of you swap the details you’ve heard from various people and try to piece together what really happened. It does make the party go by faster and before you know it, there’s only about an hour before midnight. 

You cannot wait to go home with Agatha and forget all about work and this party and just focus on her. Ever since she changed into the dress she’s wearing tonight, you haven’t been able to focus with how delicious her breasts look in it. 

Some might call it an oral fixation, some might call it mommy issues, but there’s no denying how much you love to suck on her nipples. And to eat her out. 

Fuck. You can’t be thinking about that. Rio is saying something, something now about Tony, the Chief Operating Officer, and you’re shifting your weight thinking about the sounds Agatha makes when you get your mouth on her. 

You look around the room and you find her, standing alone, nursing her own glass of champagne. But what startles you is that she’s already watching you with a strange look on her face. You give her a small smile, your heart filling with adoration for the older woman, but she looks away. 

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You say to Rio, who nods. You walk over to Agatha and slide up next to her, your hand brushing against her lower back. “You okay?” You murmur into her ear. 

Agatha clears her throat and rolls her shoulders back and you have to make a pointed effort not to stare at her boobs that get pushed forward. “Just ready for this party to be over,” she says, voice clipped. 

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, cocking an eyebrow. “What do you have planned for when we get home?” 

She looks at you, finally looks at you, and you can see a guarded look in her eye. “We’ve had a long day, and this party won’t be done until after midnight. I’ll probably turn in.” 

“Oh, Mommy, your age is showing,” you tease mockingly in a hush, wearing a dramatic pout, another joke about how much older she is that she usually rolls her eyes at and then makes a comment about how much you like it.  

But she stiffens today. “Well, you’re more than welcome to go home with Rio if you want someone your own age.” The retort hits you like a punch in the gut and you’re left dumbfounded as she walks away, heels clacking on the floor. 

Is she…jealous? Surely Agatha can’t be, she knows how much you want her and love her. She knows how willing you are to show her. 

And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let you remind her right now. 

You check your watch. Forty-five minutes until midnight. You can feel her gaze from across the room, but when you try to make eye contact, she pretends like she isn’t looking at you, and you make the executive decision to try something that will probably backfire. 

Pulling out your phone, you pretend to take a call. You can feel her air shift; she knows that if someone’s calling you this late, it must be something urgent. You nod like you’re listening and then after a minute or two, you put your phone down. 

You meet her eyes and tilt your head toward the elevator, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. This could backfire. She could get so mad at you. 

But you have to try. 

Agatha excuses herself from the small group of people that have congregated around her table and she follows you into the elevator. 

“Who was that? What’s wrong?” She demands, and you almost feel bad for making her this panicked. 

You shake your head. “Just wait until we get to your office.” You think it should be a hint, but she doesn’t pick up on it. Instead, Agatha chews on her bottom lip and tosses her hair back over her shoulders. 

The doors ding open on the sixtieth floor and Agatha trails behind you, hot on your heels, as you take her to her office. You tell her to get on the couch while you draw the blinds to the glass windows facing the interior of the building, just in case anyone should happen to walk by. The television is on outside in the hallway and you can faintly hear the sounds of the New York Ball Drop show. A little over thirty minutes left. 

“What is going on?” Agatha asks again, clearly exasperated by you dragging this out. 

You turn around and almost moan at the sight of her sitting with her knees pulled up under her and her elbow propped up on the couch. This time, you really can’t help your gaze from darting down to her breasts and she snaps her fingers to get you to focus. “Rio’s just a friend,” you say bluntly, and Agatha scoffs. 

“What does this have to do with anything?” 

You slowly walk over and kneel down in front of her, pulling her legs out so that her feet are on the floor and you rest your chin on her knee and look up at her through your eyelashes. “There wasn’t a call,” you confess, already wincing on the inside at how she’s going to react. Her face remains stoic. “You were bothered by Rio and I talking.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

But Agatha jeers. “Is this your excellent counsel that I pay you so much for? That I’m bothered? Don’t think I don’t know about the little crush she has on you.” 

“So what if she has a crush? I don’t like her like that. You know I only have eyes for you,” you say, slowly inching the hem of her dress up her legs, waiting to be rejected. 

Her hand slides up your head and fastens into your hair, tilting you back so you can look straight at her. “Oh yeah?” She asks, daring, challenging you to go further. 

 You swallow hard. “Let me show you?” You offer timidly, praying it’s the right answer and you’re not reading this wrong. 

Agatha growls, a guttural noise deep in her throat, and she yanks you up and kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth and you moan at the feeling, settling into her lap with your legs on either side of hers. She tugs at your hair and the sting makes you keen, only making you need her more. 

You can’t even wait, you’ve been on edge for too long, and you trail your lips down her neck, scrape your teeth against her collarbone, and then she helps you take the straps of her dress off. 

The second her breasts are free, you’re on them like you’re starving and they’re your salvation. You cup both of them with your hands, feeling the sturdy weight of them, and you knead softly, running your thumbs over both nipples. The dusky rose color stands out against her pale skin and you watch with fascination as her nipples harden under your gentle touch. Part of you still can’t believe she’s letting you touch her in the office. 

Not that you’re complaining. 

You swoop down and take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the little bud, and Agatha’s back arches off the couch as her fingers dig into your hair to keep you there. You’ve never felt more content in your life than like this, and you happily suck on her as the most delicious sounding noises fall out of her mouth. 

Her free hand finds your hip just as your fingers tug at her nipple that isn’t being occupied by your mouth and you can make out what she wants. Without moving away from her, you shift and place a leg in-between hers, able to feel the heat radiating from her pussy through her underwear and dress. 

“Fuck,” you mutter brokenly when she grinds up against your knee and you can feel just how wet she is. 

Agatha huffs out a chuckle. “You love sucking on Mommy’s tits so much, don’t you?” She asks and you switch sides and hum against her skin. “Mommy loves it, too.” 

You groan and take a break from directly stimulating her, instead, opting to lightly bite at the skin around her nipples, taking extra care to mark the curvature under them. She’s especially sensitive there, and her little gasps only spur you on. 

After you’ve left sufficient proof that you were there, you pull back and admire your work and you sharply inhale. Her breasts are absolutely painted with red marks that will surely fade into bruises by tomorrow and her chest heaves, a ragged look in her eyes. Agatha is still undulating against your leg and you can visibly tell how turned on she is. 

“Am I convincing you yet?” You ask, your voice coming out a little hoarse, and Agatha barks out a laugh. 

Her wicked grin has a thrill running inside you and she shifts underneath you until you figure out what she is trying to do. It’s a bit awkward, but she manages to turn her body so that her legs are on the couch horizontally but you’re still on top of her. 

She hums thoughtfully. “Think I might need a little more. If you’re willing, that is.” 

Only too willing. You can’t help yourself from leaning down and giving her a hard kiss, pulling away and sucking one nipple and then the other roughly until she moans, and then you move down her body and bunch up her dress at her hips. You put your hands on her shins and guide her legs up so they’re bent, her heels on the couch. 

And then you settle between her open legs and mouth at her sopping cunt through her underwear. A groan tears out of you before you can stop it at tasting the wet fabric, thick with her scent which you’ve become addicted to. You suck on her underwear, pulling the moisture out of it, and Agatha jerks underneath you. 

“We don’t have all day, pet,” she says tightly and you can hear the television outside saying there’s fifteen minutes left until New Year’s Day. 

You chuckle at her impatience and finally pull down her underwear. You wish your dress had pockets so you could store it for later, but you made do for just throwing it somewhere in her office. 

And then you drag your tongue up her slit and absolutely lose yourself in the taste. There’s something so indistinguishable and indescribable about it, and you lazily explore her pussy, getting as much of her wetness as you can into your mouth. You vaguely realize that she’s wrapped a leg over your shoulder and her heel is digging in, the sting only turning you on more. 

Small gasps are pulled out of Agatha’s mouth and her hips buck, trying to get more stimulation, but to no avail as you are completely focused on just licking her slowly. You moan into her and the vibrations make her whimper, but you almost don’t even hear it. This is your favorite place on earth, between her legs, and you don’t want to ever leave. She’s so warm and wet and responsive against your tongue and you fucking love it. Love getting her wetness all over your face, love feeling her clench around your tongue, love the taste and smell and how she reacts when you lap at her clit. 

You do that now, and her thighs tighten around your head and she sighs like she’s finally getting some of the relief that she needs. 

“I love your pussy,” you say, but the words are garbled. She lets out a muffled sound and you look up through hooded eyes to see her head strewn back in pleasure, dark hair fanned out beneath her, bottom lip between her teeth, and her fingers tweaking her raw nipples. The sight makes you moan against her again and her hips jump. 

She looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the fire inside you only being stoked more when you realize that almost all the blue in her eyes is gone, entirely swallowed up by dark desire. “Please,” she begs, sounding more needy than she ever has since you’ve started sleeping with her. “Mommy needs this so bad.” 

And the only thing you love more than tasting her with your mouth is making her cum with your mouth. 

So you oblige, thrusting your tongue inside her and almost losing all composure when her walls flutter around it. She lets out a loud whine when your nose brushes against her clit and you keep doing that, curling your tongue inside her and moving your head up and down so she can get some desperately needed stimulation to her clit. 

“Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good,” she practically sobs, and you can feel her throb. She never takes long, which is almost a shame because you’d stay between her legs forever if you could. Building her up, feeling her legs tremble around you, that’s half the fun right there. 

But she needs it, and you can hear that it’s getting closer to midnight. Only a few minutes left. 

You double the intensity, dragging your tongue over her clit again and again, feeling it pulse. You slip a hand between your own legs and groan at the wetness you find, fingers strumming at your own clit through your dress and soaked panties. Nothing gets you more turned on than Agatha’s pussy in your mouth, absolutely coating your face. 

She’s pinching her nipples now and you almost lose your rhythm from wishing you were the one doing that to her, but you don’t falter. Wetness is dripping out of her cunt onto the couch below and you almost smirk at the thought of seeing the stain tomorrow.  

Agatha better let you fuck her in her office more often. You clench at the thought of being under her desk, eating her out while she’s going through contracts or in a meeting or having lunch. Anytime you can. 

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” she chants and you can hear the minute countdown start. You lick and suck and nip and her hips are moving furiously, grinding on your face and you can’t breathe but you don’t even care because she tastes so fucking good. 

“Five…four…” You shove your tongue inside her and curl it up, stroking against the spongy spot that makes her gasp. “Three..two…” You scrape your teeth against her clit and she keens. “One…Happy New Year!” 

You suck her clit into your mouth hard and that does it. She goes flying over the edge, wetness gushing out onto your face, and you blissfully lick her through her orgasm, not even realizing that she’s too sensitive until she’s tugging at your hair, pulling you away from her. 

She brings you in for a kiss, a tradition when the clock strikes midnight on January First, but also something she always does when you eat her out, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips, and you don’t even care that you haven’t cum yet. You clasp her cheeks and your tongue sweeps into her mouth until you finally have to break apart to breathe. 

“What a way to start the new year,” you joke and she laughs and fluffs her hair. She looks like a thoroughly-fucked mess, but also the hottest you’ve ever seen. You soften and press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You know I love you, right? I don’t care about how old you are, you know I fucking love that. You don’t have to worry about Rio, or anyone else, no matter if they’re my age or not. I want you and only you.” 

Agatha smiles and kisses you again, and then kisses your nose. “I want all your midnight kisses, baby. I love you too.” It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever said. 

And of course you immediately have to ruin it with a joke. “Office sex isn’t that bad, hm?” She pokes your side and you giggle. 

“Let’s get back downstairs before anyone notices that we’ve been gone for so long,” she says. 

You whine but reluctantly get off her when she pats your hips and she finds her underwear that was thrown to the ground. You both fix your make-up in the mirror and then you’re back in the elevator, descending the sixty floors. If anyone asks, you’ll say it was an emergency with an acquisition. But you doubt anyone will. The champagne is flowing and it’s a party. 

Before the doors open, Agatha takes your hand, squeezes it three times as if to say I love you and then there’s a ding and it’s back to reality. 

But she gives you a wink meant only for you when she toasts to the company and all the good things yet to come and a warm feeling fills you. 

What a way to start the new year, indeed. 

