#rereading the books so I can see what else they fucked up

[atrenchcoatfilledwithbeees]

Said it before and I’ll say it again, if you are going to have a big role in producing a book to movie adaptation, you should be required to have read the books beforehand to ensure you don’t fuck up numerous plot points and/or get rid of important characters and their personalities

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 15

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Chan has thought up a punishment for you that doesn't really help your mental state; someone thinks of a plan to help.

chapter warnings: smut! unprotected sex

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings.

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

That’s the sound you get accustomed to a few times throughout the day. It’s Chan, unlocking the door to let himself in. Every time he brings in a tray of food for the two of you to eat, and most of the time you pick at it but you can’t find too much of an appetite. 

The first few times, you don’t talk to Chan at all. You’re completely silent, looking out at the forest through the barred window. Occasionally you would watch his mannerisms or react when he moves something a little bit too loud. Other than that, you make it a point not to speak at all. That’s how it started, at least. 

Each time a few hours pass in total isolation, you slowly become more and more stir crazy. Mostly, you look out the window. Sometimes, you do situps and pushups or practice the self-defense exercises that Changbin and Felix had taught you until exhaustion. You take a few naps. You take a shower. You finish the latest book that Hyunjin let you borrow. Chan visits you for dinner. You do not speak with him, eat your meal in silence, and watch as he leaves. You go to sleep for the night with an empty, hollow and rotting sensation in your chest that you have never experienced before. It might be anger directed towards Chan, but also an empty feeling knowing that you are unable to see Felix, who is in the same house as you. You wonder if he feels the same as you right now. 

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

You wake up to the sound of Chan unlocking your door in the morning with breakfast. You break your silent treatment, finally, though probably more out of boredom than anything else. You only respond to his small talk, tell him that the food is alright. 

The longer increments of time that would pass, the more anger you would find bubbling in your chest. 

“Do you really expect to keep me locked here forever?” you snap at one point. You have just finished rereading The Stranger by Albert Camus for the third time. “You know that’s how people start to lose their minds? Is that what this is? A torture device? Or is it still a sick, twisted ploy to get me to fall in love with you?” you walk around the room, pacing. Your hands are strung through your hair haphazardly as you let out a laugh. “Some sort of Stockholm syndrome to the extreme? You already fucking tried that, Chan! I’m stuck in this house with you, I can’t leave, and it didn’t work. What is your plan here?”

He blinks at you, sitting on your bed and crossing his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.” 

“You… you don’t know?” 

He chuckles and you feel your blood begin to boil. “Well, I mean, I don’t know how long I plan to keep you here. At least until the Heeseung drama boils down. Until I feel confident that Felix is just as broken down about this as you are? I mean, it’s the point of a punishment, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh. “Obviously I know you aren’t going to fall in love with me right now, not like this, yeah? But the thought of you and Felix, it’s so wrong, y’know? So I gotta nip it in the bud.” 

You blink away a tear but wipe it away quicker than he can see. You won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see you cry. 

“I hate you,” you spit. When Chan stands, he closes the distance between the two of you. He swipes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You might want to watch your mouth for now, especially when you’re the one who’s not in control,” he coos. “If you want to start getting your privileges back, you might want to consider upping the sweet talk.” He leaves as a chill racks through your body and the door slams shut, lock clicking into place behind him. 

You’re not quite sure about *sweet talking*, per say, but you suppose you could calm it down with Chan for now in order to get things back to the way they were. It’s really hard, with the way your anger bubbles every time he enters the room, every additional hour that passes. You start to feel delirious, depressed with nothing much to do, sleeping far too much and eating far too little. 

The flowers start to wilt. 

The flowers that Chan had given you for your date. You don’t even know how long ago that was at this point, feeling a bit too disoriented. You watch over days as the petals start to turn brown, curling up into themselves and falling to the floor. It’s only once every flower has finally turned to black that you convince Chan to let you leave your room. 

It’s only to Hyunjin’s room that he lets you go at first. He supervises your visit. You sit on the corner of Hyunjin’s bed and you sit and talk, nodding politely when he speaks. He updates you on Seungmin’s condition, shows you his newest painting (which is stunning beyond belief), and talks about his latest venture to the bookstore. It’s more than he’s ever talked to you at once, and you’re sure he’s doing it because he knows the effects that the isolation has had on your head, but you appreciate it more than he could ever imagine. 

Chan checks his wrist watch, clearing his throat. He tells you it’s almost time for you to go and you can’t help the panicked feeling that bubbles in your chest. You know that Hyunjin notices it too, the frantic look in your eye as you look to him for help, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You wonder if he and Chan got into a disagreement about it, if anybody besides Felix had the gall to stand up to him about your circumstance but it’s unlikely. 

As Chan guides you out, Hyunjin remembers something, handing you a new book as if it were an afterthought. A brand new copy of Wuthering Heights is placed into your hands. 

“I think you’ll really like this one,” Hyunjin muses. “I hope we get a chance to talk about it soon. I purchased this at that bookstore I was telling you about. Let me take you there one day, okay?” 

You smile at him. A true, genuine, smile before Chan takes you back to your room for dinner. Feeling a little more hopeful, you eat more than usual and talk to him more than yesterday. You think he’s expecting you to thank him. You don’t. He wishes you a good evening before he locks you in your room for the evening. 

Something about Hyunjin’s words had struck you as odd. “I hope we get to talk about it soon.” Since you moved in and Hyunjin had started giving you new books to read, although he was always very sure of himself in his choices, you had never really talked about your choices. Even today during your conversation you didn’t talk about Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which you had read a whopping four times since your isolation.

This is why you’re not as surprised when you open the book and you find a note, wedged neatly between page eight and page nine. It’s not Hyunjin’s handwriting, but Felix’s. You can’t help it when your heart picks up and beats against your chest, a smile against your face despite yourself. 

‘Dear Sunshine,

I am so sorry for everything. Each day that I have not been able to see you and that I have known that you have been behind those doors has been Hell for me, as I’m sure they’ve been Hell for you as well. Let me take you far, far, away from this place if you would let me.

If you will take me, if you want this as much as I do, let us leave tonight. Leave your bathroom light on tonight and I will know that it will be okay for us to make our escape. 

Love, LF.’ 

Are you really reading this correctly? 

It was the first night here that Chan took off his belt and whipped you with it just for leaving when he told you not to leave. What would the punishment be if you and Felix were caught? You knew the answer, and you found yourself grimacing as you thought about it. If Chan found out that you and Felix had escaped—and you had a very, very short window of time before he came looking for you, until breakfast tomorrow—he would surely kill the two of you in cold blood.

Felix, was he really to risk it all for you? No questions asked? You knew you were. 

Turning off all lights in your room, leaving just your bathroom light on for the signal and to light up your path, you get ready. You throw on some clothes, a pair of thick socks and a pair of sneakers, athletic pants and a t-shirt underneath a hoodie. You try to dress both light-weight but also warm, easy for mobility in case you have to do some running. And you take a quick nap, since it’s still light out and you’re sure that the plan won’t take place until after nightfall and you should probably be well-rested. 

You’re right. You wake up a few hours later and it’s dark outside. Felix still hasn’t shown yet. You sit right by your door and wait for him. You wait and wait and wait, your heart beating so heavily out of your chest it might explode. You literally have to calm yourself down with breathing exercises several times because you find yourself so worked up. You can’t help it–you’re so nervous about seeing him again, and about the escape, about his plans, though you’re sure he has something planned out. 

After some time has passed, you almost wonder if maybe he isn’t going to show, but you laugh at that thought. It’s Felix. Of course he’s going to show. You have never met someone more true to his word and dedicated. You just hope that everything is going according to plan. And sure enough?

Beep, beep, beep, beep. Click! 

Light from the hallway spills into your room, encasing the darkness that surrounded you. When you jump to your feet, Felix pulls you in for a very chaste kiss. His name spills silently from your lips and you see him smile before grabbing your hand, pulling you into a silent run down the hallway. You can already tell that there is going to be a long night ahead of you, though you’re relieved when Felix leads you to a mundane car, a dark mini-van, and you can’t help but think thank god we aren’t literally running away. 

You hurriedly get into the passenger seat, Felix the driver’s seat, and the two of you drive away. You watch as the house gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror behind you until it completely disappears, and most of your anxiety along with it. 

“You came for me.” you say finally. 

“Of course I did,” Felix says, his voice soft. “I just had to work out the logistics. I’m so so incredibly sorry it took me that long. I hope you can forgive me.” 

“It’s really happening?” you ask him. “We’re really leaving?” 

Felix only smiles. “I did everything I could. I was even able to get your sister out of your house, I sent her somewhere safe where Chan can’t find her to retaliate.”

“Thank you, Felix,” you say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Really, really, thank you.” 

He reaches over the center console and grabs your hand, bringing it to his face to kiss along your knuckles. 

“You have no need to thank me. This is my escape too. In reality, I owe you just as much.” Your heart squeezes at his words. You don’t really understand the weight behind his words but you hope that he will open up to you about them one day. About his past and his history with Chan. You stare at Felix, at the way the passing headlights illuminate his face and accentuate his features, and you just sit there and watch and watch, drinking him in and hoping that you will never have to let him go again. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re expecting to arrive at some sort of hotel/motel, similar to the one you and Felix had shared after the night at the gala. What you weren’t expecting was an apartment building, at least ten stories tall in the middle of a city a few hours away. 

Felix parks the car, a protective hand around your waist the whole walk to the building. He holds you so close you find it almost difficult to walk. The elevator takes you up to the eighth floor, where Felix leads you down the hall. The building looks well-kept, maintained inside, contrasting from its run-down exterior. 

Felix leans over the door, typing a code into the keypad. It swings open revealing a large furnished studio apartment. 

“This place looks really nice,” you admit. “It is a step-up from the motel. How did you…” 

“Chan isn’t the only one that has his connections,” Felix says, sighing as he throws a backpack down next to him. He closed the door behind him, locking it. He walks around the apartment several times, making sure that every window is locked and secure as well. “It’s safe here. We should be able to stay here for a few days before we need to pick up again. But this place is completely alarmed and equipped with security codes. He won’t find us here, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod. You really do trust him. You feel safe. 

“The password for the front door is 0325,” Felix tells you. You don’t know why that action alone makes you want to tear up. You’re not a prisoner anymore. You’re really free. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, shucking your hoodie off of your body. You don’t miss the way his eyes rack over your frame at the way your shirt picks up slightly. How does he still manage to make you blush? “How did you get the code for my door?” you ask him. You had been wondering about it for a while, as there was no way that Chan had given it to him. 

“Hyunjin told me,” Felix discloses. “He was the only other person besides Chan that knew the code, in case of an emergency or if Chan was away and he needed to give you food.” 

“He was the only one?” you ask. “But that means… Won’t Chan know that Hyunjin…” 

“Hyunjin has already come to terms with things,” Felix says remorsefully. “I didn’t want it to go down like this either, but Hyunjin really was willing to make a sacrifice for you. For both of us. Nothing horrible is going to happen–he isn’t going to be killed, but I’m sure the punishment will be brutal.” 

You shake your head, unwilling to believe his words. “I can’t believe Hyunjin would do that for us. I really thought he was loyal to Chan.” 

“At the end of the day there must have been something he found more important to put his trust in,” he smiles. “I think he realized how bad your mental state was after spending over a week in that room.” 

“It was over a week?” you nearly cry. Felix holds you tight to his chest. You don’t cry–you’ve already come to terms with what has happened. When you pull apart, you look into his eyes and find that he has tears of his own that have started to build up. Now that is something that you had not anticipated. 

“I’m sorry–” he starts to say, but you crash your lips into his instead. Your hands pull into his hair and you push your body into his, do anything you can to get your body as inhumanly close to his as possible, so that you can feel every touch of his skin against yours. 

Felix’s hands wander underneath your hoodie, tugging off the material and throwing it to the floor in a desperate show. His hands roam your body, his lips never once leaving your skin. This time he makes it a show to suck a mark into any available surface, licking and sucking dark purples and pinks into your neck, collarbones, shoulders, breasts–any area of skin that was once pristine now has Felix’s claim on it. 

“You’re mine, do you understand? You’re mine and I’m yours.” 

“Yes, Felix, yes,” you agree, letting him push you back against the bed. He towers over you for a second, dropping to his knees onto the floor so that he can pull off the material of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to. You push your thighs together, utterly exposed in front of him but also so aroused by his stare and he grabs your thighs, pushing them apart. 

“Beautiful,” he comments. You throw an arm over your face, embarrassed by his comment. “Don’t hide from me, angel,” he says, kissing the insides of your thighs. “You’re mine, right? Can I compliment what’s mine? You’re not going to hide away what’s mine, hmm?” When you don’t immediately answer him, your chest rising and falling rapidly from his words, you feel a slight pinch come from inside your thigh. You look down at his mischievous face to realize he has just lightly slapped your inner thigh to get a response. 

“N-no, Felix,” you moan. 

“No, what?” he teases, his mouth going higher and higher still, his breath right above your center but waiting. 

