#maybe i should start using money emoji

[mariasont]

JUST THE TIP(S) - A.H

aaron learns the hard way that upping your maintenance allowance has unexpected, explicit perks. especially when you insist on showcasing your newest investment while he's stuck miles away.

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexting, nsfw imagery, exhibitionism? (in the form of pictures), references to masturbation, workplace inappropriateness, power dyanmics (boss/employee), dirty talk, sugar daddy hotch vibes wc: 1.7k request: here!

Hotch attempts to read the file in front of him again, just to keep himself busy, but it starts to resemble gibberish somewhere between the countless victim timelines and his unwavering staring contest with the phone screen. 

Nothing. Still nothing. 

It’s been, he glances down for confirmation, thirty-nine minutes since he hit send. Not exactly long enough to panic. Yet here he is, panicking, because your replies normally land instantly, punctuated with frantic emojis, a parade of exclamation points, and nonsensical crises like:

i just made toast and almost caught my sleeve on fire but it’s ok now !!!! 🤭

So, yeah. Thirty-nine minutes feels like a small eternity.

Last week, he had upped your spending limit. You murmured something vague about having a bad day. You didn’t supply any specifics, no dramatics, just an innocent observation that he instantly took as an urgent call to action.

He logged into your account and adjusted your monthly extras, expanding that little safety net you didn’t even know he color-coded as you-time on his accounting spreadsheet. 

It wasn’t even remotely about the actual money. How could it be, when you were always giving pieces of yourself away — filling his silence with your easy chatter, kissing his frown lines, leaving perfume on his pillow (and everywhere else). So if a few extra hundred dollars meant more wellness appointments or a couple frivolous purchases that could help you feel more like yourself, it was the easiest, most obvious choice in the world. 

This is what he attributed your lack of response to. You’re probably out using that buffer right now.

He doesn’t need to spiral.

But he does anyway. Because when he’s not around, you have a tendency to forget to hydrate, to neglect to eat anything remotely nutritious, to lose yourself in shiny distractions, and his mind, unfortunately, never seems to shut off where you’re concerned.

He digs the heel of his hand into his forehead, trying not to jump to worst-case scenarios. He’s not clingy. Definitely not the kind of boyfriend who sends another text after less than an hour. 

Still, he nudges his phone a bit closer, strictly precautionary.

It takes exactly fifteen more agonizing, anxiety-inducing minutes — minutes shaped like big neon question marks — before the phone finally buzzes.

You: hi bossman !! miss ur grumpy face sooooo bad it’s criminal (arrest me??) how’s the case?

He exhales through his nose. His first thought is to correct you, to say that he’s definitely not grumpy, but his fingers pause, and he erases it instead. 

He is grumpy, though he’s fairly certain it’s directly correlated with how long it’s been since he’s since your face.

Hotch: Miss you too. Case is fine. Hopefully wrapping soon. Should be home late tomorrow. What did you do today? Everything okay?

You: yay !! can’t wait to see u ! got my nails done 🩷 they’re sparkly pink and sooo cute wanna see?

He snorts once, rubbing his thumb over the edge of his phone.

Hotch: Somehow I already know exactly what they look like.

He pauses, considers, then quickly adds,

Hotch: Send them anyway.

Hotch expects something wholesome, mundane even, manicure displayed prettily around a cup of overpriced coffee (a staple for you) or maybe the steering wheel of your car. 

What he receives instead is categorically, devastatingly the antithesis of wholesome. Completely unfit for polite company. His phone nearly plummets to the floor accordingly, eyebrows already halfway to his hairline.

Your new nails, as glittery as you advertised and innocent enough in isolation, become fully obscene in context, pussy spread wide, your fingertips highlighting slick, swollen folds and a flushed, glistening clit practically begging for attention. 

Hotch has always considered you beautiful — insanely, impossibly so — but this vision of you. A vision where you’re open, soaked with a brazen sweetness that borders on indecent, surpasses beauty entirely.

It’s sinful, artful perfection crafted with the sole intent of his demise. No matter how quickly he closes his eyes, the image is now seared permanently into his brain, burnt onto his retinas in dripping pixels.

Hotch never could fathom why anyone would willingly risk sending something so compromising. It spat in the face of good judgment and flagrantly ignored every articulated piece of advice he’d ever given. He’d lectured until your eyes glazed over about internet safety, how every text you send is stored indefinitely in some obscure digital archive, potentially retrieved at the most inopportune times. 

He was certain, perhaps arrogantly so, that you’d internalized his paranoia.

How wrong he had been.

Because he now stands staring at the evidence of your rebellion, humbly acknowledging that he himself has become precisely the sort of fool he’d warned you about, happily entrapped by the irreverence of a single photograph.

The only genuine risk Aaron can currently recognize is the frankly painful strain of his cock pressing against his zipper and the fact that you’re hundreds of miles away. 

He draws in a sharp, shaky breath through gritted teeth, silently pleading with unapologetically indifferent cosmos to grant him patience. 

Or teleportation.

Hotch: Gorgeous nails, sweetheart. Clever use of your resources, though next time save me the torture and just show me in person.

You: glad u like them 😇😇 maybe consider it motivation to hurry home faster?

Hotch: Duly noted. If I close this case in record time, you’ll know exactly why.

You: i can always send additional inspiration if it helps your productivity 🥰

He doesn’t remember making the conscious decision, and frankly, he doesn’t care enough to second-guess it now, because his palm is already moving, instinctively pressing down to relieve the unbearable tension straining his trousers.

He’s halfway through typing out his surrender (a blunt, undignified Yes. Now.) when a sudden, sharp knock jerks him brusquely back into a reality that pales considerably compared to what he’s just been forced to abandon.

His thumb stalls above the send button then pockets the phone, exhaling through his nose as he smooths the front of his tie with a touch more vigor than necessary.

If he were honest, and lately honesty seems unavoidable, another second spent alone with your message would inevitably lead him to doing something highly inappropriate beneath the desk, your name hissed quietly against clenched teeth.

By the time he reaches the door, Hotch has resigned a reasonable facsimile of composure.

At least from the waist up.

He cracks the door open cautiously, standing at an awkward, stiff angle, hoping that Rossi won’t notice the disarray happening beneath his belt.

“Local PD's still caught up arguing procedural technicalities,” Rossi drawls, seemingly unaware. “Apparently, nothing moves forward without our explicit approval.”

You’ll have to wait. And so will his dick.

The so-called procedural technicalities take three hours. Three. hours. One hundred and eighty increasingly insufferable minutes drowning in bureaucratic drudgery, combing through details Hotch is positive he could recite while heavily medicated. He pinches the bridge of his nose, attempting to fend off the migraine steadily encroaching.

He’d managed the polite, dutiful thing — a succinct, thoroughly unsatisfying reply to you about responsibility and paperwork, the kind of message that made his own eyes roll at its dreariness compared to your far more compelling offer.

And now, each monotonous signature is underscored by thoughts of you, each image progressively more not-safe-for-work than the last.

He pictures your nails, painted in that damned color you loved so much, wrapping firmly around his cock, stroking with leisurely hands. How good it would feel. How you would lean closer with thay look in your eyes, lips parted, whispering filthy words that would make the tips of his ears bleed red.

He loved spoiling you, sure, but secretly, selfishly, he knew the real reward came later, when your fingertips traced up and down each vein of his length.

His daydream splinters to pieces as another officer delivers a statement so inane, Hotch considers, with alarming sincerity, the merits of repeatedly banging his head against the wall.

Before he can fully commit to a public crisis of faith in his career choices, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Stupidly, he sneaks a quick look,

You: bet that paperwork has you wound up tight. when u get home, feel free to fuck out all that frustration. im yours however u want me <3

Hotch snaps his phone off with such force he’s briefly amazed the device doesn’t shatter.

He redirects his gaze at the neat rows of law enforcement jargon before him, willing the flush spreading from his neck to his ears to retreat. He’s knows he’s past the age of blushing fits, but apparently, you delight in reminding him otherwise.

Hotch’s eyes briefly skim the room, double-checking that the rest of his team is sufficiently absorbed in their tasks.

Hotch: I sincerely hope you’re prepared to stand by that offer, he sends back, thumb tapping a bit faster. Because I fully intend to take advantage of your generosity. 

The familiar little bubbles of an incoming message appear almost immediately, punctuated seconds later by the ping of an attachment.

Hotch reopens the thread, only to be met with an image of your pretty hands cupping even prettier breasts.

Suddenly, he’s standing, brisk strides carrying him toward the hallway, a curt, excuse me tossed hastily behind him, already pressing your contact photo before the door swings fully shut behind him.

You answer on the first ring. “Hi there, handsome. Calling to check on me?”

Your voice, dripping with honeyed naivety, and the image of your tits still pulsing insistently behind his eyelids, sends an immediate rush of heat southward.

Hotch grits his teeth, resisting the temptation to flee toward the bathroom for a quick release.

“Do you really think you’re being fair to me? While I’m stuck here, of all places?”

“Fairness is subjective. Personally, I think it’s unfair you’re so far away when I clearly need your expert opinion on this manicure.”

“Expert opinions are usually best delivered in person. Very hands-on.”

Your giggle spills through the line, and Hotch is convinced it should be bottled and sold as medicine. How he managed to win the privilege of hearing it on demand is an eternal mystery.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you whisper, “is this how you typically behave at the office, or am I getting special treatment today?”

“You’re permanently on the receiving end of special treatment.”

Another giggle.

“Well, I fully intend to cash in on that privilege when you get home, and I advise your neighbors to consider getting some top-quality earplugs.”

He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to mask the fidgeting as purposeful adjustment. Unsuccessfully, of course. He can feel Morgan’s stare burning pointedly into the side of his head. Honestly, if roles were reversed, Aaron would probably be offering equally unsubtle judgment.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, lowering his voice, “you’re making it exceedingly difficult to pretend this call is work-related.”

“Fine, fine,” you say. “Go play nice with your friends and come home safely. I miss you.”

“I’ll be there as soon as humanly possible.” He inwardly rolls his eyes at his inability to maintain any credible authority with you. “Try to stay out of trouble until then.”

“No promises.” He can picture the smile on your face. “But I’ll do my best to keep your investment safe, these nails weren’t cheap, after all.”

“Careful. Because when I get home, I won’t be gentle enough to guarantee their safety.”

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[navydoves]

Smile for the camera, love!

✎ᝰ summary: too caught up in his paintings and suffering from major art block, you suggest a different type of artistic expression for rafayel, photography! yet, the new hobby backfires on him as you start to dictate what goes on his camera roll.

✎ᝰ cw: subby rafayel, you’re a pervert lmao, you’re also the dominate one, explicit but no sex, masturbation, dirty talk (just very slightly mean), eroticism, artistic expression of pleasure, sticky messes

✎ᝰ a/n: i don’t know anything about cameras so bare with me on the terminology. not proof read, excuse mistakes 😢 enjoy!

“so… what is it?”

you furrow your brows at rafayel a give him a strange look.

“it’s a camera, what do you mean what is it?”

“i mean… what am i supposed to do with it?”

you take the heavy powershot out of rafayels hands and point it at him with your eye in the viewing lens. you deftly click on the side button and take a quick picture of rafayel’s dumbfounded face before turning the camera around to show him.

“you take pictures with it.”

“i know how cameras work! i’m asking why you spent so much money buying me one, did you forget i paint and not take silly little photos?”

you gave rafayel the camera back and smile teasingly at him. it wasn’t unusual for rafayel to have art block, in fact, his art blocks spanned so debilitatingly long that you practically had a protocol for comforting him and helping him gain back inspiration.

the list went:

1. bring rafayel to the beach and play in the waves with him. the feeling of water against his skin and sand underneath his feet sometimes brought him new ideas.

2. give rafayel a makeover. seeing cosmetic shades brought about new waves of thought for what colors he should use next in his paintings.

3. dance with rafayel. your bodies moving together in symphony cleared his head of aggravating thoughts and made him want to paint in reverence of you.

4. sleep with rafayel. sometimes, he was just grumpy. he needed a nap.

but when plans one through four didn’t work this time, you found yourself at an equally frustrating spot with rafayel. you really did hate seeing him so stressed or unmotivated. he needed his spark, and like the good girlfriend you were, you were gonna help him find it.

“you’ve handled a camera before, rafa. it’s nothing new. just take a few pics here and there and maybe it’ll help you out. don’t you want to get my moneys worth for it?”

“i didn’t even ask you to spend that much…” he mutters underneath his breath. “i’ll pay you back, how much was it?”

“i don’t need—“

“how much was it?!”

⭐︎

it had been a couple days since you last had seen rafayel. whenever you couldn’t see him, you messaged or called him enough times to keep him company, but the last few days weren’t like that. there was an influx of wanderers within the last few weeks and with a few rookie hunters injured on the field, the more experienced ones were put on the job as replacement. despite your exhaustion, you knew you needed to make time for rafayel. you missed him and from the sad emojis he would send you throughout the day, you knew he missed you too.

you unlocked the door to his home with your spare key and looked around the entrance of his large estate. probably still in his studio, you assumed. you brought a small bag of baked cookies from the hunter association as an apology for being so absent. with the bag in hand you strolled through his house to the closed studio in the back.

“rafa?” you call out softly after opening the door. you look around the room and find him standing in front of an oversized canvas with buckets of untouched paint around him. those weren’t there before. he turns to you and frowns somberly before motioning eagerly for you to come in. you walk in and set down the bag of cookies on a table before moving to embrace rafayel.

“rafayel, what’re you doing? how long have you been in here?” you ask with a worried expression growing on your face.

“i’ve been trying to paint.” he simply responds. he turns to you and embraces you back while pressing a kiss to your forehead. “where have you been? i’ve missed you.”

“i told you, i had emergency hunter missions to do. have you been in here since i last saw you?”

rafayel ignores your question and purses his lips in consideration. “did your missions have to take that long? i’ve been so lonely. this canvas is mocking me, yknow? it’s plain whiteness is blinding me and i don’t know what to do.”

you sigh and pull back from the hug to look around the messy studio. “where’s the camera i gave you?”

rafayel motions to some corner in the room and grumbles, his complete focus was on the canvas before him. “somewhere over there, i think.”

you felt a pang of disappointment that the item had been discarded so easily. did he not like it that much? you head to the corner and find the camera underneath a few random silk fabrics. turning it on, you swipe through the settings and head to the gallery to look at the photos—if there were any anyway.

to your surprise, there were hundreds upon hundreds of photos saved onto the camera roll, all of rather random things. there were pictures of his furniture, little bugs on the sidewalk outside his house, nail polish organized in color order, broken glass, a street sign, it went on. the disappointment in your chest faded as you realized that rafayel really did try with this, but apparently to no avail.

oh well, you thought. he’ll get out of this slump at some point, he always did.

you sigh and point the camera up at rafayel who was still studying the empty canvas in front of him. he was deep in thought, it looked, and the camera captured every beautiful detail of his face. he was a natural.

“rafa, over here. give me a little pose.” you chuckle in hopes of lightening him up. he stilled awkwardly before letting his body relax and posing for you. you clicked a picture and pulled back the camera to see how you did. your pupils dilate at the photo, rafayel looked so effortlessly handsome before you.

you shift your perspective and kneel a little bit to take another picture of him, this one being an off-guard one. even with his attention on something else, he held a gentle beauty that made you almost revere him a little bit.

“hey, love, how about you take a break from the painting stuff and play with this camera with me?” you ask hopefully. he turns to you and frowns before shaking his head.

“i already tried taking photos and everything was pathetic to me. i don’t think it’s gonna help.” he responds.

“no, you don’t have to take any pictures. i wanna take them. this camera is actually really nice, i wanna put it to good use if you’re not using it.”

rafayel raises an eyebrow at you but resigns to your suggestion. he knew he needed a break from… doing nothing. that’s what exhausted rafayel the most, doing nothing. he preferred it when he was busy because it meant he had inspiration and passion, feelings that he basked in. but devoid of that right now, he would rather be doing anything else other than wallowing.

“what’re you gonna take pictures of?” he asks while putting his paint brush down and moving toward you. he seemed to be genuinely curious in your newfound interest.

“can i take pictures of you?” you ask.

rafayel sputters a bit and scratches the back of his head. “why… why me?! there’s plenty of fish in the sea to take pictures of.”

“well because you’re my boyfriend and i love you. don’t you want to be my muse?”

and that’s all it took for rafayel to give in. being the focus of your attention was like a blessing for him, but being your muse was a compliment worth reveling in, he would do anything to just keep your eyes on him.

you situated rafayel to the middle of the studio room where the most space was and moved back several feet to get a wider, landscape view of him. you crouch down just slightly and smile at the uneasy expression on his face.

“just relax, let loose, im not holding a gun.” you tease while adjusting the camera lens in hopes of getting a more high quality look. rafayel pouts at your words but surrenders to you and the camera in your hand. he shakes his limbs in attempts to let off some built up stress within his body and strikes a casual pose where his hand laid on his hip gently.

you snap a picture without much worry, knowing the quality and angle of the camera would do nothing to sabotage rafayel’s looks.

“you look beautiful, just keep doing that.”

rafayel blushes but your praise encourages him to continue. he nods and strikes another pose where he turned away from the camera and tilted his head back for an almost flirty look. you giggle and snap a few more pictures of his movements before looking up at him.

“am i…. doing good?” he asks rather shyly while shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“you’re doing perfect, rafa. just keep moving around and maybe i can get some candid shots.”

you look back into the camera lens and snap several more pictures in the course of a few minutes. you could tell rafayel was gradually easing up and getting more comfortable with this, even going so far as getting on the floor and blowing cheeky kisses.

a deep sense of satisfaction resonated within you from how loose and relaxed rafayel looked. this past month had been difficult for him so seeing him all playful and eager to do something so silly with you was refreshing. he felt the same.

“oh, oh. how about this?” he smiles and lays on his stomach, head propped up on his palm and legs crossed over each other in the back. you laugh and nod your head.

“giving the camera a show little i see,” you tease.

“mmm, no. i’m giving you a little show, cutie.” he responds with a giggle.

“really? a little show just for me? i have some requests then.”

“yes? what is it?”

“unbutton your shirt.”

rafayel’s eyes widen at your sudden request. embarrassment burns his ears and cheeks at the thought of you photographing him while he was showing more skin. he looked down at his simple white button up and considered what to do. did he really want to be on camera like this? he would never do this by himself, but for you? he’s too devoted to say no.

“was this all a plan against me?” he mumbles with a pout while unbuttoning his white top down to the bottom. “i can’t believe you’ve gained more silly tactics, you’re dangerous!”

you took a few shots of rafayel unbuttoning his shirt and then a few more of his bare chest once he was finished. you glanced up at him and shrugged with an amused expression growing on your face.

“i wasn’t planning anything, it just so happens to be that i really like the camera, and the camera really likes you. now, strike a pose.”

rafayel hesitantly moves around and juts out his chest toward the angle of the camera. your happy little noises urged him to continue despite the welling shyness in him. it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him in states of undress before, he was your boyfriend after all. plus, all you did was bathe was with him in your free time, anyway. but it was just something about the camera that made it different.

“yes, yes just like that. your skin looks so smooth, you’re glowing,” you purr.

“is it really that good?”

“mm, yeah. you’re quite the centerpiece.”

you snap a few more pictures of rafayel’s pliant form, a few of them focusing on the chest and above. you look up from the camera again and bite your lip. this was so erotic for you and you didn’t want to stop anytime soon.

“now… unbuckle your pants, tease the camera a little bit.”

“m...my pants?!”

