#should i leave the dnf mention in there

[notpom]

#should i leave the dnf mention in there #is it funny #i thought it was funny writing it #i have a bad sense of humor #i should state this is such a not serious fic

[clxja16]

Enough

Part IV

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: Toto Wolff's Daughter Au!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: AHHHHH I think I'm done. well idk, if you guys want more, I could probably write one more. However I don't think anything will top the scene after Charles DNF in the Netherlands. I could literally talk about that scene for hours on end. I need to know what you guys think of that scene, because it's probably some of my best work ever. I hope you guys enjoy though. A lot of time and dedication went into this fic. Also this is in no way a reflection of these people in real life. This is not based on real life events. Nothing in this story is fact. This is a work of fiction, purely for entertainment purposes.

Part I, Part II, Part III

------------------------------------

“I cannot believe you,” Susie says after she hears the front door slam shut from you walking out.  She slightly shakes her head, as she looks to the gods, praying for strength.  The strength to not kill Toto at this moment.  

“Me? You can’t believe me? I cannot believe our daughter, does she even think about how the rushed marriage will look to the public?”  

“Toto,” Susie sighs, “you’ve gone too far.”  She doesn’t know how she can get him to understand that you’re not a little girl anymore.  “She’s chosen Charles, and you have to accept that already.” 

“But she could do so much better…” 

“She doesn’t want better,” Susie raises her voice in disbelief.  “Toto, she doesn’t want anyone else, she wants Charles.  That’s it, that’s the end of the discussion.”  Susie doesn’t know what more to say on the matter.  

“He’s going to hurt her…” 

“Toto, that is enough, just because you had an affair that ended your marriage, does not mean Charles is going to do the same!  Why can’t you see that?”  Susie doesn’t like that she brought up Toto’s affair but it must be said.  “Pack your stuff, you’re leaving for the Netherlands first thing in the morning.”  

“I don’t have to be there for a few more days…” 

“Well, then fucking go to the factory Toto!” Susie can’t handle it anymore, as she stands from the table, “I don’t want to see you, until you apologize to our daughter.  Hopefully before her wedding, so help me God.” 

-

Charles had left, around the same time that you had earlier that night to attend a work dinner.  He returned home after you and when he did, he found you on the bedroom floor surrounded by all the legal paperwork for the wedding.  He could see your eyes were red from crying, and he knew that it wasn’t from happy tears.  You were holding a white out pen and the paperwork to change your name stood out among the bunch.  

“Ma cherie…” 

“Hi,” you greet Charles with a weak tone, you couldn’t even look at him properly. 

“What happened?”  Charles moves the papers out of the way to take a seat next to, pulling your face to look at him.  He can see more tears roll down your cheeks.  

“Daddy asked if I was pregnant…” 

Charles' brows are furrowed together at your statement, “Why would he think that?” 

“Because…” you smile a sarcastic smile, “the only people who get married this fast are people who are knocked up.”  You cry, and laugh at the same time as you recall the evening to Charles.  You take a moment before you pull away from Charles, wiping away your tears.  “I don’t want anything more to do with my father.”  You grab the paper for the name change off the floor, and prepare the white out pen.  

Charles places his hand on yours stopping you from continuing, “maybe you should wait.”  Charles’ watches you carefully, he doesn’t want to say the wrong word, “just sleep on it for now.” 

You look up at Charles, and you can see his worry for you.  He doesn’t want you to make any decisions that you will regret later on.  You stare back at the name you have written across the paper, Wolff-Leclerc.  

-

The next morning you and Charles set out to drive to the Netherlands.  The drive surprisingly doesn’t take as long as you anticipate, time travels fast with Charles.  However when you do arrive at the hotel, you realize how much the drive took out of you.  The two of you pass out, practically right away, and you don’t wake up until the next morning.  By that time, you guys have to be at the paddock.  

You make it a point to showcase that you and Charles are together.  You arrive at the paddock with Charles, dressed in Ferrari red.  Part of you does this to spite your father, the other part of you does this because you want Charles to know you pick him over everything else.  While Charles is in the driver’s briefing with the FIA, you make a stop at the Mercedes motorhome.  

The motorhome is mostly empty, the majority of the team being in the garage at this moment.  However you knew your father would be in his office right now.  He scheduled all his online meetings with the factory at this time, because the motorhome was quiet.  When you make it to his door, you don’t hesitate to knock.  

“Come in,” he says, right away.  You walk in and hand him the letter in your hand.  You don’t say a word to him, you’re trying to make this as clean cut as possible.  He takes the letter from you, “what is this?” He asks as he begins to open it up. 

“My resignation letter, effective immediately.” 

“You’re resigning, what are you planning on doing with your life?” 

“I’m going to let Charles take care of me,” you lied to your father.  You tell him this, purely out of spite.  He always raised you to be able to take care of yourself.  His biggest thing was he never wanted you to rely on someone else.  So you tell him this, just so he can suffer.  You don’t stay to see his reaction, or hear anything more he has to say.  You eventually go on to spend the rest of the weekend avoiding him.  

-

You spend Sunday watching the race in the Ferrari garage.  The beginning of the race was chaotic to say the least.  You knew Charles was making his own calls, when the pit crew is yelling at each other, and no one seems to know what is going on.  You see Fred look at you, like you have an idea of what’s going on.  You’re too amazed that Fred can see this far back into the Ferrari garage, to even give a reaction to his stare.  

As you continue to watch the race, you know Mercedes messed up the strategy.  Especially when George had a good qualifying.  Then you noticed that Charles couldn’t keep up with the Haas, and you concluded that there must be a problem with his car.  When Ferrari does decide to retire him, you see him come out of his car.  You can tell by the look on his face that he’s not happy in the slightest.  He ignores you as he makes his weigh-in and goes straight to the media pen.  You look at Andrea, and you see him shake his head. 

You head to Charles' driver's room, knowing he would go straight there after the media pen.  It doesn’t take much longer, as you hear Charles’ heavy footsteps.  When he enters the room, he doesn’t say anything.  He shuts the door, and takes a deep breath.  Then he launches the water bottle he was holding across the room, the cap comes loose as it hits the wall, water splattering everywhere. 

He takes another deep breath, before saying, “sorry.”  Charles runs his hands over his face, he paces the room as he talks, “I know I fucked up the pit-stop, I didn’t give them enough time to grab the tires, before I came in.”  He doesn’t look at you as he talks, “that was my fault, I know that, but for fuck’s sake, they left me out there to get overtaken by Hulkenburg in a fucking Haas.”  Charles sighs, his shoulders drop, he doesn’t look like himself. He takes a heavy breath, now looking at you and he says, “I’m tired y/n.” Charles sits on the floor, instead of on the bench next to you.  He sits by your feet, leaning against your legs, resting his head in your lap.  He reaches up to hold your hand, and he repeats, “I’m tired.”  His head feels heavy in your lap, you place your hand on his head, playing with the ends of his hair, while your other hand continues to hold his. He looks straight on at the wall.  

“Just rest Charles,” you say, you’re not sure how you can comfort him at this moment.  “You can rest now.”

“Can I really?” He asks, as he looks up at you.  You can see how the season has weighed him down.  You slowly nod your head at him, and he closes his eyes.  You know that he doesn’t actually fall asleep, but the two of you stay like that for the rest of the race. You stay right there, in that same position, for Charles, for until he’s ready to move. 

When the race ends, Charles finally moves, he changes out of his race suit. He heard Pierre got promoted to P3, and insisted on staying to see the podium.  You see him put on a smile for his best friend.  You watch them make plans to celebrate Pierre’s podium after Monza, during the weekend they have off.  You watch Charles pretend he isn’t tired for his friend’s sake.  And you feel your love for him grow.   You love that he can be vulnerable with you, and you love that he will always be proud of those he loves accomplishments.  

-

As soon as the Dutch grand prix was over, you and Charles hopped on a flight to Milan.  The Italian grand prix was a home grand prix for Ferrari, so there were events all week long.  Charles’ schedule was packed through and through.  You don’t bother him with the wedding stuff, you allow him to focus on Ferrari this week.  

Susie comes out to Monza, and she helps you plan for the wedding.  Although it’s a small event, she insists on getting you a dress, maybe not your dream dress, but a nice dress nonetheless.  Charles is at the Ferrari Ray-ban event, while you and Susie are going through Milan, looking at several dress shops.  

You are in one particular shop, trying to pull a few dresses to try on, when you look at Susie and say, “thank you coming Mamma.” 

Susie can see as tears line your eyes, she knows that you and your father being at a cross like this hurts you.  “Of course sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

“I wish Daddy felt the same,” you say somberly, “has he said anything to you after that night.” 

Susie turns to look back at the dresses, “I-”  She pauses for a second, “I haven’t seen your father since that night.” 

“What do you mean, you haven’t seen daddy since that night?” 

Susie sighs, “I told him that I didn’t want to see him until he apologized to you, so I haven’t see him.”  

You can’t help but let out a cackle of a laugh.  You slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself, as Susie looks at you wide-eyed.  “I’m sorry,” you say, as you begin to giggle some more, “I’m sorry, but that-”  You can’t contain your laughter at this point.  You know part of you is laughing to stop yourself from crying, but it feels so good to laugh.  And oh do you laugh, “that is too funny, you kicked daddy out of the house?” 

“Well,” Susie can’t help but to laugh at your reaction, “I had to sweetheart.”  She looks at you fondly, pushing your hair behind your ear, and you stop laughing.  “You didn’t deserve that from him,” she says seriously.  