“No, I’m not going to hide from you. Yes, you can compliment me,” you reply.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he groans. “Prove it, then. Open those legs wide for me.” And you do. You spread your legs as far as they would go and Felix rewards you by immediately diving in, his tongue lapping at your clit like a man starved. As much as your thighs tremble and shake and threaten to close, you don’t let them. Your eyes stay on Felix, and his eyes on yours. 

Suddenly, Felix pulls away with a pop. 

“What–”

He climbs onto the bed and lays down, leaving you utterly confused before he grabs you by the waist, manhandling you effortlessly by the waist onto his face. 

“Felix, what are you doing?” 

“I want you to sit on my face,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs as if trying to coax you down to properly take your seat. 

“Are you sure? I–”

“Please, just, use me. Make yourself cum, and then I’ll fuck you open on my cock.” You can’t deny how appealing his words sound, and he had already worked you up just seconds ago so you can’t find the resolve to protest much longer. Eagerly, you sit. His tongue prods your entrance, pushing in as far as it will go. You rock yourself back and forth on his face, your clit occasionally catching on his nose, and you find Felix’s hands taking place on your ass to help you find your pace. 

Once you build up a rhythm you ride him in earnest, like nothing matters but him beneath you right now and your climax building up. He knows you’re close when he feels your thighs clench tighter around your head and your back starts to arch back, and your noises have become louder. You do exactly what he told you to do–you use him for your pleasure until you’re having one of the longest, most drawn-out orgasms of your life. 

When you finally crawl off of him, Felix wastes no time before flipping your positions, making your stomach turn with butterflies. He pulls his pants off in one swift motion and you take a moment to look at him in awe, to really just appreciate him and his beautifully toned body despite seeing it a few times before. 

You watch as he strokes his cock a few times, his eyes fixated on your pussy. He pushes forward, and just to tease–intentionally catches the head of it on your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. 

“Felix!” your hips buck up, your legs wrap around him, doing anything you can just to get him to enter you properly. 

“Do you want me that bad?” he asks with a smile, his voice a low timbre in your ear. 

“Yes, Felix, stop fucking teasing me, you know I want you–” and with that, he pushes right into you, fully sheathing himself in one thrust. Your hands come up to push crescent fingernail indents into his shoulders, just to ground yourself from the overwhelming sensation. 

Felix wastes no time before fucking you like he really means it, his hips pulling out to meet yours flush each time. The way his hips roll in a fluid motion into yours has you crying out, wrapping your legs around him. 

“Fuck, you’re clenching me so tight,” he pants. “I’m going to cum soon, baby. Where do you want it?” 

You wrap your legs even tighter around him. 

His hand snakes up to your neck, just placing it there, not even squeezing but it still causes you to cry out with a moan that is borderline pornagraphic. 

“You’re being so dirty, baby. Are you trying to tell me something? You want me to cum inside? Because you’re going to have you use your words to tell me that or else it’s not gonna happen,” he grins. 

His hips snap into yours so hard it’s almost bruising, but you’re so close to your second orgasm that you think you could fall over the edge any second. 

“FELIX,” you finally cry out. You’re sure the scratches you’re leaving into his back are going to leave marks, if not bleed. 

“Fuck, you gotta tell me now.” 

“Inside! Inside! I want you to cum inside, fuck, I love you Felix, please!” you sob. 

He kisses you. Rather, his lips smash into yours so hard you’re not sure what is happening, but you’re cumming so hard it’s blinding. You can feel him still as he fills you up with warm ropes of his cum. 

When you both finally come down, Felix flops beside you and you immediately curl into his chest. He embraces you, his hands stroking unknown symbols into your skin. 

“Did you mean it?” he finally asks. 

You don’t have to ask what he’s referring to. “Yes,” you reply. “I think I’ve known it for a long time.”

“I love you, too.” Felix tells you, grabbing your chin so that he can press another kiss into your lips. “You mean the world to me.” 

That night, Felix looks around the apartment again, making sure that everything is in its place. When you see that there is both a couch and a bed, you make a joke about sleeping on the couch that causes him to quite literally pick you up and throw you into bed with him. You fall asleep like that, intertwined in his arms, not worried about accidentally getting caught and what the consequences might be tomorrow. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You toss and turn. Images plague your mind. A guilt-ridden feeling plagues your gut. 

Minho, who gets anxiety on missions, who wanted to get away from his family and the life of crime from his childhood, but couldn’t let Jisung go alone for fear of what Chan would do to him.

Changbin, who has only wanted to protect his family, but instead Chan has held that over his head.

Hyunjin, who didn’t really know how to find himself after being told who to be, who didn’t know what to do with his life, exploited by Chan. 

Jisung, who has never had anybody tell him that he is good for more than shooting things and a life of violent crime, and had Chan take advantage of that. 

Seungmin, who had only one dream and had it taken away through an injury, was falsely promised by Chan that one day he could get the surgery and recover to play baseball again. 

Jeongin, who turned to a life of crime but was told he could have the money to go to fashion school, all if he would become Chan’s lackey. 

Even Felix, who you’re sure has been through something just as horrible, though he hasn’t told you yet… 

At the end of the day, there’s one common factor in all of this evil. 

You know that you can’t stay here and live a fantasy life, where you get to escape and be free while the rest of them are trapped there and still living in a nightmare. At the end of the day, you have started to develop close relationships with each and every one of them, and you can’t bring yourself to think more about the horrors that Chan continues to inflict on them each day while you get to run away with Felix. 

Picking up Felix’s arm, you kiss him on the head. You feel very remorseful for what you’re about to do, for the amount of mental anguish you are probably about to put him in when everything was finally going to go your way. You wish you could have relished in this a little bit longer. 

Opening up the bedside table, you grab Felix’s car keys and his gun. 

This has to end, and it has to end now. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n: we're getting close to the end! two main chapters and two mini chapters left!! sorry for the delay today guys, I only had this chapter half written i wrote the rest in a coffee shop lol <3

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

@melleus ; @hyun-bun ; @luminouskalopsia ; @leftovercigarettes ; @sabrina-gal-kpop

@ghostedgameplays ; @wealwayskeepfighting ; @meloncremesoda ; @Lovelino23 ; @honeyybbuubblleess ;

@blossominghunnie ; @sunlitangel777 ; @kkamismom12 ; @slaykanejvetsi ; @eastleighsblog ;

@skzskzskzskzskzskzskzzzz ; @k-keya ; @moonlight-sunrise-channie ; @estella-novella ;

@mbioooo0000 ; @lovemepie67 ; @lemonn015 ; @jaeminie-cricket ; @cookiesandcreammy ;

@jchotch726 ; @cookielixie ; @xxeiraxx ; @chuuyaobsessed ; @anime-addictot8 ;

@raspberrii ; @holdontoitwhileitlasts ; @korthbum ; @nxtt2-u ; @drinkingrumandcocacola ;

@changbokkii ; @1810cl ; @sillyhal

[partytillicry]

Ticci toby x Reader // fem reader

these are general dating and nsfw hc’s so beware!!

TW’s: fighting, slight angst, reader is friends with Nina the Killer, & smut

AN: i love toby sm, he’s def my fav creep. this one is a bit 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂. btw this is half reread so there maybe some mistakes here and there

SFW

toby’s bipolar so a relationship with him is hard but you both work your way through it

he never wants to fight but he can’t control it sometimes

he truly does love but it happens

most of your fights are because he gets jealous or he is just upset about something else

you were laying in bed, just mindlessly scrolling on your phone. reading something that you’d forget a minute later. you were broken from your trance when you heard the door open to see your boyfriend walk in. no hi or hello so you knew something was up.

you immediately got up and walked over to him as Toby was taking off his hoodie and mask. you reached over to his hand to hold it and Toby slapped it away.

“are… you okay? you can talk to me, ya know.” you ask him concerned

“get the fuck away from me.” Toby said firmly. your eyes widened, stepping back and giving him. some space. you already knew what was gonna happen next so you just decided to leave

“where the fuck are you going? what? think i’m gonna hurt you or or or or or something? cause i’m ssssssssooOoooOo f-f-f-fucked up?!” Toby yelled. all you did was grab your phone and walk out then booking it to Nina’s room

thats how most of you fights go, he never tries to get physical but it can happen

he apologizes like crazy after, usually with tears cuz he thinks you’ll leave him

and because he’s so nervous and scared, his tic’s are going off like crazy

with all his stuttering, random phrases and sobbing, he’s very hard to understand

you sat on Nina’s floor of her room as she brushed and played with your hair while you talked about what happened. you knew everything would be okay but you were just worried about Toby. you were thinking about asking Slender to lay off on the missions for a while

“look, babes, i know you’re worried about him but you should be worried about yourself too!! how many more fights can you take?” Nina spoke worrying.

“we really don’t fight a lot!! and plus we only do when he’s upset, i know he doesn’t actually want to fight!! you just don’t see how he is after.” you said firmly. it felt weird to defend him but you knew that he wasn’t actually pissed at you

Nina sighs as you pass her a hair tie and she finishes off your braid. you both hear a knock on the door, immediately knowing who it is. you glance back at Nina and she gets up to open the door.

“well hello Toby, i’ve been waiting” Nina says. “you better give her a good apology.” she says firmly but quietly as she walked out. Toby walked in and sat on the floor next to you. you both sat in silence for about a minute.

“i’m so sssSsSsorry, i’m truly sorry. i shouldn’t h-h-have done t-t-that, i had no reason to be maDDd aaaaatt you.” Toby finally spoke up, immediately starting to sob. you sighed, smiling.

“oh baby, im not mad. i know you don’t actually wanna fight.” you said softly. he looked over to you, tears streaming down his dirty face. you cupped his face a wiped away what you could, pulling him into you closer.

“what do you say we hop in the shower, your still covered in dirt and blood.” you said chuckling. all the boy could was nod.

on a happier note! other than the once in a while fights, Toby is actually very sweet but he can get possessive

he’s only somewhat controlling. he doesn’t really like the idea of you belonging to him but you are his

if that even makes sense 😭

he will call stuff like “mine, my love, my baby” etc etc

he’ll let you go out in revealing clothes but he has to be near you at all times

you and Toby were walking around the outside of the mansion (slender wouldn’t you guys leave). you were wearing almost booty shorts and an off the shoulder band tee. Toby thought you looked so cute, he was obsessed with your outfit.

you guys were just holding hands and talking about whatever, Toby leaving an occasional kissing on your hand here and there. it wasn’t that hot out this morning, it was nice. not much wind either. all of the sudden, Toby stopped walking

“what? what happened?” you asked confused. no answer but he let go of your hand and walked up to the corner you guys were about to turn. peeking his head around the corner like a cat only to see Jeff the killer practicing with his knives.

he immediately takes off his hoodie and wraps it around your hips, leaving him with a wifebeater and a pair of baggy cargo shorts on. instead of taking your hand this time, he grabs for your waist

he then starts walking, you following in his lead. you glance over at Jeff then back to Toby and right there, you immediately figured out what was happening. and you couldn’t lie, it was kinda sweet

he’s got a lot of respect for you, and women just in general

like what do you mean you go through horrible pain and bleeding once a month but still have to deal with sexism?

it doesn’t add up for him

he’s always had a respect for women because of his mother and sister being the only reason he actually survived his childhood

he’s always trying to break the gender roles in your relationship

“ no, i can cook today. no, you should be on top. no, im not calling you my bitch. no, ill never call you a bitch.”

he HATES when people call their partner “my bitch” or anything like that

moving on!

bros a cuddle bug

all up and on you whenever and wherever

PDA is his personal favorite

Toby’s top 5 favorite ways to cuddle!:

5: you laying on your stomach while Toby sits on your ass or back

4: him laying on top of you

3: standard spooning (preferably you being little spoon)

2: sitting on your lap or the over way around

1: honeymoon cuddle, which means sleeping sideways and trying to get as close together as possible

it was a pretty busy day at the mansion and Slender had given you chores all day while most of the others were out killing. most of the proxy’s got night missions, which means Toby would be back pretty late. you wanted to be up when he came back so you picked up a book and began to read it.

it was around 11:48pm when Toby came back. he walked into your room to take off his shoes, mask, hoodie, goggles, and leave his axe too. he quickly ran over to you with a heavy breath

you looked up from your book and stared into the boys dark brown eyes. he kissed you passionately, almost starting a makeout session with you. his hands cupped your face as he started kissing you faster. but then he pulled away

“oh g-g-god, i’ve been waiting for that all day. i’m gonna gooOoo showEr, kay? i love you and ill be right back” Toby explained before leaving one more quick kiss on your cheek

when Toby came back and changed into his pjs, he immediately crawled into your arms. he was sat in your lap and was definitely more important than that book you were reading before. you started to rub small circles into his back

“oh love, i’ve been a bit worried about you. i swear, slender needs to stop sending you on these night missions before i get a heart attack.” you said, pressing small kisses onto his face here and there

“babe, i know you don’t like them and believe me, i don’t ether. but please just trust me, ill be okay. i mean slender has sent me on a mission that lasted a week before and i have no doubt it will happen again. these missions are like nothing to me.” the boy reassured you

you smiled, kissing his cold lips passionately. you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. his hands immediately went to your waist, sliding up and down slowly. lets just say you guys made out for the rest of the night

NSFW

this man is a FREAK.

he always makes sure you’re satisfied, you are his top priority

he wants to hold your tits during sex. not grab but just touch ‘em

he loves to involve your tits with the sex. cuming on them, sucking them, playing with them, etc

sucking on them? what kinda freaky shit is this?

he will go CRAZY if you let him suck your tits

toby laid on top of you while pressing small kisses and hickeys on your neck. he wanted to go a little further so the boy let his hands go up your tank top. his brown eyes lock with yours, asking for permission to take off the small piece of clothing

you nodded, cold air immediately hitting your hard nipples. all toby could do was look in awe. his mouth immediately crashed onto your soft boob. kissing and licking around your nipples, little whimpers and whines leaving your mouth

“uh c-C-can i suck them..?”

you nodded and he moved on your sensitive nipples. licking and taking your breast into his mouth the best he could. Toby loved to see you all whiney and overstimulated under him. you could feel him getting harder

he’s pretty average when it comes to size but boy, he knows what he’s doing

toby had an insane porn addiction before you both met and omg, he watched everything

because of that, he will try anything and know how to do it

wanna peg him? he’s already bought the stuff. wanna have buttsex? he’s got lube. want him to eat ur ass? so down and ready.

honestly though, toby loves to just fuck like normal. doggy and cowgirl are his favorites.