“yes, your pants. art is all about identity and candidness, right? what’s more that than your body?”

rafayel’s lips widen at your frankness. you were using his beliefs on art to get him to get him to be all cheeky and provocative with you. and he… he was… he was going to listen!

he looked down at the thin belt looped around his pants and slowly undid the buckle. he could hear the soft camera shutter sounds at every movement he made, like he was some sort of celebrity on the red carpet. he slides it through his pant hoops and shoves it aside. then, he undoes the zipper of his crotch and bites his lip; he was getting dangerously close to being extremely exposed.

“continue, baby,” you whisper.

“everything?”

“everything.”

he continues by sliding his pants off of his legs slowly and then hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. he glances up at your smiling, aroused form as if to ask: this too?

you give him a signal to wait and take several camera shutters of him in his boxers. every part of his pale skin was milky and smooth on the camera lens except for this face, which was a nice shade of pink. after you were satisfied with your photo lot you motion for him to continue and he quietly listens. you were almost surprised that there was no more refusal on his end, maybe he was finding this enticing too.

he slips off his boxers and then the shirt that draped from his arms and tosses them aside. he was completely naked now, body tense and shifting on the floor in nervousness.

“you’re quite the model, you look so beautiful.”

“flattery will get you nowhere! no one can see these photos.”

“oh that’s the least of your worries, no one gets to see you like this except for me.”

you adjust the camera center to captures the enticing indent of rafayel’s V-line and then move the frame lower to his soft cock. you giggle softly to yourself as you took several pictures of his little flounder that flopped around as rafayel shifted.

finally, you decided to shift your position in the room to get different lighting and angles of your model. rafayel watched you inch around the room while continuing to take bounds of photos.

“you’re really getting into this…” he mumbled while averting his gaze from the camera.

“you should be too, you’re a natural model. just relax.”

rafayel sighs and scratches his nape. he was having a lot more fun than his face gave away, even if he was a little embarrassed at this new kind of play between you two. relenting to you for what seemed like the hundredth time today, he listened to your words and to let loose.

every movement of his showcased the curves of his lean body, the indentations of his muscles, the stretches of his smooth skin. even his hair was a natural at falling perfectly into place to frame his pouty, soft face.

“yes, perfect. so sensual.”

your low purr made a jolt of electricity run through rafayel’s body. he swallows and feels himself wanting to please you in every way, wanting to satisfy your every command. his cock starts to bounce a bit from excitement, slowly growing half hard and pink by his thigh.

“is my precious boy getting excited from all these pictures?” you jest upon seeing how his cock bobbed through the lens of the camera. you zoomed in on it and took a secret recording of how his erection grew.

“y…yes, ‘m getting a little horny…” he admits with slightly shaky voice. you grin eagerly and zoom out to capture his full body.

“show the camera just how horny you are then.”

rafayel groans softly and wraps his hand around his growing cock. he moves from ballsack to tip with every stroke, stimulating himself for his audience of one. creamy pre-cum dribbles down from his blush pink tip and coats his cock, creating an echo-y wet sound within the studio.

rafayel tilts his head back and whimpers. your camera caught every movement with either a video or snapshot, no part of your beautiful boy went un-captured.

“feel good, yeah? you like showing off?”

“mngh, yeah ~ feels so good. c...come closer if you really wanna see.”

you perk up at his invitation and move within rafayel’s circle quite swiftly. your camera angles from beneath him, catching the underside of his flushed erection. you zoom in with precision until the entire screen of the camera was just rafayel’s cock being masturbated by his hand. you groan softly at the sight but try not to get too caught up in your own aching body.

rafayel looks down and smiles weakly at you. he found it a little amusing how you had gotten so into this, but also very erotic how much you enjoyed seeing him in pleasure.

“mmm, your cock looks so delicious on screen, love. you can really see every vein on ‘ya.”

“really?” he murmurs with a lazy smile. “let me feed you then.”

you quirk an eyebrow and inch closer to rafayel. he moved his cock to the side so the camera could get a clear view of his face from a downward angle. he grinned down at the camera, at you, and then taps his cock on the lens, completely covering every photo and clip you took with his tip. you gasp softly and moan. you reminded yourself to reprimand him for dirtying your new camera later, but for now you enjoyed the sticky look on the screen.

“you’re filthy,” you grin.

“fuck yes, i am.”

rafayel steps back and gets down on his knees again. he leans forward and presses his cheek against the floor and then lifts his hips up in the air like a kitty in heat.

“get me in this angle too ~” he sings in-between his musical moans. you immediately stand and go around him to continue your paparazzi on his body. you noticed how his back arched so beautifully into the floor and how nice and plump his ass was while swaying in the air.

“you’re quite the slut, aren’t you? showing off your ass and cock to the camera like this.” you give his cheek a nice good slap causing rafayel to yelp out in pain. he reaches his free hand back and rubs his ass with care.

“h…hey no fair! i’m sensitive yknow!”

“oh i know,” you purr, “but i’ll spare you.”

you click the record button on the camera and zoom out to catch rafayel’s body amidst the messy room. he was still fondling his cock and squeezing the life out of it for the camera. the self stimulation partnered with your recordings and praise made him ache and coat the floor in even more arousal.

“you’re making a mess baby,” you remark with a grin. you zoom in on the on the clear puddle growing underneath rafayel and snicker. he was too far gone now to pay mind about how dirty was being.

“don’t care…” rafayel whimpers softly, “feels too good.”

you watch him lift his hips and curve his hand into circle as a way of creating a makeshift hole. he thrusts sloppily into his hand and groans, secretly imagining it was you who he was sinking deep into. his balls slapped against his hand with each thrust, creating loud clapping sounds that reverberated throughout the studio and was perfectly caught on video.

you kneel again so that you got the perfect angle of his bouncing cock and balls from behind. he stuffed the small opening of his fist again and again until an orgasm welled up within his navel. sensing the climax, you zoom the camera in to the tip of rafayel’s cock and watch as creamy spurts of cum squirt out of him.

“fuck fuck fuck, i’m cumming! i’m cumming, agh, fuck.” rafayel paints the floor underneath him in more of his liquids. white streaks run down the tiles and seep into a few cracks of the studio floorboards. his eyes wire shut but yours blow open at the erotic scene before you. your breathing hitches and small, gruff moans leave your lips as you hold back from pouncing on the vulnerable rafayel.

“oh, rafayel…” you whisper breathlessly. you stand and put the camera down to get a real look at him. he was on his back like a flopped fish, sweat and cum glistening on his rapidly rising and falling abdomen. he was a beauty even so overwhelmed and dazed. “…who told you to stop?”

rafayel’s eyes flutter open to meet your deceiving gentle ones. the small smile on your face, the warm look in your eye, the blush on your cheeks. he was getting that post-orgasm affection where all he wanted to do was hold you a—

“wait, huh?” rafayel’s thoughts were interrupted when he finally registered your words. you chuckle and lean over lower to stroke his flaccid cock. his body twitches harshly and his hands come down to yours to stop you.

“i asked, who told you to stop? i’m gonna need more from you, love.”

“r…right now?! i’m so tired c…can’t i have a break?!

“nope. i have meetings early in the morning with the association, meaning i’ll have to leave sooner or later. until then you’ll have to please me. you discarded this camera so you can’t blame me for using it when you won’t.”

rafayel whines loudly. he brings his forearm up to his eyes and covers them as he begins to stroke himself again. the sudden stimulation to his cock right after an orgasm makes his lithe form jolt and writhe around on the floor, but he presses on. you pull back in satisfaction and bring up the camera to your eyes to catch every moment of his second round.

“that’s a good boy, rafa. make yourself drip for me.”

“‘m trying!”

“trying what?”

rafayel whimpers. you see could how his lips quiver just like how his body did.

“t..trying to be a good boy for you…”

you smile triumphantly. your teasing words obviously had an effect on rafayel from the way his cock from hardened just your voice. more beads of pre-cum formed at his tip and made for nice lubrication for the rough fist fucking rafayel about to do. that was, until you stopped him.

“hold on now, i want to get get a good shot of the prize here,” you kneel in between rafayel’s legs right where his aching cock was and turn the camera to yourself.

“let’s take a good look of how beautiful our rafa is,” you say with a wide grin as if talking to an audience. you flip the camera back to rafayel’s cock and zoom in to better see all of the details of him.

“h…hey! this isn’t fair, you’re having too much fun!” rafayel exclaims after finally peeling his arm from his eyes and looking down at you.

“and you’re not? i know you’re enjoying this, love. the camera tells me everything.” before rafayel could continue to protest you begin your inspection with a trace of a finger down a subtle vein on his cock. your ghostly touch shuts him up immediately because he’d rather have you actually touching him and not have to beg. “the skin of rafayel’s cock is very soft,” you narrate to the camera, “and it’s also very warm, almost burning. is that right rafa? you feel hot down here?”

you tilt your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him but his forearm was back on his eyes to shield him from the overwhelming scene.

“don’t worry he’s just shy,” you continue. you bring your finger up the base of his cock and to his tip where you gently rub the pad of your finger on his small hole. “and here we have rafayel’s pretty pink cock head. it’s rather thick and has a nice, slippery texture to it. let’s give it a taste.”

you lean forward and wrap your lips around his tip and suck like a lollipop causing rafayel you cry out and rock his hips up. you still his forceful hips with your hand and quickly pop off his cock.

“i see someone is eager,” you giggle. “that was such a sweet taste, let’s see what else you have to offer.”

you move your attention and the camera down to his ballsack and cup them gently with your palm. “and these are rafa’s shiny pearls. they’re so heavy with semen, are all lumerians this potent?”

you rhetorical question is met with a small whine from rafayel. he really, really wants to move and feel more of your hands on him but he knows if he does, you’ll stop completely. his mind his foggy with feelings of lust and exhaustion. usually he has more stamina, but the energy used toward “fixing” his art block has sapped him completely before you ever could.

“b…baby, stop teasing me so m..much. i can’t take it anymore, n..need to cum…” rafayel mumbles out with a weak voice. “please, baby, please.”

“oh you’re begging to continue now? you were just protesting that you were too tired. which is it love?” he whines again and shakes his head violently.

“no! no! i…i want to! please?”

you chuckle underneath your breath and throw your hands up innocently. “you hear that guys?” you ask the camera. “our precious boy wants to make himself cum, how fun. let’s all make sure to pay attention to the show he has to offer.” you turn the camera back to rafayel and get up from where you were knelt between his legs. slowly, you back away until rafayel’s pliant body was fully in view. “cmon, show us what you got. you can’t shy away now.”

rafayel sits up with wide eyes that would almost look innocent if it wasn’t for his raging hard on and sticky body. he crawls to where you were in the room and sits on his calves right in front of the camera, acknowledging it fully for the first time. he no longer looks for you or at you for pleasure, but through the lens of the camera knowing you were behind it watching.

he wraps his fingers around his cock and gives a strong squeeze making him whimper softly. he doesn’t waste his time with teasing strokes and goes straight into rapids pumps that make an obscene noise throughout the room.

“wanna cum for you, wanna be so good for you,” rafayel drawls out between broken cries.

“yeah? wanna make a mess for me?” you mock.

“y..yeah, wanna give you my orgasm… ‘m so sensitive…”

overstimulation comes back to overwhelm rafayel’s body, causing a few stray tears and growing cries to escape rafayel. as much as he wanted to tilt his head back and screw his eyes shut, he forced himself to make direct eye contact with the camera for the sake of a show.

“tease your tip. i know how sensitive you are there.”

“o..okay..”

rafayel’s thumb flits over his cock head which sends out violent bouts of pleasure throughout his body. he cries your name out loudly through choked sobs and sniffles. not only was rafayel a natural model, but he was a natural pornstar too apparently.

“that’s it baby, you’re doing so well. gonna cum soon? you’re so overwhelmed ~”

“y..yes! gonna cum soon! j..just for you!” he wails while moving his other hand to pinch one of his nipples. if his senses weren’t overloaded before, they definitely were now. his breathing heavies loudly and before you could praise him again for being so gorgeous in this pornographic state, the first few ropes of cum spurt upwards from his cock.

“i’m cumming, i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

the thick and potent semen from his cock comes out more violently than before. rafayel’s voice was lost to pleasure as his orgasm completely takes his ability to moan or cry. he instead sits there with his back arched and eyebrows knitted upwards in complete and utter pleasure. before the load was completely finished, he manages to find some strength within his body and arches back to point his cock at the camera.

from your end, you see sticky lines of thick cum drip down the lens and coat the outside of the camera, making for a grand finale to the video. needlessly to say you were incredibly horny and (more than) decently surprised at rafayel. you couldn’t even utter words so instead you decide to hit stop on the recording and put the camera down. couldn’t use it anyway with all that creamy nonsense on it.

rafayel’s eyes flit back into his head as his body gives out and falls back onto the floor. he whines and cries under his breath as the remnants of his high still tormented him within his shrinking cock. you take pity on your sweet boyfriend and his willingness to please you. now it was time for you to take care of him.

“you okay, my love?” you ask after kneeling down to the floor and cupping his face. he looked so dazed but managed to nod at you.

“‘m fine… been through worse… like waiting those eight hundred years for you…”

“what?”

“what?”

you laugh softly and quirk an eyebrow at his antics.

“i think all that pleasure has gotten to your head. are you sure you’re okay though? i can run you a bath and take care of those muscles before i leave for the night.”

rafayel frowns a bit, he forgot you had to leave. too tired to complain about it, he accepts it for once and turns his frown into a gentle smile. his eyes open to full attention and focus on you from the floor. there was that affectionate again. it was seeping into his heart and making him want to pull you into a day’s long cuddle.

you notice how endearing rafayel looked like this— dazed in pleasure and vulnerable in front of you—and you have just one more urge to fulfill. you reach over to the the yet again, discarded camera and try to wipe some of the still dripping cum from its lens. you stand directly over rafayel’s body with it and giggle softly as you put it up to your eye. the lens was foggy from remanent stickiness, but you thought it added more story to the gallery of photos behind it.

“smile for the camera, love!”

⭐︎

yet another few days pass since you last saw rafayel. you replayed many moments of your erotic night together from memory because you left the camera with rafayel. it was still his gift, after all. but today was the day you agreed to see him again because you has another bag of apology cookies up your sleeve and a promise to not be busy anytime soon.

you unlock the house door, stroll through his common rooms, and head to the back where his studio was. still in here, you presume.

you open the door and look around to see rafayel standing in front of an oversized canvas. deja vu.

except, at a closer look, you see that the canvas had actual color on it as opposed to the blank white that had been there last time. you place the bag down on a table and walk up to rafayel. he doesn’t seem notice you until you were right up next to him, and when he does, he jumps into your arms.

“cutie! you’re finally here! i’ve missed you so much! you can’t keep disappearing and trying to buy me off with food, yknow? anyway, i need to thank you. look at this!” he gestures to the large canvas covered in blue, pink, and purple, delicately painted so that the darkest values outlines a male form drowning within the mixture of colors. a large smile grows on your lips that matches the same gleeful one on rafayel’s face.

“i can paint! i can paint again! thank you!” he cheers before going back in for another strong embrace. you squeal in surprise but giggle right alongside him.

“yes! you can paint! why are you thanking me, though?”

“for the camera!”

“the camera? it actually helped?” you ask in disbelief while pulling back from the hug.

“yes! i looked through all of the photos and videos you took the few days ago and it inspired me to paint what i was feeling. the documentation of everything really helped me relive that moment and put it into paints.”

your mouth goes a little bit agape but internally you couldn’t feel any happier for rafayel. the excitement on his face was worth every penny you paid for the camera (even if he did pay you back). you look back at the canvas and smile fondly at the distant form resembling rafayel.

5. make homemade porn with rafayel. it helps him channel his pleasure and depict it beautifully onto a canvas.

a/n: the entire time i was writing this it went:

“we’re so back guys 📈…. it’s so over man 📉”

[accio-victuuri]

now it’s time for me to scream and cry about the lrlg post. it’s been so long! and the fact that it came to us in the new year, welcoming 2025 with good vibes! this is the perfect start. even if the conversations are random ( as they usually are ), it’s so comforting to read about. even if just for the sake of fiction. this is fitting cause earlier today, there was a screenshot going around of another celebrity’s assistant and she was using a bjyx related merch (nye show). so it’s either this person is a bxg or they know someone who is and they borrowed the bag. so yeah. we may have people who see and hear things. that was the point of the fake rumors from the start, those who know stuff can share.

which leads us to lrlg. my fave tho is the visibility of yibo’s staff. some are even assigning who’s who based on the nye photo that was shared. this is his inner circle and per the convos, they are also close to xz. to those who are confused, in the original text his staff are assigned different emojis. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

we have talked before about how important it is that their staff is coordinated. i really like how wyb is able to just leave xz with them and he can hold his own. it’s crucial that they can be open to a certain group of people and just be themselves.

• the part about accessories and reimbursement & the latest model didn’t make sense to me when i first read it. but then fans explained it as WYB gave each staff member a latest top-end iPhone (should be 16) and asked them to choose the accessories themselves and all the parts would be reimbursed. wow. such a generous boss! i mean, that’s usual for WYB. can i please apply? lol.

• this part. it’s so sweet i wanna slap them! how xz wouldn’t eat without wyb. it’s such a normal thing to do, but so important for them.

🟢 "Why aren't you eating yet?"

🔴 "It's only five minutes, you should be back in fifteen minutes."

and how yibo was like, why don’t you eat and he joked that it’s different when you are with your family member.

• how he was calling yibo dog because when he fed him his “gloves” were bitten through. how he also called him a pig ( which has it’s own lore ) . lol. they really love to clown each other. but yibo is his puppy tho, gouzaizai! and the fact that xz is feeding him. it’s not enough that xz will wait for him to eat together. he will also hand feed wang yibo. i mean. i hate it here. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

• there was mention of puppy printed pants and some are saying it could be this. well, let’s see who will wear something similar first.

• wyb asking if they ordered fruits, most likely for xz. he knows that xz loves it! he is so attentive!

• i was very interested in what they were eating. a fan said it’s most likely beijing roast duck. and it makes sense why xz had to wash his hands, why he was wrapping the food and feeding it to yibo. making sure they eat well is still a top priority on both sides.

• at the start of the convo, wyb was talking about buying gold jewelry for xz and it’s funny cause fans are saying it’s a fitting gift. we all know xz is the god of money and he is someone that seems to be very aware of finances. so the gift is not only in a romantic sense, but also practical. wyb knows this and it’s why he chose that.

i saw someone say it may be this. the gold is real.

• the part when wyb’s staff said xz is his (wyb’s) boss 😂😂😂😂 it reminded us of that cpn, when wyb’s bodyguards are looking and guarding xz instead of him.

• this ⬇️⬇️⬇️

🟢 "I'll pick you up in the afternoon"

🔴 "No need to worry about what time I'll be back"

🟢 "Call me when you're done"

yibo is so boyfriend i wanna cry. this is such a normal thing to do considering they have all the resources. but yibo still wants to do it himself. yibo the driver is here!!!!!

that’s all. maybe i missed some stuff and we may understand some of these better as the days go by. depending on the other clues that will be available to us in the future. again, you don’t need to believe any of this. don’t take it too seriously. bjyxszd. 💕

[666writingcafe]

Feeling a Bit Tense?

A (Mildly NSFW) Text Conversation Between Barbatos and MC

Barbatos: *waving emoji*

MC: *gif of someone waving tiredly*

Barbatos: Rough day?

MC: *gif of someone shrugging*

Barbatos: Do you need or want to talk about it?

MC: Should I?

Barbatos: If it will make you feel better, yes.

MC: *keeps typing and erasing messages*

Barbatos: Does this have anything to do with Solomon? If he's been messing with you, I'll be more than happy to talk to him for you.

MC: No need.

Barbatos: Do you genuinely feel that way, or are you just trying to get me to back off?

