#it is very likely at least *some* of them read this. and i'd find it hard to believe showrunners are unaware of it

[evesaintyves]

Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, rated M, eleven 200-word drabbles. Warning for mentions of abortion.

 She must have fallen asleep. She thinks it’s a fly crawling up her neck, for a minute, and nearly swats it before she realises it’s his mouth. Her heart gives a squeeze that is aching at the same time that it is sweet—how little it takes from him, these days, to wring a few drops of nervous hope from that tired old thing. But she turns to him, anyway, and they don’t speak but he kisses her a little, and fuck, there goes her gormless heart again.

Read it on Ao3.

I wanted to say a few things about what went into this fic below - and I will be talking about abusive relationships and abortion from a secular, pro-abortion-on-demand perspective, so if that's likely to trouble you I recommend giving it, and the fic, a miss.

This story is set around chapter 7 of Deathly Hallows, "The Will of Albus Dumbledore," when Lupin and Tonks leave Harry's birthday party to avoid being seen by Rufus Scrimgeour. This period of canon gives us several glimpses into how Lupin & Tonks's relationship is going and it strikes me as a really scary and unsafe time for Tonks. Lupin's unhappiness is so evident even Harry notices it, while she's described as "radiant," - meaning pregnant, but also that they're clearly not on the same page. Around this time we see Tonks facing some of the disturbing realities of being married to Lupin: Bellatrix's pursuit of her in the battle of seven Potters, having to flee from her boss so he doesn't see them together. Tonks's mentor is dead (and we see when that happens that Lupin's not all that interested in supporting her as she's reeling from it), Tonks's family is pretty unhappy with her (according to Lupin), things are unraveling.

(I'd like to point you to two takes I really love on how off-kilter their interactions are right before this, around the time Mad-Eye dies: Fallen Warrior by @bikelock28 and Mandible by @saintsenara - both of these authors have had a huge influence on my writing and my thinking about hp canon.)

I've always been kind of obsessed with this particular moment between Lupin and Tonks - when we see Lupin seize Tonks by the wrist and haul her out of the burrow. It's an alarming interaction, to me, that suggests the possibility of a very frightening dynamic setting up between them. Tonks is an adult, she's aware of the consequences of being seen together. I'm not even convinced she had to leave in the first place instead of changing her appearance or just making herself scarce upstairs for a while. There's no argument that leads Lupin to grabbing her out of desperation - he just says bye to Harry and hauls her away. Not by the hand, like he's trying to keep her from tripping or something. By the wrist, so she can't let go, which seems even more likely to unbalance her. It's a dismissal of her autonomy at the very least, he's treating her a bit like a child, and it's probably quite embarrassing for Tonks. The way she makes excuses for it the next day, in the context of everything else we're seeing about this relationship, only makes it all seem unhealthier. If I witnessed this interaction between a friend and her new husband, I'd be checking on her.

And in the midst of this rapidly-disintegrating relationship with this escalatingly-discontent and reactive husband - Tonks is finding out that she's pregnant, something that will complicate things even further and tie her to a man who does not really seem to want to be with her.

This fic came to be as I was thinking about the way Lupin talks about Tonks in "The Bribe," when he reveals that she's pregnant and they've split up, in a way that respresents this development as something abhorrent and humiliating but also downplays his culpability for it: ...then Lupin said, with an air of forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, "Tonks is going to have a baby." And how devastating that attitude might be for a Tonks who is happily pregnant.

But we don't really know how happy she is to be pregnant. We never hear about it from her. We see her as radiant in an early appearance, sure, and the baby ends up getting born, but that's all we really have to go on. And I have to wonder what options Tonks might have had if she didn't want to be pregnant or wasn't sure. She'd have had access to a legal abortion through the muggle health system up to 24 weeks, but there's evidence in canon that wizards are fearful of and disgusted by muggle medical practices (e.g. Arthur's stitches in OoTP). And wizarding society seems pretty regressive in some respects: people get married and have children young, there's no mention of divorce or blended families or out-of-wedlock babies - and yes, that's also because these are childrens' books (and books that privilege a certain kind of familial love above all else) but this is the text and the universe we have to work with. Notably, the immortal human soul demonstrably exists in this world and I think it's pretty safe to assume that most people believe in it - it seems to be pretty common knowledge that a dementor can remove the soul from the body and that ability is encoded into the wizarding penal system. What does that mean for abortion access in that world? Do wizards believe that an embryo or a fetus is an ensouled person and that it would be murder, or something like that, to terminate it? Even if a magical abortion is legal, what are cultural attitudes toward it like under this belief system? How difficult or inconvenient is it? I'll leave the particulars of how the wizarding legal and medical systems function to someone smarter than me, but... I work in health care, and I've seen the ways that even vague or minor barriers to access - stigma, embarrassment, misinformation, wait times or travel requirements, the levels of executive function and emotional regulation required to keep multiple appointments and talk to a bunch of providers about a sensitive issue - mean that some people who need care won't get it. We don't really know if Tonks unreservedly chose to keep her pregnancy, or if she just didn't have meaningful access to another option, or if access was just hard or unpleasant enough that she didn't make a decision until it was too late.

There's a tendency in some Remadora fic— including one of mine, in a way I didn't think much about until later—to frame the hypothetical of Teddy being aborted as a regrettable tragedy, thankfully averted by the power of true love, and not as a reasonable response to the difficult circumstances and something everyone might have moved on from and been fine - and I think that's understandable. Teddy's important to trajectory of Tonks and Lupin's lives. It's okay to love these characters and want everyone to be as happy and whole as their situations allow. And I think that we have some (at least mildly gendered) expectations that of course our faithful Tonks wants to stay married, wants a child with the person she loves. But I wanted to depict this slice of their relationship with sympathy for a Tonks who is seriously considering ending her pregnancy - who has at least as much reason as Lupin to just want shut of the whole thing. I would have, in her position. I have seen friends locked into horrible situations with abusive partners by pregnancy.  I think you could argue that not having Teddy and getting out of that relationship might have meant a different outcome for Tonks in the battle of Hogwarts. And I think that it's entirely possible for Tonks to have wanted an abortion that she didn't end up getting - for whatever legal, cultural, or psychological reasons - and for Teddy to still have been a welcome and loved child when he was born.

Anyway, let me know what you think.

[image: from francis bacon, three studies of figures on beds, 1972]

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent lounging babey images

[medicinemane]

Honestly a lot of the time, it's not even about people having to agree with me, it's about needing to know that they actually heard and listened to what I had to say even if it didn't persuade them

Just... some basic indication that there's enough respect to give a shit about what I said, and also to make sure that they disagree because they actually disagree and not cause they just didn't bother listening

It's all I really ask

[ectonurites]

I don't have fully formed thoughts on the matter but my brain has just been rotating these two images around next to each other for days. interpret that as you will

(Crisis on Infinite Earths #12, published December 1985/cover date March 1986)

(Stranger Things S4E9, takes place in March 1986)

[ame-to-ame]

the thing abt btr is i really wanna see more characterization/ ixn but i don't think anything i write will be able to capture the essence of the source material :(

[eudikot]

I have so much creativity building up while I am force to focus on finals so when I have time again...

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 2

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.  Chapter Summary: Try as he might, Joel just can’t shake the memory of you. Try as you might, you can’t stop thinking of the woman tied to his desk. CW: The slow burn is burning. Mentions of death and underage drinking. Topless in public, this is a love story about BDSM after all. Reader does have some physical descriptions, so maybe more of an OFC, or just pretend you have pouty lips and a slightly upturned nose. Double POV (reader and Joel). AN: Thank you SO FUCKING MUCH for all the love on chapter one of this story. I literally cannot believe it surpasses 1000 notes in just a month, you're all insane and I love you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Biiiig shout outs to the bb's who have been so supportive of me spiralling and panicking this last month over the next chapter. I'd be in a deep dark cave without you @mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk and @milla-frenchy . Thank you! I feel like I'm giving some sort of Oscars speech and if you're still reading this, you're the real MVP. XO Word Count: 8.5k

~ Joel - 27 Years Ago ~

Joel’s stands in the garage of someone he barely knows, surrounded by drunk and rowdy classmates from his high school. He’s a senior, graduating in just a few weeks and moments like this are one of the perks of being the star designated hitter and first baseman, everyone wants you at their party. Someone hands him a warm, flat beer that was pumped poorly from a keg as they pat his back roughly in congratulations. Joel’s not sure how a bunch of seventeen year olds managed to get a keg, most likely an older brother, but he drinks the shitty beer all the same. Speaking of brothers, he hasn’t seen Tommy in a while. He’s only fifteen and he promised their mom he’d keep an eye on him. The younger Miller shouldn’t be at a seniors party, but that's where those perks come in again, because if Joel was good, Tommy was better. In fact, he was so much better that he’s played up a whole age group his entire life, always right beside Joel. Tommy was the back catcher, and tonight he got the eleventh inning game winning out at home for them to win the state championship. 

He finds Tommy chatting with a group of girls, all of whom are incredibly beautiful. They’re going to be very disappointed when they find out how much younger he is than them. Joel smiles into his red solo cup as he takes a sip of stale beer. He tucks his free hand into the pocket of his light blue wranglers and walks over to the wall of the garage. He leans back and crosses one cowboy booted foot over the other. The brim of his cowboy hat grazes the unpainted drywall behind him. Texas, and the country, in the late nineties was where everyone wanted to be, and Joel Miller could have been the poster boys for teenage country boys in 1997.

Brooks & Dunn plays on someone's CD player in the corner, laughter and people talking overlaps until it’s just noise to Joel. He stands back, watching his younger brother effortlessly charm the five pretty girls around him. All of them in tight blue jeans, lacy white tops, denim vests and cowboy boots. He grabs one by the hand and Joel overhears, “I’ll teach ya how to two step, shame to not know in a place like this.” Then the motherfucker winks at her like he’s some sort of cowboy Casanova. Joel lets out a silent laugh through his nose and sips the beer again shaking his head. 

Just as Tommy pulls the pretty little blonde over towards the unmarked and unofficial dance floor in the corner of the garage the song changes. Slow guitar, followed by the unmistakable twang of Tim Magraw’s voice. Joel didn’t know it then, but that song would change the course of his life and intertwine itself in the very fabric of his being.

‘Dancin’ in the dark, Middle of the night’

That’s when he sees her, tall and slender, deep olive toned skin and pale green eyes. Her dark curly hair cascades over one of her shoulders. She’s laughing with another classmate, and even though he can’t hear the sound of it over the noise of the party, he can tell it’s a light and melodic sound, and he wants to spend the rest of his life drawing that out of her. 

‘Takin’ your heart, An holdin’ it tight’

He puts his warm beer on the work bench beside him and takes off his black felt Stetson, placing it over his broad chest, hoping the comfort of his favourite hat would slow the rate at which his heart is beating. 

‘Emotional touch, Touchin’ my skin, And askin’ you to do, What you’ve been doin’ all over again’

She looks over at him, smiling shyly, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s walking over to her. His legs move on their own accord, knees shaking as he approaches the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

‘Oh, it’s a beautiful thing, Don’t think I can keep it all in, I just gotta let you know, What is that won’t let me go’

Everything in the room fades as she fully comes into view. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe the girl in front of him. She radiates a warmth that he’s only ever known his mother to radiate. It’s the first time he’s ever seen this girl, but she feels like home. This is it, that one thing that everyone says you’re supposed to feel. The thing his grandpa told him when he was younger, “Son, you’ll just know. It sounds ridiculous, but when I saw your grandma it was like a pull behind my belly button. I just knew, and I’ve known everyday since then.”

“Howdy, ma’am,” Joel says, tipping his hat to her before placing it back on his head. 

She giggles, confirming his earlier thoughts. It really is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard. “Hi.”

He holds out a hand to her and she takes it, her skin is so warm and smooth. In that moment he knows that hers will be the last hand he ever holds. Fire flushes through his veins as he continues, “I’m Joel, what’s your name?”

“Oh, I know who you are Joel Miller,” she flirts, not letting go of his hand. “I’m Tiffany.”

“Tiffany,” he repeats, his voice going deeper as he says it. It’s egotistical but he loves the way girls shiver just a little when he lowers his register. “And how is it that you know who I am?”

She slides her hand from his and reaches up to grab his cowboy hat, plopping it onto her head. “Star first baseman and designated hitter, everyone knows Joel Miller. Look around, look at all these girls lookin’ at you, cowboy.”

For the first time in his life Joel finds himself blushing, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Tiffany. 

“I only see one girl.” She rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep at the cheesy line, but that was it for both of them. From that point they were inseparable. 

They both turned eighteen a few months later, and just ten months, and a thirty two hour labour after Tiff turned eighteen, a tiny little Sarah came into the world all pink and screaming. Joel hears that song again as he watches Tiffany hold that little bundle of blankets, ‘Better than I was, More than I am, And all of this happened, By taking your hand.’

They get married when Sarah is just a few months old. Both his beautiful curly haired girls in white dresses, Tiffany grabbing that same black Stetson off his head during their first dance. He holds them both, swaying from side to side, a hot tear rolling down his cheek at how goddamn happy he is. ‘And who I am now, Is who I wanted to be, And now that we’re together, I’m stronger than ever, I’m happy and free’.

Things for their little family of three are perfect. They buy the house with the white picket fence and the wrap around porch. Joel gets a job working construction and enjoys a nightcap with his beautiful young wife on their front porch every night. They make love often, slow and sweaty, Joel worshiping her soft copper toned skin inch by glorious inch. Tiffany wraps every minute of her day around Sarah and being a sweet, devoted housewife. Nothing seems to stand in their way. Until the diagnosis shortly before Sarah starts Kindergarten. 

Tiffany is too young, they’re all too young. This isn’t something that happens to people their age, they haven’t had enough time. Joel spends the next few months in a haze, it has to be a bad dream. The appointments, the treatments, the call to 911 when the illness starts to win. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. 

He holds Tiffany until the very end. Sponging a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering his goodbyes as they shut off the machines keeping her here. “You’ve been so strong, my love. You fought so hard. I know you’re scared to go, I’m scared too, but we’ll do it like we do everything else. Together. I’ll be ok, Sarah will be ok. Just rest now. I love you.” 

As she takes her last shaky and shallow breath, a sound will live with him until he takes a breath that matches hers, that song echoes through his hollow chest. ‘It’s your love, It does something to me, It sends a shock right through me, I can’t get enough’.

You - Present Day

You roll to a stop outside Mister Miller’s house for your second day of cleaning. As you look towards the impressive house your pussy flutters at the memories of yesterday - the almost pornographic noises that were made in that office, his soft and kind eyes as he apologized profusely in the kitchen. You were supposed to go to a study group last night, but instead you got lost in a rabbit hole of porn where women are tied up and fingered. You got yourself off four times thinking about a man you’re not even supposed to know, wishing it was his thick fingers hitting that spot inside of you that you can’t reach on your own. You felt guilty about it last night and now being back in his home you have that same sinking feeling again. 

Stupid. Sacrificing my future for a fantasy. Never again. 

You let yourself in the house and look at the list in your cleaning app. You pop in your AirPods and start listening to your favourite true crime podcast; thankful for the new episode, a gruesome distraction as you scrub baseboards and lightswitches. The episode ends and in an attempt to not let your mind wander to the gorgeous man that lives here, and the depraved new things you’ve discovered about yourself, you start an educational audiobook about civil rights law. You might want Joel Miller to strap you down and whisper filth in your ears, but you are a good person, and your aspiration in life is to help people who face discrimination on a daily basis. 

You breeze around his home, checking off each task and before you know it it’s almost one in the afternoon. You have almost your whole list complete, his soft sheets are in the dryer (and yes, you are incredibly proud of yourself for only putting the luxurious white fabric to your face twice on the way to the washer). You only have the patio furniture to spray down and the kitchen counters to wipe. That’s when your stomach growls, almost as if to remind you that it’s the perfect time to take a break while the dryer finishes. You haul all your stuff out to your car and lock up, sitting in your front seat as you take out your lunch container.

An engine revs in the distance and your heart skips in your chest. Before you even have time to wonder if it’s Joel’s car, one of the black garage doors slides open and Joel’s obsidian coloured Aston Martin rolls by you, stopping with precision on the shiny cement floor of the garage. You avert your eyes, focused on your container of chicken noodle soup. The left side of your face feels the warmth of his gaze fixed on you. Without looking over you can tell he is studying you and it takes everything you have to keep your eyes on your measly lunch. 

The afternoon sun is blocked as Joel raps his knuckles on your window. You glance over at him, looking up through your lashes. He’s looking at you intensely but you can’t quite place his expression. As always, his deep brown eyes are locked on yours, he could either be happy to see you or incredibly disappointed in you. But one thing is for sure, he’s calculating your every need with those warm and inviting eyes. He knocks again so you crank the handle to roll your window down a crack.

He raises one eyebrow at you, both hands rest on the roof of your SUV as he leans forward to speak to you through the small opening in the window. “Seriously?” His voice is laced with sarcasm. 

“What?” You say, “Can’t be too safe.”

He blinks at you before continuing, “What'd ya doin’ out here?”

You lift your tupperware container a little, willing the tingles between your thighs to stop, “Eating my lunch.”

He rolls his eyes, running his hand along his greying scruff. “You’re eatin’ lukewarm soup in your car in the middle of February.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, but his voice is warm and curious, and you start to realize that the look on his face isn’t happiness or disappointment, but concern. 

You nod, “Yes.” His eyes dance around your face and you swear your heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Fluttering so fast that it’s traveling up your throat and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. 

“Get out of the car. Come warm that up and eat inside.” His voice is thick with concern, entire face soft as he looks at you. 

You swallow your heart back down to where it belongs, “I’m not allowed to do that, Mister Miller.”