[shanastoryteller]

why isn't shanastoryteller's tumblr writing on ao3?

i've been asked this before, and i've gotten asked this a handful more times in just the past week, so

i'm going to link this post in my pinned post so it hopefully comes up a little less. i'm going to go through my answer in a detailed way that isn't necessarily all directed towards anyone who has asked some variation of this recently or ever, i'm just trying to be thorough to answer this for the (hopefully) last time

first there's the issue of formatting. there's pretty much no way to move what's at this point about 2,000 prompts over to ao3 in a way that isn't deeply annoying to myself, other users, and anyone who's subscribed to me. i'm not interested in making a new "chapter" for just a couple hundred words, i'm not going to tag 100 fandoms on one work, i don't want have to go to ao3 after every prompt cycle and copy and paste the prompts into the fic, whether that be as a new chapter or just editing a story to contain new material. the masterlist and updating the google doc already takes a decent amount of time and having to do this on ao3 would be both finnicky and time consuming and there's no way to set it up that i wouldn't find myself irritated with the prompts being on my profile period

however, most importantly, it just doesn't jive with how i use each of these websites

ao3 is an archive and dumping all my random prompts on there is an appropriate use for it. however. it's not how i personally prefer to use each site and just because something can go on ao3 does not mean i'm required to put it there

tumblr is my sketchbook and ao3 is my art gallery

the prompts and snippets and random crap i post here isn't thought out, don't necessarily have an overarching plot, or any real substance to them besides the scenes. they're fun, they're usually low effort, and they're things i work on without any real expectation that they'll spawn into a full, fully plotted story or at least not one i'm committed to writing out. i don't like having unfinished works on ao3 and i try really hard not to. if i'm posting something to ao3, that's me making a commitment to eventually (EVENTUALLY!!) completing it and having all my random, messy, incomplete prompts and scraps on there would 100% stress me out

like how sketches often become full pieces, it's not uncommon for a prompt series or random writing to turn into a full fic that gets fleshed out / expanded and put on ao3

The Great Puzzle, wing bones touching, Snakelet, Here Be Dragons, Become Tomorrow, shrine or scar, that is a door, Cartwheels in Cloud Recesses, Ghosts Shouldn't, Little Lion Boy, and Despite the Abundance all started on tumblr

but even in cases where i found a big chunk of the tumblr writings usable and worth keeping, it's not a matter of just copy and pasting it over and calling it a day. a full fic and and a series of random prompts or whatever scenes i've written on here isn't necessarily how i would choose to tell a longform story, so transporting them over always entails a fairly large amount of work on my end

in the case of the great puzzle, i used all that i'd written, it was just the commitment and plot to writing the story through. for wing bones touching, i'm using most of what's already been written, but there's a lot of connective tissue and build up to earn the payoff that i hadn't bothered to write when it was just a prompt series that now has to be put in

there are some series where this is easier than others. the azula and zuko series, for example, would have to be written almost entirely from scratch. it encompasses a huge amount of time and action and earns pretty much none of it - because the format means it doesn't have to.

living blood is one that i'm thinking will probably end up on ao3 at some point because i've written a lot of the connective tissue and build up into it already so it's not such a huge effort to polish it up

"but you don't have to polish it up!" i can hear you saying. "you can just post it as is!"

i said it above and i'll say it again: i could. but i don't want to

i'm saying this with all the kindness and appreciation for your interactions and your comments and your readership but: not everything is about you

i link all the previous prompts in the most recent one. i make a masterlist after every prompt cycle. i have every prompt linked out in the google doc

i'm not opposed to making things easier for your guys, and have spent a lot of time doing so, but i'm completely uninterested in moving my prompts and random writings over to ao3 for all the reasons laid out above, and being asked repeatedly isn't going to change my answer

if you think those reasons are stupid and inadequate and it makes you mad, the good news is this: you don't have to follow me and you don't have to read my work. you're completely and totally free to opt out of this experience

if you find navigating prompts as i have them laid out to be too cumbersome and difficult then, kindly, don't read them

i'm not a professional, a company, or a celebrity. this blog and my writing is neither a product nor a service

the point where prompts are more stressful and irritating than they are fun, the point where sharing scraps of my writing becomes something that turns into an obligation or a drag or too much work, is the point where i stop doing it

[how2loa]

how do i wake up to my dream life?

HOW2LOA : manifest overnight !

thank you for the ask! this is a really good question and it’s one i’m sure a lot of people have so hopefully this post is helpful!

first off, i would like to mention that i personally do not recommend manifesting on a time crunch. focusing on time can cause you to think your manifestation is just out of reach and make you identify as the version of yourself that doesn’t have your desire and is manifesting. now, in principle, there is nothing wrong with manifesting, but we want to be the version of ourself that IS and HAS, rather than the version that is TRYING TO BE and IS MANIFESTING. focusing on time might stress you out and discourage you if your manifestations don’t come before your set deadline. if that is the case, i recommend revising on the spot and pretending you did receive your manifestation.

now, onto how to actually wake up in your dream life!

# 1 — think it is possible!

you do not need to 100% believe in manifestation for it to work, however having that belief to fall back on is crucial. it is what will keep you motivated and trusting that this is not just wishful thinking and you’re not crazy. even having 5% belief in the fact that manifesting is just that easy and you can have all that you want in 24 hours or less is enough.

# 2 — pick a method!

we all know that repetition is key and that is how our brain learns quickest. there are multiple ways to do this, either through roboting affirming, rampaging, sats, scripting, embodiment, the list goes on. pick what you prefer and stick to it. doing a technique, being impatient, blaming the technique and switching to a different one again and again will get you nowhere. however make sure you pick a technique you enjoy or have had previous success with. different ways work for different people so what might work for me might not work for you.

# 3 — saturate your mind!

depending on your method, this might look a bit different for each person. before you fall asleep, lay in a comfortable position, relax yourself and practice your chosen method. if you like robotic affirming, start to affirm in your head until you fall asleep. falling asleep in this state is really important as you are in the alpha and theta brainwave frequencies where your subconscious is wide open. this means it will accept whatever you feed it as true. persist persist persist in your new story!

# 4 — assume your desire is fulfilled!

accept that you making the decision to be the version of yourself that is living their dream life is enough to shift you to that reality. no crazy rituals, no crazy techniques or affirming for 82619462 hours. just following your happiness, staying consistent with living in the end and flipping opposing thoughts. you are who you claim to be NOW- not in the future, not next month. the moment you decide i am this version of myself, that becomes true for you because that is how powerful you are! you need to repeatedly go back to that version of yourself whenever you fall out of the state as your 3D will reflect your dominant state.

# 5 — reminders!

do not get discouraged if you wake up the next day and your desires haven’t manifested. what we are doing here is breaking the habit of being your old self. sometimes we are so used to thinking and behaving a certain way, identifying as a version of ourselves that doesn’t serve us any good, that it can be hard to truly settle in the new identity of ourselves overnight. stay determined and believe with conviction that you are all that you desire to be. because you are! the version of yourself that you want to manifest isn’t some different character outside of you, it’s still YOU!! and since you control your reality, whatever you say goes ;)

[gyllenhaalstuff]

Omg you’re taking requests for Loki!! Can I pls request jealous Loki / little boy pulling on little girl’s pigtails / realising he’s attracted to his partner (or all of the above)? Love your work!

Yes!! He is a bit mean in this which I’m not used to writing, hopefully it’s not too badly worded.

Frustrated

- Detective Loki

Summary: David resents you for frustrating him and disrupting his peace of mind. You confront him about it during a work session and he finally comes to terms with the problem at hand.

Warnings: David being rude, degradation, dom!David, masturbation, piv sex, unprotected sex.

Word count: 1516

Notes: I have a thing for office settings.

Catching feelings wasn’t something David ever thought he’d actually do. The only time he recalled ever liking someone was in grade school, but that was nothing compared to now.

Though, at the time, David didn’t know what the feeling was. He just knew it was strong. It felt like he was itching for a cigarette or never getting a break in a case. A kind of frustration that never seemed to settle.

The person responsible for this was you. And it would be a lie to say he didn’t hold resentment against you for it. But you had disrupted his world, and even more so when you began working on a case together.

One morning as David was walking from his car to the station, he saw you getting dropped off. You went around to the driver’s side and kissed the driver through the rolled-down window. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you two were supposed to stay late at the office that night, going through suspects.

David ignored you all day. You never understood why he was so cold to you and just rounded it up to him being antisocial. But you had a feeling there was something more; sometimes he stared at your legs, your thighs, but sometimes he’d glare at you like you were a fly clinging to his windshield.

You sat down in one of the conference rooms and laid out the documents you had gathered so far. Arrest papers, search warrant findings, headshots, testimonies, and alibis.

“Did you see it’ll be snowing tomorrow?” you said, trying to initiate some sort of small talk. You couldn’t stand the silence. “I didn’t,” David mumbled back, uninterested. “I can’t wait to stay in, watch a movie, and have a cup of tea,” you continued and got a hum in response. He really didn’t like you.

“Have I done something?” you asked, obviously frustrated. David finally looked up at you, shrugged, and said, “No.” 

“Because it seems like you don’t like me,” you let out. Maybe a stupid thing to say, but this tension made you want to rip your hair out. “Sometimes you just piss me off,” David finally said something of substance. It took you aback; you weren’t one known for causing trouble exactly. “When have I been anything but nice?” You were getting fired up by this conversation.

David rubbed his eyes. He didn’t actually know how to respond; you were right about that. “I just don’t love the way you walk around in those skirts like you’re some pretty little thing worthy of attention or when you tap your nails on the desk while we’re working or when you kiss your boyfriend in the parking lot.” He almost felt out of breath, while yours had gotten caught in your throat. 

“First of all, sorry about my tapping. I’ll work on that. Second of all, that wasn’t my boyfriend; that was my sweet grandma, whom I kissed on the cheek and thanked for the drive. And lastly, I wear these skirts to look put together, not to impress anyone.” You could feel how your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke.

David smiled meanly. “Yeah, because I’m sure you hate it when our colleagues drool as you walk in, flaunting your legs.” This was meant as an insult, you understood that, but it didn’t hit you as one. “Like you don’t,” you chuckled at his hypocrisy. David brushed his fingers through his hair; a few strands fell in his face. You almost felt bad for him; this seemed to stress him out for real.

A pause. “Hey, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice less harsh than before. “No, you’re right,” David sighed. “And you do look nice in your skirts; they just frustrate me.” You couldn’t help but widen your eyes a bit. Surely, he didn’t mean it like that. Frustrated can mean thousands of things. You crossed your legs and noticed how this meeting didn’t leave you unbothered.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “But how is it frustrating exactly?” You couldn’t hold back; if you did, you would stay up all night wondering what he meant by it. David had never actually thought about it, and he realized then that it was because he didn’t want to know. The itching feeling wasn’t him wanting to tear you to shreds; it was him wanting to bend you over the desk. When it dawned on him, it was as if someone had upped the thermostat and turned the conference room into a sauna. He didn’t realize how long he was quiet for, but you did. His mind seemed to go elsewhere, and he unbuttoned his shirt around the neck.

This was a problem for you. Attention from older men. You unintentionally smiled. “I don’t mind,” you let him know. It was like a switch went off in him, and his nerves went out the window. “Come here then.” He scooted his chair away from the table, giving you enough space to stand in front of him. You caught on and walked up to him. It was almost humiliating how he didn’t even bother to look up at you but kept his gaze fixed on your body.

His large hands instinctively went to grope your thighs. He hummed to himself as he squeezed and massaged them. He hardened in his slacks and shifted in his chair. You stood still as he felt you up, unsure of what to do. A low, quiet moan slipped out when his hands groped your ass instead. This was getting dangerous.

David got up and ordered you to turn around. You laid your torso on the desk, your hips in the air. Your skirt flipped up, and a calloused finger ran over your panties. Your mind was spinning with dirty thoughts and all the reasons this was wrong. Thoughts that died when your panties were pulled to the side and his finger pushed down on and rubbed your clit. You accidentally grabbed onto, scrunching, one of the documents as he made his circles against you.

You heard a zipper being undone. And then short, strained breaths and the sound of skin moving against skin. “This is why I can’t stand you,” David muttered from above, “pretending to be all professional when it’s obvious you’re a fucking slut.” Your thighs clenched, and you blushed at his words. Feeling as if you had gotten caught with something.

David spat on his cock before spreading it with his hand, grunting as he twisted around his head. You felt his tip touch your entrance, and you mentally prepared for the stretch. And thank God you did.

You couldn’t help but whine as he stretched you out, only stopping once his pelvis hit your skin. He sighed in relief, feeling some of his pent-up anger running off his back. He thrust out and in again slowly, making you huff in unsatisfaction. “Like you haven’t been torturing me,” David reminded you. Reminded you that this wasn’t without reason. 

You clenched your jaw, feeling his cock drawing out of you slowly, only to do it over again. “Please,” you mumbled helplessly. “Why should I?” David responded, secretly loving this control over you. “I’ll be really good and not tempt you anymore, I promise,” you rambled; what was true or not didn’t matter, as long as it got you where you wanted.

“You better.” David slammed into you. Both pain and pleasure washed over you. His new pace was much better, faster, and greedier. His thrusts were followed by short grunts that grew louder as he went on. His nails dug into your hips, stinging your warm skin.

Your legs felt like giving out, but you held out. This was your punishment, and you weren’t going to bitch about it. You felt your orgasm approaching, getting closer with each time David let out a moan or mumbled how good you felt. Insane how he was chattier during sex than during your lunch breaks. 

You warned David, “I’m close.” He followed with a “me too.” His thrusts became more punctuated and harder as he chased both your orgasms. And when yours approached and you clamped around him, you heard a whimper from above. You could feel yourself pulsating as David stalled in you, filling you up.

David was the first to move. He tucked himself back in his pants and ran to grab a paper towel. He wiped away his cum that seeped out of you, trying to save the carpet flooring. You thought it was sweet.

You went to the bathroom afterward (very important if you don’t want a UTI). Your face was all flushed and hot. You splattered some cold water on your face to calm down.

When you got back, David had his nose in the documents. His work morale was unmatched. You sat opposite him, sorting through the now scattered papers. You figured he wasn’t going to say anything until you did. “I really needed that,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t ignore you.

“Not the only one,” he responded and even smiled at you.

[angelpuns]

50au Part 18

BLOOD AND INJURY TW!!! Please lemme know if it needs more.

Working out a plan was the easy part. Actually doing the plan was proving to be very, very difficult. 

Leo clearly didn't trust them completely, and he definitely didn't trust Draxum. Draxum, the only person he remembered so far. 

So getting him to willingly go and speak to Draxum was like pulling metaphorical teeth. 

Then there was the issue of Raph, who was hardly there today at all. He followed along and helped as well as he could, but most of the time he was so out of it they could hardly include him in the discussion. 

Donnie almost wanted to ask him to stay home and relax for a while, but he knew it'd be worse for him to be away from Leo right now, so he didn't dare bring it up. 

Mikey was taking the lead on helping Raph anyway, but his energetic mask also seemed to be slipping. He was clearly exhausted, Donnie just hadn't realized it earlier. 

They were all really going to need a break after this was over, that was for sure. 