MC: Regarding this particular issue, he hasn't done anything wrong.

Barbatos: Okay.

Barbatos: So, what sort of "issue" are you dealing with?

MC: I'm not sure how to put it delicately.

Barbatos: Don't worry about sounding prim and proper. Just tell me what's on your mind.

MC: Here goes nothing...

MC: I'd like to get laid.

Barbatos: I see.

Barbatos: And you're worried about doing it with someone from this timeline, aren't you?

MC: I mean...wouldn't that cause a paradox?

Barbatos: Isn't it a bit late for you to start worrying about paradoxes, considering that three of us know your true identity?

MC: You, Diavolo, and/or Thirteen would have figured it out one way or another. We just figured it would be easier to be open about it with you guys than risk ending up dead or in prison.

Barbatos: Fair point.

Barbatos: Anyway, as long as you don't produce something that's not there in your timeline, you should be good to proceed.

MC: Except I don't trust many people here.

Barbatos: Understandable. I feel the same way.

MC: This is probably a pointless question, but have any advice?

Barbatos: I would say take care of it yourself, but that's not going to help much, is it?

MC: I mean, it's taken the edge off, but nothing I use is going to be quite the same as having another living, breathing person with me.

Barbatos: So you're looking for a physical connection.

MC: Kind of?

Barbatos: My next piece of advice would be to arrange a meeting with an escort, but as you've already stated, you're rather wary of most people here, and personally I don't like dealing with them. They ask for WAY too much when they realize that they're servicing the Young Master, and that doesn't just apply to money.

MC: *whistling crow sticker*

Barbatos: Maybe ask one of the brothers?

MC: *no sticker*

MC: We're not NEARLY that close for me to successfully get away with that.

Barbatos: Is there anyone else who lives here that you had some sort of a relationship with in your timeline?

MC: Yes, but they're out of the question.

Barbatos: Not necessarily.

MC: Trust me.

Barbatos: They're members of royalty, aren't they?

MC: *eyes emoji*

Barbatos: Interesting.

MC: Good or bad?

Barbatos: Not bad. Actually mildly impressed.

MC: Thanks?

Barbatos: So...

MC: *questioning sticker*

Barbatos: If you will allow me to be blunt for a moment, how would you like me to fuck you?

MC: *gif of someone spitting out water*

Barbatos: Simply being practical.

Barbatos: I'm not sending you back to Solomon.

Barbatos: The prince is too busy to help with this, sadly.

Barbatos: And I don't trust any of the other royals to not harm you. I want you to be able to return to your timeline in one piece.

Barbatos: Unless you don't trust me?

MC: It's not that.

Barbatos: Then what is it?

MC: In my timeline, I was your first.

Barbatos: Then that's perfect. We'll still keep that part of it accurate. It'd just happen sooner, which isn't a super big deal.

MC: If I didn't know better, I'd think this was your intention all along.

Barbatos: What, to get in bed with you?

MC: *nodding sticker*

Barbatos: I'd be lying if I told you that hasn't crossed my mind once or twice during your stay here so far.

MC: *gif of someone saying 'i knew it'*

Barbatos: What can I say? Like it or not, I'm a creature of desire.

Barbatos: Also...

Barbatos: Your scent has given you away a couple of times, so I figured that I'd had a fair shot if I ever DID want to indulge.

MC: *blushing emoji*

Barbatos: We'll talk more when you return to the castle.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch

[quizlythenerd]

Hello! I’m Quizly/Epic, and this is my main blog!

- Any/All pronouns, aroacespec

- I’m more than likely gonna be posting Undertale Multiverse and Hollow Knight things ‘cause special interest / hyperfixation go brrrrrr

- I am a multishipper [as in i ship many things at once and am accepting of most ships] and a sansshipper, if that makes you uncomfy then you don’t have to interact with me [friendly reminder that NOTHING is forcing you to interact with posts you don’t like !! just keep scrolling, bruh]

- Taken by @lemonlimecordial , @the-sleepless , and @residentrodents ! <3

- MINOR ALERT I AM UNDER 18 FOLKS PLEASE DONT BE WEIRD !!!

- I use tonetags for easier reading, I mainly use the abbreviated versions for dms but i’ll mostly use brackets [] with the full term for actual posts!

- Asks and DMs are open !! [i will delete asks and dms trying to guilt trip me for money, i am not risking keeping scammers in my inbox and dms. if you truly need money, you should go to someone else who can help. my blog is not the place for your ask [i am a jobless minor with mainly jobless minors following me]. i don’t want to be rude, but this is a boundary i am setting. please be respectful.]

- I AM AN EPIC SANS KINNIE AND WILL TALK ABOUT HIM A LOT so some content/trigger warnings for my blog are: Medical Malpractice, Suicide, Torture, Abuse, and SA. I will try to keep things cw/tw’ed but i may forget sometimes !!

- ASK GAMES YOU MAY PARTICIPATE IN: nosy anons, emoji ask game

My Tags: #quiz art, #quizly rambles, #quiz asks, #moot, #quizlycomplains

Please maybe go check out the utmv au comic me and sleepless have been working on and maybe ask something so we can actually start updating it again - SNAU

There’s also this post I personally made about snau so you can see it and so I don’t lose it

all of my epic shenanigans

[pinehutch]

When I say that I want to be evil

what I mean is I want to be powerful. What I mean is I want to be free.

Some weeks ago I spent more money than I should have on my first ever (ever!) two-piece swimsuit. You have to understand that as a child I was told I was fat, and as a teen I was told I was fat, and as an adult I've always been fat*, and you can't read your way out of the shame caused not strictly by the word but by its connotations.

(I know, because I've tried. I have been trying for almost twenty years. Looking for plus-sized fashion brought me to the digital 'fatosphere.' It made me a better person as I learned about another dimension of intersectionality and about power and oppression. It made me feel like I could wear clothing that I liked. It made me more informed about the diet and wellness industry. It's been over 20 years since I first read a critique of the BMI; it's been almost as long since I started wondering why gros/se in my close-second language didn't have the same (haha) weight to it as fat does, in my first.)

At the tail end of June, days long and scorching, I stepped into a two-piece swimsuit with a deep-v neckline and my whole midsection exposed and I spent the day in full view of dozens (hundreds?) of strangers. Cold, cold water on the joints; warm, soft pools for the evening. My hair got bigger and bigger. My neck and chest sunburned. My midriff stayed comically, blindingly pale, and everything else? It was lovely; it was fine. I rarely thought about my body, unless it was 'this feels nice' or 'my swimsuit is so pretty.' I took a selfie, even, though I deleted it. I was worried that posting it would count as thirst-trapping; shame has cored out and replaced so much of me. It was a good pic, though, and I wish I'd kept it.

What was true of me that day: I was a quite tall, very fat femme person whose feet swell with arthritis and whose hair takes up the entire frame and who's had cellulite since grade eight. What else was true: many people complimented my swimsuit. I looked out across the valleys and the mountains from the top of my almost-six-feet. I let my shoulders roll back and smiled at the sight of my bare skin gone blue-wavering-dappled beneath the surface. I stood tall. I made eye contact. I enjoyed delightful company, and let that enjoyment extend to the simple pleasure of having a body that felt fairly good, in garments I had chosen for the joy of it.

You can't read your way out of shame; it's only part of the equation. I didn't go swimming the next day with my family members, because I didn't want to feel them looking at my body and being disappointed that What A Beautiful Girl turned out like I did (though: if What A Beautiful Girl then why You Need To Watch What You Eat?). But for an entire day I felt like anyone else, gentle enough, good enough, in my skin.

It would have been good for me to swim with my family that weekend, because I'm finding that - as in all things - the practice is important. You can't read your way out of shame, not entirely, but in working with and through it there's maybe a chance to rewrite our stories.

There's a fallacy that I think a lot of us fall into, when we're trying to counter and challenge fatphobia, both culturally and in ourselves. It's the fallacy of the Good Fat. It's why I want to tell you about how two-pieces are maybe a better swimwear choice for me because of the drastic difference between my tits and hips vs my waist. It's why I wanted to post that selfie, so people could shoutycaps and fire emoji me on twitter. It's why I want to craft this post into a narrative where spending a single day mostly-unburdened by body shame has led to a hot girl summer, and I'm walking for miles every day and going to the pool four times a week. (I'm not. I still have a day job, and writing to do, and a physical disability, and the ol' depression. I'm more active than I was three months ago, and working to improve that, but still. It's not a lot.)

It is, simply, the same lie as we tell ourselves along so many different axes of marginalization: that as long as we are exceptional in a way equal and opposite to our marginalization, we'll be fine. It's the model that says you earn the right to exist fat and unashamed by being healthy, by being active, by being hot. Sorry my hip is squished against yours on the airplane; at least I've got a nice face and good hair and am well-dressed, wanna admire my hip-to-waist ratio about it?

There's no such thing as a Good Fat because we live in an inherently fatphobic world. I mean: airplane seats are too small for anyone average sized. I mean: 20 years ago I was a size 16/18 and couldn't fit into the newer lecture hall seats at my university without a lot of stress and embarrassment. I mean: I can't buy a compression sleeve for my arthritic joints at the drug store. If I ever needed to take Plan B, it might not work because I weigh (as do most adults of my acquaintance) more than 165lbs. You cannot be hot enough or active enough or well-dressed enough to escape from this; the only option is to be Not Fat.

But why on earth would we want to accept this? We know the system is fucked up and evil, and so: we want to be evil. Just a little bit, just enough. We want to be hot villains. We want to serve cunt and to be cunts. We want to nailcare emoji, fire emoji, crown emoji, and we want to take no prisoners unless it's between our thick thick thighs. Sit on their face; if they die, they die. It's fun and sexy, in a world where "everything is sex, except sex, which is power" to dig in and grab handfuls of what looks like empowerment, fuck the rest of it, get what makes you feel best.

It's a mirage; freedom doesn't live there.

Because of course fat people are hot. Fat bodies are desirable. Fat bodies are strong, sometimes, and athletic, sometimes, and powerful in whatever way you'd like to read that. That's true no matter what.

And yet (this will hurt) fat bodies are still (I'm sorry, I'm so sorry) not good enough. If the system is the problem, your individual empowerment is not the (whole) solution.

When I say that I want to be evil, what I mean is I want to be free. I want the strange rare days I've known I was desirable because I was desired, specifically and individually. I want the days where I grant myself dignity. I want the day where I lived peacefully in my mostly-naked body around hundreds of strangers, and went to bed happy.

Reading is input, it's taking in. I can't read my way all the way out of fatphobia, out of body shame because that's like trying to put out a forest fire 2000km away by throwing baking soda on your stove element. (Not harmful, but insufficient and misdirected.) It has been so helpful to know that other people wrestle with all of this, in ways that are more intelligent and expert than mine; it doesn't change material reality, though.

It's not the shame that's the problem, but where it comes from. It's not my internalized fatphobia or low self-worth or lack of body confidence that keeps people from life-saving medical care because their doctors were obsessed with their weight instead of their symptoms. My soft abdomen has never shamed a stranger on the internet, my calves (never in tall boots) haven't forced someone to buy a second seat.

Maybe it's time that I redefine what I mean when I say I want to be evil. I want to be a hot villain that was justified in their takedown of the status quo. I want to put a crown on every head. I want these thick thighs under me as I pull you into my lap and love you, and to use those fire emojis to make room for new growth.

I want us all at the pool together, celebrating as the sun sets.

*I'm using "fat" to here mean something like "size 16 US women's or larger," but there's no good definition

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

I can't get my emojis to work, but Joshua Whitmore and happiness?

That Familiar Smell of Fresh Paint - Joshua Whitmore/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N.

Wordcount: 2560

Summary: Happiness isn't a familiar feeling to him anymore, but it's the little things is his new life with you that makes him start to remember how it feels.

Notes: I love writing him so much that I'm already looking forward to all the new ideas that came to me as I was working on this QwQ

It was hard at first, but you both expected that after your big, dramatic return from New York. As soon as you'd boarded the plane the two of you knew that things wouldn't be the same now that he'd been found, and sure enough once word got out that you'd not only crashed his big party to steal him back but also returned to Detroit, one Ms. Jorie Chastain was back at your door to properly ask for an interview this time.

Turns out she'd been quite reprimanded by her superiors for her previous ‘interview,’ and you were more than happy to accept her apology money and then have Joshua slam the door in her face as thanks for tearing the painting that was now framed on your wall.

It'd been quite the sum to make up for nearly ruining both your lives, and you put it away to go towards that adorable little property you'd had your eye on since it'd gone on sale. You drove past it the next day with him to test the waters, see if he'd want to start over fresh with you there, just casually mentioning the for sale sign and how you should maybe check it out, get back to animosity since everyone now knew where you lived. He'd been silent, his foot propped on your dashboard and his sketchbook placed against his leg while he drew what he saw, and he'd barely paid the property any attention at all when he caught sight of an overgrown park crawling with nature and freedom.

You try again a couple weeks later when you make the drive to the art store with him to give his legs a rest; he was so used to walking everywhere he'd forgotten completely how to drive, and at first he'd gone on a very long rant about how cars were polluting the environment and how walking was better for the body and mind, although for once he tossed in a little compliment as he commended you for always walking to work even though you did own a vehicle. 

Now, many rides later, he’s relaxed and sitting in the passenger seat while feeling the breeze, completely fine with cars for the moment while you drive, and you point out the for sale sign again as you approach.

‘I see it still hasn't sold, it's a decent property, I wonder what's wrong with it?’ you joke with many glances thrown his way, and this time he did look as he hums to himself.

‘Based on the state of the yard, broken windows on the side of the house, as well as that concerning dent in the roof I'd say it's a wreck inside, owners are probably old and finally selling because they can't afford to keep it in the family anymore, that one won't be housing anyone until the whole thing needs to be gutted,’ he figures before taking his sketchbook back out to work on his park sketch, he only seemed to work on it when you drove together.

‘Oh, how'd you-?’

‘Been in a lot of places like it, I can usually tell from the outside what the inside will be like by now,’ he says without looking up, and for a moment you'd actually forgotten that he'd been on the road the past seven years, not homeless but traveling, of course he'd had to have learned about all the safe and empty places to stay, what would be a risk and what would be a temporary paradise. ‘You're quiet, you wanted that house, didn't you?’

‘What? No, of course not, I've already got a decent duplex, you're not gunna find a better bathroom for that cheap,’ you brush him off nervously, but he doesn’t buy it as he glances at you and keeps drawing. ‘By the way, I've been wanting to ask since I don't see you on my floor, but how's the job going?’

‘Working to survive but not to be happy, it's a hard question to ask, isn't it?’ he begins, and you give him a look until he chuckles. ‘It's fine, been a while since I've been around that many people, and I know the only things they know about me were found on the internet and in that woman's news segment, but I'd prefer it if I was a no one to them again, just so they'd stop staring when I come around.’ He doesn't draw as he speaks this time, his eyes staring out the window as the neighbourhood turned into downtown, the art store in sight.

‘We could always see if you could work from home, I hear that's been a big thing in the city?’ you suggest, but the thought of that makes him visibly recoil.

‘Working at a desk in the comfort of my own home? Taking the precious hours we have in a day to get up, sit in front of those machines and just work until I can't tell what's the job and what's my personal life anymore? That sounds worse than being forced to paint, don't ever say that to me again,’ he grumbles as he hunches up and places his shoes on your dash again. You chuckle softly at the sight, he always knew what he wanted and what he didn't like, and you certainly can't imagine him being able to work on anything other than his paintings while he was home.

‘Sorry, I should've known better,’ you tease, and he just continues grumbling all the way to the parking lot. The art store is more well stocked now that everyone knew he was here, the owner ordering all sorts of professional things since he knew that Joshua would be back in due time, and sure enough he always was to replenish his supplies. It was nice to not be limited to just the children's supplies now, he’s certainly very happy about it as he races for the paints and sees that they were higher quality than last time, and the new brushes he'd suggested have come in as well, the display announcing their newness to the lineup. 

He has his own money again, after the great loss to the show you'd ruined he'd ended up having to pay out of pocket for it all as compensation, but once that was settled and he was finally set free from his contract he was also free to claim the rest of what the bank had been holding for him for almost a decade now that he wasn't legally dead. 

His checking account had been pretty much cleaned, but he'd also had a secret savings account that had been highly suggested by his then girlfriend, since she did care about his future until he'd grown too numb to remember how to love her back anymore. As such, since Mr. Eldred didn't know about it and focused purely on what he had left in his checking, the interest had accumulated into a new mini fortune that he was now slowly blowing through as he spoiled himself with new paints and proper canvases and all the things a starving artist on the streets wouldn't be able to get.

It was funny how fast his views on money had changed when he was able to toss everything onto the counter and pay for it without putting you out.

Now that he has a paycheck again he mostly sticks to using that, the two of you recently having joined your accounts so you could help contribute to his savings. It was a very big step in your relationship, once you discussed many times as you helped him set up an online account so he could see where his paychecks were going without a trip to the bank, but it felt right after your big city rescue. Knowing that he can get whatever he wants, you again wait patiently as he checks out everything and repeatedly goes over his mental inventory of what he still had back home. 

You hang around the register so you won't bother him, he would likely be ignoring you anyway if he wasn't giving you a history lesson about everything he was looking at, so you prefer this option since it gets you home faster. You exchange a friendly nod with the owner, he was very familiar with the both of you now, and get comfy leaning against the counter until he’s done, his voice drifting over the aisles as he openly talks to himself since you weren't there to listen.

‘He sees like a nice guy,’ the owner observes as he also listens, and you smile fondly in his general direction when he sees something he doesn't like and starts talking a bit too loudly about how kids could never flourish with brushes that break that easily and were too cheap to actually hold the paint they were using.

‘He is,’ you reply honestly even as he approaches with an armful of said brushes and sets them down with the intention to have them be removed from the inventory, which of course they wouldn't be. ‘He's a bit insufferable at times, but… he's genuine, and honest, and passionate, and I've never met anyone like him.’ He returns with more as well as the things he actually wants to pay for before disappearing again. ‘I'm sorry about this, I'll put it all back when he goes to the canvases.’

‘It's no problem, it's pretty slow in here when the kids don't have any big art projects going on, gives me something to do,’ the man laughs, and Joshua is very pleased when he finally notices the extra large canvases that were now in stock even though you know it'll be a pain to fit them into the backseat. 

You continue your light conversation with him while Joshua finishes up, and in his excitement the final bill is a bit more than usual, but he’s happy to pay for it all as he hands over his card and punches in the pin. All three of you have to carry everything to your car once the transaction is complete, thankfully he only indulged in one giant canvas this time since he was running out of wall space in his studio, and the rest is tossed into the trunk with great excitement.

‘Thank you for getting these in, and you have my list of more appropriate supplies for the kids’ section, right?’ he asks as you get into the car, Joshua hovering around the door and refusing to let the owner go without his very important suggestions being taken into consideration.

‘I'll see how well the new stuff sells before I order more stock,’ he vows as he backs up towards the door, Joshua ready to walk back in and give him a quick lesson on why he should also really get rid of some other things so he could pay more attention to his rather lacking informational book selection when you lean across the seats, grab him by the back of the hoodie, and pull him in with you. He relents and shuts the door, now preferring to see how this stuff compares to what they provided in his month back in New York since they'd gone for price over preparation, which of course he could tell the difference between. 

You have to pass by the house again to get home, but you can only glance at it longingly this time at the thought of moving him into another rundown place; you don’t want that for him, he deserved someplace open and clean after waking up in empty houses for so long. He sees your look this time and bunches up again to draw, but this time it isn't to work on his park you discover as you pull into your driveway, it’s actually a rough blueprint of how to fix up what he saw on the outside.