His cheeks redden a little and some of the softness in him disappears, “Don’t call me that, it’s jus’ Joel to you.”

“I’m not even supposed to know your name, Mister Miller. I can’t call you by your first name.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and points a thick finger at you through your window, “Don’t. Either you call me Joel or nothin’ at all. Come inside,” he drops his pointer finger to the door handle. He pulls on it to find it locked. “Seriously?”

“I told you, I can’t be too safe!” You can help but think how cute he looks all flustered - shaking his head at you for being cautious in a neighborhood where you could probably scream your credit card number and no one would use it. If anything, the wealthy homeowners on this street might transfer you money when they see the state of your vehicle. 

“You’re eatin’ inside.” He says flatly. 

“I told you, I can’t. We aren’t allowed to do that. You’re a client, Mist - I mean. Sorry, I just can’t. We aren’t allowed.” You glance towards the clock on your dash. At this rate your break is going to be over before you finish eating. 

He jiggles the door handle again, as if he can convince the metal to bend and unlatch itself with just his sexiness alone. “You like rules, don’t ya?”

He’s got you there, you do enjoy following the rules. You nod and hum a noise in agreement. 

“Unlock the door, please,” his voice has changed, he’s being more commanding now. A deeper, huskier sound leaving his lips. The sound seems to latch onto something deep in your mind, strong fingers wrapping around the control center of your brain, guiding you to do his bidding. You blink the feeling away. 

“Mister-,” his eyes flash with darkness, “Sorry. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right to eat in your house, plus my break is almost over.”

Joel releases your door handle, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and lets out a breath, as he drops his hand back to the top of your vehicle an amused smirk flashes across his face. “Do you consider yourself to work in customer service?”

“Yes,” you say nervously.

“And isn’t the main rule of customer service that the customer is always right?” His lips form a tight line and a deep dimple carves into one of his tanned cheeks. Your brain flashes back to one of the videos you watched last night, a man sucking on a woman's nipples as he rubbed her clit, her arms and legs strapped to a padded table. He had a dimple, but he had nothing on Joel. 

“Yes,” you croak and then clear your throat gently, shifting in your seat at the fire building behind that bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

“Then unlock the door, darlin’ and eat inside.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, turning and walking towards the house. He stops on the front step, opening the large glass front door. You follow, flip flops slapping on the concrete, carrying your powdered chicken noodle soup and plastic spoon up towards his fancy home. When you reach the threshold, he holds out his large hand palm up and you place the old, stained tupperware with your half eaten soup into it. He looks down at it and then back at you, eyes trailing along your body and it feels like he’s running a torch over you. “Is this all you have to eat?”

You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile. 

He cocks his head towards the kitchen and one pushed back curl that’s laced with a few greys falls into his eyes with the movement. In order to stop from pushing his loose curl back you squeeze your fists gently and head towards the stool you sat on yesterday. As your flip flop hits the tile you stop and look back towards your car nervously. “I, umm, I forgot my shoes.”

His large, warm palm comes to your lower back and he pushes you gently towards the kitchen. You sit as he transfers your soup into a matte black bowl and places it in the microwave. He opens a cupboard and pulls out a loaf of fresh bread, as you go to protest he flicks his eyes up to yours and something about the expression on his face tells you not to argue with him. He pops the two carefully cut pieces into the toaster. He breezes effortlessly around the kitchen for someone so broad and masculine. You didn’t realize someone making toast could be so sexy. The microwave beeps and he grabs a gold spoon from a drawer before wandering around the island, placing them both in front of you. His arm brushes yours as he pulls away and your heart flutters at his touch. He walks back around the kitchen island and grabs a glass. 

“Still or sparkling?” He says as if that’s just a normal question to ask when you get someone a glass of water. Just another thing that proves you don’t belong here. The toaster pops and you jump a little. He chuckles as he grabs the toast, slathering it with butter. “Still or sparkling, darlin’?” 

You breath hitches, he’s called you darlin’ twice now. Is that just that southern charm you hear about so often, or is it more? You shake the thought from your head, there’s no way someone like him is interested in someone like you. “Still is fine, you don’t have to trouble yourself.” 

You take a spoonful of soup, blowing on it gently before putting the spoon in your mouth. Joel is watching you in the same way he was yesterday. Assessing. Observing. Calculating. It feels like he’s looking into your very soul. He slides the plate of toast and then a glass of sparkling water over to you from across the island.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “You didn’t -”

He holds his hand up, stopping you in the same way he did yesterday. “I wanted to.”

You feel your cheeks redden and you have to look away as you take a bite of toast. He’s too handsome standing in the kitchen with the afternoon sun highlighting his features. He’s wearing a black dress shirt today, the top few buttons undone, accentuating the perfectly groomed salt and pepper hair on his chest. You swallow your bite of warm, salty, buttery toast, allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the delectable flavour, holding back a moan. 

Joel clears his throat and crosses his arms across his broad chest, “So how did ya get into cleanin’ houses?”

You look up at him through your lashes. Why is he being so nice to you and taking care of you? He apologized yesterday. And after you told him it was fine he left you a massive tip. He said he wants to do this, but why? He’s rich and handsome and you can probably safely assume that that icy blonde from yesterday was his girlfriend. Unless…could she possibly be a mistress? You decide that that must be it. She’s his mistress. He has a wife. He’s just like every other rich man, cheating on his beautiful and age appropriate wife with someone much much younger than him. He’s probably terrified that you might find out who his wife is and tell her. That tip was hush money.

“I’m saving money,” you say and then shake your head, willing the thoughts in your mind to calm down. “For law school.”

“That right?” He says, raising an eyebrow at you as you take another spoonful of soup.

“Yes, I want to be a lawyer. I graduated a semester early and needed some money before going back to university. Assuming I even get accepted. This job meant I could work part time so I could study to take the LSAT again and also make good money.” You take another bite of the toast, mainly to make yourself shut up. 

He watches you the entire time, nodding along, his eyes constantly assessing. “Take the LSAT again?” he asks.

“I passed it already and applied to schools but I haven’t heard back yet. Law school is pretty competitive, so I’m going to take it again and hopefully have a better mark for the next round of college applications.” You’re talking too much, you need to shut up and just eat, but Joel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away. No one has ever listened to you like that, not even your parents.

“Next round?” He asks curiously. 

You feel your cheeks redden. You don’t want to admit to this obviously successful man in front of you that you probably won’t get accepted to any of the eight universities you applied to. “Yes. It’s competitive, and I probably won’t get in. So I’m preparing to be better the second time.”

“Where did you apply? If that’s not too forward of a question.”

“No, not too forward. Umm, a few places. Strength in numbers, I guess. Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Berkeley, Duke, University of Toronto, but I don’t think I’d survive a Canadian winter. I also applied at Notre Dame and University of Texas here in Austin.”

Joel laughs at you mentioning the Canadian winter and once you’re quiet, he looks down at his expensive dress shoes, “I, umm, I know some higher ups at UT Austin if you need me to put in a good word.”

You smile at him when he looks back up at you, “I don’t think that’s quite how it works, Joel. But thank you.”

The two of you are silent for a moment while you finish your first piece of toast. You glance up at him and he’s looking at you with that same hint of pride he had yesterday while you drank your water. He’s making you feel like eating toast is something to be proud of. You can’t explain it but his facial expression wraps around like a corset. Pulling its metaphoric laces and making you sit up taller, holding your head up higher. With just the shimmer in his deep brown eyes you feel like you could take on the world. You need to break the silence so you say, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, leaning back to rest on the countertop behind him. His arms uncross, his strong hands wrapping around the countertop on each side of his body. 

“What do you do for a living? To have all this?” You gesture around the house as you sip your sparkling water.

“A few things. I used to own a construction company, sold it a few years ago to retire but I got bored pretty quickly. Now I own a few properties, I rent them out.” You nod as you listen to him, eating your lunch. One hand rubs at his patchy, salt and pepper beard nervously before saying, “I also own a club.”

You let out a little giggle into your water glass, immediately praying that he doesn’t think that was you being rude. Of all the professions that could have come out of his mouth, owning a nightclub was the last thing you expected. Joel smiles at the sweet melodic sound leaving your lips and relief washes over you. “Why’s that so funny?” His voice is light at his inquiry. 

“It’s not,” you say after swallowing your water. He furrows his brows at you. “You just - I mean, I guess I don’t know you, but don’t seem like the nightclub type.”

“You’re right, you don’t know me. But you’re also right that I am not a nightclub type,” he states. Something about the way he says it makes you sense that that’s as far as you’re going to get with it, but you also realize that the club is probably how this man meets young women to bring home.

You put your spoon down and place your hands in your lap. “Can I umm, ask you something else?”

“Of course,” he repeats. 

“What’s with that little dinosaur toy on your coffee maker?”

He smiles and reaches over to grab it, rubbing his thumb along the faded and scuffed brown paint of the little toy. He looks down at it and a hint of sadness seems to fill his coffee and amber eyes as he looks at you. “My daughter, she umm, she got it for me from the prize box in Kindergarten after her mom -” he stops mid sentence, sadness lining his features. Joel’s not married, you roll your eyes at yourself internally for thinking the worst of him. And truthfully, you of all people know he’s not married. You clean his house, you’ve been in his bedroom, and there are no women's clothes. You’ve also been in all the spare bedrooms and there’s no chance another person lives here with him. He continues, choosing his words almost carefully, “Well, just after she was gone.”

“I’m sorry, Mister,” his eyes flash onyx for just a second, he looks lethally sexy and you swallow your words before starting again. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“It was a long time ago,” he says, placing the dinosaur back. He runs his fingers through his salt and pepper curls, letting out a little sigh. There’s a shift in him, like suddenly the world is heavier. He tries not to let it show, and maybe most people wouldn’t notice, but you see it. The slight fall in his face, a little slump in the shoulders, a breath held for just a second too long. He clears his throat gently and says, “I’ll be in my office. Eat your lunch for me, please.”

Joel

Joel closes the door of his office and rests his forehead against the smooth wooden surface. He can’t remember how much he spent on these doors when he built the house, but he would set any door that separated him from you on fire if he had to. 

Get it together, Joel.

He closes his eyes and only sees you. The way your glossy, pink lips formed a little O as you blew on your soup. The way the gold plated metal spoon slid softly along your tongue. His cock twitches in his pants and he feels the urge to throw all the spoons in his house away. 

Great, you’re jealous of a spoon. 

He shouldn’t be home. He signed a contract, and more importantly, you signed a contract. In order to protect him and you there is to be no contact between the cleaner and the client. That’s what you consented to when you took your job at Maid Discreetly, and now he’s caused you to break that contract not once, but twice. But he cannot seem to get you out of his mind, and as he sat in a meeting at his club he couldn’t focus. You were here, cleaning his home in that form fitting white polo shirt and those black pants that hugged at your hips in all the right places, and he just had to know if you were as beautiful as he remembered. Just a quick peek, he convinced himself as he made up some bullshit excuse to leave. 

When he saw you sitting in your rusty SUV you looked so innocent and pure, you were more than beautiful. The afternoon sun lighting up your high cheekbones and slender, slightly upturned nose, it gave you an almost angelic glow that temporarily took his breath away. If he had to describe you in two words he would say that you were simply ravishing. For the first time in almost thirty years he wished he still had the calming comfort of that black felt cowboy hat. But that soft Stetson went with her because she loved it so much. 

As he caught his breath and looked at you from his garage, he was overcome with an urge to bruise and corrupt you. He’s a bad man for the thoughts he's been having about you. He can’t help himself, but even in his most twisted of fantasies, he’d never do anything you didn’t want him to. But, fuck, he’s sure he could mold you into exactly what he wants in a submissive. 

Joel isn’t new to the world of kink; he’s had many subs, all of whom have referred to him as Mister Miller. However, his name has never sounded so fucking sweet as it did coming off your lips. Those two little words leaving your pouty, pink lips feel like that first sip of whiskey after a long day, and it might kill him if he doesn’t make you his. 

He sighs into the white wood of the door before standing and walking to sit behind his desk. He drops into the soft leather chair and lets his head fall back onto the headrest and closes his eyes. What is it about you? Why can’t he stop thinking about you? You’re way too young. Way too sweet. Way too…sinless. And even though he can’t explain it, and he knows you don’t know it, you’re way too “exactly-what-is-going-to-ruin-his-entire-life”. 

You’re not someone he can just play with. No, he’s good at reading people, and you’re the kind of person that deserves being invested into. You’re also not someone who is going to stick around. You have dreams and well laid out plans on how you’re going to achieve them. He can’t cage you in, he’ll have to let you spread your wings and fly no matter how much he sees himself as the man he used to be reflected back in your eyes.  

He opens his eyes and pictures you kneeling in the corner, perfectly manicured hands that he pays for you to have done weekly folded on your lap as he works. He imagines calling you over with a curl of his fingers, you crawling across the plush carpet and resting your head on his lap as he responds to emails, takes calls, or plans events. He could reach down and run his fingers through your soft, silky hair as you nuzzled deeper into his lap with your cheek. “My perfect, sweet girl,” he’d hum.  

His body falls forward, forehead hitting the sturdy wooden desk with a thump. Jesus Christ, Joel. 

It was one thing when he only found you beautiful - he could live with being attracted to you, he could find a way around it or stuff that attraction down, maybe he’d find a new sub to distract himself with. That would be easy for him, but then you had to open your mouth, you had to speak so passionately about your future. Why couldn’t you just be pretty like all the other women he plays with? You might be one of the most driven people he knows: the way you push yourself, already planning for the next “no”. And that kills him, ruins him really that you are programmed to think there will automatically be a “no” and that you’ll have to endure another round of LSAT’s and college applications. You’re smart, and he wants to kill whoever made you feel like you need to push yourself this hard. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket; annoyance courses through his body until he sees his brother's name across the pristine screen of his newest iPhone Max. 

“Ya?” He says harshly. 

“Everything ok with the alarm?” 

Joel’s mind goes blank, “What?” 

Tommy is silent for a second before he responds slowly, “The alarm? You left in the middle of a meeting because of an alarm.” 

Joel shakes his head. Right, the alarm. The bullshit excuse he made up so he could leave to see you. “Ya, right. Ya, it’s fine. Got it all, umm, all fixed up. Should be back soon.”

“You ok, brother?” Tommy asks suspiciously. “You seemed, I dunno, distracted today.” 

“I’m fine,” Joel snaps. 

“Alright. Well, come back soon, pretty big night here and we need ya.” 

Joel hangs up without saying goodbye. He’s the owner, he knows it’s a big night, but he’s sort of busy having an existential crisis over possibly being in love with his house cleaner. Whoa, in love? Pump the fucking brakes. Joel’s heart stops beating for a second at the thought of it. He can’t possibly be in love; he doesn’t fall in love. No, he decides, it’s just because she’s new, and exactly my type, and it’s been a long time since I found someone that’s my type.

Just as he stands from his desk, he hears the hose outside turn on. You must be at the pool furniture part of your list. He takes this moment to sneak out of his own house, because he’s a weak man when it comes to you, apparently. He slips into the Italian leather front seat and lets the new car smell waft over him; he loves the smells of a new sports car and has never owned one long enough for it to stop smelling that way. It’s a matter of status to him. He takes a good hard look at himself in the rear view mirror. That’s enough now. For both of your sakes. Leave her alone. 

You 

After spraying down the pool furniture you rush inside to warm up. Seriously, who needs their pool stuff cleaned in the fucking winter? As you jog up the stairs to grab Joel’s freshly laundered sheets, you blow into your cupped palms. The warmth spreads from your frozen fingertips to your palms. Joel’s office is empty; he must have left while you were outside. Your brain swirls with unanswered questions as you pull the fitted sheet back onto his king size bed. Why would he come home? First of all, he knows you’re here this time and second of all, he knows he’s not supposed to be here. So why? And then there’s his calculating stare, always watching and usually with a flash of pride in his features. Did he come back here just to talk to you? Maybe even to get to know you? 

It’s safe to say that you’re more confused than ever, and you make a mental schedule of studying and reading to keep you busy later tonight so you won’t spend hours trying to google him again.

It takes way too much effort, and a silent promise to yourself to get back to the gym, but you manage to wrestle the oversized duvet back into its cover just as three o’clock rolls around. You jog down the wide, open staircase and your phone bings in your back pocket. Jamie’s name is splayed across your cracked screen, the sunset from your last trip to California shining back at you. 

What are you doing tonight? Want to make a bunch of money serving drinks topless?

You laugh to yourself. Truthfully, nothing Jamie asks you seems to surprise you, and some sort of odd job where you’re topless or in a sexy outfit is practically a guarantee as a condition of your friendship. As you reach for the black envelope on the kitchen island you text back. 

What?

You barely have the thick parchment of the envelope open when she responds, like she already had the text locked and loaded and was just waiting for you to try to fight her on it.  

Remember Laren? My cousin? She has a topless catering company and needs help tonight. It’s at some exclusive VIP poker game downtown. 4 hours, $300 + tips.

You respond as a thousand dollars falls out of the tip envelope. 

I’m in.

Jamie picks you up a few hours later and parks her blacked out Range Rover in the alleyway behind a shiny black building in the heart of downtown. You’re once again surrounded by wealth and success thanks to Jamie. The dress code tonight is a black pencil skirt, black heels, your tits, and a bow tie that Laren will give you. Speaking of whom, Laren is holding open a staff door for you and Jamie with her hip, waving the two of you into the warmth of the building. She pulls you both into a big hug, “Thank fuck! You two saved my ass tonight. Gotta love having friends and family with great tits!”

“You’re so weird,” Jamie says, brushing past her and into the building. You follow her in before Laren ushers you towards a service elevator. 

“They’ve already started, you’re part of the second shift. I think the first set of girls made about four hundred each in tips, helps if you serve the guys that are winning though. The first round of games is almost over, winners move on soon.”

