#uni has just been my focus these past few weeks

[twelvedinos]

How's it going yall.

[sunshine-theseus]

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

-

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

-

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

-

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

~

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

~

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

~

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

~

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

~

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

~

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

~

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

~

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

~

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

[munsons-maiden]

A little life update explaining why I've been so absent for the past few weeks - I'm moving! 😍

We've been trying to find a new apartment since my husband broke off contact with his abusive parents who live just around the corner from us. The proximity to them has taken a huge toll on both our mental health and since his father has a history of trying to physically intimidate me my own therapist has made it very clear it would be unsafe for me to leave my apartment on my own. The living situation has made our lives hell for the past eleven months BUT WE FINALLY FOUND A NEW APARTMENT that's even better than our old one, and far away from these people. For the past few weeks I've been busy preparing for the move which will happen in October but all my uni assignments are done for the semester which means I'll have more time to focus on writing again 🖤

[becausesomething]

A cold heart cannot be warmed (Law x Reader)

Sinopse:

After the worst generation has conquered the long-awaited new era, the long-awaited future arrives for everyone. Where dreams can finally be realized and lived. However, there are hearts that are stuck in the cold of the past, which not even the warmest love is capable of melting.

WC: 2K

Relationship established between Law and Reader. It unfolds after the new era has been conquered and established.

"You can leave it, I'll finish cleaning the kitchen", I take the cloth that Sachi had in his hand and continue what he was doing. However, both he and Penguin didn't like leaving things half done so they finish what they were doing, leaving only the tables to clean.

"I'll take the food to the captain, he forgot again" Penguin was starting to place some plates of onigri leftovers on a tray. I let out a loud sigh "If he's hungry he'll show up, it's not like we're still in a fight against time, he might as well remember that his crew still exists...", unfortunately the words end up coming out in a slightly more aggressive tone than I liked. "Calm down, we know how he is, he just gets lost in his own world", he continues what he was doing but Sachi stops him, and then comes to meet me and puts his hand on my shoulder "Tomorrow we will arrive in Lvneel, we will be on land will bring good things" I grab his hand and look towards them both, in the vague hope of finding some comfort from the loneliness I felt, before returning to focus on what I was doing "How many times have I heard broken promises... I could understand when we had the objectives until the new era arrived, and after a lot of effort and struggles we manage to see this new world". I feel their eyes on me and that feeling that once again caused unnecessary concern, "Sorry, I'm just tired, and you know how I get when I spend too much time inside the polar tang. Go and rest, when I finish this I'll take you him what you prepared Penguin". In unison, they say see you tomorrow and don't forget to rest, and leave that space, lefting me alone. I sit down heavily in my chair, slump onto the table, and let out the sounds of frustration.

It has been 2 years since the crew was almost annihilated in the confrontation with Blackbeard, if it wasn't for everyone's quick action and teamwork to save Law and escape. After a few months, we met the Straw Hats again and a new alliance was formed to defeat him. 1 year ago, Luffy became the pirate king and we lost the race to find the one piece. However, no one could be sad because that person was the breath of hope that the world needed. And in a matter of weeks more changes began to happen within the crew of the heart pirates.Ikaku discovered she was pregnant, and with Hakugan they decided it was time to settle down, start building a new life, dedicate themselves to their new family and went to live on an island in the South Blue. It was a huge celebration with the birth of that girl, who was going to be a disgrace for her parents, it also meant a farewell that weighed heavily on everyone's hearts. 

This was followed by Uni's unexpected wedding, which was the result of falling in love at first sight, and it all happened so quickly that it left everyone amazed that he would give up everything for love despite knowing that it was always what he secretly believed and wanted. Jean Bart was the last to follow his own path, after being inspired by Usopp's stories and seeing the island of Elbaf with his own eyes.

My relationship with Law matured, and we spent so many nights in the room or on the deck, when we weren't submerged, talking about our own future, all the challenges we went through, after seeing cycle's close and trying to deal with the departure of the companions who were our family. It's something that brought us even closer together and fought readjustment. However, he managed to remain even more distant than before, spending days locked in his office with books and research, looking for the best island that the heart pirates could call their own. I tried my best to bring him to reality and I know that he saw and heard me, until he entered into that cycle again. No matter how much effort, affection and understanding he showed, I felt that it was often in vain and I needed something concrete and solid."Let's find an island and start building our future, maybe our own family, the time has come", those were the words that echoed in my mind, that kept the fire in my heart alive, that kept me fighting for what tomorrow would bring us.But no island was enough. We continued to be pirates in an era of conquering a name that we already had, but with each mission that appeared, it was where he put all his effort into compensating for the emptiness that sometimes weighed on the submarine. We continued to follow our captain with the same passion, but those words changed something in me. I wanted to experience the future that we could only dream of a few years ago, but that now was finally possible.

The sound of a chair being dragged next to me and a warm hug bring me back to reality. His arms wrap around and pull me against him, "You're lost in your world again, what's the reason this time?" I wanted to scream that it was him, but the words were stuck in my throat and an unexpected cry took over. I comfort myself in that hug, in an attempt to stop the tears that are already falling. "Why are you crying, sweetie? Did something happen?", I squeezed him tighter before placing a light kiss on his lips. "I'm here in a wait that never ends, being understanding and like everyone else dealing with the silence that came with their departure. My heart screams for the future you promised but that is never good enough for you", the fingers wipe away my tears, making my body shiver with that touch that I fell in love with, in the same circumstances I found myself in now. "I promise it will be the last island we visit and then I will make a decision", the look was sincere but I could hear the uncertainty in his voice, however it comforted me that he came looking for me and hugged me.I could protest those words, but we would get into an unnecessary conversation again, and I wasn't the only one who knew because it seemed like he was reading me at that moment. "What do you say if we go to the control room and expel Bepo?", he raises his eyebrow, that malicious smile appears, my weak point where I wasn't able to maintain my position.

That person to whom I gave my heart and who showed and helped me reach my potential as a crew member and wife of the death surgeon, was now in front of me arguing with Bepo. He explained it in the simplest way and without going into details to leave us alone, but you could see the veins of the little patience he had, and no matter how much time they shared, he wanted to maintain his friend's innocence. "Bepo, we want the space because we're going to make love with that magnificent view", the pale skin turns red and the hands quickly hide the features in the cap, while Bepo just puts his paws on his face happily and smiles to leave the space, but before saying some of his aye-captain to Law, leaving him now even more frustrated. "tsc, can't you be less direct?!", I grab his hand and pull him towards me, like the first day I met him I kept getting lost in those grey eyes "You know I don't, besides it's not that the reason we came here and you asked to leave us alone?" He returns the attack and grabs my waist "I need you!", his lips close to mine with a determination to only let go again to breathe as needed.

We had spent the last four days on the island, and I honestly felt like this place had always been my home. The characteristics of the island, the climate, the different cities reminded me of the island where I was born. The residents welcomed us from the moment we set foot on land, which only increased that feeling. Our name lived up to us and with those smiles, I knew that our legacy would go continue in history.

I was returning from the city along the paths laid out in the forest when in seconds I found myself on the deck of the Polar Tang thanks to his room "What took you so long? We have to leave in a few hours" I place my hand on his face and intertwine our fingers with the other "I need you, but I am no longer able to postpone a future that you don't want to come... For me, it has arrived and we are anchored in it. Law, I love you, and I know you love me too. In all the conversations about the future, I really wanted to believe that it was what we both wanted, but your actions say otherwise. Nothing will ever be enough because deep down you don't want to be stuck in one place or really build a family with me, because you're afraid that everything will disappear in a matter of hours and you'll be alone", shock takes over his features but I feel him squeezing his fingers and that confirms the words. "It's okay, I understand. Facing change is anything but easy, however, our friends who we consider family are choosing their own path, as they were always supposed to. I will never forget...", "No, it's not okay! Don't even think about finishing that sentence... I just need more time to consider, find a place for all of us", "This choice isn't up to you, it's up to each one of us" I hug him and give him time until he separates us.

"I need to experience the reality that you have always told me about, both in the past and in the future. My decision has been made", I held back the tears with all the strength I had left. Obviously I didn't want our story to end there, but I also couldn't stand being aimless and what I wanted not to be taken seriously."Don't leave me. It's true, I'm afraid and I'm terrified every time we stop on an island because of what happened now. You are my strength, and the one who always made me look forward. Please...", he grabs my wrist and forces me to look at him, which makes me can't take it anymore and my body gives in to the emotion "I have to think about myself. You're here, but loneliness has also started to take part when you go in search of excuses that only exist in your head. I can't stand feeling this way and having to hold on to the moments when you remember that I exist" I try to let go and calm the crying that made me feel like the worst person in the world. "This is hard enough, but I've always been honest with you", "Is this really what you want? Staying here?" In one of his affectionate gestures, he wipes my tears and leaves a heavy kiss on my lips, before hugging me "You are the woman of my life, I really love you for the person you are".

Promises that he would after those words were made but never fulfilled. Days gave into weeks, which became months, and ended up years. The heart pirates continued to exist, being a family that met from time to time, but without their captain who made the choice to isolate himself from the world.

It was Corazon's love that made Law become a death surgeon, it was the passion he experienced with the woman that he thought we would share his life forever, overcome the greatest battles and ghosts of his life. But both were still not enough when it came to facing the fear of a past that had left marks on a heart, which was in a closed safe in the office of a yellow submarine that continued to sail aimlessly.

Find more stories here and here xoxo

english is not my first language, even thought I use it more than my native tongue. I try my best to adapt it 🫣

[agirlandherquill]

a little update straight from freshly dried ink

goodness me it's been a long time since i've been on writeblr - since early January I believe, and yes, it has been a long time, but I can tell you all now, with a great, big, stupidly wide smile on my face - that my time has been spent on important things, i've not just forgotten about Tumblr and let my blog go to waste (hell would freeze over before I ever let that happen),

my past month has been spent on things i couldn't update anybody about until they were done - and i can finally tell the wonderful world of writeblr that ruin's reprisal is done! final proofreads are complete (yes it did take me a long, long time to get through, but hey, juggling writing and life - especially at the start of semester 2 at uni - is an impressive skill i've been working on ever since I first found myself trying to write and I'm still learning the balance, even after years in the making) and i've got a fully finished off draft, if i can even call it that anymore, sitting in my files, and it's a day I never did think I'd get to, not considering this book has been around four years in the making, but I did it! it's done!

and another little update - truths, my little story I started on the 1st day of the year, ended up being around 3/4 complete by the end of January, which I'm very shocked about - I never thought I'd have it in me to create this story so quickly, and now that the week I took off writing it to focus solely on proofreading ruin's reprisal has finally paid off, I can get back to it! and i truly cannot wait to share more of truths and a few other things I have in store (which I'm not sharing quite yet, dear reader, you'll have to wait, but not for long, I give you my word)

but, to focus on the main point to this post - ruin's reprisal is done, which means... (insert drumroll if you will) i get to move onto the very final, polishing details - coming up with a blurb (the BANE of my existence), and more exciting things too! such as announcing a release date (soon, but tbd. ((deadlines be forgiving))) and creating a cover! (which I am both very much looking forward to and am equally terrified about) but for now, I can leave you all with a few stats about the book! Ruin's Reprisal is composed of 220,354 words, 566 pages, and 42 chapters (plus a bonus one i'm very excited about including since it's a glimpse at another character's pov during a very crucial scene - you'll understand come release, trust me :)) and who knows, there may be a little game full of teasers up my sleeve, we shall see, but for now, thank you for being a part of this journey and keeping my writing going writeblr, it means more than I could ever say to do it justice - keep writing and i'll speak to you all soon! ~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :) p.p.s im finally getting around to updating it, so bear with me :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies @a-mimsy-borogove @the-letterbox-archives @corinneglass @darkluminosity @kuebiko-writing

[bohnsky]

Honestly after Qatar I was anything but motivated to post, so here it is for Qatar and Texas.