‘Need to get in, see how bad it is or if I’m wrong,’ he mutters as he hands the book over after everything is brought in, and your heart pounds a little harder when you read his notes crammed beside the shapes.

‘It’s just a house, we can look together for something better,’ you tell him as you hand it back and head for your laptop, but he just shakes his head and rests his arms over your shoulders, his chin on the top of your head while you sit at the table.

‘Told you I’m good with my hands, did a lot of construction work, if we buy it fast then we could get it cleaned up before it gets worse,’ he says softly, and you realize that he was doing this because it was something you wanted for once, his final hurdle in him getting used to not only living with but also loving someone again.

‘I don’t want you to have to stay in another busted up old house,’ you reply without looking up, your hands still on the keyboard and touchpad as you hover over the real estate site you’d bookmarked weeks ago. ‘This place is fine, we don’t need anything bigger or better, it’s… you deserve better than more broken ceilings and cracked paint.’

He kisses your head then, he was still getting used to giving you affection when he felt like sharing it even though you’d already slept together and had been together for months, but just knowing that he was the one to kiss you this time is enough to make your heart soar. ‘You know I don’t mind the smell of fresh paint, that’s my entire life,’ he reminds you quietly, his lips moving against your hair and his chin digging into your scalp as he speaks, and you free yourself to turn in your chair and stare up at him.

‘So you really wanna do this? You wanna buy a house with me? I’ll have to start driving to work again,’ you gape up at him, and he doesn’t seem too happy about you driving so much, but his expression is still very soft as he leans down even more to rest his chin on your shoulder along with his arm.

‘It’s closer to the art store, we can start walking there together,’ is his reasoning, and you press your own kiss to his cheek before going to the house’s page and checking out the uploaded images together. It’s better than he expected, the damage is mostly on the outside, but he was right about the older owners wanting to sell their family home since they now had a slightly smaller place closer to their grandchildren and couldn’t afford to keep both. He points out the easy fixes, stuff he’d learned how to do years ago, and the second bedroom is the perfect size for an even bigger studio; both bedrooms lead out into the backyard, a proper backyard this time where there’s room for a garden, and a birdbath is already in place and sporting a bluebird in the photo on the screen.

You take it as a sign, you both do, and he decides to save his giant canvas for later as you call up the realtor and set up an appointment to tour the property, Joshua just watching you talk with a content smile on his face all the while.

[amethystina]

Hello !!! I hope u r well and recovering 💘

Fir the ask game: 🤡❌️👀

Unfortunately, things are still pretty rough but I'm hanging in there :)

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

I'm not sure if there is such a line, to be honest. Mainly because most of the things I write aren't all that funny, but also because it takes a lot for me to laugh when it's my own writing. Because I already know the punchline before the joke's even started, so it's just not that exciting. If that makes sense?

That said, Yoon Sa Wol from Black Knight is an absolute hoot to write and there is one exchange in particular that definitely makes me want to cackle whenever I think about it. It's when he's talking to 4-1 (a coworker of his) and they accidentally stumble onto the subject of whether or not Sa Wol could have sex with 5-8 (the dude he is definitely interested in having sex with) and the following happens:

All things considered, it didn't seem like a bad idea at all. 4-1 didn't seem to agree. She gave him a flat look, as if the answer should be obvious. "He'd eat you for breakfast." Sa Wol paused for a beat but, really, the only thing he could think to say was: "I mean, wouldn't that be the whole point?" 4-1 let out a choked noise that sounded outright painful.

SA WOL, NO.

But also, kudos on being so goddamn shameless.

❌ What’s a trope you will never write?

I'm not sure if there is one? Because, sure, I'm not personally into mpreg or A/B/O but I can't say I'll never write them. Like, if someone gave me enough money to write those tropes, I probably would. We get money where we can in this economy xD

I think the closest I come to a complete "I refuse to write this" are the things I find triggering or just don't agree with on a moral level. So I'd have a hard time glorifying abuse, for example, or write something that involves incest or non-con between a romantic couple. The kind where transgressions are eventually forgiven or brushed aside because "they actually love them and it was just a mistake" and that kind of stuff.

There's a reason why I'm so determined to call out Yo Han's bullshit in my Devil Judge fics, for example, and why Moon Jo is such a lovesick simp in my Strangers From Hell fic. I find them to be incredibly fascinating as characters, but I admit I would never be able to write them doing something along those lines. They both skirt the line from time to time — which is sort of the point in some ways — but I try to criticise the behaviour rather than excuse or glorify it.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I kind of mentioned all of them when I did the WIP Tag Game not too long ago, so you can see what they are and read about them if you look at this tag right here!

But aside from that, I can say that I'm currently trying to edit and post chapter six of A New Dawn (Begins With Us), and, after that, I'm going to try and edit chapter 3 of The Right Set of Circumstances, and, after that, I... well, I don't know x'D I'll either try to edit Thou Shalt Not Covet or maybe I'll allow myself to write chapter 42 of Who Holds the Devil.

I'm kind of holding that chapter hostage right now since I HATE editing and would much rather write — it's just so much more fun. But if I only wrote and didn't edit, I would never post anything, so I kind of have to force myself to edit from time to time, too.

And it's extra annoying right now since I'm so feverish and that just makes editing ten times worse for some reason?

So yeah. I have a lot going on right now in terms of WIPs and it's kind of beginning to feel like a second job, not going to lie x'D

Thank you so much for the ask! :D

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

[lizbethborden]

3 deans from Columbia resigned over texts they sent during a panel on antisemitism on campus, including vomit emojis, suggestions that a rabbi speaking was "taking full advantage of this moment. Huge fundraising potential," and suggesting that comments on how Israeli and Jewish students felt uncomfortable in their dorms were "Laying the case to expand physical space! They will have their own dorm soon," with a response of "Comes from such a place of privilege... hard to hear the woe is me." An additional remark was "if only every identity community had these resources and support... Share resources!!"

I don't necessarily believe they should have had to resign. I don't think they were particularly smart about this convo either. That being said, there's more than a whiff of antisemitism, pulling on some old strings related to the exclusivity and apparent hostility to outsiders of Jewish communities, not to mention the whole money-grubbing rich Jew thing (the rabbi just wants money, this identity group is privileged and already has all the resources bc Jews are rich, etc). The idea that rich, privileged Jews are just whiners who can't tolerate a reasonable level of discomfort is... pretty prevalent in virtually all leftist environments right now. The number of people I've seen, even mutuals, saying that Jewish people on here are making things all about themselves, that we only care about what happens to US, that we're all speaking from privilege, etc...

This isn't me saying that reasonable humanitarian criticism of a Jewish person can't happen or that it is always antisemitic. There are certainly many Jewish people deserving of criticism especially w/r/t their response to the genocide being carried out in Gaza. But I am going to say that quite a lot of you probably haven't even met a Jewish person IRL (note: no, we don't have horns) and maybe need to start self-examining a bit regarding how you go about your criticisms and arguments. Of course, I don't expect anyone to actually self-examine because nobody cares about Jewish people and nobody is interested in examining a load-bearing structural element of their cultural self-image.

[fics-by-em]

Amorous Facades - Chapter Two

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

———-

previous chapter

———-

Note: Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged or commented on the last chapter! I'm so excited to hear what everyone thinks about this story and every comment really means so much so please let me know what you think!

———-

There was something about pulling up outside her mediocre-at-best flat in Jamie’s fancy car that had the situation really hitting home for Lia. 

The contrast between her humble abode and his incredibly expensive vehicle had her realizing that she was entering a world that she had no business being in and that she didn’t really know what she was getting herself into. Jamie had so easily trusted her with a car that was so far out of her price range that it was hard to even imagine and maybe he made enough money that he didn’t care if she simply stole it and never spoke to him again or maybe it was worth the risk for what he potentially stood to gain, but she had agreed to move in with him - basically a complete stranger - with hardly more than a second thought and for very little potential reward. Her behaviour in the last twenty-four hours really was starting to feel like a perfect showcase for why alcohol was harmful to the human brain because clearly she’d lost all common sense.

But she was committed to it now. 

She’d promised Jamie that she would give it a try and she wasn’t going to back out before it even started - letting people down was just not something she was programmed to do - so, with a sigh, she pulled her phone out of her bag on the passenger seat beside her as she tried to work up the courage to go inside and face the storm that she knew was waiting for her. The twenty-eight unread text messages and fourteen missed calls from Katie were enough to make her want to drive away forever and start a new life somewhere else, but she knew that her friend would be worried - especially because she couldn’t remember saying goodbye to her before leaving the club with Jamie. She typed out and deleted several replies to the string of long and increasingly frantic messages, but in the end she decided that going inside and explaining things in person would be the right thing to do.

But she regretted that decision as soon as she walked through the door.

“What the fuck, Lia?!” Katie practically shrieked before she even had the chance to close the door behind her. “I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“I was fine,” Lia weakly argued, knowing how she would feel if the tables were turned. “I did message you to let you know that.”

She’d seen the message when she’d scrolled back through their conversation and she knew the garbled drunken text did very little to strengthen her argument and the roll of Katie’s eyes showed her agreement with that thought.

“That message was hardly reassuring, it made no sense!”

“Well, you didn’t seem very worried at the time.”

It was a fair counterpoint considering Katie had simply replied with something along the lines of ‘hope you’re having fun’ and a winking emoji, but the reminder did little to ease her flatmate’s frustration.

“Because I thought you left with Daniel!”

Even just the sound of his name had Lia’s mood quickly shifting. She’d felt guilty for vanishing and for ignoring Katie’s messages that morning while she sorted things out with Jamie - she completely understood why that would be worrisome for her friend and she knew she wouldn’t have appreciated the silence had she been in Katie’s position - but hearing those words leave Katie’s mouth had her suddenly no longer feeling very apologetic.

“Why would you think that?”

She didn’t even bother keeping the disgust out of her voice and Katie shrugged in response.

“Because we went to dance and when we came back you were both gone.”

“Well, I don’t know where he went,” Lia admitted. “But he stormed off shortly after you two went to the dancefloor - right after Jamie stopped him from attacking me.”

The look on Katie’s face could only be described as skeptical and Mike - who had been watching them quietly from the couch, staying out of it as he usually did when they started bickering about anything - drew their attention as he let out a groan of protest.

“We’re all tired, Lia,” he sighed. “Let’s not start with all that right now.”

There was something about his scolding, disappointed tone that had Lia wanting to do as he said and let it all go. He’d become like a brother to her over the years that he dated Katie and she didn’t want to hurt him or create any problems for him, but she was tired. She was tired of being forced to be around Daniel - a man who had never shown her even an ounce of respect - and being treated like a whiny baby whenever she tried to tell them how upsetting his behaviour was for her.

“I’m not trying to start anything, but it’s true,” she told them, keeping her voice soft in an attempt to prevent the usual argument. “He forced me to sit in his lap as soon as you two left the table and then when I managed to get away and headed to the bar, he followed me and tried to grab me even when I was very clear that I wanted him to stop.”

Katie had the decency to look surprised by what she shared, but Mike was clearly not bothered as he rolled his eyes.

“He just fancies you. He doesn’t know how to flirt, that’s all it is.”

A scoff fell from Lia’s lips as she couldn’t believe how easily he dismissed her concerns and her disbelief only deepened when she saw Katie relax as she accepted the way that Mike explained away his friend’s indiscretions. Maybe it was the fact that Daniel’s persistence the night before had truly frightened her or maybe it was because her hangover and her unbelievable morning had her already feeling emotionally maxed out, but she found herself quickly losing her patience and her ability to bite her tongue just to keep the peace.

“That’s not all it is,” she insisted. “He’s a predator! And I don’t want to think about what would have happened if Jamie hadn’t shown up when he did.”

“A predator?” Mike questioned, the word laced with incredulity. “He’s my best mate!” 

“I know that, but you still need to hold him accountable and I’m fed up of you making excuses for him,” she informed him, crossing her arms as she turned to face Katie. “And I’m supposed to be your best friend so it hurts that you always take Daniel’s side over mine.”

In an instant, any hint of sheepishness disappeared from Katie’s face as Lia’s accusation had her recoiling as if she’d been slapped.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!” Her words were said with a laugh, but it was obvious that Katie didn’t find the situation at all amusing. “You wanna talk about betrayals? Why don’t we talk about how you got married without even telling me that you were seeing anyone!”

It felt like a cheap way to deflect from Lia’s very valid complaints, but she was surprised it hadn’t come up already and a sigh fell from her lips as she explained.

“I’m not married. That whole wedding last night was just for a laugh, it’s not a legal thing,” she assured her, but she braced herself for Katie’s reaction as she added, “But Jamie and I have been dating for a couple of months so we’re going to let people think that we’re married to see if it helps turn his reputation around a little bit.”

She’d hoped that by the time she had to explain their plan, she would have thought of a way to make it sound a little less insane, but from the dropped jaws and blank stares her news received it was obvious that it still seemed just as crazy as it had when Jamie had first suggested it. She gave them a moment to process her words, but just as she was about to offer some more reassurance, Katie found the strength to speak.

“Are you still drunk?” She blurted out. “You must still be drunk or I’m going to start worrying that you’ve lost the plot.”

“No, I’m completely sober.”

“Okay, then you’ve lost your mind,” Katie decided. “Because the Lia that I know would never agree to pretend to be married to a footballer that she doesn’t even know.”

“I do know him,” Lia insisted, feeling a pang of guilt for pushing the lie she was trying to sell to her best friend. “I told you, we’ve been dating for the last few months.”

“Oh, really?” Katie huffed, her hands settling on her hips as her scepticism was written all over her face. “Then why have I never heard about it? Or met him?”

“He asked me to be discreet,” Lia shrugged, the lie making her throat tighten as she tried to be convincing. “Until we were more serious. So I told you that I was working late if I was going to see him and he only stayed over if I knew you would be at Mike’s.”

“Where did you meet?”

“At the bookstore when I was working,” she informed her, thinking back to the story that they’d come up with in Rebecca’s office. “He came in looking for a book for his mum and I helped him find it.”

“I’m not surprised he needed help,” Mike sniggered from the couch. “I doubt Jamie Tartt could read any of the titles without someone there to help him sound out the words.”

It was similar to the joke that Roy had made and she remembered how much it had annoyed Jamie. As Katie laughed along with Mike, Lia suddenly felt a flash of protectiveness over her new ‘boyfriend’ and their ‘holier than thou’ attitude was really beginning to get under her skin.

“You don’t even know him,” she snapped. “But we’re moving in together so maybe you can come over sometime and actually meet him before you judge him so harshly.”

There was another stunned silence, but the next words out of Katie’s mouth only added to Lia’s frustration.

“Is he paying you?”

“No! You know I’m not like that! I care about him, Katie. We’d been talking about it anyway so with all this marriage stuff happening it just makes sense.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Katie huffed. “He’s a manwhore and from what I’ve seen he’s pretty proud of it so you must be really naive if you’re willing to go along with this insane scheme to trick the general public into thinking that Jamie Tartt isn’t a huge slut when he absolutely is.”

“He’s changed and he deserves a second chance.” Considering the brief amount of time she’d spent in his presence, Lia wasn’t entirely sure she believed that statement herself, but her irritation towards them had her giving a truly Oscar worthy performance as she defended her actions. “And I think it’s pretty disgusting that you’re more against me being with someone whose only supposed issue is that he used to be promiscuous than with a dangerous pervert like Daniel!”

“Oi!” Mike barked from the couch. “Stop slagging off my best mate!”

“Everything I’ve said about him is true and you both know it.” Lia’s gaze fell on Katie as she waited for her to speak up - to agree and finally take her side in the seemingly never ending debate - but Katie appeared to suddenly be very interested in a spec of dirt on the carpet and was no longer able to meet her eye. Tears pricked the corners of Lia’s eyes as she gave Katie a moment longer to do the right thing, but when she was met with a lingering silence, she scoffed as she shook her head. “Whatever. I’m going to go pack some things, but I’ll come back to get everything another day and I’ll pay rent for the next two months so you have time to find someone else or figure something out.”

Going into the conversation, Lia had planned to offer to pay her share of the rent indefinitely. With the uncertainty of her arrangement with Jamie, she didn’t want to set herself up to have nowhere to live in a couple of months if it all fell apart, but after what had been said and the continued lack of support in regards to Daniel’s unwanted advances, she was rethinking that decision. She felt hurt, she felt disrespected and she felt like staying in their flat or leaving the door open to return would just be accepting the way they minimized her feelings and would let them think that she was okay with everything that had happened.

She hesitated - leaving space for Katie to stop her, to finally take her side when it really and truly mattered - but when the only response was a huff of annoyance and a roll of her eyes, Lia hung her head and accepted the situation as she marched to her room to start packing her things.

The flat suddenly felt suffocating. 

The place that she’d called home for over a year now felt cold and unwelcoming and she was so desperate to get away that she was almost tempted to leave without taking anything, but she knew some time away from her so-called best friend would be the best choice and the only way to do that was to focus and take enough things to last her a couple weeks at least. 

She started working quickly - in an uncharacteristically unmethodical and sloppy way - and it didn’t take her long to have two suitcases and a few tote bags ready to go. Not eager for another argument to start, she was anxious to even leave her room and was almost relieved by the cold shoulder she received from Katie as she took the first couple of loads out to the car. However, she wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye so as she leaned her final suitcase against the door, she paused.

“Alright, well that’s it for now,” she informed the couple who were sitting on the couch. “I’ll let you know when I come back for everything else.”

“Okay,” Katie nodded and the wounded look on her face almost made Lia feel guilty for rushing off after their argument, but the words that followed had her guard immediately going back up. “I just have to ask, who told you this whole pretend marriage thing was a good idea?”

“Well, it was Jamie’s idea,” she admitted. “But I agreed and so did AFC Richmond’s head of marketing.”

“Is that Keeley Jones?” 

Despite the surprise she felt at Katie’s sudden knowledge of the staffing team of a random football club, it seemed like an innocent enough question and Lia nodded her head. 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Katie laughed, a smirk sliding onto her face that had Lia’s stomach tightening in knots. “Did you know that she’s his ex-girlfriend? She’s probably just pawning him off on you to get him out of her own hair.”

While that little tidbit of information had Lia feeling very confused and surprised that no one had thought to mention it at their meeting, what bothered her the most was how smug Katie was as she told her. She wasn’t sharing the news with the intention of gently coaxing Lia away from a situation that she thought was bad, she was sharing it to prove a point in some kind of big ‘gotcha’ moment. So, Lia kept her face steady as she shrugged.

“I know, we’ve met before,” she lied. “But she isn’t pawning him off on me, I care about him and I want to be with him.”

Her insistence was met with nothing more than another sarcastic laugh from her friend and Lia turned away, walking out the door without even wasting her breath to say goodbye.

------

Should I be concerned?

The text came through from her father that evening as Lia sat at the table in the dining area of Jamie’s kitchen - her kitchen - with a mug of tea in front of her. She felt a flash of anxiety as a link to the article came through immediately after to let her know what he was referring to and she quickly typed out a reply.

No, everything’s fine. I’m not married but if anyone asks, just tell them I am. I’ll explain tomorrow.

Almost immediately he sent back a thumbs up and a heart and after her disastrous experience with Katie that afternoon, she was relieved that he was choosing to take a more understanding approach. She wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be happy about the situation once he found out all the details, but she knew that he would support her no matter what and she was still reeling from the disappointment of finding out that her best friend didn’t feel the same.

She let out a sigh as she put her phone back down on the counter and looked around the room. She hadn’t been entirely surprised to find Jamie’s cupboards and fridge rather lacking when it came to food. There were plenty of protein powders and energy drinks, but the kitchen was pretty devoid of anything with any real nutrition. The house was tidy though - more so than she’d expected from a young, hotshot bachelor - and it was far more luxurious than the tiny two bedroom flat that she’d been living in before.

