#look at even this post: the main part is conversational in tone while the tags are the honest part.

[bbqhooligan]

damn if i cant even voice out my problems anonymous into the void how can i ever be free of them. shamed! embarrassed! vulnerability is the hardest thing in the world

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 4

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.6k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: It's time for your first practice with Kuiil and Din, and you're nervous.

a/n: I feel weird putting this up today but this is the schedule I set and I'm a little afraid that if I put it off I'll just never post anything again. I'm gutted and angry but I do love this fic, so. here's the next chapter. See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Chapter 4

You didn’t try to talk to Din again for a few days -- you were suddenly nervous. Adrian said he kept watching you during morning classes, but you hadn’t caught him in the act yet. For your part, you couldn’t stop yourself from watching him, so you figured he must not have been looking that much, because you would have seen him. Right?

You tried to put your stilted conversation with him in the hallway out of your mind. You didn’t want to let it get in your head before practices even started. 

On Monday the following week, you were walking down the hall from class to rehearsal when Kuiil fell into step with you. You briefly glanced around, wondering where he’d come from, and smiled when he greeted you.

“I am looking forward to working together.” The echo of your words to Din made you smile, ruefully. As always, Kuiil was direct but his tone was warm. “I am glad Greef agreed with me about casting. I know you will do well.”

You blinked. You thought it had been Karga’s idea. “Oh, well, thank you! I didn’t realize… he didn’t tell me it was your choice.”

Kuill nodded serenely. “Yes. You were my first thought to dance it with Din, when I began to picture it in my mind. You will each bring something important to the piece, something the other could learn from. Something you can share.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t exactly sure what he meant. You were used to that, when talking to Kuiil. “I’m very excited to be in it, and grateful that you thought of me. I’m honored, really.” 

He smiled at you as you stopped by the door of your rehearsal for Jee’s piece in the January mixed program. “We will start rehearsal this week, I will update the schedule on the board this afternoon. Before our first meeting, I only ask that you reflect on the idea of existing in the moment, and what that means for you personally and artistically.”

You blinked. This wasn’t your first unexpected request from Kuiil, but it was somehow always a surprise — you could never predict him, and once he was done talking, he was done. There was no use asking for more of an explanation. “I will,” you promised. He nodded and turned to continue down the hallway.

Existing in the moment. Well, you weren’t sure where to start, but you were going to have to try and figure it out before your first rehearsal.

…

On Thursday afternoon, you made your way to the small studio usually reserved for pieces with only two or three dancers. Kuill had scheduled short weekly practices to start focusing on the choreography while everyone was still busy with the upcoming programs for January and February. Adrian had escorted you until you passed his own rehearsal a couple of doors back, and you were glad he had — you’d needed the pep talk.

You can do this. 

The door was open when you arrived and you stopped just short to take a few deep breaths. As you did, you realized Din was already inside and you could just hear his low conversation with Kuiil

“… never done something like this before. I—”

Kuiil interrupted him. “Din. You must try to set your worries aside. I know what you have done and what you have not. And I know that you can do this. You must learn to trust in yourself, not in who they said you were. Instead, in who you are.”

There was a pause, and you tried to will yourself to move, but failed. You wanted to hear his response.

“I—” he sighed. “I’ll try. But you know…”

“I know,” Kuiil agreed. You had no idea what they were talking about. You shook yourself into motion — you didn’t want to eavesdrop too much.

You tried to make some noise as you took the last few steps to the open doorway and into the studio. They both turned to look at you as their conversation suddenly stopped.

“Hello, my dear,” Kuiil said, waving you forward. You said hello and moved to meet them by the sound system, dropping your bag nearby. “Welcome.”

You nodded. “Thank you again, Kuiil—”

He waved his hand and you stopped, smiling. You knew what he was going to say. 

“No, no, none of that. You are the best choice. And you, too, Din.” Kuiil turned to look at your new partner and you noticed that whatever they might have been discussing, Din had put on his expressionless mask yet again. He nodded.

“Now, we will talk before we dance.” Kuiil looked first at you, and then at Din. “Tell me, what does it mean to you, to exist in the moment?”

You felt relieved for a moment that you weren’t the only one given homework, and then nervous at the thought of sharing what you’d thought about. With one glance at Din you knew he wouldn’t be speaking first. Guess it’s on me, you thought, wryly, and squared your shoulders. 

“Well,” you said, tone tentative. “I thought about it, as you asked. I thought of the obvious — not thinking of the future or the past, but only the present. But then in class and in rehearsal I wasn’t sure how that applied because, well, dance is always in the moment, in some ways. It’s an action, it’s happening right now, even though it can reference and build on both the past and future.”

You paused and glanced up at Kuiil. He was nodding. Ok, good. You didn’t look at Din. “And so I thought about it yesterday, in my rehearsal alone for Midsummer and then with everyone for Jee’s piece. And…” you hesitated, and finally risked a glance at Din. You were almost startled to find him staring at you intently, eyes dark and unreadable. You blinked. “And I thought about the difference between being on stage alone and with other people. We dance the choreography, of course, but we also react. To each other and to the music.” You paused.

Kuiil tilted his head. “Go on.”

You took a breath. “Well, being in the moment in dance is more than just following steps you were taught. You have to be aware of your fellow dancers, and you have to move with them but also in response to them, and to yourself. And depending on the ballet, your ability to react or modulate or adjust or improvise could make or break it. But aside from all that, it also puts you in conversation with each other and the music. There’s a difference between dancers moving on stage in unison and dancers moving and working together, even if they’re doing different things. Does that…” you hesitated again, glancing between them. “Does that makes sense?”

Suddenly, Kuiil smiled, and you felt your shoulders relax. “Yes, my dear. An excellent observation. Din?”

You both turned to look at him. For a moment, he said nothing, and you wondered if he really hated talking this much. Then he looked down and murmured, “I agree.” He glanced at you and you shivered. To Kuiil, he said, “The best performances happen when the dancers inhabit the music. Together. When they speak to each other in movement.”

Kuiil nodded. “A sentiment I think your former company might disagree with.”

Din sighed and for a moment you thought you caught the hint of a smile around his mouth. But you blinked and it was gone. 

“True,” he nodded. “And it wouldn’t be our first disagreement.”

Kuiil nodded like he understood, and you resisted the sudden, overwhelming urge to ask what other disagreements he’d had with Concordia.

“Well done,” Kuiil said, looking at both of you. “I want you to continue thinking about this question as we work together. This will not be like a classical pas de deux,” he looked at Din, who nodded, “but instead something new. Some parts may be familiar. This piece will have three movements, each staged separately, and it will be difficult. Technically, yes, but also because of what I will ask of you.” He paused, and you felt your heart start to race, not with nerves, but with excitement. “The choreography will ask you to react to one another, at first as strangers, but later in harmony. It will be dynamic. First you will meet,” he gestured with his hands and moved them past one another. “Then you will circle each other,” he moved his hands around each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes moving farther away. “And finally, you will come together and create something new.” He pressed his hands together and nodded. “Overall, it is about the connection you form and nurture between you, in these short moments together.”

No one spoke for a moment as you took that in. “That sounds beautiful, Kuiil.” Your mind was spinning as you thought of the possibilities for each part of the piece, and what it might look like on stage. 

“Thank you, my dear. I believe it is the two of you who will make it so. Now, for today’s practice, we will listen to the first movement, and then I will send you home to listen to the rest. Focus on what you hear and we will talk about it after.” He turned to the sound system and your gaze drifted once more to find Din, to your right.

You found him already looking at you. Your eyes caught, and as the music started, you swore he might have started to smile.

…

You felt better after your first not-quite-practice with Kuiil. You hadn’t danced at all but you felt more sure of yourself and the piece. 

The only thing you weren’t sure of was Din.

After rehearsal he had once again left quickly, and Kuiil had nodded at you as you followed Din out the door. He had already been halfway down the hallway when you stepped out.

A few hours later, you finished with PT and went looking for Adrian — he had promised you dinner (and a debrief) and you weren’t going to let him get out of it. You found him talking to Owen and pulled him away. 

“Sorry! He promised to feed me and I’m starving.”

Owen laughed, waving you away. You tucked your arm through Adrian’s and dragged him towards the street. 

“So,” he said, elbowing you. You elbowed him back. “How was it?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but weren’t sure where to start.

“Oh come on,” he said, when it took you too long to respond. You looked at him, confused. “I bet you haven’t even learned any choreo yet and you’re already in love with it.”

You rolled your eyes. “We talked about the piece and his vision for it.”

“Oooh, his vision,” Adrian teased you, and you laughed. “You’re so lucky getting to do this with, like, your favorite choreographer. It’s going to be so amazing, too, because I swear the two of you are on the same artistic wavelength. But what about your partner?”

You shrugged and you both stepped out onto the street and you smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. Come on, you have to feed me.”

He laughed and tugged you down the street.

…

The following week you had a shortened rehearsal with Kuiil, due to the start of the January mixed program in the next few days. But it only took a few minutes for your tentative hope and confidence about the whole thing to start to slip.

You turned, holding your position in attitude, and began to draw inwards, collapsing your body as Kuiil had asked. Before you could begin the extension of the next movement, though, the music stopped. 

“Hold on,” Kuiil called. “Take a moment, both of you. Breathe.” 

You stood up straight and closed your eyes. You took a deep breath, trying not to hear his words as sharp criticism. 

It wasn’t going well.

The first movement of the piece was all about meeting someone new — someone with a different style, someone who moved in a different way. Unlike a classical pas de deux, it started with the variations, with solo moments on stage for each of you that played to each of your strengths. Then Kuiil had you meet each other for the first time. It emphasized your differences in ways that showcased your talents, but at the same time those strengths drew you apart. You were supposed to move past each other, to miss each other, but then somehow to catch each other’s attention anyway. By the end of the first, you were just starting to be pulled into each other’s orbit, intrigued but wary, unsure of the nature of the tiny connection you formed.

But you both seemed to be having trouble with the idea of being in the moment separately, yet still somehow together.

You knew you would start alone, dancing in turns, and wouldn’t even share the stage until a few minutes in. But rather than start with that solo choreography, Kuiil had started this first rehearsal with the choreography for the first few moments you were on stage together. You started up stage left with a turn into a full extension that became an arabesque en pointe. From there you ‘fell’ to the floor and rolled before standing and turning into a leap. Then a series of jumps and turns took you across the stage towards Din. 

Din, on the other hand, started in the wings from stage right and burst into action. While you were moving slowly through your extension and arabesque, he came flying onto the stage in a double saut de basque en dedan. From there he twisted and turned until he was supposed to cross paths with you.

You’d only learned a few counts of 8, and yet somehow you could both tell it wasn’t working. Whatever you’d managed so far, it wasn’t what Kuiil had envisioned. It felt disjointed. And the more frustrated you felt, the more you knew it would show in your body. You could feel it, and you could definitely see Din’s frustration almost radiating off of him in waves.

After a moment, Kuiil called you over to where he was standing. “Even though we start this piece with the two of you emphasizing different styles, you are still talking to one another. From the first moment, when you meet, you are interacting, you are curious. You are not dancing separately, no matter how tentative, no matter how new or foreign or hesitant the connection might be. You affect each other from the moment you meet. Your bodies cannot lie on stage.” 

He sighed, and you felt your shoulders tense.

“I want you both to practice until next week, and to think about how to form that connection.” He looked at Din, whose spine was so taut you wondered if it hurt. “But let us stop for now. I know you have your solo variations this weekend, Din, and you, my dear, have Jee’s piece. Go and focus on those things, and next week we will try again.”

You bit your lip and nodded. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he waved you both towards the door. “No, no, it is only the beginning. Do not worry, we will find it.”

You nodded. You needed to get out of this room, to get your mind ready for the next rehearsal. For the performance awaiting you over the weekend. As you stepped into the hall you heard Din begin to speak to Kuiil, but you walked quickly away. Eavesdropping definitely wasn’t going to help you clear your mind, this time.

...

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a/n: uh oh 👀 now what? some ballet terms:

Kuiil mentions that this pas won't be like a classical pas de deux -- as I mentioned last time, classical pas de deux have certain recognizable parts. This one is a bit more inventive.

attitude (derriere) - a position with one leg extended with the knee bent at a 90 degree angle, usually turned out. in this case reader is doing it to the back (derrière) and en pointe (on her toe shoes). here's a video!

extension - reader mentions the 'extension of the next movement' -- she's starting in attitude derrière, collapsing inwards, and then extending her leg back out into arabesque (next bullet), all en pointe.

arabesque en pointe - similar to an attitude but with the leg straight rather than bent. here's a very short video of basically the position reader is about to do.

leap - a leap is a broader term that can be used for a variety of jumps in ballet, but in this case reader is supposed to turn into a saut de chat -- a leap where the front leg does a developpe. (the video shows this well)

double saut de basque en dedans (~0:28) - Din enters the stage doing one of these. The video has a few different impressive jumps but this one is one of my favs, tbh. He's turning in the air twice with one foot touching the knee of the other leg, which is straight. 'En dedans' refers to the direction of the turn (towards the supporting leg, the one that stays straight). Here's Baryshnikov doing one.

counts of 8 - reader refers to learning a few counts of 8. In dance we count in 8s (what anyone musically inclined would think of as two 4/4 bars) and you often learn new choreography in 8s, or 8 beats. it's just the unit of measure everyone uses (which would obviously change if the time signature of the music was different). I've heard a lot of explanations for it (can tie more movements together, more room for choreography, easier to break down the moments between the beats) but honestly I don't know the historical reason. lol

music - Kuiil has chosen a piece with three movements. I actually have one in mind but I'm torn on sharing it because it's not like, 100% right, but mostly. I've choreographed a lot of this thing in my head. 😂

tag list coming in a reblog!

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] London Fog

Rated: M Word Count: 3504 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, sort of failed at being fluff though, human AU, post-vacation blues, Dream of the Endless is a stubborn miserable bastard, Dream of the Endless is a sad wet cat, divorced Dream, hopeful ending don't worry, background Hob & Johanna, Hob and Johanna are besties, Jessamy for MVP, Jessamy and Dream are besties, no actual smut herein, but there IS one spicy recollection midway through

Sequel to Caribbean Sunset. This was supposed to be a quick fluffy scene of parting ways at the end of the cruise, of Hob communicating respect for Dream's boundaries along with the desire to see him again. But then 'what are Dream's reasons for hesitating' suddenly turned into backstory full of angst and depression and steered us into post-vacation blues and this is not the fluff I set out to write but I am happy enough with it all the same.

If anyone is sensitive to topics of marital fidelity and full disclosure, please click the read-more and scroll to the bottom for quick spoilers before proceeding.

Fluffbruary 2024 Prompts Day 13 choice snuggling furry Day 14 phone bubble bath doll Day 15 cord bakery honey

Summary: Dream does his best to ignore Possibilities while he copes with returning from holiday

On AO3

The ship's main atrium is crowded with passengers queuing up for debarkation, loud with the murmur of many voices, but there is only one voice that hold's Dream's attention at the moment.

"I mean. We both live in London; it's not unthinkable we might get together again? Have a drink, grab a bite, get to know each other better?"

Hob's tone is bright, hopeful; the light in his eyes is so very alluring, and Dream is almost tempted.

But circumstances do not permit him to indulge in such fantasies, not now that his cruise has come to an end—the divorce continues to drag on, courtesy of Alex's father, and Dream is uncertain beyond that whether he even wants any relationship ever again; each attempt has gone worse than the last and Hob…Hob is sweet, and kind, and an excellent lay, and Dream. Would not wish to drag him into the festering detritus of his own life.

He has not even left the ship, yet, and already the weight and gloom of reality are pressing heavy at his shoulders.

How he longs to stretch this holiday into infinity, to never have to go back.

He steels himself, forcibly pushes the gathering melancholy away, meets Hob's lovely gaze with a sad smile.

"Hob. I adore you; I hope that much is clear. But my life is. Convoluted, at present, and I am. Messy, at relationships, in general. I do not want to taint—" He blows out a breath, tries again. "This has been wonderful, amazing, so very easy; we fuck and we frolic and we have no cares, no responsibilities, and I would book both of us onto the turnaround cruise immediately if it were feasible, so that we might continue. I am not looking forward to returning to all that waits for me at home."

"All the more reason for a breath of something new, something you could carry over from holiday?" Hob's face is so open, so reasonable and guileless and hopeful.

Dream shakes his head, adamant. "As I said, I am messy. In the ordinary day-to-day, in the mundanity of work and circumstance I. I grow neglectful—cruel, I have been told, many times—and…you will grow weary, of my demands, my eccentricities, of my capricious moods and sullen temper."

"I won't, though," Hob says, smiling, as if it is truly that simple. They have been acquainted for a week, much of which was spent in vigorous activities other than deep conversation, and yet Hob speaks with firm conviction as if they have known one another for months. "But I get it. A fling on holiday is not a real relationship." He tugs on his ear, offers his sweet, warm smile. "All the same, I really like you, and I would love the chance to see if we could be something more. So." He holds out a hand. "Phone, love?"

Dream is responding to the easy endearment before he even realizes, unlocking his phone and handing it to Hob.

"Here's what we'll do," Hob says, fingers flying over the screen. "I'll give you my number. Just that. And if you ever want to call, you can. I don't have your info so I can't violate that boundary. It's entirely up to you." He hands the phone back to Dream and there he is, 'Hob' in his contacts, just a number, with a cartoon lemur from the default gallery as his pic. "If you delete it, if you never call, so be it. I'll always remember you fondly. But if you decide you'd like to see me again, please know I'd love to hear from you. Even if you don't want to date, if you just need to let off some steam no strings attached, I would be happy to be there for you." He smiles, soft and just a little self-depracating. "I'm shooting my shot, as they say, so you know where I stand. But the power's in your hands, dove; the choice is yours. And I'll respect it, whatever you decide."

Dream blinks, clutches his phone tightly, a little bit breathless at how astute Hob is. He's barely mentioned his life in any depth when they did talk; Hob was a holiday tryst in the midst of his interminable ongoing divorce and he hadn't intended on any deeper connection or true getting-to-know-one-another conversations. At most he may have mentioned a 'controlling ex' in passing and he genuinely cannot say for sure; Hob has kept him suitably occupied with other thoughts.

But here is Hob, either extrapolating from that comment or running entirely off intuition, handing him full autonomy over whether or not he wants to pursue any further acquaintance.

"Thank you," he says, eyes pricking with the threat of tears. Perhaps—perhaps—

But no. Best not to even think about 'perhaps'. There is too much to sort out at home still; he does not need to indulge in what-ifs and flights of fancy.

"Can I kiss you? One last time?" Hob asks, and Dream throws his arms about Hob's neck and kisses him first, heedless of the crowded atrium.

It is heaven, the soft slide of Hob's mouth fitting to his, the gentle teasing curl of his tongue, and Dream realizes with a sudden fierce ache that he is going to miss it terribly.

It is more difficult than he would like to end it.

"Goodbye, Hob Gadling," he murmurs, close to Hob's lips, and reluctantly steps back. "Thank you for making this cruise so wonderfully memorable." His hands find both of Hob's, squeeze them.

Hob smiles, soft and bright and the slightest bit sad. He leans in, presses a lingering kiss to the corner of Dream's mouth. "Bye, Dream," he says, gentle and quiet, and then he's sliding from Dream's grasp, turning, walking away.

Dream watches him go, watches as Johanna emerges from the crowd to corral him; he is still watching when Hob glances back over his shoulder with that same beatific melancholy in his smile. Dream gives him a small wave, tries his best to smile in return.

And then Hob is gone, swallowed up in the throng of passengers streaming into the gangway, and Dream deflates.

"This dream is over," he mutters to himself, and makes his way off the ship.

~ Hob and Johanna had boarded a bus for Disney World; there is no chance of encountering them at the airport. The thought gives Dream bitter resolve as he checks his luggage at the kiosk and makes his way through security, finds the first class lounge, settles in to wait for his 6pm departure time.