You feel a few tears fall, “thank you Mamma.”  

Susie shakes her head, “now enough talk of your father, let’s focus on you sweetheart.”  She smiles at you, and you nod your head.  You try to push all thoughts of your father from your mind, focusing on the task at hand.  You and Susie spend the rest of the day shopping.  

-

Being in Italy does good for Charles, you can see it clearly on Saturday.  He qualifies in P3, but it makes him happy.  The fans make him happy.  And even though he didn’t really rest, he isn’t tired.  You watch him fondly from the Ferrari garage as he does the post qualifying interviews.  After he wraps up on Saturday, the two of you are walking back to his car to head back to the hotel.  You can feel the bounce in his step, how light he feels. 

“I love you,” you say, as you look at Charles, as the two of you walk. He stops, and looks at you.  His eyes full of love, as he displays a fond smile.  You take all of him in at this moment.  You can’t help yourself from falling deeper in love with him.  You’ll never love someone like you love him.  

“I love you too,” he says.  To anyone else it’s the same ‘I love you’s you said to each other over and over again, but to you, it’s so much more.   

-

It was another Sunday, another Grand Prix, and your second time watching from the Ferrari garage.  Although there is nothing technically different from the Mercedes garage, it all felt different.  Being at Mercedes it felt like a business, it felt like work. Mercedes was cold, it was calm, it was like a normal nine to five workplace.  While being at Ferrari it feels like passion.  You feel the desperation to be great like they once were.  You understand why Charles remains so loyal.  Being there, in the garage it makes you cheer for Ferrari.  You see them trying, you feel their need to win, and you want them to be great.  It only took two races, but you’re definitely a Ferrari fan.  

As you watched the race, you felt yourself constantly holding your breath.  Carlos was brilliant defending against Max, Checo and even Charles.  He drove to the absolute limit and you were amazed that he held onto the lead for as long as he did.  Charles drove the wheels off his car.  Going for ridiculous moves, and pushing it to the absolute limit every chance he got.  Although you must say, you felt like you were going to have a heart attack watching the last five laps.  Yet, when you saw the smile on Charles’ face after  the race, you think your almost heart attack was worth it.  

Watching them race makes you miss it even more.  Watching them push the car to the limit, to the extreme and hold it all together to bring it home, makes you itch to have that feeling under you.  When Charles makes his way back into the garage, after all of his requirements, he doesn’t waste any time in finding you.  He pulls and holds you close.  You let him, sweaty and all.  You can’t help but to just smile stupidly at him.  Seeing him this happy, makes you happy.  

“I know,” he smiles and drops his head bashfully, “I shouldn’t be this happy about P4, but I had fun.”

“I think you should be proud,” you say, making him look at you, “proud that you gave it your all, and you could give it your all.” 

Charles doesn’t need to say another word, as he pulls you in for a kiss.  

Toto was trying to meet Fred to discuss some things, when he sees yours and Charles' interaction within the Ferrari garage.  He witnesses the private moment, away from the crowds, from the cameras, from everyone else.  He sees you being deeply in love with Charles.  Toto has been watching you all weekend long, and last weekend too.  He knows now how much you love Charles.  He sees it now.  Toto can finally see what everyone else saw.  

“Charles,” Fred calls from across the garage, as he beckons for Charles.  You let him go, as he catches up with Fred.  At this time you notice your father standing there watching you.  

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you, as he steps closer.  

“Hi,” you say. 

Toto doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to make this better, how to fix this.  He knows he messed this all up.  He knows it’s his fault.  He just doesn’t know where to start, when really there’s only one place to start. “I’m sorry.”  

You’re taken aback by your father’s apology.  You never expected him to actually apologize.  You thought that eventually you’d feel guilty enough to make up with your father.  

“I’m sorry, y/n.”  Toto repeats again, “I should have never suggested you were pregnant and that’s why you guys were getting married.  I know now that you really love this boy, and that he really loves you.”  

You smile, as you feel a few tears line your eyes.  This time you are certain they’re happy tears.  “Thank you daddy,” you say, as you hug your father.  And just like all the times when you were a little girl, your father has made all your problems go away.  

“Now,” Toto starts off, and he pulls back from you, “may I please come to your wedding, if it is still this Tuesday?” 

“I hope you do come,” you say genuinely.  

Just outside of the Ferrari garage, Charles and Fred watch you and Toto.  Fred shakes his head at your father for being so stubborn.  While Charles just smiles fondly, because now he sees you genuinely happy. 

-

After all the festivities, you remembered the news that you had to tell Charles.  Charles had just walked out of the bathroom, freshly out of the shower.  Towel in his hand drying his hair.  He sits on the edge of the bed, while you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him.  Pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade.  

“I have something to tell you,” you say softly to Charles. 

“What is ma cherie?” Although you don’t see it, you can hear him smiling.  

“I got a call from Zac Brown,” you say.  Charles doesn’t need to hear more as he turns around to look at you excitedly.  “Apparently, someone has been constantly raving about me to his drivers,” you say knowing exactly who has been raving about you to Lando and Oscar.  “And his drivers keep telling him about it.”  You laugh as you see how excited Charles is to hear your news.  “Zac asked if I wouldn’t mind doing some simulator for Mclaren.” 

“Oh this is great news,” Charles says as he pulls you into a kiss.  

“I know it’s not really back to racing…” 

“But it’s a start.” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “It’s a start.” 

“I’m so happy for you,” Charles says, as he kisses you again.  You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him down.  Charles falls against you, planting more kisses over your face. 

“Thank you Charles.” 

Charles pulls away to look at you, “no need to thank me, I love to brag about my fiancée.” 

-

Today was finally the day.  Although it wasn’t a big or traditional wedding, there were certain things that your parents and Charles’ mom insisted you guys do.  Like how it was bad luck to see each other before the actual wedding.  So you were getting ready in your hotel room, while Charles and his brothers all got ready in another room.  

You tried to tell your parents that this wasn’t going to be a big event, that you would make it up to them and plan an actual wedding, however that all fell on deaf ears.  They fussed and doted on you all morning before going to the courthouse.  You look into the vanity mirror and behind you, you can see Susie and Toto.  In between fussing over you, they make up.  Your father apologizes and he makes amends.  Your mamma forgives and she loves continually.  The pieces of your family begin to slide back into place.  

As you make your way to the courthouse, Toto insists on walking you in.  You smile, allowing your father.  You wrap your arm around his, in front of you is Susie and Jack walks in first.  Just behind the door, there stands Charles.  His brothers by his side, all dressed in matching casual suits.  His mother stands just off to the side of them. You don’t know why but the sight has tears falling from your eyes, happy tears.  

“Ma cherie,” Charles exclaims as he sees you crying.  He comes up to you wiping away your tears with a smile, “no more crying already.” 

You giggle, you know a lot of tears have been shed these past few weeks.  “It’s happy tears, I promise.”  

Charles smiles at you.  At this moment, Toto unwraps your arm from his, and gives your hand to Charles.  He takes your hand, and both you and him look at Toto.  You know what this moment signifies, nothing more needs to be said.  

One thing about courthouse weddings, they are very efficient.  The officiant says what he needs to, you and Charles both say your ‘I do’s, kiss, and they announce you married.  “I now present the two of you married, as Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”  The officiant looks back down at his paper, “or I should say Mr. Leclerc and Mrs. Wolff-Leclerc.”  Your family and Charles’ family cheers at the announcement.  

-

While you and Charles took pictures down by the lake, your families watched on.  During the picture of you with your parents, did Toto whisper to you, “thank you.”  

“For what daddy?” you question, looking up at your father innocently.   

“For being proud to be a Wolff.” 

“I am your daughter,” you say, as you look back at the camera and smile.

------------------------------------

taglist: @christianpulisic10 @lunnnix @honeybunchiesofoats @catswag22 @lazybot @coffeewhore18 @siovhanroy @peachiicherries @pizzalover57 @livingnotthriving@noodleboyluke@mirrorball-6@elijahslover @luciaexcorvus@styles-sunflower @nosebeers @topguncultleader @janeholt3 @perfectmilkshakeruins @coffeewhore18 @ivegotparticulartaste

#formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 au #formula 1 angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #ferrari #f1 #f1 charles leclerc #formula one #f1 fic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc #scuderia ferrari

[pacific-rimbaud]

(this is not to fix or invalidate how you feel at all!!) but my jaw dropped seeing that there were hate threads?? on the dramione reddit i see laoha constantly mentioned in a "what will fill this laoha shaped hole after finishing", "where else can i find platinum tier banter like this" way and not one bad word to say. i'm so sorry to hear there was hate and that it affected you, your writing comes across so confident and well-seasoned but ofc you're human too. keep on rockin pac!! we ADORE you!!

Oh, geez. Fandom-ancient discourse under the cut.