Again, she found herself reflecting on the fact that pretending to be married to Jamie Tartt wasn’t the worst situation in the world, but when she heard the door handle click as it turned and the creak of the front door opening she couldn’t deny the nerves that hit her.

Strolling into the kitchen a moment later, Jamie flashed her a smile as he tossed his coat onto the back of one of the chairs across from her.

“Hiya, you alright?”

“Yeah, you?”

She tried to match his welcoming smile, but it felt strained and from the skeptical look that slid onto Jamie’s face, he’d noticed it too.

“Yeah,” he nodded, reaching down to his coat pocket. “I actually got something for ya.”

“You did?” The surprise was clear in her voice, but she couldn’t deny that after the combative afternoon she’d had the gesture had her feeling very touched. However, when he slid a small velvet box across the table and she opened it to reveal a much larger and fancier ring than the one currently resting on her finger, the surprise shifted into shock and awe. “Jamie…this is too much. I can’t accept it.”

“Course you can,” Jamie insisted. “Can’t have you walkin’ around with a ring like that. It looks like I bought it at Poundland.”

Despite her reluctance to accept the expensive gift sitting in front of her, his observation was very accurate and Lia couldn’t hold back the giggle that slipped from her lips.

“You probably did buy it at Poundland,” she mused, admiring the cheap ring on her finger. “Where else would we have found rings in the middle of the night? Especially ones this tacky.”

“Exactly, that’s why you need one that’s a bit more flashy,” Jamie insisted. “And then when this is all over you can sell it or whatever, get something for your trouble.”

“Oh, I see, this is your sneaky way of still trying to pay me for all this.”

“No!” An indignant scowl slid onto Jamie’s face, but his furrowed brow relaxed as Lia’s attempt at keeping a straight face broke into a smile. “You can keep it forever for all I care. Save it as a memory of me to get you through those long, lonely nights.”

“I’m sure it’ll provide a lot of comfort.”

The sarcasm in her voice had Jamie chuckling softly as he wandered into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water as Lia carefully took her new rings out of their box. She had to credit him for his good taste. Even though it was flashier than the costume jewellery they’d found the night before, it was simple and classy and she had to admit that it was almost exactly the kind of ring that she would like to be given in a real proposal. However, she was well aware that it was probably worth more than she earned in at least six months and the weight of how indulgent it felt to wear such a beautiful piece of jewellery weighed heavily on her finger as she slid it into place.

“Looks nice,” Jamie commented as he joined her again at the table. “So, why’d you look so miserable when I walked in here? Hope it wasn’t because you were thinking about being stuck with me.”

The sudden change in topic caught her off guard, but she was quickly learning that Jamie didn’t seem like the type to beat around the bush. He was direct, but she couldn’t quite figure out if he just didn’t want to waste time by sugarcoating things or if he just didn’t care enough to.

“No, I wasn’t,” she assured him. “I was just thinking about how I’m in the market for a new best friend.”

“Oh,” Jamie frowned. “Is she not a fan of me?”

“Apparently not,” she admitted. “And I think she thinks that’s why I’m upset, but for me it’s more to do with the man you saved me from last night.”

A flash of something dark crossed over Jamie’s face - something that felt almost protective - and Lia felt a little flicker of comfort despite the loneliness she’d been feeling before he came home.

“Yeah? What’s the story with that prick?”

“His name is Daniel and he’s my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend,” she explained, pausing as she watched him try to mentally follow the trail of people connecting her to the man in question. “He’s always made me uncomfortable. Even though I’ve told him a million times that I’m not interested in him, he keeps pestering me and trying to convince me.to give him a chance. He touches me all the time in ways that I don’t think are appropriate, but everyone just laughs it off when I complain about it. They make excuses for him all the time and I’ve had enough of it. I think that’s why he got so aggressive last night because I finally lost my patience with him and really put my foot down.”

“You should’ve used your foot to kick him in the fucking balls,” Jamie suggested. “Men like that are fucking disgusting.”

“I’m glad you agree. I told them about what happened when I went to get my stuff this morning and they just kept dismissing it and acting like I was overreacting, I was starting to feel like I was the crazy one,” Lia admitted, feeling a genuine wave of relief that Jamie hadn’t taken their side. From how quickly he’d come to her rescue the night before, she was fairly certain that he’d realized the severity of the situation, but she’d heard enough stories about professional athletes to doubt Jamie’s true intention when he’d helped her out. Which led her to her next point. “And then Katie started acting like you potentially being a bit promiscuous was just as bad - if not worse - than how Daniel had behaved and it just really upset me.”

The dark look quickly slid back onto Jamie’s face and Lia wondered if perhaps she should have kept that information to herself. 

“Are you serious? That’s a fucking joke,” he protested. “I mean, I’ve been lucky over the years, you know, sexually and yeah, maybe I could’ve been more respectful sometimes after the fact, but my mum raised me right and I would never harass a girl who tells me no or says she’s not interested.” 

There was a pleading edge to his voice that cut through his understandable indignation as if he wanted her to know that what he was saying was true and there was something sincere about his annoyance that had her nodding her head.

“I believe you,” she assured him. “I know we barely know anything about each other and I don’t know much about why your reputation is in such dire need of repair, but I’m very grateful for how you stepped in last night and I think you seem like a pretty decent guy.”

“I’m trying to be,” he insisted before adding a little more information, “But I’ve been known to be a little bit of cocky, selfish twat.”

His blunt admission had a laugh falling from Lia’s lips as she covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from spitting tea all over the table.

“Well, it’s big of you to admit that now.”

“It’s true, I can’t deny it,” Jamie shrugged. “It’s…complicated. I just always felt that I had to be the best and then I was the best and I knew it. And I was so worried that people might think I’m weak that I acted so tough that no one could ever doubt me. But I can see now that it isn’t worth it, that it’s better to be a team player. I’m just trying to figure out how.”

“I think the fact that you can see your own faults and actually want to improve is a pretty great start,” Lia mused. “We all have flaws and being cocky and selfish aren’t impossible things to fix.”

“I hope so, but it’s left me with a few bridges to build.”

“And I’m sure you can do it.”

Lia flashed him what she hoped was a supportive smile and was relieved when he matched it with one of his own.

“So, what did the rest of your friends and family think about us being married?” He asked. “I hope I haven’t turned everyone against you.”

“No, I don’t think you have,” Lia assured him. “But the only person who’s reached out is my dad and he’s not worried.”

“No?”

“He trusts me,” she explained before laughing to herself at how ridiculous that claim might seem based on what Jamie knew of her. “Contrary to what last night might make you think, I don’t usually do wild stuff like get wasted and marry strangers. I don’t even drink very often and I almost never drink enough to not remember the whole night so he probably knows that I have a decent explanation for whatever happened.”

“Do you?”

There was a hint of a smirk on his face as he questioned her that had her giggling again as she shrugged.

“No, I guess not, but I work at the bookstore with him so I have until tomorrow to come up with something reasonable.”

“Good luck to you,” Jamie teased. “And let me know if you do.”

“I will,” Lia smiled. “But what about you? How did your teammates take it? Have you told your family?”

“The team didn’t care, but I don’t know if most of them really care about me at all right now. And I don’t talk to my dad much, but I told my mom.” Just the mention of his mother had a soft smile sliding onto his face and Lia felt a flicker of endearment at his obvious love for her. “She told me me that you look smart.”

That claim had Lia barking out a laugh as she stared at him in disbelief.

“She saw a picture of me drunkenly marrying her son and thought that made me seem intelligent?”

“She’s a good judge of character.” Jamie told her, the pride shining through in his voice. “And she wants to meet you actually.”

“In Manchester?” Lia’s eyes lit up as she felt a flicker of excitement that only grew when Jamie shrugged and nodded his head. “That would be nice. I love Manchester, I spent a lot of time up there when I was younger.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lia nodded, smiling at how hopeful he sounded. “My aunt’s a teacher so I used to spend most summers with her so I didn’t have to go to work every day with my dad over the school break and her husband is proper Mancunian so they’ve lived there for as long as I can remember.”

“Proper Mancunian?” Jamie asked, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “Is he City or United?”

There wasn’t very much that Lia knew about football, but she was informed enough to know that those were the names of the two big teams in Manchester. However, she wasn’t informed enough to know exactly how to answer.

“Um, is one of them blue?” She asked, waiting for him to confirm before she continued with more confidence. “Then that’s the one he likes, the one that wears light blue.”

“Ah, probably won’t like me much either then.”

“Oh,” Lia frowned. “Why not?”

“I used to play for them, for Manchester City” he explained. “I left when I went on that show and definitely burned a few bridges. Almost wrecked my whole career actually, I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if Richmond hadn’t taken me back.”

There was a sadness in his voice as he made that confession that really tugged on Lia’s heart. She believed that he was capable of being a ‘cocky twat’ as he’d so delicately put it - his own admissions and Katie’s harsh judgements supported that fact and she’d seen glimmers of it throughout their conversations - but even in their brief time together, it was obvious that there was more to him than most people thought. He had a softer side - a sweeter, funny side - and Lia felt a renewed sense that she was doing the right thing. He was clearly troubled by something and if he needed to get the public off his back and turn their opinion around to give him the confidence to work through his issues and become a better person than she was happy to help him out.

“Your team can’t care about you as little as you think then,” she pointed out. “They must think you deserve a second chance.”

“Or they just want to win and know I can help ‘em out.”

“Well, whatever the reason they let you back in, I’m sure you can win them over and prove to them that you’re trying to change,” she assured him. “And once my uncle thinks we’re together, he won’t say a bad word about you. He loves me too much to disrespect my boyfriend - or husband - so maybe he’ll put in a good word for you with the rest of the City fans too.”

Jamie didn’t look convinced, but he appreciated her support enough to accept her words of comfort without any arguments and a silence fell between them as Lia finished her now cold tea before a yawn slipped from her lips. She glanced at her phone and saw that it wasn’t quite nine o’clock, but the wild night before and lingering hangover had her already itching for bed.

“So,” she started, catching Jamie’s attention again. “Can you show me where the guest room is?”

She watched as his face went from confused to understanding until it settled on something a little sheepish.

“I can, yeah,” he nodded. “But there’s not much in there. Just some spare gym equipment.”

“That’s okay. As long as there’s a bed, that’s all I need.”

“There’s just some spare gym stuff,” Jamie repeated. “That’s all there is, there’s no bed.”

Flooded with a flash of panic, Lia stared at Jamie for a moment as she tried to puzzle out if he was joking.

“You can’t be serious,” she groaned as the look on his face made it clear that he was. “Where does your mum sleep when she visits you?”

“She hasn’t been since I moved here,” he shrugged. “Figured I’d buy one if anyone ever did visit, but I haven’t got around to it yet and it hasn’t been an issue.”

Her initial anxious reaction quickly shifted into one of annoyance as she couldn’t believe that he’d asked her to move in without realizing that he had nowhere for her to actually sleep, but her exhaustion left her quickly resigning herself to her fate.

“I guess I’ll just take the couch then.”

“No, I can’t have you doing that,” Jamie insisted, looking at her like she’d suggested something truly farfetched. “We can just share my bed.”

The panic came back as she felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of spending the night curled up in bed beside him and the smirk that slid onto Jamie’s face as he noticed the flush of colour only added to her embarrassment.

“Won’t that be weird?”

“Why would it be?” He countered. “We did last night, didn’t we? I don’t want you sleeping on the couch and if I do then I’ll be done in for training tomorrow.”

It was a valid point and it only took a minute of mulling it over for Lia to realize that sharing a bed wasn’t really that outrageous. She’d shared a bed with Katie several times over the years in a completely platonic way so there was no reason why she couldn’t do the same with Jamie and since they had no idea how long their little arrangement was going to last, it didn’t make sense for one of them to suffer indefinitely by sleeping on the couch - even though she was sure that Jamie’s couch was top of the line and probably more comfortable than her own bed had been.

“Okay,” she nodded in agreement after her moment of thought. “You’re right, it makes the most sense. Do you mind if I go to bed now? I’m pretty tired and I have work in the morning.”

“Course I don’t mind,” Jamie assured her. “I’ll help you with your suitcase.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…”

Her protests fell on deaf ears as Jamie rose from the table and headed down the hall to where she’d left her things by the front door. She tried again to stop him and was ignored once again, but she had to admit that the way his muscles strained under his shirt as he carried her heavy suitcase up the stairs had her wondering if she’d really be able to resist the temptation that came with sharing a bed with such a handsome and fit man.

-

chapter three

[pluckyredhead]

🍊🍌🍐 for the emoji meme???

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

Tim Drake! I think Tim's relations with the rest of the Batfam are so interesting, I just have no actual story to put him in. Someday I'll come up with a long plotty Batfam genfic and then you'll see, you'll all see!

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

Unfortunately the one that immediately came to mind is from a WIP and it's so good I don't want to spoil it. But I will also say that almost every line I gave Bart in Say It Just One Time makes me laugh, especially this scene:

Jon moved, but Bart got there first, wrapping his arms around Kara and letting her cry. “Hey, it’s okay, we can still get married. We don’t need the rings. Or we’ll get placeholders. We’ll get Ring Pops! Or we can steal some money from Tim, he’s loaded.” “I would just give you the money, you know,” Tim said, but he didn’t look too annoyed, probably because the joke had drawn a wet laugh out of Kara. “There’s no need to try to make Drake feel useful,” Damian drawled, stepping forward and holding out a little velvet box. “The clone’s clone might be strong, but he’s too stupid to notice when his pockets are being picked.” Kara stared at him. “You...you got them back?” Damian shrugged. “It was a simple matt—oof!” He staggered back a little as Kara grabbed him in a hug. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still a little shaky. “Thank you.” Damian very clearly had no idea what to do with either the hug or the gratitude, but Kara let him go before Jon started feeling guilty enough to rescue him. He did take a quick step back when Bart approached, as if to avoid another hug, and Jon had to bite his lip not to laugh. “Thank you so much, Damian,” Bart said. “You were killed by your evil clone once too, right? We should form a club!” “We absolutely should not,” Damian said.

🍐 Is there anything in canon that you absolutely hate and love to fix in fics? A wrong choice made, a fuck-up in characterization, a misunderstanding never cleared up, a conversation never shown onscreen, etc…

Lian's death, hands down. You'll note that the only fics I've ever acknowledged it in are post-Infinite Frontier ones where she's already back.

Also in general I love to acknowledge relationships DC has forgotten about. Jason and Eddie, Roy and Grant...actually literally anyone and Grant...

Ask me more fruits!

[emojiburst]

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[rainmustfallts4]

DovahSims: A Legacy of Legends ◇ Gen 1, Part 8

⊶⊰Info & Index⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Tag / Chrono⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Part 1⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Gen 1 Tag / Chrono⊱⊷

⊶⊰DovahSims Challenge Part 1 & Part 2⊱⊷

─────────────⊶⊰⊱⊷─────────────

Father Winter is here! Has Soren been a good boy this year? c:

He has! I wonder what he’ll get~

PFFFFFT YOU MIGHT AS WELL GIVEN HIM COAL, I’M DEAD

It is a nice PC, though, and that means we can sell the laptop.

Soren decided he wanted to give back so he offered Father Winter one of the candles he made. It was a pretty one using blue dye!

look at his face omg he is not pleased

Soren, you’re getting coal next year, my guy.

Jacques literally came over and started cleaning lol He’s like, ‘Soren won’t do it himself so I guess I have to.’

What a good friend c:

That’s a good thing because the rules say you must stay single forever c:

Why does he look so… guilty? He looks like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I think the biggest challenge is keeping up enough bits and pieces to keep fabricating and candle making. I sold the recycling machine we had because we needed the money at the time, but I’m thinking maybe I should have kept it? Then again, if I keep coming here, I can dive in the dumpster for recyclables that I can then put in the machine.

We found a bigger fridge! 😀 The mini fridge is cool and all, but it’s no full sized fridge, ya know? There’s only so much cheese you can fit in a mini fridge!

Another lifestyle earned lol It makes sense since his only friend is Jacques.

😮 It made a text emoji face! So cuuuute

His name is Squishy and we love him. He is our little Squishy.

I should have recycled these but I don’t know, I think they’re super cute. Plus, we need toys for the heir anyway and we don’t have to buy them this way! No one tell the heir his toys came from a dumpster…

[huffle-dork]

Etwas Peilen (Swapboys AU)

Continuation of Welcome to the Show exploring Alt and Henny’s relationship!

Masterpost | More Swapboys

Before the new friends parted ways, the good doctor Jackson rounded them all up to get their scratches and wounds tended to. Bro and Jackie were already helped, with Bro giving a detailed report to the police and Jackie icing his aching nose.

Dr. J had Alt up on the bar stools with him, lightly dabbing antiseptic on the cuts on his cheek. Alt hissed and was trying not to glitch away as Jameson held him still.

Henrik watched anxiously, wringing his fingers back and forth. He… can’t believe Magnificent just… let them go. Guess they proved themselves? Maybe… but- Henrik was scared the puppetmaster was only biding his time. And until now… he had no one who he could confide in.

Until… Alt.

As the good doctor started to gather his supplies and finished up with Alt, popping a clean white bandage on his cheek- Henrik hesitated before slowly approaching. The normally charismatic actor felt nerves in his throat but he tapped the glitch on the shoulder.

Alt looked back and raised an eyebrow at him, “Schneep? Uh… wassup?”

Henrik tapped his legs as he tried to find his voice, “T-Today was… long day. But- we… we have found ourselves in a uh… similar position, yes? And so I… I was wanting to invite you to make the drinkings with me?”

Alt’s eyebrows furrow in slight concern, “Are you suggesting alcohol to wash our troubles away? Cuz I don’t think the doc would approve of that-“ He glanced back towards Jameson as he went to join the others.

The gentleman laughs and shakes his head, “No no! Not in that way… I- just think it would be nice to… get to know each other better? Since well… you know.” Henrik messes with the back of his head anxiously, trying to give an award winning smile to Alt.

The younger man stared at Henrik with an unreadable expression for a couple beats. Then, he sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets, going to pull his mask up out of habit but stopping himself to look back at the actor.

“…I should warn you I’m not an open person so… I dunno how much getting to know each other they’ll be… but, sure. Tomorrow night… meet me at Insomnia.”

Henrik tilts his head slightly, “Not tonight?”

Alt laughs, though, it looks kinda pained. “Nah I… I got a gig tonight.” He laughs some more and pushes his bangs back then tugs on them, “god… I have a gig… I… I should get ready for that…”

Henrik frowns in sympathy and hesitates before putting a hand on Alt’s shoulder. “Please… do not push yourself too hard my friend… and you… you are injured…”

Alt blinks in surprise at the gesture and then glitches back to his feet, looking at the actor warily. Henrik blinks and holds up a hand and Alt attempts to give a forced smile. “I-I would cancel but… I need money for drinks now.”

Henrik steps back and wildly waves his hands, half signing out of habit. “No no! You will not pay! It will be on me!”

The glitch seems surprised by this too. But, now he smiles more genuinely. “Well… all the more motivation then, huh?”

He lightly hits Henrik on the shoulder as he starts to walk away, turning so the gentleman can still read his lips. “…see you tomorrow then, Schneep. You know how to reach me.”

He then pauses and fully turns back towards Henrik, something dawning on his face. “Wait… you Do know how to text right? U-Use a phone?”

Henrik laughs and nods, “Ja I know the telefon! I’m not as fresh from the past as you think, my friend. I have learned very much!”

“Oh… okay- good then…” Alt nods then sends a two finger salute Henrik’s way, glitching away into that night. “See ya.”