Two hours in to the transatlantic flight, long limbs comfortably folded into his first class aisle seat and beginning to protest the stillness, he sets his mind to wandering. How wonderful it might have been, to change his plans, to accompany Hob to 'the happiest place on earth'. Hob has been delightful company in and out of the bedroom and Johanna was agreeable enough; he had immensely enjoyed the time they spent together on St. Thomas. He has never been to any Disney park, on any continent, and while it has never seemed like something he would enjoy he now finds himself imagining such a visit in Hob's company, laughing at Hob's childlike delight as they queue for rides and attractions, shopping for souvenirs, sampling street foods and specialty offerings of every kind.

But no. It would be rude to invite himself on the next leg of Hob's holiday with Hob's friend; Dream had already monopolized Hob's time on the cruise and while Johanna had been very adaptable in that regard, Dream would not wish to impose further.

Besides which. There are meetings with solicitors to be attended, in hopes of finally moving the onerous divorce proceedings to a close; his company and accounts need his attention and it would be unfair of him to expect Jessamy to shoulder that load for longer simply because he is weary of his responsibilities and far too attached to his holiday fling.

With a sigh, he pushes all thoughts aside and closes his eyes, attempting sleep.

~ Jessamy meets him at Heathrow after he's cleared customs in the morning; he is tired, and grateful for her brisk efficiency in getting him to the waiting car and home to his sleek modern flat. Today is for dealing with jet lag; tomorrow he will return to the office and his responsibilities full time. All the same, there are things he can go over with Jessamy in the name of catching up and being prepared, once he's had a nap. Airline travel is not conducive to meaningful sleep.

"Good to have you home, Dream," Jessamy says, as she rolls the suitcase she brought in over to where he's dropped the rest of his luggage.

"Thank you, Jessamy." He hopes she understands that he means for everything, not just that single sentiment; she makes his life run smoothly in a way he can hardly imagine being without.

"Of course." She flashes a cheeky grin. "You must tell me about all the exciting and unmentionable shenanigans you got up to, after you've slept. I'll be back this afternoon so we can touch base properly."

Dream collapses in his bed after she's left, the sheets crisp and clean and the pillowcase cool against his face, and dreams of Hob's hands on his skin.

~ He settles back into his mundane routines easily, as if he's never left, the same way it always happens when he returns from holiday. He meets with investors, he addresses the shareholders, he facilitates talks between Finance and Marketing to adjust the budget for next fiscal year and allocate additional funding for the long-term studies requested by the latter. He meets with his solicitors, who assure him that each of the latest demands and stipulations brought by the Burgess camp have been refused and countered and the directive given once more to sign the final document that Dream had thought far too generous six months ago. They are optimistic that there will be no further objections.

Dream will not allow himself that hope until it actually comes to pass.

He thinks of Hob frequently.

It is mid-March, a full month since returning, when he finds himself gazing yet again at the innocuous entry in his contacts, the cartoon lemur staring back at him brightly.

He ought to delete it. He ought to cut the thread that holds him to the glimmer of impossibility and impracticality, of unrealistic expectations. It has been a month; surely Hob has realized by now that he will not call and has put the entire notion behind him. Dream is foolish, to keep the number in his phone, to entertain the occasional daydream of actually calling. He has not; he will not. There is no point in letting the contact remain.

He recalls, with aching clarity, their last night aboard ship when they had finally put the bed to carnal use, having exhausted all other options within the suite and private deck. Hob had put him facedown on his knees and lovingly opened him up on tongue and fingers until he spilled, helpless, then put him on his back and fucked him tenderly to another climax before finishing himself. Dream remembers the way Hob kissed him throughout, slow and thorough; he remembers with a shiver of longing Hob's fingers carding through his hair, cradling his thighs, stroking down his neck, his shoulders. He recalls Hob's voice, soft and fervent, murmuring endearments and appreciation against his mouth, his skin; he remembers how he fought to keep from crying, overwhelmed by the adoration that Hob poured into him.

He had felt…cherished. It was only a holiday indulgence, a fantasy of possibilities, but oh, how he had wanted. It was delightful to curl in sleep with Hob, to be held, to imagine that this kind and beautiful near-stranger truly cared for him beyond the pleasure they found in one another.

It was so easy to pretend that he was loved.

He closes his contacts without deleting Hob's entry.

~ "So this gentleman you met on your cruise," Jessamy starts one day in April, over breakfast. She has brought him a decadent blueberry danish from the bakery near her flat and is picking delicately at her own lemon poppyseed muffin. "He left you his number, you said?"

"Yes." Dream takes an enormous bite of the pastry, delighting in the sweet tang of the blueberry filling on his tongue, the sugary melt of the glaze and the flake of the crust. He does not like where this conversation seems to be headed, but it is Jessamy, and her offering is delicious, so he will endure it.

"Are you ever going to call him?" She plucks another small chunk of her muffin between two elegant glittery-black nails and pops it into her mouth, watching him with sharp, knowing eyes.

Dream chews slowly, allowing himself time to ponder the question until his mouth is empty. "I do not know," he says at last, honestly. "I should not; there is little point. Yet I cannot quite let go of the fantasy."

"There's little harm in a spot of fantasy, though, is there," she returns. "It's human nature to spin ourselves what-ifs and wouldn't-it-be-nices."

"Perhaps," Dream allows, and returns to his Danish.

It has been two months now since the cruise; the longer he goes without calling Hob, the more foolish he feels when he imagines how it might play out if he did. It is fanciful nonsense, all of it; Hob has certainly put Dream far from his mind by now.

Hob's number remains in his phone, the bright-eyed lemur inciting a small pang of fondness and regret any time he scrolls past it.

~ It is the last week in May that the divorce is at long last finalized, legitimized, and filed as complete.

Dream feels a celebration would be appropriate. He considers dressing down and dolling up, visiting the clubs that he had taken to frequenting after he and Alex officially separated more than two years ago. Sex would be a lovely way to celebrate, especially when it's been months since the last time he'd gotten laid—

The notion passes silently on before it can truly take hold. Sex would be nice, yes, but now he is thinking of that last time, and all he wants is Hob.

Jessamy brings champagne to his office as evening sets in. "I heard the good news," she says, waggling the pair of stemmed glasses in her hand. "Congratulations on finally being legally and officially rid of the twat."

"Thank you." Dream rises and takes the glassware; Jessamy pops the cork and pours for them both, then lifts her glass. "To freedom?"

Dream matches her. "To correcting mistakes which ought never have been made," he amends, and they drink.

~ Two glasses later, the conversation has turned to Dream's Future Prospects, a topic far more easily navigated when mellowed by the champagne in his bloodstream.

"I am better off alone, Jessamy."

Jessamy tilts her head at him, frowning.

"No, I don't think you are," she offers at last.

"Nonsense." Dream feels very strongly that his point is valid. "Every relationship I have had has been. Catastrophic."

"Well, yes. You did make magnificently bad choices in your last two marriages."

"And the others?"

"You and Nada were both far too young when you eloped." She shakes her head slightly. "And everyone in between were decent enough people, just…not right for you, ultimately. There were plenty of reasons for things not working out, but that doesn't mean you stop trying."

"The fact that I have seven failed marriages behind me when I am barely forty years old leads me to think otherwise." Dream tips another small measure of champagne into his glass. "I would be wise to seek out my casual dalliances when I wish for them and swear off the idea of romance. I would be far happier."

Jessamy is giving him that look, the one that says he's full of shit but she'll find a kinder way to point it out. "Would you, though?"

"Of course. You are happy, are you not?"

"Yes, but I'm aromantic. You very much are not, Dream. You thrive on the thrill of falling in love, of wooing and being wooed and grand gestures of devotion."

He swirls his glass, once, pouting. She is correct, of course; she knows him better than anyone, has been his friend for most of his life and his assistant for most of his career. He is very much in love with being in love, which makes the parade of failed marriages in his wake all the more painful.

"You are right, of course," he reiterates aloud, melancholy stealing over him. "The idea of finding someone for one night does not even hold the appeal it did before I went on holiday. I just keep thinking of Hob."

Jessamy cocks her head at him again, raises an eyebrow, gaze bright and astute. "The fantasy in your phone whom you've never called?"

"Yes."

"That good, was he?"

"He was not—he was, rather, but it was not just that." He can feel the emotion swelling in his chest and makes no effort to hide it; Jessamy will not judge him ill for it. "Hob is kind, and sweet, and so full of life; he is a brilliant soul, warm and chivalrous and—and—" He has run out of words.

"And hot?" Jessamy's grin is sly.

"And hot," Dream admits, mournfully, "and such a good kisser, and Jessamy, I miss him. He went to Disney World, after the cruise." He looks at her, everything laid bare in his eyes, tongue comfortably loose with champagne. "I wanted very much to go with him."

"Wow."

"Yes." Dream looks away, breathing past the ache in his chest; he cannot deny that the space Hob has occupied in his thoughts since February is far more than warranted by a simple holiday tryst.

Jessamy sighs gently. "Then. Perhaps—and hear me out here—perhaps you should call him."

Dream shakes his head, miserable. "I will ruin him, I will ruin whatever feeling lies between us. As I did with Calliope, and Will, and Nuala—"

"Every relationship is different, Dream. Every set of variables, every chance—maybe it won't work, but maybe it will. You don't know without trying."

"…Perhaps."

Jessamy sets her glass aside and rises to leave. She lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes lightly in passing. "Life is too short, Dream. Reach for happiness, every now and again. You deserve it as much as anyone."

~ Dream stares at the little cartoon lemur on his phone screen long after Jessamy has left, stares at Hob's name beneath it.

Is he truly thinking of calling, after all this time?

It is pointless, hopeless; surely Hob has long since moved on. Besides which, it is late. He does not even know what Hob does for a living, whether he is likely to still be awake at 9pm on a Tuesday but even so, it does not matter. It is far too late in the evening for unsolicited non-emergency phone calls, particularly when he is morbidly tipsy from finishing off the bottle of champagne; he swipes out of his contacts, heart thudding in his chest as though he's just narrowly missed out on calamity.

Or opportunity.

~ He stares at the lemur again the next day, and the next, and the next, debating with himself, thumb hovering over the number while his pulse pounds sickly with nerves. He wants to call, more than he might have wanted anything in recent memory; he is terrified to try, to take the risk, to burn the gauze of fantasy to the ground in hopes that a beautiful reality will rise from the ashes.

The lemur's cartoon eyes stare brightly back, unhelpful.

~ At last, on the seventh of June, half past noon on a bright sunny day, Dream can dither no more over insecurities and cautionary woes.

He wants, and he is tired of pretending that he does not.

He steels himself, closes his eyes and lets his thumb touch down.

Trembling, breath held, he brings the phone to his ear.

There is ringing on the other end, three times, a fourth, and then the sound of the line connecting.

A voice, a voice wonderfully familiar despite how long it has been since last he heard it, speaks up. "Hello, Robert Gadling here…"

Dream opens his eyes and exhales, heart in his throat. "Hob?"

There is a sudden stillness over the line. "…Dream?" Dream can hear the bright smile breaking over Hob's face. "Is that you?!"

The tension bleeds out of him in a rush and he is smiling as well, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he cradles the phone in both hands, curling toward the warm glow of possibility it offers.

Perhaps, perhaps this time, if he only believes.

"Hello, Hob."

= Started: 2/13/24 Drafted: 2/15/24 Posted: 2/15/24

The Extra Warning note: We find out here that Dream is still in the middle of a years-long messy divorce from Alex Burgess while on the cruise; he has technically committed adultery with Hob. Hob does not know and will not find out at this juncture. If this makes you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you need to give this a pass.

[writtenobsession]

Minthara’s Jaluk

Modern AU Minthara x Male Drow Tav/Reader

THIS IS 18+ FANFIC! You’ve been warned.

Summary: You were given a set of rules to follow while at a work event for Minthara’s work. The promise of a reward at the end of the night motivates you be on your best behavior.

Tags: Dom Minthara, Sub Male Drow, Under the table clothed handjob in a public area, oral, hair pulling, and using a tie as a leash.

A/N: This is smut for smuts sake. I remember seeing a dirty bg3 confession about someone wanting their male drow to be dominated by Minthara. It lived in my brain rent free for a while. Written and posted on phone. This is my first time ever writing smut. May or may not do a part 2. Let me know if you think I should? (I couldn’t think of a title to save my life… I’m trying)

Drow terms used: Jaluk- a derogatory term for a male drow, Harl'il'cik- kneel, Parzdiamo- male playmate who is not the house patron, Ilharess- matron.

Word Count: 10,950

Your rules for the evening:

1.) Do not embarrass me.

2.)When asked about our relationship, keep it simple and to the point. Do not give out too much information.

3.) I will allow you to call me “My dear” or “My Love”, anything else will displease me.

You will receive your reward when we arrive home.- Minthara

Events like these were always stressful. Trying to remember peoples faces, etiquette, the rules, and keeping her happy. Your outfit for the evening already picked out to complement hers, the chauffeur waiting for you at the bottom for the your shared luxury apartment, and traveled downtown to the business district for the hotel hosting her work event. Stepping out of the sleek car, you straighten your tux and check your watch.

“Right on time,” you thought before taking a deep breath and plastered a well practiced smile in your face, “Let the show begin.”

With false confidence, you walk into the lobby and instantly recognize a few familiar faces for Minthara’s office. Smalltalk was always torturous for you when it came to these events. The questions were almost always the same, such as, “How are you?” or, “How’s work?” These people had no interest in you when you used to work in the same building, but once Minthara brought you to the last event, their sudden friendly demeanor grated on you. Once a lull in the conversation, you excused yourself to attempt to find your her. Shuffling through the crowd, you spot her in front of a few higher ups in the company in front of entrance to the rented hall for the evening. She looked gorgeous. You could feel your heart race just gazing upon her. Her hair done up perfectly, the earrings you picked out that matched your cuff links for your anniversary, and her black dress that hugged every curve on her well toned body. Her leg occasionally peaking out from a side slit as she adjusted her stance. You stood there admiring her from afar for just a moment before you caught her eye. A warm smile formed on her lips.

“Will you excuse me, gentlemen,” She said before sauntering over. Once she reached you, her smile harden. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, my Love,” you look at her lovingly, “I couldn’t help, but admire you for a moment.” She hummed at the comment, approving of your answer. “It’s almost time for the main events to begin, Darling.” You hold out your arm to escort her into the main room. She leans into you with a wicked smile for a moment and whispers, “It seems I’ve trained you well.” The hairs on the back of your neck stand. You’re already having a tough time keeping your composure. She links her arm with yours then proceeds to lead the way. Of course more small talk ensued, but it becomes manageable when your fiery lover takes charge. You would be lying to yourself that if you said this side of her wasn’t a turn on. You were pulled out of your mind when Minthara squeezed your arm lightly.

“Darling, they’re announcing that it’s about the time to take our seats.” She looked you in the eyes as if asking, “What in the hells are you doing.”

“Of course, my dear.” It took you a moment to remember where you were before walking directly towards your table near a front corner of the stage. Just enough out of the lights not to irritate Minthara’s sensitive eyes. You pull her chair out for her and rest your hand on her shoulder. She places her hand on yours and looks up at you.

You can practically hear her say, “Good jaluk,” with her eyes.

You could see some women elbow their husbands at your display of manners and love.

“Good,” you thought. You knew Minthara took joy at watching men quickly trying reenact your actions. You take your seat next to her and greet the newcomers to the table. The chatter of everyone finding their seats, you felt Minthara lean over and whisper into your ear, “You look wonderful, Jaluk.” You felt her finger ghost over your thigh for a moment. You clear your throat as you choke a down the urge to let out a soft moan. Her chuckle let you know this was the reaction she wanted. “Maybe I’ll give you a taste of tonight’s events.” You slowly turned your head towards her you almost give her a pleading look before you heard footsteps approach the podium on stage. You turn back towards the stage with your mind racing with thoughts of what she had planned for you. All attention was on the Elven man on stage as he began his speech.

“Good evening everyone, I would like to thank…” You brain cut him off when you left Minthara’s left hand squeeze your thigh.

“Gods is she really going to..?” You left her hand creep ever closer toward your length. You glance back at her, her eyes told you everything you needed to know. “Be quiet and eyes forward.” She began to palm your growing length, giving you a delicious amount for friction. You turned back and made yourself focus on anything because you knew the moment you allowed yourself to lose focus, your moans will escape from your lips and alerting everyone to what was going on under the table. Her hand movements begin to become more bold. It took you everything not to show how much you’re enjoying this. You felt her fingers begin to fiddle with the zipper on your trousers, the sensation made you flinch.

“Shit,” You mentally scold yourself. “She’s not going to be pleased by that.” You felt her give your thigh a light squeeze. That was your signal for your last chance to behave. She was being very lenient with you tonight. She continued gently rubbing her hand over length. You were aching under her touch. You could feel her enjoying this control over you. Right when you could feel yourself getting to the point of no return, her hand pulled away. It took all of your willpower not to whine in disappointment or sigh with relief that you didn’t have to break out an exit plan. You hear Minthara get called on stage to give a speech. Feel her brush your shoulder and watch the sway of hips strut past you and up to the stage. You’re completely enamored by her. The rest of the night went without anymore hiccups, but you were too distracted by what the rest of the night holds.

You arrived in the lobby of your apartment and waited for the elevator in silence. You swear Minthara could hear your heart about to burst out of your chest. Your cheeks begin to flush by the time the metal doors opened before you. The moment you walked through, you feel her hand rest on the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It was hungry, like she hadn’t been touched in months. You feel her other hand grab your tie and to hold you in place. You look deep into her ruby eyes, full of want and lust.

“Jaluk,” You shiver at the word, “You performance was almost perfect. Almost.” She emphasized, her eyes slightly narrowed. The elevator dinged and you felt her drag you out by your tie as if it was a leash. She leads you to your front door before letting you go and stands there without a word. You at the hint and enter in the code into the keypad. You were quick to open the door, allowing her to walk through.

“Jaluk, come.” Releasing your tie, she walks straight toward the couch and takes a seat. She crosses her legs and waits for you to stand before her. Her eyes fixated on you. You wait for her commands. “Harl’il’cik.”

Without a second thought, you kneel before her, like a parzdiamo at his ilharess. She hums approvingly. You stay silent, you anticipated her next words. You wait for those words where everything starts.

“Are you ready to give yourself to me?”

You gulp and slowly nod. “Yes.”

“Good,” she says are she uncrosses her leg and slightly spreads them. You feel yourself begin to harden once more. She’s your queen, your goddess yet you’ve never said it out loud. You never needed to because she knew.

You reached for the slit of her long gown. As you slowly plant soft feather like kisses on her left leg. Once you’ve reached past her knees, you carefully spread her legs a bit farther to allow yourself to sit between them more comfortable. You could feel her eyes watching your every move. Your hands travel up her thighs to remove the delicate fabric underneath, yet your fingers only find smooth flesh. Your eyes widen and look up at her. You could feel yourself becoming more aroused and your cheeks becoming flushed. She looks at you with a satisfied smirk. She chuckles and rests her hand on your head. “What’s wrong, jaluk?”

“N-nothing, my-“ you were interrupted when you felt your hair roughly grabbed. You release a soft moan.

“Then show me.” Her voice firm yet a hint of lust hangs in the background. You’re more than willing to show her that nothing is the matter. You raise the rest of the dress up her legs until you could see for your own eyes the beauty hiding there. You feel her guiding your head towards her crotch. You’re more than happy to oblige her command. Your hands travel up her outer thighs, your face inching closer, and your thoughts only filled with her.