“How were their tits though? As great as ours?” You joke. Underneath the calm and collected mask you’re wearing you are definitely nervous. All these strange men are going to see you half naked, you know nothing about poker or serving drinks. Your two friends laugh as the elevator opens to a small changing room. Girls from the first shift are putting their tops back on, handing the bow ties back to Laren who gives them to you and Jamie. 

She cocks her head towards a swinging door, “Just through there when you’re done. Go to the bartender for a tray and table assignment. Two girls per table and only six seats so it should be pretty easy. Make sure you smile!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Jamie say teasingly as you strip off your tops and bras. She flips you the middle finger as she heads back out to the poker game to supervise. The cool air of the room stiffens your nipples, nerves fluttering behind your navel as you put the bow tie on.

You overhear the girls that are leaving talking about the men, “Did you see the one with the curly hair at the table by the bar?”, one says. 

The other responds, “He was so fucking hot. Total daddy, I think he owns this place.” 

A third pipes up with, “Fuck, I should have flirted more. I could use a sugar daddy.” 

As they walk towards the elevator the first girl says, “Did you know that this is a sex club? Too bad we can’t go explore the rest.” They giggle as they leave and you take a steadying breath. You’re going to be topless, in a sex club. 

“Ready?” Jamie asks, adjusting her bowtie around her slender neck. 

“Did you know this is a sex club?”

She laughs, “Ya, it’s like an exclusive kink club apparently. Laren said it’s owned by two brothers who are insanely hot. Maybe I should see if they need a maid.” She winks at you as you both walk towards the swinging door. 

You step into the dimly lit room and find the bar directly across from you. After rolling your shoulders back and down, you cross the dark hardwood floor to the bar. Everything in the room is black or deep forest green. Black paint covers the walls, your heels click against the sturdy black wooden floors, even the poker tables and chairs are black. A pop of deep green velvet only along the seats and table tops. It looks soft, like one of those fuzzy blankets you have on your couch and you fight the urge to run your hand across one of the empty tables as you pass. 

The bartender hands Jamie a tray first and then quietly tells her to go to the table in the far right corner. She sways her hips like the sultry goddess she is as she walks to the table. Relief floods through you when you notice that none of the men have raised their eyes, they’re focused intently on the card game. This isn’t some sleazy club like you initially thought when you heard ‘sex club’ leave the lips of the other servers. You relax a little at being able to just be yourself tonight, maybe a bit more naked than you’d usually be but yourself nonetheless. 

You take the black marble serving tray as the bartender points to the table closest to the bar. The curly hair man that the women were talking about in the change room faces away from you. Your heart leaps in your chest. Joel. As you approach the other server standing behind the table, he starts to turn his head. Time stops, your heart speeds up, and it starts to feel simultaneously too hot and too cold in the room all at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s turning his head in slow motion. As you catch his side profile he has the same hooked nose, in the dim light of the room you can’t see any greys along his temples and he doesn’t appear to have a beard. After what feels like an hour, his eyes finally meet yours and you let out a breath, although you aren’t sure if it’s disappointment or relief leaving your lungs. It’s not Joel Miller.

“Mind bringin’ me another Macallan neat, sweetheart?” His eyes stay locked on yours as he smiles at you sweetly. He holds the crystal glass out for you and you take it with a soft ‘yes, sir.’

Something about those eyes, and the way they flash darkly at being called sir, feels all too familiar. In the time it takes for you to take the six or seven steps to the bar you convince yourself that it’s just your brain seeing him everywhere. You tell yourself that when you bring this drink back he’ll look nothing like the man you caught knuckles deep in a woman as she cried out, nothing like the man who was so gentle and sweet, yet slightly bossy and commanding with you this afternoon. 

That’s definitely it, you say to yourself with finality. You’re just cock drunk over a cock you’ll never have. 

The bartender pops the whiskey open and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, you can feel someone looking at you. Almost feel their stare heating the right side of your body. It feels as if all of your exposed skin is being covered by the gaze of whomever is looking at you, shielding you protectively from the view of the other men. The bartender's eyes flick to the corner of the room and then back to you while he hands you the drink. The shift of his gaze confirms that you weren’t imagining it, there is someone looking at you. You place the whiskey on your tray and spin cautiously to the right, stopping dead in your tracks when you lock eyes with Joel Miller. He looks dangerous, sitting at a low table along the wall, his face just barely illuminated by a single candle on the dark wooden table top. His fingers are laced together, forearms of his black dress shirt resting on the knees of his black dress pants. His lips are pressed in a thin, disapproving line. 

He stalks over to you and you wish your tray was empty so you could shield your tits from him. The way he moves is almost menacing, like a jaguar stalking his prey, his eyes are almost black in the low light of the room. Your nipples stiffen under his intense gaze, your mouth fills with saliva and you gulp loudly. You stand frozen, the whiskey for that man you had convinced yourself isn’t related to Joel forgotten about on your tray. He plucks the drink off the marble slab, the glass looking like one of those disposable paper cups you have in your bathroom in his hand. He takes two long strides and drops the glass beside the man. 

“Thanks,” he starts to coo, a ten dollar bill clasped between two fingers. After realizing it’s not you, he adds a confused, “Brother?” 

He tries to pull the money back, but Joel is quicker. Snatching it from his brother's grasp and tucking it into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Joel turns back to you and steps in closely, your lower back hitting the cold marble bartop and you gasp, arching your back and naked breasts towards Joel. His jaw flexes as he fights to keep his eyes level with yours. 

“What are you doin’ here?” he says in a harsh whisper. 

“I’m working,” it comes out a lot more bratty and defiant than you intend it to. 

“Not here you ain’t.”

You take a small step forward, your hard nipples lightly grazing the soft fabric of his black dress shirt. “I’m not leaving.” 

His hand circles your bicep and you twist out of his grasp. “You’re makin’ a scene, darlin’.” 

“You are, Joel. I’m just trying to make money.” He grabs you more firmly this time, not tight enough to hurt you but enough for you to know he means business. 

What’s his problem anyway? He doesn’t own you. What you do outside his home is none of his business. He can boss you around via an app every other week, but that’s it. That’s where it ends. You glance desperately over at Jamie to find her back to you as she speaks softly with a man who’s waiting for the next round of poker. Her hand grazes his bicep flirtatiously, she makes it look too easy to get what she wants from men. Joel guides you towards the staff changing room, keeping your body in the dark edges of the room. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, like an angry dragon and you’re honestly surprised smoke isn’t billowing out of his nostrils. 

In the bright lights of the changing room you feel more exposed than ever. You want to lift your tray, but in order to prove to him that you don’t care what he or anyone thinks you don’t. In fact, you stand up taller, holding your head high and pushing your chest out. It’s infinitesimal but he looks down just for a nano second. You smirk when his eyes come back to you. 

“Put a shirt on.” 

“If none of the other girls have to put a shirt on then neither do I.” You pop your hip out and pull your arm free from his large calloused hand and rest it on your hip. 

“Don’t fight me on this.” 

“I’m not fighting. You are. So all those other girls are fine, but I’m not? Why? My tits aren’t big enough for you?” 

“That’s not,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath with his eyes closed. When he reopens them his eyes land softly on yours. “I just need you not to be here. Please.” 

Bright red anger sparks along the sides of your eyes. Seriously, who does he think he is? “You aren’t the boss here, Mister Miller.” 

“Do NOT call me that.” His neck flushes the same colour as your vision. You stand your ground, eyes narrowing into glaring slits. What is his aversion to being called Mister Miller, and why does it turn you on a little bit to rile him up when you use it?

“You aren’t my boss or my dad, Joel. You can’t make me leave or tell me what jobs I can or can’t take.” You’ve figuratively dug your heels in, you aren’t leaving. He can’t make you. Only Laren or whoever owns this sex club can ask that of you. “You can’t kick me out like you own the place.” 

“Actually,” he says darkly, “I can.” 

“What?” You say through a nervous breath, eyes widening. 

“I own the place. So I can kick you out, and I am kicking you out. Get your shirt.” 

Your shoulders fall slightly. You feel about two feet tall with the realization that he doesn’t want you here. This afternoon you thought that maybe he cared, he seemed like he cared, and now you’re half naked and he wants you to leave. He watches as you unclasp your bow tie and slide on your bra and shirt. 

You look over at Jamie’s clothes and it dawns on you that you didn’t drive here. Your face falls as you blink around the room and then towards Joel. 

“What’s wrong?” he says through thick concern.

“Nothing. I just…” 

He steps towards you, he’s so broad, his presence so large that you start to feel almost claustrophobic when he’s this close, but you never want him to step away. You’d happily let him smother you with his innate Joel-ness. “You just what?”

“I didn’t drive here,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands. Your left thumb nail immediately finds purchase along the cuticle of your right thumb. 

His strong palm cups your chin, lifting until he’s looking at you again. You’re becoming more and more used to the amount of eye contact Joel seems to make. He seems constantly dialed in on you when you’re in the same room.

Yes, I would be very happy to let him smother me. 

The harsh lines of his face soften, “I can get you a car. They’ll meet you at the staff door.” 

You nod into his hand and find it exceedingly hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you that way. He drops your chin and turns his large, broad body back towards the swinging door. He looks over his shoulder and says, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” His voice is soft and sad, almost as if he’s full of remorse and just hoping you won’t hate him before heading back into the poker game. Any bit of anger is flushed from your system, replaced with the disappointment of having to leave wherever Joel is.  

You drag your feet to the elevator and then towards the staff exit. You let the heavy door close behind you with a loud bang as a blacked out SUV pulls up. The driver says your first and last name as he opens the back door for you. You look towards the black building one last time. 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” 

JMKink is written in shiny metallic black on the door and all the information of the evening hits you at once. JMK. Joel Miller Kink. Joel Miller, insanely handsome millionaire, owns a sex club.

Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters and other work.

[coolcoolcoolbutwtf]

Fentons family's guide Section on being an evil assistant to a supervillain

_________________________________________

Fentons family's guide to being an evil assistant to a supervillain

Guide by Jazmin Fenton in case of employment with a supervillain.

Being an evil assistant or henchmen is surprisingly a very stable source of an income stream all things considered.

You just need to find a boss. A as in singular it's very important, who is pathetic and or stupid enough to constantly have their large scale plan failing even without the hero's Involvement.

And while their large scale plan for taking over the world with a weapon of mass destruction could be feasible if only they didn't think to actually use it. Using it to threaten the world leaders for sway is the correct way. It is the most unused method the one being used most is the method of actually using the weapon of mass destruction for mass destruction.

You as the evil assistant then have the responsibility to make sure that the villain doesn't/ can't use said device to destroy the world. The heroes can help. Later then take the blame for the failure absolving you of involvement.

Being a good evil assistant is babysitting the evil boss.

_________________________________pg 9___

"Oh man never thought I'd actually need to use the 'Fenton guide' Jazz made me." Danny mumbled quietly and heaved a sigh of relief when he had found it among his hastily packed together bag.

Jazz had been the one making both of their emergency bags when she had told him about the guide. He hadn't appreciated it then now he truly did now with everything going on.

God he missed Jazz so much. He wanted to see her so badly he wanted to hold her hand like when they were kids. He really wanted her hand to squeeze his back in reassurance that everything was going to be fine.

Danny tried holding back his sobs at the thought. He couldn't stop the mist in his eyes or his hands shaking holding the little booklet.

But he wanted her safe and far away from everything even more. He wanted his friends to be safe with his sister. It didn't matter if he had to be far away working getting those crystals every way he could think of. His friends and sister needed money to keep them safe, hidden and taken care of. They needed that money and crystals and if Danny had to choose between his morals and fright he would always choose his true family. Morals be damned.

• • •

He hadn't expected the costume to be so good in quality. That had surprised him the most the second being how easy it would be getting a job with villains. Turns out working as an "meta" henchmen who knew everything from fighting to logistics and machinery was a rarity in this dimension. Who would have guessed it with all the metas and enhanced humans going about? And omg they even have aliens in this dimension!

Getting the money for the crystals had been going surprisingly smoothly. Everything had been going so smoothly that of course it had to be ruined! The villain Danny was working for had gotten noticed and promptly got beat. Which meant he didn't have an employer anymore at least until a breakout was orchestrated. So no more job until then.

And Danny had finally managed his way to the middle hierarchy in that organization! Now he would need to go looking for evil henchmen positions again! It wasn't even a good season to go looking for openings in other organizations.

Damn it that bat furry in Gotham and his flock of birds. Don't they get how hard it is for a henchmen to find descant work!?

Maybe he should go with the duo villain and assistant type next time.

Thank you so much for reading I hope it was enjoyed!

Danny in the lair after having saved his villain boss from Batman after said villain had their scheme blown up in their face. Danny knew the plan would fail miserably but at this point he didn't care. He stopped trying to help when it came to schemes ages ago.

+Some art

Idk if I've posted this idea before but I've had this thing bouncing around in my head for a while.

[flawseer]

On the False Dragonets of Destiny

Recycled art... Forgive me, I can't physically draw more than I currently am.

Just a little while ago I was looking at some replies to my recent work, and I noticed a nice comment from someone who expressed they enjoyed my comics featuring the false dragonets of destiny, but couldn't really get into them in the books. I am thankful for that comment, but even more thankful for the opportunity to ramble at length about something I kind of wanted to talk about, but couldn't find a plausible excuse for. Until now.

All of this is just my reading of the material, of course. You don't need to agree with me on this.

Content Warning: Some discussion of abuse, trauma, violence. I don't know if it's severe enough to warrant a warning, but better be safe.

General discussion

The false dragonets of destiny, the alternates, or whatever one wants to call them. They enter the story proper in book 4, after having made a few minor cameo appearances before, and serve as a kind of hybrid antagonistic force and pseudo-allies for Starflight during his stay on the Nightwing Isle. During that time, they are very abrasive, stand-offish, uncooperative, and a bit annoying, and I guess that doesn't make them come off very well. But like, in spite of that or maybe partially because of it, I am really fond of these guys, and I'd like to take some time talking them up to you.

One can examine how these guys act and conclude that they are a bunch of dysfunctional screw-ups. And they absolutely are that, don't get me wrong. But one should keep in mind: the majority of the time they are in the spotlight, they are in an extreme, tense, and frighteningly uncertain situation. It's easy to forget how stressful these situations are because the books as a whole really like to gloss over the more frightening kind of subjects on account of being written for young readers. You can't really go deep into themes of abuse, trauma, and depression in a story like that without tripping over some kind of censor on the way, but the implications are there, between the lines for you to find.

Understanding the group

Who are the false dragonets of destiny? They are posited as a mirror image of the true dragonets of destiny, who have all been extensively schooled in matters of education and martial prowess. The first thing we see THIS group do on page is brawl, so one may think they must be trained and capable fighters. Viper and Flame constantly throw around death threats and aggressive quips, so one may think they are hyper-violent and dangerous. They are neither. Nautilus admits the Talons haven't bothered training them at all, they haven't seen real combat, they've likely been deliberately kept away from the war as a whole. Flame doesn't even know how to use his fire breath correctly. Starflight, who is by far the least physically adept of the arc 1 protagonists, is able to outpace them even as four of them team up against him.

They are neither killers nor a crack team of badasses, rather they are a bunch of play-fighting, posing delinquents who talk a big game with little in terms of actual skill to back it up. Realizing this is key to understanding just how out of their depth and ill-equipped they are to handle anything that gets thrown at them on the Nightwing homeland, especially past the negotiations at the Skywing outpost.

Abduction and imprisonment

When Starflight first finds them, they have been on the Nightwing Isle for a good while, and they are suitably bristly because of it.

Look at this situation from their perspective. These guys have known nothing other than their semi-peaceful life in the Talon camp. Then the leader of that camp, Nautilus--a figure they all know and trust, essentially sells them to a frightening stranger, who looms over them and is so physically large he could crush each of them easily. This stranger pulls them away from their home without even giving them a chance to say goodbye to their relatives (I'm convinced Avalanche would not have let Morrowseer take her son if there was a chance to intervene, so Flame must have already been gone when she found out).

A contingent of Nightwing awaits them, blindfolds them so they don't know where the entrance to the Nightwing home is. They pass through a kind of eldritch tunnel that pulls at their souls. When they are finally allowed to see again, they find themselves trapped on an island where there is no sunlight and every breath hurts as the air is thick with ash.

The Nightwings won't let them leave, in fact they don't know if they will ever be able to leave again. Nobody tells them what's going on, what they are meant to do, or what the plan is. They are left confined in some room with nothing to do, and they (sans Fatespeaker) can't go outside without being arrested. Food is brought very infrequently, and usually inedible, so they haven't eaten since they were forced to leave home. They don't know where they are, nor where their parents are, nor if their parents know where THEY are. They are completely cut off from anywhere, isolated, trapped in this little slice of hell with no means to escape and little hope to acquire any soon.

I think if I was in a situation like that, I would be pretty cranky too. More than that, I would be scared out of my wits, and I believe that they are as well. If you look at their actions through a lens of them being frightened, their irritating quirks suddenly become very relatable. Viper is coping by throwing out threats and making herself seem bigger and scarier than the thing trapping her. Flame makes offensive jokes about killing Fatespeaker because making light of the situation helps him keep his wits together. Ochre is hard to read, but I think he's just tuning everything out. Squid is convinced that his father--who is the most important and smart dragon in all of Pyrrhia--has made the correct choice and knows what's best for all of them. And Fatespeaker is in complete denial, choosing to trust an inaccurate vision of the future while ignoring all the red flags that don't fit into it.

I think it's interesting that you can read this as all of them having a different strategy to cope with the uncertain and frightening situation they're trapped in. That's part of why I like them; they're very flawed and make interesting decisions.