For anyone who's newish, back when laoha was publishing (end of 2019 to end of 2021) it was a thing on Facebook and Reddit to have several threads a week soliciting negative comments about specific fics. It was often phrased as a question like, "Which fic did you DNF and why?" or "What turns you off of a fic?" but sometimes it was more like, "I hated [whatever fic], does anyone else feel the same way?" And then people would proceed to drag the shit out of works and writers. I was by NO MEANS the only person impacted, although I may have had the highest ratio of hate to actual readership. Writers made it super clear that it was hurtful, that they no longer felt able to participate in fandom spaces because of the negativity, entitlement and cruelty, and people would tell them to grow a tougher skin. I mostly stayed out of it at the time, because discourse is always awful and pointless and I'm a pretty small potato in a spectacularly huge fandom. Also, it's the internet, and effective moderation is hard work. Thankfully Reddit made the decision to ban those threads, and hopefully it's become a more welcoming community as a result. Which is really my entire point. There is a human being behind every single fic a reader encounters, whether it's the top-fic-by-kudos masterpiece that nothing will ever equal or a palate cleansing speed read or whatever. Overwhelmingly those people are also readers who often want to engage in the community aspect of fandom. At that time, human beings who wrote for fun in their free time were going . . . this is incredibly hurtful, please stop, and some readers were effectively saying, on a constant basis, fuck you, shut up and give me more 100k+ fic written exactly to my personal tastes. Publishing my wildly uneven first-ever novel-length work with an unpopular Hermione in that climate was not a great experience for me, and it took its toll. Enough time has passed that I've mostly been able to sift through, take what helps me and leave the rest. Like: I will NEVER write miscommunication again! I'm also SO grateful to hear that some communities have chosen to take responsibility for shaping not just the tone but the values of their spaces. It was the right thing to do and too long in coming. Hopefully new DHr writers feel embraced and supported if they choose to engage in fandom social media. It should be fun. I honestly don't know what any of us are doing here if it's not.

That is not what you asked for, anon, but there you have it: ancient discourse that I hope has become irrelevant. I'm so glad to hear people are being kind!

#you asked I answered #rant #fandom drama #DHr discourse

[leclerced]

Do u know what would be Hilarious?

If Charles changed lanes for Horners daughter

honestly… i think you’re onto something?

Lets say Checo plans to retire after 2024, it hasn’t been announced but she hears from her dad that they’re going to bump Daniel back into the seat if he performs consistently through the end of next season. She asks if they had anyone else in mind and he mentions Charles, who she’d been secretly seeing for the past year. He immediately laughs it off and says he knows Charles would never leave his dream team so they weren’t even going to approach him. She really shouldn’t tell charles about it. She shouldn’t even know about it from her father, but Charles has a shit race where he started on pole and his hydraulics went out, so after he takes his frustrations out on her, she asks him it he would ever change teams. He says he doesn’t think anyone else would want him, with how badly he’s been performing.

She suddenly gets more serious and tells him he’s one of the best drivers out there, it’s just Ferrari who has a shit car. Then she giggles and asks “Would you ever join Redbull? I know we’re kinda rivals but it would be kinda cute wouldn’t it?”

Charles would laugh her off, tell her Christian would never make him an offer when he already has Daniel on the back burner ready to swap out for Checo when he underperforms. She teases that if he had a car like Max did, maybe he’d have a shot at the championship he so deserved. He says it would be nice, but when she doesn’t reply, he assumes she’s just talking nonsense in her post orgasm haze.

A few days later, she tells her father that he should have a chat with Charles. She won’t tell him why she was pushing so hard for it, but hints that him and Max would make great teammates because they push each other so much already and have both said they’d like to be in equal machinery, and everyone knew Max would never leave Redbull. Plus, his contract is running up at the end of the next season, so it wouldn’t hurt.

It happens after the last race of the season where Charles nearly swiped the final win from Max except he’d been on a one stop strategy while Max was on two and overtook him at the end when Charles’s tires went out. She’d been lounging in his hotel room for an hour wondering what was taking him so long when he suddenly comes in with red cheeks. “What did you tell your father? He just- he just unofficially offered me a seat in 2025.”

She grinned, “He did? I promise you it’s not because of me. He told me- well I can’t say everything but he said he had you in mind but didn’t think you would leave Ferrari. I reminded him your contract ended next year and hadn’t been renewed yet, so talking wouldn’t hurt.”

Charles would think about it for months, until halfway through the next season and Max was dominating the field and he’d had three DNF’s because the car was a lump of junk. They announced Checo’s retirement and he was approached with a contract a week later. He signed the contract, and before Ferrari came to renew his, he told them he’d signed to Redbull. It was a huge scandal, no one thought he would ever leave them. They never thought he would leave them. Sebastian would be the first person he’d tell, before it was even officially announced, he would call him up right after telling the Ferrari team, before he’d even made it out to his car. Sebastian would be ecstatic and rave about his glory days at Redbull, how he knew Charles would be a great fit.

Max wouldn’t even be mad when Charles steals the 2025 world championship before he can take his fifth consecutive, he’s happy that his best friend has finally been given the opportunity to prove himself. They’d somehow made it more than halfway through a season with them working together without getting caught, but he’d pull off his helmet and run straight to her and kiss her in front of the whole world. That’s how everyone finds out that he’s dating Christian’s daughter, when he practically lifts her over the railing as he kisses her before hugging the team.

#charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 blurb #cl16 #my writing #blurbs #ask #anon

[awkwardtickleetoo]

The Very Squirmy Superstar

2 fics back to back holy shit that's pretty awesome isn't it

this is a sequel to this fic with ler!freddy and lee!dream, only this time it's george's turn instead!!

and, in case anyone was curious, I have a couple (2 or 3, most likely) more dnf + fnaf fics planned for the (hopefully near) future, so if anyone likes this one and is interested in that kinda thing keep an eye out for it!! and if anyone has any ideas that I maybe haven't figured out my inbox is always open to talk about/suggest that stuff :)

but either way, let's get on with the fic

lee!george, ler!freddy (he's back!!), 4k words exactly :o

enjoy!

--

"Wait, what?!" George shouted after Freddy as he ran away, not turning around to pay him any mind. George leaned forward to let his eyes follow the bear, pushing his legs out straight in front of him, careful not to disturb Dream's head where he was still laying on his lap. "That's not fair, you can't do that! Freddy?! Come back and say you were joking! FREDDY!" George continued to yell until he no longer heard the metallic clanging of footsteps in his ear, meaning Freddy was almost certainly too far away to hear him anymore. George sighed and let his shoulders fall back until they hit the wall behind him again, looking down at Dream. "This is ridiculous, there's no way, right?"

The younger boy slowly sat up, running his fingers through his hair and looking at George as well.

"Hm?" He hummed, requesting confirmation, as he gently rested his temple on George's shoulder and pulled George's hand back into his grip. He fidgeted with George's fingers, pulling one knee up to his chest and leaving his other leg that was closer to George laying straight out next to his as well. He chuckled at the difference in where his leg ended compared to George's, then chuckled again when he looked down at their fingers and did the same thing, before curling George's fingers into a fist and cupping both his hands around it. "There's no way what?"

"Like…" George started, biting his bottom lip when he felt butterflies in his stomach, suddenly very aware of what exactly Freddy had threatened. "Like there's– like, he's not serious, right? He's not… he's not gonna actually… do it, is he?" He explained, looking over at Dream, pushing through the nerves in his chest. He mirrored Dream's position, pulling his outer leg up to his chest and tossing his inner leg's ankle over Dream's shin, watching him smile at the action. George tapped his foot on the ground as he waited for Dream's response.

"I mean… why wouldn't he?" Dream said with a chuckle, the residual flush on his cheeks still present around where his smile created lines on his soft face. "If he did it to me, I don't see why he wouldn't do it to you too?"

"Okay, well, he had a reason to do it to you!"

"He has a reason to do it to you too, George," Dream explained softly, pressing his palms tighter to George's fist to try to crack his knuckles.

"No he does not! What the hell do you mean?!"

"You were being a dick, to be fair." Dream took George's other hand, curling his fingers into a fist and pressing on his knuckles to crack them again.

"I was NOT being a dick, you were being a dick!"

"WH- literally how!?"

"You were so scared of Freddy even though he's been nothing but nice–"

"I am sorry to interrupt," a sudden, reverberating voice broke both of the boys from their argument, making them both stop short and look up at the large, animated bear standing in front of them again. He was holding two bottles of water, reaching down to hand one to Dream, who gladly took it from him. He took a few steps to the left of all of them, placing the second one on top of a charging station to be brought back around later. "They are fresh from the cases in Customer Service, so they should be clean and refreshing. Good for little kids– or big kids!– after a round of fun like that, right, Dream?"

Dream smiled bashfully at the mention of the activities that had occurred barely six minutes prior, pulling the water bottle close to his body as he hunched over to turn and hide his face in George's shoulder. George chuckled at his reaction, reaching over to pat Dream's head as he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Speaking of that round of fun, however…" Freddy began, kneeling in front of George and resting one hand on his knee that was still flat out. "I think it's your turn, isn't it, superstar?"

George's eyes widened as he looked over at Freddy, his round, unblinking eyes staring back into his for so long that he started to understand why Dream must've been so terrified to look at him at the start. He felt his heart practically skip a beat, and felt the blood rush to his face and make his cheeks start turning pink. If he was going to get out of this, he needed to do it now.

"Oh…" George said dumbly, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with a plan sooner. "Is, uh– is that really necessary? I-I feel like we have a lot left to explore, I don't know if–"

"Do not worry, George, we have all the time in the world to explore the wonders of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex! And you two are lucky, because you just so happen to have Freddy Fazbear as your guide for your adventure," Freddy explained, a hint of pride in his robotic voice. George smiled, thinking his plan was working.

"That's perfect! Why don't we continue on the adventure, th–" George attempted to stand up, but was stopped when Freddy's hand moved up from his knee to hold down on his thigh, and his other hand moved to press George's shoulder back against the wall. There was no force behind the push, as Freddy openly didn't intend to hurt either of the other two, but there was enough strength in Freddy's metal fingers for George to know he wasn't going anywhere, any time soon, if Freddy didn't want him to.

This realization alone was almost enough to make the nervous giggles fizzle out of his mouth.