You gently grab her hips and pull her closer to edge of the couch. Your eyes flick to meet her eyes for a moment before taking a long broad lick of her folds. You continue licks her rhythmically before using your tongue gently flick her clit. Her soft sighs encouraging you to continue. You begin to pay attention to give her inner walls by probing with your tongue. Your actions were performed with great precision to ensure her pleasure. When you feel she was wet enough, you slowly inserted a finger. Her moans and heavy breathing egged you on to continue your goal to provide her pleasure. Inserting another finger, you begin to stroke her silken walls. Hitting every spot that makes her tighten around you.

Her moans and sighs were like a song you’ve played for years. The moment you feel her pull your face closer to her, you could tell she’s close to coming undone. You feel her quiver around your finger, a shiver runs through your body.

“Use your tongue,” she said almost breathlessly. Quick to follow your queen’s order, you swiftly replace your fingers with your tongue and devoured her like this was your first meal in years. Her hand painfully tight in your hair, but ignored it for her pleasure. Her hips grinding against your face, you pull her closer. Focusing all your attention on her little sounds and movements. Soon you feel her coming undone on your tongue. Her taste, smell, and cries are intoxicating. You were lost in thought, allowing her to ride out her orgasm before you were suddenly pulled away from her core. She lightly pulls your head back to examine her handy work. Her face was flushed and her chest heaving. The sight of her almost made you spill over.

“What a mess,” her husky and her hooded eyes look down on you. Her hand strokes your cheek then tilts your chin toward her. She pulls you into a kiss, tasting herself off your lips. “I believe it time for you to properly receive your reward.” A wicked smile crossed her lips. Your night was far from over.

[defountaine]

DEFOUNTAINE.

independent + private roleplay blog for FURINA DE FONTAINE, of mhy's GENSHIN IMPACT as judged by SINCLAIR ( 21 ). crossover + oc friendly. low activity due to college ( junior yr ) + old laptop.

INTEREST CHECKER. / GOOGLE DOC.

rules under cut.

NOTES. ( THIS MAY BE UPDATED AS TIME GOES ON. )

not spoiler or leak free

i tag triggers as “ trigger // “ 

for the main verse ( gi ), i'm almost entirely caught up on the main story.

hc heavy.

i use she/he/they for furina. she looks like both a woman and a twink and it's giving me gender envy, okay. genderfluid furina is so real to me.

generally novella because i love writing a lot!!

scarce activity bc my laptop is fucked up ( most of the keys are stiff lol ) + full time college student. i am literally doing a research proposal this semester.

aforementioned keyboard thing may lead to typos

i tag a lot of my ooc posts ( since a majority of the time they’re useless ) as “ irrelevant // ” as to not clog up peoples dash 

sometimes tumblr doesn’t send my asks so if you’ve liked for an inbox call and you don’t receive it, thats why 

mutuals can ask for discord<3 i encourage it actually since im active there more often but im very anxious and tend not to initiate conversation unless i feel like we’re very close 

if i ever bother you lmk<3 i’ve been told i can get a little spammy at times and i’ll admit i do get easily excited so if i need to tone it down just let me know!

if i’m following you i’ve read your rules !! i’ll assume you’ve done the same if you decide to follow back!

i only have access to the beta editor, sadly. i can try and pull some bullshit but i don't know if it'll work. my apologies.

NSFW.

those who are of age and have characters of age can smut with me. that said, furina is probably not gonna be very easy to fuck. trauma and all that. unless we have pre-established stuff. that's always fun. that said, don't follow just to fuck him, please. gore is also welcomed.

SHIPPING.

i love shipping, so lets do it! platonic, romantic, rivals, familial etc.. love ‘em all! planned or entirely natural, either is fine! if you wanna ship with me just ask! i have no preferences, not really, and i can say the same about furina. both she and i are down to clown with just about anyone. it doesn't even have to be healthy! ( to the tune of tmnt ) codependent toxic yuri/yaoi !

PLEASE DON’T RUSH ME.

full time college student with very limited time to do rp nowadays. i really enjoy writing and all but being rushed to reply makes me lose motivation. however, if i do miss a starter/don’t reply to a thread for a while you can tell me about that!

SELECTIVE + MUTUALS ONLY.

despite me saying this, all in all i probably follow almost everyone back as long as they have a rules + abt page i can find! i don’t follow personals but if you’re a hub or your rp blog is a sideblog, lmk so i can follow you there!  if you have a rules + abt page and i don’t follow back LET ME KNOW. sometimes tumblr doesn’t give me notifications and i don’t pay attention to follower count for the most part. i’m really not picky and im not trying to be mean or ignore you ! 

HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

any sort of hate will not be tolerated. if i see you picking on anyone or you pick on me , i will block you. that’s not the way i roll.

NO GODMODDING OR ANYTHING OF THE LIKE.

this is pretty standard , but please don’t control my muse or anything of the sort. 

I PRACTICE REBLOG KARMA. KINDA.

��i am not a meme archive blog , so if you do rt them please consider sending them!!

I’M FINE WITH ASKS BEING TURNED INTO THREADS!!

just please turn them into separate text posts, please!!

BE FUCKING NORMAL.

y'know. no racism, homophobia, transphobia or pedophilia, incest, and all that gross stuff. instant block. literally just be normal.

[thebrothersseed]

Rules

(blog specific)

YES we do OcxCanon ships here, but ONLY with chemistry. Sorry, I can't make up a ship just because it's canon to you.

This is an ask/rp blog, so please format asks "(question)"//(character its for) or similar variation and rp starters as "(starter)" from (yours) to (mine).

I'm more likely to put effort into mutuals responses

SEED-KID FRIENDLY. come, come. talk to your dad/uncles.

SEED-SIBLINGS...LETS TALK FIRST. Nothing against them! I just want to know what your assumed dynamic between the siblings would be, and how I would fit into that.

DUPLICATES - again, lets talk! What are you looking for? Twins? A tear in reality? Future version returning to warn past version? I just don't like reality-breaking, sorry. Need a plot.

In terms of canon: you might've noticed, one of the muses on my main is Joseph's daughter. this is an au unless otherwise specified. I try to stick to canon here, but Eden is my entire life so I might bring her up once or twice.

(overall//taken from my main)

I block freely and don’t feel ashamed about it. If you’re uncomfortable with my content or me, please use that beautiful button.

Due to the nature of my blog, we’re MDNI here. PLEASE do not interact with my posts if you’re under 18, it makes me insanely uncomfortable.

I rarely trigger tag. If you see my posts often and need something tagged, LET ME KNOW! I have few triggers myself but I used to have a lot more, I understand how upsetting it can be.

Don’t even think about following me if you don’t understand why someone would explore these topics in fiction. Mun =/= Muse. Obviously I don’t condone their actions or beliefs.

Having said all that in a very confident tone, I can now say that I am not a confident person! I push through a lot of nerves to start interactions, because I know a lot of people have issues with that. but I am BEGGING you to PLEASE tell me if I did something wrong or if I upset you. I’m always malleable to changing things up, especially if it upset someone! I’m still new to this, too, so I might use a term wrong or something. Let me knoowww pleeasseee

I ask that you not reblog roleplay threads you’re not part of. Likes and comments are welcomed and appreciated on all posts (even if I don’t respond)

Follows come from b3ast0fburd3n

My muses can be rude sometimes! You are more than welcome to give them the same energy. I just ask that we, as the Muns, try to get along! Just because our characters are at each others throats doesn’t mean that we can’t joke about them making out.

Shipping is WELCOMED. (see above)

pleasepleaseplease don’t control my characters. ‘godmodding’ has been the bane of my existence since middle school. I do what I can to make sure our interactions (especially violent ones) are even while still being in character. I have noticed, though, that some of my characters are awfully inclined to back down if conversation swings towards violence. I’m not afraid to rp fights, but I ask that we plot how it will end beforehand, so I can know what direction to head for.

Crossovers: Mostly good with them! Other characters in far cry is great. Depending on the fandom I might be willing to build an AU to interact. idk, hasn’t come up yet! I will say, though, that my anime phase ended before high school. I’ve got nothing against it, I just don’t like it myself anymore. I probably won’t interact with anime characters, oc or canon.

I match length (and often, more) but I don’t expect others to. Life is busy, you can’t always write out a long reply. As long as your response as some kind of action or sentence to be responded to, don’t worry about it!

Questions, quick asks, one-liners and such are always open!

[salemoleander]

Part of the joy of fandom is taking the same raw material a creator has and creating something new and different, finding new meaning and stories that were never intended! However.

If, as in the scitties example, what is intended one way by a CC (lightly suggestive, humorous, dramatic, serious, etc) is responded to very differently (as overtly sexual, of life-changing personal importance, extremely serious, adding gore that would make Hannibal Lector blush, etc) that gets SUPER uncomfortable!! Because it diverges wildly from both the information/plot/joke the creator was trying to convey, and the emotional tone they thought they were setting. (And, worse, makes them grapple with that conflict Live On Air In Front Of Thousands Of People.)

Lines of questioning I wish I could make madatory before @ing a cc or sending a 200 word TTS:

How would the creator summarize this event/ joke/ plot? Is it a joke, or actually supposed to have happened in-universe? Am I taking something as fact when it was intended as a joke, or vice versa?

Do the canonical events include or allude to sex, violence, or other 'serious' categories? Does my work/ interpretation/ comment move into a topic area the creator didn't originally include, or to a much larger degree. (Note that 'mature' topics are NOT interchangeable; if an erotica author were tagged on art of her main characters braining each other with lawn jarts, she's gonna rightfully be a bit disturbed! (Sidenote. Go look up lawn jarts. Marvel that humans have lasted this long.))

What tone did the creator set? Were they upbeat, laughing, joking? Were they taking it seriously? If someone dies 50x in Minecraft and is giggling the whole time, they will be confused and/or off-put by angsty art of them coughing up blood. If someone is trying to tell a dramatic emotional story and you keep making jokes about their fear of death, you are being an asshole.

Is your query the spiritual equivalent of this post:

Do not make random CCs opine on serious real-world issues*!!! Or about your deeply held beliefs/ mental health issues/ sexuality/ gender, etc. Even if they are a perfectly nice person with chill views, being put on the spot is anxiety-inducing and will not result in their best answer.

If they've never considered the topic before, their fumbling questions are NOT best answered by the collective wisdom of a Twitch chat while being recorded & trying to stay entertaining.

*Outside their normal conversational wheelhouse. Someone asking a bit of a deeper question to Scar about accessibility of public spaces is Much Different than asking iJevin for his thoughts on food deserts. (I picked this example bc it seems so implausible; if this has somehow actually happened I will send whoever has proof a pizza.)

One of the things that I think sometimes gets lost when we talk about what's appropriate in fandom spaces is the notion that things can be appropriate in one space, but not for another. And that doesn't mean that the thing that's inappropriate in that setting is wrong, it just means that it's rude in that space. I think people want a single set of rules that's appropriate everywhere, but the thing is, you have to be able to assess the situation, and adjust your behaviour accordingly.

So an example. I have a fairly popular text post that was me asking about c!phil and religion in all innocence, and someone said "the only thing I have to say about c!phil is that he worships on his knees, thank you and goodnight". And I reblogged it like "I can't believe I forgot about how this fandom does phil analysis", cause it was at the height of the dilfza memes.

Anyways that's obviously a phil-is-happily-married/oral sex joke, in an oblique innuendo way, and on this site, where Phil is not here, and his friends are not here, with it being clear I was talking about the block man character, and we make jokes about sex and profanity (a very popular url scheme for a long time was "[name]shugecock" (or smalldick, depending on the joke)— that's a fine joke to make. I'm an adult, I can make sex jokes about fictional characters on the sex joke fictional character social media site.

If I was to make that joke in Philza's twitch chat, a) in his face, b) with his wife modding, c) in an enviroment where people aren't prepped for sex jokes, d) with it being not clear if I was talking about the cubito or about the real guy, that would be wildly inappopriate. I would be banned in every chat Philza mods in and I would deserve it.

That doesn't mean that it's inappropriate to make the joke in the first place though, just because I wouldn't do it at a Phil meet and greet. It means you gotta learn to read the room. (And like, sometimes it's hard to learn to read the room, but you can do it by pure brute-force memorization. I did.)

This is the same theory that underlies the fact that you can call your friends a bitch in a friendly way, because you are friends and you know each other's boundaries, but if you call your boss a bitch, you will be fired. There are rules about workplace appropriateness, and there are rules about what's appropriate in front of kids (I teach teens, I do not swear in front of them, I swear a LOT in front of my roommate), and there are rules about what's appropriate in different fandom spaces. Participating in an exchange about pregnancy and babies with your favourite blorbo of the moment? Great. Showing the actor gift art you got of him pregnant? No. Bad. Go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

The thing that concerns me is that I think there are slight signs that as we get more comfortable with sexy jokes and offcolour remarks as a MCYT fandom (QSMP is the big banner example but it happens with other smps), we're taking what's appropriate in one space (tumblr, home of the brain worms, where I have seen the blog "philzaswetpussy" on my dash), and we're bringing it into places that it's not appropriate (sure, slimeariana is clearly canon, but maybe don't put the actual dicks-out fan art in the art tag on twitter that slime checks). Cause we can obviously tell that the rules twitter is going with are silly for here, so it's full speed ahead for roier/spreen etc, but the trick here is that it's full speed ahead HERE, or in fandom servers, and not necessarily in the streamer's faces.

We have a bunch of situations where creators have said that it's not their place to weigh in on shipping or nsfw etc, and people have taken that as a go ahead and that's fine, but thats still something where I'd like, caution people that just because they said "not gonna look at it not my deal", that doesn't mean that like, you should make it difficult for them to avoid looking at it. Talking about scitties is an honourable tradition, but telling scar that he makes you question your sexuality in his TTS— I made a horrified noise in real life and the cats came to look at me.

And I'm talking about the shipping, but this is also a thing with like— sometimes I see a streamer and I go "my friend you just vividly described neurodivergent symptoms" but it is ABSOLUTELY not my place to say that in their chat. It might not even be appropriate to make comments about it on my blog, with the amount of followers I have. I have to keep the "streamer just described the ADHD experience again :pensive:" comments for the group chat. And we all nod and go "yeah sounds like streamer", and we do not put it in his face, cause that's inappropriate.

We get to have fun with the fictional characters, including off-colour fun, but we still have to remember that there are real people who don't know us who are steering those fictional characters around, and it can be profoundly weird to see some of the (stuff that is appropriate in fandom spaces!) just up in your face in the regular fan art tag.

Just think about the space you're in, and who you're in front of, and if a CC notice is actually likely, and if a CC notice would be Very Bad actually with what you're doing, and keep the "world's sluttiest absent father" bracket (with associated slutty fan art) for here, not with the streamer tagged on twitter.

[chelleztjs18]

This One Is Mine Pt. 2 (N.R)

Billionaire Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a billionaire and a successful business woman, Natasha has everything and lives her lavish life with her best friends. What will happen if Natasha wants you but Wanda gets in between?

Warning: Dark fic 18+, bunch of sexual tensions, swearing words, drug use, and alcohol consumptions. (Let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: Hello! I'm back again and I'm posting this a day early again because of the busy weekend. I'm glad the first part of this week got a lot of positive reactions to it and I thank you all so much. I'm glad you enjoyed this series. If I miss anybody to be tagged on the list, I'm sorry and you can remind me again. I appreciate it. Happy reading!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

As luck would have it, you see where Nat is sitting. Eye contact finally locked between you and her. 

You can feel your face is blushing when you know that she was already looking at you once your eyes found her. You hope that she doesn’t notice how much you blush even though you know the club isn’t bright enough for her to notice. Your befuddled self wants her attention and you don’t even know why you feel that way. To keep her attention, you start to dance in a seductive way. You sway your hips left and right. You dance with your friends, smiling and sometimes you glance at her every once in a while.

Wanda turns her head to Nat as quick as a deer in a headlight after she hears Nat's stern “No” at her. Her jaw clenched. Then she leans to her so close to her neck and ear as she lays her left hand on to the redhead's inner left thigh, squeezes it gently then with a begging tone and a pouty face she says, “But Natty, I like her. I mean, look at her.” Wanda pauses and glances at you. “Fuck.. I want to know how soft her skin is and how good her scent is. Can I at least touch her a little bit? Please.” A little bratty smirk forms on lustful Wanda's face as she give a quick lick on Natasha's neck.

Wanda and Nat had shared quite often intimate moments, fooling around and satisfied each other sexual desire. Nat is always dominant over her but Wanda knows how to get what she wants either in bed or in general. 

Nat's thigh softly flinches from her touch. She sighs and rolls her eyes playfully before she responds to Wanda's whinny request. She holds Wanda's face by her jaws to make Wanda look at her eyes once again. "Fine. You can BUT only when I say so, and when I say stop, you know what to do." Said Natasha dominantly.

Wanda smiles victoriously. "You look so hot when you have control over me like that." She said it softly as she teased Nat with a "biting" gesture. “You are still such a brat.” Nat teases with a comment.

“Your favorite brat.” Wanda retorts playfully then kisses Nat’s cheek and back to her sitting position. She decides to join in the euphoria that the controlled substance has to offer. She sets a line then inhales easily as her husband takes another hit from the bong. Tony and Pietro casually enjoying the effect from the cocaine and now talking with girls they met somehow.

You saw everything and it instantly drove you crazy. Your mind can’t unsee that tempting view from Natasha and Wanda that was presented right before your eyes. As Lick It by Valentino Khan echoes loudly, you start to dance more, trying to be as seductive as Wanda for Nat to watch. A random attractive girl comes to you and starts a conversation with you while dancing with you. Her hands hold your body and get pretty close with you. You subtly move around and make her back face Nat just so you can see Nat, or perhaps her reaction when you are dancing with the stranger. Your mind feels like moving so fast. You can’t decipher why you want her attention so much. The urge to keep looking at her or even to walk there to her and make a move feels so strong.

Your eyes betray you, refuse to leave the view of Natasha Romanoff. She takes her turns inhaling the white line to heavenly pleasure while still having the effect of Absinthe and weed earlier. She lays her back on the back rest of the couch, spreading her legs a little bit. She lays one of her arms on the top of the back rest while the other hand subtly taps her lap as her eyes look at yours accompanied by a knowing smirk. Her gaze stabs your heart through.

Gosh the way she sits really makes you want to be on her lap. Natasha can see and she knows how much she has you in her grip despite how drunk and high she is. She desired you even more. Her mind picturing you dancing seductively in front of her, only for her, nobody else. She wants to claim you as hers. She knows she can have you. She is a confident woman and the stimulant drug raises it up on so many levels.

Your vision is sometimes blurry. Sometimes you feel like you are spinning, or have a double vision. You start to put effort to stand straight while you dance and it makes you drunkenly laugh together with the girl you are dancing with. Unamused, Nat shifts her sitting position. She leans forward with her elbows on her thigh, both her hands entwine each other. Her heart races.

Wanda notices how you are and what you are trying to do. “Oh, someone’s trying to get your attention, Natty. You better move fast, darling, before someone takes her away from you.” Wanda teases Nat with a slight sing-song tone.

"Like I told you earlier, Wands, she is mine." Nat answer.

“Maybe you should ask her to join us here and try the good stuff we have. You know what I meant?” Wanda continues her way to get into Nat’s head as she gently taps her fingertip on Nat’s nose.

“I will but she is different. She would’ve come here already if she was like the others.” Nat turns her head, looking upset.

“She is playing hard to get, sweetie. She wants you to come to her.” Wanda suggests but silence is all she got. The red haired woman grabs the bong to distract herself from Wanda’s words but the brunette next to her quickly grasps it from her.

“Well, in that case, seduce her slowly. Make her want you even more.” said Wanda.

Nat furrows her eyebrows and as soon as she is going to question why she did that, Tony talks to her and drags her attention to him and the girl who is sitting on his lap. She turns her head to Tony and gets engaged in a conversation with him.

Meanwhile, you are multitasking between dancing and watching what’s going on. You are so focused on the VIP spot that you don’t notice that Kate and MJ go back to the bar to get some more drinks.