Trauma and Empathy

You can look at someone like Squid and see his surface traits: He is annoying, he whines and complains constantly, he brags about who his father is, and he seems completely incapable of doing anything useful. If this guy was in any other story, I would probably dislike him. But Squid has the benefit of being a whiny dweeb in a situation where it is very appropriate to whine and be scared. He has a scene where he makes a somewhat goofy speech at Morrowseer where he calls him stupid and wants to go home, and is subsequently exiled. It's a bit silly in execution, but for me it did succeed in making me feel bad for Squid as he desperately and pathetically pleads for Morrowseer not to send him to his death.

But then you can read beyond the lines a little and view the scene in the full context that isn't really dwelt on. Here, you've got Squid, who is inept even among his peers, sheltered and doted on by his father, whom he has never been away from for any real amount of time until now. This guy, who probably can't even feed himself (otherwise he might have been able to catch fish in the waters around the island), keeps telling himself that his father has a plan, that all of this, even the questionable stuff, is happening for a reason. He hasn't eaten in weeks and he's been the punching bag for everyone else's frustrations (because Fatespeaker is not around enough, hanging out with Starflight). Now he has been chased halfway across the world, forced to cross the ocean while tired and starving, to be told he has to talk to a bunch of violent strangers who hate his kind and want to kill him. He tries to hide but is grabbed by the throat and held in the air by a soldier twice his size. This is likely the first time his life has ever been threatened that directly and with genuine intent.

The strange new Nightwing who was sent with them somehow manages to deescalate the situation enough to save him, but then, without warning, more dragons burst into the room. Suddenly everything is on fire, including the soldiers who just a moment ago threatened him. He is close enough to them to watch their forms twist and writhe in agony as they slowly burn to death.

As he is made to watch this horrifying spectacle, all the feelings he repressed by reminding himself of the faith he has in his father come flooding back in at once. It becomes too much for him to bear, and he breaks. He starts crying and verbally lashes out at their abuser for the horrid conditions they have been placed in and demands--half asserting and half pleading--to be allowed to go home. This isn't really whining anymore, this is a full-scale mental breakdown, rendered to be simple and digestible to a young audience. Imagine how harrowing this scene could have been if it wasn't filtered through a child-friendly narrative.

Closing thoughts

There is a scene some time after that I found kind of poignant. At one point, Starflight looks out and he sees Flame just standing out there, silently staring into the distance. There's maybe one line dedicated to it, and when you read the book normally, you don't really dwell on it since it's so nondescript. But this scene happens shortly after the visit to the remote outpost. The soldiers that burned to death in there were all Skywings. Skywings like himself, and like his mother, who also was a soldier before she joined the Talons. Whenever I picture him standing there, I imagine he is reliving that moment, hearing the dying screams of his kinsmen. I think he will be hearing them forever.

So in conclusion: The reason why I like the alternate dragonets so much is because of the enormous, untapped potential they possess as characters, and how deep some of them run if you take some time to look at them. I feel like all of them have a story to tell, and it's a bit of a shame that Sutherland likely won't come around to telling any of them. If I had infinite time, money, and energy, I would love to make many more comics about them, as they are an interesting lot.

Especially Flame's story I feel is such a heartbreaking tragedy, and thinking about the way it ended saddens me. He's one of my six all-time favorite characters in the series, I wish he could have gone out in a happier, healthier way.

[greentrickster]

It occurs to me that, in light of his discovery about Shang Qinghua's true nature and relationship to the world, and of his own place within all this, Mobei-jun's probably going to become just a touch insufferable, though not in the way he usually is. Like, the biggest hurdle to the Moshang relationship from his perspective is that he's never, ever been able to get a solid read on this weird servant of his. Mobei-jun can't figure it out for himself, Shang Qinghua refuses to explain himself or ask for anything other than his own life even as he makes himself indispensable and pulls off these amazing acts of service, but he also seems terrified of Mobei-jun a lot of the time, and, frankly, yeah, I'd be confused and irritable as heck after a couple decades of mixed signals like this too. And that's on top of having some very well-founded and (given his life experiences) extremely understandable trust issues.

(Because, while Airplane is genuinely my favorite, I can also acknowledge that, from Mobei-jun's perspective, he probably looks shadier than Reigan from MP100.)

Except now? Now. Now Mobei-jun knows why Shang Qinghua's always been so squirrely and secretive, why he's always been devoted to Mobei-jun even while terrified of him, why he never responds to Mobei-jun's overt courting tactics in spite of seeming to find him attractive... he's got all the pieces. Including that absolute, most important of pieces:

Shang Qinghua loves him best. Shang Qinghua has always loved him best.

I think that knowledge makes him melt a bit. Not because of who or what Shang Qinghua is, but because Mobei-jun finally, finally understands this strange little man, and that means it's finally safe to trust him, fully and completely.

Of course this makes our favorite popsicle melt a bit. And, when popsicles melt a bit, it's only natural that they get a little sticky.

Which is to say Airplane is never going to have to worry about touch-starvation again, because he's going to be getting all the hugs and cuddles and pats (and affectionate (and very careful) slaps and pinches, because Mobei-jun's doing his best to respect boundaries but he's still a demon and this is part of their culture, society, and nature (and also because Airplane has come to the conclusion that if Mobei-jun gets to have a go at his cheeks every now and then, then Airplane gets to smack the butt in retaliation, and Mobei-jun has yet to disabuse him of this notion)). Also just picked up and carried around sometimes, because Qinghua's legs are so short and he works so hard, it is unfitting to make him work extra to keep up with Mobei-jun (which is definitely the only reason he's doing this, not because he just wants to carry Qinghua around like his favorite cuddle toy just because he can, really).

There's at least one Peak Lord meeting that Shang Qinghua arrives to via Mobei-jun carrying him there bridal style. This is also the meeting where everyone has to deal with the fact that Shang shidi has a demon king hugging his waist while laying his head in Shang shidi's lap, because Qinghua needed to attend this meeting, but Mobei-jun wasn't ready to stop cuddling yet.

And when everyone makes extremely reasonable noises about maybe not having a demon king in attendance while they went over private sect affairs and maybe Mobei-jun should leave, the giant brat just looks at them all with one eye and says, "No, I'm his favorite." And then closes his eye again and proceeds to ignore them all in favour of sticking his face in Qinghua's stomach and having a nap.

Meaning now they all have to live with the knowledge that Shang shidi is the most important being in the world and what his taste in men is like.

Shang shidi going, "I mean... he's right, and also I've been telling him stuff about these meetings for years and also, like... you can't really stop me." does not help.

[angelicyoongie]

lovesick (XVl / finale)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 13.3k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, explicit sexual content unprotected sex, breast play, fingering (vaginal), VERY mild d/s, consensual punishment (spanking), consensual voyeurism (jimin watches like the freak that he is). — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late. — a/n: please read the author's note at the end of the chapter!

Previous - Masterlist

It takes six months before you finally hear the words you've been waiting so desperately for.

"Sunshine, we've been talking and we think it's time we relocate to somewhere else." 

Your fork clatters to the table, clicking loudly against your plate. You wonder for a moment if you're dreaming – if your brain has started to hallucinate scenarios to make up for how suffocated you feel in this cabin – but Jimin's hand squeezing your knee is too real to be made up.

"What?" You breathe, shocked. 

"We can't stay here for much longer, baby, the station uses the cabin sporadically throughout the summer months," Jimin says. He takes a bite of his food, shrugging as he admits, "Our stay here so far hasn't exactly been legal. I'd rather not get us all in trouble for using the place unauthorized." 

"We know how cooped up you've been here," Seokjin adds, giving you a sad smile, "We never planned on staying here this long but we had to figure some things out first. We wanted to find a place that was perfect for us, somewhere that could be our home, so we couldn't rush it." 

You drop your hands into your lap, clutching them together tightly. You hope it's enough to hide how badly they're trembling, blood pumping loudly in your ears as it dawns on you that this is your ticket out. You might not be able to escape, not in the way you attempted so many months ago at least, but it's a start. The boys wouldn't make this decision if they didn't trust you, if they didn't feel confident enough in your connection that you won't try to run away from them. 

And you won't. 

You've come to terms with your situation; that your soulmates need you to get better. 

Though you haven't had much of a choice, you have decided that you're going to stay until the bond settles, just until they stop being so obsessive and paranoid. Maybe then you'll be able to go back to the life you had before and do everything right with them this time.

The you from six months ago would've been disgusted that you're even entertaining the thought of giving them a second chance, but you know better now. Your soulmates are sick. Perhaps with time, and a lot of therapy, they will be able to understand what they've been putting you through and try to make amends for it. 

You know that the healthy thing to do would be to run away without a backward glance but you can't. Try as you might to hate it, your soul – your heart – has long since accepted them. You can't quite call it love, not with the circumstances of how those feelings came to be, but you do like them. 

"It's some hours away but it's a quaint home, just big enough for the eight of us. It's on the outskirts of– the city! So it has a big garden and a lot of picturesque trails around it," Seokjin's voice cracks as he almost lets the town name slip, Namjoon elbowing his side with a low hiss. 

"It's perfect for taking Yeontan on walks!" Taehyung pipes up with a grin, sneaking the whining pup at his feet a piece of sausage. 

You're not surprised that the boys aren't willing to share any information about the new house and place you'll be moving to. They may not be as paranoid as they were at the beginning but that still doesn't mean that they have full faith in you just yet. But you expected that. You just need to play your cards right – stay at the house until they let their guards down and then, maybe, you'll be able to slowly lay down the foundation you need to convince them to let you go back to your home. 

"That sounds lovely," You smile, glossing over Seokjin's blunder. 

Needing to act as normal as possible, you once again pick up your fork and try to resume eating your dinner. The piece of chicken you shove into your mouth doesn't taste like anything, your nerves making everything bland and tough to chew. But you push through, moving around some rice on your plate as you nonchalantly say, "But what about your jobs? Jungkook's degree? I would hate for our move to affect you like that." 

"You don't have to worry about that," Jimin squeezes your knee, "I'll be commuting with Seokjin hyung and Hoseok hyung. Namjoon hyung has been hired at the library in the city we're moving to and Jungkookie is going to finish the rest of the semester online." 

"Taehyungie and I can work a lot from home, so we're planning on doing that. We might have to go into the office now and then, but that's no problem," Yoongi supplies. He gives you a fond look as he says, "We're hoping it'll make the transition into the new house easier for you since some of us will always be home to spend time with you." 

And it'll be easier to make sure you don't do anything stupid. 

"Ah, I see, that's nice," You say. "Thank you for thinking of me." 

"Always," Namjoon grins sweetly, his dimples indenting his cheeks. 

It might not be a lot to go off, but the fact that the majority of them are planning on commuting every day must mean that the new city can be too far away from your old one, even if you don't know exactly where it is yet. An hour, maybe a little more, if they're being extra careful. You can work with that.

Hoseok catches your gaze from across the table, his expression earnest as he says, "We want you to be able to have a normal life, Y/n. With us."

"I know our methods have been a bit..." He trails off with a small grimace, no doubt thinking about what transpired in his shop and everything that followed. You can't exactly say that Hoseok looks remorseful, none of them do, but there is a touch of shame in their faces that hasn't been present before.

"I won't apologize for what happened because that's what led us here and gave us the chance to grow closer like we were supposed to all along. But, we want to do better by you and we're going to do our best to make sure that happens." 

The others voice out their agreement, nodding along to Hoseok's words. 

You shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth to dampen your sigh.

You're not even sure why you feel disappointed by the fact that the boys refuse to apologize for what they did to you, you already know they don't feel bad about it. Still, perhaps the part of you that likes them was hoping for it nonetheless. Maybe it would be easier for you to accept everything that has happened if they did – if they admitted that they had hurt you and wanted to repent for it. But, you're probably going to have to wait a very long time before that day ever comes – if, it ever comes.

Swallowing your food, you try to shake off any useless thoughts. You need to focus on the future, on the fact that you'll be regaining a sliver of freedom soon. 

You move one hand under the table, covering Jimin's hand with yours. 

Squeezing it, you hope you don't sound too eager as you ask, "So, when do we leave?" 

Two weeks. 

You figured the move would happen soon, but not that quickly. The boys must have planned this for a long time, far longer than they let on, because there's no way they could have closed on a house this fast. 

The day after they told you of their plans, Namjoon had already begun moving some of his books out of the cabin. Truthfully there wasn't much any of you needed to pack up, only a few random personal belongings and decor elements that had been placed here and there to make your stay a little more cozy. In the end, it all fit into three boxes placed neatly by the door.

A few days before the move, the boys spent an hour rearranging the furniture back to how it was when you had first arrived, erasing any trace of the last six months with it. It was as if no one had ever been there in the first place, as if it hadn't served as a prison for half a year.

When you first arrived you wondered if you would ever be able to leave, and now, you're about to do just that. 

"Y/n."

You turn around as Yoongi calls your name, watching as he steps closer with a piece of fabric between his hands. Yoongi unfolds it under your gaze, revealing it to be a black opaque scarf. 

"We're all ready to go, love, but you have to cover your eyes with this," Yoongi frowns apologetically. "We want to trust you, but for everyone's peace of mind, this is the best thing to do. It's just until we arrive at the house." 

You eye the scarf for a moment, flashing Yoongi a weak smile as you say, "It's okay, I understand." 

He steps closer, bringing the fabric up to your face. The material is soft, and cool, as it covers your eyes, blocking out any semblance of light. The scarf is wide enough that it covers everything from your eyebrows to the tip of your nose, removing any chance you might have had to tilt your head to peek at the outside world. You should've figured they would've been prepared for that possibility. 

Yoongi's hands are careful as he ties the scarf behind your head, making sure he doesn't tangle or tug at your hair in the process. You can feel his breath against your cheek as he binds it securely, double knotting it to make sure it's not going to come undone. 

"All done," Yoongi announces softly, curving one hand along the back of your neck. He tilts your head up slightly, just enough for his lips to brush against yours. Your eyes fall shut despite the darkness already hindering your vision, leaning forward to catch his lips in a proper kiss. 

Yoongi indulges you for a few seconds before he steps back, removing his hands. 

"Come back," You pout, your fingers searching blindly for his coat. 

"We're going to be late, love, the others are waiting for us," You can hear the smile in Yoongi's voice as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

As if summoned, the cabin door flies open, Jungkook's voice echoing slightly in the near-empty cabin as he asks, "Are you coming, hyung? Y/n? We're all ready to go." 

You let Yoongi lead you forward, your steps a little unsteady despite his promise that nothing is in your way. Jungkook grabs your other hand as you near the door, chattering excitedly about how he brought some of your favourite snacks for the trip as they both help you down the stairs. 

Your heart jumps, picking up speed, as you hear the steady thrum of a car motor running. You can't believe this is actually real – you're truly leaving this place for good. You know that Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon have already left, the boys eager to get everything in order at the new house before your arrival. 

You're maneuvered into the car without too much trouble, Hoseok clicking your seatbelt into place as you're placed between him and Jungkook in the backseat. You find a bag of sweets dumped into your lap the moment you're situated, Hoseok chiding Jungkook lightly for startling you. Yoongi has taken his place in the front seat, groaning loudly as Seokjin declares that as the driver; he's going to be responsible for the music and that no one is allowed to complain about his choices. 

You lean back in your seat, getting yourself comfortable between Jungkook and Hoseok. Their bodies being flushed with yours in the cramped car feels grounding, the feel of their strong thighs pressed against yours being something you can easily divert your focus to with your sight momentarily blocked. Seokjin and Yoongi bicker as the car begins to pull away from the cabin, the gravel road crunching loudly under the wheels. 

Finally.

Knowing there's no chance of you catching a glimpse of the surroundings on the way there, not with the blindfold so securely wrapped around your head, you slump to the side, resting your head on Hoseok's shoulder. Slender fingers wrap around yours as Hoseok takes your hand into his lap, his thumb moving soothingly across your knuckles. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to zone out and daydream about all of the possibilities ahead of you. It's not like the boys are going to magically become more trusting the moment you arrive at the new house but the move will open new doors for you – give you more opportunities to show them that they can lower their guards and trust the bond without any consequences.

They don't have to worry about you running away anymore.

The boys seem content to let you rest on the drive over to the new house, filling the silence between songs with jokes and lighthearted bickering. You easily accept the pieces of candy that are pressed to your lips at steady intervals, smiling at Jungkook and Hoseok's pleased words whenever you accept their offers. Before you know it, the car begins to slow down and you hear Seokjin exclaim, "Ah, there it is!" 

The door on Hoseok's side is opened the moment the car stops, Taehyung whining loudly about how long it took you to get there. You follow their lead out of the car and inside the new house, placing one foot blindly in front of the other. 

"We'll show you the outside later, babe," Taehyung promises as he steers you forward with both hands securely placed on your shoulders, "We just want to see your reaction to the inside of the house first." 

Namjoon helps you slip off your shoes as you step into the house, the smell of a freshly cleaned floor hitting your nose. Taehyung urges you to walk forward a bit more before he stops you, his hands moving from your shoulders to untie the knots behind your head. 

"We hope you'll like your new home, darling," Namjoon says, revealing a hint of nervousness in his tone. 

You're practically bursting with anticipation as Taehyung undos the first knot, the wooden floorboards under your feet giving you the impression that this is likely an older, more traditional, house. You blink as the blindfold finally falls away, the sudden burst of light stinging your eyes.

Your lips part in surprise as your vision adjusts, taking in the space in front of you. 

You're standing in the middle of a large entryway, the area opening up into a big combined living and dining room. One wall is practically filled with windows, letting lots of beautiful sunlight stream in and warm up the space. You notice a massive couch on one side of the room, the size of it definitely big enough to comfortably seat eight people at once. It's facing the built-in fireplace in the wall in front of it, a big TV hung above it. The dining room portion has a lovely intricate hardwood table with eight matching chairs pushed up against it.