Talking with Draxum had been stressful, most of all for Leo. Who kept watching him like he'd suddenly attack them all. Donnie wasn't sure he even heard what the yokai was saying at one point, but he dutifully nodded along anyway. 

Donnie had to give his twin points for the unnecessary bravery, at the very least. 

Thankfully, Barry knew a witch who knew a witch, and they could probably help. The issue was going to witchtown itself. Because they obviously were not welcome there. 

Raph and Mikey were, unfortunately, the two weakest links right now. Donnie wasn’t strong enough to restrain Leo himself right now, but he at least had the darts and the tracker, and he had a prototype of a capture device that might work. 

So the plan was to go with Leo to witch town, in disguises, to see if they could get the curse reversed or something. 

And hopefully no one would recognize them and Leo wouldn't try and run off. Hopefully. 

The trip to witch town went, somehow, as planned. They spoke to the witch Draxum suggested and she gave them a book and a list of supplies that should ‘ wash the curse away’, but the supplies were so few and far between it was going to take at least a week of preparation.  Not to mention they had to go into Leo's memories, which had already been difficult enough when they went into dad's. 

“okay, let's get what we can off this list and regroup at home. I'll let the others know we're on our way,” Donnie sighed, pulling out his phone and shooting a text to the group chat, “ we can grab lunch, too, I'm sure Mikey’s arms are hurting him since he didn't get a ton of rest.” 

Leo was silent for a moment, but ultimately nodded. He hadn't spoken much at all on their trip, but Donnie forced himself to ignore the alarm bells that usually set off. 

He was probably exhausted, had woken up in a confusing situation, and was still injured. And Donnie had dragged him down to the hidden city after he'd had to talk to Draxum, the only person he even remembered, and not for the right reasons. 

So Donnie tried not to worry too much about the silence. He figured this was all a bit overwhelming. After all, if he were in this sort of situation…well, he'd be a lot less calm about it than Leo was pretending to be. 

“ um…what happened to Mikey's arms…?” Leo finally asked. 

Right. He wouldn't know because he didn't remember Mikey. 

Donnie wasn't sure how to put it. On one hand, he knew that Leo felt guilty about it. Normal-non-amnesiac-Leo did, anyway. Because Leo had accidentally told him that one night when he was still being weaned off painkillers. 

So he wasn't really sure what the reaction would be when this Leo, who didn't even know he had brothers, found out. It was a toss up, really, and Donnie wasn't good enough at unscrambling other people's emotions to try and predict the outcome. Not that he'd been predicting any of Leo’s plans or emotions lately. 

“ Well, when you were in the…the prison dimension,” He saw Leo stiffen at that out of the corner of his eye, but he kept talking, “Mikey opened up a portal to get you out and it took a bit of a toll on his hands. Mystically” 

He glanced at Leo. He looked like he might be sick, Donnie quickly remembering that reassuring someone was a thing you were supposed to do after bad news. 

“ But he's doing better now-” he quickly offered, “Draxum’s been helping him with the mystic part, I made him compression gloves for the shaking, and we've all been caring for the burns. You especially.”

Leo looked up at that with a faint frown, but he didn't seem like he was going to fall apart any second, at least. 

“Okay…that’s good.” Was all he said, and they carried on in silence once again.  

The list sent them all over the hidden city, the ingredients for some kind of mystical ‘cleansing salve’ few and far between. Not to mention the sellers of these items were suspicious and rude as hell. 

A good chunk of the items needed came from witch town itself, but Donnie wanted to save that for last. They needed to get what they could now, and being run out of the hidden city - or god forbid hit with another curse - wasn't going to help. 

So, they double checked their disguises and made their way into witchtown for a second time that day, this time weighed down by a bag full of items. 

“ Okay, in and out. We already risked enough coming back the first time, we can't afford to be recognized,” Donnie murmured, shuffling the bag back onto his shoulder. 

“ Well if someone had let me have my sword, we could just portal away from any trouble” Leo snarked, rolling his eyes and turning away. 

“ Okay first of all, you couldn't portal right now if you wanted to, I know you're too tired and hurting and you barely slept,” Donnie huffed, “ and second I know you don't trust me and I really would rather my injured amnesiac brother not be running around on his own again,”

Leo huffed, but didn't snark back about it. Probably because he knew Donnie was right about his inability to make a portal. 

“ let's just get this over with, my head is killing me,” Was all he said, and the two continued on into witch town. 

The first stop was to an apothecary, which was easy to get, thank goodness. The witch there was kind enough to even give them a discount, on account of ‘you probably need this for a really  difficult spell’. 

Which, yeah, she wasn't wrong. 

They continued, the next few items more difficult to get a hold of, with sellers that didn't seem to want to part with them. 

“ Please, we're willing to pay you twice as much. We really need it,” Donnie offered, dropping the coins onto the counter. 

The seller- a large, half-blind tiger yokai, growled, counting the coins and shaking his head. 

 

“ No amount of coin will change my mind,” he rasped, the sound of it grating against the inside of Donnie's head, “ these skills are for sacred rituals, only. And you two are clearly not going to be using it correctly.”.

Donnie sighed, grabbing Leo's arm so they could just leave and try another time, but Leo didn't budge. 

“ I'll have you know we're going to be using it in a spell to bring back our old god,” he hissed, “ she's been gone for thousands of years, and the new moon is aligning perfectly for the first time. We need this skull to summon her and we need it now. ” 

The seller opened his mouth to respond, but Leo cut him off, “ and if you don't, we'll just fight you for it,” 

Donnie slapped a hand over his face. His twin was an idiot for sure. 

“ Do you take me for a fool!?” The yokai growled, slamming his hand onto the counter. The coins rattled against the wood, several falling to the ground, “ You two couldn't even dress the part, and the new moon isn't for another two weeks. Take your lies somewhere else!” 

“ C'mon, let's go. We're attracting too much attention,” Donnie hissed, grabbing Leo's arm again. Leo wrenched it away. 

“ Fine, we'll go! But I'm leaving a bad yelp review. And would it kill you to pick up the coins that you dropped back there? We'll be taking our business somewhere else and we'll be needing that coin” 

The yokai growled, but crouched behind the counter for a moment to grab whatever coins had fallen there. 

“ Donnie, time to run,”

“ What-”

Leo suddenly leaned over the counter sbdd grabbed the small skull from the shelf, knocking several more of them onto the ground as he went. 

The yokai leapt up from behind the counter just as Leo pulled away, claws swiping at Leo's hands. 

“ DONNIE, I SAID RUN!” 

Donnie quickly adjusted the bag on His shoulder and ran, glancing back to see the yokai leaping over the counter after them. 

“ LEO, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?” He shouted, fighting to catch up to his twin, “ WE CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS IN FUCKING WITCHTOWN, DO YOU WANT TO BE DOUBLY CURSED!?” 

“ IT WORKED, DIDN'T IT!?” Leo responded, not even bothering to look back. 

Yeah, it worked. Worked to gain the attention of half the population! 

The tiger yokai was hot on their tails, so close Donnie could hear his pants and growls.  A little too close for comfort. He pressed on, slowly catching up with Leo, until he matched his twin's stride. 

“ Here, take- take the skull!” Leo tossed it to him, and Donnie slipped it into the bag. “ really wish we had my sword right about now, huh!?” 

“ Oh shut up! Just keep running!” Donnie hissed, lungs burning with effort. If the bag wasn't so heavy, he could have easily activated his hover shell, but between that and Leo not having his sword, there was no clear escape.

They ran out of witchtown and through the Hidden City Marketplace, but every time Donnie looked back, the yokai was there. Like he wasn't going to stop til he got that skull or killed them. Or both. 

“ Leo, I- do you have a plan!?” He gasped out. His muscles were starting to feel like jelly, they couldn't keep this up for much longer. 

“ there's…there’s an exit here..some-somewhere!” Leo response breathlessly. He looked close to falling out, his feet starting to slow and his strides becoming shorter. 

“ don't slow down! Keep running!” Donnie urged, “ What does it look like?” 

Leo wasn't answering, gasping and panting with the effort. Donnie was reminded that at least he had gotten minimal injuries yesterday. Leo had been put through the wringer and was still recovering. 

“ The-the post office.. False door…on the side- I can't-” 

Donnie spotted it a short distance away, the Hidden City Postal service. He couldn't make out any side doors from here, but he assumed it was hidden in the dark of the alley next to the building. 

Maybe if he grabbed Leo, he could activate his hover shell and give them a little boost. Just enough to close the distance. 

He was about to relay the thought when Leo suddenly stumbled, tripping over his own feet and falling face first into the dusty ground. It would have been funny if not for the imminent danger they were in. 

“ shit! C'mon, get up Leo, we have to keep going!” Donnie grabbed his twin's arm and tried to help him up, Leo struggling to his feet and gasping for air. 

Donnie chanced a look behind them. The yokai was closing the distance, teeth bared and eyes burning hatred into Leo's shaking form. 

“C’mon! Just a little further! I've got you-” 

Leo was standing for only a moment when the yokai leapt at him, claws outstretched. 

Donnie tried to pull Leo forward, but he wasn't quick enough. The tiger’s claws came down first, missing him by mere inches, but his jaw managed to latch onto Leo's calf. 

He dragged Leo to the ground in one motion, Donnie refusing to let go even when he himself stumbled with the force of it. 

Seconds felt like minutes. 

The crowd around them shuffled on like this was normal, clipping against Donnie's arms, legs and shell like he was just an annoyance in the road. Sound seemed to stop, then rushed back all at once as Donnie stated at the blood gushing from Leo's leg. 

And with it, the sound of the crowd, the busy market stalls and worst of all, the piercing, pained scream of his twin on the ground. 

Don't think. Don't look too hard and don't think, just act. 

Donnie was only still for a moment, before his ninpo flared to life and he was charging at the tiger. He wrenched his Bo off his back and got to swinging, constructing a drill attachment as he went. He was going to bury this guy. 

The tiger dodged the attack, letting go of Leo's leg as he did. He spit the blood onto the dirt and growled at Donnie, claws extended and ready to fight. 

Donnie swung again and again, drilling whirring and missing the yokai by mere inches each time. 

“ Ha! Should have brought a real weap-”

Donnie swung hard and the drill finally hit something. It dug into the yokai's side and he cut himself off with a screech of pain. It drew blood the further it went, and Donnie was going for a full swing.

The tiger leapt back, clutching his side and growling at Donnie reproachfully. He wasn't bleeding nearly as much as Donnie would have liked it, but it seemed to be enough. 

He crouched to leap at Donnie again, but he was ready. He through his bo with as much force as he could managed, having added heavy constructs to both ends. He wanted nothing more than to fight this yokai until he was bleeding as badly as Leo, but he didn't have time. They had to get out of there. 

The bo whirled through the air and hit the yokai in the stomach, knocking him to his knees in the middle of the crowd. 

Donnie didn't even wait to see if he'd get up, rushing to Leo's side and trying hard ot to throw up at the coppery scent of blood - way too much blood. 

“ C'mon, we gotta- we gotta go!” He managed to get Leo up, one of Leo’s arm thrown around his own shoulders so he could carry both him and the bag. 

Leo whined and gasped at every movement, but Donnie could not afford to stop, not when the yokai was still after them. 

He ran as well as he could with the extra wait, his gait more akin to a limp with the way he had to drag Leo along. 

He cried out in pain with each step, but all Donnie could do was apologize. 

“Sorry, I'm sorry! We're-we're almost there!” he assured, the alleyway getting closer and closer, but far too slowly for his liking. He glanced back. 

The yokai was on his feet again, limping towards them much more quickly than Donnie would have liked. 

“ I'm sorry, just a little further-” he assured, the doorway merely steps away now. Now that they were close enough, he could see it, a flat, shadowed doorway on the side of the building, without a handle or anything. He glanced at Leo for instructions, but he was unresponsive and limp against Donnie's shoulder, now a dead weight That Donnie would have to figure out how to get home. 

The yokai was closing in. He just hoped that there wasn't some sort of stupid mystic spell he had to do to get through. Donnie stepped through, stumbling out into a cool, New York afternoon. 

The portal shimmered behind them, Donnie hurrying to drag Leo and their bag behind a nearby dumpster. He pressed the two of them against the wall and held his hand over Leo's mouth, squinting into the darkness of the alleyway. 

Nothing happened for a while. The wall went back to normal and Donnie could only assume that the yokai couldn't get through. He didn't want to know why, not right now. 

Leo was still bleeding, a lot, and Donnie had to act quickly. 

He set aside their bag of items and hurriedly searched for something to stop the bleeding with. They didn't have bandages, so he went with the next best thing. He ripped the sleeve from his hoodie, cringing a bit. It was one of his favorites, but this was necessary. 

He tore it into several strips and hurried to lay Leo on the concrete, the scent of blood making him want to gag with how strong it was. Leo’s gaze turned towards him, the haziness clearing away a little. His eyes widened, and his breathing seemed to pick up a second later.

“ Leo, I know you don't really trust me right now, but I need you to stay calm, okay?” Donnie murmured, wrapping the torn fabric around Leo's leg as tight as he could to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Don't think about the blood, do not think about it. And definitely don't think about Leo bleeding Out. 

“I’m- I'm gonna get you home, okay? So just…please don't panic,” He begged, finishing the wrap with a quick knot. It wasn't helping much, but it was what he had on hand for now. 

Leo whined at the pain and blearily looked up at him. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, but he was at least looking at Donnie again. 

“ Who…? I don't…” 

“ It's me. It's Donnie. Your brother. I know you don't know who I am, but-” Donnie choked on a sob, and quickly covered his mouth to stifle it. He could not afford to break down right now. Not with Leo injured, not while they were stuck in some random alley in New York. 