Somehow, he held strong.

"Right after… we resolve this situation. Does that sound okay?" Freddy explained, tilting his head slightly as he finished with a reassuring tone, wanting to make sure George was aware he wasn't being forced to do something he didn't want to do.

"There's-! There's no situation to resolve!" George fought back, attempting to pull his arms in to cross them in front of his chest but realizing Dream had reached for his hand again.

"There is. The situation is finding whether or not you are ticklish as well."

"I am not!" George responded immediately, without thinking about what he was saying.

"George… do not forget what you said earlier. You told me you would never lie about this, didn't you?" George's eyes widened, the memory of saying exactly that coming back to him like a boomerang. He nodded slowly, and Freddy continued. "You did. And you have already seen what would happen if someone were to lie about that, right? Dream is your example."

"You don't have to keep saying it!" Dream whined, closing his eyes and tilting his head back against the wall behind him. George couldn't help but chuckle at his whine, however he was instantly brought back to reality when Freddy moved his hand off his leg.

"So. Are you ticklish, George?"

George's brain nearly flipped upside down at the question, his body instinctively squirming as he looked away and whined quietly at the question.

"Thahat's not– that's not fair, you can't just ask that!"

"Dream," Freddy said instead, turning his attention to the man beside George just as Dream looked back at him too. "Is George ticklish?"

"Dream, don't!" George cut in immediately, making Dream's eyes flickered over to his as they widened, unsure of what to do.

"Do not lie, Dream," Freddy cut back in as well, and Dream's eyes, once again, jumped to Freddy's, even wider this time. He paused, debating his options, before a small smile graced his features.

"Yes, he is. Ridiculously so."

"DREAM?!"

"Excellent! Way to go, superstar!" Freddy praised, making Dream bite back a smile as he looked down at his hand in George's, bashful once again. "Now, George…" Freddy's voice stayed firm, repeating his earlier question. "Are you ticklish?"

George stuttered for a few seconds, before soon accepting that there was no point in denying anymore. He knew this would only end one way, and at this point the butterflies in his tummy were too strong and wild for him to want anything else. All he could do now was make it easier on himself.

"I-I… fine, yes…" He mumbled, squeezing Dream's fingers so he'd stop fidgeting for the time being.

"Good. And is it okay if I tickle you?"

"Oh my god…" George just about whimpered out, followed by a long whine as he pulled both his legs up to his chest, dropped his head in his knees, and wrapped his free arm around them. "Y-yeah, that… that would be alright," he mumbled, squeezing Dream's hand a little tighter.

"Wonderful news, superstar! I promise to go easy on you."

"Kill me now," George whined again, voice muffled by the arm he'd pulled up closer to his face to block his blush more. Dream giggled at that, making George whine louder, and he brought George's knuckles up to his lips to place a gentle kiss to the back of them.

"You'll be okay, Georgie. It wasn't anything you couldn't handle," Dream explained, dropping George's hand to worm his arm in between George's torso and his knees, pulling on one of his legs to get him to uncurl himself and come out of hiding.

"That is true, I can promise there is no way I'll go over your limit. There are ways I can sense certain things about you, such as your heart rate and the temperature of your skin, to ensure that nothing will be unsafe for you. You'll be in good hands, you have my word," Freddy explained, placing his hand on George's knee once more and rubbing his cool thumb across it soothingly.

"Really?" George asked, looking up at Freddy as he did, in fact, uncurl himself slightly. Freddy made a noise of confirmation, smiling as George nodded in response. "Okay. That's pretty cool, to be honest. Knowing that helps a lot."

"I am glad. I think we can begin now! Dream, why don't you hold George for his turn, it might be helpful for both of you."

"What?! No! That's not fair! Dream, do not– DREAM-!" George's protests were cut off when he felt an arm behind his back and one under his knees, lifting him quite unceremoniously. Both belonged to Dream, who was ready in almost an instant to pull George perpendicular onto his lap and grab both his wrists with one hand, holding them in front of his chest. The other hand stayed on George's back, keeping him steady even as he began squirming, despite him quickly realizing it was no use. "Dream, stop it! Let go– NO!" George yelped, his back stiffening as he felt two large, metal hands holding either side of his ribcage. He pulled at his wrists, hoping they would budge even a little bit, but his attempts were cut off by sudden tensing and squirming when the thumbs and forefingers of said metal hands suddenly started drilling circles into the bottom and sides of his ribs.

"NOHO-!" George's back arched immediately, his knees drawing up again slightly, but this time he simply stomped his feet on the patterned carpet and slid the heels of his sneakers against it as he shook his head and twisted his body as much as he could manage. "Plehehehease!" He begged, pushing forward and back and to either side to no avail in an attempt to somehow dislodge the fingers digging into the most sensitive parts of his ribs.

"My goodness, George, you are very squirmy!" Freddy pointed out, making George scrunch up his nose in discontent and shake his head wildly.

"Shuhuhut uhuhup!" Any attempt George could've made to keep his laughter at bay was completely useless, his giggles spilling out in new waves with every single circle and movement of Freddy's hands. His continuous giggles then turned into squeals, genuine laughter, and full body squirming when Freddy's fingers pushed back just enough to press all his fingers into the backs of George's ribs and vibrate them against the bones. "NOHOHO, oh my GOHOHOD– PLEHEASE NOT THIHIHIS, PLEHEHEASE!"

"Uh, yeah, that's a bit of a bad spot for him," Dream explained softly to Freddy, leaning in slightly so he could be heard over George's frantic laughter. "I'm not really sure how long you should stay there."

"Hm, yes, I can tell. His heart rate skyrocketed as soon as I pressed in," Freddy explained, pulling his fingers off the back of George's ribcage and gently holding his sides to keep him balanced. George took in as many gulps of air as he could manage, his eyes slipping closed as he let his head roll back in exhaustion.

"Thahahat– thahat was nohot… goihing easy on mehehehe…" George complained, tugging at his wrists in Dream's hand and tapping his feet against the floor even more.

"I apologize, George. You handled that part very well. However, my sensors tell me you can endure a bit more," Freddy explained, not giving George any time to react before scratching his fingers at George's stomach. George's back arched at the sensation, and he sucked in his tummy and held in his laughter for barely a second to try to deter the animatronic from that spot, but all hope was lost when Freddy brought his other hand into the mix, skittering his metallic fingers all over his tummy and sides in random bursts.

"Oh myhy Gohohohod! S-stohohop! I caha– stohop ihihihit, plehehease!" George's pleads were ignored, and his squirming and whining only increased when he gets Dream's palm gently rubbing circles on the middle of his back, in an attempt– that was, unfortunately, working– to soothe George's nerves as much as he could. "Dreheheam, stohop– Freheddyhyhy! Stohohop!" George took in a sharp breath right as Freddy's thumb swiped underneath his belly button, the action catching the edge of his t-shirt and letting the cold metal slide along his bare skin. George squealed, jumping away from the touch, but Freddy simply swiped his thumb a few more times, chuckling when George squealed once again when he caught the bottom edge of his belly button. "NOHO, okahahay!"

"Okay?" Dream questioned, furrowing his eyebrows at George as he waited for further explanation.

"Okahay! Mohohove somewhere ehe–ELSE, N-AHA!" George yelped, his entire torso arching and flinching as Freddy delivered a single quick pinch to the space right above his hipbones before pulling his hands away to give George a breather.

"You're doing extremely well, superstar. You're lasting longer than I expected."

George whined, crossing his arms over his chest and holding onto his own biceps the second Dream let go of his wrists. Dream, instead, wrapped his arms around George's waist and pulled him closer, cuddling into his side where he still remained sideways on his lap.

George would never admit how much he melted into it.

"Now… why don't we out how you react down here, okay, Mr. Twinkle Toes?" Freddy teased with another echoey chuckle, gently poking fun at George for the way he'd been tapping his feet against the floor, in comparison to Dream's kicking from earlier. He shifted backwards a few inches, grabbing the underside of George's right leg and gently guiding him to let it be held up, outstretched, leaving enough spots exposed and vulnerable that George began squirming again almost instantly.

"No, nonono, whahat are you doihihing?" George protested, curling his toes inside his shoes and attempting to wiggle his leg out from Freddy's hold. It was useless, however, as Freddy's large, metal hands were almost bulky enough to wrap entirely around the middle of his calf, and the grip was so strong that his arm barely moved a few centimeters even with George's wild squirming. George knew, without a doubt, that he was screwed.

"It seems like someone is getting nervous. Dream, are there bad spots on George's legs that I should know about?" Freddy asked, glancing between the two boys as Dream smiled and George's eyes widened.

"No! No, Dream, please, I'm serious, please don't say anything, please!" George begged, reaching one hand over to rest on Dream's shoulder and the other to hold onto one of his arms around his waist.

"Uh…" Dream paused, conflicted on who to listen to again, but Freddy placed a hand on his other shoulder and spoke again.

"Dream, you don't have to worry. He knows I can tell when he's taken too much, and you know firsthand that I will stop accordingly the second I sense he's reached that point. He will be fine."

"But I– that doesn't–" George stuttered, his face heating up and turning even more red than he thought it could ever get. "Ugh, Dreeeeammm…" George let out a long whine of Dream's name, tilting his head and partially hiding his face against Dream's shoulder, the position too awkward and strained to do much more.

"Behind his knees are pretty bad, and above the knees are even worse than he said I was. Oh, and his thighs are an absolute death spot, you can't stay there too long either. That might have to be your finale, if you've already gotten his ribs."