You notice that one of the smaller walls has a bookcase spanning the entire width of it, already half-full with what you can only assume to be Namjoon's books. You do recognize little trinkets here and there that the boys kept at the cabin, and even a few larger plants you eyed when you visited Seokjin's shop way back then. 

"I love it," You gasp, stunned at how well they've designed the living room. 

It does feel cozy – home-y, even. 

"I told you the couch was the right choice!" Taehyung walks into the room, grinning smugly at Jimin. 

Jimin rolls his eyes, "It would've looked too out of place if it wasn't for the rug that I found to go along with it." 

"There they go again," Hoseok sighs behind your back. He nudges your shoulder gently, voice low as he says, "They're going to keep doing that for a while. Why don't we go look at the kitchen in the meantime?" 

"Please," You nod, excited to see if the rest of the house looks as good as the living room. You follow Hoseok's lead back to the entry and through the open door on the left, the rest of the boys trailing behind you. 

"The kitchen needed an upgrade so we let Seokjin hyung and Yoongi hyung design it since they do the majority of the cooking," Hoseok scratches his neck, a little sheepish as he pauses next to the large island in the room.

The kitchen is sleek and modern, definitely newer than what you've seen of the house so far, but not out of place by any means. It just feels inviting and bright, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe cooking won't be so bad if you can do it in a kitchen like this. 

"It looks great," You comment, walking around the island to marvel at some of the fancier appliances that are out on display on the counters.

"Thank you, angel," Seokjin preens. He shares a pleased look with Yoongi over your compliment, the younger man's cheeks flushed from the praise.

You catch sight of the pretty, colourful garden outside as you walk past the sink. Looking outside the window above it, you find that spring is already in full bloom here. While you had noticed a few more wildflowers around the cabin a few days before you left, it's nothing compared to the abundance of flowers and shrubs that are blossoming here. 

The view makes you smile. You know your stay here isn't permanent but it does make your heart flutter to know that you're going to be spending your foreseeable future here – in a lovely house with a pretty garden – and not an old cabin in a dark forest. The boys did well by picking this house, it's the type of place you actually would like to live in. 

"Y/n, let's go have a look at the downstairs bathroom and study before we move upstairs," Seokjin says, gesturing to the hallway.

You can still hear Taehyung and Jimin's heated discussion as you cross over the entry to look at the rooms on the opposite side of the house, the french double doors leading to the study winning you over immediately. Both rooms look like they've gotten a recent refresh, the new paint and tiles the boys picked out for the bathroom nicely complementing the old features of the home. The house is the perfect blend of rustic and modern.

Jungkook grabs your hand as you turn to follow Yoongi up to the second floor, excitedly dragging you up the stairs ahead of the others. He quickly explains that the second-floor houses all three bedrooms and an additional two ensuite bathrooms. Jungkook eagerly tells you about the choices they made for the bedrooms, from the color of the wall to the bedside tables to even the small light near the window that projects stars on the ceiling when it's dark out. 

Yoongi takes special care to point out the wainscoting he put up in the second bedroom and he flashes you a gummy smile as you praise him for the work he's done. You drag your fingers over the soft duvet on the seemingly king-sized bed in the room, a lightbulb going off in your head as you remember that there are only three bedrooms. 

"Wait, if there's only three beds, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be like?" 

Hoseok speaks up from where he's leaning against the wall, "We're all going to share, sunshine. Some of us will have to stay overnight in the city due to our jobs every so often so that should clear up some space, but aside from that, we'll be sharing beds." 

The surprise must be evident on your face, because Namjoon grimaces and quickly supplies, "We know we've been neglecting each other as soulmates. We don't feel the bond in the same way as we do with you but we are connected regardless. This... well, this is our attempt at strengthening that connection. We're trying to accept that the bond goes eight ways – not just one." 

You find yourself speechless at what you've just heard. You knew that the bond was slowly mellowing them out but you never thought that it would start affecting the connection between them as well. If that part of the soulbond starts to heal then... You might be able to get back to your normal life sooner than you first dared to hope for. 

"We still have one more room to look at, love," Yoongi touches your hip, nudging you towards the door. None of the boys seem to expect a response to what Namjoon just told you, understanding that the news has left you a little dumbfounded. 

Taehyung and Jimin must have resolved their bickering during your tour, the two of them waiting by the door to the final room, giggling at something on Taehyung's phone. The hot and cold behaviour the boys have towards each other does give you a whiplash most days but you suppose that too might become less frequent as the bond between them finally gets the nurture it's been needing for years. 

"We didn't want to complete this house without you," Yoongi explains as he pushes open the door. The last bedroom is noticeably less finished than the rest of the house, the walls a tired white and the furniture non-existent aside from another king bed. "This is your home just as much as it's ours, so we'd really like it if you want to help us design the final bedroom." 

"I'd love that," You grin, eager for a project you can occupy some of your time with. 

"We'll be collecting your things soon, babe," Jimin adds, "Your lease is up on your apartment and you don't need it anymore, so we'll take turns packing up everything and bringing it over next weekend." 

You stare at the blank wall, heart sinking in your chest. Somehow, you had forgotten about your lease. A burst of anger you haven't felt in a while bubbles up under your skin, the urge to scream and curse at them taking over your body. But what good will it do? 

In their eyes, this is your new home. The need for your apartment is now obsolete. 

You breathe slowly through your nose, quelling the flames before they can burn too hot. You may lose your apartment, your home, for now, but that doesn't mean you can't make a new home somewhere else later. You'll be fine. You're sure Heejun and Jaemin will gladly let you crash on their couch until you figure something out. For now, you just have to accept the situation for what it is and play along. 

You have missed your things, so it'll be nice to be able to make this house your own for however long you'll need it. 

"Great, thank you," You grit. 

For once, Jimin seems oblivious to your snark. He throws an arm around your shoulders, bumping his forehead against yours as he grins and says, "C'mon babe, let's go have a look at the garden. I think you're going to love it." 

You throw a glance towards the window, plastering on a convincing smile as you say, "I'd like nothing more, Jiminie." 

Time passes quickly in the new house once you begin to settle in.

The unfinished bedroom gets decorated to your liking, the walls repainted and the newly hung shelves display most of the little knick-knacks from your old apartment. As spring begins to bleed into summer, you take on the task of getting the already stunning garden ready for the warmer weather. You often find yourself outside with Jungkook or Yoongi, weeding around the plants or mowing the grass to make sure Yeontan has a nice, safe space to run around in. The pup loves to dig up anything that has been freshly planted, so someone must always watch him like a hawk whenever the soil has been recently turned. You've already lost a bed of beautiful purple hyacinths once and you don't want to make that mistake again (even if the picture of Yeontan napping in a pile of flowers was a little cute). 

Truly, it's all too easy to fall into a new routine and it doesn't take long before you know the boys' schedules by heart. Jimin, Seokjin, and Hoseok are away the most since the nature of their jobs doesn't allow them to work from home. Seokjin and Hoseok have hired more helpers to be able to spend the full weekend at home, in addition to a day or two here and there when they work on the administrative side of their businesses. Jimin, however, doesn't have that option. He often spends three days at the time in the city, his shifts too long and tiring for him to be able to make the drive back and forth every day.

You miss him whenever he's away and it's becoming quite obvious that the others do too. Jungkook and Taehyung in particular often mope around the house when Jimin is working his shifts, lamenting about how unfair it is that he has to stay there for days all by himself. Even if you're a little surprised at how quickly the bond has grown between the boys, you do admittedly find it awfully sweet to see them puppy-piling whoever has been gone for a day or more whenever they return to the house. Though, you always grow a little wary when Jimin comes back, as the days apart usually leave him a little more hungry for mischief than usual. 

You can already tell that Jimin is up to something the moment he steps into the house, his eyes sparkling with interest despite his tired complexion. Your suspicion wavers slightly during dinner with Hoseok and Seokjin, as Jimin keeps yawning between bites and resting his head heavily against your arm the moment he's done eating. He stays glued to your back as you all shuffle into the living room after, hugging you tight to his chest as he settles down on the couch. He only hums in agreement when Seokjin proposes a few rounds of Mario Kart, letting out a tired sigh as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to watch them. 

Jimin has one hand tucked under your sweatshirt, petting over the bare skin on your waist while he nuzzles his face against your neck. The gestures are innocent and sleepy, and you find your guard lowering with every round Hoseok and Seokjin play.

You snort as Hoseok gets hit with a blue shell just as he's about to cross the finish line, Seokjin letting out a whop as he races past him. 

"You're such a cheater!" Hoseok huffs, glaring at the teasing dance Seokjin does to celebrate his fifth win in a row. 

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Hobi, but you're just not as good as I am," Seokjin grins. "I never lose once I set my mind to something, you know that." 

"You're too full of yourself, hyung," Hoseok shakes his head as he gives Seokjin's shoulder a light shove. 

"And you're a sore loser," Seokjin quips, laughing as he gets pushed to the ground. He swats Hoseok's hands away as he tries to wrestle with him, his squeaky laughter filling the room as Hoseok grumbles out his protests. 

The hand on your waist suddenly stills just as Seokjin's laughter lulls. The mischief is back in Jimin's voice as it brushes against your neck, his tone taunting as he says, "Maybe it's time you brought Seokjin hyung down a peg, huh, Hoseok hyung?" 

You hold your breath as Hoseok and Seokjin both freeze, their heads slowly turning to face the couch. 

"What are you talking about, Jimin?" Seokjin, never one to entertain Jimin's antics for too long, purses his lips as he stares him down. 

"You do win almost every game we play, hyung, that's true, but you've also played more video games than all of us combined. Maybe if you and Hoseok hyung played a game that was more.. level to your experiences, it would be more fair?" Jimin proposes.

"What kind of game are we talking about here?" Hoseok asks. You can tell his curiosity is winning out over his usual disdain for Jimin's 'games', his eyes tracking Jimin as the younger brings one hand up to your jaw, turning your head to the side. 

You let out a stuttered breath as you meet Jimin's hungry gaze, his glossy lips twisting into a smirk as he looks you dead in the eyes and says, "How about a competition to see who can fuck our baby better?" 

You hear Seokjin sputter on the floor as Hoseok lets out a pained groan.

"Hyung! You almost kneed me in the balls! Are you seriously still trying to cheat?" 

"I'm not– I'm surprised!" Seokjin retorts with a squeak, "I didn't think that little devil would joke around with something like that!"

"I'm not joking though," Jimin hums as he strokes his thumb along your jaw. "Wouldn't it be interesting to see who would win – who Y/n would crown the best?" 

Jimin's gaze leaves yours for a second as it glides down to his hyungs on the floor, the corner of his mouth quirking into a mocking smile as he says, "Or maybe you're just too scared to find out who she prefers? I guess it might be better for you to give up now Hobi hyung, if you're not confident that you can beat Seokjin hyung."

Your lips part in surprise as you realize that Jimin is serious about his proposal, that he's trying to goad them into competing. It's a low blow and an obvious one too, but you don't think Hoseok and Seokjin care – not when Jimin is openly questioning their ability to pleasure you. 

Seeing Hoseok's brows furrow in thought, Jimin returns his attention to you. He leans forward to slot your mouths together, taking advantage of the access you've given him as he pulls you into a deep kiss. His tongue dips past your lips right away, curling around your own as he holds you still. You can't help the moan that tumbles out as Jimin ravages your mouth, the sounds wet and filthy as he kisses you passionately.

You slump into Jimin's arms, letting him take full control of the kiss. It's only when you start to turn lightheaded that you turn your head away, gasping for air as Jimin moves his mouth to your jaw. You glance with hooded eyes down at the floor as you attempt to catch your breath, your stomach doing a flip as you notice how affected Hoseok and Seokjin seem. They're both turned on by the little show Jimin put on for them, their bulges prominent and straining against their pants.

The tension in the room is palpable. Seokjin and Hoseok look like they're teetering on the edge between hesitance and hunger – both wanting what Jimin is proposing, but still holding themselves back from accepting it. 

You know Jimin can sense it by the way he makes you moan as he sucks your skin between his teeth, leaving his mark on your delicate throat. He lets out a low chuckle at the sharp intake of breath he hears from Seokjin. 

"If the two of you aren't going to pleasure Y/n then you better say your goodnights now. I'll make sure to fuck her twice as good as either of you ever could. Hmm.. Do you think she'll even remember your names once I'm done?" He purrs against your neck, kissing his way back up to your lips. 

"What do you think, baby? Should the two of us go upstairs, or do you want to see what the hyungs can do to you?" 

While you don't particularly agree with Jimin's methods, you can't deny the fact that you have been curious about when Seokjin and Hoseok were going to get intimate with you. You've had countless make-out sessions with each of them, heavy petting involved, but it's never gone beyond that. The boys have been giving you some space to settle in properly and get your bearings in the new house but you've reached the point where you're honestly a little desperate to be touched. You want them to fuck you. And for all of Jimin's schemes, even you can agree that this one sounds fun – hot, even. 

"I–" You shudder at the way Jimin presses his thumb against the bruise he left, eyes fluttering closed as you shyly admit, "I wouldn't m-mind, but I don't want to pressure them–" 

"Fuck," Hoseok curses, pushing himself to his feet, "Whatever, I'm in."

He sends a sharp look down at Seokjin, "You better not chicken out." 

"Yeah, hyung," Jimin chimes in, "Are you forfeiting your chance to finally fuck Y/n? Who knows when you'll be able to do it later when she has five other soulmates who already know her body so well."

Seokjin's jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it's going to break, his expression stormy as his eyes jump from person to person. His gaze lingers on you for longer, drinks in how affected you look after just a little kissing, how eager you seem to finally have your final two soulmates at your mercy. Even if he imagined your first time together to be a little more romantic and with a lot less Jimin, Seokjin can't deny that it's exciting to be able to prove himself as the best lover out of the group. 

"I'm not forfeiting anything," Seokjin huffs, standing up to join Hoseok. "I'll win this fair and square. Just don't be too sad when Angel picks me as the best lover, yeah?" 

Hoseok doesn't deign Seokjin with an answer, his sights already set on you. He brushes past his hyung with long strides, scooping you out of Jimin's arms and into his own. Hoseok rounds the coffee table to place you down on the other side, creating some space between you and the others, drawing a line he doesn't want anyone to cross.

You lean back against the table as he squats down in front of you, watching him with wide eyes as he reaches out to trace your bottom lip with one of his fingers. 

"Sunshine, don't you think you're being too much of a tease?"

Hoseok's gaze hardens as you inadvertently swipe your tongue along the line he just traced, your lip tingling from his touch. You feel the back of your neck flush as you realize what you just did, feeling bashful as you drop your gaze down to the floor.

The denial sits on the tip of your tongue, but you can't make yourself utter the words. Jimin is the one who was teasing them, firing them up, but you didn't exactly stop him either, did you? You're not ashamed to admit that you've been wanting Hoseok and Seokjin for a while now, and Jimin has practically served them up on a silver platter for you. 

"I–" You swallow thickly as you glance up and meet Hoseok's dark gaze, "I'm sorry?" 

Hoseok's mouth quirks, "I don't think you are, Y/n." 

Heat pools low in your stomach at Hoseok's astute observation, your thighs clenching helplessly under his sharp gaze.

"You deserve a little punishment for that, sunshine, don't you agree?" He hums.

The last time you were 'punished' was humiliating and not something you had agreed to at all. But this time, you're given the option to deny him, to walk away if you so wish. Despite everything they've done, you know they don't want to force you to do something you don't want to do. 

Truthfully, it does make you a little nervous to give Hoseok full control, but the soulbond will never settle until you show him that you're willing to put your full trust in him. 

"Yes," You weakly agree, embarrassed, knowing that he's looking for a verbal answer.

Hoseok gives a pleased smile at your compliance, his fiery exterior cracking momentarily until he reins himself back in. 

"Good. Get on your hands and knees, Y/n, you're allowed to use the table for support if you need it." 

The flush on the back of your neck spreads up to your face as you do as you're told. You turn around, crawling forward on your hands and knees until you're upper body is resting on the coffee table, the position naturally pushing your bottom out. You suck your lip between your teeth as you look ahead to find Jimin cupping himself above his pants, his smile wicked. Seokjin has made his way onto the same couch, his usually sweet face all stoic and difficult to read as he watches you and Hoseok. His hands are digging into his jeans, resisting the urge to touch himself and follow in Jimin's footsteps. 

You lower your head as Hoseok positions himself behind you, his hands landing on the swell of your ass. He places a hand on each cheek, letting out a low groan as he kneads the flesh. 

"I think ten should do it for your punishment this time, sunshine," Hoseok says, warming up the area by alternating between squeezing and rubbing his palms in circles over your cheeks. 

"Okay," You say, your belly swooping with nervous anticipation. 

"Hoseok," Seokjin hisses, a warning that gets shushed by Jimin.

For a moment, too wrapped up in Hoseok's dominating aura, you had forgotten that they would all feel your punishment. Just like they did back then in the cabin.

Before you can change your mind though, Jimin adds a decisive, "If our baby can handle it, then you can handle it too, hyung." 

Seokjin sighs, clearly not willing to put up the fight. "Fine." 

Both of Hoseok's hands fall away at that, leaving you exposed to receive your punishment. Hoseok's shirt rustles as he raises his hand and it's the only warning you get before his palm lands heavy on your ass, the impact knocking your breath out of your lungs. The next six spanks come in quick succession, each harder than the last. It's only a small mercy that your skin is still covered, the sting still intense despite the slight padding between you and Hoseok's palm. The noises you've been trying so hard to suppress tumble out at the seventh blow, a strangled gasp passing through your lips as he makes contact.

"Good girl," Hoseok praises, pausing his hits to allow you a moment to regain your breath. He tuts as you try to pull away from the fingers stroking over your smarting cheeks. "Don't make me add more, Y/n. Take the rest of your punishment properly and I promise I'll reward you." 