Your focus is split into two between the girl in front of you and what Wanda is doing. You see the brunette setting another round of hits on the bong and inhaling the whole smoke from it before she quickly grabs Nat's jaws to turn her head to her.

It is obvious that Nat is caught off guard for a few seconds but instantly figures out that Wanda is trying to do the “shotgun” trick. Wanda’s lips are merely an inch from Nat’s. She slowly blows the smoke in the direction of her lips.

Nat inhales all the smoke in and as soon as the smoke is running out, Wanda kisses her on the lips, passionately.

Natasha returns the kiss as passionately as Wanda did. The two of them quickly sunken in a deep french kiss. Wanda subtly parts her lips and you can see clearly that Nat slips her tongue in. The kiss gets way more heated once Wanda feels Nat's tongue touch hers and surely the brunette welcomes it eagerly

Their mouths move in unison. Wanda's hand squeezed Nat's thigh once more, this time so much closer to her center. You know it does something to Nat by her obvious reaction to it. Her right hand without any hesitation wraps Wanda's throat tight enough to make her gasp in enjoyment and parts her mouth a little wider, then Nat quickly takes this chance to nibble Wanda's lower lips, gently pulls it until her teeth lose its grip to it.

The view you just saw instantly gets in your head. Wanda’s plan worked. You don’t even care about the girl in front of you anymore. Seeing them kiss makes you have a huge urge to get so close to Nat.

Both of them smile at each other after the kiss. "Your lips still taste sweet like always." Nat stated and a smirk appeared. You swallow hard your desire. You want to feel and taste her lips. You want her hand wrapped around your throat the way it did to Wanda’s. You don’t know if this the alcohol thinking or it’s you but some part of you even wants to be between Nat and Wanda. What’s wrong with you? Yes, that’s what you are thinking now.

You close your eyes and try to shake those images in mind off you. Like a projector your brain keeps showing images of you lying between Nat and Wanda or the image of both of them touching and kissing you all over you. You start to hear voices or sound, well you thought you did. Sounds of her whisper and moan in your ear. Your brain starts to think how Nat will sound when she praises you. You went back to the bar to get another shot of drink.

"You still like to bite my lips." Wanda sensually responds. "Well, you know me and what I like." Nat whispers.

"She was looking at us. She bit the bait." Wanda informs after she notices that you eagerly watched what just happened between them two earlier.

"Alright, you two. Get a room." Tony poking fun at both of them..

"Oh, the old hot flame came back between you two?” Pietro teases right after he takes another sniff of more cocaine.

“We were just fuck buddies, Piet.” Nat casually answers Pietro. “We still are.” Wanda adds and Nat nods with a smile. "Yes, we are."

“I have no problem at all with it.” Vision jumps in with his jokes then sips his scotch.

Nat cleans her nose after taking another one then with such confidence, as soon as she sees you are back into the dance floor she stands up. “Now, please excuse me, I’m gonna claim what’s mine.” with that Nat walks to the dance floor, to you.

“Hey Nat! Here, you might need this later.” Tony’s voice falters her steps. He throws a small pack of the euphoric white drug. She caught it and kept it in her pocket then continued to walk towards you.

_____

The warmth from the alcohol hasn’t left your throat, slowly moves down past your chest then to your stomach. You are not really listening to what the blonde girl is saying to you. All you hear right now Oxytocin by Billie Eilish starts to play. You knew you should’ve drank water but you took another shot instead. Subconsciously, you want to stay drunk to keep your confidence standing tall just in case Natasha comes to you. “Oh hell, what are you thinking, Y/n. She won’t come to you.” You internally have a pep talk with yourself.

All of a sudden, your heart skips a beat from beating so fast. Your lungs forgot how to breathe when you see the one and only Natasha Romanoff standing a few steps in front of you then walks towards you.

Without a second thought, you left the blonde and walked closer to her.

“Hi.” She greets you politely yet gives you a smile that has a lot of meaning behind it. “Hi.” You answer confidently, thanks to the alcohol.

“I’m Natasha. What’s your name?” She asks as her hands suddenly pull you closer to her. You gasp. One of her eyebrows raises at the same time with a smirk. “My name is whatever you call me.” You have no idea where those confident words come from but Nat likes it. The mix of lust and high self esteem you have right now lead you to move your body, dancing sensually for her. You love the feelings of her hands on your hips. Your hooded drunk eyes admiring every inch of her face and her red locks.

“Really? I would love to call you my good girl if you can be one.” The dominant tone vaguely and slowly shows up as she responds to your somewhat inviting answer.

“Will I be rewarded if I’m good?” You ask.

Her lips that curved into this alluring smile, makes you want to kiss her. Like a magnet, it pulls your face so close to hers. Her lips almost catch your lips into a kiss but you are trying hard to fight it. You quickly turn around, let your back gently press onto her front.

The feelings of her hand glides gently circling your waist as she turns you around to face her again and wakes the tiny hairs behind the back of your neck.

She can feel your breath land on her face as she gets your face close the way she wants it.

"I want my good girl to look at me when I talk to her." Natasha said it with a stronger dominance tone, her hands run from your upper back and slowly down to your lower back, your hips then to your ass cheeks. She squeezed them a little firmly.

Your lips are slowly ajar and you let out another breathy exhale. “Okay, I’m looking at you now, at your gorgeous green eyes.” You talk in almost a slur as your half closed drunk eyes look at hers. Your heartbeats tripling in speed and you wonder if she can feel it through her chest. You are no longer trying to dance to impress her. You are stunned by her charm, too stunned that all you can do is sway slowly just so you can feel her body rubbing against yours.

”Good girls always get rewards.” She says as her eyes flicks between your eyes then to your lips and back to your eyes. Her right hand cups your cheeks and the right side of your head. Her slender fingers rake between your hair and she grabs your hair delicately but her grip gets stronger slowly. You almost let out a moan from the feelings but you manage to hold it back. “So tell me, what is my reward if I am being your good girl?” You look at her curiously. Your tone gets more and more teaseful. You are dying to know what she will give or do to you.

You thought you had successfully been playing hard to get around her but you are too drunk to know that you failed miserably and Natasha knows that. She knows you have fallen into her trap. Just like Wanda told her, you bit the bait. “You’ll know once I think you are good enough or deserve it.” The green eyed woman in front of you gives another tricky answer as her left hand leaves your ass and slides up past your hips, your ribs then it stops right under your breast so close to where you wish she would stop at.

Natasha fights the urge to have you right there, right now. She knows Wanda was right. She needs to subtly lure you more, make your mind going crazy so you will beg her to take you with her. She leans to you and gives you the lightest kiss on your neck. You barely feel it but enough to frustrate you and you let out a little complaint. “That’s no fun.”

She pulls her head away from you and her piercing green eyes look at you straight to your soul and almost stop your breathing, thinking that you might have said something wrong and lose your reward that was mentioned.

“Come with me to the restroom and I’ll show you fun.” said Natasha.

In a split second you ask yourself if you really heard what you think you heard. You are battling if you should come with her but your desire and her appeal gets the best in you. You are nervous yet thrilled and you said yes instantly.

Wanda keeps watching both of you while kissing a girl who is grinding on her lap but suddenly Wanda stops the kiss as soon as she sees both of you walk away. Vision notices and curiously asks while he is enjoying another brunette giving him a lap dance  “Wanda, darling, what’s wrong?”

“Nat is taking her somewhere. She is such a fucking tease to that girl and to me. Fuck, I really want her.” She answers as she grabs the whiskey from his hand and takes it in one gulp. Wanda is desperate to have you together with Natasha or perhaps, all for herself. It irritates her that she can't have you when she wants to because of Natasha.

Tony laughs. "Maximoff, you heard her, right? That girl is hers."

"I know. I'll find my way until Nat shares her with me." Wanda confidently replies under her breath then takes a hold of the jaw of the girl who is waiting for her on her lap. She continues kissing the girl as her right hand grasps her hips as her order for the girl to continue grinding on her.

_____

You follow where Natasha is taking you. She is holding your hand so protectively, walking through an ocean of people. You love the feeling she is holding your hand. You even try to focus so you can see her hand holding yours. Bad Guy by Billie Eilish starts loud and it feels like adding more rush feelings in you.

Your mind ponders what both of you are going to do. Some people look at both of you as you pass. Some of them even look like they are gossiping about both of you.

Wait, what if you will be on T.V tomorrow or social media. That can’t happen. As much as you don’t want it to happen, you can’t stop your feet. You want to be with her. Fuck, what should you do? Where are Kate and MJ?

It was Natasha’s intention to subtly keep them away from you. That was why she told Dimitri to make whatever they want to drink, get them too drunk to pay attention where you are or what you are doing.

All of those thoughts in your head magically disappear as soon as you see her look back at you and she opens the restroom door.

Without wasting any second, as soon as you both are in the bathroom, Natasha locks the door and quickly picks you up, you squeal and spontaneously both of your hands are locked around the back of her neck for balance.

Once she sits you down on the counter, she leans into you. Her body gets in between your legs. Her right hand gives a light tuck on your hair but enough to make you expose your neck. She buried her face in the crook of your neck. She inhales your scents as she brings one of her hands on your thigh. “You smell really good. I love it.” She whispers and gives a few short soft kisses on your skin, once again her lips barely touch your skin. Your breathing gets faster and a low and soft moan slips out of your lips when you feel her hands slide up your skirt way up there. The restroom sounds so quiet but you can still hear the muffled sound of the music from outside.

The sounds of the breathing and soft breathy whimpers from both of you fill up the room.

Your guard slowly falls apart and you slowly run your hands up to her hair. You even moan a little from feeling her soft red hair brush your hand. She suddenly squats down then she spreads your legs wide as her darkening lusty green eyes look at you, sending heat to your center.

You think of every possible naughty thought your brain can come up with but soon the thoughts are replaced by confusion. You see Nat line up white powder on your left thigh and she inhale the line. The feeling of the tip of her nose brushing up your skin and her left hand moving up at the same time really gives a rush of soft electric waves that wakes up every single nerve under your skin including between your folds.

She steals your breath more when she licks the residue of the euphoria-producing drug off your skin, she runs her tongue so close to your core. “Fuck.” The word forces its way out of your lips. She looks up to you and smirks when she is served with a view of you watching her while you bite your lower lips enjoying every single inch of your skin that she licks.

Natasha stands up, still between your legs. After a few times of her teasing you with her kiss that barely meets your skin, you finally feel her lips kiss your neck. She nibbles your neck then sucks it gently as her hand surprises you with touch on your center through your lingerie.

“Oh my god.” A breathy moan escapes. With a little pressure, her middle finger circling your clit through the damp fabric. “You are wet already.” She whispers. Your brain turns into a puddle as soon as her voice makes its way to be heard.

You try to move up your hips. Noticing your effort to grind on her finger so you can get more friction from it, her other hand forces you to stop your movement. “Sssh. Slow down. The fun has not even started yet, detka.”

She leans back a little, you whimper in disappointment. She carefully poured the cocaine along her middle finger that touched your wet center just now.

“Here is the fun that I want you to try.” She explains as she refers to the little stacked line of coke. Her voice and her tone sound so soft but feels so seductive as soon as it is caught in your hearing. Your hesitation is visible for Nat. You blink a few times to keep your eyes open, the alcohol starts to make you drowsy even though you hear what she said.

“This will keep the fun up for you. Trust me.” She tries to convince you. No words come out of you. All you do is keep looking back and forth between her and the white ticket to euphoria land on her finger.

“C’mon sweetheart. You know you want it.” She whispers seductively then licks your earlobe. She brings her focus back to look at you at the same time gets her finger a little closer to you. Just like that, you no longer have any guards between you and her seduction and influence.

You grab her wrist, get her hand closer to you and you sniff the whole powder off her finger. You can smell your own wetness lingering on it. In a second, the powder changes to a rush of burning feelings shooting up to your nasal and brain then you feel numb in your nose. You close your eyes from the shocking feelings as you pinch the bridge of your nose. Your forehead puckered, showing a line between your eyebrows. You sniff once more.

"There you go. It's okay, gorgeous. You are doing a great job." Natasha's tone is totally opposite from her intimidating one you heard earlier. She praises you and it just turns you on one more time. Giving you a whiplash of emotion, being praised and under her control at the same time.

Shortly, you feel different. Your eyes wide open, your heart thumping wildly. This huge confidence falls on you as if the world is in your very own hands. Without even thinking twice, you pull her hand as you suck her middle finger, taking the residue that's left and tasting your own self as you locked your hyped up lustful gaze with hers.

That view itself, flickered her desire to life. Turning her on in a millisecond. You are driving Natasha Romanoff crazy. The feelings of your mouth sucking her finger, makes her softly grunt with such sexual urge.

"Oh sweetie, your tongue and lips will be numb for a little bit." She slides her finger agonizingly slowly in and out your mouth, making you moan a little then she pulls her finger out.

"Then it means you can bite my lips as hard as you want." You reply in such a sensual tone as you bite your own lips.

"Such a good girl. My good girl. I was right. You are different. You are exactly how I like a girl." Her left hand cups your face and she brushes her thumb across your lips.

You start to feel overwhelmed, you want her so much more now. You want to dance with her, you want to pull her closer to you. Your body begged for her touch, her lips and everything you can get from her. Her little touch, the sound of her breathing, and her voice calling you her good girl twist a knot in your stomach. You try to touch yourself as you try to close your thigh.

"Ah ah ah. I didn't say you can do it yet." Her hands squeezed your thighs firmly, not letting them close and push your hand away from your needy pussy.

"Please, touch me." You beg in a whisper. She doesn't say a word but you feel her nails dragging around your thighs up to your center but stop when they are almost reaching where you need her the most. Then multiple knocking sounds echo in the restroom.

"Let's get out of here and have some fun with me, princess." She pitches her idea then lays another soft kiss on your collarbones. Then she helps you get off the counter, holds your hand as if you are hers, and leads you out of there.

Pt. 3

A/n: I hope you like this part 2. Let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. See you in next!

Cheerio!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @silver-lotus @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd (Let me know if you want to be tagged. Remind me if I miss your request to be in the taglist please)

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Hatefuck

Yeah, I could get used to this

bully!wooyoung x female reader

Trigger warnings: bullying

Content warnings: strong language, wine chat with hongjoong (god i wish), crying, wooyoung wears a stupid looking apron.

Summary: it’s been two months and hongjoong demands to know why you’ve pushed everyone away. can wooyoung redeem himself?

Word count: 6342

A/N: i absolutely loved writing this, it made me sad =D anyways, i’ll probably release the third part in a week so i have time to finish the fourth part and decide if i’m doing a fifth or not. its super fucking sweet (and kinda hot tbh) so look forward to it! anyways read part one here! consider giving me a follow here and on my main. submit asks and requests here and consider turning on post notifications for regular uploads! i’ve got a couple things on the docket this week so be looking forward to it!

Tag list: @starlight-night0​ @teezers99​ @alecanal93​ @youre-a-wallflower-charlie​

<-Previous | Next->

It had been two months since Wooyoung left you alone in your bed after rearranging your guts. You made it a point to interact with him as little as possible, not even answering texts or responding when he tried to mess with you. If he approached you, you vacated the area.

 Just as you’d assumed, he’d told all the guys what had happened. So when Seonghwa texted you with a dinner invitation or Mingi sent you a meme, you just ignored their messages. You felt ashamed. You couldn’t walk into that house and pretend you hadn’t fucked one of their best friends when they knew the relationship you had with him. When you saw them on campus, you’d shove your earbuds in and crank up your music before they could approach you while pretending you hadn’t noticed them.

 Hongjoong was getting tired of you giving him the slip. After two months of you actively avoiding all eight of them, he stopped you at the library. He quite literally backed you into a corner on the second floor, which was much quieter than the main floor but still lively, and crossed his arms as he stood over you. “We need to talk. Now.”

 You shook your head. “I have class in fifteen minutes.” It was true. This wasn’t some ploy to dip out on him. You’d come in to grab a coffee and a book between classes. But he didn’t look happy and you found yourself chewing on the inside of your cheek, feeling guilty. “Look, I have to go. Can I just text you when I’m back at my place? I’ll send you the address and we can have a drink and I’ll explain everything.”

 “If you don’t reach out by this evening, I’ll be asking Wooyoung where you live and dropping by regardless.” You nodded and bit the inside of your lip. “I’m not kidding. We need to talk and we will be talking tonight.” His tone was firm but far from cold. He stepped back and motioned for you to go. “Get to class.”

 You immediately scurried off, letting out a sigh of relief at the fact this wasn’t a class you shared with Wooyoung. It was also your last class of the day. Unfortunately, this was a class you shared with Jongho. It had been difficult keeping a distance from the surprisingly-sweet boy when he constantly tried to sit beside you and start up a conversation. You’d managed to scrape by the last two months with awkward pleasantries and light chatter about your programming project.

 When you arrived at the lecture hall, he was already seated towards the middle of the room. You let out another sigh of relief at that, realizing he’d arrived before you and you wouldn’t have to endure another awkward encounter. You settled in at the back of the room and began scrawling notes when class started, counting down the minutes until you were free to leave. You quickly put your headphones in after packing your bag and hightailed it out of the room before Jongho could spot you.

 As you made your way across campus to your car, you pulled out your phone and sent Hongjoong your address. You also told him what drinks you had and said he was welcome to bring something of his own if nothing you had seemed appealing. Then you pocketed your phone and broke into a jog.

 Half an hour later, you were parking in front of your apartment. You thought you’d have a while to straighten up but as you reached the top of of the stairs, you saw Hongjoong sitting by your door. He offered a small smile which you awkwardly returned as he stood so you could open the door. “I thought you were hiding again when you didn’t answer.” He chuckled softly.

 “Ah, no. I get out of class at four. I texted you while I was heading to my car.” You explained as you unlocked the door. Both of you walked inside and slipped your shoes off. You hung your bag on the hook by the door and shrugged your jacket off, hanging it beside your bag before looking to Hongjoong. “I can take your coat if you’d like.”

 He quickly shed the extra layer and you hung it beside yours before leading him to the kitchen. It was quiet and awkward as you busied yourself with pulling out glasses for the wine he’d chosen. You poured the wine and passed him a glass before heading to sit on your sofa with him. You sat with your legs curled beneath you, your back against the arm rest, and he sat with one leg hanging off the couch as he faced you.

 “Y/n, what the hell happened?” His voice was low and full of worry. “I know you two hooked up but you’ve been avoiding all of us like the plague. We miss you.” You felt guilty and couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze as you spoke up.

 “You know how much he hates me after I told him I wouldn’t go out with him. He goes out of his way to make things harder for me. I’m surprised he’s actually left me alone outside of group work the last two months if I’m being honest.” You sighed, your eyes glued to the glass in your hand. “I gave in that night because I desperately needed to get railed. But as soon as it was over and I was laying alone in my bed, still covered in cum, I realized I’d fucked up. I knew he’d tell you all what had just happened and he’d be so smug about it. I knew nothing was really gonna change. I realized he just knew even more about how to get under my skin and he’d use that to his advantage. I was ashamed and embarrassed and didn’t want to face you guys for fear of what he might’ve said.”

 He took everything in quietly, nodding along as you spoke. “He didn’t tell us until a week later when he was having an argument with Seonghwa.” He paused and you bit your lip. “I’m not excusing how he’s treated you the last two years, that’s unacceptable, but I’ll be honest with you. He’s still head over heels for you. He’s been so irritable recently and nobody can mention your name without him getting crabby. Up until two months ago, almost every word out of his mouth was about you but now none of us can bring you up without pissing him off.”

 “Well he should’ve thought about how it would affect him before he effectively broke into my house.” You huffed and took a gulp of wine. “I’m honestly just surprised he’s stopped interacting with me in the last couple of weeks. Even after we slept together, he would come take whatever book I was reading or try to start an argument but I just kept blowing him off and I guess he finally took the hint.”