“you sure your ready?” toby said teasingly.

“god, Tob’s, just fuck me already”

after what felt like forever, toby slowly slipped his dick into your dripping wet cunt. he groaned as your eyes fluttered closed. his cold, dirty hands began to feel around your thighs as he held you up.

“okay love, im gonna move” you rolled your eyes. his pace started out slow but hard. after a while of fucking once a week, toby knew exactly were all your g spots were. he would tease you a bit by almost hitting it and then hitting it.

you moaned and begged for toby to sped up but he kept his pace. it was slow and painful but god it felt so good. he started to speed up slowly. you moaned and groaned, only making him go faster and faster

he love love lovessss to go at it for hours but only if you’re up to it

and ONLY if you want too

“consent is sexy baby” -toby 2024

he wants to see you begging on your knees for more

on average, you guys are having 3-8 rounds everytime

cum stained sheets just turn him on more

heavy breathing fills the room, toby laying on top of you. his hands rubbed your stomach while his throbbing member was still inside you. as you felt it pulsing, it only turned you on more and more. 

“…hah…b-bAby, do you wanna go again?” the boy said as he pulled out. his hand now rested on your face as him thumb trailed across your cheek.

“fuck yeah.” you sighed out with a smile. toby smiled, quickly grabbing your waist and thrusting back in. a sharp moan escapes your lips while toby grunts

hardcore aftercare everytime

“are you okay? did i hurt you? was it good? are you in pain? do you need anything? do you want anything? do you wanna your put clothes back on? do you want my clothes back on?”

so. many. questions.

he just loves you and doesn’t ever wanna hurt you

he WILL cook you a full course meal. i mean, it won’t taste good but hey its the thought that counts

you moan loudly, coming down from your high. you immediately collapse on top of him while sliding him out of you. chest to chest, your breathing intertwine’s and your body becomes one with his.

“oh baby i love you but i’m done” you say sleepily. your hands run through his dirty, brown hair.

“that-tha-thats okay!! are you alright?” toby says concerned.

“yeah, yeah. i’m just uh tired” you reassured him, still playing with his hair a bit.

he started to rub your back in small circles, kissing your forehead ever so gently. your hands let go of his hair, wrapping your arms around toby’s neck, pulling yourself into him even closer. he breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled.

“oh i love you my darling, a-AAnd not just for sex. your so much more than that, *we’re* so much more than that. of course i-i-i love your body and the way you moan and and and everything else. but i love all of you.” toby said lovingly

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

hi! sorry if you've answered this already, i tried to search your blog and didn't find much, but we all know the tumblr search function is...uh...but i'd be deeply curious to hear your thoughts about Stephenie Meyer's "The Host," specifically re: treatment of the issue of souls' colonization and possession of other species...and obviously, since i'm asking you, an animorphs blog, this, my curiosity is definitely coming from a place of comparison to animorphs, but that doesn't have to be your focus!

from the posts tumblr's search algorithm did grant me, i gather you see it as wanda unlearning the colonizer's propaganda stance she takes at the start of the story, which i agree with!

but i guess every time i read it, i really can't help but feel...unsatisfied? with the way it actually engages with the horrors and colonization of it all?

sort of like, okay, The Host is this one very individual YA romance story in a sci-fi setting, which is obviously different from a heavily-Star-Trek-inspired middle-grade series about guerrilla warfare and is going to grapple with these issues differently...but still! i don't leave feeling satisfied with how it engages with consent of "host" bodies the souls are in, and i don't feel satisfied with how it engages with the souls' systemic behavior!!! but i can't really put my finger on why, and i just...was curious, i guess, whether this was something you had thoughts about.

(full disclosure: i'm asking you specifically because one of my HUGE points of existential dread on my first adulthood reread of The Host was how Jodi never wakes up, and her boyfriend just starts implied-dating the soul who's in her body? or how kids who are infested from birth are just...gone, and they were like "well sweet we can just put Wanda in there, this is a perfect solution!" and that I think hit me so hard in comparison with having read Eleutherophobia--which is, by the way, a masterwork of fanfiction that wrecked me, overwrote canon a little bit in my brain, and I think fundamentally changed how I see the possibilities of writing and narration, so, you know. thank you for that!)

(also like, i know there's different worldbuilding where it's implied most hosts just...go away...but do they actually? because Mel and the Seeker's host are still there, which kind of implies to me that it's more of a problem than the souls want to admit?! and even outside humans, all the memories, and compulsions toward certain behaviors are still there! what makes a person in this universe of Meyer's?! it's kind of fundamentally horrifying?!)

apologies for this extremely long ask, haha, and i hope you're doing well, love your blog, your writing, and all your thoughts!

Oh my god, ALL OF THIS. I thoroughly enjoy the first 98% of The Host. It's a romance novel about consent! Where the characters have to struggle to resolve the plot in a way that gets the permission of everyone in the love quadrangle to boink everyone else, and spends over 500 pages doing exactly that! It's anti-imperialist as fuck! It's got an amazing supporting cast, like every Stephenie Meyer novel! The imagery is unparalleled in its richness and coolness, because Stephenie Meyer! I've written fan fiction about it! I have an extremely normal relationship with Kyle O'Shea!

And then Sunny. And then Wanda's unnamed second human host.

I think that Meyer, either because of romance genre conventions or pressure from publishers, felt she had to write a happy ending. But the book does such a good job of setting up an unresolvable moral dilemma — either Wanda gets to be with Ian, or she does the right thing by giving Melanie's body back — that there is no path to a happy ending. If Ian did as Wanda asked and sent her in a jar to some other planet, romance fans would feel cheated. If Doc did as Melanie asked and let Wanda stay in her body, then the book's anticolonial message would be for nothing.

But resolving it through PARASITING A KID IN A VEGETATIVE STATE? What if Doc makes Wanda a nice robot body? What if Wanda stays in a jar, but Ian finds a way to join her in the jar? What if she and Melanie set up a time share? Uuuuuugggggghhhhh. The Host was THIS CLOSE to being the best anticolonial novel ever written, and then falls on its face inches from the finish line.

Which, aside, is the reason I don't think Animorphs would ever work with a happy ending. "Happy" for the protagonists would never be morally okay in the bigger story.

[hisokamywaifu]

Consort! Denki Kaminari x Reader

~~~

"So...are you gonna fuck me or something?"

You had been relaxing in your library, rereading a book you liked in a plush armchair, when Denki wandered in.

Though he had pretended as if he hadn't come for a reason, you knew better.

But you hadn't expected...that.

You looked up at him sharply, trying to hide your surprise as he gave a barely concealed smirk.

You cleared your throat. "When I feel like it." You gave him a pointed look and he wandered away again with disappointment. (The audacity.)

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your novel.

~~~

A couple days later, you were on your way to your room, when you spotted him shuffling around the kitchen, which was empty at this time of day.

He's puttering around because he has nothing better to do, because you wouldn't take his hint when he gave it. Sure, you're the empress, but shouldn't you care about what he wanted? He knows he's being unreasonable, but he wants you. Needs you.

He's getting ready to turn and leave, to find something else to keep him occupied, when he feels your hands around his hips, grabbing him from behind.

As you grab him, you rest your head on his shoulder, tilting your chin up to whisper in his ear. "This a good time, pretty?"

He gasps at the sudden feeling of your hands on his thin waist, dragging him impossibly closer to you. Arching provacatively into you, he let out a needy whimper. "Always."

You shove him by his back to bend over the counter, and he lets out a wanton moan as he folds submissively beneath your touch.

"Slut."

He rolls his eyes, trying to get a reaction out of you. "I don't think I'm the slut when you're the one pouncing on m~" He cuts himself off as you yank his head back by his yellow hair, and he bucks his hips into the counter.

"That's just it, isn't it? You don't think. You just care about getting off. So why don't you stop being a little brat, and let me get you off like a good little whore." With that, you yank his flowing pants down, revealing no undergarments. "Pervert."

He shivers on the cold counter, feels your fleeting touches along his legs, not straying towards the front like he wanted, but to the winking hole in the back. "Wh-what~"

You shove two fingers in his mouth, pressing yourself to his back. "I don't need to hear anything from sluts. Just lie there and take it."

You don't think he's listening to you. He mindlessly sucks at your fingers, and before he can get too lost in it, you remove them and bring them to his ass. "You do have a cute butt." You mumbled to yourself, not even really conscious of saying it. "Can't wait to ruin it."

Your words become grows as your first finger breaches the ring of muscle, which is clamping around it harshly.

Though Denki is something of a whore, he hasn't really experimented with his ass much other than a finger here and there, and so the feeling of your finger probing in him is a new experience.

"Wait, I don't~" your free hand reaches up to grab his throat, and he immediately quiets down.

Your finger stretches a knuckle into him, and while it feels odd, he strangely trusts you.

You press deeper, and he wiggles at the foreign feeling. Deciding to help with the new situation, you reach to his dick with your other hand, giving it some light strokes to get it to full hardness.

He lets out some purely filthy noises, very high pitched, and you use the opportunity to get the rest of the finger into him.

Once it's in, you keep the hand on his cock still as your finger goes in and out slowly. You discreetly move it around searching for the spot that would make him see stars.

After a couple more seconds, Denki suddenly arches his back and practically melts into you.

"There's the spot." You grin, and thrust into his prostate, as he whines and raggedly pants.

You work another finger into him while he shakes on the counter, and you take the opportunity to rub at one of his nipples, hearing a little mewl come from his pink bitten lips.

Once the second finger is in him, you immediately start to drive your fingers into him, and he can't remember a time he ever felt this full. With each stroke his mind went blank, and he could feel himself sagging onto the counter with your warm presence behind him.

He was babbling mindlessly, and you could tell he was getting close.

You gave his ass a quick smack with your free hand and he jolts. "You wanna cum?"

He nods, immediately, bucking into you as if he could take your fingers even deeper, as his dick leaks onto the marble floor.

You grab his slick cock and stroke with each thrust, and it isn't long before he is crumbling into your arms, cumming with a cry of your name.

As he blinked back to reality, he could feel your fingers slipping out of him, and he felt slightly empty.

But he smiled up at you as you cleaned him up (and the kitchen because you definitely didn't want the cooks to see any leftover...residue.)

"We should do that again sometime!" He looked at you with a goofy yet endearing grin and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh don't worry, we will."

[spoofymcgee]

reread men at arms today and.

god. GOD.

i had to put it down when i got to the scene where carrot kills cruces because it says:

"But Cruces had been standing with his back to—

Vimes looked at the pillar. It was granite, and a foot thick. There was no cracking. There was just a blade-shaped hole, front to back."

throughout the whole book, the idea of a king has revolved around the sword in the stone. colon says, earlier on, that he'd rather have the man who put the sword in the stone in the first place.

carrot does both. he puts it in and pulls it out, right as he's been accused of being the rightful king and he does both in his job as a watchman delivering justice.

not as an empty gesture.

not in front of a crowd.

in front of one man who doesn't believe in kings. in front of the descendant of stoneface vimes. in front of the man who faced down the last king (admittedly a dragon).

vimes notices. vimes tries to say something and carrot shuts him down.

because the thing is is that vimes sees the world like vetinari, as much as he doesn't want to admit it. perhaps not everyone is wholly evil, but everyone has a little bit of terrible somewhere inside them, only for some people it's a very big bit.

carrot thinks everyone is good. everyone, including the people he arrests or kills. there's some good in them, and he believes it, and–usually–so it exists.

which is why vimes, on a fundamental level, can't understand how carrot works; how carrot can see a difference between personal and important z why he doesn't flip out when angua leaves in the fifth elephant.

but he taught carrot how to be a watchman.

taught him that people deserve a right to think for themselves and make stupid choices and hurt each other because that's what makes them able to choose to be good. taught him that justice doesn't come from kings and leaders but from the law, and they are servants of the law, not some overlord.

and so carrot is not the rightful heir to the throne, because the city doesn't need a king. it needs captain carrot, out on the streets talking to people, sitting in the watch house doing paperwork, running across the rooftops.

carrot is simple. he doesn't care what the narrative wants him to be. he doesn't care about the sword in the stone or the proof. he knows how he's going to make the world a better place and what he's going to do with his life.

he's never dreamt of doing anything else.

and this is why the gonne can't touch him. carrot doesn't see all the ways the world can be better. he operates as if it already is, and the discrepancy closes up behind him, or he closes it himself.

and that's. fucking masterful.