“ just…don’t move, please, I’m gonna keep you safe,” He murmured, taking a shaky breath, “ I'm gonna get you home safe, I promise,” 

Leo watched him for a moment, before closing his eyes again. He curled a little around Donnie, pressing his face into his side like he was seeking that warmth. He let out a few hasps and whines of pain at the movement, but Hus breathing started to even out. 

After a moment, he spoke again, voice muffled by Donnie's hoodie. 

“Donnie…i wanna go home…can I please go home…?”

It took every ounce of strength for Donnie to not break down in tears. Even when Leo didn't remember them, he still managed to tug at all of Donnie's stipid heart strings. Not amount of Bad Boy Masking could help with that. 

“ Yeah..yes, I'm gonna get you home, I promise.”

---

Apparently I lied about not writing this weekend. I wrote the ending of this and then liked it so much I wanted to write more. BTW this STILL isn't the part I've been wanting to write yet LMAO

Ummmmm anyway yeah enjoy :)

Lemme know if more warnings are needed. Also sorry if its confusing I do not be planning any of this.

Part 1 | Part 17 | Part 19

[rainbowsky]

Hello, loved watching Weibo 2024 last night, both GG and DD were looking so handsome! 😍😍❤️❤️I see so much talk about DD's seat situation, and how it's related to the 227 incident, I was wondering whether you had any hot takes on it? Thank you, luvv your blog!

Hi sasukeforhokage! Thanks so much for your kind words, I'm glad you're enjoying my blog! 😊

Yes, they both looked amazing! It's always nice to see them out at an event, especially both of them on the same night.

I actually got a few asks about this seating issue. I'm sorry for those I didn't answer, but hopefully everyone will get what they wanted from this response.

Background

For those who weren't aware of what happened, here's a bit of background.

On Weibo Night, when the room had been set up for the celebrity guests, photos of the seating arrangement leaked on social media. It showed that GG and DD were assigned to sit 4 seats away from each other. I posted about that on the night of the event, which you can find here.

As I said in that post, GG and DD's assigned seats at these events are largely irrelevant, because they haven't appeared in the room at the same time for years. They seem to coordinate it so that they take turns being out there and being backstage. Generally they're only out there when they need to be - basically when they're about to get an award, or any of their cast and crew are about to get an award, or if/when they're performing.

This has been the case for a very long time, and there have also been events where neither of them has taken their seat in the main area for the entire night (so no, this wasn't the first time seats weren't taken).

Why would they not want to be out there in the main room? Well, there are plenty of good reasons for this.

It's boring, cold and uncomfortable.

There is too much focus on them when they're in the room, and they wouldn't want to be a distraction from other artists, particularly young artists who rely more on the spotlight to build their career. This is also why we always see GG and DD trying to move to the margins when group photos are being taken, so that up-and-coming artists or industry seniors can get prime placement.

The less they are seen in proximity to other stars, the less chance of a scandal, gossip or fan wars due to their perceived facial expressions, body language and other behavior.

This is especially important when it comes to them being in the same room at the same time. There is far too much emphasis on their reactions/behavior toward each other, which can cause fan wars and public scrutiny on their relationship.

When there's a lot of scrutiny on their relationship, it becomes all anyone talks about on the night - even bystanders - and this takes away focus from other artists. As I said before, they wouldn't want to be a distraction. Not only would it make them uncomfortable to be the central focus, it can backlash against them, because Chinese audiences can be harshly critical of those who take up too much public attention. Fans of other artists would also be given more incentive to attack GG and DD and wage fanwars if their idol was forced into GG and DD's shadow.

When they're in a room like that they are going to have dozens of cameras trained on them, so they have to be in 'celebrity mode' completely, which must be extremely tense and stressful.

Ultimately these appearances are a performance, and there's no incentive to perform for any longer than they absolutely have to.

Etc. etc.

What happened?

At some point in the evening people took notice of the seat numbers that were assigned, and realized that DD's seat was row 2, seat 27.

Anyone who has been following GG and DD for any amount of time will likely be aware of what those numbers mean. 227 was the name given the big scandal that happened back in 2020 (because the main scandal broke on 27 Feb of that year), where fans and antis nearly got GG cancelled over a fan fic that portrayed him as a transgender sex worker in a relationship with an underage DD. There have been countless posts and articles written about 227, so I'm not going to dig into that here.

In some ways 227 also became an attack on DD, because a coordinated group of antis tried to frame him for all of it, claiming he and his team were behind the whole thing and were trying to get GG cancelled. His team has been fighting these claims for years, so any association of DD with that number is extremely harmful, even suspicious. It inevitably brings up questions of whether someone is intentionally trying to harm DD by seating him there.

I'll get to my thoughts on that later.

There was a flurry of activity around his seat at one point in the evening, when staff members (later identified as Sina staff) were seen ripping the number off (or trying to, but proper removal would have required scissors, so they ended up rolling up the number to hide it from view). They also took photos of the rolled up number, presumably to show DD and his team what had been done to remedy the situation.

There was also talk that the seating arrangement was changed so that Li Xian would switch seats with DD, putting DD in seat 228 and Li Xian in seat 227, although the numbers/labels were not changed.

Edit: @maurice-dandi shared this image (thanks) of how the seat labels were arranged at the end. They'd cut away the numbers from some of the seats and swapped his name with Li Xian's, moving DD's assigned seat from 227 to 228.

All of this was talked about in various ways by fans on the night of the event, framed by all sorts of theories about what was happening, and why, and about who was making these decisions and changes, and why. Ultimately we don't know for sure who drove these changes, but at the very least it's safe to say that DD and his team were involved in those conversations.

I also feel it's likely they were the ones initiating all of this by lodging a complaint about the number. The seating arrangement was in really poor taste and potentially very harmful to DD and his reputation had he been seen sitting there. Imagine the hotsearches! "Wang Yibo in seat #227." Ugh.

DD never did take his seat that night. I don't find that remotely surprising. Although to be fair, I wouldn't have been surprised if we never saw him in his seat, regardless of which number he had been assigned. He tends to put in the bare minimum for these events - and I don't blame him. The less consequential an event, the less invested he seems to be in it unless he's promoting a project. This is the kind of very common sense, no BS approach that DD is known for.

Why did it happen?

There are a lot of fans who believe this was an intentional attempt by Sina Weibo to spark drama on the night of the event, and to generate audience engagement on the platform.

The theory isn't without merit. All social media platforms benefit greatly from negative engagement. Studies have shown that negative engagement is by far the most popular and long-lasting. The more that people go to war over topics, the more they post about it, the more frequently they check back in for updates, the more they post and comment, and the longer the whole thing lasts.

If someone posts about a cute baby panda it might make the rounds for a few days, everyone might make one comment on it, give it a share and then move on.

Adversarial issues and arguments, on the other hand, tend to rage out of control for days, weeks - even months. People will typically make many comments as they argue back and forth, and they'll even draw others into it.

So yes - Sina Weibo does have something to gain by sparking a war. And they have been known for shamelessly profiting from scandals in the past. For example, by letting antis pay to rank up hateful hotsearches about an artist, and then making the artist pay to have those same hotsearches taken down. They're by no means a noble organization.

However, I also feel they have something to lose by intentionally pulling a stunt like this.

Weibo Night is just a big PR event, both for Weibo and the stars who attend. None of the awards given out are consequential. They're all just a bunch of fluff and flattery, with no real substance. The entire event is just a huge charade meant to make Weibo look important and relevant, and to give artists a platform to boost their status and promote their latest projects.

While it's true that events like this give artists a good opportunity to be seen and to promote their work, Weibo Night needs the artists a lot more than the artists need Weibo Night. The only legitimacy/relevance this event holds is granted entirely based on which artists choose to attend. If big artists didn't show up, the event would rapidly lose any interest or value for audiences.

Weibo Night needs top stars like GG and DD to attend the event. They're by far two of the biggest draws for audiences, and big artists like them legitimize the event through their attendance.

Artists like GG and DD agree to attend events like this based on a trust that the event will be conducted in a professional way that will not bring harm upon the artists and their reputations.

If artists started to get the sense that Weibo Night will intentionally pull stunts that would be harmful to their careers and their reputations, they would stop attending. While I am not naive to how shameless corporations like this can be, I am also well aware of how risk averse they are, and how driven they are by money.

I just don't feel convinced that there's more to gain for Weibo Night by pulling a stunt like this, than there is to lose by doing so. Therefore I'm not convinced it was intentional on the part of the event organizers.

I also subscribe strongly to the old saying, "Never attribute to malice what can be adequately explained by incompetence." I genuinely believe that people are easily this clueless, and that cluelessness is sufficient to explain what happened that night.

The organizers would have been focused on ensuring GG didn't end up seated in 227. I doubt it would have occurred to them that anyone else would have an issue with that number.

But we will likely never know.

Fans lap up persecution narratives like so much sweet pablum, so this story is never going to die and will likely continue to be spread and framed as an intentional attack on DD, or on both GG and DD, but I'm personally not fully convinced either way.

What about DD's reaction?

Did DD refuse to take his seat because of the number he was assigned? And if so, was that because he was trying to protect GG, or was it because he was trying to protect his own reputation?

Was it a romantic gesture, or was it an act of self-preservation?

These are some of the questions being hotly debated among solos and turtles on various platforms.

My personal opinion is that it was inevitably a bit of both.

There's no planet on which he and his team would want to be associated with that number, given how intensely coordinated anti groups have been trying to frame them as the architects of GG's downfall. They would not want to hand these antis a photo op with DD sitting in that seat. They would not want to appear to be OK with that number. No way.

But there's also no planet on which DD would sit in a seat marked 227. It just would never happen. There's also no planet on which he wouldn't seize an opportunity like this to show his devotion to GG.

Both can be true - and in my view, both are.

And this is totally unwashable. It's blatantly clear that DD is not OK with that number. Anyone can see that, which is why so many new turtles have been hatched over this incident - DD's solos because they've seen his refusal to be connected to an anti-GG number, and GG's solos because of DD's apparent protectiveness toward GG.

And DD's intent was only made clearer when he posted later that evening with the kadian 228.

DD almost never makes personal posts. The fact that he made this particular post on this particular night with this particular kadian is not an accident. He knew what he was doing. He was making reference to that seating issue, showing that he was aware of it and that he did intentionally refuse and reject the number 227.

DD doesn't tolerate BS, nor does he set aside his principles in order to bow down to politeness and expectations.

Of course we can and should also recognize it as a loving thing. Of course. DD is extremely protective of GG. More than of himself. He wants the world to know it. We've seen this time and again - especially after 227.

Anyway, this is just my take on the whole thing. Others will have their own. None of us knows anything for sure. Let's be realistic - none of this is going to be openly disclosed or explained by anyone involved.

Edit: Regarding the speech

I forgot to address his acceptance speech when he received his award. This is another issue that is being discussed among fans. A lot of fans are saying that his speech was short and brusque because he was angry about the seating issue.

This is not a credible theory as far as I'm concerned, for a few reasons.

He is a professional, and when he is on stage he will behave professionally. He will not project his emotional state in a situation like that, in front of an audience of industry professionals. It's just not going to happen. He has his head screwed firmly on his shoulders, he's not going to do something to damage his reputation or disrupt the night by throwing a little microtantrum onstage.

He is not so emotionally volatile that an incident like this would make him visibly angry. He tends to have a flat affect (he doesn't tend to show a lot of emotion, good or bad), so I don't think anything can be read into his demeanor on that night.

He is a man of few words, and his acceptance speeches are always very short. This is nothing new.

I suspect that he was likely aware that this seating issue was an unintentional oversight, not an intentional insult against him. As such, he would be annoyed, but it's unlikely he would have been truly angry.

Related posts/posts of interest:

My initial post about this topic

GG 2/27 Statement

Why did DD never make a statement about 227?

Tencent 2020 rehearsal time slot candy

A recent post where I talked a bit about 227

[atinyniki]

baby bump

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationship, seungmin is referred to min, pup, and minnie, pregnancy, suggestive towards the end???

authors note: i love kim seungmin. that is all i have to say about this. this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 3250

“no no no”

this can’t be happening. 

you flip over the pregnancy tests to see 6 pink lines staring right at you. you took three, just to make sure you weren’t pregnant, but the tests didn’t come out the way you wanted them to.

you hear the front door close, and quickly scramble to hide the tests. walking out of the bathroom, you see a tired seungmin. his features are soft, relaxed, but his eyes are cold. 

“how was work?”

“exhausting.”

you frown, “i can tell, would you like dinner?”. “dinner sounds nice”

seungmin loves coming home to you. you’re his safe space, and it’s like all his problems disappear when you’re with him. he loves you a lot, and you know it.

after heating up the leftovers, you hand him his plate and you both sit at the table. his expression isn’t quite placeable, but if you were to guess, he looked pretty upset.

“what’s wrong minnie?”

his head jerks up at you quickly, your voice bringing him back from his thoughts. “oh… just comeback stress”

you hold his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. he seems to loosen up at this, and starts eating. 

you’re scared to tell him the news, but figured you’d tell him after the comeback mayhem has died down.

seungmin hasn’t been home a lot lately, and you’re just starting your eighth week of pregnancy. you recently got a checkup while seungmin was at work.

you’ve been throwing up a lot recently, but you figured it was normal in your first trimester. hopefully seungmin doesn’t notice anything’s wrong. he’s been a lot less attentive anyways.

“im home!”, you hear him yell from the front door.

“go shower, foods almost ready!”, you yell back.

you figured he’d appreciate you making his favorite meal when he got home, maybe it’d even cheer him up a little.

once he got back, you start setting out the food.

“how was your day?”