 “Y/n, I need you to stop.” You looked up with an irritated expression and he continued. “I’m not saying forgive him or even talk to him. But the rest of us didn’t do anything to deserve being iced out. We all really like you and want you to keep coming around.”

 “That’s the problem though.” You sighed, sipping your drink again. “The night I came over to work on the project, he was complaining about you guys being so friendly with me. Now I wouldn’t say we were particularly close, you all were nice enough to try and bring me into the fold. But he absolutely hated it. He insisted I had heart eyes after talking to Seonghwa and that I wanted to fuck all of you. In all honesty, the thought never crossed my mind, so I don’t know what he was so pressed about. I was more concerned with the fact that the best friends of someone who seems to hate me wanted to get close to me. I felt like I needed to keep some distance because it’s hard to be part of a friend group and have beef with one person in particular within the group. I know you guys are a package deal.”

 “We are indeed.” He agreed with a nod and sipped his wine. “But honestly we’ve all started to suffer since you vanished. Everyone is blaming him for driving you away - rightfully so - and we’ve all been arguing. He picks fights with all of us, saying we have no reason to be concerned for you and that he’s the only one who can worry about you. He’s convinced we’re all hopelessly in love with you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re great. But like you said, the thought never crossed our minds.”

 “Not even a little?” You teased, laughing quietly when he lightly kicked your knee. Then you grew serious again and bit your lip. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be treating you guys like this just because I’m ashamed of sleeping with him. It’s not fair to you guys. I’m just not sure how to move forward and deal with him without dealing with him. I’ve taken all I can take over the last two years and I’ve seriously considered dropping out or transferring schools to avoid him. If he hadn’t taken my rejection so poorly, maybe we could’ve moved past everything and been friends. He seems like a great guy when I see him with the rest of you guys and if he had stayed like that with me, maybe none of this-”

 Your phone buzzed, signaling a message. “Speak of the devil.” You laughed ruefully when you saw his name displayed on your screen. What the hell did he want?

 Bastard: whatever Hongjoong says, it’s not true

 You: so you’re not dying to see me and regretting every bad thing you’ve ever done?

 You wanted to mess with him a little. You locked your phone and turned your attention back to Hongjoong. “I’m not telling you to subject yourself to his bullshit again, but please stop pushing the rest of us away. They all feel like they’ve done something to upset you even though they know otherwise. Jongho comes home with a pout, complaining his favorite noona won’t talk to him in class.”

 “I can’t possibly be his favorite noona.” You shook your head as a small smile settled on your lips. “The class I just had, we’re in that one together and every time I get there before him, he seeks me out and sits with me. He chatters on excitedly about everything going on in his life and the last two months I’ve just been nodding along. The conversations have gotten awkward because I’ve pushed everyone away. I feel bad but I’m not entirely sure how to face Wooyoung.”

 “Why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow and see how things go? You can ignore him and just enjoy spending time with the rest of us. They’ll all be thrilled to see you again.” He nudged you with his knee. “He’s been eating in his room recently anyways because every meal with him has just resulted in everyone fighting.”

 You weren’t sure. You wanted to see them but you didn’t know how to handle things if you had to see him. Hongjoong sensed your apprehension and leaned forwards, taking your hand and giving you a warm smile. This was all the convincing you needed. “Okay. I’ll come to dinner. I feel like I owe everyone an apology. But keep it a secret, yeah? I kinda wanna surprise them.” You grinned and his smile grew wider.

 “I can do that.” He agreed instantly, nodding vigorously as he sat back. “So…how have classes been? Or rather, how have you been in general?” He asked, opening up the conversation to flow in a more lighthearted direction.

 “Classes are beating my ass right now.” You groaned and took another gulp of your wine, finishing your glass and setting it aside. “Honestly, if it weren’t for your invitation, I’d probably be spending tomorrow night studying. Finals season is closing in and if I have to keep looking at code and business lingo, I’m going to gouge my fucking eyes out.”

 He could only laugh at your misery, nodding along in agreement. You continued to chat for another hour before he stood. “It’s almost six so I should go. They’re about to start on dinner and I told Yeosang I’d help him tonight.” You stood with him and led him to the door, saying your goodbyes. He caught you in a tight hug before leaving you alone in your apartment, a small smile on your face. It felt good to let everything out and catch up with him. Hongjoong had a way of comforting everyone who came to him with a problem. You went to take the glasses back to the kitchen and saw your phone light up again.

 Bastard: ….okay, maybe. But you shouldn’t be hearing that from him. I think we should talk.

 You: I don’t know if we should, Wooyoung. I don’t know if I have the energy anymore. I’m so tired.

 Bastard: Can I come over? Please? I promise I won’t try anything funny. I just want to clear things up. Plus I’m on dishes tonight but they won’t make me do them if I’m not here to eat lmao

 You: Wow. A whole child. Fine. But one misstep and you’re gone.

 Bastard: Thank you. I’ll be there in ten.

 You: Then you can help cook. I’m making meatball subs.

 Bastard: You’re a sub

 You: Thin ice, buddy

 Bastard: Sorry

 You put your phone down and picked up the glasses, heading to the kitchen with them. You put them in the sink and pulled out a pot, putting it on the stove. You began your prep work and by the time you were done, Wooyoung was knocking at your door. You let out a sigh and went to let him in.

 “I’m sorry. You didn’t respond so I don’t know if you saw it but I’m sorry about the sub thing.” You almost laughed when that was the first thing he said. You stepped aside to let him in and just shook your head, letting out a sigh.

 “I saw. I didn’t have a response so I just went about my business.” You shrugged and locked the door back, as was habit. He kicked his shoes off and followed you to the kitchen. “I have a couple rules.” He looked at you expectantly so you continued. “If I say stop, you shut your mouth. Also, as punishment, I want you to wear this goofy-ass apron.” You held up a frilly pink apron with ‘Kiss the Cook’ emblazoned across the chest.

 He groaned in frustration but put the apron on and you got to work, directing him around the kitchen. While the food was cooking, you were standing shoulder to shoulder with him at the stove. You decided now was as good a time as ever to bring up something Hongjoong said. “You’re the only one who can worry about me, huh?” Your voice was quiet and your eyes didn’t leave the sauce you were making. “Kinda funny coming from the one who created every scenario in which someone could worry about me.”

 “I- uh-“ he cleared his throat awkwardly and you saw his knuckles go white as he gripped the spoon tighter. “Look, I know I’ve been an ass.” That was an understatement. “I’ve treated you like shit since you turned me down. I’m not gonna try to deny that. I just felt like if I didn’t mess with you, I couldn’t talk to you because things would be awkward after you rejected me. I felt like I couldn’t approach you normally after that and innocent teasing became full blown bullying. I’m not trying to excuse anything, I just wanted to explain why I acted that way. I know I’m in the wrong for everything that happened over the last two years.”

 “You are.” You nodded, stirring away at the sauce. “Honestly, if you’d just acted like nothing happened, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. We could’ve been pretty close. I wouldn’t feel awkward befriending the others while trying not to step on your toes and make things worse for myself.” You sighed and dropped the handle of the wooden spoon, turning to face him. He stared down at the food, refusing to look at you. He looked like a scolded child.

 “I’ll sound like a bitch if I say I’m blaming you. But honestly, I’m okay with that. I do blame you for how things went south. I’m not gonna pretend to understand and follow your logic, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I will agree you had every right to feel hurt when I said no. Everyone feels hurt after a rejection. I just wish you’d been fucking normal about it instead of treating me like shit. I seriously considered dropping out or transferring to a different university or changing my major to get away from you. I dreaded seeing you. But after you fucked me dumb and dipped, only to resume your bullshit, I couldn’t keep doing it. I gave up. Your shit wasn’t worth the energy when I could be doing more productive things.”

 He looked like he wanted to cut in but he kept his mouth shut, his ears going red. If his hair hadn’t been hanging over his eyes, you would’ve seen them watering a bit. “I was relieved when you stopped trying to bother me. I finally felt like I could walk around campus and not dread running into you. But I had already started icing out everyone else and they didn’t deserve that either. I guess Hongjoong got fed up with your antics at home and me brushing them off every day because he cornered me today and demanded to talk.”

 After a few seconds of silence, you turned back to the sauce and continued to stir. The silence didn’t last though. “I’m sorry.” You felt like you hadn’t heard that right. He’d never apologized to you before. “I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t realize how hard I was making things for you. I knew I was willfully being an ass but I didn’t realize you’d considered dropping out just so I’d leave you alone. Hell, I never knew I made you cry until a few months ago when Hongjoong lit into me after chatting with you. I don’t want you to leave. You didn’t deserve any of what I did and I’m sorry.”

 You didn’t speak, just nodded as you listened. He stopped messing with the food and simply stood there as he spoke. “Nothing about what I did was normal. I spent the last couple weeks reflecting on everything and I started therapy. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I want it desperately but I know I don’t deserve it. I haven’t done anything to earn it.”

 The two of you stood in silence again for a brief moment before you spoke up. “You’re right. You haven’t done a damn thing to earn it. You haven’t done anything to show me you’re going to change. You showed up to talk but you haven’t proven anything. You don’t deserve it, you’re right.” He let out a soft sigh and you turned to him again. “But for some godforsaken reason, I feel inclined to give it to you.”

 He looked up from the food, surprise written all over his face as he turned his head to look at you. You stood there staring at each other, faces heating up from the weight of each others gazes before he finally spoke. “But….why? I mean, even if I hadn’t been an asshole for two years, leaving you alone that night would’ve been enough for you to cut me out. We went hard. You were bound to need aftercare and I just bounced. I mean, shit, I was bruised up from all the hitting and that bite, I can’t imagine you were in better shape. That alone would’ve been enough for you to be done with me even if we hadn’t had a strained relationship at best. So why?”

 “That’s an excellent question that I don’t have an answer for.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your middle. “And I can confirm, I was indeed in worse shape. You left hickeys everywhere and I had bruises on my hip and wrists from how tightly you held me. And let’s not forget how irritated my knees were from that position.” You laughed in spite of yourself and shook your head. “I can’t make it make sense, Wooyoung. Maybe I’ve lost the ability to put up with shit. Maybe you fucked it right out of me.”

 For the first time ever, he gave a genuine laugh at something you said. It wasn’t hateful, it didn’t intimidate you. He genuinely sounded joyful as he fully turned to face you rather than just looking at you over his shoulder. You tensed noticeably as he wrapped his arms around you, still laughing even as he pulled you into his chest. It was strange being held like this by him of all people but you didn’t hate it. You were about to wrap your arms around his waist when he opened his mouth. “Kitten retracted her claws.” He snorted and you glared up at him, swatting his chest.

 “You ruined it. It was going so well and you ruined it.” You deadpanned as he looked down at you in confusion, his laughter stopping immediately. He quickly caught on and gave you a sheepish grin as he reached up, slapping his own lips and muttering a soft ‘sorry’. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. “You’re fucking stupid sometimes. Don’t make it a habit.” You let out a soft laugh and gently pushed him away, returning to the sauce, which was now ready to be poured over the meatballs. “I think….if you can keep acting like this, things can work out. Minus the names, of course. I only let partners give me pet names.” You gave him a pointed look.

 He nodded slowly, helping you lift the pan to pour the sauce over the meatballs. “I can do that. I’ll stop with the names too. If I call you a name, you can flick my forehead or something. Just don’t give me a concussion, I’ll probably slip up a lot. I’m kind of an idiot, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He snorted, his body shaking with laughter.

 You could feel the vibrations of his laughter in his chest against your back. You didn’t know why he chose to stand behind you and wrap his arms around you to help but the position felt intimate. He’d had you in far more intimate positions before but something about the shift in his personality paired with this action made your face heat up. You cleared your throat as you shook yourself back to reality and shook your head. “I can’t make any promises on the concussion.” You chuckled as he backed away, laughing softly with you.

 He grew quiet after a moment and you could feel his eyes boring holes into your back as you mixed the meatballs into the sauce. “This is nice…” his voice was just above a whisper and you gave a tiny nod before directing him to grab the cheese from the fridge while you got the bread.

 “Hongjoong invited me for dinner. They’re gonna be confused as hell tomorrow when I rock up and you try to make conversation instead of hiding in your room to avoid me.” You hummed as you began to assemble the sandwiches. You handed him a plate and shooed him off to the table while you fixed your plate. When you joined him at the table, you tilted your head and stared at him. “How have they been? I know I talked to Hongjoong and he said everyone’s been fighting. He said Jongho’s been all pouty. Has it really been that hard on everyone?”

 He nodded almost instantly and you felt your heart sink. “I’ve been….sensitive about it all and bitching every time they bring you up. They’re mad at me for driving you off and they’re honestly hurt that you just disappeared overnight. I think it’s safe to say everyone misses you.”

 You nodded slowly and began to eat, feeling guilty for being the source of this mess. “Well, now that you and I have come to some sort of agreement on things, they’ll be seeing a lot more of me than they ever did. Not as much as you did, but still.” You gave a little laugh at his stunned expression and shook your head. “It’s okay to joke about it. I may get a little indignant but that’s normal teasing and I can accept it. Teasing is okay.” You assured him and he nodded, continuing to eat.

 It was oddly nice sitting with him and chatting over dinner. The two of you chattered on about all sorts of things, eventually lamenting about the programming project and how much still had to be done before it was time to submit it in three weeks. “Like I told Joongie, if I have to keep looking at code, I’m gonna gouge my eyes out.” You groaned, slumping in your seat. He laughed and nodded but stared at you for an uncomfortably long time and you were about to ask if something was on your face when he spoke.

 “You know, I was just thinking about it. You have nicknames for everyone else but you’ve only ever called me ‘asshole’. Now that we’re working on things, do I get a nickname too?” He looked hopeful and excited, like a puppy, and you felt warm inside. Yeah, you thought, I can get used to this.

 “Well first off, I don’t have nicknames for everyone.” You rolled your eyes as a smile settled on your face. “I don’t have a name for Yeosang, Mingi, or Jongho. Maybe I’ll call Yeosang Sangie or something.” You chuckled and crossed your arms. “Why don’t I just call you Woo like the rest of them do? Or Wooyoungie?”

 “I like both of those.” He wasn’t about to admit how much he liked them. The guys used those names for him and it was just…normal. But hearing you say it? He felt like he’d just been washed in battery acid. He was still hopelessly in love with you but he wasn’t sure he’d ever tell you that. He didn’t know Hongjoong had already spilled the beans though. He cleared his throat after a moment of silence and stood, taking the apron off. “It’s already almost eight. I should go. We’ve both got a ton of homework to do.”

 You nodded and stood with him, taking the apron and draping it over the back of your chair. “Do me a favor?” You hummed as you walked him to the door. He looked up at you as he slid his shoes on, waiting for your request. A grin broke out on your face as you spoke. “Don’t tell them you were here and that we’re mostly okay now. Hongjoong is the only one who knows I’ll be there tomorrow, I told him to keep it a secret because I want to surprise them. I think it’ll confuse them further if we’re just…getting along after two years of fighting.”

 He laughed and nodded. “Gladly. They think I’m at a bar looking for girls right now anyways.” Why did that bother you? You shook it off and laughed with him, seeing him off and locking up behind him. Once alone, you let out a sigh.

 “What the hell did I just get into?”

  ————————————

  Hongjoong had texted you twenty minutes ago saying they were halfway done cooking. You’d taken ten minutes to freshen up your makeup and redo your ponytail before gathering everything you’d need. Ten minutes later, you were standing at their front door. You’d texted Hongjoong and Wooyoung both to notify them of your arrival and now you were trying to calm yourself before knocking. You were excited.

 You knocked and it took a few minutes for the door to open but when it did, a stunned Mingi stood before you. You stood there with a bright smile as you waited for some sort of response. Finally, you were engulfed in a warm hug and he pulled you inside. “Oh my god. Hi. I didn’t know you were coming.”

 “I told Joongie to keep it a secret. He came by my place yesterday to talk and invited me to dinner.” You explained as you gently pulled back so you could remove your shoes and drop your bag. Mingi took your jacket and put it on the hook by the door before leading the way to the kitchen, where everyone was getting seated at the table.

 At first, no one really noticed and San called out without looking up, asking who was at the door. When Mingi didn’t answer, he looked up and one by one they all noticed your presence. All of them looked shocked but delighted as you waved. Wooyoung patted the space between himself and Hongjoong and you sat between them as everyone voiced their surprise. “Joongie came to see me last night and invited me for dinner.” You explained as Seonghwa jumped up to fix you a bowl. It was uncomfortably quiet as they all looked at you, perplexed as to why you showed up seemingly out of nowhere. “So…what’s up?” You looked around, starting to feel uncomfortable at the silence and the way they all stared at you.

 That seemed to be the kick needed to start the conversation and the room filled with chatter as Seonghwa placed a bowl of rice in front of you and gestured to all the dishes in the center of the table as if to tell you to dig in. As everyone tucked in, Hongjoong leaned over towards you. “Thank you for coming.” He whispered and you offered him a small smile.

 As you turned back to your food, Wooyoung placed a piece of meat on your rice and you muttered a tiny thanks as the rest of them exchanged quizzical glances. Hongjoong was the only one who expected the exchange so you weren’t surprised when Seonghwa’s narrow gaze zeroed in on you. “Okay, what’s going on here? You show up out of nowhere and suddenly he’s playing nice. What is happening?”

 “Well….Joongie stopped by last night and we talked about how I just dipped on you guys and how it was affecting you all. I recognize it was wrong of me to let my issues with Woo get in the way of our friendship and I’m sorry for cutting you guys off.” You sighed softly and sipped your water before continuing. “Not even ten minutes after Joongie left, Woo was at my door. We talked things over and he apologized for everything. We aren’t entirely okay yet, but I think there’s hope.” You explained, everyone quiet save for the sounds of them munching away and sipping their water.

 Yunho was the first to speak. “I mean, you gave him a nickname that wasn’t ‘asshole’ so things must be looking up.” He chuckled and everyone erupted in laughter as you nodded.

 “He actually asked me to give him a different nickname over dinner last night.” You laughed and picked up the meat he’d given you, quickly shoving it in your mouth followed by a spoonful of rice. “I told him he had to stop giving me nicknames though. He should pick one or two and stick with it.” You laughed, holding your hand in front of your mouth so no one saw your chewed food.

 Dinner went smoothly, everyone involving you in conversation and Wooyoung repeatedly putting meat and veggies in your bowl. It was strange but pleasant and certainly not unwelcome. When all the food was gone and everyone was leaving the room, Seonghwa reminded Wooyoung that he was on dishes tonight since he skipped out last night. He pouted but dragged himself from his seat and began to gather the dishes from the table. You stood and decided to give him a hand, bringing the dishes over while he got started on washing them. “You wash, I dry?” You hummed as you brought the last bowls over.

 He looked at you surprised before smiling and shaking his head. “Ah, you don’t have to.” You didn’t listen, picking up the dish towel anyways.

 “You helped with dinner last night.” You shrugged. He stared at you, not moving until you nudged him. Finally, he gave in and sighed, muttering something about your stubborn streak and handing you the first bowl.

 You shared banter as the two of you cleaned up and after a few minutes, everything was clean. You were about to head to the living room with the others when you felt wet hands on your cheeks. You let out a soft squeal and threw the towel at him, laughing as you started to wipe your face. You didn’t get very far before his large hands were back on your face. You went back and forth like this for a few minutes, laughter filling the room, before he stopped. His hands had dried by then so there was no more water to wipe on your face.

 But something in him broke when you looked up at him with that smile. There was a sparkle in your eyes he’d never gotten the chance to see. He’d been going about everything all wrong the last two years. He could’ve been having fun with you like this but instead he was making your life miserable. You froze as he hurriedly pulled you against him, burying his face in your neck. “W-Woo…”

 He shook his head as he held you. “I’m not gonna.” It was a simple reassurance that he wasn’t about to try to get you in bed again. “I just…I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.” He whispered, he breath tickling your neck. He sounded close to tears and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him.