[diabolicalworldwriter]

Jesus, I just got to the point in Words of Radiance where Kal is in prison and Dalinar basically says "You're not going to end racism by being radical and acting upset about it. You can't just expect us to treat you like an equal because you're not one. Play nice and maybe the racists will grow to respect you"

I.

Buddy what the fuck

In general I think I've found that I'm... Not as fond of Dalinar as I used to be. Don't get me wrong, he does some great things and he's constantly trying to improve and I appreciate that. Flawed characters make stories interesting and I think Brandon does a fantastic job of writing him. However, he is overly strict and judgemental (Still not forgiving him for hating on Adolin for trying to express himself a bit more through style in ROW; let my boy dress up a bit if he wants), he struggles to accept other ways of doing things (we could look to Adolin again, being "too friendly" with those he commands and Dalinar going "noooo they might respect you less if they think you see them as an equal individual"), and while he talks about how he wants to change how everything works, if someone tries to defy convention in a way he doesn't approve of he shuts them down. (Kaladin pointing out very fair issues with how dark eyes are punished severely and light eyes get away with everything only to be talked down at until he shut up and fell in line, for example.) He wants change and has power to bring it about but won't do anything too radical for it, I guess, and that frustrates me. He tends to support systems as long as they work for his own goals, even if they're still exploitative and deeply unjust, while also complaining that everyone else is being exploitative and unjust. I dislike that he acts like he's doing Kaladin such a favor by treating him as almost an equal. "I'm sticking my neck out by treating you like a human, act civil and don't try to speak too loudly about the injustices yet, you might make the others uncomfortable." Dalinar isn't like other light eyes, he's so quirky and different and sometimes acts a bit less classist and racist!!! Aren't we lucky!! Idk maybe I'm stating my point a bit too strongly but damn. He's giving "yeah I'm a stubborn old man but really I'm quite progressive, I don't even go out of my way to hate crime people"

Words of Radiance, while I enjoy it, is rather difficult to get through because it's just so many main characters who I generally appreciate being awful to/supporting or ignoring awful behavior towards Kaladin and if he reacts they're like ":0000 how dare he attack first" (I appreciate Zahel chewing out Adolin for antagonizing and then fighting Kal in shardplate because goddamn Adolin I love you but that sucked.)

I'm finding Elhokar a lot more unlikeable on this reread as well. He's meant to be unlikeable of course, so good job on that, but Jesus he can be the worst. Honestly standing beside my past thoughts that what Moash did wrong was not in turning on the system that oppresses him and all the dark eyes, but just that he knowingly hurt Kaladin and other people who cared about him repeatedly and severely to do so.

I'm on board with killing horrible leaders (especially if it seems the only way to remove them and stop them from causing harm: people shouldn't have to suffer and die as part of a leader's learning curve and character growth, and going "they're working on it" when people are actively suffering is garbage. I'm still sad at Elhokar's death but I'm not sad that he's no longer king) but I draw the line at abusing and killing one's friends and I am just hoping he comes to terms with what he has done wrong and improves in book five.

Anyways that was long and scattered I'm sorry lmao you should have heard my rant to my poor cousin, I was rambling for like half an hour.

[wiltkingart]

What queer books do you recommend?

oh honey i have a whole rec page here if you're up for anything, but i mostly read adult m/m fiction. lots of weird and old stuff with dark tones more often than not. if you want some specific titles as a flavor list, here's a few favorites! i'll link their storygraph pages so you can read their synopses too:

Fantasy: The Rifter by Ginn Hale (dark fantasy featuring a romance that spans years and time and space in decaying world with a destroyer god, and bones. so many bones. has one of the most interesting and well written story structures i've encountered. very moody and dark, hits just right).

Scifi: Body after Body by Briar Ripley Page (erotic adult scifi novella with transmasc and transfem MCs. dreamlike and grotesque, delicate and stomach churning, it's about a group of mind-wiped laborers tending genetically engineered mutant bodies.)

Historical: The Still by David Feintuch (my book series of all tiiiiiiime. it's fantasy too but mostly medieval military fiction. don't even talk to me about Rodrigo if you're not ready to be hit with a twelve page verbal essay i'm not joking, that is a threat. not a typical romance, expect heartbreak and plenty of it and to never recover.)

Horror: Hexslinger series by Gemma Files (planning a reread of this one soon to see if it still holds up but this series has stuck with me like a fly to molasses. it's a fucked up time full of desperation, Mayan gods and godessess, faggotry, blasphemy, and witchery) go with the Bound in Flesh anthology instead if you want good trans body horror, or Down by Ally Blue for deepsea suspense horror.

Contemporary: All for the Game by Nora Sakavic (you probably know about this classic but for me it still tops most everything else i've read. it's got sports, mafia drama, and trauma). for something a little different (but still traumatic) try Mo Du / Silent Reading by Priest (dark mystery set in China that follows several disturbing cases and the psychology behind them + romance between a detective and a rich pretty boy)

but yeah i talk about books a lot on my personal/main blog @wiltking (in lieu of updating my actual rec pages these days, it seems) if you ever want more real time recs! i'm a book guy. i like books a normal amount :)

[pacific-rimbaud]

i was reading your thoughts on how fans felt about l&oha and while i concur it is a perfect piece of work in my head and have reread it 5x, i wonder if you think fans tend to be harsher/more critical of hermione and let draco slide? i see it a lot in fics where he's more of an alphahole type

Oh, man. Okay. The can is open, the worms are loose. Rant under the cut.

I'm actually going to set men aside entirely. Just. To the side with you. I desperately need more realistically complicated men, too, but that's a whole separate discussion. Right now: women.

There must be whole dissertations out there on the phenomenon of readers hating female characters with negative traits. I'm a fandom old, so I didn't grow up identifying with Hermione, and wouldn't have even if I'd been young enough to. I did that "which character are you" test just now and my top three matches were Janis Ian from Mean Girls, Jughead from Riverdale and April from Parks and Rec, which, massive grain of salt, etc. BUT gives you an idea. I am not a Hermione and never was, so she's never been a comfort character or self-insert for me. Some of my favorite fictional women are Sophie Hatter (mean, irrational, petty, old and mostly loving it), Harrowhark Nonagesimus (evil stick), Phryne Fisher (zero fucks to give). What I like about Hermione is how imperfect she is. I'm a "cleverest witch of your age I've ever met" truther (book!Lupin is absolutely saying "you're the canniest 14 year-old child I have personally met, saying this as a guy who doesn't get out much," not "you are a once-in-a-century genius"), and from my perspective, she's often wrong and often a dick, and not in a fun and fiesty burn-down-the-world BAMF way. Which. Good for her! Be human.

And that's the thing. I personally don't want Hermione to be perfect, I want her to be what I think she is, textually, which is intelligent, hardworking, loyal, competitive, compassionate, controlling, belittling, rude, petty, insecure, vindictive, volatile. She has the right to be that way, because she's human. The desire for perfected women (or unapologetically and unstoppably awful ones, another brand of female power fantasy) is not limited to Dramione fandom. I think it's amplified in DHr by many readers who DO identify as former gifted children, books-as-coping-mechanism kids and Strong Female Personalities who felt marginalized in childhood and want to see Hermione have it all: she's slim, she's tiny, she's fragile as a bird, she'll break your neck, she'll step on your throat, she'll tear down the system, she'll heal all wounds, she does not need help, she holds all the knowledge, she holds all the cards, she is forever wronged, she can do no wrong, her vagina is tight, her nipples are hard, her hair is on point, her waist is tiny, her tits are bouncing, her ass is in the style of Now. And like. This isn't at all unique to DHr and Hermione. It's pervasive in fiction written by and for women. Female power fantasies are obviously feeding a massive hunger. It's just not what I personally want. Personally, I find it alienating and uncomfortable, which I know equates to, "That is wrong and shouldn't exist" to a lot of people, but that's its own tale as old as time.

There's a disconnect that happens too often where a reader wants one (1) thing from their fiction, and receives something else, even when the contents are clearly labeled on the tin. In this case, wanting a female power fantasy and encountering a woman who's written with flaws makes people upset. And maybe if we could be more honest with ourselves about what we're looking for when we read, work to accept that not everyone wants the same experience, and learn to close a book when it's not working for us and say, "No shade, this isn't for me," it would be less upsetting when we encounter a character who isn't written to meet our personal expectations. I will open a book, realize the FMC is a female power fantasy archetype and close it, because that's not what I show up for. I like my women gritty and weird and foolish and vulnerable and liable to hurt people and feel terrible about it. Give me all the exhausting chatterers and evil sticks and jocks with swords and their hearts on their sleeves (their hearts ripped out), give me shy Anne Elliot and her suitcase full of regrets and the ugly fuckup who never has a glow up, give me dirtbag stoners and Fleabag and Alicent Hightower apologetics and every role Natasha Lyon has ever played. It's not a moral high ground, it's about a preference for seeing actual, demeritus flaws on the page and on the screen. Blame that woman. It's her fault. She has so many faults. Then show me how to forgive her so I can figure out how to forgive myself.

The thing is, I love women. I love women so fucking much. I want to be around them, to get to know them, to read about them, to watch them on TV and see them in films. And personally, I like them ugly. Physically. Spiritually. Morally. Give a woman a Bad Personality and watch her succeed in the most self-injurious way possible, fuck you. Give her a gaping chest wound and line it with teeth. Stick a piece of grit in that girl's tightly sealed shell so that a pearl is her only option. Make her love other women, make her fuck it up, make her have to earn them back.

Thankfully I do feel like we're getting more ugly women in fiction, especially BIPOC, queer and marginalized women who deserve gross, weird, nasty representation and not just didactic moralism, patronization and misguided sainthood. Some readers won't want that, and that's fine. Again, personally (it's all so personal, please, please remember that when you hit that comment button), I'm here for it. If you write about women like this, know that you have a thirsty reader here. I'm swallowing them up. I'm smacking my lips. I'm smashing my mug on the cafeteria floor and calling for another.

[just-another-star-47]

Let's dive a little into Dark Magic and how Magic works in Hogwarts Legacy (or the whole Harry Potter world), shall we?

Firstly, I want to say than I love this world, but I don't know every detail about it, because I stopped reading any books of a certain author after reading the Harry Potter books as a teenager (and then reread them once as an adult). So maybe I'm simply not aware of the fact, but I feel the magic system isn't really well explained? Like, why are some wizards and witches more powerful than others?

In my mind, I think to be good at a spell you need to be good in two things:

1. Technique (How you wield the wand, the rhythm of the words for the spell)

2. The visualisation of what the spell is going to do

Let's take the famous 'Wingardium Leviosa' as an example.

To be able to cast it, you have to do the right movement with the wand and just the right pronounciation. But we also know that there is magic without using words or a wand, so it can't be the only thing.

So I think you also have to clearly see in front of your inner eyes, what's going to happen. In this case, how the feather will start to levitate. This would be possible, if you have a creative mindset or simply have made enough experiences to know, for example, how a feather looks and moves flying through the air.

But this gets harder with every spell. Seeing a feather levitate isn't that hard to imagine. But an animal, a chair, or something even bigger?

I think this is how great wizards and witches distinguish themselves from their peers - they are able to visualise even abstract things.

So in conclusion, I think, that means the better you are able to see a spell in front of your inner eye, maybe even with feelings, noises etc, the better the spell is going to be.

This would also explain, why the Unforgivable curses are as bad as they are. Because you have to imagine the pain, the control and the death clearly in your head. To be good at them you have to feel how it is to have absolute control over someone else, you have to imagine how umbearable the pain is, and how someone would look when dead - in every little detail.

This would explain why Ominis was able to do Cruciatus, even though he didn't really want to cause harm, because he experienced the pain on his own - so it wasn't hard to imagine it.

It also shows why Cruciatus from Sebastian on MC wasn't as strong, because he wasn't able to imagine them in that much pain.

And maybe it's just me, but I can clearly see, how this fucks you up, when doing repeatly. To imagine over and over in every little detail to torture, control and murder real people?

Maybe that's why using 'Bombarda' etc to fight isn't seen as bad, because in your head you're just imagine to throw them through the air, or break their leg etc..

I don't know if my thoughts make any sense and I surely have used the word 'imagine' a tad bit too often, but maybe you could see where I'm going with this.