You take a few deep breaths, nodding to let Hoseok know that you'll behave. 

The final three slaps are so forceful you're sure you're going to bruise, your body jolting forward over the table as the smacks rain down on your ass. You cry out at the last one, the sound caught between a moan and a whimper as your heart pounds in your chest. 

"Fuck, that's hot," Jimin curses, palming himself harder. "Stings like a bitch, though," He whines under his breath.

Hoseok goes back to massaging your cheeks, soothing the hurt down to a more manageable level. His fingers drift up to the waistband of your sweats, hooking into the fabric before he pauses and asks, "Are you ready for your reward now, sunshine?" 

"Please," You whimper. 

You lift your knees to help Hoseok pull your sweats and underwear off all in one go, legs shaking as you barely manage to raise yourself enough from the table to remove your shirt after.

"Look at you," Hoseok murmurs, gliding his fingers all over your exposed skin. He follows the curve of your spine, only stopping briefly to thumb across your burning cheeks before he drags his hands down your calves. Your breath hitches as he suddenly spreads your legs.

You're mortified to discover that Hoseok's punishment has made you wet, dripping, without you noticing it, your cunt clenching helplessly under Hoseok's burning gaze. "So pretty." 

You gasp as Hoseok drags a finger through your slit, rubbing and spreading the wetness all over your cunt. He stills near your entrance, teasing you by barely dipping his finger in before he slides it back up to your clit. The slow rubs around your nub cause your thighs to shake, your senses overwhelmed as he repeats the motion over and over. 

"Hoseok, please," You whimper, pushing your hips against his finger as he teasingly tries to dip it in again, the movement swallowing him up to the second knuckle. 

"Are you being impatient, Y/n?"

Hoseok pushes his finger deeper, feeling along your walls before he pulls out to add another one, the slide in easy with how turned on you are. It feels good to finally have something filling you up, your cunt clenching desperately around his digits whenever he goes to pull out. 

"I'll let it slide just this once, sunshine. It seems your cunt is hungry for something more." 

The next thrust of his fingers is harder, slightly curled, and you let out a loud moan as he bumps directly against your sweet spot. Two fingers turn to three, stretching your walls out in preparation for Hoseok's cock. You keep mindlessly moving your hips back, meeting every thrust of his fingers in hopes that you'll take him deeper, feel fuller. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter and tighter, desperate for that final burst of pleasure to tip you over the scale.  

"Wait–" You gasp, throwing a look over your shoulder as Hoseok removes his fingers, your cunt empty and aching with nothing in it. 

"Don't worry," Hoseok presses himself flush with your back, his lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm giving you what you want. Your sweet little pussy just needs a hard cock to fuck it good, hmm?" 

He rolls his hips against yours, the hardness in his jeans unmistakable. You let out a low keen, breathless as you admit, "Yes, yes, I need it." 

"You'll get it, sunshine," Hoseok presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulders as he works his pants down his hips, his hard cock springing up against his stomach as he frees it from his boxers. Hoseok groans as he wraps one hand around himself, thumbing at his slit to spread the pre-come with a few quick pumps up and down his length. 

You both let out a moan as Hoseok rubs the head of his cock through your folds, making it even wetter. He positions himself at your opening, one hand gripping your waist as he pushes inside. Your walls open easily, practically sucking in half of his cock in one go. With how relaxed and eager you are, it only takes one firm thrust from Hoseok to bury the rest of him inside of you. 

"Oh gods," You groan, your fingers scrambling over the waxed tabletop for support as you desperately clamp down around his cock. 

"Are you ready, Y/n?" Hoseok places both hands on your waist, holding you still. He draws his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside your cunt, teasing. You feel him twitch as you clench around him, his usually composed voice wavering just the slightest as he says, "I'll give you everything you need, you just have to ask." 

Your pride is already long gone, vanished into thin air at the first touch of Hoseok's skilled fingers. You're not above begging, not if it'll finally sate the arousal licking up the inside of your stomach. 

"Please fuck me, Hobi," You whine. 

The grip on your waist tightens, Hoseok's fingers digging into your flesh as he finally gets to hear the words he's only been dreaming about for so long. His eyes are dark are he stares down at your body, as he memorizes the way your cunt clings to his cock, aching to be filled. Not even the loud groan coming from the couch is enough to tear his gaze away, not when he has such a perfect vision right in front of him. 

"As you wish, my sunshine."

You have no way of preparing yourself for the way Hoseok snaps his hips forward, slamming into your cunt so hard it makes your back arch. Your arms give out under the brutal pace he sets, your hands fruitlessly gliding across the table for something to hold on to as he punches his cock in with every deep thrust. It's only the tight grip Hoseok has on your hips that keeps you from sliding across the surface.

Your head feels like it's filled with static, no thoughts forming beyond more, please, more, as Hoseok moves in and out of you. The harsh noise of Hoseok's skin slapping against yours causes another gush of arousal to wet your cunt, making it sound absolutely sloppy as he delivers another hard thrust, your slick squelching around his cock. 

"Fuck– Fucking hell, Y/n," Hoseok growls, the sound spurring him on as he lowers his thighs to snap his hips even faster, "Are you that desperate for cock, baby?" 

Your next moan is torn from your throat as the new angle causes Hoseok's cock to bump straight into your sweet spot, the unrelenting hammering of his length making you see stars. You can't even close your mouth properly to stop the drool that slides past your lips, your whole body numb with pleasure. 

Hoseok grunts as your walls flutter around him, his gaze flickering from the dazed expression on your face to the couch. He smirks as he sees Jimin with his hand around his cock, the younger's half-lidded eyes watching your fucked out expression intently as he strokes his length. Seokjin has finally caved too, palming himself slowly over his underwear, jeans discharged to the side. 

Hoseok grins as he meets Seokjin's narrowed eyes, his thrusts slowing down in favor of grinding his hips in deep, slow circles. One of his hands slides from your waist to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to pull your head up. It leaves you staring straight at Seokjin and Jimin, moans and whimpers falling freely from your parted mouth as Hoseok pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

Hoseok pats your side, voice a little mean as he says, "Did you already forget about our competition, Y/n? I need you to look at hyung while I fuck you and let him know that he won't be able to get the same pretty sounds out of you as I am." 

"Can you do that, sunshine?"

You shudder as he tugs on your hair, the faint sting traveling straight down to your cunt. 

"Y-yes," You gasp, getting your hands under your just enough to raise your head on your own, holding the position Hoseok has left you in. 

His fingers drift back down to your waist, ghosting over the skin there before he slips between your legs, grazing over your clit. The contact makes you jolt, and you both moan as it drives his cock deeper into your cunt.

"That's right, it's time for your reward, baby." 

He starts rubbing circles against your clit as his thrusts once again turn sharper, quicker. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to keep holding Seokjin's burning gaze as you're pounded into the table. Being watched so openly, so attentively, only turns you on more. Your whole body is shaking, muscles pulled tight, as the wave of pleasure in your belly begins to crest. You know there's no way you can hold back, not with how determined Hoseok is to make you explode. You're bringing Hoseok there right along with you though, your cunt clenching so sweetly around his cock that he knows he's not going to last very long. 

It's a particularly deep thrust combined with Hoseok rolling your clit between his fingers that finally sends you over the edge. You cry out as you reach your climax, trembling as your release washes over you. Hoseok groans as your walls clamp down around him with a vice grip, his hips glued to yours as he grinds once, twice, before stiffening as his orgasm hits. You moan weakly as you feel his come spurt into your cunt, flooding it with warmth. 

You're not quite sure when your eyes slipped shut, but when you open them, you find Seokjin practically looming over you from the couch, jaw clenched. He must've pulled his cock out at some point, the length flushed red from the slow, unsatisfying drag of his fingers. You whimper as Hoseok presses a tender kiss to the back of your neck, Seokjin darkly watching the action like he's one second away from throwing Hoseok to the side to take his place. 

"You're amazing, Y/n," Hoseok says, massaging your sides as he slowly shuffles back and slips out of you. 

You let your head drop to the table, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Hoseok keeps rubbing your back until your limbs stop shaking and you feel a little more like yourself.

"Angel," Seokjin calls from the couch, "Are you sure you want to keep going? We can stop if you're tired." 

You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you take in the sight of Seokjin's hand wrapped around his hard cock, squeezing the base to keep his release from building without you. It twitches under your attention, another pearl of pre-come dripping out of the tip to slick up his length even more, coating his flushed skin. 

"I'm sure," You nod, glancing up at him through your lashes as you say, "Need you." 

"Fuck, alright," Seokjin curses, gripping his cock even tighter. "Come here then, angel, and you'll get what you want." 

The simmering heat in your belly roars back to life at Seokjin's words. You carefully push yourself up until you're standing on your feet, Hoseok's hands curled around your arms for support. You can feel Hoseok's come shift in your belly as take a step forward, whining as a bit drips out of your cunt and trails down to your thigh. 

Hoseok tsks. "You better keep all of that inside, sunshine. Don't waste another drop." 

You clench your walls tight, stumbling awkwardly over to the couch as you try to heed Hoseok's warning. Seokjin has already rid himself of his clothes by the time you reach him, his strong hands pulling you into his lap, making you straddle him. 

"Hi, angel," Seokjin smiles, cupping your face to run his thumb across your cheek. He winds the other around your middle, holding you close to his chest.

You practically melt into Seokjin's gentle embrace, nuzzling into his warm hand, "Hi yourself." 

Seokjin pulls you down to connect your lips with his, the softness of the first few pecks quickly turning more heated as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You bring your hands behind his neck, gliding your fingers through the soft hair there to tug him closer. The way Seokjin kisses you, hungry yet tender at the same time, leaves your head spinning. He swallows up the moan you let out, tongue twirling around yours as he uses his grip on your waist to grind you against his cock. 

You gasp at the first contact, at the feel of his hard cock slipping through your folds, bumping against your clit. You clench helplessly as Hoseok's come begins to leak out of your hole, your walls too stretched to hold it in. The spread of your legs makes it even harder, and the grind of Seokjin's length just arouses you more, making your cunt flutter with the need of being full again. You scrape your teeth along Seokjin's plush lips, whining as you say, "I-I can't–" 

His mouth pauses against yours as he feels something wet drip onto his thigh, understanding dawning on him as he feels your skin heat up with embarrassment. Seokjin removes his hand from your cheek in favor of bringing it down to your dripping cunt, scooping up the come clinging to your cunt before he fingers it back into you. 

"So messy," He murmurs, mouthing along your jaw as he adds another finger, pumping them slowly back and forth, pushing all of it deeper inside your pussy. The wet sucking sound of your cunt eagerly accepting it all back in makes you moan, eyes slipping shut as you hide your face in Seokjin's neck. 

He lets out a low chuckle at your shyness, removing his fingers to replace them with his cock. You mewl into Seokjin's neck as he guides his cock into you steadily, the hand on your waist slowly bringing you down until you're fully seated on his length. You can feel it throbbing deep in your guts, your breaths shaky as you adjust to him. 

"Gods, you feel so good," Seokjin moans as your wet, warm walls welcome him in, your and Hoseok's release slicking his cock. He moves both of his hands to your hips, gently rubbing the red marks Hoseok left there. 

You lightly raise yourself up before you sink back down, getting yourself used to the position and Seokjin's cock. You move your hands to his shoulders, setting a slow pace that gradually picks up as Seokjin's hands begin to roam. Your hips stutter as he reaches up to cup one of your breasts, flicking your nipple teasingly before he rolls it between his fingers, tugging on it in a way that makes your cunt vibrate with pleasure. He moans at the response he gets, his dark eyes drinking you in.

"Love your breasts," Seokjin groans, leaning forward to take it into his mouth, "You shouldn't keep them covered up, angel."  

"Seokjin, fuck," You dig your nails into his back as he closes his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your next drop down on Seokjin's cock is a little harsher than before, a choked moan leaving you as your pleasure once again begins to build. Seokjin gives your other breast the same treatment, steadily rocking his hips up to meet yours as you ride him. 

He gives your nipple another swipe of his tongue before he kisses his way back up to your neck, biting down in a way you know is going to bruise. He wets the skin to soothe it, repeating the motion all over your throat as you reward him with pretty, breathy whimpers. You eventually grow restless and duck down to capture his mouth, the kisses filthy and messy as you keep rolling your hips. 

"Pretty," Seokjin moans between kisses, "You're so pretty, Y/n. Absolutely amazing." 

It's only when your thighs start shaking, burning with tiredness, that Seokjin takes over. His large hands grasp your ass, keeping a tight grip on your cheeks as he raises his knees to fuck into you. Seokjin picks up the pace from where you left off, his hands moving your body down to meet every thrust, impaling you on his cock with every stroke. He grunts as you clench down around him when he reaches particularly deep, brushing over your sweet spot. 

You slump against Seokjin's chest as he truly begins to lose his restraint, moaning against his skin as he pounds into you. The sting of your red cheeks slapping against Seokjin's hard thighs with every thrust just makes the fire in your stomach roar, the pleasure pain of it getting you to the finish line faster. 

You try to meet his thrust the best you can but the way Seokjin reaches so deep into your belly leaves you feeling a little dumbstruck, floaty. It's like your muscles have turned to jelly. 

Your cunt sounds sloppy as Seokjin hammers into you, fucking you so hard you swear you can see the outline of his cock in your stomach. Moans and whines fall freely from your lips, Seokjin's name gasped out with every thrust. Your oldest soulmate is feeling more competitive than he first let on and for a half second, you worry he might actually fuck you stupid in his quest to make you come harder than Hoseok could. 

You can feel him tensing up more with every thrust, as close to exploding as you are, the sounds of your skin slapping together echoing through the room. You don't want to come too soon, not without letting Seokjin finish too, but his next words do you in.

"You can let go now, angel," Seokjin half groans, half murmurs between one stroke and the next, "It's time to fill your pretty pussy to the brim – to stuff you full just like you wanted." 

You cunt spasms the moment you get permission to come, your walls hugging Seokjin's cock so firmly he can barely move his hips as your release hits you like a freight train. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Seokjin grinds you down against his cock, your clit rubbing over his toned stomach. Your moans are unintelligible, slurred, as Seokjin keeps up his pace for another dozen thrusts. It prolongs your orgasm, your toes curling as Seokjin finally hits his own high. 

His loud moan sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your cunt massaging his length as he spills into it with hot spurts. Your arms are shaking like a leaf as you push yourself up, just enough to look at Seokjin's face.

He's a sight to behold with his head thrown back, his flushed chest rising and falling with every hard breath. His hair is messy from you tugging on it, his skin glowing with the sheen of sweat that has settled on you both. He looks beautiful.

You clumsily kiss his swollen lips, your body still too fucked out to work properly.

Seokjin opens his eyes slowly, grinning as he says, "There's my pretty girl." 

"Are you feeling okay?" He winds his arms around your back, plastering you against his racing heart. 

You open and close your mouth a few times, feeling dehydrated and exhausted, the words just a little too far out of your reach. 

You blink as Jimin suddenly pops into view, his smile bordering on feral as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "Oh, our poor baby is completely cock drunk," He coos.

You whine out a protest, too tired to engage in Jimin's teasing. He's also not... entirely wrong. 

"Thank you for the show, baby, you looked so fucking good," Jimin groans, adjusting himself in his sweats. He must have come while Seokjin was fucking you, too excited by the view in front of him to keep up with his comments. One of Seokjin's moans had sounded a little airer than normal, so you can only conclude that it was Jimin, hitting his own release while you were chasing yours. 

"It's a shame you're on birth control, otherwise the hyungs would've bred you so well," He pouts, his eyes shining with something wicked at the reaction it causes. 

You can't help but clench down around Seokjin, the dirty talk hot despite you not being close to ready to have kids. 

"Jimin," Seokjin warns, his cock twitching with interest inside your warm cunt. 

Even Hoseok lets out a pained groan from where he's perched on a nearby chair, his cock half-hard in his jeans. 

"Fine," Jimin huffs. He brushes his lips against yours, tone sweet as he asks, "Well then, baby, who won the competition? Which hyung fucked you the best?" 

You watch Hoseok tense up just as Seokjin's arms tighten around you, both anxious to know the result. You share a sly look with Jimin – one that makes him chuckle and shake his head – before you turn your face into Seokjin's neck, hiding your smile as you say, "Mhm.. It's a tie." 

"What do you think?" 

You smack your lips together, savoring the slightly tangy sauce. Yoongi watches you carefully, the spoon still hovering near your lips.

"It's good!" You grin, "I think it's perfect." 

Yoongi's smile turns into a pout as he glances down at the spoon, "Ah, but now I can't taste it. Hyung would kill me if I double-dipped."

"Can't you just grab–"

Your words are cut off by Yoongi's lips, a sweet kiss being pressed against your mouth. He lightly sucks your bottom lip between his own, his tongue just barely dipping into your mouth. He flashes you a gummy smile as he pulls back, nodding in satisfaction, "You're right, it is perfect."

"Hey!" You whine, lightly hitting his shoulder, "You totally set me up."

Your heart flutters as Yoongi leans in again, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he says, "Maybe." 

He steals another kiss before he turns back to the simmering pot in front of him, the spoon abandoned in the sink. You huff, stepping up behind him to rest your head against his back, your arms wrapping around his middle. Yoongi always smells like forest and warmth, something pleasant you just want to lie down and sleep in. 

Yoongi hums a low tune as you stand there, basking in the warmth of his body and the promise of a tasty lunch. He places one hand on top of yours, petting your skin, as he slowly stirs the pot with the other. 

"Hyung, I'm hungry!" 

You open your eyes to find Taehyung walking into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach with a pout. He brightens up as he sees you, the magazines in his hand thrown to the counter as he quickly rounds it to attach himself to your back. 