Turns out Henrik did know how to text but… not… well-

Around 7 pm the next day Alt’s phone buzzed with:

Schneep

🍺🙏☑️❓❓❓

Alt

…Yeah man- how’s 9 sound?

Schneep

😁🥰❗️❗️❗️

Alt

U kno u don’t have to use only emojis to text right?

Schneep

👍

Welp- guess that answered that. (Asking Jackie about it- apparently after Dr. J helped Henrik get his phone, the teal gentleman accidently got stuck in the emoji menu for a couple days and now is like- addicted to them. Alt wasnt sure if that was better or worse than old man texting-)

A little after 9, Alt glitched in front of the small pub downtown called Insomnia. He liked it here- good place for a drink after some of his shows.

He walks in, nodding towards the bartender that recognized his mask. Then, it was surprisingly easy to find Schneep- cuz he barreled right towards Alt with his arms open.

“Hallo, Alt!! My friend!!” He shouted.

Alt quickly stumbled back, his shoulders buzzing as he tried to keep out of Henrik’s grip. He hurried to take off his mask and hold up his hands. “Uh- hi Schneep- sorry just- not good with… contact-”

Henrik tilted his head in confusion but then got the memo and nodded, a bright smile back on his face. “Oh yes! Not to worry- I will save huggings for later!”

“Y…yeah- sure-” Alt muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. Damn- this guy was too sweet. It was kinda intimidating…

A furry head peaked out from Henrik’s leg and Alt recognized Schneep’s dog, Sahne. He felt himself bristle a bit like an offended cat. But, she just blinked at him, her tail slightly wagging. She had her vest on- guess she was working. So, Alt tried his best to ignore her.

Henrik led them towards a quieter part of the bar where he had already set himself up with a small book. Though, once Alt got closer he recognized it as something more than just a paperback novel- it was a small moleskin sketchbook. Henrik plopped into the seat and Alt hesitated before sitting down and gesturing towards the book.

“You… draw?”

The gentleman’s eyes sparkled as he eagerly nodded. “Oh yes! I quite like making art in my spare time! Normally, I like to paint… but when I wait for friends I like to draw portraits!”

He shows Alt his sketches- quick gestures of other patrons- mostly anyone with a very striking appearance. Henrik smiles as he looks at them. “I think… learning people is helping me to understand more and more about how people work now. Sometimes- it helps it feel not too different.” He pats Sahne’s head as she sits down next to him. She licks his fingers then settles down to rest under his barstool.

Alt listens and nods to his words. He then flushes and fumbles for his backpack. They were trying to get to know each other and… well- this was something most people don’t know about him. But, artists liked showing off to other artists. It couldn’t hurt… He pulls out a thin tablet and then turns on the screen, flipping to show it to Henrik. On the screen are designs he’s done for his illusions and shows- and concepts of graffiti tags, most featuring a green eyeball with red x’s and a stitched smiley face over its iris. Alt’s face turns very red as he stammers out, “I uh… I draw too. And, um… i also like- painting but… not in the way you do.”

The German actor looks beyond pleased, sparkles practically coming off his body as he grabs Alt’s hands and holds them close. Alt yelps and pulls himself away and Henrik apologizes quickly, “Oh yes sorry! But Alt! You are good! Such fun colors!! I wondered if it was bright paint on your clothes! Someday you must show me more of your work!”

The glitch turns even more red and hides a bit in his hoodie, “Um… yeah- if I can… find one that’s uh- in a good spot… I can show you.”

Alt had been trying to find more free spaces lately but- doesn’t mean he doesn’t still tag where he’s not supposed to. Not that anyone could catch him- he had quite the streak for heaven spots around the area. Couldn’t take Henrik to see those though- well, at least up close.

Alt flagged down the bartender and ordered some Irish whiskey, watching as Henrik got what looked like his 3rd pint of beer. He smirked and sipped at the drink, taking a second to appreciate it before he sighs and looks back at Henrik.

“Alright, you had something on your mind, right? Or were you serious about getting to ‘know me’?” Alt added the air quotes to make sure his sarcasm wasn’t lost on Schneep.

Henrik blinked and then played with the pages of his sketchbook. “Oh ah… I do- want to get to know you… I think you seem- well… very rough around edges- but… sympathetic too. I think I would very much like to be friends.” He tried to smile at Alt. But, then he sighs and takes a sip of his drink before continuing.

“But- if you want to skip pleasantries then- we can talk about the elephant in the air-”

“...do you mean ‘elephant in the room’?”

Henrik flushed and then laughed, “Oh is that how that is called? But… ja- let’s talk about this elephant.”

He then gets quiet and looks down, tracing the lines in the table.

“...Magnificent-” He eventually whispers, suppressing a shudder. “I… I could not help but notice… that he treated you and me… very different from each other.”

He looks to meet Alt’s eyes now, “I do not know how it works for you… maybe it is different… but when I am ah- puppet… I see it all. I remember. Not right away but… it comes to me in my dreams…” He grips one of his hands into a fist and closes his eyes as he takes a shaky breath. Sahne seems to sense his distress and reaches up to rest her head on his leg. He continues, “I cannot control what my body does. I cannot form my own thoughts- but I still… see it. I am forced to take in what awful things I am made to do…”

Henrik hesitates again before meeting Alt’s gaze. “in the warehouse, when he gave you his power… did you mean it? That you wanted all that or… was that his ah- thinking forced in you?”

Alt frowns. Wow- that was… immediately very deep. He takes a long sip of his whiskey before he responds, but his voice is quiet. He almost forgets he needs to turn enough for Henrik to read his lips.

“I… I was definitely influenced but… I guess. I do.. kinda want that?” He grips at his head slightly, “It’s… complicated… and goes wayyy into my backstory that I’m not sure you’re at a level to unlock yet.”

Henrik looks confused.

Alt shakes his head.

“Sorry video game joke uh- im not sure we’re… close enough yet… to explain why… but-”

“Then, can I share some of me?”

The glitch blinks at the actor. “Huh?”

“If you know me better then- we would be closer. And you can explain better, ja?” Henrik smiles.

Alt looks confused by this but eventually laughs and knocks back some more of his drink. “Alright, shoot.”

Henrik hums and looks up, “Oh… where to begin…?”

“Oh!” He grins at Alt, “I know is hard to believe because of my accent but- did you know I am not full German? Actually, I am a full British citizen!”

Alt’s eyebrows shot up, “...that is hard to believe.”

The gentleman laughs lightly, “I know my accent is everywhere- but I spent many of my early years only speaking German- and sometimes French!” He gets a dreamy look on his face, “My father was a British doctor- he learned in France where he met my mother. She was full German but was trying to study with some artists there. They met… fell in love and then moved to London and had their 5 kids.”

“5 kids?!”

“Yes! I was the baby!” Henrik added with glee. “I had 4 older siblings- two brothers, Peter and Fritz… and my sisters, Gabi and Ilse.” He smiles sadly for a second and pauses to take another drink before sharing more.

“Father used to say when he grew up he hated German because he was expected to learn it. But then, he met my mother and it was suddenly the most beautiful language to him. We loved speaking it- even while in England. I wouldn’t even see Germany until I was grown.”

He then frowns and leans more on the table, absent-mindedly petting Sahne’s fur back. “... that changed with the war. The great war… Then, our accents and our language was suddenly not to be spoken. People would get angry with us for sounding too German. We made sure to hide our German sounding names… Father was on the lines, as were my brothers.

So… they were… somewhat safe when the Zeppelins came. Safer than we were…”

Alt’s heart and stomach dropped.

“No one was prepared… we were out shopping and… and-” Henrk clenched his glass tight with both hands, his fingers shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a stuttering breath. Sahne whined and leaned more on his leg. Alt didn’t know what to say-

“... Mama, Ilse and Gabi didn’t have to suffer. But, I never saw them again-”

“...Schneep-” Alt tried to interrupt. But, Henrik was lost in his re-telling.

“That’s how my deafness started, I was… 11, I think? Peter found me, he was working in a hospital nearby. He took care of me. Some kind soldiers taught me sign while I recovered- then... Then father was-”

“Schneep!” Alt exclaimed and gripped onto Henrik’s shoulder. The gentleman looked up with slightly misty eyes. Alt was quick to pull away but he held up his hands. “Dude… you… you more than earned your level- I… I can answer your question now… if you want.”

Henrik blinks and then laughs, looking a bit embarrassed as he rubbed at his eyes. “O-oh ja… I forgot that was the point… we are not here to hear such sad story!” He tried to smile it off but Alt could tell it was forced.

Alt swallowed and then knocked down the rest of his drink, the alcohol burning his throat. He quickly ordered another one, shaking himself out. “Need a bit more liquid courage for this…” He muttered.

Once the new drink is gotten, Alt holds it in his hands for a second before sighing and turning enough for Henrik to understand but not enough to look in his eyes. Pixels vibrate around his head and shoulders in a way that’s hard to see in the dim light of the pub.

“… I dunno if you met anyone like me in your time. And not just.. cuz of the glitches and magic but… I was… born… wrong.” He clenched his teeth slightly and tried to ignore the feeling that was screaming at him- telling him that every eye was on him. “…And I grew up… constantly thinking about it… how I wanted to be something… better. Stronger… because I didn’t feel like I was… as I am.”

He traces the rim of his cup in thought. Henrik watched him very patiently. Alt felt like that was more than he deserved.

“I know Mag was spitting fucking bullshit- but… some part of me… wants to believe him. And I’m not sure if that’s his mind tricks or… the part of me that wants to be… something more. I.. I want to be stronger… but I don’t know how to get there… and for just a little bit… I did believe him. That he could… make me stronger. And… things would get… easier.”

He leans his head on the table, starting to feel the alcohol in his cheeks. Schneep leans closer to make sure he can still understand. Alt angles his head a bit better as he mumbles in defeat.

“I’m sorry… I know you want to find some good in me but… my life has royally sucked. And… sometimes what Mag purrs out sounds… argh!”

He suddenly grips at his head, a headache blooming alongside his conflicted mind. Purple seems to spark weakly in his eyes.

“I dunno! I’m confused! I… I can still hear his stupid smug voice in my head…! I don’t know what I want…! I just- I just… I’m so fucking tired…! Of all of this-! I’m tired of being hungry and- and- powerless and a-scared… I don’t want to feel so lost anymore…!”

He starts to cry but hides his face and he hiccups “I want all of this to stop…!”

Henrik almost misses the last part but- his eyebrows crinkle with sympathy. Alt starts to come back to himself and then shoots up, looking at Henrik with wide eyes and red ears.

“Fuck I- I didn’t… I didn’t want to-“

The gentleman hesitates, going to reach out like he wants to touch Alt’s hand, but then stops to just loop his pinky around Alt’s own. Alt almost pulls away but- that’s… that’s not so bad.

“I understand,” He says softly, “He whispers siren songs- into your head. But… he will only tell you things you want to hear. He does not care… he only wants control. His promises are… empty.”

He sighs and looks down, shrugging. “That is how he got me. He used my confusion and promised to help me… he did not. He is nothing but ein lügnerischer Bastard.”

Alt looks away but- he’s afraid to tell Henrik how little he cared. Before, he met the others. Before he even thought he could become friends with them… with anyone. He didn’t care who he hurt- if he got hurt. Because- he’d finally be somewhere better…. Someone better. ….right?

Henrik lets go of Alt’s pinky and then waves a hand, giving a nervous smile.

“This is getting too of the serious! We should… talk about other things!”

Alt looked down at the table and sighs. “ I… I think… I need to go home…”

“No!” Henrik suddenly yells, startling the glitch and Sahne, who bumped her head on his leg. The actor then pleads to Alt. “We do not need to talk anymore if that is what you want! We can just… do the hangings out! We could… draw together and drink! No more serious talk!”

This gives Alt pause. Actually… that sounded like it could be fun. The pickpocket slowly smiled, bringing back his tablet. “You know what Schneep… I’ll bite. But it’s on your wallet-“

Schneep beamed brightly.

The two spent a while just drawing together. Alt tried to copy Henrik’s idea of drawing others around him. But- he wasn’t nearly as good as Schneep. So, he went back to what he knew- he even tried making bubble tags of the others' names. Just for fun. It was nice to just- doodle for a change.

He glanced at Schneep who had paused in his drawing to stare at someone across the way. He had a somewhat lovestruck look on his face.

Alt tried to follow his gaze- and saw what looked like a man- but honestly their gender was pretty ambiguous. They had tan copper skin and wavy brown hair. They were dressed in shiny silks with celestial patterns on them- even Alt had to admit they were very pretty. Maybe they were a model.

Henrik seemed to think so too- cuz as Alt looked at Henrik’s sketchbook- the whole page was filled with studies of that one person.

The glitch smirked and then bumped Henrik enough to get his attention. “Like something you see?”

“Hm? Oh! Ja… very much-“ Henrik sighed as he looked back. “He is… so pretty- I cannot stop looking…”

Alt rolled his eyes and waved a hand in front of his face. “Careful- you don’t want to creep them out-“

Then Alt frowns, realizing something.

“Wait… Schneep- are you… gay?” Alt makes a face and thinks, “wasn’t that like- a sin back then or something?”

Henrik’s face turns bright red with embarrassment and alarm. He holds his cheeks and ducks down, whispering, “ah yes right I- I cannot think such things!”

Alt wasn’t expecting such a response- so he hurries to correct him “no no it’s okay! it’s… not like it was anymore. It’s okay now- no laws against it!” Alt hurried to look around then gestures vaguely at a cluster of gay couples on another side of the pub. “Like see there’s a couple guys over there too- you’re fine…”

The actor seems to calm slightly at this and nods. Alt hesitates before adding, “I just- didn’t expect someone from your time to even be into that…”

Henrik laughs “Well it was- against the law. Very strictly for a longtime… but it does not mean the thoughts are not there.” He looks back to study the pretty person again as he swirls his drink in his glass. “Though… I think I like just- pretty people in general. I do not care what sex they are, you know?”

“Well- if it helps, I think they’re non-binary- from what I can tell at least.” Alt shrugs.

“Ah yes… that is- neither girl nor boy… yes?”

“It gets… complicated but- yeah basically.” Alt answers. He makes a face and takes a long sip of his drink. “Gender is weird.”

He then starts to think about this too. Maybe he was having too much to drink by now but- he finds himself muttering. “I get it… the pretty people thing. I- think I’m the same…? Though… I dunno- I don’t… crush on anyone. But I think if I knew someone for long enough… maybe-” Alt sighs dramatically and falls back against the table, squishing his cheek against it. “feelings are weird too…”

Henrik smiles and shakes his head with a laugh, “They are indeed…”

“Fucking hate them-“ the glitch muttered. Henrik shakes his head with a quiet giggle.

“You know- I had many chances to visit Berlin once I started acting. And it was such a sight…! It was… more okay there- to be queer. Even here in Brighton, it was becoming better and better! It made me feel… so happy. Like I could be understood- eventually.”

He looks to Alt and smiles, “Even when I was younger… I think I heard of people like you, Alt.” Alt’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

He grips his glass and looks down at the table. “However…It all started to change… right before I- I was brought…“ He pressed his lips together and suppressed a shudder.

Alt’s face creases in sympathy. He knocks back the rest of his drink then adds quietly. “…you dodged something really awful, Schneep…”

“I know…” Henrik’s voice cracks. “…I am… grateful in some ways… that I did not have to suffer another war… but…” He bites his lip to keep from crying.

Alt can tell there’s a lot left unsaid in the silence but he can read it well enough. No need to draw out this pain for the poor guy. Alt’s been pretty sensitive to touch tonight but- he leans his shoulder against Hen and flags down the bartender for another round. “…it’s okay, Schneep. I get it… let’s talk about something else, alright?”

Henrik quietly nods.

There’s quiet for a second before Alt asks, “uh… I don’t know- a lot of sign yet… wanna try to teach me? Something simple though.”

Schneep’s face instantly lights up with excitement and nods. “Oh yes!! I have the perfect thing!!”

Turns out- in sign, you can either finger spell a name or whoever’s signing can make up a sign that’s faster for someone they know. So, Henrik made quick work of teaching Alt the signs he used for their little group.

Bro Fantastic was the letter B then the sign for hero. Jackie was J then the sign for tired. Dr. J was easy- it was two J’s then the sign for doctor, naturally. And Sahne was cream, dog. Because Sahne in German meant Cream. Not the most creative name but- Alt had to admit it suited her.

Eventually Henrik starts to sign something that starts with A- then he makes a jagged motion in the air. Alt tilts his head.

“What’s that one?”

“It’s you! A- then lightning! Alt!” Henrik adds cheerily.

Alt feels his face heat up slightly. He then grins and laughs, “heh- awesome. Got any others?”

Henrik thinks- and Alt can see his cheeks getting flushed and warm like he feels on his own. So everything was a bit harder to slug through- but it was definitely more fun.

Finally, Henrik laughs and then starts a sign that looks like he’s drawing whiskers on his face. Then he taps his hand on his forehead, holding it straight up and touching the thumb to his skin.

Alt narrows his eyes. “Mmmm what’s that mean-“

Henrik grins real wide as he shows again, this time explaining. “Cat, bitch!”

The glitch’s eyes widen and then he barks out a laughs nearly spilling his drink. “Magnificent!”

“Yes! You got it!”

They both erupt into drunken laughter and giggles, falling over on each other.

The night wears on for a bit longer before the two admit they’ve had enough to drink. Alt feels it a bit more than his German counterpart and ends up stumbling into him as he attempts to stand up, nearly running into Sahne.

“Oops… s’rry pubby-“ Alt mumbles. Sahne wags her tail vigorously in response.

Henrik laughs then asks, “Can I help you outside, or?”

Alt grumbles and waves his hand. “Yeh ye- do wh’ev’r ya want…” He then pushes his face somewhat against Henrik’s side and the taller man quietly giggles at the sight.

Henrik leads the two outside and then tries to flag down a cab. He helps hold Alt up with one arm, while Sahne guards his other side, alerting him to any sounds he needs to watch out for.

He feels Alt shift and looks down to see the tired glitch try to find his eyes.

“…hen?” Alt slurs out.

It takes a second for Henrik to process that but his eyebrows shoot up. Alt hasn’t attempted to use his first name yet- it still wasn’t it fully, but it was close enough to make Henrik’s chest feel light.

The glitch looks away at first but then looks back to mumble out, “…it was nice. To not drink… alone.”

Henrik smiles and nods, “…I thought so too! It was very funny! …Perhaps we can… do it again sometime?”

Alt can’t help but feel himself smile. “…yeah… I think I’d like that…”

[simmetrycal]

Happy Birthday

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

wc: 6.7 k

a/n: PRAISE THE LAWD ON THIS BLESSED SUNDAY FOR I AM DONE.

enjoy yume!