 “I won’t lie and say it’s okay.” Your voice was soft and warm. “But we’re moving past that now.” Your hands splayed out over his back, rubbing circles there to soothe him. “It wasn’t okay. But we will be.” Those words were the last straw for him and you felt his shoulders shake, his breath hot on your skin as he let out a quiet sob.

 You stayed like that for a few minutes, rubbing his back as he cried into your shoulder and repeated soft ‘I’m sorry’s. Your heart broke and you credited that to how softhearted you were. When he finally pulled back to wipe his tears, your hands moved to his cheeks, not letting him back away. “I’m not gonna be able to forget and erase the last two years. But I do forgive you.” You murmured as your thumbs swiped his tears away.

 It was strange being there for him in such a raw moment after everything that had happened. His eyes were full of regret as he looked down at you and you gave a tiny smile, pulling him closer. You leaned up on your tippy toes and kissed his forehead and he almost broke down all over again. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve for you to just…let me in. How can you be so nice to someone who hurt you so many times?” You just shrugged and continued to run your thumbs over his cheekbones.

 “I dunno.” You said simply as your hands fell from his face. He caught them in his before they could drop back to your sides. “I always told myself that if you treated me like you treat everyone else, it wouldn’t be hard to get close to you. You’re a fun person. I can see that much even with my warped view of you. You’re the life of the party. The mood maker. You’re so smart and you build people up. I was honestly kind of jealous whenever you told the others they were doing a good job on the project but you didn’t so much as look in my direction. I felt invalidated. I knew not to expect much from you.”

 He looked hurt by your words. You could see that without him making eye contact as he played with your fingers. “But I can already see a change in you. You seem to regret everything and you’ve even started therapy. I must say, I never thought I’d live to see the day The Jung Wooyoung broke down in my arms.” You both gave a soft huff of laughter and he sniffled quietly. “I know you’re making an effort to better yourself and repent for everything you put me through. And I appreciate that so much.”

 “You blocking us all out gave me time to think and I came to a realization.” He looked up from your hands and met your gaze. “I thrived off our interactions. I knew I was pissing you off but at least I was getting to talk to you and be around you. I realized what I was doing to you wasn’t healthy. I wanted to keep you in my life and I knew I could only do that if I changed.” Your face was starting to flush under the intensity of his stare. “I’m gonna keep trying to be a better person so I don’t run you off again. I know I haven’t given you anything but my word, which shouldn’t mean shit to you at this point, but I’m trying.”

 “I know.”

[wishingyouback]

just call me.

semi-tsundere!minho

warnings: none

the walk back to campus would've been short, if it wasn't for the uncomfortable presence of your ex right beside you.

normally, you would've found any type of silence comforting, you would have even preferred it actually, but unfortunately your ex-boyfriend didn't get the memo, and had even got the extra (unnecessary) mile of walking you back to your class after bumping into you during lunch at your favourite, just across the street.

at first, you thought he was just being nice, being a little formal as it's been a while since you two have hung out, but apparently he wasn't, and was genuinely planning to walk you back as if it wasn't making you uncomfortable. after you had voiced out that it wasn't needed, at all. yet here you were, passing through the usual crowd of people with your arms wrapped comfortingly around yourself as you smiled at students you recognised. some who lounged around campus, sitting on the steps and some walking out of their class to sleep in the library -- it was a normal thing.

except for the fact that you noticed a figure making their way up to you, hands tucked coolly in their pocket as they effortlessly slung their leather backpack on one shoulder.

"you got a minute?"

the somber tone you've known minho to have is now hidden behind a more serious one. your ex halts whatever it is he's blabbering on about, staring at you then the raven-haired boy who patiently waits for your answer, not showing any emotion on his face to hint how he's feeling.

"dude, you mind? we were in the middle of a conversation."

in the midst of your surprise, you turn to minho to watch his reaction, but all he does is let out a heavy sigh and lazily turns to face the boy next to you.

"my bad, i thought for it to be considered a conversation there would have to be two people, talking." all you can do is watch the exchange by the side, glancing from one boy to the other. minho smiles sarcastically, then turns back to you, "do you have a minute?"

"i-i," you compose yourself, "i do."

"see," minho turns back to the boy who you once dated during sophomore year. "this is how it's done. see you, dude."

before you can register what is going on, minho subtly slips his calloused hands into your softer ones, trying to ignore the fact that your hands with his, do fit so perfectly together.

you let minho pull you away, taking note of how gentle he's being even when his face shows nothing but pure annoyance of the presence of your ex. when he reaches the quieter side of campus that you're familiar with, he let's your hand go. the both of you stand quietly together, -- this silence, although unexpected, was bearable -- comforting even. you were unsure of what to say. you're not used to seeing minho pull such a stunt, especially out in the open when he had made it clear many times, that he wanted to keep your friendship with him a secret. 

something to do about having to introduce you to too many people if he were to start hanging out with you, which you found amusing since minho had a handful of friends he could tolerate.

he wasn't fond of most people here.

"you were with him," he finally breaks the silence. "why?"

minho doesn't sound judgemental or harsh, in fact he sounds more concerned.

"with him?" you echo back the question, already being able to see minho roll his eyes despite his back still facing you. "it wasn't deliberately... we bumped into each other at Haven and he offered to walk me to class."

"and you said yes?" he finally turns to look at you, eyes carefully scanning your face to see if he's crossing the line.

"no," you sigh. "i said no, but he insisted and then waited 'till i was done so he could pay for my lunch too." you say with deep regret.

minho listens; he nods. he lets it all sink in until suddenly, he rolls his eyes and looks away from you.

"well," he shrugs. "if he tries doing that again just call me."

you furrow your eyebrows. "i thought you didn't like talking on the phone--"

"-- i changed my mind." he says nonchalantly, trying to brush it off but you notice the change in demeanour and bite back a smile. "i'm making an exception, alright? if there's an emergency or anything; just call me."

you’re a little stunned, “you consider this as an emergency?” the bored look he gives you makes you rephrase your sentence, to ask him something else.

"what if you don't pick up?" you genuinely ask.

minho wasn't the best texter, so you couldn't imagine how he'd be like with phone calls.

"i will," he says a little too quickly. "i mean, i will. just text me beforehand or something," he scratches the back of his head before clearing his throat and once again, avoids eye contact.

"lee minho, are you going soft on me?" you tease, deciding to use the moment right now to joke with him before you two part ways and go back to acknowledging each other with quiet nods around campus.

"you wish," he exaggerates a scoff, trying to cover up the pinkness of his cheek with his carefree attitude but he doesn't think he does a good job with it. not when he sees the cute smile you have on your face. "stop having shitty exes, then maybe i wouldn't have to be doing this."

"sure," you respond mockingly. "maybe you should try finding the right guy for me then, you know, since i have shitty exes." you quote with a roll of your eyes.

minho had his own share of ex girlfriends too, some you weren't sure how they ended up with him, but still, he was always picking at your somewhat horrible taste in men. for what reason, you aren't too sure.

"like you'd take my advice," minho scoffs as you two start walking back to the main area.

as you two reach a crowd, you're ready to do what usually do which is, walk away from minho, pretend you didn't see him and continue on with your day. but when you make your usual turn and still feel minho's presence next to you when you start walking up the steps to your class, you raise your eyebrows at him.

"what?"

"this isn't part of the arrangement?"

"what arrangement?"

is he being serious.

"the one you made about us not being seen together? now shoo!"

minho stifles a laugh at how you try to get rid of him as if he's one pesky fly, but shakes his head instead. he places both of his hands onto your shoulders then directs you to to your next class, which you coincidentally have together.

"i guess i changed my mind," he grins. "let's go, you're gonna make us late."

--

tag(s): @brokenwigglyline

--

author's note: can you tell i absolutely missed writing, and posting? :,) hahah but! again, i hope you enjoyed this and if you've read this far; thank you so much x

written roughly under an hour, so i apologise if it isn't any good, again.. but if there are any errors i'll try to fix them asap!

you're loved, always

ily, always x

[alidravana]

Fandom:  Call of Duty: Ghosts/Modern Warfare

Pairing:  Alejandra Emelie Lopez & Hesh Walker & Logan Walker

Length/Rating: ~1K, Teen

Tags: Found Family, Original Character, Canon-Divergence, Elias Lives, Mexican Independence Day, Showing Love, Domestic Fluff

Summary:

The Ghosts team was different though.

It took her a while to figure them out, none of them acting like any of the soldiers she had previously worked with. There was no boasting, there was no competition (except for Catan, that was fair game), their main focus was that everyone came home in one piece. They had a closer bond than other units…almost familial one might say. And that wasn’t just because of the Walkers, but all the others were like that too.

Em still wasn’t sure where she fit in.

Written for @flufftober bonus prompt: found family.  Inspired by @alypink mention of creating something for Mexican Independence Day for our Mexican OCs (drawing of Em on top left created by @alypink).  Happy Mexican Independence Day everyone!

Posted on A03 or you can keep reading below!

*

Em crept down the hallway towards the kitchen. She swore she had heard a bang, and a couple loud thumps, and thought she should check it out. Make sure no one was hurt or anything. She had considered going back to bed, as it wouldn’t be the first time that the cause of loud noises coming from one of the common areas ended up being one of the couples on the team, but they had toned it down, especially with a ‘lady’ on the base.

She mentally snorted at that thought. Between growing up with a steady rotation of kids and then entering the army as soon as she could, she was used to being around immature boys.

The Ghosts team was different though.

It took her a while to figure them out, none of them acting like any of the soldiers she had previously worked with. There was no boasting, there was no competition (except for Catan, that was fair game), their main focus was that everyone came home in one piece. They had a closer bond than other units…almost familial one might say. And that wasn’t just because of the Walkers, but all the others were like that too.

Em still wasn’t sure where she fit in.

Pausing outside of the kitchen, she put her ear by the door, hoping to hear what was going on before entering.

“Logan, you got to be more careful,” a voice hissed, something metal banging on the counter.

“It’s not my fault that you decided to walk right behind me with the flour,” Logan whispered back. “Now this kitchen looks like that time we tried baking with mom.”

Em’s ears perked up a bit at that comment, Logan and Hesh rarely spoke of their mom, Elias never.

The other voice let out a loud chuckle, which Em instantly recognized as Hesh’s. “Nah, it’s not that bad yet,” Hesh teased back.

“You two need to be a lot quieter,” a deeper pitched voice said, entering the conversation. “If you want to keep this a surprise for Em, you can’t be waking her up in the middle of the night.”

Em was so focused on identifying the voice, Keegan, she thought, that it took a moment for the rest of the sentence to catch up. A surprise? For her? She went to press her ear even more against the door, trying to hear more of their conversation but then heard footsteps coming down the hall. Taking a quick look around, she slid into a nearby supply closet, keeping the door open a crack, trying to stay out of sight.

It was Kick, carrying two stuffed, large bags. He knocked on the door with his foot, Hesh opening it with a grin. She had to stifle a laugh, the brunette was completely covered in flour, even his beanie had flour on top of it. Em could faintly hear the last part of his sentence, something about the rest of the ingredients finally arriving and then the voices got quieter, the group likely moving into the kitchen more.

Em debated announcing her presence in the kitchen for a couple minutes, but then decided not too. Nope, she’d wait and see what those four are up to.

Although she hoped that Keegan or Kick were taking photos, because the flour mess seemed like a great blackmail opportunity.

*

Em had to keep herself from blurting out that she knew there was something going on the rest of the day.

When she went by Hesh’s room to see if he wanted to go for a walk with Riley, Kick suddenly appeared and offered to go with her instead. When she tried to see if Logan was available for the shooting range, Keegan offered to show her his new sniper rifle. It definitely wasn’t a hardship, Em had been drooling over Keegan’s new weapon for the last month…from a distance of course. But if she hadn’t overheard the brothers in the kitchen that morning, she would have known something was up with Kick and Keegan’s invites. For special forces, they weren’t the best at deceiving their own.

Em strolled back to her room, wondering when the surprise was going to take place, only to be stopped by Merrick. They had a mission. One of Rorke’s second in command had been spotted in Puerto Vallarta, and they needed to try to intercept him, and now.

Running to the locker room, briefly appreciating the small space they had set aside for her to dress on her own, she pulled on her gear, and met the rest of the team in the weapons room. Em couldn’t help but notice that Logan appeared to be upset, but pulled her focus back to Merrick’s instructions. The mission was the priority.

*

Puerto Vallarta was a bust. Absolutely no sign of Rorke’s second-in-command, nor anyone else on his team. And they were stuck at a safehouse near the ocean, unable to sneak out due to all the local festivities.

Em had planted herself on the roof as soon as it got dark, admiring the fireworks from afar. While not entirely sanctioned by the Federation, Mexico still celebrated their Independence Day, and as a result, a beautiful light show was before her eyes, filled with red, white and green fireworks.

“Mind if we join you?” Hesh spoke quietly from behind her, Logan ever present at his side.

She nodded, not minding the company.

“We had planned on making, well, trying to make you a dinner, for today,” Hesh said, breaking the short period of silence. “Needless to say, it wasn’t really transportable,” he added, leaning back on his elbows.

“To be honest, I’m not sure it was even going to be edible,” Kick chirped, sticking his head out the door. “Mind if we join too? We have tequila!” Em smiled when she saw Keegan trailing behind Kick, and nodded as well to their ask.

Keegan quickly handed out shot glasses, Kick pouring them all a shot.

“To Mexico,” Hesh said, raising his shot glass.

“To Mexico!” Everyone responded, drinking their shots.

It was Logan who topped them up next, and then, rose his shot glass in the air. “And to Em.” He said quietly, but firmly, the others nodding in agreement.

Em almost lost her balance, her head whipping around to look at the younger Walker brother. This was the first time she had heard him speak. Noticing that the rest of the group were waiting on her, she raised her glass as well, unable to conceal the flood of warmth to her cheeks.

Hesh wrapped his arm around her shoulders, Em surprising herself by not flinching, but leaning back into him. “We always wanted a younger sister,” he added, squeezing her shoulder gently, Logan nodding eagerly beside him.

Em smiled, trying to communicate that she was in agreement, although she couldn’t find the words to respond.

Hopefully someday soon, she’d be able to tell them back that she had always wanted an older brother too. She never thought she’d be lucky enough to end up with two.

[letsloveimagines]

Title: Crush II

Pairing: Corpse Husband x fem!youtuber!reader

Collab with: @the-winter-sxldier-posts

Requested by: Anonymous

Request:  You HAVE to write a part 2 of crush where they meet! It would be so cuteeee!

Word Count: 1667

Warnings: a little swearing but mostly fluff

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

Part I: Here

                                                           ♦⋅☆⋅♦ Y/N pressed her left foot on the clutch pedal, turned the car key and heard the engine roaring loudly afterwards. She added the address on the GPS, looked at herself in the mirror for a moment taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focused. She put the car in first gear, and started driving from her apartment complex's private parking lot to the main road.

As her small and comfortable car drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the girl kept listening to what was on the radio. Every now and then, her stomach would churned with nervousness but she would take a deep breath and smile uncertainly to herself, trying to convince herself that everything would be okay.

Fed up with the podcast she was listening to, turned her car's Bluetooth on when she had to stop at a red traffic light, she switched to her current favorite Playlist.

Distracted by the music and humming softly accompanied by Rihanna's voice, she put the first gear back on, moving the car forward when the traffic light turned green, quickly shifting to the second and then putting on the third.

Her mind was racing, however.

Life had gone well since that specific day... since Y/N and Corpse confessed their feelings to each other. Their mutual friends that they played with knew the truth and were extremely happy for them, which was wonderful and soothing. Outside of them, no one else knew what had happened.

Corpse and Y/N talked every day, stayed on the phone every night until one of them fell asleep unfortunately, the girl always fell asleep first, and saw each other through FaceTime whenever they could.

In other words, the two could say that they were basically dating already... Even though there was never a real question. But perhaps that was about to change, for the day had finally come when they would meet physically.

A sound of receiving a phone call invaded the car and interrupted her thoughts. With a smile on her lips already knowing who was, Y/N clicked on the answer button and waited while entering a roundabout.

"Hey." That characteristic deep voice was heard.

"Hey you." She replied while looking briefly at his name written on the car screen.

"Are you on your way yet?"

"Yes, I just left the house. I'll be there In about two hours, depending on the traffic today."

Corpse cleared his throat and Y/N almost visualized him playing with his rings, and messing with his dark curly hair. "Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?"

"Well, I hope not. I’ve had my bags packed for two days, but I think I have everything that is necessary with me. If not, there is no problem really." She replied.

"This is going to... This is really going to happen isn't it?" She could hear the smile in the man's voice.

"Yes, Corpse, it is. We will finally meet in person."

"I can't wait to see you." He whispered.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm for a moment, and she knew that if she looked in the mirror she would see a dark pink tone on her skin. She bit her lower lip in an attempt to stop the huge smile. "I can't wait to give you a big hug and tell you everything face to face."

Corpse laughed deeply, his tone was warm and full of emotion. "I know... I am anxious, and I am not going to lie about it. I'm super nervous. My hands are shaking so much that I don't even know how I haven't dropped my phone yet."

"Oh, Corpse..." Y/N whispered with a heavy heart, but was attentive to the road at the intersection where she was. "There is no reason to be nervous, it's just me. It’s just us."

"I know..." He sighed softly. After a few minutes without speaking, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two and listening to the sound of the Y/N’s car motor, he continued. "Well..." Corpse cleared his throat. "I will let you concentrate on your driving. Be careful and pay attention to the road."

"I will, I’ll see you later."

"Bye."

"Bye, Corpse."

The call ended but the anxiety and nervousness did not. However, only the sound of his voice and the small conversation they had was able to make Y/N smile all the way to San Diego.

                                                          ♦⋅☆⋅♦ 

Y/N pressed the turn signal, the green arrow flashing to the right, and parked the car in an empty parking space in front of the building. The woman's neutral and almost robotic voice came from the GPS saying: You have reached your destination. Shaking in her place, the girl put on the brake and turned off the car, taking a deep breath trying to calm herself once more.

It was now or never... Should she send him a message to let him know she was already there? Should she just knock on the door? Her hands were shaking so much, and her heart was beating so hard and so fast that it almost hurt.

She sat in the driver's seat for a few more minutes, so nervous she might pass out. It is better to just go there, she thought, the longer it takes the more nervous I will become.

She took a deep breath, unbuckled her seat belt, removed the keys from the ignition and quickly got out of the car, closing the door behind her, and going to the trunk to remove the pink suitcase. When it was on the floor next to her, she closed the trunk and locked the car safely, looking at the intimidating building in front of her.

Without further ado she approached it, opened the entrance door, climbed the stairs with some difficulty to his floor, and trembling, she shyly knocked on the door with her knuckles.

That door was opened so fast that it even scared her.

They were both looking at each other almost stunned... Finally they were there, in person, just a meter away and with a spine of the door separating them. Corpse was even more beautiful in person, and Y/N found herself lost in his dark eyes for a while.

"Hi..." She said sheepishly.

Corpse looked at her examining her from head to toe as if he couldn't believe she was real. Finally he smiled so beautifully that she almost forgot to breathe. "Hi." He replied.

Y/N dragged the suitcase a little closer to her, uncertain how to proceed. She didn't have time to think, however, as Corpse seemed to get tired of the waiting and shyness between them, crossed the space between the two and took her in his arms. His body was warm against hers, extremely hot, and his embrace was loving and passionate. Y/N inhaled his attractive scent - a mixture of soap, men's perfume and something else - and Corpse laughed through her hair.

"You’re here!" He exclaimed loudly, laughing deeply, spinning in circles with her still in his arms laughing out loud like he was.

When the two were inside the apartment, Corpse released her and pulled her suitcase inside as well, closing the door to prevent any curious neighbor from trying to see what was going on.

The two of them stayed there with smiles so big on their faces that their cheeks hurt… But it was definitely a good pain.