I literally still feel sick thinking about what the drivers had to go through just because Qatar has money. It physically hurts me. I'm honestly just glad that everyone is okay now.

That being said here are my favorite drivers 5,5 months into liking f1:

1. Alex Albon

As always, my beloved. This guy made me support Williams in the first place and now they have become my second favorite team (after Ferrari of course, because I apparently like pain). It sometimes feels like they're the only one's who really care for their drivers.

In Texas I was really stressed out like what do you mean 0,3s away from the points in the sprint race? And what do you mean 11th in the race?

2. Sergio Perez

Checo is the sweetest, I love his smile so much and it felt good to see so many Checo fans over there in Texas, not only haters. He was doing okay this week, but Lewis is getting closer and closer and I'm scared. I just need him to be good in Mexico, otherwise I'm going to quit watching F1 (I would never but please Checo please)

3. Lewis Hamilton

This was a hard decision. But I've been obsessing over Lewis again these past few weeks so he gets 3rd for now. Even though him being good literally tears my soul apart. I want him to be good, but he's a danger to Checo my beloved. I am sooo happy that Mercedes seem to get closer to Red Bull and that Lewis might have even had a chance today if the race had been just a few laps longer. But at the same time, please be worse than Checo.

Also Lewis is one of the very few men that I find breathtakingly beautiful. He is so gorgeous. And I love his tattoos. Especially his hand tattoos.

Fun Fact: My dad watched the Qatar GP with me, which was his first race ever and now he keeps refering to Lewis as the one who never makes it past turn one. Can't wait to tell him that the one who never makes it past turn one almost got Max.

4. Charles Leclerc

This was another hard decision, because I love Charles, but the past few weeks I barely paid attention to him (not because I didn't want to, but because there were so many other things to focus on, plus Uni sucks). I have thought about putting him on 5th, but who am I kidding, I love Charles too much and when he took pole I basically had the same reaction as Matt from p1. But I didn't really have time to be sad, about him losing P1 so early, because there was so much happening.

Also both Ferraris have been doing quite good, just not good enough, which is sad, but at least they didn't have any major strategy fuck-ups.

5. Lando Norris

I almost put him in 4th. This is mainly because I totally fell in love with Team Quadrant and was watching almost all of their youtube videos. Texas quali was the first time is tuned in to Max Fewtrell's watch along and I couldn't help but cheer along for Lando. And for the first half of the race I thought that there might be a chance for him to get his first win. It's kinda frustrating watching him being on the podium every weekend but never on the top step.

Honorable mentions:

Lance. He's really close to taking 5th. I might just have two 5th places next time. I might feel for him even more than I feel for Checo. And that means something. My boy passing out in the car in the middle of the race in Qatar? I literally couldn't sleep after reading about all of this. Just imagine the things that could have happened. I could cry just thinking about it. And then the dnf in the sprint race in Texas. He was doing so good and then that. But at least we got some Strollonso content and two stroints. Good race for him today.

Logan. I didn't think I'd ever say that, but Logan has kinda sneaked his way into my heart. He's nowhere near the top five but same as Checo and Lance, I just want him to have a good race for once. Qatar might have opened my eyes about him. That he was the only driver with the balls to retire for the sake of his health. And a big thanks to Williams for being so lovely. I feel like no other team would be so understanding. Sure you could say they have nothing to lose, but still. It takes some bravery to do. And I'm happy they did.

Also the Texas race was quite good, happy for Logan. Even though the rest of the weekend sucked.

Fernando. I don't know how and when it happened but I feel myself growing fonder of Fernando every day. I realized during quali when I was really upset that both Williams, both Astons and Hulk were out in Q1. So, all five of them, drivers that I wanted to see doing well. And the dnf in the race sucked so bad. Both Astons did so well and then that.

But then again, at least we got some Strollonso content. Fernando always pointing his camera at Lance is so cute.

Also him dead ass asking the team to pour water over him in Qatar might be my favorite thing ever.

Nico. Also no idea where that came from, but I realized that I have developed a huge soft spot for Nico. It started with me being interested in how he does because he's German. Then I started to genuinely like him and now I have this huge soft spot for him. It's not like he's competing for the top five though. It kinda feels like he has his own category (again, might be the German in me talking). I respect him big time, spitting facts about how shitty Haas is and frequently driving that shit box into the points. But I don't really search for content about him. Except for Hulknussen every now and then.

Speed round:

Oscar's safe (mad respect, many would have sent that into the wall) and stupid dnf. Also Loscar is kinda cute.

Alpine being sponsored by Travis Kelce. I just think it's funny how the whole Taylonso thing comes full circle now with Tay's new boyfriend basically buying Fernando's ex team.

Also Esteban just casually talking about throwing up in his helmet...

Nico Rosberg. I initially didn't like him, but he does spit facts and I appreciate that.

Yukierre. They're too cute for my little heart.

Pierre and Danny Ric. It's crazy to me how two drivers who literally used to be my favorites at some point are now totally irrelevant to me. I still like them, but in a normal way. Which is weird. I'm not used to being normal about something.

F1 acadamy slaying. And Bianca in McLaren :)

Women.

(Please can we talk about queen Susie?)

That's it for now. Give me your thoughts.

[megumi-fm]

16th - 20th October || 86 to 90 days of 100 150dop

hi besties! it's been a while since i updated on here properly. there was kind of an infestation issue but now it's all flushed out and I'm back! i've decided to upgrade my days of productivity challenge to 150 total days because i have 40 days of uni remaining (as well as additional exam days) and I wanted to note all of them down and wrap it up in this challenge itself. I'm also gonna start adding memes and random non-productivity updates, just so I feel more motivated to actually post stuff, instead of procrastinating and clubbing too many days at once.

🎶: Hayloft II by Mother Mother 🔉: MAG053 The Crusader

💌: today I am grateful for music! i've been in a funk recently, but my playlists has really been helping me through it <3

my main focus for the past few days and especially today (20th Oct) has been to complete an assignment on 3D bioprinting and it's relevance in drug testing. I've done a lot of research and learnt a lot of interesting things, but my interest has also led me to getting too distracted and not actually wrapping up the project. I really hope I finish it by tonight, I like how it's looking so far.

i spent yesterday (19th Oct) with my cousins and my sister, I took them to this gaming arcade and babysat them for the day. they seemed to have a good time, I enjoyed a day out of the house as well. we spent so much time there, I managed to upgrade the game card to a gold tier :P we also had taco bell for lunch <3

the day before that (18th Oct) I spent a couple hours on my week3 neuroscience lectures. the concepts are comparatively challenging to understand, so i sat through them many times, I'm yet to make notes for them

on Tuesday (17th Oct) I had extra classes (booo it was the most boring time ever) and a dentist appointment after, so I couldn't really get much done. the dental clinic was just a kilometer or two away from home, so I just walked back, taking pictures of the greenery on the way

i didn't have uni on Monday (16th Oct) so I ended up waking up late but i did clean my room and chart out a work plan the weeks until this semester ends. I've been trying to follow it best I can but oh well, things keep popping up from time to time

in the midst of this I'm in the midst of massive nationwide cricket fever (the world cup is going on and we're doing really well! we've won every match we played so far!) It's also festival time here so I have holidays this week (we don't celebrate at home but my friends call me home and I get to partake with them so it's really nice). And this is coupled with my insane levels of consumption of The Magnus Archives Podcast 24/7 xD. Additionally, I have quite a chunk of AI-ML work to get done by this week (SGD and XBoost model development) and I don't know the first thing about it or where to even start so I'm kind of avoiding it for the moment. Hoping to start that once I'm done with this 3d bioprinting presentation. Fingers crossed!

[woniebunny]

JARED CAMERON x Y/N ONESHOT

A/N: Hey guys!! It’s been a hottt minute since I posted anything. I’ve genuinely been so busy with work and uni and lots of moving 😅. Life has just been a lot and finding time to write was kinda tricky but hopefully going forward I’ll be a little better at it. I did have one user ask about me potentially writing something separate about Jared and his imprint and I actually really liked the idea and finally got around to it so hopefully you guys enjoy it!