"Babe, I thought you were still in bed," Taehyung whines against your neck.

"Got hungry," You giggle. You lean more of your weight onto Yoongi, laughing as he complains about having two clingy brats as soulmates. You can see the fond smile on his face as you peek over his shoulder, the way he easily braces his feet to accept the two bodies practically lying on top of him. 

"Oh right! How long until the food is ready, hyung? I'm starving," Taehyung sighs dramatically. "My client is a fucking ass, he went almost an hour over time in our meeting complaining about things I can't even fix. It's not my fault his secretary is useless." 

"I'm sorry, Tae. Can't you drop him if he's being too unreasonable?" You ask.

Taehyung grumbles against your neck, his body tight with tension, "I wish. He brings too much money to the company to even consider ending the contract with him. He knows he can act like an ass and get away with it because he's practically paying us to babysit him." 

Yoongi lets out an annoyed snort, shaking his head as he says, "I hate to say it, but he's not going to be the only shitty client you're going to have to deal with. It comes with the job." 

"I know, hyung," Taehyung sighs. "But you know what's not shitty? Your cooking! And having some of your food would definitely brighten me up." 

"Brat," Yoongi chuckles. "It'll be done in five minutes, you can go grab some plates while it finishes cooking." 

Taehyung gives the back of your head a loud smooch before he skips over to one of the cupboards, doing as Yoongi instructed. 

You finally detach yourself from Yoongi's back, smiling at Taehyung's antics as you glance over at the magazines he dropped off earlier. You reach out to shuffle through them, none of them particularly piquing your interest until you catch sight of a flyer tucked between two pages. 

You carefully pull it out, excitement thrumming through your body as you realize it's for a flower parade. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the town name, knowing it's a city that's only about an hour away from your old one. You're not sure if the house is within its limit or if it's just a neighboring one, but it does finally give you an idea of where you are. You quickly glance up at Taehyung and Yoongi, deliberately placing your thumb over the name as you notice that neither of them has seen you with it yet. 

"What's this?" You softly clear your throat, grabbing Yoongi's attention as you show it to him.

You see Yoongi's shoulders rise, his eyes frantically scanning the flyer until he sees your thumb. He motions for the paper, angling it away from you once it's in his hands, making sure the town name can't be seen.

"Ah, this," He gives you a slightly uneasy smile, "It's an annual flower parade they do in the town over to celebrate the beginning of summer. It says it's supposed to happen next weekend." 

You keep your expression schooled, tucking away that new piece of information into the back of your mind. 

"That sounds like fun! Do you think we could go?" You ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. "I would love to see it." 

You're beginning to border on frantic for a change of scenery, for something that isn't just the four walls of this house. The garden does help and you have been allowed on a few walks around the neighbourhood, but it isn't enough. You will go stir crazy at some point or another if they keep you cooped up here forever. 

"What flower parade?" Taehyung walks over to Yoongi, peering down at the flyer. You cheer inwardly as Taehyung's smile broadens to a grin, a pleading expression taking over his face as he says, "Hyung, that looks like so much fun. We should all go watch it!" 

You know that Taehyung has a penchant for flowers, that he loves them almost as much as Seokjin does. After all, there's a reason you always received them along with your letters. 

"I don't know," Yoongi chews on his bottom lip, eyeing the flyer nervously. 

"Hyung," Taehyung whines, "pleaseeee. You know I love stuff like this." 

"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" You propose, knowing you need to calm Yoongi's worried thoughts before he settles on a firm no.

"We'll only do it if everyone wants to go. I would love to experience it with you guys though–" You muster up a soft smile, your heart squeezing painfully at the truth as you say, "I've always wanted to do something like that with my soulmate. It seems really romantic." 

Yoongi's gaze is unreadable as he stares down at the flyer. You're almost holding your breath by the time his shoulders finally sag, his voice defeated as he murmurs, "Sure, if that's something you want, we'll discuss it later." 

You giggle behind your hand as Taehyung tackles Yoongi into a hug, your heart racing in your chest. As long as you play your cards right, you might finally get that taste of freedom you've been wanting for so long. Luckily for you, after almost eight months trapped together with your soulmates, you know just what buttons to push to sway the boys to your will. 

It only takes some begging and a little sweet talk to win the rest of the boys over. Their unease and suspicion quickly melt away as you murmur sweetly about how romantic you find the event – and that while you are nervous about the crowds (a lie), you wouldn't mind it as long as they stick close to you. Taehyung and Seokjin's enthusiasm for it works in your favor too, as Seokjin's bubbling excitement over finally getting to experience the flower parade erases the last of Yoongi's anxieties. 

The week leading up to the parade passes syrupy slow, the days dragging on as if they're mocking you. You're a bundle of nerves by the time you're driving into the city, squirming in your seat as you get closer and closer to your goal. If everything goes well during the parade, you'll be one step closer to earning their full trust – to them letting you go. 

The blindfold around your head comes off the moment the car passes by the town sign, the boys still taking whatever precautions they can to limit your knowledge about where you are. You already know, of course, but you have no intention of letting that slip. It's better if they think that you don't.

"Here we are, darling," Namjoon offers you his hand as he opens the door for you. His grip is iron-tight as you intertwine your fingers, clearly on edge as you step out to join the rest of the group. 

There's an air of tension wrapped around them all as they flock around you, one that doesn't dissipate even when they flank you at all sides as you walk further into town. Jimin has claimed the other side of your body, wrapping one of his arms snuggly around your waist, anchoring you to him. Nervous. 

Hoseok and Jungkook keep throwing glances over their shoulders as they walk in front of you, making sure you're still there whenever you go quiet for more than a few seconds. You can practically feel Taehyung and Seokjin breathing down your neck, their steps matching yours perfectly as they hold up the back. Yoongi keeps drifting back and forth like he can't quite decide where he should be to best ensure your safety. 

It should be suffocating but their behavior is simply pushed to the back of your mind, unimportant, when you finally lay eyes on actual people, strangers, crossing the street in front of you. A lump forms in the back of your throat as you watch a group of friends spill out of a nearby shop, their laughter echoing in your ears long after they've passed you by. 

The town is loud and bustling, music seeping out from every building you pass by. They've embraced the parade to the fullest, decorating the pathways with beautiful florals hanging from every lamp post and flower archways adorning some of the more expensive shops. It's like you've stepped into an explosion of colour as you reach the main street, no stone left undecorated and flowers clinging to every possible surface. The people milling about are just as colourful, the majority of them wearing bright, fun clothing, their faces painted with different patterns and artistic renditions of florals. You've heard talk of this parade before but you had no idea it was this big of a deal, that the townspeople take such pride in the event. 

"I think there's an available spot over there!" Jungkook points to somewhere in the middle of the street, leading the group over to the area he saw. It's just big enough for all of you to squeeze into, leaving you almost first in line on the sidewalk to watch the parade.

You've barely planted your feet on the ground when you hear a couple occupy the spot behind you, the rest of the sidewalk filling up quickly as the start of the event draws near. 

You look around, taking in the sights around you, your senses a little overwhelmed with the colours and noise after so many months of nothing but your soulmates for company. Your heart is picking up speed, matching the sound of distant drums as your gaze glides from couple to couple, their bright expressions and relaxed postures nothing like the love you know. 

The couples across the street hold their lover's hand gently, arms resting loosely around their shoulders to provide a safe bubble against the crowds around them. They lean into each other's bodies for comfort, to bear the ache of standing on their feet for a long time. 

Your lovers hold your hand with bruising grips, arms wound around your body like snakes, constricting you tighter and tighter with every breath. There's no comfort in their embrace, not when they cling to you with desperation – like they'd bury themselves under your skin if they only could.

You swallow thickly, your palm going clammy in Namjoon's tight hold.  

"You okay, darling?" Namjoon asks, leaning down to make sure you hear him over the crowd. 

"I'm fine," You lie, offering him a faint smile, "It's just a lot of people." 

"Let me know the moment it becomes too much and we'll leave," Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, giving you a worried look. He doesn't turn away until you reassure him that you're okay, your mouth dry with the untruths that keep spilling from it. 

You can feel the sun beating down your neck, pearls of sweat forming along your back, sending shivers down your spine as they race down it. Seokjin, now in front of you, is taking pictures, capturing every little detail of the flower arrangements and different colourful species that have been grouped together along the street. The shutter of his camera sounds like bullets firing through the air, quickening your pulse with every snap. 

"There it is!" Taehyung grins, pointing down the street. 

Your vision feels like it's swimming as you turn your head to look, the drums so loud they force your heart to skip to the beat, sending it into a frenzy. You stare in a daze as people dance and cheer as they walk past you, flower petals raining down as they throw handfuls out of the baskets they're carrying. A float pauses in front of you, the florals an organized mess of every colour you can imagine. There's a particular arrangement you can't look away from, one that fills your stomach with dread.

It's them.

The tower in the middle of the float is made up of red, pink, purple, blue, green, yellow, and orange flowers, the same kaleidoscope of colors that have been haunting you for the past years. 

It's like a punch to the gut, reality suddenly snapping back into place. The cheers around you turn muffled, your mind reeling with the possibilities you've been suppressing for so long. 

Your mind flashes back to the police station you saw as you drove into town.

This city must be far enough away from your old one that Jimin won't have any connections here. The chances are slim that there are any officers here that are enamored with him, that worship him, like they do where he currently works. They might have heard of him and how he saved Jungkook, but you doubt they would dismiss your case just based on his reputation. Jimin might have already been talking to the officers in your new town, just in case you try something stupid, so this – this might be your only chance at getting real help. 

Heejun and Jaemin will for sure corroborate your story, and if the officers are quick, they should be able to secure the needed evidence. You know exactly where your old letters and gifts are stored in the attic. Hell, some of them are even displayed around the house. It shouldn't be difficult to find something incriminating. 

But–

Your gaze sweeps to the side, lingering on the boys. Jungkook's precious bunny smile is on display as he watches the dancers move around the street, a hint of awe in his eyes. Taehyung is practically hanging off Seokjin's back, pointing to everything he wants Seokjin to capture with his camera. The boys look mesmerized by the parade, their earlier tension eased by the excitement in the air. 

Your soul feels split in half, torn between what you want and what you should do. You don't want to leave them, despite everything they've put you through. They are your soulmates and over the past months, you've grown to really, really like them. The thought of leaving them hurts you, makes your heart ache something fierce, but you also know that you can never have a proper life if you stay. You are terribly worried about what might happen to them – the bond – if you go away, but you're also limiting the possibilities of ever finding a cure for their sickness if you don't. Maybe there's someone out there who can help you and them if you only look. 

Jimin's arm has fallen away from your waist during the parade, his hands around his mouth as he cheers for the performers.

You slowly ease your hand out of Namjoon's grip, hoping your smile isn't as shaky as it feels as you quickly explain, "I just need to tie my shoe."

Your knees nearly buckle as Namjoon gives you a once over, terrified that he might somehow catch you out. But Namjoon simply just smiles, showing off his dimples as he nods and turns back to watch the parade. 

You take a step back, crouching down to tie your slightly loose shoelace. Flower petals keep flitting around you, carried by the wind as they swoop and dance across the ground. You secure your shoe with a tight knot, the tips of your fingers so cold you can barely feel them from the anxiety crashing around inside your body.

You slowly stand back up, taking another small step back. 

None of the boys reach out for you, recapture you, their attention caught by the spectacle in front of them. Your group has been moved around by the crowd enough that another step has you standing behind all of them, watching with labored breath as you wait for their realization that you're not anchored to any of them. 

It doesn't come.

The chaos of the parade provides you with the cover you need to inch back, the loud drums and petals covering the ground muffling your footsteps. Your eyes flicker wildly between the seven of them, trying to figure out if any of them have noticed you beginning to slip away, but all you see is the boys laughing and smiling, their focus somewhere else. 

The couple that was standing behind you is now in front of you, their bodies forming a small wall, a shield, against your soulmates. The crowd behind you easily part as you advance backward, eager for a chance to get a closer look at the parade. Your body feels like a live wire, dread and adrenaline pumping through your veins at a rate that leaves you dizzy. 

Your heart is a jumbled mess of stay, go, stay, go – but your mind knows what it needs to do.

You take a mental picture of the sight in front of you, saving the image of the boys looking happy and beautiful, surrounded by warm sunlight and fluttering petals. 

For later. As a reminder that things could be good. 

It's only once you've reached the back of the street, the distance between you and them so wide that you can barely see Namjoon's head as he slowly turns to where you once stood, waving hands partially obscuring his face as his expression twists into despair, that you let crowd swallow you whole and run. 

a/n: thank you all so much for following along with this story for over three years!! what was supposed to be a short 20k fic suddenly turned into one that was 120k haha, but i've had so much fun working on LS and reading all of your theories have been amazing! 💖 thank you to everyone who voted in the original poll, this story is a collab between you and me :')

i know that the ending will leave some of you with a lot of questions and i can answer the most important one right away: No, I don't have any current plans for a sequel. I have told the story I wanted to tell and I'm happy with where it ended :) However, I might be open to doing some commissions down the line of "missing" scenes from the story if that's something you guys want!

it would mean the absolute world to me if you'd leave me a comment/reblog and let me know what you think of the final chapter! 💖 and if you'd feel so inclined, i do have a kofi if you'd like to support me with a coffee!

thank you all so much again!! i do have a few exciting fics coming up so i do hope you stick around for those!

lots of love, maggy.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Period Drabble; LADS

Word count; 1,267

Warnings; mention of periods, slight stereotypes like mood swings and etc, fluff

Notes; So, since mine just started, I thought I'd just do a little drabble. They're not the best to be honest, but I just wanted to post something and it seems cute/fluffy enough! Periods are only vaguely mentioned in Rafayel's, but I think it still works.

One of Zayne's secret times also inspired me, they all have at least one period related secret time– which I find really sweet. Zayne's mentioned the raspberry tea and the massage, which I actually did for a bit today and it 100% helped. At least, for a little bit before I woke up enough to take some tylenol.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy, it's rather short and I didn't proof-read at all, but it'll be fine since it's a just drabble. I have a few more drabble ideas, but this one was more of a random idea so apologizes that it's not formatted well!

Xavier

“Are you alright? Sorry– shouldn't have asked that.” Xavier immediately retracts his question whenever your head whips around to look at him. 

You were curled up in a ball, sitting on the floor, and trying to slowly breathe until your pain medication kicks in. 

The first few days of your period were always rough. The pain akin to…Well, it was hard to describe. It definitely hurt though, that's for sure. 

“I'll be right back.” Xavier pats your head as he steps past you, but you wrap your arms around his leg. “Where are you going?” You couldn't tell that you were being clingy nor did you notice that your mood swings were all over the place. You honestly thought you were acting as normal as ever. 

“I'm going to the store, okay?” He chuckles, kneeling down to remove your hands from his leg. He holds both of them in-between his and dips his head down to place a small kiss on your knuckles. “I'll be back in a flash. You'll never even realize I left.” 

Disappointment bubbles in your chest and you let out a sigh, but nod your head. “Okay…” you didn't exactly want to be alone, but if Xavier needed to leave for a moment, you didn't want to bother him and make him stay. 

And indeed, Xavier was back very soon. In record time. 

He re-enters the apartment, seemingly out of breath, but the moment you look at him, he stands up straight. He has a plastic bag in his hands as he walks over to you. 

He kneels back down next to you and starts sifting through the bag. “I got some chocolate…I didn't know what kind you liked so I got regular, white, dark, and mint.” As he sets them down on the coffee table, you quickly grab your favourite to open it up. 

You start eating as Xavier continues with a chuckle, “I got a heating pad, some chamomile tea, some raspberries…” 

“You didn't have to get all of this…” You say, but you can't hide the smile on your lips. While he really didn't need to do all of this, you did appreciate it. A lot. 

“Oh, I also looked up some massages that can relieve cramps. I could do those for you later, if you want?” 

Rafayel 

“Hey– stop throwing brushes at me!” Rafayel huffs with a hand on his hip. “I'm sorry I got some paint on you.” 

You pause mid-throw and raise a brow, “I told you I wasn't in the mood to play around.” A thick purple line of dried paint decorates your cheek. 

“And I just apologized for that!” Rafayel throws his hands up in the air before he walks over to grab a washcloth. He wets it and heads back over to you. “Truce?” 

“I–” you sigh before shaking your head. “Fine. I guess I'm sorry too.” 

The purple-haired man chuckles as he tilts your chin up with a finger. “Look, if I knew you were on your period, I wouldn't have done that. Seriously, do I look like I want to die today?” He gently wipes your cheek with the wet cloth. 

“I'll help you clean up your brushes.” You reluctantly say, a little embarrassed at your overreaction, but you did tell him you didn't want to play around today. 

“I have a better idea.” Rafayel tosses the washcloth onto the table once he's done and picks up a lone paint brush from the floor. “Here. Paint on me.” 

“Huh?” 

“You can paint on me to your heart's content and until you feel better.” He curls your fingers around the brush and then gives you a small smile. “After that, we can make something to eat. I picked up a few boxes of cake mix, so we can bake one together.” 

Sylus 

“Sylus–” 

“It's fine, sweetie. I just threw the bedsheets in the wash, along with your clothes.” The taller man says as he walks back into the room. 

You sat, curled up against the headboard of the naked bed, with your head buried into your knees. 

“I don't see why you're embarrassed over it. A period is a normal thing.” Sylus shrugs as he sits down on the bed, patting the mattress so you'd move to sit next to him. “I sent the twins out to go procure some pads, tampons, and whatever else you might need. It's a shame the N109 Zone doesn't sell any of it…I might have to fix that.” He hums. 

You sigh and slowly move to sit next to Sylus, doing your best not to move too much. “It's a normal thing, yes, but it's embarrassing to wake up and have…blood all over the bed.” 