"I don't even know what to say..." Y / N confessed, practically shaking with excitement in her place.

Corpse smiled again, taking her hand timidly and gently, caressing her skin and interlacing their fingers and pulling her closer to him. "Me neither."

They were silent just enjoying the moment, and enjoying the fact that they were there, together... that it was real. How many times had they imagined this? How many times had they dreamed of that moment?

Corpse lowered his head slightly looking into her eyes intently, but his brows furrowed as if something troubling was going through his mind. "I…"

"What is it?" Y/N questioned worriedly.

Corpse made a shy expression. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Y/N's cheeks caught fire but her smile was so big, and she was so happy that she felt like she was going to explode at any moment. "Yes! Yes, of course you can…"

The young man approached, with his hand on Y/N's waist to pull her closer and the other one climbing up her arm, her shoulder, then her neck and resting on her burning cheek, where he was caressing the hot skin. Their fresh, labored and nervous breaths mingled, closing the distance until their lips touched, finally in what felt like an explosion of fireworks or an explosion of magic. Corpse's lips were soft and warm against hers, kissing her tenderly, as he brought their bodies together even more almost as if he was afraid that she would disappear at any moment.

The kiss was a mixture of lips and tongues, longing, passion and mostly love. It ended faster than they would have liked, but they stayed in each other's arms, sharing passionate smiles.

After a moment, Corpse whispered, "I still think this is a dream, and that I'm going to wake up after the normal three fucking hours that I can barely sleep."

Y/N laughed with her heart leaping and butterflies in her belly, playing with the laces of the black sweatshirt he had worn that day, wrapping it around her fingers and looking him in the dark eyes. "Me too, I've pinched myself hundreds of times today just to make sure this was real. But if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up anymore."

"I will punch the face of anyone who tries to wake me up." Corpse joked making Y/N let out the laugh he liked so much to hear.

"I love you." She whispered dizzy with emotion.

"That’s good, because I love you too."

                                                         ♦⋅☆⋅♦

Tag List: @breathygasps​ @unicornblood4ever  @mintchip17  @jay-jay-love

[writing-in-april]

Guest Lecturer

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Reader gets Spencer riled up during class while he’s guest lecturing.

A/N: This is my 6th fic for my 750 follower celebration! This one kind of got away from me and I’ve been second guessing what I wrote all day lmao- I also imagine this as like season 9/10 Spencer. Thank you again to @spencers-dria who listens to all my rants about my writing AND gave me this idea. She’s amazing, everyone should go check out her fics.

Warnings: 18+, Established FWB relationship, Teasing in public, Spencer gets an untimely boner, Oral sex (M receiving), Unprotected sex, Degradation, Creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.6k

“One of the earliest modern theories about criminology stated that criminals couldn’t help it—they were simply born that way. Cesare Lombroso came up with the theory, which he called “The Criminal Man,” in the late 19th century. Lombroso’s theory helped to unify criminal traits and identification (while also perhaps not paying enough attention to upbringing and environment as criminal factors).”

Whenever I invited Spencer to guest lecture in the criminology course I taught I got even more excited to do my job. The way he delivered every lecture sucked me in immediately, my full attention completely on him.

Today however, was different. The lecture I had invited him to do on the early history of the subject was material I had heard millions of times before as an educator. My mind was wandering more than usual and it had specifically wandered to observing how good Dr. Reid looked today. The two of us weren’t officially together, but all the late nights we both spent at each other’s apartments were not just to ‘hang out’.

I decided to tease him a little, to put my distracted mind to good use, after all he did something similar last week. I was sitting in the back of the relatively small lecture hall, but I knew of ways I could get Spencer’s eyes on me within an instant.

He was rambling on about the flaws in early criminology theories when I started to unbutton and shuck off my blazer. It was an innocent act that any wandering eyes of my students would not question, but the way I purposefully slightly traced over the edges of my bra was sure to get Spencer’s attention.

“S-sorrry class, I lost my train of thought.” I smirked as he stumbled over his words, he was so easy. He picked the lecture back up swiftly after that, though perhaps he was rambling a bit faster than before.

I was unsatisfied, so I continued on in my pursuit to make Spencer blush. I made a show of how I started to unbutton my blouse, but only the first two, I wasn’t trying to get fired here. The top two buttons, however small, served their purpose. When unbuttoned, they showed just enough of my chest that Spencer again started stuttering. My students were rather used to his stuttering, he’d often get talking so fast that he’d trip over his words and have to start the sentence over again. Knowing that in this case, his stuttering was for a different reason made my panties start to dampen.

My final tease towards the end of the lecture was to show him how turned on I was just from teasing him. I looked to make sure none of my students were just as distracted as I was and had wandering eyes before enacting the final stage of my revenge. I shifted to the side in my seat so my legs were facing halfway into the aisle, then uncrossing them which gave Spencer a good look at my panties. Maybe he would also be able to see the wet spot that had already begun to form, I was so glad I wore a skirt today.

His cheeks were starting to flush a deep red as he tried to casually shuffle behind the podium on the other side of the small stage where he finished the last bit of his lecture. I had no doubt he moved there in an attempt to hide his tightening slacks. I smirked again, mission accomplished.

After the end of his lecture I made my way up to the stage and dispersed my students. Once they had all asked their lingering questions to me and Spencer I turned to him and asked coyly, “Could we go talk in my office, Spencer?”

—-

“Sit down.” I commanded and motioned to my desk chair at the other side of the office. Spencer immediately followed my command, sitting down obediently on the chair with his hands laced together in front of him. “Why were you so distracted today Spencer?”

The flush that had been present earlier returned to his cheeks at my words before he started to stutter out, “You were t-teasing me during the lecture, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well- you teased me last week did you not? After all, who was the poet that said- All is fair in love and war?” I asked while making my way to stand tall over where he was sitting in my chair.

“John Lyly.” He did not stutter this time when he answered my question, but the end of it rose in pitch when I started to get down on my knees. I may have been the one getting down on my knees, but there was no doubt who was the one in charge, me.

“You alright with me being a little rougher with my words today Spencer?” We had talked about rougher degradation before, he had even used harsh words on me before, though I still wanted to make sure that he was ok with it. Once he gave me the go ahead I only had one more thing to say to him before. Got started, “And, make sure to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear how loud you are for me, would we?”

He nodded fast at my command, already so desperate for me to get started. I pulled his belt out of the loops then swiftly pulling down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard length to me. I kissed my way up his length, following the already throbbing vein that ran up the side before taking him into my mouth. His hands pulled into fists as I started to bob my head vigorously, also making sure to hollow my cheeks. I then batted his hand away when it involuntarily came to rest on my hand, then grabbed both of his hands to hold them down on the seat of the chair. Then, while holding him down partially I took him as far down my throat as possible, slightly gagging on him. His hips squirmed a little and when I looked up through my lashes I could see him biting down hard on his bottom lip to contain his moans. My own wetness was making me just as desperate as him, I pulled off of him so I could have us both indulge. His hips jerked desperately towards my mouth searching out his release he so desperately wanted. At least he was silently complaining and didn’t break my no noises rule. I spoke with a bite in my tone as I stripped out of my own clothes, “Don’t complain, despite being a desperate little thing you have been good so far, I was going to let you cum inside.” I hovered my dripping pussy over his length, I needed an apology from him before I was to indulge myself.

“I’m sorry…” He whimpered. “Please, let me have you?”

“Since you seem so sorry I’ll let it slide.” I scoffed a little before allowing myself to sink down onto his length. I had to bite my own lip hard as I felt all the ridges of his cock while I slowly sunk down on him, he always filled me so perfectly. As I started to move on top of him slowly I reveled in the way he tried to move underneath me, but the way I sat above him in the desk chair had his hips pinned firmly down.

“What do you think everyone would say if they saw you underneath me? What would they say when they found out that their guest lecturer is such a little whore for their professor?” He mewled loudly at my degrading words, so loudly that I had to clamp your hand over his mouth. “I told you to be quiet, I guess since you’re incapable of following my directions all the way through, I’ll just have to keep my hand here.”

He mewled underneath my hand, not stopping himself from holding back his noises now that my hand was muffling them. I could tell he was getting close, so I sped up the rolling of my hips and increased how harshly I bounced on top of him.

“Cum with me.” I ordered just as I could feel my orgasm beginning to overtake me. Spencer happily took my orders, it only took two more thrusts for him to come apart. He greedily grabbed my hips and slammed me down all the way down onto his length, spilling himself as deep inside me as he could. I would’ve normally chastised him for his greediness, but I was too distracted by the devastating orgasm I was riding out to really care.

After we both rode out our highs I let Spencer bask in the warmth of me for a few minutes before I got up to dole out the aftercare. Aftercare was arguably my favorite part of being with Spencer. I enjoyed my post coital conversations with him immensely and he was also the best at cuddling.

“Do you think your students suspected anything?” The worry in his voice was evident as I cleaned up the evidence of our excursion.

“No I don't think so, and even if they did they wouldn’t say anything, we didn’t do anything that would get me fired.” I hummed and sat down on Spencer’s lap, enveloping him in my warmth. I ran my fingers through his hair loving the way his curls felt through my fingers, I was so glad I didn’t have any more classes I had to teach today. I spoke again, with a little more affection in my tone compared to our normal post coital bliss conversations,“You are my favorite guest lecturer.”

“I’m your favorite guest lecturer?”

I snickered a little bit before answering,“Did I never tell you? You’re actually my only one.”

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky y

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino o @safertokiss

Sub Spencer:

@thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter Eight

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU, fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 3k — Rating: G — warnings: Slight mention of past abuse, description of a panic attack. — beta: Thank you @taegularities​ and @joheunsaram​ <3

Tag List || Masterlist || Schedule

— chapter summary:

Y/N is having a hard day, who will comfort her?

— A/N: Guys, I’m so bad at summaries, if this was an exam my grades would’ve been in the negative. Anyway, welcome to the new chapter! I know I was supposed to post fallen, but somehow I ended up writing Calico instead.

I’ve had a bad case of writer’s block this week so writing this chapter was really painful, words refused to come out of my brain xD I hope you like it! You guys have been so awesome, all your feedback is really helpful. Thank you so much <3

— taglist: @lovelyseomin @anaac28 @ghostkat23 @btswdwsmhrdt @sweeneyblue1 @luvtaeha @taegularities @ aajames217 @ littlewolfieposts @nochujeonjk @hamiltrashlebo @minyoonsh @hoebii @ sunshinee0-0 @egm09 @cstobitk @splaterparty0-0 @missseoulite @mirawi-fox @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @hemmofluke @seaoffangirling @gee-nee @woopetals @secretbangtnn @vminkook-ownsme

Ch. 1  Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8.5

I made my way downstairs in search of breakfast. Ice cream, that’s what I needed. It was that kind of a day. I was tired, jet lagged, and the tension in the house had me on edge. The flight home was fairly uneventful, except for the part where Jimin had gotten scared of flying. He had asked to hold my hand, but by the time we were in the air, the hybrid was practically sitting on my lap. Not that I minded, he was hella cuddly and his purring was downright therapeutic.

When I had asked Jungkook, if it would be okay to bring the newer hybrids home, the bunny had sounded excited, but as soon as we had gotten home, the mood had suddenly shifted. It was not the welcome I was expecting.

First, Jungkook’s hair was the color of the rainbow. His beautiful black locks were turned into a colorful mess, his white bunny ears poking out of it in stark contrast. It was a riot of colors, artfully mixed together, and I felt like I was looking at rainbow pasta. Not that the bunny didn’t pull it off, he looked really cute in it, but somehow I had a raging suspicion that it hadn’t been Jungkook’s idea.

Then, there was the growling match. I had never seen Jungkook so aggressive before. The usually sweet and well behaved bunny had started growling at Jimin as soon as we’d entered the house.. That had set off a chain reaction with Namjoon and Seokjin joining in to protect their younger packmate.

On top of that, I had to go to Seoul for three days to take care of business. I had to visit the main office to attend a few meetings and sign some papers. The whole time I felt guilty about leaving the hybrids alone. I was constantly worried that somehow they’d end up fighting. By the time I came back, somehow, someway, Jason had managed to convince Jimin to dye his hair pink. He was on a warpath.

And lastly, there was the issue of a certain stuffed penguin that went missing -  my nights were sleepless without him. All in all, this had to have been one of the shittiest weeks, and it felt like I was losing my grip on reality.

I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, struggling to keep them open. Unlike Jason, who was cheerfully humming, I was not a morning person. Seokjin was busy near the stove, cooking something and by the smell wafting from the pan, I could tell that it was something delicious. I had thanked every existing god when I’d learned that the sugar glider hybrid was actually an excellent chef. The first morning, he had seen Jason cook breakfast, he’d been horrified, promptly taking over the kitchen after that. Even Jungkook had begrudgingly ate his food.

My stomach grumbled as I peered in the pan. Kimchi fried rice, delicious. Unlike Jimin and Jungkook, the two older hybrids weren’t really that affectionate. I wondered if it was because they weren’t used to me yet or if they just had a different temperament. I needed to do more research on that.

I plopped down on the chair with a groan, resting my head on the counter, hands securely wrapped around my stomach. Jason gave me an enthusiastic “good morning” and I shot him a middle finger, too tired to curse at him. The bastard chuckled.

I was debating if I should stab him with a fork when I felt hands wrapping around my waist, long fingers intertwined with mine. Jungkook bent down to nuzzle the side of my face. His muscular body pressed close. My lips curled into a small smile as I made small happy noises. My brain wasn’t awake enough to form coherent sentences yet. I needed my cup of coffee or better yet, some delicious ice cream.

Jungkook’s arms tightened around me possessively, I could feel the vibrations in his chest as he let out a low growl. I opened my eyes to see Jimin standing near the chair, looking distressed, hands balled into fists at his sides. His tail was swishing rapidly in agitation, ears flattened to his head. He was biting his lower lip, trying his best not to respond to Jungkook’s hostility.

“Bunny no,” I croaked, patting his hands, my voice thick with sleep. I lifted my head, extending a hand to Jimin. Jungkook took his cue and reluctantly let me go, keeping hold of my other hand. Jimin grabbed my hand and with his other one checked my forehead, a worried look on his face.

“Are you sick?” he asked, gnawing on his lip.

“I’m just sleepy.” He giggled at my pout and graced me with a forehead kiss. He sat down next to me, and now I was sandwiched between two hybrids who were holding my hands, glaring daggers at each other. I rested my forehead on the counter with a sigh. What was I going to do with them?

Once again I was in a dilemma. I could scold them and make them shake hands, like a couple of kids, or I could let them handle it on their own, like adults. Taking care of four hybrids was tiring. I shot a quick glance at Seokjin, who was now setting up the table; he was ignoring the two younger hybrids in front of him, but his tail was curled tightly, ears flat. It seemed as if he was tense too.

“Guys, I need breakfast,” I said, reluctantly pulling my hands from their grip. I made my way to the fridge to grab a tub of my favorite ice cream, ignoring the stares that the hybrids were giving me. I had to stop myself from pulling Jason’s ear as I passed him, not now Y/N. The revenge for ruining Jungkook’s hair had to be elaborately planned, something memorable, just like old days. Like the time when I had super glued his shirt cuffs closed, so he couldn't put his hands through the sleeves. He had started this war, I was going to finish it.

“I like your garden!” Namjoon said as he walked in through the back door. Ears perked up, an excited glint in his eyes. I didn’t even know he was out there. I wondered if he could help me with the hybrid situation, he was a pack leader after all. He had informed me about hybrid pack dynamics on the plane while I cuddled a sleepy Jimin. Apparently he was their alpha, the leader of their pack, Seokjin was second in command and Jimin was their maknae. He was excited to meet Jungkook, since he was a rabbit hybrid, they're usually very docile and friendly. Needless to say, we had both been shocked at the bunny's behavior.

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe you could help me with it?”

“Really? I would love to!”

We all moved to the seldom used dining table for breakfast - now that there were six of us, the kitchen counter was too small to occupy us all. I debated where to sit, I didn't want to take sides in the hybrid cold war, so I chose to sit at the head of the table, safe middle ground. I knew Jungkook would want to share the ice cream. I wondered if the other hybrids would too, so I had brought extra spoons, just in case.

"Seokjin, this is delicious!" Jason said as soon as he took a bite of the fried rice. "Where did you learn to cook like this?" I couldn't help but smile at the hint of envy in his voice.

"Madame hired a professional chef to teach me when she found out I liked to cook," he said shyly, ears turning pink from all the attention. It was his cutest trait: whenever someone looked at him, his ears would start to redden.

"That was nice of her," I said dryly, the distaste apparent in my tone.

"She was really nice," Namjoon said pointedly, clearly disliking my tone.

“Clair was kind, she saved us from our previous owners and gave us a home,” Jimin joined him.

"Oh?" Jason said, trying to coax some details. The three hybrids shared a quick look. Jungkook had abandoned his fried rice and was digging into my ice cream, his ears perked, listening in on the conversation.

“My first owner was a gambler, but he didn’t play poker. He and his rich friends were into blood sports. They had their own dog fighting ring. He had raised me since I was a pup, trained me to be a fighter, forced me to participate. One day, Clair saw me at a party and she wanted to buy me, she offered him so much money that he couldn’t refuse,” Namjoon finished with a sad smile. I wanted to go and hug him, but I was sure the hybrid wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

“I…” Jimin paused, looking down at his hands. “The lady who raised me, she brought me clients. She’d sell me to people… sometimes it was for a night, sometimes it was more. She used to tell me that I was her lucky charm. Clair rescued me from her, she was really kind to me.”

The spoon in my hand clattered on the table. There was a ringing in my ear. My limbs were paralyzed, heart pounding in my chest as I felt the panic rise, almost drowning in it. I couldn't get enough air, finding myself on the verge of hyperventilating while my brain went into overdrive. It wasn’t my first panic attack, I was aware of what was happening to me, I knew I had to get a hold of myself. I couldn’t lose it here, not in front of them.

“Y/N? Hey can you hear me?” I turned towards the voice, Jason’s face slowly came into focus, “are you okay?”

“Y/N?” Jungkook said, looking extremely worried. He was holding my hand like a lifeline. I slowly removed his fingers and took my hand back.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I murmured, trying to control my breathing. I got up from the chair with wobbly knees, making my way towards the door. “You guys finish up, I’ll be in my office.”

Redemption, what a joke.

It was well into the afternoon when my stomach informed me that I was hungry. I was swarmed with paperwork. I’d been busy the whole week, running errands, filling forms, trying to keep the hybrids from tearing each other apart, so the paperwork got neglected, and now I was paying for it. I briefly wondered if I should go back home and grab something to eat, but then I remembered the look on everyone’s faces this morning. I had panicked in front of them. I had been feeling restless the whole week without a certain comfort penguin. I was too embarrassed to ask the guys if they had seen it.

I groaned, leaning back in my chair. How was I going to face them? What would I tell them if they asked? A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Come in.”

It was Jungkook, holding a bowl. He tentatively entered the office, looking everywhere but at me. His ears were drooping behind him. “I brought you lunch,” he said, setting the bowl on the table.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away this morning,” I apologized, extending a hand towards him, which he took hesitantly. I pulled him in my lap and buried my face in his chest; he smelled like vanilla.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, wrapping his big hands around me.

“No,” I whispered. “But don't worry bunny, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Is it because of Jimin? Can’t we just send him away?”

That made me raise my head to look at him. “Why don’t you like him, bun?”

“He’s too clingy,” Jungkook pouted, jutting his lower lip out. It made me giggle.

“What about Namjoon and Seokjin?”

“They can stay, Seokjin hyung makes delicious food and Namjoon hyung is so cool.”

“Oh, did you talk to them?”

He shook his head no. I almost cooed at him - the poor bunny was too shy to talk to the older hybrids. “Why don’t you try making friends with Jimin? I bet you’ll like him if you got to know him better.”