3 weeks. 3 weeks is how long it’s been since I’ve avoided you. 3 weeks of trying to ignore how much I miss our conversations or your laugh or even just your presence. 3 weeks of pretending Im okay and feeling guilty for not being able to be honest because how do I tell the most important person in my life that I’m falling for the one person they want a chance with more than anybody else. 3 weeks of feeling like the worst best friend in the history of best friends. *Ring ring ring* and there goes the last bell signaling the end of the school day and effectively bringing me out of my thoughts. I gather and pack up all my things and start heading out the door to meet Kim as per our usual routine of walking home together. As I go to put my things in my locker I can hear someone stopping next to me. “Hey would you wanna go get ice cream on our way home?” I start asking Kim as I shut my locker only to turn and come face to face with the last person I wanted to see at the moment. Jared Cameron. “Sorry I thought you were Kim, what’s up?” He doesn’t respond for a minute or two, just continues staring at me. “Cameron?” Looks like he snapped out of whatever trance he was in. “Sorry, I was just wondering if I did something wrong or if you’re mad at me?” “Huh? No Im not, why would you ask that?” “Well I haven’t really seen or heard much from you the past weeks so I guess I was just curious” “oh guess I’ve just been busy and we haven’t really been partnered recently, but I’m not mad.” “Oh okay… cool” as he starts nodding his head and awkwardly giving me a thumbs up, it almost makes me wanna laugh as I feel my lips fighting to lift. “In that case I was wondering if…” “Y/N!!!” He pauses and I whip my head around hearing Kim yelling to me as she runs up. “Im so so sorry I got held back a few mins cause some kids were blocking the door but I’m ready if you wanna start heading home and… oh hi Jared I didn’t see you there” Kim says as I see her slyly giving me a questioning look. “Hey Kim, I was just asking her a question about history class. Hope you guys get home safe.” “Thanks! Let’s go Y/N!!” She replies as she grabs my arm and starts running to head home. I can feel him watching us as we leave but I keep my focus on Kim. It’s about a 10 minute walk, 15 since we stopped for ice cream along the way, before we reach Kim’s house and she invites me in. “Oh Y/N honey how are you? How are your parents?” Asks Ms.Connweller as we’re passing through to get to her room. “We’re good Ms. Connweller thank you for asking” “that’s good to hear, well dinner should be done in about 20 minutes if you don’t mind staying, you know we love having you over” “that sounds great Ms.Connweller thank you” “of course dear, now why don’t you girls go relax in the meantime” and that was our signal to head to Kim’s room. Soooooooo my precious Y/N, do you wanna tell me what that was about?” “Pardon? What’s what about?” “Jared Cameron talking to you by your lucky, which I’m so sorry for interrupting by the way I didn’t mean to” “no no it’s okay, like he said he was just asking about class.” “Hmmmm” “what do you mean hmmmm?” “I think he was gonna ask you out” she giggles. What. “What do you mean?” “Girl did you not notice how he was staring at you when I took you away, not to mention he was in the middle of talking to you, and it’s not like you genuinely talk to anybody beside Embry and I… so yeah all clues are pointing to him asking you out! Oooooohh this is so exciting, I’ve never seen you go on a date it’d be so fun to dress you up!” What. The. Hell?? “You’d want me to say yes to Cameron? Seriously Kim?” I ask staring at her like she’s crazy. Isn’t she in love with him? Is this a trick?? Why would she be happy? “Well I mean if he asks you then yeah! It’s about time you get a boyfriend and he looks like he’s genuinely into you which a green card in my books” “wait but aren’t you into him Kim? Wouldn’t that be wrong..?” “Huh? Girl I just thought he was cute like major eye candy like Embry for example but I’m not actually into him haha” she starts laughing.

“Wait did you think I was genuinely in love with him?” “Uhh.. yes?” I answered more like a question unsure of what’s happening. “Lmaooo girl nooo eye candy haha he’s all yours if you want him. Besides I’m talking to Axel at the moment I thought you knew?” Oh. My. God. “Oh” “wait, is that why you’ve been avoiding him since your guys group project? Awwww you’re such a sweet best friend but seriously if you don’t get with that boy I will slap you cause he’s very obviously in love with you” “I was cause I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship and mess things up” “and I appreciate that and guarantee it won’t even if I did like him like that you should know I’d never make you choose. You’re my sister Y/N forever and always and I love you and support you no matter what. So please please please do me the big favor of getting with him” “hahaha okay Kim, I love you too, forever and always” “Girls dinner is ready!” Ms.Connweller yells from downstairs. “I’m glad we had this talk now idk about you but I’m starving, let’s go eat!”

The next day at school as I’m standing by my locker again I feel someone stop next to me. Now knowing that Kim was 100% okay with anything happening between Jared and I, I feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. Maybe that’s why I don’t hesitate to close my locker and immediately turn “Hey Jared, what’s up?” “Hey Y/N, I know this is kinda random but we got interrupted yesterday and I was just wondering if maybe you know you would like to go out with me?” He rambles really quick and closes his eyes and turns his head like he’s waiting for me to yell at him. “Like a date?” “Huh? Oh yeah, uh like a uh date? If that’s okay?” “Okay” “Wait okay? Like okay yes?” “Yes Cameron lol okay yes. I’d love to go on a date with you” he starts smiling and practically bouncing in place “oh oh my god, I, wow, oh you actually said yes I am so happy I promise I will make it the best date ever okay I will see you later!” He goes to leave but I stop him “hey Cameron, don’t you kinda need my number to tell me when and what time the date is and to find out where to pick me up?” “Oh yeah, sorry I got excited” as he sheepishly scratches the nape of his neck and handed me his phone. After putting in my number and watching him excitedly leave almost tripping over another student when he turns to wave at me one last time, I don’t stop myself from letting out a laugh and smiling this time. I just know he’s going to make me the happiest girl in the world and the best part is I didn’t even have to go looking for him. I guess I have the moon goddess to thank for that.

[fairybabyshifting]

sorry it’s been a month since my last update, im torn between regular updates or just posting when i shift lmfaooo.

anyway, to update yall the last month has been so hectic and i hadnt been trying to shift at all. im in my final semester of uni ever and had all these assignments due at the same time so to say it has been a stressful couple of weeks is a huge understatement - not to mention how totally fucked my sleep schedule was because id be staying up till 3-4am, pulling all nighters sometimes and literally not even dreaming bc i was so stressed. anyway, i handed in my final assignment last night so im freeeeeee

this past week i have actively been trying to shift every night. i don’t really do any specific method, i just visualise my surroundings being where ill wake up in my DR and then try to go to sleep with that in mind although sometimes it keeps me awake because i stress about whether itll be the last thing i think about before sleeping - dont do this lol. something i’ve learnt from these attempts is that im placing my focus on trying to shift and making sure i wake up in my dr and not cr when i should just be focusing on the fact that im already there ! not worrying about the future, just focusing on the present moment and what im experiencing in imagination, because as we all know, imagination is the true reality, so, according to this logic that means when i am attempting to shift i am actually shifting, even though my senses may say otherwise.

something i really try to do in my attempts is connect to smell and touch. i visualise myself walking through my dorm and touching everything and then try to smell vanilla or something strong.

something i also need to remember is that symptoms are not a sign of shifting and i can shift without getting any symptoms. in fact, im convinced symptoms only occur the first few times and then because we get used to it, we dont get them anymore. i saw someone on twitter saying that they dont get symptoms at all when they shift and apparently no symptoms means your third eye is open ?? idk but sounds right to me. also im still shifting to my slytherin boys uni dr heheh

[disabled-dragoon]

Hi there,

I’ve just been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, specifically neuropathic pain due to fibromyalgia, mainly centered in my legs and feet as well as hyperalgesia (increased pain sensing). Walking has become increasingly difficult and, if I’m being honest, fucking painful. My feet feel like they’re on fire all of the damn time, even with my rollator.

A few weeks ago I went on a school trip to a local museum to look at some artifacts, I wasn’t able to bring my rollator due to the shuttle we rode, but I was told there were mobility aides I could use there.

When I got to the museum I was given a self-propelled wheelchair and it felt like such a relief. Just being off my feet and being able to move was fucking amazing, my pain was down and I could focus on the lecture, it was the first time in a few years that I really enjoyed going to a museum because I felt I had so much more energy to explore everything. Because of this, I’m thinking of switching to becoming an ambulatory wheelchair user (luckily I have a job that doesn’t rely on physicality so I’m able to afford a premade wheelchair pretty easily), but I’m really worried about accessibility. My campus is horrifically inaccessible and I’m scared that I won’t be able to go anywhere in my wheelchair. Do you have any suggestions with how to force my uni’s hand (I live in America) to becoming more wheelchair friendly?

I'm not all that familiar with the American schooling system, so I'm not entirely sure how helpful my advice will be but I shall try my best!

You should contact your campus disability officer, if the position, or something similar, exists, and raise your concerns with them. Tell them you're considering switching to a wheelchair and see if they have any suggestions regarding accessibility concerns. It's good to build a rapport with them before you make the switch, so raising concerns with them afterwards won't be so difficult, and they'll be more across your condition as a whole.

Also, if you don't have one already, see about making a student support plan with them. If such a plan or something similar is in place, anyone involved in your teaching should be aware of it and adhere to it.

Contacting your doctor should help with this too, if you feel comfortable/safe enough to do so, and are confident that they will help. Medical evidence of your accommodation requirement and support from your doctor will help if you run into issues getting accommodations in place (like campus refusal, for instance, or a failure on behalf of your teachers to adhere to them).

It may also help to familiarise yourself with the ADA, as well as the individual disability laws of your state and campus. You don't have to know them outright, but a good understanding of what they are will help if you do end up being refused an accommodation that you know you're entitled to, by law.

(Also familiarise yourself with the process of submitting ADA complaints if you find any part of your campus to be in violation)

I think it might also be a good idea to kind of rally other disabled students if you know them (and are comfortable to, of course)? Say, for instance, there's a particular problem area on campus that affects a group of you, it might be more effective to voice your concerns together if the schoolboard are digging their heels in and not doing anything about it.

There will be issues that simply won't/can't be resolved and, unfortunately, you may have to be prepared to accept that, and you may have to be prepared to find your own solutions to some problems too. But if there is anything that the campus can do, keep on at them until they do. Get your support networks involved. Know your rights and how to use them!

That's all I've got right now. I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you were looking for, but these all worked for me in the past when it came to getting more accessible accommodations in place- especially in one particularly ignorant institution.

Good luck, Anon, I hope it works out for you!

[whovianshifts]

shifting with school - september

hey! just a quick update. this account has been so dead for the past few weeks, but that's mostly because i haven't been focusing as much on shifting due to schoolwork (i'm actually applying to uni this year so wish me luck!) HOWEVER i did have a very successful attempt in late September.

so picture the scene - the weather in the uk is everywhere right now so my windows are still open from the heatwaves. turns out though, that autumn finally decided to autumn on some random night and i woke up with a stuffy ass blocked nose.

usually, i cant deal with physical blockages, but the next night i was like you know what maybe i will try and shift.

so i do my go to method which is basically just getting relaxed (i sometimes do 369 manifestation to get my subconscious to focus) lying down and try and get into a void state, and doing affirmations, counting to 100 etc.

now idk at what point (i think it was when i was counting to 100), but i suddenly feel a change in surroundings. its not drastic because my dr room is in the same space as my dr, but like i can sort of feel the space behind my eyes getting lighter. that's pretty usual for me so i wasnt too surprised but YALL REMEMBER MY STUFFY NOSE?? literally ALL OF A SUDDEN out of NOWHERE, it clears. LIKE FULLY CLEARS. as in before i was struggling to breathe and shit and suddenly it just disappears and im breathing in like fresh, crisp air. in my dr, it is morning and its the summertime so my windows should be open, so i just knew i was there. i didnt shift that night, but that was such a cool experience!!

a few nights later, i also had a semi-lucid experience. idk if i could call it shifting, but that night, i think i attempted shifting then went to sleep and woke up half in my sleep (i cant even fully remember waking up actually, but i know i did (its hard to describe)) and i think i was in that hypnagogic/hypnopompic state because i swear, all of a sudden, i could feel two bodies simultaneously. it was like my body was facing sideways (which is how i vision my dr self to be sleeping) and i could feel myself completely moving to the left whilst still feeling my current body in place. idk what happened after that, but i woke up here.

other than that, i've been feeling really demotivated with shifting. ive been debating on taking a break but i feel like, lowkey, thats what ive been doing these past few weeks. im trying a new method tonight (5 minutes method, i think its called) so i'll let yall know if that works out!

thanks for sticking till the end,

happy shifting!