[delcakoo]

stop you're making me want to reread harry potter </3 ravenclaw!won has been stuck in my mind for DAYS

slytherin!reader who's in a relationship with ravenclaw!jungwon and is mean and cocky to everyone except won i am in shambles

slytherin!reader x ravenclaw!won random hcs!! ✧.*

STOP OMG anon this idea made me all giddy insidE i adore the ‘im mean to everyone but you’ grumpy x sunshine trope sANJSHS AND WITH RAVENCLAW JUNGWON AHHHH this is a bit longer than i planned but uh. enjoy JSHSJD

your boyfriend aka the biggest nerd on the planet (ravenclaw moment) doesn’t even see it most of the time

but the way you treat him in comparison to pretty much everyone else at hogwarts is VERY different

you could be like. about to fist fight someone or seconds away from pulling out your wand and hexing a gryffindor’s ass

all 😐😡😡👿👊💥

but then jungwon just

“y/n!!! :D” WITH THE CUTEST LIL SMILE AND OH GOD HIS DIMPLE :(

SUDDENLy every hint of rage and anger in your body just poofs into nothing and you’re just SMILING because there’s your sunshine with his cute nerd glasses and mountain of books

“wonnie!” you let him give you a big hug and the random gryffindor you were about to fight is just 🧌😦 in the distance

“guess what i learned in herbology today!!”

if pretty much anyone else asked you that you’d give them the most disgusted face imaginable and just.

“the fuck would i care? 🤨”

or

“when?”

“uh i think it was last satu-“

“did i ask? ☺️”

listen you’re just a very honest and straightforward person!!

but when it’s wonnie <3?

you quickly take all the books in his arms and lead him away with a smile, “what, baby? tell me all about it ☺️”

and by now a majority of the students in hogwarts knows not to mess with jungwon

because doing so immediately means messing with you too 💗

you’re extra strict on this because in the past your boyfriend did get bullied a lot for well. to put it simply, being a ravenclaw

luckily though, you were able to find out their names 😊😊😁

at first you were going to use magic but.. lets just say your knuckles were sore and bruised for the next week ❤️

doing the damage yourself was so much more satisfying y’know 😍

of course jungwon didn’t find out about all that.. at least you think

though he does get suspicious whenever one of his bullies stop even sparing him a gLance 🤨

when he confronts you, you just say karma did it’s thing and smile evilly 🫶

(little do you know, jungwon can read you like an open book and knows damn well you did it <3 however your cute proud smirk makes him decide to let you have this one 😞)

but if your revenge ambushes ever result in you getting any kind of injury, he’s always quick to bandage you up with a disapproving frown :(((

he sighs while whiping up your bloody knuckles, “seriously, i hate seeing you like this more than anything. why would you do that for me?”

you scoff, completely nonchalant with a small smirk on your lips as usual

you could care less about your fists when in the end, your boyfriend isn’t being picked on

“that’s a pretty dumb question for someone as smart as you, love”

he groans, “no y/n, really! they’re not worth your time, revenge isn’t the—“

“it is. it most definitely is the answer baby.” you grin, he sighs “now stop worrying about me and come give cuddles ❤️”

another thing jungwon gets away with all the time is bossing you around

you fr just take it like a champ every time without a word because only HE can tell you what to do

if anyone else tried to…? 😬😬

for an example scenario. you’re doing a group project in potions with jungwon (<333) and his other nerd friends

being surrounded by so many losers almost had you throwing up but you pulled through for won since you knew he wanted to be with his friends too

this didn’t stop you from being a dick ❤️

“hey y/n, can you grab the frog eyes?” sunoo gestures from the cauldron your group is watching carefully

“didn’t even say please,” you mutter, “who the fuck are you to tell me what to do four eyes?”

poor boy shuts up for the rest of the project T-T

“y-y/n,” jake would stutter nervously, refusing to make eye contact with you, “can you maybe g-“

“ask me to help one more time and i’ll stick that stirring stick up your ass”

but then jungwon sighs, making you frown because wait, is he disappointed in you or something??? :((((

“babe, you’re not contributing at all, go get the missing ingredients on this list at least”

you pout

he sounds so unimpressed :(

of course now you’re feeling needy so you rush to get everything for him and bring a bowl full of the ingredients back with puppy eyes

jake and sunoo are absolutely flabbergasted

but your bOYFRIEND who you thOugHt was an angEl from heaven STILL gives you a disapproving look :(

“thank you, now apologise to my friends please,” he asks strictly

WHY IS HE TREATING YOU LIKE A CHILD IT MAKES YOU SO MAD AND SAD AND GRRRGHH

your frown deepens, trying to lean in for a kiss at least but JUNGWON MOVES AWAY FROM YOU???

“won…”

“apologize and you can have a kiss”

your eye twitches but you’re so desperate

so you turn to those

those two

gargOyles.

and murmur out a “sorry, i promise to help from now on,” without making eye contact once with either of them <\3

at this point sunoo’s jaw almost fell off because THE POWER HIS FRIEND HAD OVER YOU?? popUlarly known as one of the meanest students in the school??????

you dont even wait for their reply (because you frankly dont care) and turn back to wonnie who’s now- UAHSJHSN HE’S SMILING HE’S PROUD OF YOU?!!! :D

you pucker your lips in anticipation and he gives you a dramatic mmmmWAH

after that you’re just so giddy and happy and help by doing whatever jungwon asks and ignore the other two <333

secretly jungwon feels like his heart is about to explode because the soft spots you have for each other is 🫶

AUGHH my favorite trope ever sushjsbsh thank u for the lovely req <3

[minmaxi]

this fic idea has been sitting in my google docs for a couple of months. I'm not great at finishing projects and I'm usually more for something resembling poetry than a story, but I'm posting this as much for me as for a friend who said he's interested to see what I have cooking 😊 (thank you for the encouragement!) and, since I haven't gone to sleep yet, I think we can still call this

FUCK IT FRIDAY

I haven't settled on a title yet, so let's just call this one "the q-word fic," shall we?

———

Buck’s been thinking. Dangerous, he can practically hear someone say; but it's been quite a week, he’s allowed. With Chris back from Texas last week and Bobby finally back in the captain’s chair today, he’s practically basking in the serenity of things going back to how they should be. There's only this 24-hour shift standing between him and 48 hours off, and outside of vague ideas of spending some time with his reunited Diaz boys, he's still not entirely sure what he'll be doing after the shift wraps up in about… 19 more hours, according to his watch? He could swear it's already been 8.

The rigs are all stocked, the supply closet is organized, and he's long given up on finding the clipboard that must've grown legs somewhere between the engine and the ladder truck. Buck's been curled up near the TV, keeping himself occupied with an old YA novel that he's been rereading before he gifts it to Chris. The rest of the team is caught up on their own assignments, too, so anyone else who's not trying to bank some sleep or work out has also gravitated to the loft to settle in.

Adjusting in place, he realizes if he doesn’t move soon that his leg will only get stiffer, and right now’s as good a time as any for some tea, anyway. Setting the book down, brushing his fingers against the dalmatian statue as he stretches up out of the armchair, his mind turns from the new herbal blend in the cabinet back to the present evening.

So far, it's been a qui—

Buck freezes in place.

It's been a while since the last time anyone used The Q-Word in the firehouse, and if for no other reason than some kind of reflex, he won't even let himself think it. That word has bitten him everywhere, every time—from this very station, to a bar in Peru, all the way back to a ranch in Montana—to say nothing of the stories Hen and Chimney have recounted. Even Bobby takes it seriously, even if he thinks it's mostly psychosomatic.

Thankfully, he muses, Ravi learned his lesson from the last mishap—newer probies have been warned since—and everyone else on the A-shift knows better than to invite chaos with such reckless abandon.

"Heeeey, is it my imagination or does tonight seem like it's been nice and–”

Almost everyone.

All eyes turn to Eddie, elbows perched on the counter, hovering over a cup of coffee.

"–relaxed so far?" he smirks, looking up knowingly.

———

p.s. how does no pressure tagging work. I might be overthinking it. please drop in my asks or dms about this. 💜

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading roundup: April 2024

oh my god you guys I've read SO MUCH this month!!! I got BIG into reread N.K. Jemisin's tremendous Broken Earth trilogy and it's been jaw-dropping, and I have been reading a HEAP of comics and manga a

on the extremely off chance there's anyone following me who doesn't think comics, manga, graphic novels, etc don't count as "real reading" lmao lol get out of here??? you're on the Reading 1000s of Pages of Old Batman Comics blog. go feel the whimsy of reading a whole graphic novel in one afternoon and maybe you'll calm down.

ANYWAY!!! what have we been reading?

Earthdivers Vol. 1: Kill Columbus (Stephen Graham Jones, Davide Gianfelice, Joana Lafuente, 2023) - Stephen Graham Jones is one of my all-time favorite authors, and I was super excited to check out his first comic series. Earthdivers takes place in the wasteland of the 22nd century, where four Native survivors have hatched a plan to try to stop the disasters that are killing the world: use a time-travelling cave to send one of their number back in time to kill Columbus before he can launch the colonization of North America. it's a one-way trip, and the time traveler will have to be ruthless to achieve their goal. beyond the attention-grabbing hook of killing Columbus, this story dives (you see what I did there) deep into an exploration of what it means to sacrifice everything for a cause and find the will to be ruthless in pursuit of the greater good. I'm not 100% sure I tracked all of the twisting threads of time travel in this first volume, but the hook is compelling and Gianfelice's art is beautiful, so I'm really looking forward to seeing the series progress!

Spoiler Alert (Olivia Dade, 2020) - at this point I've written 8000+ words about this book on my patreon and it's becoming difficult to figure out what else to say or how to say it briefly. this book ties itself up in knots with its contrivances and makes both of its protagonists look dumb in the process. I don't like either of these people but - spoiler alert! - I still think April can and should do better. Olivia Dade please call me I just want to talk.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 1-3 (Ryoko Kui, trans. Yen Press, 2017) - I don't need to explain Dungeon Meshi. surely you've seen the gifs of Dungeon Meshi. all that matters is that I fucking love Dungeon Meshi, this shit rules and it's going to be so hard to hold off on reading Volume 4 while I try to prioritize some other books first. this world is great, the characters are a delight and a joy, and the way that Kui is so fascinated by the food and biology and exploration of adventurer fantasy tropes in her world makes my brain go wheeeeeeeeee!!! I'm having so much fun.

The Fifth Season (N.K. Jemisin, 2015) - historically I've very seldom reread books, but I'm starting to think that I need to change my stance on that. revisiting the Fifth Season years after I first read it, with the time to really enjoy it and also the maturity and perspective to actually appreciate what Jemisin is cooking, has enhanced the experience immeasurably. a thing that really struck me this time was how artfully Jemisin depicts the way orogenes are conditioned and groomed from the jump to be subservient and scared and willing to settle for life at the margins of society; it's not something that I could totally understand the nuances of when I read this book fresh out of my first year of college. this novel and its sequels are so brilliantly devastating, I cannot say enough great things about them.

My Pancreas Broke, But My Life Got Better (Nagata Kabi, trans. Jocelyne Allen 2022) - I did it, I'm officially caught up on all of Nagata's works that have been translated into English! and man, I'm still worried about her. the experience of reading My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness hasn't quite been replicated for me; I think that was a once in a lifetime event, although I've certainly found a lot that I relate to in Nagata's subsequent struggles to sort of out anxiety, independence, art, and figuring out what kind of relationships she event wants to have in her life. at this point I feel like I'm just reading the illustrated life updates from a friend I haven't seen in a long time who stresses me out because her life is a mess. which is still interesting! but god I hope something good happens to this woman soon.

The Obelisk Gate (N.K. Jemisin, 2016) - The Fifth Season is a book about the end of the world and of one woman's personal apocalypses that happened prior to that. its sequel, the Obelisk Gate, is a book that's extremely preoccupied with the tedium of figuring out how to run a halfway-functioning society in the midst of the apocalypse, which is genuinely fascinating stuff. and it's also a book about the fear and desperation and sheer levels of exhaustion that might drive someone to decide that, fuck it, maybe the world should end and we should be done with all of this, actually. it's also a book about devotion and dependence and destruction and devouring people you love in a VERY literal way, which it must be said is pretty sexy. the stuff that pops off between Essun and Hoa in this book makes me think of Octavia Butler in the best way; I think she would have adored them. I'm so excited to get to the final book and see how this all pays off, because the first time I read it I barely understood a single goddamn thing that was happening.

I Hate This Place Vol. 1-2 (Kyle Starks, Artyom Toplin, Lee Loughridge, 2022-2023) - a short and spooky comic series that wraps up in two tight little volumes. I have some gripes with the pacing, but it makes for a fun afternoon read. a mid-tier streaming service is going to adapt this into a live action series within a couple of years, mark my worms. personally I'm fancasting Mackenzie Davis as Gabby and Samira Wiley as Trudy.