“You should be glad it's only your period. I would've thought you were dying otherwise.” The white-haired man laughs before handing you a bottle of pills. “It's the only pain medication we have around here. If you can't take it, I'll have Mephisto go out and get some more.” 

“Stop talking about it.” You hide your face in your hands. 

“Alright, I'm sorry, kitten. Just take your medicine before the pain kicks in. I'll go make you some tea.” He pats your hand but, as he goes to stand up, you feel your body jerk forward. 

“Sylus–” you bite back your anger, momentarily thinking that he was dragging you by the wrist, but when you look down you realize your wrists were connected with that annoying red light. “Seriously?” Why now of all times?

“It seems like you really didn't want me to leave you alone.” Sylus muses with a raised brow before he carefully picks you up. “I'll have to make your tea like this then.” 

“Hey–” 

“Would you rather I drag you around? I really don't want to piss you off. I think I'd actually fear for my life if I did.” 

Zayne 

“Don't get up.” You hear Zayne whisper and the bed shifts as the older man moves to get up. “I'll go make you some raspberry tea for your cramps.”

“Zayne…” Your hand pats against the bed, searching for him and you hear him sigh, his hand resting on top of yours. 

“I'll be right back, snow angel.”

“Let me help you sit up.” Zayne places the mug of hot tea on the bedside table, his hand moving to rest against your back as he aids you in sitting up. “Is the pain too bad? I'd hate for you to rely on medication, but if it's hurting too much, I can get some for you.” 

“It's not…too bad right now.” But your facial expression betrays you as a sharp pain floods through your lower abdomen. 

“Here.” Zayne lifts a spoon from the tea, blowing on it to cool it off, and lifts the spoon to your lips. “These raspberries should help with your cramps.” 

After you drink some more of the tea, Zayne gets back in bed next to you. His chest against your back and his hands rest slightly under your stomach. 

“Sleep for a little while longer…I'll keep massaging here, so you won't be in pain while you sleep.” The black haired man places a soft kiss on your head. 

His fingers gently push down on your lower abdomen, moving in a slow, circular motion. 

It felt…soothing. It was also surprisingly taking the pain away, but that could also be from the tea. 

“Do you have work today?” You tiredly ask, a yawn escaping from your lips and you feel Zayne shake his head. 

“I'm taking off. A certain patient requires all of my attention, at least for today."

[gendercomsumer]

hiii ^^ I would like some headcanons for riddle, malleus, vil and rook with a fem mc that accidentally ends up making them laugh (because what she says or does is very random xd maybe an example would be like jennifer lawrence sjjs she is very funny ) well that's all, thanks and take care <3

Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook with an S/O who can make them laugh with the most random things

A/N: Hello to you too Anon! I know this has been in my inbox for gods knows how long- But thank you still for sending this in! I hope this is to your liking! I actually did watch some Jennifer Lawrence videos for inspiration and I have to agree the comedic timing she has is perfect!! I also used some google translate in Rooks part so it may not be accurate ^^;

Characters: Riddle, Malleus, Vil, and Rook

Warnings: Cursing to a mild degree, playful mention of stalking in Rooks (I love him I swear!!!), lightly proof read

Fem!Reader

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is a bit difficult to get a good genuine laugh out of, at least in my opinion.

Like sure you have a small chuckle when he finds something amusing, but i feel like it'd be a bit of a challenge to get a good genuine laugh out of.

Then you came in, saying the strangest things at the most unrelated times!

And Ace and Deuce find this absolutely hilarious

You'll say the most out of pocket shit with the straightest face and somehow half the people around you start to laugh some others breaking out in giggles

Ace and Deuce have definitely talked about this 'talent' of yours, at least in their words.

You had said some of these strange comments around Riddle and he found them strange a bit endearing as well

I'd think the time you got a good laugh out of him was when you had come with him to take care of some of the hedgehogs

The two of you were sitting in the grass some of the hedgehogs were playing while a few had decided that climbing on the two of you was a good way to pass the time

One had wandered up onto your head and almost fell off but luckily you were able to save the little guy before he fully hit the ground

After Riddle worriedly checked the little guy over you while looking over his shoulder at the small animal said:

"Well at least we know this one has no self preservation"

Unwillingly, or maybe subconsciously, a small laugh makes it's way through Riddles chest to his lips.

Well, now maybe he saw what those two were blabbering on about

Your little comments were always appreciated with Riddle

Even if they didn't cause him to laugh they did brighten his mood at least somewhat

"Yes, this one does tend to be a bit of a handful. Reminds me of a certain rose I know"

He teased before you two fell back into the pattern of caring for the small animals

More chuckles and comments to come no doubt

Malleus Draconia

At first Malleus didn't understand why the rest of Diasomnia found your remarks so comical

Yes his child of man did tend to bring a certain warmth where ever she walked

But he didn't see this as an excuse for the amount of laughter you cause people around you

Most of the remarks you make will fly over his head

I'm sorry but he seems like the kind of guy to not get the joke until you explain it to him-

Now the Thorn Prince does share a few chuckles with those around him when he finds something amusing, similar to Riddle

But it's even more difficult to get a laugh out of him considering he doesn't get a lot of the play on words type of jokes

but something abrupt and slightly out of context?

I feel like that would get some sort of laugh out of him

One day you were talking with Malleus about some of the things you did in your old world

The topic of amusement parks came up and you started listing the rides you used to go on as a child

Roller coasters, bumper cars, lazy rides where you could relax, until you blanked on the name of a ride

It was frustrating considering it was probably something simple and you would remember it after their conversation, but you wanted to keep the ball rolling

Malleus mean while was partly enjoying seeing how frustrated you got over a simple word

You really were a strange thing weren't you Child of man?

"I'm sorry Mal- I know what I'm thinking of! It's on the tip of my tongue- It's like one of those horse tornado things!"

Horse.. tornado..?

Now that got Malleus attention

he understood the other rides you described, favoring the lazy rides

but what ever this horse tornado was... it sounded.. strange, yet curious at the same time

"CAROUSELS!! FUCKING CAROUSELS, THAT'S WHAT THEY'RE CALLED!"

Malleus let out a small puff of air before he started chuckling under his breath

You truly were a strange one weren't you child of man, just like the world you came from

Malleus pressed a kiss to your forehead letting out one more chuckle before speaking

"Truly fascinating, maybe one day you could bring me to one of these 'horse tornados' you have me interested"

Sure jokes your fly over his head, but he would tease you some what for your small skips in memory

Vil Schoenheit

Now Vil, having acted in a lot of movies, (If I'm correct) Would have probably had a few good laughs in that line of work

Weather that be on set or behind the cameras

But he doesn't often let out a good laugh in public, it's not really part of the proper image he'd want to put out there

As for behind closed doors or with close friends he's definitely willing to have a laugh

And who better to bring a smile to his face than his lovely sweet potato?

Though one good moment always stuck out to him that caused him to have one of the most genuine laughs in awhile

The two of you were getting ready to go out to a fancy restaurant, courtesy of Vil of course, hair, makeup, shoes things like that

While Vil was sitting at his vanity working on his eyes when you came out of the bathroom in a stunning dress hand picked by Vil

It brought out all your best features while still being enough coverage to where it wasn't uncomfortable to wear into a public area

The two of you made idle conversation as you sat on a near by chair to slip on a matching set of heels for the dress

As you stood up in the heels to work on your own makeup you lost your balance thanks to the new height the heels provided

Although Vil was quick to catch you making sure you came no where near the floor he still was concerned

"Oh sweet potato are you alright? What happened?"

Yes looking back on it the question seemed dumb but he was concerned

but you just let out a giggle while regaining your balance before saying:

"Well I'm not sure what happened, but I remember wanting to yell 'fuck' as my last words before I embarrassed myself"

Vil took a moment while looking at you

then a chuckle escaped his lips which soon turned into the two of you sharing a small laugh

Now Vil doesn't know why he laughs at your antics, in hindsight they're just normal phrases

But maybe it's the delivery?

Or the way you smile at him?

What ever it may be it always causes a smile to grace his lips or a chuckle to be drawn from him

Sure Vil maybe all about preserving beauty and making sure he looks flawless

But if he happens to get a few smile lines because of your antics, he will never hold it against you

"Well my darling, I'm glad to hear you're alright. It would be a shame if you or your lovely dress got roughed up before we left. Now come, you still want to do your makeup don't you? Allow me to help"

Rook Hunt

Now Rook has plenty of laughs in his life

Weather that be from stalking some poor soul or a genuine laugh among friends

Rook out of the four is probably the easiest to get a laugh from

He's a joyful guy wanting to see all nature and the world has to offer! Can you blame him?

Then enters you who some how can't help but leave Rook giggling when ever you do something!

You put your tie on wrong? Oh silly Trickster aren't you just the sweetest thing!

Then comes your words which to Rook is a whole new ball park

Rook tends to hold onto every word meant for him, weather that be written or spoken out loud

His darling Tricksters words are so elegant and so sweet how could he not treasure everyone!

What really gets him chuckling and laughing is the moments when your words aren't as sweet and graceful

Cut to one day when you and Rook were in the fields often used for flying class

Rook had a desire to teach you archery so he happened to drag you along with a quiver and bow to some targets set by his hand

After the first few moments of Rook teaching you how to properly hold and aim the bow and making sure your arm guard was secure (He wouldn't want his darling trickster to get rope burn!) He let you shoot

All was going well as you hit targets in an... acceptable way

But all that seemed to end when a large gust of wind sent your best shot yet off course and into the ground

And just as Rook was about to offer some encouragement to keep going and try once more

some colorful language came from you to say the least

"Wind!? Really!?! Could you not wait two fucking minuets!! Nooooo! You just had to thro my best shot off course you-!"

Now don't get Rook wrong he hold the sweet words you two share close to his heart

But there was just something about you yelling at the wind of all things that caused him to start laughing

As he laid on the grass of the field eyes closed as he laughed

Oh? It seems your colorful language is directed towards him now? Even better!

"Trickster- reine de mon coeur! Please I believe- I believe you have shared plenty enough words with the wind today!"

A/N: This is actually the first time I've taken a good look at the name of Malleus' dorm. Dia = Dragon. Somnia = Sleep

Diasomnia = Dragon of sleep

just a ting i found silly :)

[noctqrnxl]

my thoughts on the watcher update:

i am happy with this apology.

i will not let my guard down

i GENUINELY hope they learn to manage their finances better in the future

if they read through the comments then i hope they saw the thousands of people talking about how ryan and shane's banter >>> high quality content

i hope they get a little less out of touch??? and understand their audience??? and do some research before taking such a big decision????

i definitely hope that they find a balance between the high-quality content they want to create, doing so within understandable budget restraints, and the content WE want (which is mostly banter/talking. i used to hate anything horror-related but i loved bfu supernatural because SHANE AND RYAN MADE IT LESS SCARY!! I HAVE MADE POSTS ABOUT THIS BEFORE AS WELL!!)

contrary to what most people were saying, i actually liked steven the most at some point. when i'd watch too many spirits episodes it was steven's chaos (and eventually him and ricky's banter) that i looked forward to. i liked dish granted as well! yes i love shane and ryan, honestly who doesn't atp, but i always had a soft spot for steven. (i haven't seen a single worth it ep btw. the most i've seen of steven has been on watcher.) that's why the backlash against him specifically has been... tough to see. i acknowledge what people are saying and i also agree with it, but still. ykwim.

they look WRECKED. either they are very good actors all of a sudden or this was a more terrible weekend for them than i thought. (not to mention the bullying and harassment a lot of fans have done.)

as a lot of people have been pointing out, isn't WatcherTV basically Patreon??? i haven't signed up for either because, well, i'm an international fan 🙊 but still, it feels weird to have both??? idk (edit: they've closed up patreon for now)

i still think WatcherTV is a bad idea but hey, at least we will see the content on yt as well, right?

i hope one day we'll all joke about this. (i don't mean to say i want us to feel good about it, because i don't think we ever will. but still...)

[h2llish]

i've been following your blog for a while and absolutely adore your writing!

if its okay i'd love to see something with either leona or jamil (up to you!) and a reader who falls asleep on their shoulder during some sort of nrc road trip.. i'm not sure if nrc would have buses per say considering all the magic and stuff but the concept of an nrc school trip seems super interesting to me so if you're up for the request by all means just have fun with it!! i do notice that your requests are semi open so feel free to decline ofc !

— ☁️

⁀➷ ˖ ROAD TRIP DROWSINESS

notes ─── hi anon! i’m so happy you like my writing! i don't think they'd have buses at nrc because of the mirror, but crowley would probably spring a sudden road trip on them which would just confuse the students, because why? (i also imagine their bus would probably be a bit fancier? idk how to explain it but nothing like the busses i'm used to.)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ─── a wave of drowsiness leads you to find comfort on his shoulder ♡ fluff, gender neutral, can be read platonic or romantic, not proofread

transportation for students at nrc was not hard, all they had to do was enter the dark mirror and then they found themselves safely at their destination. so if it was that easy, why in the world was the headmage so adamant that they boarded this bus like they were kids back in middle school? ─ a road trip was his very (might many students say stupid) answer.

the only person who seemed to not have a problem with this sudden turn of events, was the magicless prefect from ramshackle. you didn't give any complaints or groan about using the easy way to get to the destination. you just nodded when the headmage announced the decision.

students were chosen at random, names drawn from a hat (a method the headmage seemed to rely on often).  and as the prefect, and the designated scapegoat for everything crowley did, you were of course among that group, with your dire beast other half. 

“i don't get it,” grim frowned, sitting on your shoulder as you approached the bus, where many familiar faces waited to board. “why can't we just use the mirror?”

ace was walking alongside you, being one of the people drawn to join the group. he had decided to met you at ramshackle, knowing you would inevitably have to board the bus as well. “i think the headmage called it some sort of bonding experience. don't know how a hours-long road will be a bonding experience.”

grim grumbled, turning his head to look at your face. you have yet to say anything to add to the conversation. “whaddya’ think, [name]?”

“what?” you blinked, sending a glance to the dire beast before looking ahead of you once more. “what do i think about what?”

“were you even listening to anything we just said?” ace sighed. 

you hummed, “i’ve learned to tune you guys out the moment you start speaking.” ─ and then you were wincing as the two of them shouted, leaning your head away from the monster as he and ace expressed how offended they were.

you sighed, this was going to be a long ride.

and right you were. 

things were okay (as okay as a group of irritable teenage boys with magic on a bus could be) during the first hour. but as the first hour turned to half, and you found yourself growing drowsy, you attempted to doze off, at least for a good twenty minutes. you were unsuccessful, as the moment you closed your eyes, you were quickly opening them to glance at a yelling grim.

epel and sebek, also being among the names drawn, were sitting next to you. epel and grim looked ready to pounce on an unnamed student who seemed to have picked a fight with them. ace didn't do much to stop the argument, in fact, he was actively encouraging it. and sebek, while he made an attempt to hold back a seething grim, was not of much help either. 

you sighed, but made no move to stop it ─ you expected something to happen eventually, and you weren't all that up to being the “reasonable” one of the group. you aren't sure what the argument was about, but neither did you care. if grim got in trouble for attacking a student, it would come back to bite you, but that was something for future you to worry about.

you glanced around the bus, before your attention landed on the savanaclaw housewarden sitting alone. ─ your friends continued to argue with the random guy, and you were sure they had no intention of ending the argument anytime soon. and you would rather sleep off some time on the road rather than listen to your friends go back and forth with someone you didn't even know the name of. you stood from your seat, uncaring of whether or not it was okay to do so as you approached the empty seat. 

leona had his head down, probably napping, the same thing you wanted to do. when you sat down beside him his ears twitched and he lifted his head to look at you, probably intending to scowl and scare off whoever had been stupid enough to sit beside him, until he realized it was you.

“what are you doing?” he frowned at you, but you went unfazed.

“sitting next to you, obviously.”

leona rolled his eyes, “why?”

instead of giving a verbal answer, you pointed at your friends, where sebek now had a grip on the scruff of grim’s neck, keeping him from jumping at the student. ace was laughing, offering no help to the half-fae. epel was no better than grim, with sebek’s arm held out in front of him, keeping him from doing anything.

"so you came to bother me instead?" he asked, and you looked at him straight-faced.

"yup."

leona sighed, but he didn't tell you to scram (not like you would if he did). he didn't say anything else, only close his eyes again and turning away, likely to try and nap. you weren't offended by his lack of reply, leaning your head back against the seat and trailing your eyes over the bus and your peers.

the longer you sat in somewhat silence ─ save for the incoherent yelling from your friends, you had for the most part zoned out, and the chatter of those on board ─ you found yourself falling to the drowsiness that have been interrupted before. you closed your eyes and let the movement of the bus guide you to sleep.

leona was awake, annoyed by the bus and those on the bus. his ears twitched when he heard your breathing slow beside him and he lifted his head, just as your head lolled to the side and you leaned against his shoulder.

he sighed, but made no move to push you off, glancing around you at the rest of the students of nrc, who were all either sleeping themselves, or chatting with friends. he leaned his head back, eyeing you as you shifted for a moment before relaxing again.

"where'd [name] go?" leona could hear your friends ask, no longer distracted by the argument that they were having with the random student.

he looked back at them, just in time to catch ace's eye, who was the first to see you sleeping against leona. he looked ready to say something, but leona narrowed his eyes on the first year. ace immediately shut his mouth, grinning awkwardly as he turned back to his friends.

leona huffed, looking back down at you to make sure you didn't stir. he adjusted in more comfortable position, an arm resting behind you on the seat, allowing you to lean closer, and hopefully, be more comfortable than leaning against his shoulder the way you had. and then he closed his eyes and joined you in a nap for the rest of the ride. (at least until they stopped for a break.)

this wasn't proofread so there will be probably be mistakes, i'll try to come back to edit later!

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)