-tisha

[styrbear]

Bear update

Woah hi been a while wheheeeey!

So, update I guess. Hi, it's been like a few weeks, a month? Feels like forever, basically ya boi hasn't been in the best headspace for art, like, at all, even picking up a pen has been hard. The reason is a huge cocktail of emotions that have basically put me into mental gridlock. First, job stresses. I am attempting to find more fulfilling employment instead of my current job as a barman in a toxic location, I want to try getting into film and TV, maybe storyboarding but...well...I suck. I don't have a good portfolio and I just feel like I would be awful in the art world. I suck at commitments, really badly. Age is also an issue, I am 26, which means I am now past the pretty, cute newcomer stage of employment and into the "Oh wow he failed and is coping hard" stage of employment. Opportunities are slipping away and I have nothing to show for it, I wish I focused up in Uni, then maybe I'd be better, but at the same time I know I wouldn't, this is just who I am, someone with massive ideas and dreams, but literally 0 drive to attempt to achieve them.

Next, mentally, my head is filled with a billion things, like...I can't focus. Every day my brain is a cocktail of all these real life issues, then filled up with. "DnD, Homebrew, get a house, , move out you failure, Lackadaisy, Armored core, Cyberpunk, PLAY GAMES, NO DONT, GO TO WORK, WHAT ABOUT THIS?, DO ART, WHICH ART!?, Study, write a book! Learn to make a game! Learn blender, learn video editing, MAKE A MOD." This is only a fraction of what my mind goes through every waking moment, it's exhausting and it basically gridlocks me into just scrolling twitter and tumblr, then logging off and feeling shit that I didn't accomplish anything. Rinse and repeat for 5 years. Sorry for the bummer update, I am gonna try made something work, as much as I can. I am thinking maybe I need to see a doctor about my brain. Maybe try get some kind of medication, I don't have ADHD to my knowledge but...I dunno man. maybe I do.

[posititties]

last week i've spent some time with my friends and we talked about stupid stuff but i also opened a little up about the things that happened last month. well, i didn't exactly tell them that i've been struggling with suicidal thoughts and that i impulsively took pills and that i harmed myself with a knife but i told them that things have gotten worse and that i'm scared of what might happen the next time i experience these low feelings. i did not say everything i wanted to because asking for help and being honest about the things i struggle with will always be difficult for me i guess and i do not want to scare them, but it went better than i expected and their reactions gave me a lot of comfort and stability about where i currently stand in their lives.

i always feel like opening up will scare people away or drain them to the point they decide to cut ties. even though i 100% know that one of them will stick around for the rest of my life, i still get that little voice in my head telling me that the other friend will see through me one day and decide that our friendship isn't worth it. but last week i've tried to test the waters and open up a little more about the way i am, the things i've discussed with my other friend about my mental health and the possibility of me having bipolar disorder and/or borderline personality disorder (or cptsd with traits that look like bipolar/bpd, which i've already been diagnosed with in the past). his reaction was everything i needed honestly, he didn't ask too much, i did not feel like i had to go in detail and most important of all, i did not feel like he wanted to distance himself from me after hearing this.

it's been a few days now and the suicidal thoughts are still very present, they're just not that active and loud. it's more wishing for death than actively trying to make plans or telling myself that everything will be okay once i'm dead and that the world is better off without me. the thoughts are just there, kinda flowing through my mind, i guess. and besides that, the whole situation with my family isn't really helping. i'm just trying to focus on other things, talking a little more with the new girls i met at the harry styles concert, redoing and cleaning my whole room whenever the thoughts get louder, focusing on the homework i got and generally just taking care of myself.

at the moment i'm very discouraged about where i am in life. part of me really wants to give up because i feel like i will never get better, but part of me wants to try my best to make the best out of the situation - even if i will never be 100% happy and healthy in my mind. i know that it will never get better, or at least, the way i want to get better, because i might be born with it and the things life has thrown at me have left too much of an impact to be able to live a life like others that have not dealt with these things. but on the other hand, i have two amazing friends - one of them i've known since high school and the other one since uni. i had never expected that i would find connections like this, that i would find people that are not only good for me, but people that actually want me in their life and want to talk with me, spend time with me and just want to be my friend even though there's always some shit going on with me. i really want to be better for them, i really want to try my best to get as healthy as possible and to heal myself as much as possible, so i can be their friend for a long time. it's quite hard because at the moment my thoughts are scattered all over the place - hence why this whole blog post is so messy - and i really don't know where to begin. i'm so scared of not being able to get better, i'm so scared of my mental health getting worse to the point where it's draining to them but i really want to try my best to not let that happen. i just want to be better, not for me, but because i want to do something back for them.

[gladiolidiaries]

when did snf ever leave when it actually affected dteam content. like over the past 4 months only about 2ish weeks were actually spent on the nc trips to record banter. like i know we hate banter but it isn’t the reason there’s no dream team content. it’s a mix of many reasons but i don’t think it’s even a debate that drusic making dream spend like 2 of those 4 months in LA where he doesn’t edit or stream at all is a bigger reason.

and i don’t like banter or karl hate them both but they could’ve easily done streams and that applies to all 3 not just snf who have at least done a few solo streams and streams with the two of them. my opinion is george is the only one who truly likes irl streaming but he doesn’t have the motivation to properly push for it and dream likes the idea but when it comes to doing it he gets scared.

and dream chose to stop micromanaging snf which fair enough but i also don’t blame snf for not being productive cause they weren’t the ones who had a passion for content creation, and to be honest i don’t think they’re good at working without deadlines and bosses and such, which dream used to basically act as. i mean george’s whole life he had school then uni then developing, he’s never been without deadlines.

i think if dream won’t micromanage them they need someone who will and only karl is doing that right now which makes banter be the only consistent content but i don’t think that’s because of banter taking up time or because they think it’s enough content i just think they need someone to lead them and make them do stuff or they won’t. it’s why sapnap streams for nrg. i don’t even think that’s necessarily a bad character trait i’m similar, but all of the dream team need to work out a system that’ll actually work because what they’re doing right now isn’t working

dream constantly has ideas and is very passionate but he does suck at follow through like there’s been so many things he gets the fandom excited for that never happen so i think they all need a new system like look at the sidemen, they don’t need the exact same thing but something to help content creation be seen as more of a job in their eyes

i fully agree and i have said similar things before. the only reason to me why it feels like banter is more to blame (only to some extent), is because it makes snf very lazy because they already have weekly content coming out. just look at how little george has streamed since banter season 2 started vs how often he was streaming from january to april.

i despise both drusic and banter. it's not a competition for me. i find all of dteam insanely dumb to focus on these things.

[fueledbyapplepi]

Hiiii :) Idk if your request is open but I'm going to bet, it is. (And it's highly okay and acceptable if your request is off atm) Uhm, can I request something? The 1st Gen, Black Dragon (Shinichiro, Takeomi, Wakasa & Benkei) having their own shop, it could be anything except for Shini since he canonically have his own shop already. Flirting or having a crush to their shop neighbor owner who owns a flowershop or a cafe and it so happens to be their crush during uni days as well?

Make a Move | Shinichiro, Takeomi, Wakasa, and Benkei

- The boys crushing on their neighbor, Y/N.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

A/N: Writing this made me feel quite giddy, ngl. I had a lot of scenarios in mind before writing this so I'm sorry if it took some time. I wasn't really able to sort it out LOL but thank you so much, anon!

Shinichiro Sano

The clanking of the tools can be heard across the shop as Shinichiro struggles to take a good look at himself at one of the side mirrors of the bikes displayed.

“Just what the fuck are you doing?” Wakasa asked. His lazy eyes glimmering with a hint of interest.

“Gotta look good for Y/N.” Shinichiro brushed the top of his hair and dusted off his crinkled white shirt. “Quick, they're coming! How do I look?”

“I mean…. Not quite decent, but tolerable.” Wakasa shrugged. His eyes shifted to your familiar figure approaching the shop.

“Look, Shinichiro. I still don’t understand why you still like someone even after rejecting you for what, 17? No, 20 times?”

Shinichiro’s feet were quick to move at the door entrance to welcome you, “You’ll understand when you get there.”

You entered the doors of the familiar bike shop of Sano's. Your eyes immediately land on Shinichiro.

“Shinichiro-san, is the bike fixed yet?” you asked. In hopes that the delivery bike for your coffee shop has been done.

Shinichiro scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry Y/N-chan. But it looks like I still have to be the one to do the deliveries.” He smiled. “This might still take a week or two.”

Wakasa rolled his eyes at Shinichiro’s lame excuse. While you can only look at the man with a feeling of guilt and embarrassment.

These past few weeks, Shinichiro has been the one to deliver all the orders from your cafe after he volunteered when you brought the broken delivery bike in his shop. Although you argued with the man that you can rent one of his bikes and have your staff do it, Shinichiro insisted.

“Look, Shinichiro-san.” You sighed. “I get that you’re concerned about my business, but you should be concerned about yours too! You’re a gang leader and you shouldn’t be doing stuff like this.”

Shinichiro was at loss for words. Not with what you’ve just said, but with the way you looked at him with concern and kindness. The way you look at him just truly takes his breath away.

“I can fix this in a day,” Wakasa butted in between you and the man’s stare off, “Just fucking date him Y/N, please.”

“W-what?” You look at Wakasa, then at Shinichiro, perplexed.

The poor man could only glare at his friend, while he smiled at you apologetically.

“It’s true, Y/N-san. I only kept the bike in the shop so I could hang around you.” Shinichiro explained, “S-so, I get it if you hate m-”

You laughed. The pleasant tune rang in Shinichiro’s ears while he and Wakasa looked at you surprised.

“You could’ve just asked.” You smiled, “I thought you would never.”

“B-but you said no multiple times?”

“I was honest with my reason when I said I need to focus on my studies first. But now that I’m successful with my business, it’s all good.” You smiled, “I’ve always liked you too, Shinichiro-san.”

Shinichiro covered his mouth with both of his hands, trying to suppress the feeling of shock and surprise as he looked back and forth between you and his friend.

“You’re welcome.” Wakasa mouthed, a smile forming on his lips.

Takeomi Akashi

“And here’s your Espresso.” You placed the hot cup of coffee on the wooden table, “Thank you very much for your patronage, Takeomi-san, and everyone.”