“exhausting.”

he had been answering that question the same way for weeks. it was always just ‘exhausting’. you just hoped that one day he would just respond with ‘good’, but he never did. 

there was nothing you could do to help with his work, but you could help at home. once you both finished your food, you brought him to the bed and peppered kisses all over his face. 

his soft giggles let you know you’ve succeeded, and you slowly start to calm down with the kisses. “seungmin…”

“yeah?”

the words sit right at the tip of your tongue. you have to tell him now, it’s the perfect time, but instead, you blurt out something else.

“i love you”

his heart swelled, “i love you too pup”, he smiled while he gave you a kiss.

you both drifted off to sleep that night, safe in eachothers arms.

it’s your 3rd month in right now, and if you’ll be honest it’s getting really hard to hide your baby bump.

seungmin hasn’t been home that much lately, he’s been working so late that he has to stay at the dorms. it’s getting harder and harder to do everything by yourself, and you can’t find the perfect time to tell seungmin about your baby either. 

you’ve been getting weaker, and your hormones were out of balance. random waves of whatever emotion passing through at different times, you just wanted to have seungmin by your side. he always knows how to calm you down.

you’re laying in bed now, scrolling through your phone, waiting for seungmins text to see if he’ll be coming home for the night. 

you slowly felt yourself drift off to sleep, but you tried to keep yourself up to wait for him. you felt too tired to stay awake anymore.

you wake up to your phone ringing hours later, ‘dog kisser’ it read. what would hyunjin be calling you for at almost four in the morning? you immediately picked up.

“hello?”, you cleared your throat once you heard how raspy it was.

“sorry, did i wake you? i was just calling to tell you that seungmin staying at the dorms again tonight”

“okay… thanks jin”

your tone threw him off. “what’s wrong y/n? are you okay?”

you ignore the question, “is seungmin still working?”

“uh yeah i think so, im worried about him y/n. he hasn’t slept at all, you should probably talk to him.”

“oh… okay, i will. you should sleep now hyunjin. 

“i will, you get some rest too. you sound tired”

you say your good nights and goodbyes, but you can’t seem to fall back asleep. you’re lying in your bed, your eyes wide open. you just want to cry, you’re so worried for seungmin, but from all the tears you’ve cried these past days, your eyes have dried out.

as much as you try to cry to finally get that release, they don’t leave your eyes. you can feel your heart cracking more and more every second you think about how seungmin must feel right now.

seungmin came home for once the next day, but it was extremely late. he came home to see your sleeping figure on the bed.

seungmin feels guilty for always being home so late. he doesn’t know the last time he’s heard your voice in person. 

tears well up in his eyes. he can’t imagine how terrible you must be feeling right now. what good is a boyfriend who can’t help his pregnant girl?

he quickly takes a shower and meets you in bed, careful not to shake you too much. he wants you to get as much rest as you can. he quickly bends down to kiss your baby bump, then your forehead. it’s become a routine at this point, since the only times he sees you is when you’re asleep.

he wants you to tell him when you’re ready…

its been a month. seungmin has stopped coming to the house completely, but he still manages to find time to call you everyday. his work has become more hands-on, so he has to be at the dorms and studios more often. 

he makes sure he’s understanding of how you’re feeling, making sure not to undermine any of your feelings.

it’s been so difficult without him, and you really do want to tell him, but you know it’ll make everything worse for him.

it’s been difficult for him too. he hasn’t told you but he’s been crying himself to sleep every night. the guilt is eating him alive, and there’s nothing he can do to help the pain. it’s gotten so loud that even jeongin has been able to hear him cry some nights.

seungmin comes home one night a week later, and he just can’t do it anymore. he’s been thinking about it for a while, but it was also kind of an impulsive decision. seeing you fall asleep on the couch waiting for him broke something in him.

tears start streaming down his face as he crouches down in front of you. he kisses your small baby bump again. he realizes you’ve been wearing thicker and looser clothing to hide it.

“y/n. y/n wake up”

your eyes slowly start fluttering open. your smile reaches your eyes after seeing your boyfriend after so long. you reach for his face, but he pulled away. that’s when you knew something was up.

“what’s wrong my love?”

his heart shattered right there and then, but it was too late. there was no way you could piece it back together for him, and neither could he. 

“i can’t do this anymore”

you look at him, head tilted in confusion. “what do you mean minnie?”

he stays silent. you begin to worry. did something happen at work? did his-

“i want to break up.”

oh. you weren’t expecting it, that’s for sure. you wanted to stay strong though. you figured being sad all the time probably wasn’t good for the baby.

you contained your tears as well as you could, but couldn’t seem to make out any words. your hands shook as you reached for his. 

“why?”

seungmin truly didn’t have an answer to that, not one he could tell you at least. he couldn’t tell you that the reason he’s leaving is because of his own guilt. he knows it’s selfish, but he couldn’t come home to you like this anymore. he couldn’t break you any more than he already has.

he hesitated for a bit, but eventually got something out. “i don’t think i love you anymore.”

lying to you hurt him more than anything else. he wished he could tell you he still loves you, but he knows that wouldn’t allow you to move on. that was unfair to you, and he didn’t want to make it any worse.

“did i do something?”

“no.”, he responded coldly. you’d never heard his voice like that before, not when he was talking to you.

you were at a loss for words, and your tears finally started falling. harsh sobs racked your body, and it was getting hard to breathe. through your struggles, you still managed to get a couple words out.

“you… i thought…”

“you thought what?”, he responded quickly.

“i thought… you w-were the one…”

hearing those words broke his entire soul. he didn’t know how long it’d take him to recover after that. he truly thought he was going to die right there. that it was a bad nightmare and he’d wake up any second. but he didn’t. 

“well, i’m not.”

he began to get up, he couldn’t bear to see your face anymore. it was so difficult for him to lie to you. 

“don’t go… please. stay with me, i’ll be better i- i promise”, you yelled through your tears. he was already darting towards the front door, but he turned around.

“bye, y/n”

an apology sat on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t let it out. quickly, he walks out the door before he can look back. there was no reversing what he had just done. he was certain he had just lost you forever.

before he actually left the estate, he lingered there for a while. it hurt him more, but he knew he deserved it. he heard you cry for hours that night, you never left your spot at the front of the door.

he brought you food from the convenience store and left it at your door, quickly ringing the doorbell and running back to his car, and leaving for good.

he felt like the worst exboyfriend in the world. how could he just leave you like that? it’s as if he treated you like you were nothing. like his baby meant nothing to him.

you regretted not telling him before. you still feel guilty about it, you’re carrying his baby girl and you couldn’t even find the courage to tell him.

seungmin went to the only person he could. chan.

chan was always down to earth, and gave the best advice. seungmin was in need of exactly what chan had to offer.

“chan please what do i do”

“please seungmin calm down, i can’t tell you anything until you chill”

chan helped him deal with his own feelings, but as much as he wanted to help his friend, he knew it was seungmins fault in the first place. 

seungmin really wanted you back, but he knew he couldn’t do that. he knew he’d just break you even more. he couldn’t play with you like that. but he just needed you back by his side.

you’re shot out of your thoughts by your phone ringing. 

“ji? what’s up?”

“y/n you need to pick seungmin up. please…”

your heart dropped at the thought of him again. the man that broke your heart with no explanation, and left you to pick up the pieces on your own. 

“why? what happened”

“i don’t know. he’s not okay… he hasn’t left his room and there’s just crashing and wailing”

wailing? you’ve seen seungmin cry but wailing was rare. something was up. there was a different part of the story that you weren’t aware of.

“ji… i don’t think i’m in proper condition to drive right now.”

“fine then. ill get changbin hyung to pick you up. please? it’s urgent.”, he begged.

“i… okay just- let me get ready”

you quickly throw on some clothes, careful to hide the bump. you knew you were going to tell seungmin once you got there. it was too much to hold on your own. 

changbin came to pick you up, and the drive there felt like torture. you just wanted to see seungmin again. as much as he hurt you, you missed him a lot.

you made small talk with changbin, but not much. he knew you were nervous, but he tried to distract you as much as you could. 

once you made it to the building you ran as fast as you possibly could.

you ran to his room and knocked. 

“seungmin it’s me. please open the door…”

seungmin rushed to open his door. he thought he was hallucinating.

your heart fell to your stomach when you saw him. bloodshot eyes, dark eyebags. his hair was a mess, he was a mess. his clothes were everywhere, things from his desk scattered all over the floor.

you slowly make your way into his room, careful not to scare him off. 

“seungmin…”

he slowly sunk to his knees in front of you, his mouth hung slightly agape.

he begins to smother your bump in kisses. your mind goes blank. he starts crying even more when he sees how big it’s really gotten, holding it in his two hands. 

he sunk down even lower, and he just hugged his knees and cried even harder.

you were at a loss for words. you didn’t know he knew, but you didn’t think you did a great job at hiding it anyways. you sat on the bed silently, right next to him. he was still crying, just at the foot of the bed.

“i’m so sorry…”, he mumbled out. 

it was the only thing you could hear him say within all the mumbling. 

“please, i’m so sorry”

“y/n, i’m so sorry”

his hands shook as he crawled towards you, tears hitting the floor with a splash. 

“i love you so much. i lied y/n. i love you to the ends of the world. i just… i didn’t know how much longer i could take seeing you like that. i thought it’d be better for you if i just left. you could’ve moved on and found someone better. your baby could’ve had a better dad, one who was actually present in their life and-“

“seungmin. you’re rambling”, you cut him off.

“i know i am, but i really have to explain. i want you back so bad y/n. you haven’t left my mind at all. i need you y/n. so much it hurts. i haven’t been the same since i met you. i’ve been so used to keeping to myself but then i got attached. i miss you. i miss us. i just knew i couldn’t keep hurting you… so i left. but now i just regret it and i was so stupid and-“

he stops talking when you reach a hand down to him and help him up. his knees wobble as he stands, but he gets up and sits down on the bed.

“i’m so sorry pup…”

you didn’t answer him, you just held him for a bit. you let him cry into your chest, even though you were still in pain. you were glad you had some closure now. you knew that he still loved you, but you couldn’t take him back. you had to know that he wouldn’t do anything like that again. 

“seungmin, you have to start telling me these things. if anything, take a break. you can’t let all of this pile onto you, there has to be some way you can let it out. talk to me, please.”

“do you still-“, a hiccup, “-love me?”

you couldn’t help but smile a little. you wipe the tears off of his face and pinch his cheek a little. “of course i do min. i don’t think i could ever stop”

“be my wife”

your heart jumped right back up. “what?”

he quickly ran to go grab the box that was on the floor, pulling out a gorgeous black diamond ring.

“i love you y/n. i truly want to spend the rest of my life with you. take me back, please.”, his voice was sincere, still shaky from all the crying. 

you were in shock, you really wanted to accept but you were scared he’d leave again. “promise me you won’t leave me again seungmin”

“i won’t. i promise if i get you back i’ll never let you go”

you let out a light sigh and smiled. you wrapped your arms around him, foreheads touching, “i love you minnie”

he held your wrist and put the small band on your finger. 

letting out a shaky breath, he pulls you in for another kiss. his tears dripped onto your nose as he pushed you further onto the bed, now hovering over you.

“i love you so much y/n. thank you”, he says between kisses. you can feel him smile against you, his velvety lips waltzing with yours.

he cups your baby bump with his hands and kisses all around it.

“how far in are you”, he smiled up at you.

you couldn’t resist the way his gentle eyes looked at you. he just looked so adorable like this right now. you use your hands to cup his face and pull him up. 

you stare into his eyes, “i’m six months in… she’s a girl”. tears leave his eyes once again, kissing you softly.

“i love you both so much, i promise i’ll never leave you again.”

he kisses you again, this time more sensually. soft ‘i love you’s echoing throughout the room. you missed him so much, you were happy he finally realized it.

his hands travel up your waist, still kissing down your neck. light red heart-shaped splotches appear all across your collarbone.

every kiss feels like your heart and body is being set on fire. you were so happy to finally have him after so long.

suddenly, the door flings wide open, the boys all piling on top of eachother like dominos.

“YOHHH I SAID NOT TO LEAN ON THE DOOR”, you heard changbin yell.

“IM SORRY JEEZ- I COULDNT HEAR BECAUSE THEY WENT QUIET”, hyunjin yelled back. you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. they all scramble to get up and leave the room. 

chan lingers for a little bit. “congratulations you two”, he says with a bright smile, “you’re both going to be amazing parents”

seungmin settles down next to you on the bed, hugging your body as tightly as he could. “can i just hold you for a bit?”

“of course minnie”, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much he looked like a puppy right now.

“i missed you y/nnie”

“i missed you so much more min.”

his hand meets yours and he gives it a squeeze, playing with the dainty diamond that decorated your ring finger. he was ready to start this new chapter of his life with you, as long as he had you and his baby girl by his side.

<3

[luci4theminorannoyance]

heyyy!! you may or may not see this so i might send it again but i actually have a self aware idea that i kinda wanna write myself too but i wanna see how you make it:

self aware kreuger and keegan who’s like in love with us or something and we’re like a commentary youtuber who does videos on icebergs, deep dives into video games or controversial/problematic things

HELP ik this is confusing so here are some examples

(i love both of these youtubers to death btw go subscribe to them they make fire videos)

and call of duty happened to be what we were gonna be covering in our video and we were gonna talk about it’s history, the problematic parts of the fandom, cosplaying on social media, and what cod became today and all that jazz

again i might resend just incase you dont see it but you dont have to do this !! i also plan on writing my interpretation of this and stuff so watch out for that hehe x

i saw this as romantic and gn reader would be great but its up to you !!

a/n: woah this is a super cool idea!!! I am not truly equipped to do all of this but I’ll see if I can make it live up to such a cool concept 🥲

Keegan:

-Keegan had watched you for months, from the screen as you sat on the loading selection page, or while you deeply dived into little bits of characters or chats or simply played to take notes… it was cute, watching you work so hard on something

-luckily for him, you recorded it in the same room too and it gave him an awful lot of information on his ‘world’ or at least what he was to your point of view and how others viewed everything about his life, other people, and anything related

-it was hard to accept of course, but Keegan didn’t shatter under the weighing pressure that his world wasn’t fully real. As he had you now. And that was more then enough for him

-he’d voice specific lines about lore you would otherwise have to Google for hours, diving into files you couldn’t reach and finding out what you had been oh so stressed about the night before while going through nitty gritty details

-he felt his blood boil just a tiny bit every time he heard you replaying videos of less then correct interpretations of himself, or of some cosplayer making him a man he wasn’t. It was nice attention though, he couldn’t deny that.