[fruitcoops]

So I just reread the fic about Jules birthday, and I’ve always liked the part where Remus tells Jules that he’ll always be more important than hockey. Could you write a fic about that if you haven’t already? Like Remus leaving in the middle of practice or something like that? Idk it’s up to u:)

Fic O'Ween Day 3: Midnight! Read more amazing works from these prompts at @noots-fic-fests and of course, character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW illness (coughing, mentioned vomiting, fatigue)

Remus leaned against the countertop for support and stared at the floor. “But he’s okay, right?”

“He’s okay,” his mother answered. She sounded beyond exhausted.

Remus nodded and rubbed his fingers under his eye. The night suddenly seemed so much darker. “How’re you and dad? Taking time off?”

“We’re alright.” He knew that low edge to her voice—it was the same one his own took on when he was trying to hide his hurt. Silence fell over the line.

“Mom.”

“Your dad can’t get PTO this week and neither can I.”

She cleared her throat; he closed his eyes. “Can Leanne keep an eye on him?”

“Visiting her daughter in Florida.”

No parents, no neighbors, no way they’re getting a babysitter for a sick kid… “I’ll be on the next flight.”

“Remus, no.”

“There’s nobody else—”

“Honey.” He could see the way her eyebrows drew together in his mind. “Honey, you’re on the road this week.”

“I know.”

“In Montreal.”

“They can handle a couple games without me.”

“You’re practically a rookie, Remus,” his mother insisted. After a pause, she lowered her voice. “You’re not going to damage your career when we can get a babysitter, or—or I can find a couple days off. Hell, your dad’s got a pullout at the office he can rest on.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Remus John, you have a responsibility to your team.”

“Jules comes first.” If there was one thing Remus would stand by no matter the circumstances, it was his family. The Lions would survive a roadie without him. Jules would never be alone and sick on his watch.

His mother was silent for a long time.

Remus picked at a chip in the granite. “There’s no babysitter that will watch him, is there?”

A sigh traveled down the line. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby. Give Sirius my best. Sleep well.”

“I will,” he lied. The call went dead and he turned, bracing both hands against cool stone. Sirius’ footsteps were soft, his hand gentle. Remus sniffled. His chest was a vise. “Mom says hi.”

Slow circles pressed between his shoulder blades. “What happened?”

“Jules got the flu, and they can’t get time off work to stay home with him.” Fucking assholes in fucking corporate. Remus swallowed around the clog in his throat. “Sounds like he’s pretty sick.”

“Does he need to go to the hospital?”

Remus shook his head. The hand on his back slid down and wrapped around his side, guiding him to lean on Sirius’ chest. “Do you want me to book your flight while you call Coach?”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough. He didn’t let go. “God, I hate being so far away.”

Sirius’ other arm came around him and held him tight.

--

Remus and his father talked the whole ride home from the airport, and said nothing at all.

The house was just as he left it at Christmas. No snow remained, and little frost—crocuses peeked out of the lawn where the squirrels had snatched and buried them.

Apologies for the late notice, but due to a family emergency, I will be in Wisconsin until the 22nd. Thank you for your understanding.

Rapid responses. Cranky responses. Remus had tried to keep a level head, even through the tremor of his hands on the computer keyboard. The organization wasn’t happy with him, but when were they ever?

It didn’t matter either way. Fine or not, suspension or not, they weren’t going to stop him from making chicken soup and raspberry Emergen-C for his sick little brother. He was damn lucky to have Arthur on his side, easing the retribution from men in offices who had hardly bothered to meet him at the start of the season.

“Your mother’s worried.”

Remus glanced up from his hands. His father was facing forward, brow pinched while he pulled into the driveway. “Yeah.”

The engine turned off with a sputter. “Be gentle, okay?”

“It’s not your fault they wouldn’t give you time—”

“Be gentle.”

Remus bit the inside of his lip and nodded. A goldfish cracker peered out at him from the crevice by the door. This passenger seat always made him feel so small. He slung his backpack out of the seat well and stepped out, letting the crisp air nip his face and bring him back. He needed to come back more. The heartache had lessened, and distance was simply exhausting now. Running fast and far to Gryffindor had seemed so smart before.

The front door still squeaked when he turned the doorknob. Remus was glad for that, at least.

His mother smiled when she saw him. “Hi, baby, how was your flight?”

“Hey, mom.” It was good, he started to say, only to have the words fall from his mind the moment she stepped around the kitchen table and wrapped him in her arms. It’s been a lot I love you I missed you how are you where’s Jules—“Uneventful, thankfully.”

“Good, that’s just the way you want it.” She gave a little sway, one hand cradling the back of his neck. He felt a light pulse of pressure. Her back, ever tense, relaxed slightly. “It’s so good to have you home.”

Remus breathed deep. Lemon-scented cleaning spray and drugstore shampoo, laundry detergent and just-sharpened pencils. He pressed his nose tighter to her shoulder and felt her squeeze him, just a little. “Missed you.”

“Oh, Re,” she sighed. A hand rubbed along his spine for a few hard, grounding, wonderful seconds. Warmth seeped in around his edges. The floor was solid beneath him, the walls sturdy. A kiss found his temple. “Baby, we missed you, too.”

A rattling cough made him wince. “Jeez.”

“I know.” Her face crinkled into a grimace when they separated and she looked back down the hall. “That started up two days ago. Poor thing. Keeps him up at night.”

“Aw.” The cough was followed by a rough throat-clear that made Remus frown. “Fever and everything?”

“102, as of this morning.” Hope ran a palm over his shoulder, the way she tended to right after he came home. Remus tried not to think about that too hard, or else he made himself sad. “You’re sure about this? You could get sick. It’s the middle of the season.”

Remus tried for an encouraging smile. “My immune system’s great, mom. I’m in good shape, I take my multivitamins. Eat my Wheaties, and all that.”

“Hmm.” She scrutinized him for a beat. “You better be.”

“I’m basically indestructible.”

Her laugh bounced off the corners of the house like it always had. “Let’s not get hasty, hon.”

“Mom?”

Remus’ heart sank.

“Dad?” Jules croaked, a little louder. “Did the neighbors come over?”

“Hey, J,” Remus called. The floorboards gave a light groan when he set his bag down at the end of the hall. “It’s me, bud.”

Silence followed. The bathroom nightlight was on, casting the hall in gentle blue. His hand drifted toward the first door on reflex (cool metal knob, lock on the inside, jimmy it three times in the winter when the frame sticks), but he managed to step past it and knock lightly below the ‘J LUPIN. DO NOT ENTER.’ sign scotch-taped to the old wood.

“Jules? I’m opening the door.”

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Stale, sweaty, feverish—Remus did a double-take without meaning to.

“Jesus Christ, dude.”

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” Jules rasped from somewhere to his right. “Hey. Hi, why are you here?”

“You slept too long. It’s June. I’m here for the summer.”

“Hey.”

“You’re sick, dummy.” Remus tried to be subtle about propping the door open wider with a loose hockey glove. “I’m taking care of you.”

With the new, faint light from the hallway, he could see just how terrible Julian looked. His unconvinced squint didn’t help the sallowness of his skin or the heavy bags carved under his eyes. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh, you have a roadie in—” Another hacking cough interrupted him. It shook his tiny frame hard enough to make his knees bend under the covers. Remus’ heart gave an acid lurch.

Agitated heat radiated off him to the point that Remus could feel it when he perched on the edge of the bed. The sheets were a tangled mess; one blanket half-tucked, the other mostly on the floor. “Deep breaths,” he soothed when the coughing turned to a few aggressive sniffles. “Take it easy.”

“Montreal,” Jules finished in a mutter. He wiped his nose on the edge of his baggy t-shirt (almost certainly their father’s, with the way it dwarfed him) and laid back with a long huff. “You got a roadie in Montreal. Dad ‘n me are gonna watch the game.”

“Dad and I.”

“Shhh.”

He smiled to himself and tugged the top blanket down to shimmy the next one into position. “Well, you and I can watch it. How’s that sound?”

“No, you need to play,” Jules groaned, but even that was weak. He curled onto his side and peeked out of his huddle, dull-eyed and flushed. “How come you’re here anyway?”

“Told you. I’m taking care of you.”

“But hockey.”

“But you.”

“But…hockey.”

“But you.” His stomach gave a little pull. “You’re more important than a couple games, bud.”

Jules didn’t look like he believed him. “…okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re R—”

“Don’t you—” Remus bit back his words (and his grin) and whacked lightly at the outline of Jules’ legs under the blankets, coaxing a crunchy sort of laugh from him. “Watch it. I’m in charge of feeding you for the next few days.”

Jules’ giggling trickled out with a last sniff. “Mom and Dad gotta go to work, huh?”

“Yeah.” The wrinkle of his nose was almost certainly reflected on Remus’ face. “But hey, we’ll have fun.”

“Mmm.”

The air shifted, along with his gut. Jules’ breaths were heavier. His eyes, lidded. His forehead was far too hot against the back of Remus’ hand when he checked it. “Tired?”

“Mhmm.”

Wrapping him in a dozen blankets and cuddling him as tight as possible wouldn’t help. Logically, Remus knew that. The temptation was still there. “Too hot?”

“Warm.”

“Want me to take a blanket?”

Jules shook his head. His eyes were closed fully now. “Weight’s nice.”

Every inhale hitched when Remus rested a hand between his shoulder blades, feeling for his pulse. That, at least, was calm. Jules had sweated through the old grey fabric there. He combed a few strands of hair off his burning brow and swallowed around his dry throat. “Want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“Gonna nap.” Jules’ twitched, as if he was trying to readjust but lacked the energy. “Here when I wake up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be here.”

--

The evening passed without issue. Night rolled in with a gust of wind that hissed across the windowpanes while Remus dried the last of the dishes. Jules had managed to get up and come to the table for dinner, but he had looked even worse in the brighter light and barely ate half a bowl of soup. He could see their mother struggling not to fuss over him, not that Jules had any oomph to give real protest.

What kind of family emergency is this, Lupin?

A family emergency. I can come back the 22nd.

You’re missing two games. Do you understand that? Weasley won’t play you for the third, either.

I understand.

Is this a funeral?

No.

A wedding?

No.

It’s a request for nonvital time off, then. This could very well result in a fine.

I’m aware of that. Time off for a family emergency is covered in my contract. I’m permitted to miss four games.

Are you really going to put in a request for this? For a nonvital midweek trip instead of two NHL games?

That’s precisely what I’m requesting, yes. This is an emergency and therefore it is vital.

Remus had not missed the bureaucracy of the NHL during his time on the ice. There was still administrative irritation, of course, but it had not been nearly long enough since he played email tag with someone determined to make his life harder. ‘Nonvital emergency’. It made him want to laugh and lose it at the same time. What a fucking joke.

A sudden rustle and thud—likely Jules’ elbow hitting the wall between their rooms, ouch—startled him from half-sleep. Clumsy footsteps pattered on the floor; a door creaked and closed, quickly followed by a dry heave. Remus winced in sympathy.

This bedroom felt too small. His feet touched the end of the bed if he stretched out. There were only a few inches’ allowance for his shoulders on either side before he hit a wall or the edge of the mattress. Even his stuff felt smaller, as if the books shrank in his hands and the trophies had been made for someone Jules’ size.

He supposed they had been. Juniors was a world away, these days. He had turned the idea of keeping a potential you-know-what ring here instead of in Gryffindor, but never really committed one way or another. That, too, felt far off. He was stuck in the middle of a spectrum, where nothing felt quite right.

The toilet flushed, but he didn’t hear Jules leave. The low timbre of their father’s voice buzzed in the hall for a second; he didn’t catch Jules’ response. Remus swung his legs over the side of the bed with a huff and stood despite the creaking protests of his knees.

The blue light looked eerie in the cover of real night. He propped Jules’ door open again as he passed. A little ventilation couldn’t hurt. He paused in the doorway of the bathroom and crouched down, lowering himself to the cool linoleum with a soft groan. “Sup?”

“M not gonna throw up again.”

“Okay.” Remus flexed his ankles against the cabinets and tilted his head back. The soft towels buffered him from the wallpaper. Next to him, Jules’ forehead was stubbornly pressed into the crease of his elbow where he rested it on the toilet seat. “Still sick?”

A wordless mumble answered him.

“I’m gonna make chicken and dumplings tomorrow.”

Jules weakly raised his head. “Really?”

“Yup. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch. All that good stuff.”

Quiet fell over them for a long moment. “What are you talking about?”

“What, you don’t want a science lesson?”

“Nerd—”

He knew it was going to happen before Jules’ first jerk forward and caught his side when he wobbled, giving gentle pressure until he was upright. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay, I got you.”

“Ugh.”

“I know. You’re doing great, J.” It was over as fast as it started. Jules trembled lightly under his touch, sweaty again, all too warm again. His knuckles stood out in harsh midnight shadows where he gripped the porcelain, thin arms shivering.

Jules sniffled. “I wanna go to bed.”

“I bet.”

“I’m tired.”

“Can you stand up?” It took Jules a moment to even start moving; when he did, it was sluggish and unsteady. Remus hovered his hands close and resisted the urge to scoop him right up. Jules wouldn’t like that. He hated being babied. It was still fucking hard to watch him pull himself to his feet.