The Vice President of Black Dragon could only smile meekly at you. Shinichiro snickered in the background, while Wakasa and Benkei watched the enjoying scene unravel before them.

“You’re welcome.” Takeomi nodded as you left their table to make sure that your staff was attending to their tasks.

“The fuck was that Takeomi?” Shinichiro giggled. “Seriously, you come here every day and that’s all you do?”

“Shut up.” Takeomi sipped the coffee. Savoring the aroma and taste of the coffee you made for him.

Takeomi mentally agreed with his friends - it’s indeed the only thing he can do for now. Although he might seem like he’d pick up chicks easily, it was difficult when it comes to you.

You were charming and irresistible. As cliche as it may sound, one look from you was enough to make his day, and being with someone brilliant as you was enough to fill the void in his heart. But someone like him wouldn’t be a good match for you, especially with his delinquent life.

So, the best thing he could do for now was to visit your coffee shop almost every single day. Hell, he’s even considered a regular now for how frequently he visits your shop.

What made his heart swell though was how you were able to memorize his orders and favorites quickly. And that somehow tugged at his heartstrings that maybe, just maybe, he has a chance.

Takeomi’s trail of thoughts was interrupted with a pat on the back.

“Go get it, dude.” Shinichiro winked, leaving him at the table along with the rest of the gang.

“W-what?” Takeomi looked at his friends confusedly as they left him.

However, he was more anxious when he saw your familiar figure walking towards his table.

“So, Takeomi-san,” you said as you slid on the seat in front of him, “there’s a problem with your coffee?”

Takeomi sighed, cursing his friends mentally. “Oh uhm, not really.”

“Is that so?” You smiled, “I’ll get going then.”

Just when you were about to leave the table, you felt a hand clutch yours.

“No, Y/N-san, uhm, I was thinking that maybe you want some coffee?”

“Takeomi-san, I literally own a coffee shop.” You giggled.

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Takeomi raised his hands, “I meant, you know, there might be something brewing between us.”

The man closed his eyes, promising himself to ask Shinichiro to punch him later because what the fuck did he just say?

You laughed hysterically. The laughter attracted a few customers as it resonated within the shop.

“Man, I thought you’re better than this,” you smiled, “That was really bad, you know?”

Takeomi could only blush at your statement.

“But sure, I’ll go out with you” You winked. “Just no pick-up lines like that, okay?”

He smiled, the flush of embarrassment washed away and immediately replaced with a smile of victory.

“Sure.”

While Shinichiro, Benkei, and Wakasa fist-bumped each other as they watched from the outside.

Wakasa Imaushi

You wiped the drops of sweat from your forehead. Smiling contently with the reps you just did for your workout. However, your smile dropped when you felt a pair of eyes boring holes into your head.

Looking around, you only saw a couple of other people minding their own business. Deciding that you’re probably just imagining things, you continued your workout.

But a pair of white leopard eyes watched you like prey. Everyone in the gym can feel the intense gaze of Wakasa on you.

“So that’s your crush huh?” A voice interrupted Wakasa’s pleasure of watching you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Benkei.” Wakasa rolled his eyes at the man who sat next to him.

“Dude, you’re literally watching their every move.” Benkei deadpanned. “It’s borderline creepy if you ask me.”

“Shut up.” Wakasa sighed.

Truthfully, Wakasa has taken a liking to you for quite some time. Although there was a lack of conversation between the two of you, he appreciated how you smiled at him and almost everyone who passed by your flower shop from across the street. He’s not sure whether you knew who he was, but with his terrorizing looks, you sure have the guts to smile at someone like him. Whether he passes by with bloodstains on his clothes, you always somehow manage to give him that sweet smile.

And oh, it was beautiful.

His eyes immediately shifted to you. Seeing that you’re struggling from adjusting the power rack, Wakasa was fast enough to assist you.

“Oh hi. Do you need something?” You smiled at the familiar man standing in front of you, trying to hide your surprise.

“Maybe.” he shrugged, “But let me fix that for you, princess.”

Feeling quite conscious of how he called you and the way he looked at you, you turned to look in the other direction.

“Hmm?” he questioned. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You looked at the gorgeous man in front of you with surprise. “Oh no. It’s just that, Y/N’s my name. Not Princess.”

Wakasa bore his eyes to you, making you feel even more conscious. “Huh, funny because you look like one to me.”

To Wakasa’s surprise, you suddenly giggled. Although the red tint on your cheeks was evident.

“That’s really cliche.” You said in between your fits of giggles, “But I’ll give it a 7 since that was smooth.”

“7 huh. That’s kind of low don’t you think?”

“Oh, and what do you suggest?” You smiled, playing along with the man.

“How about I take you out at 7 tonight?” Wakasa smirked, “Then maybe you can rate my lines ‘til I get to 10?”

Once again, you smiled at him, the smile that made him attracted to you. And boy was he ready to go for the mile just so you can smile at him like that again.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Keizo Arashi (Benkei)

You’re not the type of person who judges their customers. But somehow, it was quite peculiar that a certain notorious member of the Black Dragons was your regular customer. Almost every day, the tall and handsome, yet mysterious man would come by and buy a bouquet from you.

It wasn’t really weird to come across members of the Black Dragons, considering that your shop was located within their turf. So you were quite familiar with the faces of their leaders. Especially with that particular customer.

And speaking of the devil.

“Welcome, sir!” You bowed. Welcoming the tall man who entered the shop.

“I’ll take…” Benkei looked around, his eyes landing on whatever flower he saw, “this one.”

“Oh, great choice!” You beamed, “Other than being beautiful, Tulips also characterize the perfect love you have for someone…”

Although you were explaining God knows what, Benkei could only look at your excited expression -the way your lips move to the words that you slip out and the way your eyes crinkled with your joyous expression.

Although he doesn’t really seem to listen, he likes it when you ramble out everything about the things that he likes. After all, the reason why he buys all of these flowers was just to savor every moment with you.

At first, it was nothing special. He’d just pass by your shop that was a few blocks from him. But when he saw your concerned look for him when he passed by once with an open wound in his forehead, he knew that you were something.

He’s a monster; someone whose only knowledge is to brawl on the streets. Yet you’re here in front of him talking about some flowers like he’s someone who wouldn’t bring any harm to you.

“Sir, may I ask something?” A hint of curiosity painted on your face as you chipped in on his thoughts.

“Benkei is fine.” He corrected. “And yes, go ahead.”

“Well, Benkei, I’m curious as to why you buy my flowers every day.” You smiled kindly, “Is it for your s/o?”

Benkei furrowed his brows at your question. “Don’t you like it when I buy your stuff?”

You blushed when you realized that you might seem nosy for the man, “Oh no! It’s not that. I’m thankful for your patronage. But I was just curious.” You bowed your head, “Sorry if I was intruding too much.”

Now, it was the tall man’s turn to be shy when you bowed to him, “No. But I buy your flowers because…” Benkei looked away, trying to hide the subtle flush in his cheeks, “I like you.”

“What?” You looked at him confused.

“I like you, so...I buy your flowers?” Benkei explained almost questioningly.

“So...you want me to realize that you like me by buying my flowers?” You looked at him, perplexed. Trying to fight the urge to smile that was forming in your lips.

“Yeah...that was the plan.”

“Well…” you smirked, “you’re one interesting man, Benkei.”

[serenailith]

just wishing

for @dreamlingbingo

Square: d1, cybersex Rating: e Word Count: 7275 Ship(s): dream of the endless/hob gadling Warnings: none Additional Tags: alternate universe - human, overworked uni student!hob, sex cam worker!dream, sex work is real work, so much filth in this, dirty talk, sex toys, blowjobs, anal sex, gratuitous use of the word ‘beautiful’ Summary:

Hob never knew a simple weblink could change his entire life.

Link: on ao3 masterlist

Hob sighs and stares at the blinking cursor. It mocks him; really, it does. Each blink seems to say “You should be writing. You’re wasting time, Gadling.” And… It’s true. He should be writing. This paper won’t write itself, and if he doesn’t get it submitted by midnight, he’ll fail Medieval Literature, and then where will he be?

Slamming his laptop shut, he follows the action with slamming his forehead against his desk. His roommate scoffs and throws a licorice rope at his back.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s worse. I haven’t been able to think a single thought that’s original.”

“Shouldn’t have looked at examples of past papers,” Matthew says, and Hob can hear the shrug in the American’s voice. “But anyway, I’m goin’ out. Got my eye on a real good-looking girl, and I think I might actually have a chance.”

Matthew drops the package of licorice on Hob’s desk, claps a hand on his shoulder, and wishes him well on his way out of their room. Hob waits until the door has clicked closed before smacking his forehead against his desk once again.

His cellphone dings beside his head, and Hob glowers at the device before unlocking it. It’s only a text from his mum, asking how his paper is coming along. He sighs and lies, tells her it is going incredibly well and will probably be his best one yet.

Once she is sufficiently mollified and has chided him for being awake so late, as if she isn’t awake just as late, she makes him swear to go to bed then signs her last text “Love, Mum xx”. Hob’s heart aches at the words. It’s been three weeks since he’s been home; work and schooling have taken up all of his time. He hates it—loathes, really—that he can’t see his family as often as he’d like, but he needs the money and he needs the education. So he resigns himself to reality and focuses on what needs to be done rather than the hopes he has that he can’t make come true.

Opening his laptop, Hob turns his attention back to his essay and struggles through the next three hundred and fifty words. It’s eerily similar to what he thinks pulling teeth might be like, and he can’t stop the sigh of relief when his cellphone vibrates once more.

Matthew: Not coming back tonight. Score! Dont do anything i wouldnt do. And make sure u clean ur mess ;)

Hob snorts and exits the message thread. Matthew is a crass bastard, but he’s grown on Hob like lichen on a tree. He’s a half-decent roommate and a better friend besides.

It gets the better of him, the silence of the room only broken by the occasional click of keys and the more frequent huff of annoyance. Hob wishes he could do what Matthew is—out drinking at a pub, evidently going home with someone—but no, Hob is forcing himself to focus on his studies.

Unfortunately, his attention span grows shorter while his frustration grows higher. Hob finally slams his laptop closed and groans, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes. He lets out a long, steady stream of curse words until his head feels less like it’ll explode then breathes out slowly. Right. That’s enough for tonight.

Hob sighs and reaches for his cellphone. Maybe someone will be free for an hour or two. Three of his usual bedmates turn him down, citing their own studies, and the fourth doesn’t bother saying ‘no’. All he does is send a link. Hob frowns and stares at the letters.