"Dream, when we get out of here, I'm gonna get you back and wreck you so ha–"

"Perfect! Thank you, Dream, you're so helpful!" Freddy cut off George's empty threat with a compliment to Dream, then suddenly squeezed right above George's knees with the hand that wasn't holding his leg in place.

"NOHO– ohoh gohohod!" George squealed, jolting up from Dream's shoulder and hunching forward. He curled his hands into fists, pinning his elbows to his sides and shaking his fists slightly in the air– something he often did when he wasn't sure how else to expel the ticklish energy coursing through his veins. His leg flinched against Freddy's hold with every touch, giggles and squeaks falling from his lips no matter how hard he tried to bite them back or protest through them.

"Hm, it does seem that this might be more of a sensitive spot on you than on Dream… but I wonder if back here will get you to giggle as much as he did?" Freddy said as he slid his hand around to flutter over the back of George's knee instead.

George squealed, loud and unfiltered, and he was pretty sure it could have transformed into a scream if he hadn't broken off into high pitched, equally loud, doubly embarrassing laughter immediately after, tossing his head back and letting his jaw go completely slack as he smiled so wide his cheeks began to hurt. He flinched and kicked his leg out straight, then tried to bend his knee to hide the spot as best as he could, but it was useless.

"Nahahaha!" He protested through his sunny laughter, scrunching his nose up at the humiliating pitch it was at and covering his mouth with one hand. He tried to keep in as much as he could, letting out muffled giggles now as he scrunched his entire body and squirmed like his life depended on it.

"Oh, c'mon, George. Don't do that," Dream complained, curling up closer to George and gently guiding his hand away from his mouth. George shook his head, looking away from both of them, but Dream straightened his back to lean up and place a soft kiss on George's temple. George nearly melted again, whining between laughs, letting his hands be guided away until they were in shaky fists by his chest again.

"THIHIHIS– thihis ihisn't fahahahair!"

"Hm… you're right, we have been going for a minute or so longer than we went with Dream, perhaps that's not fair. I can sense you're getting tired."

"Yehehehes! It's nohohot! So stohop ihihit!" George complained, wincing at how whiny he sounded, but he didn't have much time to think about his tone when Freddy quickly switched to squeezing and scratching at his inner thighs. "NOHOHO! OH GOHOHOD– NAHAHA, PLEHEHEASE!" George practically screamed out his protests, his voice starting to become raspy from the force of his laughter.

"Oh, my… I see what you were saying about this being a… 'death spot', I believe you called it? This is quite a find."

"SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!?" George yelled, face flushing even more red than it was and only getting worse as his breathing became even more labored through his torture. He pulled in a sharp breath, immediately pushing it back out in the form of a new wave of frantic laughter ripping from his throat, and he jumped forward to grab onto Freddy's arm, one hand pulling at his wrists and the other wrapped around his wide, blocky, metal fingers to try and pry them away from his thigh. He begged and pleaded, each word being cut off by a new laugh as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "PLEHE– FREHEHE– COME ON, PLEHEHEASE– I CAHAHAHA–!"

"Okay, I believe this is a sufficient ending. I can see you're nearly beyond your limit, so we're done," Freddy explained, gently patting George's leg a few times before placing it down next to his other one and letting him go entirely. George immediately curled his knees up towards his body with a whimper, then curled his arms around his torso, and turned slightly to hide his face in Dream's shoulder once again. Freddy and Dream both chuckled at his overdramatic recovery, but they both found ways to comfort him nonetheless– Dream's fingers scratching the back of his head and holding one of his hands, and Freddy rubbing his back and patting his knee to help his breathing return to normal. "You did such a good job. You're a real superstar, George, I mean that."

"Shuhuhut… shut up…" George mumbled against Dream's shoulder, squeezing his fingers where their hands were linked in response to Dream chuckling at him. "You too, idiot. Don't think I'm, like… ever, ever gonna forget this. Okay? I'm gonna destroy you when we find a way home."

"I'm looking forward to it, Georgie," Dream responded, his tone more fond than ever, and both men giggled at the idea for a few seconds.

Freddy stood up and walked over to the charging station on the wall near them, grabbing the second water bottle he had brought back with him. He cracked the lid open delicately with two fingers as he walked back over and handed it to George. Then, all three of them noticed a blinking red light on the screen of the charging pod.

"Oh… I apologize, but it appears I'm about to enter power saving mode, so it's time for me to rest in one of these charging pods for quite a while. Will you two be okay without me for the time being? I will come find you as soon as my battery level is full again."

"We'll be okay," George reassured with a nod. "Well…. I will be. Not sure about Dream, he's still a big baby scaredy cat, aren't you, Dream?"

"Normally I'd call you an idiot, but you're not even wrong about this one. But we'll be okay, we promise," Dream agreed, both of them looking over at Freddy with honest smiles.

"Wonderful. Once you're both ready, the best place to go next would probably be the daycare center on the ground floor. I will meet you outside the door when my battery is charged." And with that explanation, Freddy turned away from them and entered the charging pod, and Dream and George watched as the lights flickered to life and the whirring sound of a power surge rang through the machine.

In all honesty… Dream was immediately terrified again.

But, alas, he pushed through, and the two finished their waters and headed towards the long staircase down to the ground floor where the daycare was located, unsure of what adventures and explorations the area may hold for them.

#lee!george #ler!freddy #fnaf x dnf #cals writing

[core4writes]

Hotel Room // dnf

a/n: dnf fic = the cure for everything

also this fic was inspired by this song hotel-montell fish (this song is just soooo secy to me oml 😩😫😫) anyway i feel like dnf today so lets go!!

trigger warning: light smut, cursing, mentions of cheating

dream x georgenotfound

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

when i met you in that hotel room

fuck when is dream coming? was all that george was thinking in his mind, this was the first time george was going to have an affair let alone do it with a man. george was sitting on the hotel bed bouncing his leg up and down, nerves shocking through him every second. "i should have never came." george grabs his work bag, tights up his tie and grabs his car keys to leave. as approaching the door to leave a knock on the door echo's, george looks through the rusty peep hole to see who it is.

it's dream, george opens the door. "what took you so long?" george ask as dream walks in to put his stuff down "my wife kept asking quetions, i just told her im doing an extra shift." dream chuckles.  

i could tell that you were so bad news

dream and george, siting next together in the bed. "why did you agree to this?" dream breaks the long silence, looking over at george who dares not to hold eye contact. "why not." his voice slips out, dream takes a second to think.

"but this is so outta character for you, your always the "good" boy who goes to work on time and never calls a day off, your the "good" boy that loves his wife. so why are you here? am i an bad influence on you or something?" dream smirks knowing that george was gonna break anytime soon, "maybe are are a bad influence, but you make me feel things."

but i keep messing with ya, messing with ya

george looks back at dream, just to see that dream is already looking. "what type of things?" dream puts his veiny hand on george's thigh, "you know." george face gets all red "stop, that." george removed dream's hand off his thigh and stands up in front of dream, "what? y'know i love seeing you get all hot and bothered." dream stands up in front of george, looking down at him.

and now your messing with me, messing with me

the long intense stare they were giving each other right now, you couldn't tell if they wanted to kill each other or fuck each other. "well show me." george licked his lips "what?" dream furrowed his eyebrows, "show me how much you love seeing me all hot and bothered." george pulls dream in by the tie and pulls him into a kiss.

george lips were warm and soft. as dream we're soft and rough, george parted his lips a bit allowing dream's tongue to slip inside.

their tongues tangled and went to war in their locked mouths, battling madly for dominance.

dream pushed george on top of the bed getting on top, their bodies pressed together heatedly against the wall, breathing heavily as their lips pressed together. dream could taste their shared breath, as they fumbled to take off one another’s clothes. sparks felt like they were flying in the air every time they kissed.

all of the sudden dream gets a call on his cell phone, its his wife. dream picks it up and gets up off the bed to talk to her, george sits on the bed waiting patiently for something to happen.

dream gets off the phone with his wife, "i gotta go." dream rushes to get his clothes on. george looks around confuse "wait why?" dream chuckles as he buttons his pants "the wife needs me." he re-ties his tie and grabs his suitcase "until next time." and just like that dream leaves, and he leaves george all hot and bothered.

"until next time." george says with a sigh

#fanfic #imagines #writing #scenarios #oneshots #dnf au #georgenotfound #georgenotfound smut #dream smut #dream smp #dreamwastaken smut #dreamnotfound #dreamnotfound smut #fiction #sapnap smut #colby brock #colby brock x reader #core 4 #sam and colby #wattpad #smut #katrina stuart #sapnap x reader au

[thetwelfthcrow]

I watched the race replay and everything around it at lunch time because I'm in Belgium and didn't bother to get up at seven. (Lol)

Max winning, sure, but Lando dnf and Lewis losing so much time because he was unlucky (but he finished above George, because of Max, we should acknowledge) leaves me still hating this weekend. Although I laughed at Max's mood shift at the end. But ngl, I liked the juiciness. On media day on the couch, someone asked Sharl what an ideal teammate looks like and he turned and said "hihihi hello Lewis hihi", I mean combined with the Sainz and Checo clips I really wonder what the fuck was in the air at that race. Not to mention and definitely no wonder that Max put a ring on it lol.