-

the party was going great. everything was in order, drinks were on a tab, catering was perfect, and a lot a people came. it was loud, the lighting was low, and the music was good.

only, kosuke didn’t care nor even think about any of these things. it was his own birthday party and he wasn’t even interested in the activities going on.

in fact, he was in the restroom for quite some time.

patrick orchestrated the party and invited all the guests. mainly because he has an odd passion for organizing events and activities— as well as using it as content for his vlogs.

he had his camera with him the entire night, holding it up for himself and poppy mostly. he’d soon post it the next day and probably title it “grwm to throw a birthday party for my best friends ex (shit goes down NO CLICKBAIT)” with shock emojis on the thumbnail.

the whole thing was paid for in advance using the money from kosukes big boxing win last night.

sure it should have gone towards kosuke and takashi’s rent or maybe to their day-by-day inclining debt, but he decided that it was fine to do whatever they wanted with it as long as it meant kosuke had a good birthday.

besides, he deserved it. he landed the last hit before the eighth round buzzer rang with a stunning knockout. kosuke was on top of the world, bloodied and battered but feeling good.

the opponent he faught was someone he’d been wanting to get in the ring with for years now. each are one of the best cruiserweight fighter in their bracket and they finally got to meet.

he was a jaguar from brazil by the name of santos and he had tattoos all over. he hit kosuke at the weigh in and it started crazy hype for the fight leading up in a few weeks. the yoshida versus santos posters were plastered all over downtown and tons of bets were placed on that night.

it may have been good for publicity but not for kosuke. the premature jab by santos only set him off and if it weren’t for his coach he would have torn the guy up to shreds.

in the gym, people who know kosuke tend to watch out for his “tiny” anger problem. they always clear the way to his training area as soon as he walks in. loud voices become low murmurs and the gym equipment noises only grow.

in the locker room, it’s dead silent. the other fighters can hardly even glance up. out of fear or respect— it didn’t matter. nobody looked at kosuke for very long lest they have a desire to get targeted.

with takashi, it was the same way but a bit less so. he was still threatening but the turmoil levels were much lower. you could probably even talk to him on a good day.

but despite the aggression, kosuke and takashi’s presence at the boxing gym is good for morale. they bring a certain energy that others feed off of.

as for the fight last night, suke had sustained a couple of injuries but it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. only a cut eyebrow, some swelling, and some scratches and bruises.

even after 24 hours they look much better than when he stood up there on the canvas after the win. and while he was up there, he took a glance around at the audience, hoping to see a certain red doll waiting somewhere for him— win or lose.

but she wasn’t.

and he felt like an idiot for expecting her to show up.

but he wouldn’t put it past her; she’s done it before. back when their relationship was newer; poppy used to refuse to go to these because she hates the sport of boxing but one day during a real big fight, she showed up.

kosuke was overjoyed, not because he won but because she was there. he slid between the ropes and hopped off the canvas, meeting her with a strong hug. only pulling away so he could kiss her until they couldn’t breathe.

they made love that night and it may have been one of the best moments of their relationship in kosuke’s opinion. it was slow and passionate. he took his time with her made sure every inch of her body was cared for and pleased. the look in his eyes was lethal.

but now.. they’re going through it.

poppy never shows up and it’s pointless to consider the possibility she might.

kosuke quit looking for her and instead met the acknowledging eyes of his brother— the person who’s there for him the most after every single match. he’s his right hand man and vice versa.

he gives him his water, mouthgard, his wet towel and ice, vaseline for cuts, he even wraps the athletic tape around his paws and tightens sukes gloves over them. and kosuke does the same thing for takashi when their places are swapped.

but even then, they have a bad relationship outside of matches and the boxing gym. at home, they barely talk and often times, takashi is quickly walking past kosukes door, careful not to look in and see something he’ll regret.

kosuke rarely ever closes his door— you’d think at that point he didn’t even have one. something about the apartment being under his name or whatever. still, that didn’t magically mean he can give himself the title of being the king of their apartment, letting anyone who walks by see the woman he had bent over and half sliding off his sheets while he took her from behind.

takashi normally wears noise canceling headphones. especially because he’s part owl, which means his hearing is so good it’s more of a curse than a blessing, so headphones definitely help block out the constant noises he’s hearing.

he has them on almost virtually all the time. especially at home where he can truly be comfortable. his shaking stops and his heartbeat becomes regular again.

the only downside to wearing them though is whenever taka walks around thinking nobody’s home, he’ll accidently peer into his brothers room and see something he forever wishes he could unsee.

it’s even worse when suke catches him— thinking his brother is a peeping tom makes him disgusted and violent. he’s thrown countless items at taka that have shattered against the wall past his head, which were always followed by a shriek from the girl.

but takashi being a pervert could not be further from the truth. his brain and his body just didn’t work together that way— it was uncommon for takashi to feel arousal.

he sat up from his stool at the bar and headed towards the restrooms, weaving through the crowd of people partying. he caught the eyes of a few of his friends, poppy and evelyn who watched him curiously.

he mouthed “bathroom” and they nodded in acknowledgment. they may not know exactly what taka suffers from and what he goes through (because of kosuke leading them off the trail) but they know enough to be worried for him.

he may have passed out a couple times during previous hang outs for medical reasons— but embarrassment aside— he felt lucky to have such caring friends.

on his way to the restrooms down the back hall of the bar, takashi strolled slowly. the alcohol was affecting his better judgement, making him burst into the bathroom.

upon entering, he was shockingly met with a naked woman becoming beet red in the face, and kosuke over her with his belt and zipper undone. they were doing it right over the sink—

the audacity to not even use a stall.

what’s more is that kosuke didn’t even notice takashi. he noticed the face of the girl and tried to follow her gaze, only seeing the door swinging closed left behind by somebody.

“so what? someone saw us. no big deal.” he grunted, preoccupied with kissing her chest and returning to his pace of sliding in and out of her.

takashi stumbled out of the grimy hallway, his heart rate beginning to increase as he thought of all the ways kosuke would hurt him later for walking in on them.

it seemed like it should matter so little, like getting on a downward spiral was being dramatic. but one thought led to another and suddenly takashi’s anxiety was beginning to grow rapidly. his heart condition often blew symtoms out of proportion.

he thought of things related to kosuke, then slowly, unrelated to kosuke, wild and invasive thoughts that gradually stressed him out more and more.

come to think of it, takashi needed to pick up his meds around this time. he had just gotten a refill thanks to the recent win and his primary physician said it should be ready later.

it was a bit of a struggle to have kosuke pay for them. afterall, with hardly any insurance coverage they had to pay for his refills almost entirely out of pocket.

takashi fiddled with his paws as he asked him yesterday night. it wasn’t good timing for kosuke but it didn’t matter. he needed them and they both knew that.

kosuke had just had an argument with poppy over the phone when taka asked. at first he called her to let her know she left a bra at his house but it turns out it wasn’t hers. needless to say kosuke would say no to pretty much anything taka asked for in the moment— so it was miracle he got convinced.

on his way toward the exit, taka bumped into his friends again. this time patrick had joined them, vlogging as he did, and they were all immediately focused on stumbling takashi.

are you okay’s and what’s wrong takashi spewed out from their worried mouths.

taka looked up, meeting the bicolored eyes of poppy. she looked at him with concern and had her paw on his shoulder. without trying to, his eyes met her low cleavage red dress.

although he felt nothing, he admired the way she was so beautiful. of course she would be wearing something nice at kosukes party— despite the state of their relationship.

patrick also dressed nicely but it wasn’t unusual, his wardrobe was only prim and proper. and evelyn wore what she normally did and that made takashi feel better about wearing his baggy everyday clothes at this party as well.

not like he had any nicer ones besides one crisp suit. and that was reserved for important boxing conferences and very special occasions.

suddenly the doors opened and two new guests arrived, leaving takashi’s circle to dissipate. he was undecided if that was something to be grateful for or something to miss.

the guests were recognized as the ski instructor and his bulky friend who works at the rental place with him.

kenai and the other one. takashi didn’t know his name.

before leaving, taka watched as poppy practically jumped into the other husky’s embrace. it was oddly intense. kenai blushed and so did she, fixing her dress as they parted. the big one shook patrick’s hand and also smiled at him. they seemed so friendly all together..

takashi took this as a sign to leave. he didn’t want to get acquainted with kenai and the new guy.

meeting up with kenai multiple times this week was already bad enough for the brothers. not only did the guy admit he didn’t know how to ski just so he could “make their acquaintance” but he showed them up with his snowboarding. kosuke and takashi were good but they had no clue kenai was going to be so annoyingly incredible at it. he could be a professional as far as they could’ve guessed.

kosuke watched from afar, being unusually silent down the hill as his girlfriend became friendlier and friendlier with the instructor. they met up “secretly” for lunch once and coffee twice this week. both thinking they were being covert and sneaky when in reality, kosuke knew about it all.

it was a ticking time bomb.

poppy and kenai were compatible. much, much more compatible than kosuke and her ever were— by a long shot. kosuke was a puzzle piece from a different box, trying to fit himself into poppy’s picture when he so clearly wasn’t apart of it.

but he forced it so.

like an invasive species or disease, slowly hurting her more the longer he stayed. or better yet, he was a parasite.

he latched onto her all those years ago and has been taking advantage of her since.

though, kosuke wasn’t interested in just letting her go so easily now that kenai entered their atmosphere. he wasn’t about to let this new guy who looked to be her perfect match just waltz in and steal her away.

no, kosuke would keep her for as long as he wanted. ever since they’ve been meeting up with this instructor, he’s backed off just enough to let poppy think she can do as she pleases.

he’s ignored her, essentially. and she’s been fine with it up until the other night. wondering and confronting him for why her boyfriend isn’t there for her when she needs him to be.

he wanted to say something like “why don’t you ask your new boyfriend,” but instead, kosuke then simply gave her everything she desired overnight. kissing her, making love to her, being kind and caring, building her up. and the next morning, he broke things off.

it only made her more conflicted— just how he intended. it was all tricks, mind games, manipulation. he knew she would get bored of this new boy soon enough and come running back to him. the love that kosuke can show her was promising enough to go back.

and in the meanwhile, kosuke enjoyed some nice time fucking floozies one after another. perhaps it was because he truly wanted to or perhaps he did it to distract himself from the anxiety that began to eat away at him.

breaking up with poppy was complicated. contradictory.

*what if you’re making a big mistake?* replayed in his mind, causing much self doubt.

if he so desperately desired her it made no sense to leave her. because by the slim chance his tactic doesn’t work, they’re truly done. the new guy will sweep her off her feet before kosuke can even turn around and plead.

but he ignored the nagging fear. it will work, he’s convinced himself. she will come crying back.

and so, kosuke focused on the other women. poppy was out of sight and (mostly) out of mind.

kosuke got with any pretty canine girl. that was his type. it wasn’t always that way but ever since poppy, the other girls he’s had sex with always resemble her in one slight way or another. but he cared not to admit that.

poppy wasn’t an idiot. she knew of this little ritual he always did. she wasn’t going to overreact or be dramatic after this “break up”. the process was as normal as breathing at this point.

in fact it was good, it gave them the opportunity to have some time away. which they so desperately needed after getting to this boiling point weeks upon weeks now.

poppy enjoyed it by getting to know kenai, who was like a refreshing tall drink of water after years of drinking anything but.

she did want to see him more. possibly even kiss him. touch him.

but she decided it’s best to take things slow, after all, kenai was doing just that with her. rushing into things has never worked out for her so far.

she wouldn’t mess up something good so soon. not after feeling like it was her fault her and kosuke were such a mess.

to avoid thinking about it, poppy turned her attention to kenai, both of them silently gawking at how perfect they thought the other looked.

“i didn’t think you’d come,” she said, scratching her elbow. it was a nervous habit she did when she didn’t want to feel awkward.

“why wouldn’t i? you’re here.”

“oh you know,” poppy waved off. “it is for kosuke and whatnot. so i thought that might deter you.” she chuckled to make it seem more casual.

it wasn’t.

she worried for kenai. for kosuke. for their inevitable interaction.

the two of them being here was possibly worse than any boxing ring face off she would ever see.

“i mean.. you guys broke up right? water under the bridge.” kenai mentioned, walking poppy to the bar to get her a drink. the gentle touch he had on her lower back didn’t go unnoticed.

“yeah, i guess so.” she smiled, playing off the growing nervousness bubbling in her chest.

has no idea that she and kosuke had sex the night before the break up.

no idea how kosuke went down on her, making them impossibly close when poppy wrapped her legs around his head and groaned past the shoved panties in her mouth.

-

luckily, takashi’s pharmacy was just a block away from the bar. they were open until 11 tonight so taka had to walk quickly on the snowy sidewalk, making sure not to slip on the icy parts.

as he went, he looked down, analyzing each step he made. it was odd of him and onlookers might wonder what’s wrong with the guy.

though, it simply made sense to him.

if he stepped on a crack in the sidewalk, their mother misaki’s back would break— according to 13 year old kosuke.

taka recalled how they walked to school together every morning in japan. they just moved back recently and their house was not too far from the campus. each day kosuke took his little brother to elementary school and walked himself to his junior high, which was the building right next to it.

takashi had a hard time letting go of kosukes hand when they had to part, clinging to him like 3rd grade was prison.

it certainly didn’t help that takashi was challenged when it came to literacy skills. reading and writing wasn’t exactly his forte— even in both languages. but speaking was a different story.

when it came to relearning japanese, taka flourished. and he was great at math— two things kosuke didn’t get lucky with.

kosuke always just yanked his hand away and told taka to go in because the sooner he did, the sooner they would walk home at the end of the day.

after takashi would let go, suke would jog next door through long hallways and up the stairs to his 7th grade class, always late.

and from their classroom window during lunch, he’d see takashi at recess.

there were many times when he peered outside to see taka wandering around alone, getting a ball kicked to the face, or just sitting by himself on the ground, tracing shapes in the dirt with a twig.

kosuke moved his seat away from the window so he didn’t have to see that anymore. it made him crumble inside and the only way he knew how to deal with any type of sad emotion was to pretend it didn’t exist.

after school, they always had to stay for an hour extra because mom was obligated to come and pick them up. she did sometimes, maybe a few times a month.

but most days, she forgot or chose not to and the brothers would get tired of waiting. they would just walk home when staff wasn’t watching.

“step on a crack,” kosuke sang, hopping over each crack in the sidewalk. “break your momma’s back.”

he sang that for years out of habit, and it eventually became part of their routine. but little did kosuke know, his brother was always behind him stepping on every crack he passed.

it’s not that he truly wanted their moms back to break or anything but he did hold a certain level of hatred for her. it only festered more and more as they grew older.

little mutated takashi lived in his brothers shadow, who was clearly their mothers favorite solely based on genetics.

this mother-son resentment was mutual. it existed in every little aspect of their life. she’d roll her eyes at things he’s said, punish him for not doing anything, laugh at his stutter, and neglect any need he ever came to her with.

a lot of the time, kosuke would get more of something that was split between them. things ranged from food and drinks all the way to affection. but they both got very little.

takashi was forced to sit on the floor if they ever spent any “family” time together. those moments were few and far between, always weirdly accompanied by random men who each thought they were gonna be their new dad. they never lasted more than a few days with misaki.

food and clothes and basic hygiene products were a limited resource at home. it got so bad that kosuke and takashi would walk to the store themselves as they got a bit older and slyly take things off the shelves when nobody was looking.

takashi had… stickier fingers than kosuke but kosukes greed started getting a bit out of hand. he kept handing things to his brother nonchalantly, knowing takashi would expertly tuck it away.

one time they got caught and takashi remembers kosuke mumbling something along the lines of since when did ukai install cameras, that old fuck. aparently they were right above them the week before and the next time they came in, the old man who owned the store had printed out their pictures and put them on the “banned” corkboard.

oftentimes takashi would also need medical attention and misaki would just not bother. it clearly didn’t matter more to her than being out of the house doing god knows what.

still, to this day, takashi is kept out of the loop about what exactly their mother is up to— although it’s not hard to guess. she’s in one way or another affiliated with sex work and substances, things among that nature.

she gets herself into trouble more often than not. which mainly explains why the brothers are the way they are: delinquents.

as takashi made his way back to the bar with his meds in hand, he’s stepping on cracks he sees in the sidewalk through the melting snow.

spring is coming.

by this time next month, most of it will be gone and the tiny bright green spurts of grass will start to peek up through the ground.

the boys will start to get hotter. getting trims to their fur to keep their temperatures under control.

it reminded taka of the time spring came one year— the first year— taunting him with the heat as he went through the most wretched time of his life.

“how did this even break?” taka mumbled to himself as he stood on the top of a ladder in him and suke’s first apartment. the ceilings were high because they (kosuke mainly) thought it was a good idea to spend a ton on a place they couldn’t afford for very long.

he paid the deposit easily but by three months in, they were already up to their scruffs in overdue bills.

and to make matters worse, the apartment wasn’t all that nice. it was a shabby little place with thin walls and cheap appliances. everything constantly broke, including this AC unit that takashi was attempting to fix.

the yukon to them was comfortable in the winter months, especially for kosuke. it’s one of the reasons he forced taka back here.

but spring had arrived and it was unpromising. the warmth stayed in their thick fur, making it nearly impossible to stay cool.

it was their first year here as functioning adults, yet they knew nothing. in fact, it was a wonder that takashi was surviving.

his brows were furrowed and he chewed on the screwdriver he held in his mouth, checking the inside of the unit. there was a switch. heat and air conditioning.

“it’s just that simple?” he said through clenched teeth over the screwdriver, flicking the switch to AC, and rescrewing the cover back on.

once at the bottom of the ladder, takashi was about to pat himself on the back for how easy of a fix that was as he turned it on again. it made a grinding sound for a little and then stopped.

“fuck,” he sighed, tossing the tool onto the floor and not even bothering to take down the ladder. it wasn’t theirs anyhow, it belonged to their neighbor. taka didn’t ask, he just took it from the alley and was gonna put it back as soon as he could, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

the heat in the apartment became unbearable, causing takashi to take his shirt and pants off, making the place messier with even more dirty clothes thrown around.

he was overstimulated, pacing and trying to calm himself. it wasn’t helping that he was coming down from a major high he experienced last week

the mystery pill he took given by some lion he recently met had him glued to his messy bed for a whole night and a whole day. mouth hung open and pupils bigger than they’ve been in a long time. possibly the only good thing that came from the experience was takashi’s ability to jerk off and actually cum. that wasn’t a regular occurrence.

in fact, it was so rare that taka took the opportunity to crank his cock as much as he could, just to make it worth the time. he started off slow, savoring how good it felt to touch himself after not caring for masturbation weeks or even months at a time.

he gripped it and tugged up and down, not even thinking about anything specific— he was just in the moment.

a handful of tissues later, his cock was soft, twitching, and sensitive, the slightest touch would make him shiver. slipping on a pair of underwear and pajama pants make him double over back onto his mattress and shudder.

but was that such a bad thing? not at all.

come midday, taka felt almost completely normal again, apart from the twinge of artery pain that always lingered. he stared up at the cracked white ceiling and took in the silence of their place. not a thing whistled in the wind.

with normalcy came realizing he hasn’t seen kosuke.. in days.

at first it was quiet and peaceful. he may have thought about how grateful he was to not be bothered while he trip-sat himself. but now that he’s back to feeling real, he feels alone.

he feels panic.

takashi attempted to call his brother; it went straight to voicemail. he called again, then again, then about 3 more times before giving up.

sent at 3:40 pm: where u at

sent at 6:19pm: will you come home soon

sent at 6:20pm: bro where the fuck even are you

sent at 10:47pm: suke where did you go

sent at 12:24am: u ok?

sent at 3:03am: i need help

sent a 3:04am: call me back

suddenly takashi sat up in bed. the glow of his phone on his face was “kosu-kun” calling. his profile picture taken just months ago was a candid image of him with a pink party city wig on. it’s so visibly obvious he was caught off guard, but they shared laughs with the wigs.

it represents the seldom moments where the boys aren’t always at each others throats.

takashi answered, sliding the green button to the right.

“hello?”

“taka. what’s wrong.” kosuke said, his emotion unreadable and dull. but he wouldn’t have called if he truly didn’t care.

“n-nothing— where the fuck are you?”

“why’d you text me if there was nothing wrong, you’re wasting my ti-“

“wait!” takashi said before suke could hang up. “just please, tell me what’s going on. you haven’t been home in like.. shit,” taka rubbed his aching eyes. a migraine was coming. “three, four days.”

“uh,” kosuke grumbled, taka could practically see him scrubbing his face like he always does. even thousands of miles apart they were mirroring each other. “mom got into some trouble. she needed help.”

takashi was silent. milions of questions ran through his head but he asked only one after the long pause.