On one hand, trusting unknown links is a bad idea. On the other, he trusts Malachi rather well. Unless Malachi was hacked…

Hob opens his laptop and types in the web address before he can overthink it more. The page takes a few seconds to load, but when it does, Hob nearly clicks out of the tab. As it is, he shoots a furtive look over his shoulder as if expecting Matthew to linger there as he normally does. But the room is empty. Matthew isn’t here.

Hob swallows harshly, squeezing his eyes closed, then turns back to the laptop. The page is still up, still set to what’s very obviously a porno site, and a banner is plastered over a video container, the words “Join now!” in a rather tasteful font. A box in the corner bears numbers, the counter rising steadily in droves. There’s no indication of what kind of porno Malachi sent, but—

Hob clicks the banner and swallows down his shame as he enters his credit card information. One try can’t hurt, right? The page reloads, and the banner is gone now. He watches as the camera suddenly flares to life a minute later and brings into focus a man against a dark background. Pinpricks of white litter the wall behind him, a veritable night sky brought to Earth and made touchable. But it’s the man who captures Hob’s attention most.

The man is gorgeous—mussed black hair, pale skin, and eyes so incredibly blue even through the screen. His kissable lips quirk into a small smile at whatever he sees on his end, and Hob realises he’s probably approving of the viewer count, which is well into the hundreds by now. The man’s gaze darts to his camera, and the breath is punched from Hob’s lungs at how it seems as if the man is looking at him, not the other viewers.

Perhaps that’s part of the ruse.

Shaking his head, Hob swallows thickly and reminds himself that this is the man’s job. He blows out a breath and closes his eyes. This is so stupid, he thinks. Why is he doing something like this? Sure, he’s been without sex for months, but is cybersex really going to make a difference? After all, it’s his own hand with or without the man currently stripping on-screen.

And what a beautiful sight. wetdream slowly, carefully pushes the straps of his lacy teddy from his shoulders; his gaze remains firmly on the camera, lips curving slightly as he lets the lingerie fall out of sight. His hands toy with the edge of his underwear, the lace accentuating the sharp lines of his hips. He teases, but he doesn’t remove them.

Someone posts Take them off, sweetheart, let us see what’s underneath. The man on-screen shakes his head, though he does push the hem down an inch, just enough to show off the slightest hint of a patch of black hair.

Hob inhales sharply at the sight. It’s nothing major, nothing revealing, but it’s enough to send heat through his blood. He slides a finger over the laptop’s trackpad, tapping it once the cursor hovers over the chat-box, and hesitates.

hobgoblin: you’re beautiful

As soon as he sends the message, he slaps a hand over his face. God, he’s a right idiot, isn’t he? No one wants to hear that, especially not when they’re working. But the man on the screen is reading the message, and he doesn’t look angry or uncomfortable. In fact, he looks… pleased? There’s a tint of pink to his cheeks, and Hob revels in the sight even as messages come pouring in, calling him a moron.

He ignores them and focuses on the man now on his knees in the middle of a bed. His legs are spread, the fabric of his underwear clearly straining against the stretch, and Hob’s mouth goes dry as the man undulates his hips. Though thin, wetdream has a great body. He’s lithe, beautiful, and almost ethereal as he practically fucks the air.

Hob can’t stop himself: He stands enough to shove down his joggers then takes himself in hand. He strokes slowly, reclining in his seat as much as possible, and watches wetdream finally—finally—remove his underwear. He turns his back to the camera, looks over his shoulder, and Hob groans at the sparkle between the man’s arsecheeks.

Wish that was my cock, someone writes, and Hob scowls before hiding the chat-box. It’s easier this way, easier to pretend he isn’t pathetic watching a sex worker perform for hundreds of other people. He can pretend it’s a private thing, as if he and wetdream are…

No, that’s stupid. Creepy, even.

So Hob forces aside those thoughts and watches wetdream remove the plug, reaching for something out of view. When he turns back to the camera, Hob sees the rather impressive dildo in his hand. And an equally impressive dick.

Hob stuffs his fist into his mouth and squeezes the root of his cock, anything to drag this out. Anything to keep watching wetdream fucking himself with the toy while nearly nine hundred people watch. There’s no sound, so Hob shamefully lets himself imagine what noises are falling from wetdream’s lips as he rolls his hips and takes the dildo in further. Would he let out breathy little sighs, or deep moans that tremble in his throat? Would he murmur his lover’s name, give directions in a love-laden voice?

Hob comes too quickly but doesn’t move to clean up. Not until wetdream has come all over his own belly with twitching thighs and a blissed-out smile on his face.

The feed ends with wetdream’s face inches from the camera, a soft smile on his lips, and Hob rushing to rearrange his budget.

Thankfully, Matthew has found a young woman who doesn’t mind his… interesting mannerisms, so the next evening, he leaves the room immediately after his last class of the day. Hob waits for ten minutes to be sure his roommate is gone before he darts for his laptop and brings up the website again. He skims through the listings, trying to find—

There. wetdream.

He hurriedly clicks on “Join now!”

As he sits in his chair, counting the seconds until the cam starts, Hob realises he should feel ashamed for this. Not for supporting a sex worker. No, that would be stupid. Sex work is real work, and he’ll knock the lights out of anyone who says otherwise. No, he should feel ashamed for how desperate he’s acting. He’s had sex before. Hell, he’s even sexted before. This is only new in that it’s a complete stranger he’s watching. It’s almost like a porn video. No desperation needed.

But he’s never seen anyone in a porno look this beautiful, he thinks when wetdream comes into view. He’s wearing a corset and stockings, garters, and his eyes are rimmed with a thin line of black. His hair is still the same wild mess as it was last night, and Hob wonders if the strands are soft, would they feel like silk between his fingers?

He calls wetdream beautiful again just to see that subtle flush to his cheeks.

It takes two weeks before Hob has the courage to search the pricing tab of the website. He grimaces to himself at the cost listed. He can’t afford it, not if he wants to continue this thing called existing. Or at the very least, feeding himself. Sighing, he slumps in his seat and runs a hand over his face.

What is he even thinking? He’s already spent far too much on wetdream’s live-cams as it is. The only time he hasn’t spent money on the site is when wetdream isn’t listed. Which… hasn’t been often. Maybe three nights out of twelve.

“Fuck it, Matthew owes me a meal or two,” he grumbles before clicking on the link to apply for a private showing.

He only has to wait two hours for the email confirmation that payment has gone through and wetdream has availability for the following Saturday evening, a one-hour window from nine to ten. Hob sends back a message agreeing to the time then immediately begins planning on how to get Matthew out of the room for that hour. It should be simple enough—if his current girlfriend hasn’t broken up with him, she’ll keep him distracted. If she has, the promise of an opportunity to find another one might be sufficient.

Hob swallows and presses his fingertips to his eyelids. He’s being foolish, but damned if he can find it in him to change.

Three days has never felt so long. Hob could swear more than seventy-two hours has passed since he got the email, but nope. He’s gone from Wednesday night to Saturday, and nothing more.

As he’d predicted, Matthew is easy to get out of the room. Hob tells him about the secluded little courtyard on the other side of campus that he knows hardly anyone knows of, hints that maybe Matthew’s girlfriend would like to watch the stars for a while. Matthew is all too eager to disappear ten minutes before nine, and Hob lets out a breath of relief.

He hurries to log in on the website with the passcode the admins emailed him, and the page loads almost instantly. The feed is dark, disconnected. Hob chews on the edge of a fingernail as he watches the minutes tick past. Finally, at two minutes past nine o’clock, the video flickers to life.

wetdream wears what he wore the first time Hob ever watched his live-cam. The lacy teddy is just as Hob remembers it: dark as pitch, contrasting so beautifully to such pale skin, barely reaching a few inches past his hips. His underwear hardly conceals his half-hard cock. Hob wonders if wetdream was stroking himself in preparation.

Hob realises belatedly that he has no idea how this works. He hadn’t exactly asked the admins of the site, and there wasn’t anything listed in the FAQs. He bites down on his lower lip and lets his fingers tap out a message in the chat-box: What do I do?

wetdream’s head cocks as he reads the message, then he lets out what Hob can only imagine is a huff of laughter. Hob’s cheeks flare with heat, and he very nearly clicks out of the tab. Only the thought that he’d paid so much for this stops him. He doesn’t want to waste that amount of money. So he resigns himself to being a laughingstock—maybe wetdream will tell all his friends about the bloody idiot who can’t work a private sex show to save his life.

wetdream: Just tell me what you want me to do. I am all yours.

Hob… Hob can do that. He can tell wetdream what to do. But, then, the question remains: What the fuck does Hob want to see? He swallows and double-checks that Matthew hasn’t come back, that the door is still locked, then faces his laptop again.

hobgoblin: take off your top. i want to see you

wetdream does without hesitation; his fingers trail along his exposed skin, hook around the straps of his teddy, and he gazes directly into the camera as he pushes the straps down. The teddy slides down his lithe body until it vanishes from view. Hob blows out a breath at the expanse of smooth pale skin, the flat planes of muscle, the almost dainty lines carved to form this body. wetdream presses the tips of long fingers to his chin as he waits, and Hob could cry with how beautiful this man is.

He tells wetdream to remove his underwear, to get on the bed, to touch himself. wetdream moves quickly yet sensuously, stripping and leaving the camera where it is but bringing a tablet with him. Clearly, it’s meant so he can keep up with the chat. So he can obey Hob’s orders and fulfil his desires.

Once he’s situated on his knees in the middle of his bed, wetdream wraps a slender hand around his cock and gives it one long, slow stroke. Hob watches wetdream drag his nails down his bare chest, lines of pink left in their wake, before the hand splays over a sharp hipbone, dips down to fondle himself. wetdream’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, and Hob hesitantly types out another message.

hobgoblin: i want to see you open yourself up.

wetdream’s gaze darts to the tablet, a brow twitching, then he moves. When he comes back on-screen, he holds a bottle of lubricant. Hob watches with a dry mouth as wetdream coats his fingers. He turns until he’s side-on to the camera, lowers his chest so it rests on the mattress, and reaches behind himself. His lashes flutter closed, knees spreading slightly wider, and his wrist flexes as he clearly pushes his finger in further. He turns his head toward the camera, eyes opening to slits, and his lips curve the barest amount in the corners. His mouth drops open as his knuckles shift beneath his skin.

hobgoblin: just like that. you’re beautiful like this, did you know that? hobgoblin: so beautiful. hobgoblin: fuck yourself with your fingers for me, love.