Abu Dhabi has to give us something now, but if not, maybe the FIA ceremony? Unless Lewis manages not to attend again. The thought of seeing them together outside of their racing suits (speaking of which, what the fuck was it that Max and Checo were wearing?) excites me so much!

wat ongelooflijk lui van je

'max winning, sure' ??? no babe he fought for that. he was p1 by turn 1 but then he fell back due to the penalty. he worked his way Through! and yeah lando's dnf had me severly worried and sad :/ lewis losing soo much time bc he was unlucky and bc merc hates him also infuriates me. lewis finishing above george due to george's poor racing judgement in regards to max is poetic cinema to me. this is max's teamwork to lewis fr.

max's mood shift from i hate vegas let me out of here to vivaa las vegas my absolute bestie! is incredible

something gay was in the air certainly! lewis had Things to him. he was whoring his way through and everyone was either a victim of heatstroke or silliness. max was the most sane one and put that ring on him indeed !! slay

abu dhabi. the final race. finally. fia ceremony too. hope to see the boys bein gay n hot together! i am excited as well! thanks for stoppin by babe!

(the vegas-elvis suits were...a choice. red bull has done better silly suits than these but ok i like that they did something).

#Anonymous #zhalia’s lil’ chit chat #4433 #las vegas gp 2023

[wimbledonsoot]

[the fall] - a tale of two blood gods (ep.3)

following the butcher incident, you try to go about your day as per usual. but when dream - accompanied by an entourage of vigilantes you've up until recently known as your enemies - comes knocking at your door, you've got little choice but to follow.

trigger warnings for this chapter: pretty much the same as for last chapter, aka mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, dnf is mentioned heavily, karlnapity is sort of implied, you are a cocky shit, the blood god is a cocky shit, you get to know said blood god better and you bond over being cocky shits, swearing, EXTREME ENEMIES TO FRIENDS moments over here, the slow burn is beginning to simmer i sense, the SBI are cocky shits haha too, everyone's cocky shits, you're suffering because everyone's cocky shits, TECHNOBLADE SAYS DARLIN' I REPEAT TECHNOBLADE SAYS DARLIN', mentions of suicide in a humorous way, checking out people, BUTTERFLIESSSSS, unhinged attitude towards many things, LOTS OF SWEARING, SO MUCH SWEARING, I AM MY FATHER'S CHILD

word count: 3.7k, this is a long one guys, had to split it up lmaoooo

When you wake up that morning, you think that maybe you should have stayed at home. Lying to Techno isn't something that you enjoy doing, not at all, and it's an issue that - in order to keep your identity some resemblance of a secret - what happened is a secret you have to keep.

So you'll have to stick with the narrative of a robbery.

As you rub the sleep from your eyes, clicking the lamp beside you on, you notice that the sun has risen already, and is high into the sky. You check your watch. Thank god it's Saturday. You flop backwards into the bed. Why wake up just yet?

Your attempts to get some more sleep in are rudely interrupted by a raccoon in the form of a child named Tommy barging into you room, kicking the door open with his foot, and yelling - at the top of his lungs, you might add - that "BREAKFAST IS READY" and that you should "GODDAMN WAKE UP!"

You flash him the finger before he leaves, as is fair, of course.

But alas, you are awake, because in his rage, Tommy pulled open the curtains, and sun is spilling into the room, colouring the deep blue sheets a much more vibrant shade. Birds chirp outside. The quiet sounds of a sleepy Saturday morning fill the air, and for a moment, you let yourself sink back into the matress.

Until Tommy screams again.

You swear, you'll throttle that child one day.

Lazily, you tug yourself out of bed, looking down at what pyjamas you pulled yourself into and deeming them acceptable. As you stretch your arms, Tommy lets out yet another bellow, which is followed by an equally loud 'Will you shut up!?' from Wilbur.

You quickly hurry down after that, not wanting the two to end up teaming up on you.

You still remember the bruises from the pillows... what a dark memory that is.

Sitting down at the table is Techno. His long pink hair is mussed up, and the bags under his eyes are large. The cup of coffee sitting in his hand is surely not his first, and he has his feet propped up onto the table, a book in sitting in his lap. He looks like he's been awake not much longer than you, considering he's still in his pyjamas.

You swallow. Goddamnit, you really need to get a handle on your crush.

Tearing your eyes away from the very pretty sight of morning-blade, you grin at Phil, who's already got a bowl of cereal waiting on the table for you. He smiles fondly (Phil's always thought of you like another child - he tends to do that with all of his kids' friends, Tubbo included), but watches you as you sit down.

"Uh... Techno told me something happened yesterday," the man starts, and you wince.

"Nothing bad," you say, "Just got mugged. I was a bit shaken up and didn't feel super safe at home so..."

"What'd the robber take?" Phil asks, and you must be overthinking this because it feels like he knows something. But he can't. Right?

"Just some money, I didn't have much on me," you lie, taking a bite of the cereal to maybe try and seem less suspicious. Phil raises an eyebrow, "Why were you even out that late? I thought work ended at six for you?"

"I had a longer evening than usual; last customer stayed longer and I was alone cleaning up," they still think you work at a cafe out of town, and for all intents and purposes you do, because your employment record says so, and so does Eryn, who runs the place. Eryn who practically worships Dream (Sapnap swears he saw a shrine to him once - no one believes him but still). And Eryn who's not really on the side of good but not really on the side of evil.

So someone you can't one hundred percent trust.

Worry pools in your gut.

But Phil, being Phil, only smiles tiredly and nods. "Oh god, I understand. Well, I'm glad you came to us for help," he ruffles your hair and you smile, tension flooding away, "You know you always can."

You nod, "Thanks Phil."

He smiles again, and then turns to tell Tommy off for trying to reach the very top of the cupboards. You go back to eating your cereal, only to have Techno cough quite loudly to try and get your attention.

"Yeah?" You ask.

"You seemed shaken up last night."

"I'm fine," you say, then add: "Really."

Techno eyes you warily but gives up, saying: "I've done some more work on the project, if you're wonderin'. Just a bit here and there."

"Let me guess, it's ninety percent finished."

He blushes; you know him to well, "Yeah. Sorry."

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. "No problem. Just don't overwork yourself."

"Me? Never!"

Laughing, you lean back in the chair. You want to ask what book he's reading, but Wilbur ruins the moment by leaning over to Tommy and whispering, audibly enough for you to hear it: "They're flirting again."

Techno throws his book at them. You focus on your cereal.

---

Hours later, you're back at home, rifling through your home to see if The Butcher has taken anything or placed any mics. The last thing you need is for your suspicions to be confirmed.

The first thing you need, you realise, staring at your fridge, is a trip to the grocery store.

It's utterly empty, save for the piece of paper sitting on centre-stage. On it is written: Eryn told me where you live, sorry.

And at that moment, a knock sounds at your door, and you freeze.

Glancing at the paper, you realise that this is 100% Dream's doing. Which means you need to find something to cover your face. Another knock sounds, and you frantically yell: "I need a minute!" as you scramble around the room, trying to find your mask. Finally, you find it and tug it over your face.

What faces you when you open the door makes you want to throw something out a window.

Standing on your front porch, decked out fully in gear, are Dream and the Syndicate.

What did you say about throwing something out the window? That something is now yourself.

"What the fuck?" You ask, because that's the only thing you're able to say.

From the side, Apollon pipes up, "Exactly what I was going to say, but big guy over here told me not to." His voice sounds familiar in a weird way, and you frown.

"We're not here to chat," says the Blood God, and Phantom smirks, stepping forward, his voice smooth as silk as he says: "Or, perhaps we are. Depends on whether or not you're going to helpful."

"Okay no, fuck no, Dream, explain please?" You focus on the only person you recognise, and the person whose causing this. He looks kind of guilty, or at least his posture does (as his face is covered by the smiley mask that he's so famous for) and he should fucking look guilty, because he's fucking showed the fucking syndicate where you fucking live!

But instead of allowing Dream to speak, Apollon pipes up again: "We need help with The Butcher."

Oh.

That explains it.

Kind of.

"I... what?" You say, still slightly confused.

"We heard he attacked you yesterday," says Dream, "Or rather I did, and I figured we needed to get a handle on things. So I decided to come here, I stumbled upon our um... friends... and then brought them with me."

You shake your head, "You brought highly dangerous vigilantes, who we have fought on numerous fucking occasions, to my fucking house?!"

"Yeah."

"No, Dream, I'm sorry but what in the world were you goddamn thinking?!"

"He probably wasn't," Phantom says.

You've got to agree with him.

You ball your hands into fists and then look around. "Fine. I don't need you standing on my front porch and I don't need the neighbours to see you, even if they probably already have." You motion for them to follow you. "And I need Eryn to get a fucking grip on his obsession with you. It's dangerous that he's telling someone where I live."

"Look, I'm sorry," Dream says, but you cut him off.

"No. Don't fucking... no," you motion to the vigilantes, "I don't fucking want your excuses, and for god's sake if any of you fuckers come and kill me in my sleep or something because you know where I live, I will personally haunt each and every one of you."

You glare at them, then say you need to change into your hero clothes and leave.

---

Techno doesn't know how it's gotten to this point.

You're a hero.

And not only that, you're the hero that popped up during that fight (that hero that he threatened to kill) and you're friends with Dream of all people. He doesn't want to think about the fact that you've been keeping this secret from him but he doesn't want to think about the fact that he's been keeping this secret from you.

Fuck, this is bad.

He's silently decided that he can't have you knowing that he knows that you're... well... you. Because then he'll have to explain that he's the Blood God (that he's a monster) and that basically everything you know about him is a lie. That he's not just some nice, albeit a bit short tempered, (slight) nerd that you met in the library, that he's actually a raging fucking psychopath with goddamn voices unrelentingly telling him to kill.