-oh he couldn’t wait to tell you all about what you wanted to know, or to hear about you for once… he wanted to know so badly what your favorite color was or why you do videos, but he could wait a bit longer to tell you, hopefully

Krueger:

-LOVES hearing your voice when you film, when you talk, when you sigh over new drama to cover or giggle when you get some traction on a post, since it means the very world to him

-he’s slightly scared you’ll set down the game as soon as your done with the video on Call of Duty. He doesn’t want to be alone again, not after he’s come to the conclusion of his life not being real

-what if you set down the game and don’t come back? What if you give up on the video? What if it doesn’t do well so you don’t post about call of duty again and you forget all about him

-makes him scared and antsy to tell you, to signal you that he’s there. That he’s alive or at least as alive as pixels can be

-he wants to hold you and squeeze you and tell you all the things you spend time researching or chuckle with you and having you hear him properly

-at least he’s figured out some semblance of a quick way to get to the internet, and he plays your videos on repeat, time after time to hear your voice and to see your smile

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

hiii 🫶🏽 i’m so sorry you’re going through a tough time and i hope it improves soon!!💙 college is suuuuper stressful, especially with life outside of school it can get overwhelming so your feelings are completely understandable and i hope you’re alright. 🫂🤍

i am by no means a writer, but maybe little sister!winchester:

- always tries to mimic the boys because they’re the coolest people she knows. so like if dean is rocking out in the impala bobbing his head, drumming and humming, she’ll start trying to imitate him.

- the boys of course realize this after a while and find it amusing. dean tries to get her to mimic certain behaviors and sam has to be the one to draw a line sometimes lol

- she is a picky eater. which is hard enough considering they don’t have many options to choose from most of the time but usually they’re able to convince her with something simple like the promise of a bedtime story

- she likes being held by her brothers, not only because they’re her comfort but because the height makes her feel safer too 😭

- idk i feel like she’d get anxious a lot because she’s so short and small and surrounded by all these tall adults, but as soon as they lift her and she’s like 6ft up in the arms of her brothers she instantly relaxes

- which means she usually has a hard time sleeping without them putting her to sleep but they don’t mind because she falls asleep fairly quickly most of the time.

- i’d think that’s because as much as they try to shelter her from the life she’s still generally aware enough of ‘the monsters that hide in the closet’ and she’s constantly anxious which tires her out.

- so with her brothers and the right setting she can fall asleep in less than 10 minutes. the only times it takes forever for her to settle in and sleep is when one of the brothers are out and about

- she is bobbys favorite 100%. he can act grumpy all he wants especially when she wants to put stickers on him or gets marker stains on the table, but he obviously favors her :p

- she goes quiet if she’s feeling unwell.

- like she will talk a lot usually, but if she says maybe one or two words in 20 minutes, the boys start to get concerned

- they of course always take care of her and as you’ve written before they’ll be an anxious mess the whole time until she feels better

i’m not sure if i did this whole headcanon thing right but these are some of my thoughts 😅 (little!sister winchester being like less than 8 in all of these)

i hope your day gets better!!🫶🏽 i adore your writing and appreciate you for sharing it :)💗 have a lovely day!!<3

I’m not alright but hopefully I will be, thanks 😅.

Oh my gosh these headcannons are literally so cute, thanks so much! This is exactly what I needed, you’re awesome 💜💜💜

[possibilistfanfiction]

i really enjoyed the back and forth that cait and vi had where she asks her whether she’s been to university. i think they’re two people that match each other’s energy so well and truly understand each other even when they were just getting to know each other.

so maybe a prompt where they have their first big fight that they haven’t been able to work through like they usually do and jinx is the bridge that connects them both and helps them see where the other is coming from? i love reading about jinx’s relationship with the two of them and how she still struggles with thoughts of letting vi go to be loved by cait too.

[jinx the mvp, 10/10 little sister. lots of u wanted some more jinx interacting with cait / vi + cait which like same! additionally, p obviously hints at autistic cait bc 10/10 also. their argument is truly so dumb but hard relate lol]

//

tense is an understatement, but, you swear, it's totally not your fault.

or, at least, you're mostly sure: you had a full day of classes, and then your lab work study, and you made out a little and then napped in ekko's dorm. you didn't sleep over because vi had told you that caitlyn was going to come over tonight, and, despite her being annoying and prissy and the two of them sometimes having sex loud enough you could hear it through the wall, she does always bring you the best takeout from all of your favorite restaurants, orders way more than you could afford. it was, definitely, a necessary bribe the first few times, but it's been almost half a year of cait and vi, so you've accepted your fate now; she doesn't need to know that, though, because it's fucking boiling outside and you can't wait for the fancy greek salad and fresh squeezed lemonade you know will be sitting in the fridge for you.

you expect to walk in to the two of them canoodling on the couch or some other gay activity like scrabble (vi is a horrible speller, so it's kind of pathetic, in your opinion, that she lets caitlyn suggest it and agrees every time) or watching killing eve for the bazillionth time (less pathetic, and much hotter, but still) or carefully compiling all of the gear you need for your climbing trip over the weekend (the best overall option, because, obviously, but it's still too devoted for your liking).

instead, when you open the door and go through your daily routine of flinging all of your stuff all over the entryway that vi insistently keeps spotless, just like the rest of the apartment other than your room, and yell honey, i'm home!, you're met with stony silence, and then a stressed, 'hey,' from vi, slumped over at the kitchen island, glumly sitting on a bar stool with her chin in her hand.

'uh, hello.' you rummage around in the fridge and easily find, just like you dreamed, your salad and lemonade, and there's even some baklava left out on the counter — more than one portion, and you kind of know, already, that things had really nosedived. you sit down next to vi. 'sooooooo... where's our esteemed dr. kiramman?'

vi sighs, totally put out. '"taking a walk,"' complete with air quotes.

you hmm around a bite of mostly feta, perfect in your book. 'first fight?'

vi pinches the bridge of her nose; her shoulders and jaw are set in a way that you recognize from your entire life watching her try not to cry.

'okay, well, what did you do that was wrong, and what did she do that was wrong?' vi turns to you, all of the anger seeping out of her glare when you hold up your hands in defeat. 'i mean, it's usually a two way street, right?'

'you've gone to way too much therapy.'

you laugh, and it gets vi to crack a smile. the reality is that you're going to be on a bunch of medications and in psychiatric care, hopefully outpatient, for the rest of your life, but, honestly, you're basically killing it: you're hot, brilliant, and haven't had any delusions or psychotic episodes in well over a year — total triple threat.

you nudge vi in the shoulder. 'so what happened?'

'i don't even know,' she laments, genuinely dramatic. 'we were having dinner, and things were fine, i was telling her about one of the calls i went on today, and then she just, i don't know. started acting really short with me, and irritated for no reason, and it just... spiraled, i guess. we were both frustrated, and i was unkind, and she cried, and then she said she needed to take a walk.'

you finish chewing your bite. 'well, that doesn't sound, like, horrible. and, no offense, i'm sure she had a reason.'

vi picks at the mostly-healed scab on one of her knuckles. 'i have so many shortcomings, compared to her.'

you roll your eyes. 'you're the best person i know. i will deny it until the day i die, but you are, vi.' sometimes, you still want to keep vi all to yourself, but she's been happier these past six months than you've ever seen her. 'you know that's not what i meant.'

'whatever.'

'look, i'm sure it's more than just you.' caitlyn is, overall, a fairly patient person, and she's been gentle to your sister in the most important ways.

'you just said it was because of me.'

you groan. 'this is why you got in a fight. did you have a bad day too?'

the scab on her knuckle comes off and the cut underneath starts to bleed; vi presses her thumb into it. you hand her a napkin instead, waiting patiently until she takes it. maybe your petulance was an inherited trait, you think. 'i couldn't get someone's pet out in time. a cat; i just couldn't find it, and, i don't know. it's my job, and i did all i could, and i got yelled at for staying inside too long, and i'm just —' tears well at her eyes, and she's always been so soft — 'i'm so tired. i didn't want to have a fight.'

shushing her with platitudes would never go well, but you've grown to understand that vi missed five years of gentle touch, probably when she needed it the most. it's not often you get to take care of her, but you're thankful you can help now, at least a little. she leans into your hug and cries into your shoulder, and you just let her. 'you gotta stop staying in burning buildings too long, you know. scares the shit out of me.'

'i know,' vi mumbles into your shoulder. 'i don't — i don't mean to. scare you, at least.'

'well, maybe cait was scared. maybe, she didn't express it well.'

'that... could be part of it,' vi admits, perking up a little: that's not insurmountable.

'it's good, you know, that she took a walk. great coping skill, grounding through bilateral movement.' vi stares at you blankly, although it's just an act because she's been to years of your therapy with you and knows exactly what to do when you're having a hard time. you personally haven't talked to caitlyn outright about details, either, but you're sure vi has and you're definitely not unaware: caitlyn stims, like, all the time, in subtle ways but ones you recognize, and she hates eggs because of their texture, and you've watched her have little mini meltdowns over crags being crowded, or traffic being worse than it showed on the map; just last week when vi got her annual "summer haircut" without telling caitlyn first she'd excused herself for a moment to, you're pretty sure, cry in the bathroom — nothing to do with control, only needing more processing time and space to adjust to change. 'i'm sure her brain gets overwhelmed sometimes, too. big emotions, and being tired, and eating noises? nightmare blunt rotation, for me at least.'

vi thinks about it for a moment, and then she, thankfully, laughs. 'you wouldn't last a day in prison.'

'so true,' you say, and you don't let the grief eat at you, not right now. 'but you did, and you should eat your baklava before she comes back.'

vi looks at the dessert, a little stressed, but you just shrug and offer her a small fork from the drawer.

'i'm going to my room to eavesdrop.' you grin and put your share on a small plate. 'if you need me to cause a commotion, we can have a code word. i have plenty of things going on that would explode safely.'

'not too words that i feel confident in as a pairing.'

'thinking of the security deposit. very wise.'

it has its intended effect: vi snorts a laugh and takes a small bite, pleased at the honey and pasty and pistachio.

you squeeze her shoulder. 'love you, sis.'

she puts her hand on top of yours: always bigger, always stronger and steadier, always gentler. 'love you too.'

//

you do listen to them, whatever, once cait comes back. she apologizes, and then vi apologizes, and you live text the entire thing to ekko because otherwise it'd probably be too sappy to endure. they get at the heart of it pretty quick, mostly thanks to your advice to vi, thank you very much. apparently, caitlyn felt overstimulated from a few long work days with way too much masking, and the heatwave, and not enough sleep, and, unsurprisingly, you were right that she was frustrated with vi putting herself in danger and also chewing her gyro too loudly. vi had gotten frustrated because she was confused what she'd done wrong, and why caitlyn was upset, and she was really hungry because she'd skipped lunch so she already didn't want to have a long conversation while they ate, and, bigger than all of that, she always worries that she's not good enough, that she can't save everyone. her voice breaks a little when she explains.

'oh, darling,' caitlyn says, which, in ekko's words when you text him, barf, 'you can't save everyone.'

'yeah,' she croaks in a reluctant agreement.

'but you've done so well by your family, and those who love you. we don't need saving, we just need you.'

when vi starts to really cry at that, like, maybe you shed a tear or two as well, because caitlyn is an outsider. she hasn't know you your whole life, and she didn't know you when you had no idea what was real or not, when you thought vi — visiting you in that cold, damp tent, patiently, not forcing you to leave, for weeks on end — was some sort of ghost, when you spent days unable to fully wake up or stop moving, some horrible purgatory, when you were hospitalized and in withdrawal and the doctors hadn't figured out the right dosage of the right meds yet. even though you know vi has explained the basics, there's no way for caitlyn to fully understand that you did need saving — and vi did save you when no one else could.

but maybe she's right, at least now. you have a home and you know what's real, and vi isn't counting the endless, violent days of incarceration on her wall, tally marks stained in blood, and no one has done any big thing wrong; no one, really, is hurt.

ekko had dragged you into taking some queer poetics seminar, mostly because he wanted to and the idea of him pressing flowers into books and then reading you poems was not wholly unappealing, and you remember a fragment: i am not someone who likes to wound.

it's quiet, for a while, between the two of them, and then vi apologizes for causing even more sensory input by getting her tears on cait's shirt, and cait laughs, and you know vi is smiling, relieved.

'you can come out now, jinx,' vi calls, and you roll your eyes but you do go out to the living room to find them curled on the couch together before caitlyn gets up and pours herself a glass of wine and opens a beer for vi. you can't ever have alcohol, not on the long list of meds you have to take, but vi had gotten you a bunch of non-alcoholic beer to try: you don't have to say it, not anymore, but sometimes you still just really want to be like your big sister. ekko's gotten really into mocktail mixology for parties, and cait has brought over non-alcoholic wine too, a bottle every now and then. love shows up in all forms, so often.

you sit in your favorite reading chair, fluffy and overstuffed, while they get situated back on the couch, and accept the glass — the beer perfectly poured, annoying — from cait before she settles in.