Hob moans when wetdream does as commanded. He wishes he could be there, could hear what sounds spill from this man’s lips, could be the one opening him up until he’s begging for Hob’s cock. Hob doesn’t hesitate: He shoves down the band of his pyjama bottoms and takes himself firmly in hand. It’s harder to type one-handed, but he does it anyway.

hobgoblin: let me see your arse. let me see you nice and open.

wetdream moves again until he’s reclining against an impressive amount of pillows, legs spread, and Hob nearly swallows his tongue at the sight. He really, truly is open; it would be so easy to just push inside and fuck wetdream senseless. After a moment, wetdream’s fingers dive back into himself. The tablet still rests beside him, and he occasionally glances at the screen.

hobgoblin: do you wish it was me there? instead of just your fingers. do you wish it was my cock splitting you open? because i do.

wetdream nods, first slowly then more vigorously. Hob types out faster, love, that’s it, and God, does wetdream obey so beautifully. He obeys when Hob tells him to stroke himself, and Hob’s hand moves more quickly as wetdream fucks up into his own fist then back onto his fingers.

Can I come? wetdream mouths after a moment, eyes darkened and thighs trembling, and Hob has a helluva time typing yes.

“Come for me,” he groans though wetdream can’t hear, but that doesn’t matter: Ropes of cum stripe along wetdream’s belly only seconds later as his head falls back to expose his throat. Hob wants to bite it, to leave his mark so wetdream would never forget him.

The mental image is enough to send Hob over the edge himself.

hobgoblin: gorgeous

wetdream gives a shaky smile as he lies against his pillows, and Hob reaches for a tissue from the box beside him. To his surprise, he sees a message when he looks back at the screen.

wetdream: Do you want me to taste myself? hobgoblin: if you want to? i don’t have much of a preference in either direction.

That might change, he thinks as wetdream swipes a finger through the mess on his stomach. Hob’s heart skips a beat when wetdream sucks the cum from his fingertip, tongue wrapping around the digit as he stares into the camera as if challenging Hob. Hob’s cock gives a valiant twitch, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

He glances at the clock—it’s only been half an hour, and he’s already spent.

wetdream: You still have thirty-two minutes left. Is there anything else you would like? hobgoblin: no, you were wonderful. i enjoyed myself

wetdream grins before visibly tamping down on it. Shaking his head, he taps at the screen of his tablet.

wetdream: I am glad. wetdream: I enjoyed myself, as well. hobgoblin: thank you for a great time. good night, beautiful

wetdream comes closer to the camera, smiles once more, then the screen goes to the landing page. Hob slumps in his seat and runs his clean hand over his face. Well, that was… something.

There’s a partial refund on his credit card the next morning.

Unfortunately for Hob, the private show spawns something like an addiction. There’s an undeniably impossible-to-resist quality about wetdream that Hob can’t quite explain, not even to himself, so he doesn’t try. He merely adjusts his budget more and more, picking up extra shifts as often as he can to afford living expenses and the live-cams. As long as they don’t interfere with wetdream’s showings. He’s noticed a pattern to the cams, so he tries to schedule his life around them. It isn’t always possible to make it to one—he has to miss a handful over the next two months, between working and Matthew being in the room—but he tries.

He always makes sure to tell wetdream how beautiful he is.

Three months after Malachi sent the link, the term is over, and Hob is heading back home for the summer. His mum has been pestering him about it, and he’s missed his family fiercely. He hadn’t known just how much wetdream’s cams had been affecting his life until he checked the calendar just last week and realised he had only been back home twice a month since the cams started.

“Robbie!”

Hob grins and envelops his mother in a tight hug. She squeezes him once before stepping back. Frowning, Elizabeth runs her thumbs under his eyes.

“I’m fine, Mum.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.”

No, I’m stupidly infatuated with a sex worker and can’t stop thinking about him. “You know how school is,” he says with a shrug before grabbing his bag. “Dad at home?”

He settles into his childhood bedroom with ease. It’s gone through some significant changes over the years. No longer filled with posters of cartoon characters or Formula 1 cars or toys meant for a seven-year-old little boy, the room suits him well enough now. He sets his bag on the floor by the wardrobe then sits on the bed.

He’s just begun thinking about wetdream—again—when a small form slams into his side. Hob chuckles as he pushes at his little sister’s shoulder until she backs away. Maggie beams before hugging him. Hob closes his eyes as he holds her close.

At only eleven years old, Margaret is the baby of the four children. She should be a spoiled princess, but she’s rather well-rounded and down to Earth. At the very least, there is little that Hob can complain about that isn’t typical younger sibling behaviour.

He presses a kiss to Maggie’s hair before releasing her. “What are you doing home already? Don’t you have school?”

“Mum said I can get out early today since you were coming home. Besides, it’s the last day anyway. We never do anything on the last day.”

“Fair enough.”

Hob sighs and stares at his sister. Her blonde hair has been plaited today, and her hazel eyes sparkle with delight as she sits beside him on his bed, grinning. There’s a small stain of chocolate on the collar of her uniform jumper.

Her gaze slides around the room before alighting on the guitar leaning against the far wall. “Oh, can you please play Black Bird?”

“Which version?”

“From the movie!”

Hob laughs and nods. If his baby sister wants a song, a song she will get. So once the instrument is in hand, he quickly wipes off the dust, tunes the strings, then begins to play.

Before he knows it, three weeks have gone by. He’s found a job in the library, so he spends his days helping patrons find books and makes small talk with everyone. It’s a lot like his job in the university bookstore but less stressful. He doesn’t have fellow students yelling at him because they’re late for class or the books are too expensive.

Hob’s favourite thing about being home, however, is spending time with his family. Fourteen-year-old Maxwell, Nicolette and Andrew at seventeen, and of course, Maggie. His parents. Even his neighbours who never really liked him but now think he’s an exemplary young man for attending uni and holding down a ‘respectable’ job.

‘Respectable’. What makes a job respectable, Hob wonders. Perhaps it’s that he’s not stripping or whoring himself out. Or running a cam service.

Cam service.

Hob swears to himself, startling his family at the dinner table. His mother admonishes him for his language, despite the fact that the twins curse just as often as he does, and Max and Maggie have heard far worse. But he doesn’t care. He’d completely forgotten. How?

He forces himself to eat his dinner at a normal pace, even helps clean up as an apology to his mum for swearing around his siblings. As soon as she shoos him away, Hob nearly sprints up the stairs to his old bedroom.

It’s Friday which means, if he’s held to the pattern, wetdream has a showing tonight. Right about… now, actually. Hob hurries to log into his account and skims the listings until he finds the name of the correct live-cam. Blowing out a breath of relief that his card hasn’t been declined, he locks his bedroom door then sits on his bed, leaning against the wall.

The video is dark still, and Hob chews on his thumbnail as he wonders what wetdream could possibly be doing to prepare. He’s already growing hard just with the mental images of all the possibilities. He could be stroking himself until he’s erect, opening himself up for a plug to keep him ready for toys.

Hob’s thoughts stutter as the feed begins. wetdream sits on his bed already, legs crossed and showing off the high heels and stockings he wears. The sheer, black corset he’s donned accentuates the straight lines of his body, and it would look awkward on anyone else. But on him, Hob thinks it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

hobgoblin: hello beautiful

Hob has never witnessed anyone truly lighting up like this, not outside of Maggie on Christmas morning when their parents had given her a guinea pig. But wetdream does now. He doesn’t smile, his expression doesn’t change, but there’s something in his eyes that gives away his delight. Hob’s chest fills with a warmth he can’t describe. He’s the reason wetdream is so happy right now. He has to be.

Something about wetdream’s room is different. It takes Hob a moment to place it: He’s moved his bed. He’s moved his bed to make room for the silver pole in the centre of the room. A shiver slides down Hob’s spine at the thought of what’s to come.

Hob doesn’t send any messages while he watches wetdream work. And work wetdream does. He doesn’t strip this time, not really, but that’s fine. He’s gorgeous regardless as he undulates his hips against the pole, as he spins and nearly hovers off the floor, held firmly up by his thighs against the metal. Hob hides the chat-box when someone says it could be their pole that wetdream works.

Hob nearly comes to the sight of blue eyes staring directly into the camera and a kissable lower lip caught between teeth as wetdream plunges his hand between waist and lacy underwear. As he pulls his cock free. As he strokes himself teasingly, like he wants to put on one helluva show, and maybe he does. Hob lets himself imagine that it’s all for him. He comes a split second after wetdream does.

wetdream licks cum from his hand, and Hob wishes it was him doing it.

He’s just hovered over the X to close out of the tab, feed gone dark once more, when a chat-box pops up in the bottom of his screen.

wetdream: Tomorrow night, midnight. hobgoblin: ?? wetdream: You will see.

Hob raises a brow even as no further messages come in. Deciding to not ask more questions, he closes the tab and reaches for the tissues on his nightstand. He feels like a teenager again, going through puberty and too many tissues to be inconspicuous. He huffs out a laugh as he tosses the tissues into the bin under his desk.

━━━━━━━━━

It’s ten to midnight, and Hob is already logged in. Waiting. His heart races in his chest, and his palms have gone clammy. He repeatedly wipes them on his bare thighs; no point in wearing bottoms, is there, when he’s just going to shove them down in minutes?

A chat-box appears with two minutes to spare. All it contains is an invite link. There is no host information, just a site bot doing the work. Hob knows, though. He knows, so he clicks Accept without hesitation.

He isn’t disappointed: wetdream appears within seconds. The pole is nowhere to be found now, and the bed is back in its original position. He’s wearing the heels again, and Hob stifles a groan low in his throat at how they make wetdream’s legs look even longer. Other than the shoes, he’s completely nude. Hob watches him tap at the screen of his tablet as he settles in on the bed.

wetdream: I get one free credit to give per month. I chose you. hobgoblin: i’m flattered. thank you. wetdream: I have a request of you tonight, if you are amenable to that? hobgoblin: anything, beautiful wetdream: Tell me what you would do to me were you to be here. Tell me what you want of me. hobgoblin: gladly. lie back and let me see you. hobgoblin: god, you’re fucking beautiful. you listen so well.

Hob doesn’t mind that wetdream’s attention isn’t on him, it’s on the messages coming in on the tablet, as Hob tells every dirty fantasy he’s carried with him over the last four months. He’d kiss wetdream until they were both breathless, unable to speak. He’d suck wetdream’s cock until he was coming down Hob’s throat. Hob would bring wetdream to his knees and fuck his mouth before coming all over his face. He’d bend the gorgeous, perfect man over the nearest surface, open him up so slowly and gently, then fuck him until they were too exhausted to move anymore. He’d fuck him with the points of wetdream’s heels digging into his back, leaving bruises to remind Hob of their union.

Or maybe, maybe, Hob would let wetdream fuck him into the mattress. He has a feeling the man is hiding some serious strength in that slender body of his.

hobgoblin: play with your arse, love, beautiful one. come when you want, i’m watching.

wetdream nods rapidly, hand nearly a blur as he jerks himself off. He clenches his teeth, eyes squeezing closed, then his release is spilling free over his fist and abdomen. Some even manages to reach his chest.