A rinse-and-spit and a cool washcloth on the back of his neck made Jules sigh. He leaned right into Remus’ hip, head at the base of his ribs, and staggered along on foal legs while Remus guided him back to bed with a lump in the base of his throat. There was no fuss about being tucked in—he simply sighed again, so content it hurt. Remus smoothed out the hem of the comforter by his neck just one more time, once more, just so he could be sure.

--

Their parents were out by the time Remus woke. He distantly recalled the sound of them leaving, but the plane left him groggy enough not to notice or care. Jules was still snoring loud enough for him to hear it through their shared wall.

Breakfast, then. Something light. Oatmeal or eggs, if he could keep it down. Broth, if not. Remus would have to check the fridge for Gatorade and lemons.

It was strange to be functionally alone in the house. The carpet felt too soft, the curtains too still. A bright pink sticky note was stuck to the table with his name written in big letters at the top. He’d check it later.

Message To: SB <3

Morning :)

Fever’s still going, nasty cough, the works. I’ll keep an eye on him today.

Miss you

He clicked his phone off and set it aside—hopefully, Sirius wouldn’t be awake for some time yet. They didn’t have practice for two more hours in his time zone. He liked to sleep in on days like that. Remus, on the other hand, had work to do.

Quick eggs and bacon for himself took fifteen minutes. He parked himself at his usual seat without really thinking about it, pulling a dish towel and a fork from their drawers with an absent mind. He hadn’t dared to check his email yet and seriously contemplated leaving it alone until he was back in Gryffindor. Time off was time off. Professional hockey wasn’t big on ‘work from home’.

Jules shuffled in half past ten and made a beeline for the couch.

“Good morning.”

A grunt answered.

“Sleep well?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Want oatmeal?”

Jules’ mumble seemed vaguely affirmative. Remus set the kettle on and dug a pot out of the cupboard, then turned to rummage in the pantry. This was setting up to be a silent morning.

Measuring for a sick preteen was almost as strange as picturing his childhood bedroom as a normal size. Remus had only cooked for himself for years, then himself and Sirius, with the occasional potluck dish for a team dinner or holiday party. A single cup of anything was a novelty. “Want sugar?” he checked once the oats and milk were simmering. Jules snuffled in response, dragging one of the knit blankets further over his head. “Lemme check your temperature and then you can tell me, yeah?”

“Mmkay.”

A quick search of the medicine cabinet revealed no thermometer, and the same went for the hall closet. Remus spent a good five minutes riffling through the bathroom drawers and Jules’ desk before he found it propped against the base of his dolphin lamp. It had been left uncapped; gross. He made sure to give it a thorough wash before moving back into the living room.

“Blanket down.”

“No.”

“I can’t see your mouth. C’mon, just for a second.”

“Cold. Bright.”

“Twenty seconds, J. I promise. You can count.”

The blanket lump shifted. “Twenty?”

“Fifteen. Then I’ll bring your oatmeal over and leave you alone.”

A handful of shallow breaths filled the silence before Jules’ forehead poked out, then his glazed eyes, and finally the lower half of his face. Remus grimaced. His nose was red and chapped from tissues, and a faint crack split the side of his lower lip. “Have you been drinking your water?”

“Fifteen seconds,” Jules slurred.

Remus knew he wasn’t getting a better number than yesterday. Not with this vague lucidity, and not when Jules was hardly able to hold a fragment of a conversation. All the same, it made his gut sink when the thermometer beeped.

“Whuzzat?”

“102.5.”

“ ‘S worse?”

“Yep.”

A resigned nod told him Jules expected as much. The blanket swallowed him up again. Remus pulled it down over his feet before heading back to the kitchen.

Three hours passed with all the rush of a snail on codeine. Jules rallied to choke down his oatmeal before going down for a noon nap, let Remus rouse him to gulp down about a gallon of water, and overall remained sedentary while Remus channel-surfed for anything even slightly interesting on daytime TV. They settled on NCIS from one to 2:30, NCIS: Miami from 2:30 to four (with a brief break for sandwiches, or toast, in Jules’ case), and rounded it out with NCIS: LA while Remus tossed some rotisserie chicken and chopped vegetables in a simmering pot of broth.

“Re?”

“Yeah, bud?” Bisquick puffed over the side of the mixing bowl in a soft cloud.

“My stomach hurts.” Jules’ voice wavered. “And my mouth feels weird.”

Fuck. “Bathroom, hustle.”

The glimpse he caught of Jules before he vanished down the hall confirmed it: pallid skin, dilated pupils, sweat gleaming on the back of his neck. Remus rinsed his hands in the sink and dug the box of Pepto Bismol tablets out of his bag, and sent a silent thanks to whatever small mercy it was that left him without a reactive gag reflex.

He spent twenty minutes sitting sideways with water seeping into his pants from the bathmat. “I’m gonna throw up until I die,” Jules whined, pressing his forehead to Remus’ palm.

“You’re not gonna die. Definitely not while I’m here.” He slid his hand around to press against the nape of Jules’ neck and gave a light squeeze. “You’re almost done. Work it out, buddy.”

“Gonna miss the game?”

Despite the sweat, despite the illness, despite it all—Remus smiled. Of course Jules would be thinking about that when he looked like death warmed over. He wouldn’t be a Lupin with anything else on his mind. “We’ve still got half an hour.”

Jules gave a faint push back into his hand. His lower lip wobbled. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

“I don’t—” His voice cracked, but it wasn’t even slightly funny. He took a shuddering inhale and sniffled again, harsher. “I don’t want to be sick anymore, I don’t, I’m so done, I don’t like it.”

“Jules…” The redness had flooded his cheeks and ears, inching down his neck with each horribly choked breath. Jules’ eyes were bright, but not like usual. He blinked and a drip tracked down his nose. His exhale wasn’t much of an exhale at all—it wracked him, made him sway. “Oh,” Remus murmured. “Oh, hey, c’mere.”

The edge of thirteen had left Jules gangly, all bones and joints. He still fit just right in the hollow of Remus’ chest and arms. A shivering, overheated mess, but a mess that fit all the same. Fuck it, Remus thought as he tightened his arms around Jules and let him fall apart in the safe dark. He didn’t care if he got sick. This was the most vital emergency he could possibly think of. If the administration had a problem with that, he’d happily turn his gear in before leaving Jules to burn through this alone.

“I’m tired,” Jules whispered through shuddering breaths. “My head hurts ‘n my stomach hurts ‘n everything else, too.”

“I know, bud, you’re being so brave.”

A damp, wounded noise made Remus wince.

“But hey, you haven’t thrown up in, like, five minutes.”

Jules felt around blindly for a tissue and blew his nose several times before answering. “I guess.”

“You ready to get up? Have some dinner and watch the game?”

“Dizzy.”

“Okay.” He pressed the wrinkles out of Jules’ shirt with his palm and felt him go limp. “I brought some super special secret hockey medicine, if that’ll help.”

“…is it Gatorade?”

“No, but we have that, too.” He rattled the box next to Jules’ ear. “Pepto Bismol. My secret weapon.”

“Nuh-uh. That’s the pink sh—stuff.”

“Nice save,” Remus said dryly. “This is the same. It’s easier to keep down, though. And it works faster.”

“Makes my stomach stop hurting?”

“It might help.”

He waited a beat, then two. A clammy palm extended from the tangle of limbs near his middle. He dropped two of the chalky tabs into it and loosened his hold by a degree, enough for Jules to pop them both in his mouth and frown immediately. “Yuck. It’s crunchy.”

“Keep chewing.”

“Why is it coming apart like that?”

“Keep chewing,” Remus repeated through a light laugh. “Doesn’t work if you talk the whole way through.”

Jules tucked his legs closer to himself, pushing him further into Remus’ lap. As horrible as the past twenty minutes had been, he seemed better for it. The fevered sheen to his face wasn’t quite as nuclear. His breathing sounded more even and controlled.

“You finished?”

“Mhmm.”

Jules might have looked better, but Remus didn’t have the energy to fight the coddling urge this time. He slid his free arm across the back of Jules’ knees and hefted him up like a cat gone boneless, and received no protest whatsoever. Instead, Jules curled into him with a long, relieved sigh. Remus’ heart may have shattered a little.

The pregame show was just wrapping up when he set Jules gingerly on the couch and pulled the blanket around him. Half of his waterbottle was gone in a few desperate swallows; Jules wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and all but collapsed onto the throw pillows, a heap of exhaustion. The belltower by the middle school tolled six. His sandy hair was damp at the root when Remus passed a hand through it. They’d fix that eventually. Fluids first (hockey first), then everything else.

New Message From: SB <3

Heading to the rink. Miss you love you : )

Remus smiled down at his phone as he set Jules’ bowl on the coffee table and folded himself into the armchair.

“Tell Sirius I say hi.”

“He’s literally right there,” Remus laughed, gesturing at the TV. “He’s not gonna see it for ages.”

“Still.” Jules poked around with his spoon for a few seconds before attempting a small sip of broth. An approving nod followed. “It’s good.”

“Glad it meets your standards. Eat. Protein, veggies, sodium, starch.”

Jules’ eye roll was weak, but very much present. “I know, I know.”

“You gotta know that stuff.”

“I’m not gonna be a doctor.”

“Yeah, but you’re still gonna be a person.” Remus cut a dumpling in half with the side of his spoon. “If you don’t know how to feed yourself by the time you move out, I’m totally making fun of you.”

“Whatever.”

They both booed when the Habs skated out, and cheered when the Lions appeared soon after. Jules couldn’t muster much more than a rough whisper, but the soup and a bottle of Gatorade seemed to help. Remus made him get up and stretch during the first period intermission (to immense complaints, but eventual acquiescence) before letting him rest while he washed up in the kitchen.

New Message From: SB <3

First period up.

How’s J?

New Message To: SB <3

Haha yeah we’re watching

Temp’s high, still pretty sick. Getting better tho

Made soup

The response was almost immediate. Remus’ heart skipped at the thought of Sirius glued to his phone even after a rough period, just to chat with him.

New Message From: SB <3

Oooo jealous

New Message To: SB <3

Yeah you should be

It’s a real rager up here

Miss you. Go get ‘em.

A simple heart and hockey stick emoji followed. The grey bubble cycled for a moment before disappearing. That would be the midgame meeting. Remus was glad to be home—wouldn’t trade this—but he had to admit the hockey ache was still there. Even easy choices had consequences.

By the time he looked back, Jules was asleep. Remus checked his forehead as delicately as he could and was pleased to find it slightly cooler than that morning, if altogether too warm. The pattern of creaky floorboards laid a map in his bones as he moved through the house: first to open Jules’ window, then to let his blankets air out, and while he was at it, he may as well wash the sheets. The nightstand and bookshelf needed to be wiped down. It wasn’t hard to get that done while the washer rumbled on the other side of the hall. In the meantime, the soup had cooled enough to pack up in Tupperware to stack in the fridge for later. Who knew if Jules would suddenly get his appetite back? The kid was a bear when he was hungry.

He lingered for the end of the second period and swapped the sheets into the dryer at the start of the third with a cookie and a cup of Emergen-C for himself. He damn well better not catch whatever germs Jules had percolated from the hellscape of middle school. Sirius had called him ‘stubbornly healthy’ on too many occasions for it to be disproven. Besides, the administration might actually fire him if he came back from an emergency and was immediately out for three more games.

“Re?”

The sound of a quiet voice took Remus’ off-guard in the last few minutes of the third period. “What’s up?”

Jules shifted around until he could prop his chin on the throw pillow and blink blearily at Remus. “Did we win?”

“Game’s still going. 4-3, Lions.”

“How much time?”

“Just under five.”

Jules attempted a whistle, though it came out as more of a shaky breath. “Almost there.”

“Dad texted. They’ll be home in a few, traffic was rough.”

“Oh, okay.” A small smile lit his face. He burrowed back under the blanket. “That’s good.”

“They’ve been asking about you all day.”

“Did’ja tell them I was fine?”

“Something like that.” Sort of. Maybe. He had been gentle about it, at least. Gory details would only make them panic.

He made sure to poke Jules awake for the last minute of the game before shepherding him down the hall to brush his teeth and shower. It was only 8:30, but Remus felt weary all the way to his core. He made Jules’ bed while the water ran and tried to tuck the sheets in along the wall a little deeper this time, just in case one tried to end up on the floor again. If he had the time, he may as well do it right, pinched fingers notwithstanding.

It was all worth it when Jules trudged back into his bedroom and threw himself into bed, only to gasp aloud. “Aw, man, this is great.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus laughed.

“Oh, wow.” The bumps of Jules’ feet kicked happily under layers of fabric and down. “It’s all warm, and cozy…”

“Get some sleep,” he reminded him, and turned out the big light. “If you need anything, I’m right next door.”

He made it halfway across Jules’ carpet.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“You—” The faint outline of Jules’ head was backlit by his lamp. Remus could see the shadows of his hands fidgeting with the top blanket. “Will you…can you tell me about the soup stuff? The proteins and all that.”

Remus hesitated. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Jules said with a surprisingly enthusiastic nod. “It sounds cool.”