'all good?'

vi hums and looks at caitlyn adoringly, and caitlyn runs her thumb over the tattoo on vi's cheek.

'ooookay, i'll take that as a yes. are you sure you don't want time for some more... intimate reconciliation? i can go to ekko's or hang out on vander's patio.'

'that's okay,' caitlyn says, and vi squeezes her hand. you get it: sometimes you don't really like touch, not like vi literally always does, especially when the world already feels too close and loud and sharp. but vi is kind, and she does her best to understand, and so they sit a little ways apart, just holding hands; you turn on housewives, because you and vi had succeeded in getting caitlyn invested and you were supposed to watch the new episode tonight anyway.

they both fall asleep on the couch later, vi's head in caitlyn's lap while she runs her fingers up and down the grain of vi's soft hair, nodding off eventually. you take a picture and send it to ekko before you get up to go try to wind down to sleep.

disgusting, he texts back. love them tbh

ugh. same

[venus-vault]

Campion Hall : An Iteration

Mr. Reed × Fem! Reader (18+)

Synopsis : Pt. 1 - Upon returning to Oxford, (y/n) struggles with the harsh realities of a long-distance relationship...

⚠️TW: Texting, College Setting, Mention of Possible SA, Depression & Stress Mentions, Female Masturbation, Age Gap, General Melancholy 📖

a/n : ◇ hi!! I'm not sure this is my best work, but efforts were made. Life has been throwing a lot at me lately, so it's possible this is all just incoherent drivel, but hopefully it's enjoyable incoherent drivel 😅

Lighting a votive and setting the record onto its platter, I adjust the needle precisely before timing its drop. I flick the speed switch, pad across the room, back to bed and there are few seconds of silence before bell tolls and:

'swingin in the back yard, pull up in your fast car, whistlin my name...'

Slinking back under the covers, I wrap Mr. Reed's cardigan taut around myself and shut my eyes to inhale the smoky cardamom scent of his cologne.

'heaven is a place on earth with you, tell me all the things you wanna do, I heard that you like the bad girls honey, is that true?'

I miss him, it's been a month since Christmas. I wish I could've stayed in America, is he as depressed as I am? If I tell him how much I miss him will I sound dramatic? Does he miss me like this? Need me like this? I reach down to the side of my bed, opening my 2 day old emotional support Ribena and swigging the last of it as I open WhatsApp.

Me: hey

Reed: Hello, (y/n). You're texting me at 2am why? x

Me: idk. Why r u up so late?

Reed: 7pm in Boulder. I think you'll find *you* are the one up late. What's up?

Me: miss u. Listening to video games 💕

Reed: Having a wallow? I assume you're in that tatty old sweater again as well?

I look myself over, the cardigan is not tatty in any way whatsoever, and sometimes I hate how well he can predict me.

Me: not tatty + smells like you, shut up pls

Reed: Promise you won't fall into an audio-fueled masochistic depression spiral without me around, please. Worried. x

Me: no need 2 worry, promise. Just a little down since new years

Reed: Flip the record. Track 3. Posthaste. x

A small smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth and I pop out of bed again, resetting the record and adjusting the player's needle. This time, a lighter, less wistful feeling takes hold as Lana informs me that:

'my pussy tastes like Pepsi cola, my eyes are wide like cherry pies-'

His eyes, hands, his lips, the words and sounds that fell from them, all instantly flood my mind and I can't help but smile. This time, when I let myself sink into a chair and shut my eyes, we're in his kitchen, kissing, dancing. In his bedroom, fucking. In his living room, speaking with a simmering undertone that could blister through the surface at any moment- goosebumps stipple my skin at the thought and I wish I was there now.

These memories immediately wash away my melancholy and reaffirm my feelings as reality. What we have isn't farce. I didn't imagine it. We're connected. We understand each other. He wants me. I am his national anthem. He is my million dollar man. We will reunite and it'll be just like it was.

Better than it was.

Me: thx. feeling better. u always know what i need. btw when can u visit?? 🥺💕

Reed: Been anticipating your needs since we met. Soonest I can manage is 3 weeks out, would be in town for 2 weeks then. Is that workable with your current course schedule?

Me: Yes! pls come!!

Reed: Campion Hall, was it?

Me: yeah, on brewer

Reed: I'll book something at the Ethos across the river and you can stay with me during that time. That way you won't miss any vital courses.

Me: "vital" as if my entire course schedule isn't just analysis 🙄

Reed: Maybe so, but I won't let you slip behind just because I'll be in town.

Me: understood, excited to see you!!

Reed: And I you.

Me: will there be proof of this excitement upon arrival?

Reed: Will there be proof of yours *prior* to my arrival? x

Me: if u want me you'll just have to fly over here and get me 😇

Reed: Patience. x

Me: posthaste

Reed: Insufferable girl. Can't wait to see you. Get some sleep.

He'll visit. He's coming. He's serious. About us. About me, and I can't stop grinning as I rise to blow out my candle, shut off the record player, and shimmy back under the covers.

I fall into a dead sleep almost immediately which turns out to be a good thing because at 9a.m. sharp, there's a frantic knock at my door. I already know who this is, what it's about, and he's lucky I'm well rested enough to deal with his bullshit this time.

I pad to the door, buttoning Mr. Reed's cardigan over my pajamas and yank it open.

The shrimp-postured, spindly, spotty imitation of manhood stood before me is this floor's premiere serial perv-turned-RA, Keiran. Rumors have circulated recently about him attempting to violate some poor freshers at a nearby pub and subsequently being banned, and his slimy demeanor has done nothing to quash them.

I paint on a simper anyways as I look him over, annoyed, and he returns the favor.

"Keiran! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"(y/n), I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you to stop burning candles and playing your music so loud at all hours, but I figure one more couldn't hurt. Keep it down and pitch the candle, yeah?"

"Strong maybe."

"Make it a strong yes."

"But a strong yes from a woman would taint your sterling reputation,"

"I'll report you to the housing board."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"Why haven't you then?"

"Because..." his eyes travel my body in a way that makes me want to rip my skin off "because I believe... that you are capable of change." He punctuates this with a sympathetic expression and a stern nod and I can't help but roll my eyes at him.

"Keiran, listen, it's a candle and some very soft Lana Del Rey. Solution is simple. Take your ear off my wall. And your nose for that matter."

"I have never put any part of myself to your wall, and frankly, I resent the accusation." He declares, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down his nose at me like I owe him an apology. Which ranks high on the long list of things I've decided he'll never recieve from me.

"I'm sure you resent all sorts of accusations..." I mumble under my breath, looking around aimlessly.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look. If I want to burn a candle for less than an hour in the dead of night is it... really.... that big a deal?" I blink up at him like I'm truly sorry and it won't happen again. I'm not, it absolutely will, and he knows this.

So to really sell my repentance, I bring a few fingertips to the side of his arm, trailing up and down in little circles as I pout. He melts, flushing at the slightest contact and if he were an attractive or good person, that might read as endearing. His eyes snap to mine and he takes on a more serious tone as I retract my hand.

"Fine. This is your last warning, though. If I hear anything out of sorts, anything at all, from the other side of that wall past...erm... 10 p.m., that's a report! Mark my words." He points a finger at me in a way I'm sure he believes is threatening and I smile at him. Men are just too easy sometimes.

"Right. Thanks Special K, great chat!" I fling the door shut, clicking the lock just in case.

"Twenty-seventh bloody time..." I hear him mutter from the hallway, and have to stifle a cackle as his footsteps disappear.

At the end of a day of lectures and an entirely too wordy typed analysis of how Camus' influence comes through in the works of Sartre, I'm wiped.

I take a long chug of the water bottle I've stored in my bag and jam my keys into the door, shutting it behind me and flopping onto the plush single bed to check my phone's lockscreen. Tumblr notifications, course reminder emails, some article from Dad about not overworking yourself, Duolingo demands I stop neglecting the French language, Instagram : ☆*•Chels•*☆ liked your post, and finally, at the end of the list, WhatsApp.

Reed: Your dormitory hall is on Brewer St., what's the address number there?

I open the app and tap back :

5

Reed: Thanks. x

I don't respond, he'll be here in a few weeks and I don't want to seem over-eager.

As I'm settling in with a book and some tea, another frantic set of knocks at the door. I may kill him. I yank the door open and there's Keiran, stupid as ever.

"Right, so I was wondering if you'd like to maybe... go somewhere later? Like a drink type thing, downtown?"

"For the... its the fifth time now, yeah?" He shrugs, and as I cross my arms over my chest I wish he'd keep his eyes to himself "for the fifth time then, no. I would rather be struck dead than find myself alone with you in or out of public."

"And if I said I'd report you to the housing board?"

"You threaten to report me to the housing board every week! I'd report you to the ethics council. I'm sure they'd be very intrigued to hear about the recent and known exploits of their most devoted student life coordinator."

"The claims those girls are making are baseless and you know it."

"Hm... But they're not, are they? Three girls, don't know eachother, all know you, all at the pub that night saying you were picking at them, vulture you are... it'd be a PR nightmare for the university... their top boy turning out to be a complete creep."

"You wouldn't."

"I would. Now stop bothering me."

I close the door in his face and return to my tea, which has gone cold. Fucking Keiran. Fucking Jesuit college making men feel entitled. Today has been too much. As far as I knew previously, the allegations against him were just rumors, all but confirmed now though. Makes my skin crawl.

I open my phone and send Mr. Reed a quick message:

I really really miss you ☹️

I undress from the day, tossing my jeans, bra and long-sleeve into the hamper and throwing on a sleep shirt. Flopping onto the bed, I pop in earpods. I decide on 'Religion', and let my eyes close as I take in a few slow, deep breaths.

'everything is fine now, let sleeping dogs lay,

all our minds made up now,all our beds are made

no one's out of time, no

chips fall where they may

leave it all behind, let the ocean wash away'

My mind drifts naturally to Mr. Reed, what he might be doing... what we've done... what I need him to do to wash away all this stress... all this tension...

If he were here... he'd probably wrap me up in his arms. Let me go slack. Melt me just with his presence, strength supporting my weakness, hands cleansing me of all this with a few light, deft touches... the depression, the stress, the annoyance and anger...

'cause you're my religion, you're how I'm living

when all my friends say I should take some space

Well I can't envision, that for a minute

when I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray'

I can't take it, and let myself have something good for once, imagining my hands are his as I let them roam my body. I can just imagine what he'd say, what he'd do, if he saw me like this: flushed, hot, needy for him... how he'd tell me I'm dirty, naughty, impatient, unrestrained, a bad girl, a good girl, beautiful, glorious, Brilliant...

As my body unravels itself, I can almost hear him: 'not so contrarian now, are we?'

As I come down from climax I'm warm, buzzing, blissed out, at peace. He'll be here soon. It'll all be alright.

But damn is it going to be inconvenient in the meantime. I pluck the earpods from my head, snapping them into their case, and check my messages again. No response. I circulate through various social media accounts before my brain and body come to an agreement: it is time to sleep. And I do, dreamless and serene.

Around 10:45 a.m., I'm awoken again by a series of knocks, less urgent than yesterday's, I assume because even Keiran must tire of his own bullshit.

I drag myself to the door, well aware another verbal sparring session is underway, and swing it open without even looking up.

"Listen, K, while I marvel at your ability to chastise and objectify me at the same time, I also think you should shove-"

When I finally drag my gaze upward, it's not Keiran.

Part 2》

[grison-in-space]

Hey hey! Wyrd told me you trained your dog to help with executive dysfunction stickyness/ repetitive action and I would LOVE to know how you trained this. I am training my pet to do a few in-home things before I get my prospect in hopefully this year

Oh, hi! There's a longer post about this topic elsewhere in my Matilda tag you might want to check out.

A lot of my training approach is informed by the experimenting I did with alarms that interact with other senses besides acoustics during COVID. I got completely nonresponsive to phone alarms and things, and I was under a truly catastrophic amount of stress related to my PhD at the time, so my general functioning wasn't great and I really NEEDED external cues to trigger basic daily tasks. Unfortunately I have a pretty impressive ability to hyperfocus right past obnoxious alarms, and worse, I am very very good at absently turning alarms off or mimicking paying attention without actually pulling my focus away from the subject of my attention. You get a 5-30sec buffer of retained information for the purposes of holding up a conversation which I am continuously dumping. I am not necessarily doing it consciously, but that doesn't make it not frustrating. Especially because if a human does get my attention, many years of RSD tends to set me at hyper defensive right out of the gate. That's not ideal for a bunch of reasons.

Anyway, I found that vibration or tactile stimuli, as well as visual stimuli (I rigged a disco lamp to turn on at hourly intervals in a desperate attempt to track the passage of time), worked quite well to capture my attention and let me step out of hyperfocus enough to do the next thing. I figured eventually I would have to see humans in their meat suits again and people get weird about shit like this, so I needed something relatively discreet and quiet that shouldn't be disruptive to anyone else. I started thinking about building myself aids.

So the first idea I had was to just program a series of alarms into a smartwatch that could automatically attach them to alerts from my gcal, but it turns out that they don't have an api function that hooks up to stuff like "make watch buzz" and I ran out of bandwidth to deal with it. It eventually just seemed easier to train an entire dog to respond to a quiet alarm than to fight with the hardware and software to make a really good buzzwatch. I use a couple of different alarm ring tones to cue different actions just as you might train any dog to a word: this one means we go to the bedroom, that one means that if you take meds I get candy, and so forth. The actual sound of the alarm is a cue in its own right. I have some discussion in that other post about how I encouraged my dog to essentially play a game with me where she had to figure out how to get my attention without hurting (aka NO SCREAMING WITH YOUR VERY LOUD HIGH PITCHED BARK). Essentially, I'm shaping that out of whatever behaviors she offers me that successfully catch my attention, defined operationally to her as "standing up + sustained eye contact."