Phil places a hand on his shoulder, obviously sensing that he's stressed, and Techno wants to tell him to stop, because he's panicking, if ever so slightly, and his head hurts.

"You good mate?" Wil asks. Techno wants to say no, because he isn't.

But it's fineeeeee.

So he doesn't.

"Yep, totally fine," he replies.

He's not exactly subtle as he steps away from Phil.

Dream has meanwhile dedicated himself to putting the food he stole back into your fridge. Techno wonders why he even did it in the first place; half the fruit's probably spoiled (though, knowing Dream, he probably stole a cool box or something).

And Techno doesn't know why he gives a shit.

The man sighs, walks straight into your living room and flops down on the couch. You live here alone, but it's your parents' old house. They live in the country now, apparently. He doesn't know exactly how much of it's a lie.

Because the robbery yesterday was a lie. It was easy enough to figure out who'd actually attacked you yesterday, especially considering that you were oh-so suspicious at breakfast and the sighting of The Butcher had been way to close to your house for it to be a coincidence. Of course, Dream literally crashing into him on the way back home via the rooftops (Techno's recently begun thinking that having superpowers is synonymous with taking the higher route through the city, because the amount of times he's bumped into other vigilantes or heroes up there is insane) only added to his suspicion.

He crosses his legs as he sits on the couch and leans back, making himself comfortable as he prepares to think some more.

But alas, before he can do much of anything at all, you walk in and promptly say: "Get off of my couch."

He jumps up and steps back very, very quickly. "Sorry."

You just glare at him, now fully dressed in your hero suit. It (pun unintended) suits you, and he finds it funny that the black cargo pants matched with the black turtle neck you're wearing are such a polar opposite to your usual look, which is much more... casual, he supposes.

He smiles sheepishly as you roll your eyes and motion that he follow you.

---

"You still haven't convinced me, Phantom," you say to the vigilante, who, despite being ever-so self confident, deflates.

"We just need your help, Y/N," Dream says, "And..." he swallows, "It's mostly because of your powers."

This makes you really look at him. "What?"

"I don't really know much about them, but a couple days ago I spotted a case file on you on The Captain's desk. I didn't have time to read through it but one of the points was a form of telekineses. You already manage to manipulate people and distract them with your power, why not use it against The Butcher?"

Oh. That makes a shit ton of sense.

"But why is he so... well... important?" You ask. It's a valid question, and you're eagerly awaiting the answer.

Instead of Dream, Philza speaks: "We suspect corruption."

"In the White House, via Schlatt. We know someone's been supporting some smaller villains, and we suspect that someone might also be supporting The Butcher. And it seems, from some of the evidence we've gathered, that this has been going on for a while," Phantom explains.

"Since the start of Schlatt's presidency," Philza adds.

"That's... that's not good," you start pacing, the gears in your head turning at incredible speeds, "I mean, we've suspected that Schlatt wasn't clean from the beginning, but being involved with The Butcher of all people? That's bad." You stop abruptly and look at the others, eyes wide. "That means he probably had something to do with the True Casino massacre. Schlatt's been in power for three years; that only happened last year. So the reason he's not been caught..."

"...Is because Schlatt's been pulling the hero council's strings," Dream finishes for you.

"Oh that's really bad," you murmur, wringing your hands, "Really bad. We've got no backup aside from some vigilantes, and I'm sorry but I'm like ninety percent sure if we work with them the Hero Council won't let us back in and-"

"They will," the Blood God speaks, his low, gravelly voice interrupting you easily. He continues. "Schlatt knows we know somethin', because we haven't exactly been subtle. Goin' after The Butcher, stealin' documents, there's a reason we've been on your radar and it's not the one Schlatt wants you to believe. That day when we broke into your headquarters? We'd stolen some papers on The Butcher. As you said, Schlatt's pullin' the strings, and if the Hero Council is really under his control to such an extent, then the fight with us is likely against their will."

Philza nods, and you think you catch sight of a familiar tuft of blonde hair under his large hat as he does so, "I've got a couple of friends working with you, Dune, Monarch, but they've cut contact recently." He exchanges a glance with the Blood God, "Come to think of it, right after the first heist."

You realise you've said Oh Fuck a lot of times in the past minute as you say it again.

"So," Apollon says, in that almost-familiar-voice, "Do you understand now why he's important."

You only nod.

---

Hours later, you and your ragtag, motley crew of superpower-havers make your way onto the rooftop of your home. It's the easiest way to travel in this city for those who don't have some power of flight (even though the dark matter you control might have that power, you haven't mastered more than a meter for a minute at a time). And, it's discrete, which is something you desperately need.

Earlier that day, you'd discussed at length what the plan was, and for now, you've decided that scoping out one of the potential places of residence for The Butcher's mysterious helper will be the most prudent idea. The first thing you plan to do is cut off contact, so that when you inevitably do face him, he won't have anywhere to run to.

That has led you to doing what you're doing now, which is simply walking. For a long time. Along the rooftops of L'Manberg, until you reach the home of someone known as Karl Jacobs. Walking double file.

Which means you're stuck, back here, with no one except The Blood God for company.

He hasn't spoken much to you since his rough greeting and hurried apology when he sat on your couch (which was weird, because it gave you a strange sense of deja vu; one that you'd experienced with most members of the Syndicate. Your only problem is that you can't figure out what you're actually recognizing). Now, however, he's quite hesitantly said a couple sentences to you, each quite obviously conversation starters that you've deigned to ignore.

But you feel bad, and Dream's talking about George to Phantom (which is just fucking surreal, because how did he get a literal vigilante who they've fought on numerous occasions to listen to him rant about his goddamn crush?) so you decide that you're going to make conversation.

It's just going to be at the expense of someone else.

"So," you say, "Please tell me you've been listening to Dream rant for the past hour."

The Blood God grins, and you have to stifle a laugh, because you can't be immediately laughing with your fucking enemy... right? "Naturally. I've now heard all about Georgenotfound's miraculous intelligence, ineffable sense of humour, and undeniable charisma. I also think I may have caught a snippet of somethin' along the lines of Dream admrin' him shirtless, but you know, things get muffled up when you've been awake for goin' on nineteen hours."

"Oof, that long? And then having to deal with this? That must not be fun. At least I had a good night's sleep before discovering the literal Syndicate standing on my front porch."

"Touché, touché," he murmurs, focusing back on the ground, obviously believing your conversation to be over (because, let's be honest, that's the longest any of your conversations have lasted this past hour).

But no. You persist. "I think Dream heard us," you mutter, because he's gone silent, and as you glance at him, you see him blushing.

Beside you, The Blood God pauses a moment, as though considering his thoughts, and then says: "I was so invested though!"

"Shut up," Dream whines, glaring at Phantom, "The only reason I was talking was because this idiot fucking convinced me to."

"Useful blackmail material," the brunette shrugs, before grinning and looking at you. "Plus, I know my audience enjoys it."

You raise an eyebrow and glance at The Blood God.

"He's way to fuckin' convincin', so do try not to listen to him," said man says.

Phantom shrugs, "Too charismatic for my own good I guess."

The Blood God chuckles, the low sound strangely enough sending shivers through you before you grab ahold of yourself. Seriously? You're attracted to a seven foot man with a pig mask on who's literally been tormenting you and your team for months? You find a self-righteous prick with a tad too much self esteem hot?

You can't believe yourself sometimes.

---

"Now I'm bored," Phantom groans, stepping back towards Dream who speeds up, instantly crossing his arms and straightening his posture. Phantom, slightly taller but much more lithe, keeps up with him easily, walking backwards and grinning as he pesters your friend.

You roll your eyes, then turn back to look at Techno "Is he always like this?"

Techno doesn't know what inspires him to say this, but he still replies: "Not so much when he's a civilian. It's kind of like we all get to just... let loose when we're like this."

"Absolute anonymity? Very little to lose? Powers beyond mortal comprehension? Sounds like potential for disaster," you say, frowning. You're shorter than him (but then again, everyone is when he's in his other form) but you still manage to match his pace, surprisingly. Either you're determined or just super in shape (and considering his gaze keeps - fully on accident - flickering to your cheeks, your neck, your lips, he can see that you're in fact quite out of breath, at least judging by how red you are).

Or perhaps that's just you blushing? (you're kidding yourself, the voices say, you really think they'd pick you?)

Techno swallows, forcing them away. The words still stick with him though.

He senses he's thought for a moment to long about his answer, and hurriedly mutters: "It's slightly more important than that, our job."

"Hmm?" You ask, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we've suspected corruption in the Hero Council for a while now. Our job is to fight for people minus the bureaucracy of something like that."

"And yet your fights largely end up in violence, much more than ours," you bite back, your tone not yet hostile but not entirely kind anymore either.

"It's easier when you have unwavering support and practically endless government fundin', darlin'," he says coldly, the pet name slipping out before he can stop himself. He blushes immediately, turning his head away from you before you can see the red coating his cheek. He wants to bury his head in his hands and scream because the voices are literally all yelling 'What the fuck?" and he really can't focus now.

"Oh," you breathe out, and Techno takes a deep breath in and then turns his head back, schooling his expression into something much less emotional.

Now he can see that you're just as flustered as he is.

He'd be lying if he said that he didn't feel a little burst of pride, his hybrid side coming out in a slightly embarrassing, quite territorial, way.

You blush some more, before rubbing the back of your neck and saying: "Any-anything else you want to say about um... government funding?" To somehow try and relieve the situation of it's awkwardness. But you stuttering has Techno getting this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach (butterflies, he thinks), and that basically does the opposite.