“…are you back in tokyo?”

“..yeah.”

that was enough for takashi to hang up.

it’s been a rough year of living in the yukon again. but back home in japan, where takashi could never go back, everything was the way he wanted. he so desperately missed it there and it was out of the question.

he had a real friend but not only that, a crush. he had his health mostly under control by the time they left. he had a growing career in boxing (give or take his lack of passion for it). he even had an opportunity to go to college.

but suke blew it for him, for both of them.

and now he’s back and taka was beyond envious.

beyond confused.

the whole reason they left was because their mom overdosed. she was no longer their problem after adulthood, suke decided, so he packed up everything (including taka) and dipped back to their hometown in the yukon.

so for him to just go back at the drop of a hat was beyond takashi.

later, he learned it was because she needed money and offered kosuke a place to stay while he made extra cash winning illegal fights.

four months later he got booted and came back home.

the guy walked through the doors of his apartment like nothing mattered. like he didn’t leave his only brother alone for months on end.

he sent money sometimes for rent and called once or twice to check up things. but it wasn’t with care or consideration.

takashi survived on pure willpower and spite. his health issues were at an all time high, he needed a hospital right away, the house was a mess. he was a mess.

but he still walked up to his brother and hugged him. he was tired. not sad at all nor happy. an emotionless tear rolled down his face and onto suke’s backpack.

“what are you doing?” kosuke pushed back, furrowing his brows and looking at taka with disdain. but he softened instantly.

takashi was much skinnier and his fur was unruly. it was clear how badly kosukes absence affected him. in that moment, he decided he wasn’t going to leave again like that ever again— no matter how much he acts like he doesn’t give a shit about him.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbled, tucking in the cross he wore into his shirt.

there were countless eviction notices they had to deal with, along with the process of finding a new place and getting takashi looking at least a little bit more on track.

not a lot of talking happened around the time kosuke came back. it was a really weird and silent era they never talk about.

-

“you should really hydrate!” patrick yelled in otis’ ear, his accent was thick and he held up a water bottle.

otis waved a huge paw around drunkenly, “i got this! im a master at beer pong.”

he tossed the ping pong ball across the table in the sloppiest way, his inebriation clearly affecting everything he did. they found it funny.

they as in patrick, poppy, and kenai.

none of them were nearly as drunk as him, laughing as they watched otis miss terribly. the ping pong ball bounced off the table but kenai skillfully caught it before it hit the ground.

he and poppy were on the same team, opposing their best friends who were paired together.

it was strangely intimate on both sides.

on the one hand poppy and kenai kept making each other smile. it was non stop jokes and pokes and perhaps some flirty touching here and there.

kenai was surprisingly good at beer pong even though he didn’t drink. he and poppy scored balls back constantly throughout their entire game and instead of both patrick and otis having to drink, otis took almost each one— sparing his teammate.

it was romantic in a way, but nobody wanted to say anything about it; otis was someone people always assumed was straight.

“i’ve never seen him like this,” kenai says lowly to poppy, both of them giggling.

“really? not ever? he’s your best friend!”

“i mean ive seen him drunk but not this drunk. and patrick here is the cherry on the top.”

poppy glanced at him— her and kenais proximity was way closer than she realized. she swore she could practically smell the shampoo he used on his fur. “what do you mean?”

“well, look at them. patrick is clearly making him feel great.”

poppy nods in agreement. “i guess you’re right. they compliment each other in a unique way.”

-

kosuke took his time with all the buttons on his black shirt. he left the top few undone and he zipped up his pants, redoing his belt and watching himself in the mirror as he did.

he was annoyed. previously startled but it masked into just agitation. the girl he had in here with her panties around her ankles turned out to be a total mess.

at least to kosuke.

he won’t take accountability for the way she stormed out and will instead most likely call her crazy.

mere minutes ago, kosuke had her on her knees.

the tile floors of the men’s public bar bathroom had to have been downright hazardous but he pushed her down anyway, holding her face gently as he slid his hard cock in her mouth.

it was going good, he was relishing in the feeling and her teeth, sharp as they were, were luckily not getting in the way at all.

she was skilled at this and kosuke found himself loving that, combing his paw over her soft head. he was enjoying himself.

so much so that he groaned.. something he shouldn’t have.

yeah good girl poppy under his breath whilst his eyes were shut. he was in his own world it seemed.

though, this was not private and the girl heard it, immediately pulling off. “excuse me? who the fuck is poppy?”

kosuke blinked open.

his first initial emotion was shame, of course. that was normal. anyone would feel embarrassed after something like that. but kosuke had a tendency to let a secondary emotion cloud over.

anger.

it was his response to any uncomfortable situation and he was uncomfortable a lot. all the time, almost. (aside from when he was with poppy.)

“why are you stopping,” he gritted through his teeth, grabbing a fistful of her fur and yanking her head back towards his groin.

“i don’t k-,” she pushed against his thighs as he slid his cock back in forcefully.

“yeah that’s fucking right— you don’t know, huh?” kosukes aggressive nature was threatening to her, volatile. her attitude worsened when he spat down on her face. “finish the job.”

that was it.

she had it with him.

the woman pushed herself away and collected her things, fixing her dress so her tits weren’t still hanging out.

“fuck you,” she said, quickly leaving so he didn’t lash out again. she may not have known him for very long but it wasn’t hard to understand he was dangerous.

she stormed out, heels angrily clacking against the floor of the hallway on her way to the exit. she muttered something about wolf stereotypes as if she wasn’t a canine herself, wiping her lips.

right as she was about to open the south exit door, someone came in and bumped into her rather harshly.

before he could apologize, the woman shoved him over. “ugh! out of my way, freak.”

she marched out, choosing to ignore to fact that the guy she just crashed into looked highly similar to the guy she fucked in the bathroom.

“s-sorry.” takashi still said, even after the door swung closed.

he pocketed his little orange pill bottle before walking in again, wiping his snowy feet on the doormat, not ready to rejoin the party but he convinced himself to anyway.

he found a good spot on a barstool that overlooked most of his friends. he watched evelyn for a moment.

she was on a drab rust colored couch explaining something to a man. takashi chuckled, she looked belligerent, clapping her paws in front of his face to make him understand something.

evenlyn likes starting debate arguments after trolling straight republican men. it was her thing.

he then looked over at patrick.

what was even happening over there..?

he was hanging by his arms from the huge polar bears bicep, swinging like a kid.

it was actually sort of refreshing to see patrick so playful and happy.

not that he isn’t happy, but a better word to describe patrick would be content. smirks weren’t smiles and the jokes he made and laughed at were usually always at someone else’s expense.

but here he was, having a ton of fun without making someone the butt of the joke. he even had his camera off and tucked away.

then taka looked at poppy. beautiful poppy.

she was laughing as well, getting noogied by the ski instructor. he heard them both say at the same time i love this song! when steal my sunshine came on in the background.

the more takashi watched them, the more he found comfort in their simple joys.

what was so wrong with this picture, he thought.

takashi could make his own assumptions about these two guys, detached from kosukes preconceived notions.

in the car or at home, they would sometimes chat about kenai. it came from a place of jealousy. kosuke brought him up when it wasn’t even close to their previous topic.

something about the guy being a cuck. and he was “so annoying” to kosuke.

and while takashi agreed in the moment..

he didn’t find himself having annoyance or hostility toward the guy.

in fact, he saw the way kenai lifted up poppy’s spirits— contrary to his brother who makes her feel smaller than a bug.

but it wasn’t so easy to just enjoy this.

poppy has something coming for her.

kenai has something coming for him.

they’re not going to get off scott-free, and takashi can only prepare for the worst.

he ordered a beer from the bartender and sat back. right as it came out and he took his first sip, he saw him.

kosuke was far. just coming out of the hallway a good distance from them. he hadn’t spotted them just yet.

taka seemed to watch in slow motion. how his brother noticed and approached the group getting closer and closer by the second.

there was energy beneath the outer surface of his body. it coursed through kosuke and was reflected in his eyes. his physique seemed to reflect how angry and strong he was becoming.

insanity, takashi thought.

kenai, unsuspecting, had his back turned, just having a good time with poppy.

oh fuck.

takashi clambered out of his seat, almost tripping, and bolted to poppy, grabbing her arm and pulling her away before anybody could process what was happening.

if he hadn’t, poppy would have gotten hurt from just being kenai and kosuke’s vacinity— because in a split second, kenai got a wooden chair to the back with enough force to knock him out.

it broke around him, wood pieces flying everywhere and people screaming brought takashi back to reality.

he let go of poppy who ripped herself out of taka’s grip. she was by kenai’s side in an instant, crouching on the ground to see if he was okay.

to avoid being involved in an all-out bar fight, taka went back to the bar counter, chugged his beer, and took his leave.

in the time he did so, chaos unfolded behind him. he heard poppy’s angry voice, voices of their friends getting on kosuke. he felt kosukes anger.

his rage.

more so because he knew his brother wasn’t getting what he wanted. this was a bad situation that he didn’t think through. he never thinks things through.

he was cornered and he couldn’t fight anybody in this circumstance. not with odds like this— not with poppy here, the one person he seems to care about, protecting the guy he wants to tear to shreds.

and so, takashi went home.

[cyupid]

Doing this. 𓆰 (´༝｀ ) 𓆪

1.) We have a lot of collective names, our main ones being Charles and Rook. Also, our system name is "The Cake Shop".

2.) Cakery or system.

3.) Traumagenic.

4.) We used to. I don't know where they went, though. : Two, as of now.

5.) No.

6.) I sometimes find it hard to read…

7.) Simply Plural.

8.) Internal communication. Although some alters communicate by writing or using the chat function in Simply Plural.

9.) Hm. Depends on the member.

10.) Most of the time, I like to think of us as parts of a person. But sometimes we view eachother as sperate people.

11.) Nobody in real life, that's for sure. We're planning to tell our in-real-life bestfriend, though.

12.) Thai and English.

13.) What we should spend our money on…

14.) Libramascfem lithromanic lesbian.

15.) Well… Yes. The closest ones to being CisHetAllo are the male AroAllo guy, Demiboy Hetero guy, Cis-genderless Hetero AlloAsexual girl, and the male AroAce guy.

16.) We're a vampire cupid prince thing… So yes.

17.) Rentry is of our biggest interests… We have a lot, but our main one is .co/rooks.

18.) It feels like… Waking up from a dream…? Little fact, our system used to be named "The Wake Up System" because of that.

19.) I don't know if there's a term for it… (And we're too tired to find it) We're polyconcious, but if another member is also fronting/co-concious, those members will share a concious.

20.) Well… I'm just… there…?

21.) …Secret, but we have 15+ members.

Honor here, Freya has decided that it's okay to share our member count now... It's currently 22. : 31...

22.) Member, (pastry) chef, alter, headmate, headoomf.

23.) We have a lot of majors actually… More than I expected…

24.) Male.

25.) Our Floyd Leech …obsession started because of a now-dormant headmate.

26.) Two romantic and four(?) queerplatonic.

27.) Yes.

28.) Introjects. A little fact, we used to be brainmade heavy, but that changed when the great mass dormancy happened. (As our members like to call it.)

29.) Most of us use emojis, a few of us use names, but some also like to be fancy and use both their emoji and name.

30.) Yes, eight, I think.

31.) Currently, picrew or dress up games. We're in the process of drawing us, though.

32.) Most definetly.

33.) Yes.

34.) Yes, most non-human members are dolls.

35.) Yes, Idol, in specific is the one who uses a typing quirk the most.

36.) We all front, some just front more than others, though.

37.) Yes, maybe… four…?

38.) Tall.

39.) Idol. Maybe K… But that's debateable.

40.) Lyst and Tao get frontstucked a lot. Our dear Tao is currently frontstuck, actually.

41.) Yes.

42.) It's literally a carbon copy of the Sakura School Simulator map.

43.) Realistic and a little bit pixelated…?

44.) Not very sure…

45.) Depends on how we're feeling.

46.) Sometimes.

47.) Yes, a lot slower than in real life.

48.) The shrine.

49.) There's a few stray cats.

50.) Not that I can think of right now, no.

51.) Um… A lot (?) of disorders, maybe…? I don't know of any system stereotypes…

52.) More than half of us, actually…

53.) I can't think of any.

54.) "pk;m new", maybe…?

55.) Lilia Vanrouge, because… He just is.

56.) Can't think of any.

57.) That one part of Echo by Crusher. You know which part.

58.) The ones where if there are two versions of a character, someone will draw those versions… in the same frame. I don't how to explain it… Take the ones in .co/rooks and our Simply Profile icon as examples.

59.) The Doctor, Macalo.

60.) 777

61.) Late 2019, maybe.

62.) Three.

63.) Very much so.

64.) I wouldn't know.

65.) Yes.

66.) No.

67.) See question #11.

68.) Denial.

69.) No.

70.) It's okay to not know everything.

71.) Yes. Not listing, though…

72.) Yes.

73.) Yes.

74.) Yes.

75.) 100%.

76.) Possibly…?

77.) Yes.

78.) Yes.

79.) Sometimes.

80.) Yes.

81.) Can't think of any right now.

82.) Every system term, system flag, system role, etc. maker. We love you guys!

83.) Can't think of one right now.

84.) Neopolitan…?

85.) Strawberry Lesbian flag.

86.) Sour.

87.) No…

88.) Dakota is a splitroject of her.

89.) Rosa.

90.) …Savoury?

91.) We're already a vampire.

92.) Chérie's. So we can be rich.

93.) There's… too many to list right now.

94.) SO CHAOTIC…

95.) Headspace.

96.) Cute stuff, baking, daily routines…

97.) The ability to grant wishes.

98.) Idol would pick the best… Fraise would pick the worst. (AMSO I'M JOKING PLEASE DON'T COME AT ME.)

99.) Noodles…

100.) It's fun to think about myself for once.

#One-Hundred

[pt: #one-hundred]

In order to celebrate 100 days of posting, here are 100 questions for you to answer! You can either answer them all at once, or let others send in the numbers they are most curious about!

Some of them are general questions, others are just really silly and should not be taken too serious. I put a lot of effort into coming up with all of these, so I truely hope you have fun with this!

For simplicity sake, all questions will use the words "System" and "Members".

1. What is your System name and / or the name you collectively go by?

2. Which word do you prefer to use for your System? (example: System, Collective, Constellation, ...)

3. What are your Systems origins, if you choose to label them?

4. Do you have any Subsystems?

5. Do you have any Sidesystems?

6. What is your opinion on you& / your& language and similar types?

7. What methodes do you use to keep track of your System and it's Members?

8. What is your Systems ways of communication?

9. Is communication hard or easy for you (and why is it the way it is)?

10. Do you view yourselves as parts of one person or as multiple people in one body?

11. Who are you out to as plural?

12. What languages do you collectively / one of you speak?

13. What is something you can't seem to collectively agree on?

14. If you have a collective Identity (such as Gender or Orientation), what is it?

15. Do you collectively identify as queer / LGBTQIA+?

16. Do you collectively identify as Otherkin, Alterhuman or Nonhuman?

17. Do you have a collective rentry / carrd / something along those lines? (feel free to share!)

18. What does switching feel like for you?

19. Are you Monoconscious, Polyconscious or something else?

20. What does fronting feel like for you?

21. How many System members do you have?

22. Which word / words do you prefer to use for members of your System?

23. Which age group seems to be the most common in your System?

24. Which gender seems to be the most common in your System?

25. Are there any talents / hobbies you picked up because of a Member?

26. Do you have any in-system relationships?

27. Do you label roles within your System (and if yes, which ones?)

28. Are most of your Members introjected, brainmade or something else?

29. Do you use names, emojis or something similar to sign off messages (and if yes, which ones and why?)

30. Do any of your System members use Xenogenders?

31. How do Members pick face claims?

32. Do you have any Introjects of popular sources?

33. Do you have any Introjects of unpopular sources?

34. Do you have nonhuman Members?

35. Do any of you use Typing Quirks?

36. Do all of you front, or only a selected amount?

37. Are there any Members who can't or prefer to not speak?

38. Are most of you short or tall in height?

39. Is there a Member that is collectively loved by all in the System?

40. Do any of you struggle with being front-stuck a lot of the time?

41. Do you have a Headspace (if not, is there a reason)?

42. What does your Headspace look like?

43. How do Members look like in Headspace? (example: Cartoony, Foggy, Realistic, ...)

44. Is there a reason why the Headspace looks the way it looks?

45. Is it easy for you to enter Headspace?

46. Do you remember what happened in Headspace when you switch into front?

47. Does time in Headspace pass (and if yes, is it at the same speed as in real life)?

48. What is your favourite place in Headspace?

49. Are there "NPCs" within your Headspace?

50. Are there any interesting fun facts about your Headspace?

51. Are there any "System Stereotypes" you fit into?

52. Who of you would be considered the "evil alter"? (in a lighthearted, joking manner)

53. What is your favourite inside-joke with a Member?

54. What is your favourite Plural meme?

55. Is there any character that you headcanon as plural?

56. Is there any show or movie that you believe is a good plural representation, despite that not being its intention?

57. Is there any song that you believe decribes your plural experience?

58. What about an artwork that describes your plural experience?

59. Which Member of your System do you believe to be the prettiest of them all?

60. Do you collectively have a lucky number?

61. When did you first discover your System?

62. How many Members did you know about during your Syscovery?

63. Was accepting your Plurality a challenge for you?

64. How did you learn about Plurality?

65. Where there any signs of your Plurality, if you look back at your past?

66. Do you think your Syscovery changed a lot in your life?

67. If you're out to others as plural, have they ever told you later on that they already thought about it before you realised?

68. What was the biggest struggle during your Syscovery?

69. Was there any big event that led to your Syscovery?

70. What is something you want questioning plurals to know?

71. Are you Neurodivergent (and if yes, how?)

72. Do you have any physical disability?

73. Do you have a dissociative disorder?

74. Do you have any other disorder?

75. Do symptom vary in intensity depending on the fronter?

76. Do you think your disability / disorder has an influence on your plurality?

77. Do you have amnesia of any kind?

78. Are there Members who deal better with symptoms than others?

79. Do your disorders / disabilities influence communication or switching within your System in any way?

80. Does being plural help with your disorders in any way? (example: another Member switching in to take care of the body during difficult times, ...)

81. Which is your favourite plural flag?

82. If you have one, which is your favourite plurality related tumblr blog?

83. What is a fun fact about your System?

84. What is a flavour of ice cream that describes you collectively?

85. Which pride flag is the prettiest, in your collective opinion?

86. If you collectively had to choose between being a sweet or a sour candy, which do you pick?

87. Your body always morphs into what the current fronter(s) look like, would you want this power or not?

88. Is there a Hatsune Miku in your System?

89. Who has been in your System the longest (if you can remember)?

90. If you collectively had to choose, would you rather only eat sweet foods or only eat savoury foods for the rest of your life?

91. If you collectively had to choose, would you pick to become a vampire or a werewolf?

92. Your body is transfered into one of your Members sources, which do you pick and why?

93. If all of you turned into animals right this second, which animals would we find in your System?

94. What would a Minecraft server with all of your Members look like? (example: chaotic, peaceful, laggy, ...)

95. If you could choose between only living in Headspace or only living in Meatspace (real life), which would you choose?

96. What topic would you collectively make a youtube channel about? (it can't be plurality!)

97. Which superpower would your body obtain, if you had to collectively decide on one?

98. Who would pick the coolest tattoo for the System and who would pick the worst?

99. If you only were allowed to eat one food for the rest of your life, but you would have to decide on the food collectively, what would it be and what would the decision making look like?

100. What is the most fun about doing polls and answering questions, in your opinion?