In terms of catching me when I'm tending to get stuck on something or stationary without moving, that one is less "Yes I and my dog are amazing and I've trained her to read my mind" and more "I don't make eye contact when I'm dissociating and I almost always am staring into my phone." So if Matilda catches me drifting across the kitchen glued to phone, she knows that if she rockets up and nudges me into paying attention to my body, she'll get a reward. Consequentially, she's a bit enthusiastic about this one and will sometimes ram passersby with her nose, so definitely figure out your failure modes before you teach the dogs anything.

[msmargaretmurry]

I’m rotating Matthew Tkachuck in my head right now and trying to figure out what’s an interesting direction to take him in, in general, in a post SCF win world. Real Matthew is obviously living his best life right now but I feel like there’s interesting things to explore with fanon Matthew. What angst avenues remain after he’s reached the dream of every hockey player in the show, fulfilled the expectations put on him by putting the tkachuk name on the cup? I’ve always liked stories that explore characters after they reached their ultimate goal and the ‘now what?’ question that they have to answer, I’m having trouble figuring what that ‘now what?’ is for Matthew beyond play more hockey and win more cups. As the foremost Matthew Knower I know, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

(Also needless to say i’d love hearing the extra mattdrai take on this too, either already established pre-SCF, broke up before SCF, or never even got together yet)

OK HI ANON i am so sorry for taking so long to answer this! and thank you for sending such a fun and interesting question!! as usual this got long so i'll put it under the read more.

so first of all i've definitely seen people say that matthew is less interesting to them fannishly now that his narrative is "over" — he won the cup, he's getting married, he's got his ideal happy ending, etc — and i do understand that, both theoretically and having seen it happen before in fandom (after the caps finally won the cup fannish hockey interest in them seemed to drop off SO abruptly at the time, lol). which is fine! if the thing someone was most invested in was the narrative and the narrative concludes, if the tension they were interested in is no longer there, it's natural to move on to new victims players of interest.

however, anon, i like you am for better or worse still invested 😂 and despite writing almost nothing this past year (i cannot express enough how burnt out grad school had me, but i have WAY better plans for stress management this year, hooray for having writing time again) i have been rotating our beloved rat boy CONSTANTLY on the gas station hotdog roller in my mind. he is one those players who obviously i enjoy him as a real person and a hockey player but for fanfiction purposes i find him so interesting for his potential as a character, and that character is only very loosely tied to his real life circurmstances and is a separate, totally fictional entity from the real guy. so while the real matthew is living the dream, and i am so happy for and proud of him, i still have fictional matthew in my head like, well i can do whatever i want with you, lol.

so i think what maybe makes it more difficult for people to stay invested fannishly in situations like this is the (understandable) tendency to set "canon" fic (fics that aren't full AUs) in the here-and-now, and matthew's here-and-now, like we said, just doesn't have that much obvious tension and conflict, and the tension and conflict are what make for great stories! so i take a few different approaches here, and hopefully you will find one or some of them interesting or useful.

firstly i totally agree that "what now" stories are great. you've achieved everything you ever dreamed of — what now? well, as a writer, you figure out why that wasn't enough and then you send your character on a journey to figure that out, too. and honestly a lot of the time this is just about making shit up! like, in haw matthew is such an anxious character — obviously matthew in real life is not anxious like his haw counterpart, but haw!matthew has something real matthew doesn't have: his big gay secret that is constantly weighing on him and stressing him out, so the anxiousness (hopefully) makes sense, character-wise. with matthew as a character i am almost always ignoring his real-life love life (i have just never been a person to include real wags in my fic in any major way) so my immediate thought is: if he has the cup, but not the engagement, how does that make things different? is he lonely? does he need to admit to himself that he's lonely, or is he already aware and making a choice to stay that way? or, maybe he uses the cup press as a way to come out, and he's dealing with all of that? maybe he gets caught putting his tongue in some guy's mouth during the drunken cup celebrations and he's dealing with that. (insert matthew pairing of choice into any of this, obviously.)

or maybe we want a fic that lets him have the whole happy ending, cup and wedding and everything. fast-forward five, ten, fifteen years, and how has that happiness lasted? like, he's pretty young, he has a lot of career ahead of him! will he be content as his career winds down if in all those years he hasn't had another sniff at the cup? does his (fictional) marriage last (obviously not, if we're going to have him sucking dick in a supply closet or w/e, but ykwim)? does he get to end his career on his own terms? there are whole worlds of futurefic out there for exploring what happens when all your dreams come true so young and so you spend the rest of your life chasing that high.

and then there is like, we can write fic set in the past! we're allowed to do that! if we still want to write about calgary matthew or pre-cup matthew and explore the conflicts and tensions in those parts of his life, we can do that! i think that his first two years in florida are SO ripe especially for like, matthew/sasha or matthew/benny or other fic with his teammates culminating in that cup run. like with good romance novels, knowing it has the best possible ending doesn't make the journey less interesting. we love that real matthew has his real happy ending; it could be really fun to recreate that journey for him with bonus matthew/[insert hockey man of choice here] content. (obviously i love matthew/leon, but i really will read anything 😂 so this is me encouraging all pairings.)

and then for ME there is a particularly delicious option, one of my favorite types of of hrpf fic in general, with the canon divergence au. we have seen matthew live his dream; what happens if something in his life happened that derailed his path to it? how does he reach that level of joy and contentness and peace with himself if his perfect cup/engagement summer is taken out of his reach? i'm talking your classic career-ending injury aus, something else happens to derail his career aus, etc. maybe not for everyone and maybe not quiet what you're thinking about with a "what next" type of fic, but i love this shit so much, so i have to include it here.

finally, OBVIOUSLY, the matthew and leon of it all!!!!! like, man, WHAT a wrench to throw into our beautiful wonderful made-up mattdrainiverse. i think there are such fun possibilities in every version of the scenario like you mentioned — established relationship, broken up, not together yet, a fourth secret thing, etc. for established relationship, the question of, does this break them up (and then you the writer has to get them back together) (if you're feeling nice)? if not, how do they get past it? if they're exes, does it weirdly ignite something between them again, and how does that go? and honestly my favorite might be the "not together yet" option, just because the journey for leon getting over that resentment and growing feelings could be soooooooo good.

and i think maybe that is the key to post-cup fic for them, for me, if the fic is going to end with them happy together? is, whatever their relationship, taking leon's feelings about the cup seriously — his resentment, his pain, his annoyance, what have you — and showing me that journey of processing those feelings and getting to a place where even if he's not happy for matthew, he is happy with him. and on matthew's side, his own feelings — refusing to be sorry for winning, refusing to tamp down his joy, etc — are obviously also important, and i think there could be some really good conflict there as they butt heads and work through all that.

but every fic doesn't have to deal with that whole-ass emotional journey, obvs. not every fic has to be a 60k feelings journey 😂 one-shot encounters, hate-fucking pwps, whatever, they can all be delicious. (unsolicited fic rec, @hopetorun recently wrote me this matthew/leon post-cup fic that packs a punch in 10k.) for me though i think these feelings about the cup need to be centered in the post-cup era, even if they don't get nicely resolved. even if it's set 15 years in the future, those feelings are still going to be there, and whatever happens between them is going to be messy and complicated. and we all know i love mess 🥰

anyway, i'm not actually sure if i answered your question here but i hope it did! regardless, i had fun thinking about all this, and that's the most important thing!

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[kimbap-r0ll]

What dorm leaders may do when stressed

Uni's kicking me and hopefully won't for the next week haha (may you all be blessed with less work soon)

Riddle

I feel like he would be under pressure 24/7 he thinks it's weird when he doesn't feel any :/ (it's giving toxic)

Academics never really stressed him out while at NRC but if there was something it would be his duties as dorm leader. He loves his job sure, but it comes with its own set of work. Add Ace, Deuce, Grim to the list of things he has to keep an eye out for and he really starts to feel tired haha

He will likely have more caffeine than usual, opting for tea over coffee. He also tends to sleep less, saying that while it's better to sleep more, he needs to get things done.

He's a bit more agitated, you can tell he's stressed by seeing the number of students he's had to behead go up. You may also spot Trey talking to him more, maybe sneaking him a sweet treat to help him push through exam week or so haha

If he has an s/o, he wouldn't want them to worry about him so he'll just try his best to hide it. However, if his s/o were to give him something nice during stressful times, he will be extremely grateful (expect him to give them something in return)

Leona

He tries to stop work before it gets stressful and he's surprisingly good at it. Either he gets work done beforehand (very rare) or he just doesn't do it at all (extremely likely).

He gets stressed about other things than academics since he's already pretty good at most subjects. I feel like what stresses him out would be familial things, or at least ones pertaining to his brother and whatnot.

When he's stressed he tends to be a little bit more on edge, a little more snarky. But overall, he'll be sleeping more and less likely to actually fight someone. If a random student is bothering him for example, he'll usually hit the lightly on the shoulder and tell them to stop. In times of stress, he tends to just walk away and hope the student doesn't follow him (doesn't have the energy to bother)

If he has an s/o, he's more clingy. It's a little surprising coming from someone who usually tries to convince his s/o to leave him alone, but when he's stressed he wants more attention. Definitely pulled his s/o to a nap more than once

Azul

He's like Riddle, he thinks it's weird when he's not under pressure and will constantly look for ways to get himself stressed :/

He gains most of his stress from his physical appearance, mainly because of his childhood. However, he also gets stressed from wanting to maintain a perfect image. He wants to get good at every class, wants to be a good businessman for the school lounge, etc.

He's a coffee addict, but this will only grow when he's stressed out. Will he consume more than four cups of coffee? Yes. Is he ok? No. He also is a bit more snappy when he's stressed, but you won't see him lash out or snap, more like a snarky comment here and there. Jade and Floyd will likely not mess around with him when he's stressed since they can't get a usually-flustered Azul out of him.

If he has an s/o, he will also be super clingy. It's not that surprising since he loves attention, but his s/o might have trouble studying themselves having to take care of Azul. The two of them should probably set up study dates instead if he wants to be around them 24/7.

Kalim

Probably has the healthiest work-life balance ever. He is rarely stressed out and if anything probably causes more stress to Jamil haha

He gets stressed out when he's dealing with a lot of exams (like most students) but he also gets stressed when he has a crush but has no idea how to approach it. So, he gets stressed out in more emotional, intimate things

You will likely never see this man stressed out, but if you do, you won't really notice it. He's surprisingly good at hiding how much pressure he's going through, but if you look closely you'll see that he's a bit jumpier than usual. He also has a bigger appetite, so expect frequent visits to Sam's shop for some snacks

If he has an s/o, he's also super clingy and wants them to take care of him. If the two of them are in the same class that he's stressed about, then the two of them definitely have all-nighters together. If he has a crush on someone, he will almost avoid them like the plague since he wants to approach them at the right time but has no idea if he can actually find a right timing

Vil

Constantly under pressure but never shows it. He has lived under immense pressure since he was a little kid, so he also thinks having no pressure at all is a little weird (though he wants a good break)

It's his career that stresses him out the most, more than his work at school. Sure, there are times students at Pomefiore put him off, but he's always stressed out about maintaining the perfect image whenever he has to go for a modeling event or when he's trying out for a new role for an upcoming film.

This man will be extremely cold when he's stressed out. He's more ruthless as a dorm leader when he's stressed, likely pointing out mishaps from students here and there without mincing his words. He also tends to distance himself from others since he knows he's not that good with words when he's stressed out and he also doesn't want to use more energy talking to people

If he has an s/o, he will likely distance himself from them for a little bit. He loves them yes, but he doesn't want them to know he's going through a lot and would rather have them not worry about him. If his s/o gives him something nice though, he'll be super grateful about it

Idia

He's not always stressed out but he does get stressed from time to time. He doesn't like taking exams, but the thing that stresses him out the most is having to be around a lot of people for a long time (think school events)

During Halloween he's probably a bit more on edge than usual. Either way, he gets stressed when he wants to make new friends or show that he's not a scary or weird person but he doesn't know if he's doing well conversing with others. To him, he'd rather talk to people online than go through having to make eye-contact or having to meet someone physically

He's just detached when he's stressed, will drink more energy drinks than usual too. He barely sleeps, but he'll pull more all-nighters than usual. Idia also doesn't want his younger brother knowing he's stressed out so he tries to distance himself for a little while. He doesn't have the energy to talk to people that much so he spends more time just on his bed and trying to relax when he can

If he has an s/o, he might distance himself from them but end up getting clingy. He won't downright pull his s/o to a nap like Leona but he will want them to just spend some time with him playing video games to de-stress. He might not tell them at first, but once he and his s/o get closer, then he'll likely just text them at 3am if they want to come over to play some games

Malleus

This man almost seems too perfect because he's just so good at every class, is quite charismatic, and just seems to have his life together. But that's not always the case!

He gets stressed from time to time if homework piles up but he gets more stressed out when he worries someone he cares about doesn't care about him back the same amount that he does. This usually goes the most with an s/o if he has one

When he is stressed out, he tends to distance himself from people similar to some of the other dorm leaders. However, he isn't really harsh with words, he just spends more time alone. He does, however, get angry more easily. Either lightning flashes outside when he gets pushed a little too hard or he just gives whatever is bothering him a mean glare like >:( for a good two minutes before Lilia's like "yo r u good"

If he has an s/o, he's super clingy without knowing it. He may want them to do more study dates at first. He'll sit across from them in the library but as time goes on he's somehow sitting right next to them, one arm around them, and like really close. Having a chill time with someone he cares about reaffirms that he does have people that care for him and it also helps him de-stress a lot.