“I mean—yeah, sure. Uh…” Jules’ desk chair looked wildly uncomfortable for this time of night, so edge of the bed it was, he supposed. The sheets provided a nice cushion when he sat. “Okay, have you ever heard of macromolecules?”

“That’s a made-up word.”

“It’s what you’re made up of, actually. How about DNA? You know that one?”

--

Lyall opened the front door with a muttered curse for the bitter wind and the worse traffic. It was brutally unfair that the one day he tried to come home early, everything went to hell and kept him an age and a half longer. What kind of karma came after a father trying to get home to his sick kid?

“It’s awfully quiet,” Hope remarked behind him. The door opened at last; warm air rushed over them. “Boys? Are you up?”

The NHL postgame show was playing at a low volume, next to a plate with crumbs on it and a mug so old the pattern had washed off it. One of Hope’s blankets from her knitting phase was haphazardly piled on the couch. The evidence of both of them there, present and accounted for and safe, plucked at his heartstrings. “Why do I feel like this is exactly where they sat for the entire day?”

She shook her head. “Good for them. I’m jealous. Remus? Julian? Are you home?”

Remus’ bedroom door was closed. The bathroom fan was still on, and steam clung to the corners of the mirror next to a still-damp towel. It couldn’t have been long since they went to bed, then. Lyall pushed Julian’s bedroom door open wider and covered his mouth with his palm.

They had nearly rendered each other invisible, save for Remus’ legs stretched over the side of the bed and Julian’s arm resting atop his pile of blankets. Julian’s congested snoring drowned out the heavy, even rhythm of Remus’ breathing. As far as he could tell, only one of them had actually been prepared for bed.

“Oh my goodness,” Hope whispered at his shoulder. Her grin was radiant, even half-covered by her palm. “I don’t want to move them.”

“Re’s going to wake up with one hell of a side cramp if we let him sleep like that.”

“You do it, then.”

“…no.”

Hope scoffed fondly and tossed her hands in the air, then kissed him on the jaw as she stepped deeper into the bedroom. The whole place felt lighter, Lyall noticed. Julian had been holed up in here for two days, refusing to come out for anything but necessities. Whatever Remus had done, it worked wonders.

“Remus,” Hope singsonged in her quietest voice. She shook his shoulder, soft enough that for a moment, Lyall forgot Remus wasn’t a toddler anymore. “Baby, you need to wake up. It’s bedtime.”

“ ‘M asleep,” Remus mumbled without opening his eyes. “In my bed.”

“This isn’t your bed, lovey,” she laughed. “Come on, up you go.”

“Goin’ to sleep, promise.” His eyelashes fluttered, nose crinkling. “Talking ‘bout—‘bout proteins. Jules wanted to know.”

At the head of the bed, Julian didn’t show so much as a hint of waking. Lyall stepped forward and braced his hands under Remus’ arms, then hoisted him into a sitting position as gently as he could manage with the unexpected weight of an athlete to counterbalance him.

Remus jolted, startling into consciousness. “Woah—”

“Shh, shh.” Lyall helped him stand on clumsy legs and guided him to the door with a last playful glance at Hope. “I’ve got you, buddy.”

“Fell asleep.” Remus blinked hard. “Jules’ bed. Wanted me to stay. Time is it?”

“Almost nine.”

“Oh, god, ‘s early.” A yawn overtook him, spilling more of his weight into Lyall. He didn’t seem to know where his own feet were, but he went easily into the room next door.

“Alright,” Lyall huffed as he helped Remus stumble toward the bed and splay over the mattress. That old thing was definitely too small for him these days. Funny, how times changed so rapidly. That same bed used to make Remus look like nothing more than a pile of sheets. “Brush your teeth?”

A drawn-out snore answered him.

Lyall smiled to himself in the darkness and ruffled the back of Remus’ hair. “Night, Re.”

A single socked foot twitched in response. That was good enough for him.

(Jules’ fever broke the next morning. By the end of the day, he was well enough to go with them to the airport and give Remus the fiercest goodbye hug either of them had experienced, with a pinky-promise that the Lions would win the next game he played.)

[personasintro]

ITS ME AGAIN.

2/2

I would like to express my genuine and serious opinion about MH and the relationship between Y/N and JK. Let's start with the fact that this book needs to be reread few times, to understand better the dynamics between the main protagonists. I'm convinced that reading it one time it's NOT enough to understand what's actually happening. MANY and MANY people comment on it about JK seeing Y/N as a fuck buddy at this point, and nothing more. That he will never see her as a potential girlfriend. The first time I have read it, I got really annoyed and frustrated about this slow burn, like many others who write you these annoying asks. I thought that after so many chapters, basically nothing really happened, that he wants her for sex only. HOWEVER, when I started ready it for the second and third time then + read MH JUNGKOOK'S POV, my jaw dropped, because I began seeing and understanding things I never noticed before. My perspective of the situation COMPLETELY CHANGED . Now, I don't know if you study psychology/are interested in it, or if all of this is just a coincidence made up me and my analysing everything habit, but rereading it carefully, we can notice how well, subtle but clear you're trying to portrait the feelings of both of them towards each other. Let me explain it better.

(THIS MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS) Correct me if I'm wrong, but now that my perspective changed, I see MH JK as a guy who basically craves for reciprocated love, cuddles, attention and mostly important, who can't stay single or alone for too long. Not because he's desperate, but because he's a hopeless romantic who likes to give and receive love. The thing is, if in the very beginning I found very annoying his obsession with Kiko, now I think I understand what actually happened. He is attached to her for the good, old memories she brought him. He wants to bring the nice feelings he had back. In which he truly felt loved and understood by someone. But this doesn't mean he needs specifically Kiko. He loves her, is attached to her, but it's not the same as before. Sometimes we want our ex back because we want the good memories with them back and not specifically them now. More specifically, we want their old selves with us because we romanticise the memories a lot, but in reality we don't want to be with the person they are now. Does it make sense?

Why am I so convinced about this? Because of the fuck buddies deal thing. If he truly still loves Kiko and wants nobody else, in his mind NEVER EVER would have blown up the idea of having sex, and more over, REALLY ENJOYING it with his best friend. If someone is THE ONE for you and you're 100% serious about them, you don't act like a freaking husband with your bff. You made very clear his feelings by his actions. His actions and words speak for himself. He's attracted to Y/N right now, mentally and physically. He doesn't have romanticised old memories with her, so this means he's living the moment NOW and the feelings towards her are new. I can't say he's in love yet, because again, if you're in love you don't go to your ex. However, I'm truly convinced that in the last chapters we can absolutely tell he likes her now. Seriously likes her, but still denies it to himself, because he deeply knows that Y/N is his dearest best friend. It would be messy to date her, because this implies ruining the friendship in case something goes wrong and also she is in his main group of friends. Can you imagine breaking up with her and seeing her in your homies circle? And not having her as your beloved best friend anymore ? Hell no. And mostly important, she NEVER explicitly said to him anything about even the slightest possibility to want him a boyfriend. The dude basically automatically suppresses the thoughts about dating her, because unconsciously he knows it's not worthy and that he still receives the love he craves for from Kiko. She's basically the "comfort zone". Why risking to lose it to try dating someone who doesn't guarantee you anything (for now at least) . But objectively speaking, his words and body already behave like they are almost in love. I'm 100% sure that if Y/N confesses now, he would accept right away to date her. He's too whipped for her. Can't say the same about Y/N, who is the less considerate about her own feelings. No, SHE IS, because she overthinks it A LOT, more than him, but she's worse than him in suppressing the feelings for the same reasons. She tries to gaslight herself even when she perfectly knows it , and she literally goes to tue swimming pool.

that's it for now. I have more things, but let's stop here.

-July

HI you again!

This will be nothing new for some readers, especially to those who have been here from the beginning and has read my responses for quite sometime now (you guys can skip this response because you probably know it all by now hehe) ; you're right. I think too that for some people, it might take more reads to understand the little things that are not so obvious. Again, I'm gonna repeat myself but MH is a story where you should read between the lines. Not everything is clear and obvious. There are little easter eggs throughout the story. It causes people trying to get answers directly from me, since they haven't gotten it in the story. But I do not want to spoil anything, I prefer readers knowing the real stuff from the story. Until the story is not finished, I'll keep my mouth shut and enjoy the chaos 😁

I actually did study psychology, had it as a subject in my school and it was my favorite one. I think my writing mirrors me. I do tend to get very deep and analyze certain situations and people. I think that's what's happening in this story as well (and in my other ones too). That's a very good guess you made here!

It is a very interesting take that you have of him and the situations in the story! I cannot confirm nor deny. All I can say is that Jk really did love Kiko. I've seen in my life people that started hooking up with someone else after their break-up. That's how some people cope with it. Or even if they're fine after break-up, mostly men, think of sex a lot. It's a part most of them do not let go. So in this case, I wouldn't exactly say he didn't love her because he came up with the idea of them hooking up. We all know it was way deeper and complicated than this. It's also fine to enjoy the sex with someone that isn't your partner + when you're still heartbroken and love with someone else. He was surprised himself that he truly enjoyed it. But then again, he didn't exactly tell her to have sex. It's something that happened naturally and overtime. It showed off the beginning of their chemistry.

You've made some good points! I truly liked this analyzation (it's one of the best things about writing, to receive long messages/ask with analyzation!!) and I enjoyed reading it very much! I do have to stay neutral though and I hope you understand that 😁 Thank you again for this message/feedback. It was truly fun to read (I did read it the first time when I was on a walk with my dog and I tried not to trip 🫠). I had some cool responses prepared but I forgot them lolol but I think I covered everything I wanted!

Thank you, sending you lots of love and a huge hug, July! 🩵🫶

[swordfright]

do you have any c!awesamdream fics recomendations?

Honestly, I don’t have a ton of recs. c!awesamdream fic is mysteriously hard to find, and I also wouldn’t want to recommend you anything super E-rated in case that’s not your jam. Personally I’ve had more success searching the Sam & Dream gen relationship tag than the slash tag. That said, here are my no-brainer recs, most are gen with some exceptions:

inosculation by @theminecraftbox - canon compliant, reflection on how their relationship progresses during the prison arc, how c!sam’s authoritarian tendencies bloom in pandora, and the weird symbiosis he and dream achieve. technically not a slash fic but like it is To Me!!

saltwater on rock by @elmhat - also not technically a slash fic but it is a fun exploration of their relationship post-prison: who are they to each other, now that they aren’t prisoner and warden? what power has dream reclaimed, what power has sam ceded? or is it the other way around? fun stuff.

the trees deny themselves nothing by @lookinghalfacorpse - if you’re asking for recs you’ve probably already read this one (it’s basically THE awesamdream fic at this point) but i think it lends itself to re-readability! and if you haven’t read it: dream loses his leg in pandora, phil n techno conscript sam to make him a new one after the jailbreak, things get interesting. OP also wrote a post-fic oneshot which you can read here.

everlasting evermore by @elmhat - incomplete atm and also not slash but definitely awesamdream vibes. sam is a sad widower king who interrogates dream in his dungeon so it scratches the fantasy itch. this fic does some cool things with the cloning lab lore and i’m really excited to see where it goes!

21 steps in the desert by @airrec - banger. it's short so i won't describe it in detail. banger tho!

scream eureka by @cgogs - basically a post-canon domestic horror fic, sam and dream are married (with a kid on the way) but neither of them is able to move on from pandora. this fic deals with issues of bodily autonomy very well and it’s also refreshing to see trans pregnancy handled with tact, rather than treated like a fetish or a joke. IIRC this fic is an AU of an AU so be warned, it does come with like 30 pages of background lore which isn't necessary to understand the fic but does make it easier to follow.

all these lives by @lookinghalfacorpse - reincarnation drabble, plays with sam’s obsession in fun ways. not really sure how else to describe this one but i reread it sometimes! it’s good!

you don't have to be like that by @dr3amofagame - incomplete, i haven't reread this one in a while but i remember enjoying it at lot! dream gives sam the book in a moment of desperation and then has to navigate the fallout.

accident by @airrec - another fave. concise, fucked up, and very well written.

i’ve also been working on a multichap awesamdream fic (am i allowed to rec my own fics??? is that too cringe??) that’s gonna be wrapping up soon. pandora's vault gains sentience, that's the whole plot. like most of the other works on this list, it’s not technically ship fic but it is very much about sam and dream’s...situation. full warning tho, it’s long and rambly and weird, sorry for that!

i also wanna add that pretty much any fic that explores the scrapped lore is gonna have to deal with awesamdreamisms by necessity, owing to the nature of, well, the lore. there's a decent amount of fics about it, here's one that I found recently and enjoyed a lot.

Have fun, mind the tags. And if you find more then by all means, feel free to add to this post! I know there's a lot of tumblr-exclusive content floating around out there that can be harder to find than stuff on AO3.

Also, it's worth mentioning that some of the most compelling c!awesamdream content I've read were brief interludes in fics about much broader subjects in the fandom; I've read a lot of great c!awesamdream moments in c!rivals fics, prison trio fics, c!dnf fics, etc. So my advice is to cast your net wide, if that makes sense? Happy reading!