He buried his face in my hair and shook his head, “...don't wanna.”

I took his hand in mine. “Won’t you do it for me?” I asked dramatically, trying to sound upset.

Jungkook leaned back to look at me, pout more pronounced. He knew exactly what I was doing. “Fine, I’ll try,” he agreed with a defeated sigh.

“Thank you, baby.” I kissed his palm in gratitude. At least he had agreed to try. “Why did you dye your hair?” I asked curiously, running my hands through his multicolored locks.

“Iwantyoutolikeme,” he said in one breath, hiding his face in my hair again.

“What?”

“I want you to like me.”

“You dyed your hair because you want me to like you?” Jungkook nodded. “Oh baby, I already like you!” I squeezed him tight, letting him know how much he meant to me. Is that what Jason had told Jimin? That I’d like him better if he dyed his hair? Jason was diabolical, I really needed to come up with a good plan to get back at him.

“Bun, next time, don’t listen to Jason.”

I was curled up on the sofa with a blanket. It was past midnight but I was wide awake and restless, staring at the ceiling. I had almost turned on the TV, but then I remembered that there were four hybrids in the house with phenomenal hearing, and I really didn’t want to wake them up. And thus, I suffered in silence.

I hadn’t seen the three new hybrids all day; they hadn’t been introduced to the shelter yet, so they stayed at home. When I came back from work, they were already in their room. They had insisted on staying in the same room, something about new places and pack bonding. I was giving Jason the cold shoulder, at least until he apologized for his crimes. And Jungkook was busy playing his new video games.

Clair had saved Jimin.

The thought rang in my head. Why hadn’t she saved me? Would things have been different, if she had stepped in? I had to admit, I was a tiny bit jealous of the panther hybrid. She had saved him.

Madame was so kind.

I was furious. How dare she? Clair had been a coward, had lived and died as one. I knew it in my soul, never in a million years would I ever forgive that woman. She didn’t deserve it.

“You’re angry,” a quiet voice said. I looked up to see a tall silhouette standing at the bottom of the stairs. Seokjin stepped out of the shadows, clutching a pillow in his hands.

“I was thinking. Can’t sleep?”

“Namjoon snores really loudly,” he complained. It made me laugh. The three of them were always attached to the hip, I had wondered if it was because they were uncomfortable here.

“You know we have plenty of spare bedrooms, you can take any of them.”

“Why are you here?”

“I can’t sleep.” I shrugged. Seokjin nodded understandingly, but he didn’t move an inch. “Do you want to sleep on the couch?”

He hesitated, looking as if he was unsure if he should accept my offer before he murmured, “can I?”

“Of course! But I think, a bed would be more comfortable,” I said, moving from the couch to the armchair. Seokjin sat down on the couch, placing his pillow near him.

“Why can’t you sleep? Is it because of what Jimin said?” he asked cautiously, ears erect and attentive.

“I have insomnia.” I shrugged, but Seokjin kept staring at me. I squirmed under his piercing gaze;  staring at me like he could see right through my bullshit. “I didn’t have a good relationship with Clair. She raised me, but she was cruel, unkind. I just… can’t fathom her as someone nice.”

“So it had nothing to do with Jimin being a prostitute?” he asked suspiciously.

“WAIT! Is that what you guys thought? Oh my god, I would never…” I was shocked. No wonder the hybrids were avoiding me like the plague. “I’m really sorry, if it seemed that way but it's not like that. I’m really happy that Clair rescued him. He deserves a good home, a family. I don’t think you’d believe me, even if I told you what my aunt was like. I’m really sorry, if I hurt you guys. But believe me when I say that this is not a place where you’ll be judged for your past.”

“You mean that.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I do.”

“You could sleep on the couch with me?” Seokjin offered sheepishly, ears turning the color of strawberries. I was surprised to see him be so direct. He had been very reserved around me till now, only talking when necessary.

“Are you sure? Won’t you be uncomfortable?” I asked, eyeing the couch. It was big enough to seat five people comfortably, but Seokjin was big too.

He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Seokjin adjusted the pillow and laid down on the sofa, leaving room for me. I stood there with my hello kitty blanket, wondering if it was okay. The sudden change in the hybrid’s demeanor was unexpected and I gave up trying to dissect the situation. I had to admit, I was feeling a bit cuddly since the loss of my penguin and I desperately needed sleep. I scooched on the sofa, covering both of us with the blanket, resting my head on his arm.

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around my waist, his tail curling around my thigh.

“I just need some sleep,” I sighed. Seokjin was like a furnace behind me. I wondered why all hybrids were this warm.

“Lies,” he said as he lightly nibbled on my ear. I gasped at the unexpected contact, my heart beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” my voice came out breathier than I had intended.

“I do, I just didn’t know how to approach you. You seem so independent, I didn’t know where I could fit in your life. The only thing I could do for Clair was look pretty. But this.... this I can do, I can comfort you. I want to be useful.”

I turned around to look at him. “Oh honey, you don’t have to be useful. You’re you and that’s enough for me. I just want you to be happy.” I lightly kissed his cheek.

“I’m going to be your comfort blanket,” Seokjin said with a smile and hugged me closer.

Previous || Next

[troubatrain]

taxi - j. markstrom

a/n: i swore on my life i started writing this and then hours went by and it was done. by the way, aside from this song i still have yet to chose any players for the rest of this series and the google form is open for suggestions (it’s linked below) but anyways, i need to start by saying this got super personal for me and this showcases some of my own experiences with my own mental illness, and not everyone experiences those things the same way and i just want to remind everyone of that before they read! also, i definitely suggest listening to the song while reading it because it just feels right.

i need to tag @danglesnipecelly​ because k wrote a matty fic and in turn i’m legally required to write a marky fic

part of my lovely little lonely series

tw: mentions of depression, mentions of post-partum depression

“...and in the backseat, when you asked me, is the sadness everlasting? i pulled you closer, looked at you and said love, I think it is...” - Taxi - The Maine

Jacob wasn’t sure when things had gotten so bad.

You were doing better, and Jacob even thought you were doing better than before. You’d been going to therapy again regularly, less of Jacob forcing you to go for his sake and more of going by your own will. You were back on your meds, but even you admitted they felt like they might have been working this time around now that you found the right fit. The adjustment to your new surroundings in Calgary seemed to be going smoothly, spending time with Annica and Elias like you weren’t constantly battling with your own demons.

But god you were.

Jacob honestly thought you were braver than anyone he’s ever known. You met a few years back, when you used to throw on a smile just to walk out the door and Jacob was just starting to make a splash in Vancouver. He was the only person who seemed to notice you in the large crowd you were who was mingling with a few of his teammates. He knew you were something special in that moment, and he’d tell you everyday until you started to believe it. What he didn’t know at the time was, you’d just gotten diagnosed with depression and you were tackling it on your own. Not a soul knew about the days you couldn’t wait to sleep because it was the only time you were able to turn your brain off. They didn’t know about the mess in your apartment that was so embarrassing but you still just couldn’t clean it. And they definitely didn’t know about the long drives where you just thought about never coming back.

Jacob didn’t know these things for a while, but when the signs became clear, he tried his hardest to understand. He came over and cleaned your apartment when you were at work, shrugging it off when you asked him what prompted him to do it. Jacob made sure you were taken care of on days he knew you weren’t able to do it yourself.

Then the east coast road trip happened.

Your relationship was new, and you hadn’t told him what was going on even though it was becoming incredibly clear that he knew. Jacob has always been patient, and you always joke it’s because he’s a goalie, but the truth was that his heart was bigger than him. You called him, teary eyed while you sat on a park bench in the middle of Vancouver and told him you couldn’t do this anymore. At first he thought you were talking about him, maybe he’d overstepped a line he shouldn’t have, but it was clear you meant life. It was just too much, and Jacob knew it was time to push talking about it.

So you did, you laid there in the bitter cold on that bench until the sun came up and talked to him about your mental illness. You talked about your therapist who you’d been seeing but you were honest about the appointments you skipped. You talked to him about the full pill bottles in your bathroom because you didn’t want to take them but you didn’t want anyone to notice you weren’t picking up prescriptions. He was calm, listening to your words and not reprimanding you on the stall in your recovery.

Everyone moves at their own pace Y/N, you can move like a turtle if you want to and I won’t tell you to hurry up and get better.

Jacob never pushed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t educate himself. He read and read and read, everything he could on how he was supposed to help

you. He took classes, he listened to talks and he’d even attended meetings with other people who were in his same position. He wanted to understand, and he did his best to. Jacob did this because he loves you, and he wanted to make sure that was never going to be something you could question.

So that brings him here, standing in your shared bathroom while he counted how many pills were left in that orange bottle and he just knew the math wasn’t going to add up. Jacob runs a large hand over his face, rubbing his temples while he spun out about how this could be his fault. Maybe he should have stayed in Vancouver. Was the change too much for you?

“Babe?” You call out, leaning against the bathroom door and looking at him sadly. Your voice was soft, it always was, like Jacob being in distress was more important than the hell he’d seen you go through.

“Have you been skipping days?” Jacob asks, never with an accusatory tone. He learned that lesson, watching you shrink at his words when he asked if you’d been in bed all day. You start to utter an apology, Jacob raising his hand at you to stop because you didn’t owe him one, “Why didn’t you call?”

Tears were welling up in your eyes, your lip quivering while you tried to find the right words. Jacob didn’t look mad, he wasn’t - he was feeling guilty. He promised you, if you called it didn’t matter if he was in the middle of a game, he’d be there as soon as he could, “You need to be with your new team-”

“Fuck my new team,” Jacob scoffs, shaking his head and opening his arms to you, “You think I’d want to spend any more time with Elias than you?”

“No, I just,” You sigh, pushing a piece of your hair back that seemed to just fall back into place, “I didn’t want to be a bother, you need to be with these guys all the time and how can you do that if you’re worried about me?”

“I can do that because I want to do it,” Jacob reminds you, pushing that same piece of hair back where it belonged, and it stuck, “I don’t feel like I have to worry about you, I want to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier not to?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jacob’s waist and pressing your head into his chest. His heartbeat was steady, he was steady.

Jacob was the most stable thing you had in your life. You couldn’t figure what you’d done to experience unconditional love like that, a person to care for you so much that they would do anything to make you happy. He calmed you on the days you needed most and he never pushed you harder than he thought you needed. Turtle speed. He always called it that, but he’d rather see you move slowly to get better than throw on another fake smile.

“My life wouldn’t be easier if you weren’t in it,” Jacob hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Do you want me to set out your meds for the week? In that little container I got you?”

You nod, making a promise to yourself to take the step in getting better. Jacob reminded you constantly, you can’t do this for him, you needed to do it for yourself - he was just helping. He was always going to help.

***

You seemed better.

Jacob swore you were actually doing okay, the little check ins he was doing was working and when he got back from his next road trip - nothing seemed wrong. You were standing across Johnny’s house, laughing along with Annica and a few other girls and Jacob knew that laugh was a real one. This was good, seeing you out laughing and smiling.

“So, when is it going to be time for you?” Annica asks, her hand running over your ring finger, “Marky has to be thinking about having a few running around soon.”

You wish it hadn’t set you off. It was a simple question anyone would ask a couple who’s been together this long.

Children was a conversation you weren’t ready for. The thought terrified you, not because you didn’t want to have them, it was the post-partum talk. You knew the risks, all of the things that could happen after and you didn’t want to stomach that. What if you weren’t enough for your kids? They didn’t ask for a mother who couldn’t get out of bed sometimes let alone take care of them, and you’d be insane to think that was a healthy way to raise a child.

Jacob’s eyes remained on you while you rushed out of the house, fiddling with your hands and shaking your head. That was your tell, and Jacob excused himself immediately, chasing you out of the house. His hands grab your cheeks, steadying you for a moment and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“She asked me when we were going to the marriage and kids thing and,” You ramble out, closing your eyes and shutting your mouth. Jacob knew where you were going with this, it was fear he had too. It was the reason there was a ring in one of his coat pockets at home that’s never been opened because he was waiting for the right time. He’d wait forever if he had to. You were the one there was never a doubt about it.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” Jacob sighs, knowing this conversation was far too heavy to be had in public, “But, you’ll never be alone, I’m never going to leave, I’m never going to pressure you into anything. When you’re ready I will be too, but I don’t care how long it takes.”

“What if it’s too late for kids?” You whisper, the fear that Jacob could tell you he’d wait forever but you’d seen him with kids, he was made to be a father.

“We can adopt, foster, whatever you want,” Jacob assures you, the idea of having children never had to be biological to him, “Chucky asked me if we were looking to adopt the other day…”

You let out a laugh, looking and pressing your lips to Jacob’s. You couldn’t thank him enough, not like he’d ever let you, but he was so good. You leaned your head on his shoulder, watching Calgary pass you by while Jacob hums to the radio next to you in the cab to get home.

“You think I’ll always be like this?” You ask, a question that could have been for either of you.

“There’s always going to be bad days, but you’re never going to be alone on them. I promise.”

“Turtle speed?”

“Turtle speed.”

[rataltouille]

GEOMETRY OF THE HOLY MOON (1 AM): A SHORT STORY

GENRE: surrealism, literary fiction.

POV & TENSE: this little space is not enough for how wild the form is so i talk about this later!!

SETTING: a small desi village, 1924-25.

TONE: dreamy, unsettling, melancholic.

THEMES: faith vs reality, how people perceive others and how they perceive themselves, grief dealt the wrong way.

AESTHETICS: the splash of water on a quiet night, thick clouds obscuring the sky, rippling the moon’s reflection on the water. the intensity of a garden in spring, the emptiness of a dying town, the suffocation from being singled out. hands grazing lightly but never fully held. a lingering sadness behind your laugh. believing in things you shouldn't believe in. putting faith on a starless sky.

STAGE: completed first draft, 4085 words.

LOGLINE: a young boy, surrounded by loss, claims to talk to god. the story follows him and his conversations with this god, all while his village spies on him as he weaves his way around the two most crucial and lonely years of his life.

LITERAL LOGLINE: on today’s news let’s talk about a small backward town that hates sad little boys who worship god, even though the place is lowkey a cult!!

CHARACTERS:

THE SUMMER BOY: he’s around thirteen, and he’s very emotionally attached to his past. he lost his family at a young age to an unstable force, so he spends his time talking to himself. he’s a quiet, demure and sweet person, always willing to help others. he’s outwardly oblivious and sees only the good in people to a point where he doesn't understand when they’re trying to do him wrong. but! considering how the story [like a lot of my others] has themes of perception vs reality, it needs to be said that he isn't all that innocent. he’s rather impulsive and rash, never afraid of hurting himself [and thus accidentally harming others].

A GOD: is he real? do we even know if he’s an actual god? a very elusive figure despite having a lot of screentime. he’s a surprisingly humanised character and arguably the one with the most empathy. he has a soft spot for the boy and the two have a deep bond which is not common for a human and a god to have. you don’t get insight to what the other gods are like, but they’re implied to exist. this story has a very messy and hazy view towards religion and godhood and their nature towards humanity, and this vague figure, a dreamlike character, is proof enough of that.

THE VILLAGE: okay so in general these people suck. the village consists of, well, the village, but they’re very fluid in the way they appear in the story? as in for the most part they appear as a collective, a unit. one character, the summer boy’s “friend”, is somewhat separate considering he’s a pretty important character. it’s very hard describing this unit of a character but essentially they’re the main antagonistic force and they hate the protagonist for seemingly no reason.

WHAT GOES DOWN:

sometime around this time, the boy chances upon meeting his “god”, this being who lives up in the clouds and whom he talks with often, except you don't know if this god is real or not. that’s one of the recurring themes of this story: what’s real and what isn’t. it’s :) a fun time :) for sure :)

essentially Things Happen And It Only Gets Weirder. i cannot even try describing what happens because it’s all very spoilery but let’s just say that this is a very sad story but not even in a “this makes me cry” manner, but rather in a “this is so fucked up wtf why”. the prose of this is very, very hazy and thick, in a manner that’s both smooth and suffocating. there’s also a lot of moon and water imagery which we love. i love the atmosphere + the setting—colonial india— as it’s a subtle but key element to the plot.

FORM:

OKAY YES be prepared for the true colours of how unhinged i am. i apologize for the form brainrot.

POV: so in this story i really said “what if it had all three of the main povs... jk jk... unless 😳😳” and then proceeded to use all three povs. you’re probably wondering, how did i do that? WHY did i do that? and my answer to that is: 🙂

the first-person pov: the summer boy narrates in first person. his pov takes up about 40% of the story, and this is where we unlock family backstory + how he feels about the various forces playing into his life. he’s an extremely unreliable narrator and he knows it; his narration oscillates between very naive and very self-aware, and this effect is pretty disconcerting. the summer boy is kind of a walking contradiction and we love that conflict.

the second-person pov: a god narrates in second person. his pov takes around 20% of the story, and his scenes all involve his conversations with the boy. his pov is extremely detached, and suspends belief because he seems awfully made up. there’s an edge to the prose in his narration, where you know that something's off, but you can’t exactly pinpoint what.

the third-person pov: the villagers narrate, either as a collective, or as an individual figure, in third person. they take up the other 40% of the story, and there are so many different people and differing opinions with this, and every time we read a third person excerpt it’s a different person, and this is mostly used to add onto the different ways in which the boy is perceived. this is also where the structural part of the form gets really wacky.

STRUCTURE: if my story isn't told in vignettes is it my story though /j. gothm is told in vignettes, each one between 50 to 500 words. the first and second person bits are normal-ish vignettes, with straightforward narration. the third person vignettes, on the other hand, are super assorted. we have a lot of epistolaric sections— there’s a letter, a folk song [which was found around the summer boy], and most of the conversation is told as just plain dialogue without tags. there’s also a phone call transcript, and finally some normal chunks of prose. what am i doing wtf.

also to add onto this the story is told non-linearly. 😀 the only thing that keeps me from going insane is the fact that there are chronological tags before most vignettes [also the manner in which they're tagged differs from pov to pov. for example a few of the third person conversations are marked just as “sunday” or “thursday”, while the summer boy’s narration is marked with the full date and year]

in all this clownery i completely forgot to mention what the tense was [the way everything else was so complicated that i forgot tense was a thing lmao] and good news!! it’s the only sane thing about this story!! it’s told fully in present tense. thank everything.

AN EXCERPT:

okay i’m once again not sharing much because this will be submitted to litmags 🧞

[The boy is scrawny as always. He carries an air of diswant— even death had rejected him when the plague killed only his grandmother— but walks like he doesn’t notice. He smiles at them, jitters, and wipes his hand across his knees. Blood comes away in thin, translucent lines. He saves it on the kerchief he keeps tucked in his shirt, careful to dirty the cloth even more. The villagers scrunch their noses in disgust; who knew how old and rotten the kerchief was, or how long it had carried blood like the unwashed sword of a warrior?]

also by the way this excerpt is in square brackets because it is a third-person interjection in a vignette that is otherwise first-person [at this point...]

SPARE THOUGHTS:

this was inspired by a conversation i had with my grandfather, where he was telling me about how people used to sing songs to the skies, as a way of devotion to a specific god. he used the [loose translation of] the english word “yearning” to refer to the emotion the singers would invoke, and that sparked the concept of a disillusioned young boy who talks to the moon as a way to please the god he’s in love with. it’s a very softly disconcerting story and once again deals with the theme of “perception vs reality” which if you know me and my work, is the theme i’m forever obsessed with.

i really like how this turned out? the atmosphere is exactly how i wanted it to be, and there’s so much i have to add on as i edit and i’m really looking forward to that. this is also the only short story i’ve written where i knew which litmag i’d love for it to be published in? like i never write things with publishing in mind, but for some reason while writing this story it occurred to me that it would be a perfect fit for this specific magazine and i love that. anyway if you’ve made it through the post till here,,,, bless you and your braincells. and that’s all for today!!