It takes Hob an embarrassingly short amount of time to come after that.

You have a way with words, wetdream messages once he’s cleaned himself up, something he’s never done on camera before.

hobgoblin: only for you wetdream: You stayed away for quite some time. I hope all is well?

And is that… That’s apprehension, nervousness, on wetdream’s face. Hob groans at that before typing out yeah, everything is fine. sorry to make you worry. Something twists in wetdream’s expression, and he scowls at the screen.

wetdream: I did not worry. I was merely curious. wetdream: Have a good night, hobgoblin. hobgoblin: it’s hob.

The video cuts out but not before Hob sees wetdream mouthing his name to himself. Hob wipes away his mess then crawls into bed.

There is no live-cam the next week or the next. There is no live-cam until Hob is back at uni, six weeks after the free private show.

Hob still calls wetdream beautiful, but wetdream doesn’t seem to notice. Or care.

It’s almost Christmas by the time anything changes. Matthew refuses to leave the room, moping about being so far from home during the holidays, and Hob takes pity on the young man. He invites Matthew to spend Christmas with the Gadling family. Matthew grins and accepts cheerily; any sense of melancholy is gone now, as if a demon banished by an exorcism.

Andrew protests but finally concedes to giving up his room for Matthew, to sharing a bed with Maxwell. Hob, thankfully, gets his room to himself still. It’s bad enough sharing a room as a grown adult, but to share a bed? He’d rather sleep outside in the snow.

Hob waits until the others are in bed before locking his door and opening his laptop. He highly doubts wetdream would be hosting a showing tonight, so near to Christmas, but he wants to check anyway. A site bot has sent another message: Happy Christmas followed by a link.

Hob clicks.

wetdream: You were right. I was… concerned. I grew accustomed to you being in the viewer list, to your messages calling me beautiful.

Hob grins, shaking his head, and types back: you’re forgiven, beautiful.

wetdream: I thought perhaps I could show my remorse by giving you an early Christmas present. hobgoblin: far be it from me to turn down a gift ;)

wetdream smiles on camera, a shy little thing, before sitting back in his seat, showing more than just his head. He’s wearing a red negligee with a ribbon wrapped around his throat, tied in a bow beneath his chin. He chews on his bottom lip, and Hob realises with a start he’s wearing lipstick. Not much, just enough to give more colour, and he’s never wanted to kiss wetdream this much before.

His cock stirs, and he has to agree with the sentiment. This is—

hobgoblin: you are absolutely stunning, love, darling dream come true wetdream: Thank you, but just Dream is acceptable.

Dream. Fucking Hell, of course he’d want to be called Dream. And what a dream he is. Hob pinches himself to make sure this is real, that this is wetdream—Dream—baring himself as a present for Hob.

hobgoblin: it suits you. can i ask you to show me more of you?

Dream—God, fucking Dream—dips his chin and stands. The camera fills with the spread of sheer red and a half-hard cock in a thatch of black hair, then Dream steps back. Hob nods in approval at what he sees, the most perfect present he’s ever received, and types out a request for Dream to surprise him tonight. He wants to know how Dream would please him, by his own choices.

Dream obeys because he always does. He opens himself up, fucks himself on the dildo from before, as he types out a wish that it was Hob filling him. That it was Hob who was stroking his dick and that Hob would leave bruises on his skin to remind him of everything wonderful. He promises he gives the best blowjobs of anyone he knows—he should know, there was a competition involved. He’d make Hob so happy if Hob were there.

hobgoblin: come for me, love. god, i’ve missed seeing you like this. just for me, aren’t you?

Dream taps something, then “Only for you” comes through Hob’s speakers, a low whine of a voice that sends a shiver down Hob’s spine. Breathless pants, and a broken “Only for you, Hob.”

Hob comes at the sound of his name falling from such beautiful, kissable lips.

“Dream, fuck, Dream,” Hob groans, cum dripping down his fist, and he watches as Dream reaches his own climax on-screen.

He hesitates as Dream cleans up, as Dream approaches the computer once more. Throwing caution to the wind, he hurriedly types his phone number into the chat-box and bites down on the edge of his thumbnail as Dream reads the message. His eyes widen, gaze darting to the camera, and Hob can hear the quickening of his breath.

“Hob…”

hobgoblin: you don’t have to use it. just wanted you to have it just in case you wanted to. happy early christmas, dream of mine.

Dream closes out of the live-cam without response.

━━━━━━━━━

Unknown Number: Are you busy?

Hob stares at the text. It’s Christmas morning, and he’s meant to be downstairs right now. But he has a feeling he knows who’s texting him two days after he gave them the number in the first place.

Hob: Not if this is who I think it is.

The maybe-mysterious texter sends back a photograph of a very familiar body. Hob’s gaze trails along the well-known stature, the valleys and curves of muscle and the fine delicacy of bones. He’s just lined his camera up to take a picture of his own when someone knocks on the door.

“C’mon, Robbie, Mum won’t let us open presents until you come down!”

“I’ll be right there, Mags.”

“You better, or I’m throwing all yours in the fireplace.”

Her footsteps stomp back down the stairs, and Hob laughs quietly before typing out a message.

Hob: Happy Christmas, Dream. I, unfortunately, have a little sister who’s threatening the very survival of my gifts if I don’t get downstairs now. Luckily, she can’t take you from me, can she? 😉 Dream: No. She cannot. Happy Christmas, Hob.

Somehow, his parents have scrounged up gifts for Matthew. Hob has a feeling they were originally meant to be for him, but he’s willing to give up a few presents if it means making his friend happy and feel included. After presents have been put away, there comes breakfast, and Matthew fits in perfectly. He’s on his best behaviour which is a side to him Hob never thought he’d see.

All in all, it’s a pleasant time that only exacerbates the buzzing joy in his veins that comes from having Dream.

He knows it isn’t real. That Dream doesn’t truly care for him. That Dream saying he was only Hob’s was meant to make Hob feel special, to make him willing to pay more money. But goddamn it, Hob wants to hold onto the charade just a while longer. He’ll face reality soon enough. Now is not the time.

He eventually sends a photo of himself to Dream. Might as well let the man see who he’s been giving free private shows to. Might as well show him what he’s getting if only he knew.

Two weeks after the start of term finds Hob roaming around the campus. He’s been attending this university for two years, and there is still so much he doesn’t know about it. Once his face is sufficiently, painfully numb, he ducks into the campus coffeeshop and joins the queue. He needs caffeine and heat. Now.

He turns with his latte in hand, coming to a stop at the sight of two people at the corner table. One is a dark-skinned woman with gold wire-rimmed glasses, wearing an impeccable peacoat and trousers. The other…

The other is clearly Dream.

Hob would recognise that hair anywhere. The pale skin, the blue eyes shining in the weak January sunlight. The woman glances over, frowns, then says something. Dream’s lips tug down, and he turns his head to follow her gaze. His eyes widen when they land on Hob. His lips move, but Hob can’t understand what he’s saying.

Hob approaches the table slowly, carefully, as if the earth will open up and swallow him whole. Instead, he reaches the table without issue, and he smiles down at Dream.

“Hi.”

Dream lets out a soft sigh, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before he glances at his friend. “Lucienne, I’m afraid I must go.”

“Oh. Of course. I’ll phone you later.”

Dream merely nods, rising to his feet, and Hob moves aside so he can pass. Once outside and halfway down the block, Dream turns to him and opens his mouth. No words come, not for a long moment, then Hob interrupts.

“You’re more beautiful in person.”

Dream exhales sharply, fists the lapels of Hob’s jacket, and pushes him against the brick wall of a building. Hob barely gets out a sound of surprise before Dream is kissing him. Heat floods Hob’s veins, his skin, his entire being as he focuses on the taste of coffee and mint and Dream, oh fuck, is this really happening? He wraps his arms around Dream’s waist, tugs him in closer, and yes. This is real.

“I have been wanting to do that since Christmas,” Dream admits when he pulls away.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the first time I saw you.” He pauses, leans forward to kiss Dream once more. “Come back to mine?”

Dream nods and lets Hob lead him away.

Thankfully, Matthew is at class by the time Hob unlocks the door. He shuts it quickly behind Dream, pinning the man between body and wood, and kisses him again. And again. He makes quick work of unbuttoning Dream’s long coat, of sliding his hand along the hard plane of Dream’s abdomen, to wrap around his hip.

“What do you want me to do?” Dream whispers, and Hob nips at his bottom lip. “Hob…”

“Let me see you, love. I need to see you.”

Dream doesn’t bother putting on a show as he strips down to nothing, leaving his clothes in a pile at his feet. Hob groans and drops to his knees, presses a soft kiss to the head of Dream’s cock. Beautiful, he whispers before taking it in his mouth.

Dream shouts, hand immediately burying in Hob’s hair, and that’s all it takes. Hob sucks and licks and swirls his tongue around the head, takes Dream in all the way to the root until his nose is buried in coarse hair. Swallows around the cock in the back of his throat until Dream comes with a bitten-off cry and quivering thighs.

Opening Dream up is a fucking glorious gift from Heaven. He whines so wonderfully, shoves down onto Hob’s fingers with wanton moans, obeys when Hob tells him to roll onto his belly. Arse on display, Dream shudders as Hob runs a hand along his flank, lets out a broken sound when Hob pushes in. And Hob could die with that sound. He does as he promised so long ago: He fucks Dream in alternating patterns, rough countered by tender, until Dream is panting and Hob’s arms tremble from holding himself up.

Someone knocks on the door. Matthew’s voice calls for Hob, “I forgot my key, open up.”

“Go the fuck away,” Hob grits out, sliding his hand beneath Dream’s body to grasp onto his cock.

Hob comes first, out of breath and satisfied as he spills into Dream with abandon. He presses a soft kiss to Dream’s shoulder, bites down on the smooth skin.

“Come for me, my dream. Let me feel you.”

Dream’s breath comes out in a shuddering sob, and he thrusts forward into Hob’s tight grip over and over, moving between fist to cock then back again. Hob bites down harder, soothing the spot with his tongue.

“Come,” he all but growls into the skin.

Dream does.

Hob pulls Dream to the side once he’s finished, holds him close out of the mess he’s made, and Dream exhales shakily. Hob runs a gentle hand along Dream’s stomach and kisses the curve of his neck.

“I know this is a bit backwards,” he murmurs as soon as he catches his breath again, “but have dinner with me.”

Dream hums in response, nodding slowly, and Hob realises he’s fallen asleep when there comes the sound of soft snores. Deciding class can wait for another day, he burrows his face into the back of Dream’s neck and lets himself drift away. He can deal with Matthew later.

(Matthew retaliates by telling Hob’s mother all about her son’s new boyfriend.)