"Look, I'm-" Techno wants to say he's sorry, but at that point Phil yells: "We're here!" And he's really not sure if he's been saved or doomed by the metaphorical bell.

TAGLIST

@andwhentheworldendsthenwhat

(dm me to be added to the taglist :)

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #technoblade imagine #dsmp imagine #dsmp x reader #dream smp #dream smp x reader #[the fall] series #the fall

[under-and-over-the-moon]

Debt II | Jisung

*Please read Part I first for context *

Minors DNI/DNF/Do not read!

pairing: Reader x Jisung

word count: 6.7k

genre: friends-to-lovers (but briefly enemies-to-friends in this chapter), fake marriage!au, canal city!au, slowburn, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

warnings: flashbacks, reader’s ex is toxic, manipulation and gaslighting (not by Jisung, don’t worry), mentions of birth control, past Jisung is even more awkward, social anxiety, classism/discrimation

A/N: I was going to have some sparser flashbacks thrown in to explain how they got to where they are, but I felt like it didn’t give sufficient time for things to build, so I’m trying a new format - splitting the chapters between ones set in the present w/ Jisung’s POV, and ones in the past w/ Reader’s POV (also had to repost this bc tumblr somehow ate half my tags and won’t re-pick them up)

All characters are adults.

~~~

[One year ago]

The paint needed touching up.

From your perch on the couch, you saw the way it peeled beneath the windowsill, the leaking water having pulled it from the concrete beneath in curling sheets. Early winter was always rainy, and you had found shortly after moving in that the windows were not weatherproof – any time it rained for more than an hour, you would start to hear the water drip onto the floor, your stomach always dropping with it.

You would call the landlord again in the morning. Not that he would actually respond, but you had to try.

“Babe!!”

You turned towards the voice, and saw your boyfriend ducking through the front door, moving his head away from where the metal of the doorframe hung jagged, a perpetual threat of casual maiming that neither you nor any of your roommates even thought about anymore. Another request to your landlord, lost to the ether.

Your boyfriend stepped forward, backlit by the teetering gray light of rainclouds in retreat, until he was in the glow of your reading light. His eyes were bright, news heavy on his tongue.

“I got an invite from one of my buddies at the work gym, friend of a friend, you know how it goes…”

He smiled wider, clearly more towards himself than you. He had been going to the gym fairly regularly since he found he had more influence there than anywhere else – even though he was born no higher than you, the government officials who also attended seemed to see some burly, youthful ideal of an underdog in him, the body he was born into allowing him a measure of favor that his family situation didn’t. He had been collecting acquaintances there, and returning to you with stories of his quiet triumphs for months.

“..for a holiday party at one of the senior officials’. Go get dressed,” he continued, brushing raindrops from his coat, “We have to leave in 5.”

“We?” you countered.

“Of course we. Don’t you want to go? It’s a great networking opportunity.”

You sighed, sitting in the uncomfortable tension between should and want. Your week had been long and stressful, and you were looking forward to a quiet night in, listening to the rain, away from the daily jostling and grinding you were forced to do to reinforce your place. And you heard his point but…a party like this would be exactly the kind of place you would be the least wanted, the least comfortable.

Even though you had been working in the housing office for a few years and were widely acknowledged as being a hard and efficient worker, you never expected any sort of a invite during this time of the year. You heard whispers about holiday parties near the coffee machines and sometimes would see women putting on eyeliner and velvet dresses at the end of the day in the office bathrooms before heading off to some riverhouse across town, but you mostly ignored it. Parties like that were for a certain circle, and you were definitely outside the lines.

That had been, in fact, the first thing that had bound you to your boyfriend – he worked in the budgeting office, and he, like you, was born to a worker family far outside the towns center, where sun-parched grasses drowned in the waters of crumbling canals, the floors of your house in a perpetual state of drying-from-floods. Like you, he had worked himself to the bone during school so that he even had a chance to interview his current job - even though it was just an entry level position, people like you rarely made it to any post in the government. So you had thought that he would be an oasis in the daily grind of performance, of hustling to prove that you belonged.

Sometimes you were just so tired of the striving that the exhaustion sat itself behind your eyes, wrapping itself around your head in a pounding headache.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“I uh,” you said, breaking your boyfriend’s expectant daze, “Was kind of thinking of just staying in tonight. It’s been a long week, I’m pretty tired.”

Your boyfriend’s expression immediately fell, his eyes taking on a glint of gray from the rainclouds outside out window.

“Why do you never want to do anything,” he retorted, eyebrows knit together, “It’s a party. And a nice one. You’re lucky you even get to go.”

You’re lucky because of me, he meant.

“I don’t get why you don’t network more,” he continued, eyebrows pulled taught, “You’re never going to get to be a higher level official at this rate, especially with your background. And I’m giving you an opportunity to combat that on a silver platter and you won’t even go?”

You broke his gaze an took a long, deep breathe, that familiar feeling of being cornered returning to your bones. He must be right. You were being ungrateful, lazy, to not accept his invitation.

So, swallowing back your stomach, you whispered a faint, “Okay, I’ll get ready,” your cheeks reddening from the cold and the shame he had drawn out of you, like blood from a wound he himself had cut into your skin.

~~~

The party was held in an appropriately swanky red riverhouse, the owner’s boat tethered boastfully along the riverfront. The interior had been decked out in décor that was simultaneously overwhelming and restrained – endless evergreen garlands, golden candlesticks, extensive spreads of the finest cheeses and wines on artisanal oak tables, expensive in their curated ruggedness. There was little joy in it, but there was power, and therefore, wonder.

Your boyfriend flitted between groups of people in a rising line of importance, and in the candlelight you saw the garishness in his exaggerated expressions, the slightly-too-harsh tone of his laugh. For better or for worse, you were mostly left alone – people at this kind of party knew who came from where, and the exception they had so graciously bestowed on your boyfriend didn’t extend to you. There was an empty, polite question here and there, but eyes rarely fell on you. You still smiled along, trying your best to participate in the conversation, biding your time until you could leave.

And then suddenly there was a cold gust of wind as the door opened, and a young man walked in, short and slight of build. His eyes darted across the room, and then he walked over to you and your boyfriend, and said simply, his eyes technically looking at you but not quite, “Hi, I’m Jisung.”

And so you introduced yourself and your boyfriend, before the young man turned away, without a second glance, staring flatly at the group in front of you.

He stood there for a while, watching as people talked without participating. But you saws the eyes of the men in front of you flit to him every few seconds, not with the confusion or mockery you would expect, but some sort of recognition. Quiet, restrained. Almost reverent.

And then, half-way through a conversation, a sentence still only half formed on the tongue of the elderly official in front of you, the young man turned to the food spread without a word, extending his hand out towards a cracker before withdrawing it. He then turned on his heel, and headed straight for the door.

“That was odd,” you whispered to your boyfriend.

“Yeah…super weird dude,” he muttered, not breaking eye contact from the man in front of you to respond.

And for the rest of the evening, you didn’t think once about him. He was just a passing wind, you thought, an odd chill that had swept through your life for a few moments, leaving no trace. Like so many of the buzzing voices around you, or your own existence to those with whom you spoke at the party.

~~~

At around 3 am you finally found yourself descending the concrete steps into your basement apartment, the dampness in the air clinging to your skin, the chill allowing it to sink into your bones. You ducked under the jagged metal that once again welcomed you home, entering your now pitch-back apartment. Your roommates were already asleep.

You tip-toed down the hall, trying to keep the old creaky floorboards as quiet as possible, past four doors. Those four bedrooms housed seven people in total, and with you and your boyfriend in the bedroom at the end of the hall, the apartment felt always too small, never quite comfortable. You perpetually felt like you were disturbing someone. But the rent was low split nine ways, and you did your best to bring some happiness into the space – picture frames with your family, quilted pillows from your mom, a few random knick-knacks from a store you had found under a market downtown.

You gently pushed your bedroom dorm open, closing it behind your boyfriend before rummaging through your drawers. The room was only filled by faint blue moonlight, flickering slightly as the rain fell against your small, high window, but you didn’t need to see – you knew the fabric of your nightgown by touch, the linen cool against your palm. You quickly stripped yourself of your party clothes, relieved as you slipped the light fabric over your head, and then yourself between the sheets of your bed.

Your headache from earlier had sunk so deep beneath your skull that nothing but sleep could erase it. You were relieved that you finally got a moment of quiet, of peace, to rest in the darkness with nothing you were obliged to do.

And then you felt a hand snake over your shoulder, and the whisper of a “Baby…”

You knew the term was reserved for requests, not endearment.

You sighed, squeezing your eyes together.

“Not tonight,” you responded, “I’m really too tired.”

And then you felt his hand slip from your shoulder and the dip of the mattress as he turned onto his back.

“Fine,” he muttered, the frustration thick in his voice, “I’m tired too, probably wouldn’t even feel that good with the condom and all….”

What had been a gentle inhale caught in your throat, your shoulders immediately tensing. You had been through this before, explained the situation to him, but it had always been like banging your hands against the wall, hoping it would move. You know you would only hurt your own fists.

So you let our your exhale - slow, unsteady – but decided to remain silent. With your eyes closed and in the silence you had chosen to create, you could almost pretend that you were alone.

~~~

When you arrived at work the following Monday, you were immediately flagged down by Seungmin.

He had started working in the same office only a month or so before you, and while he mostly stayed to himself, consumed in his own work, there was one thing that could draw him out of his bubble to slide over to your desk.

Gossip.

“Hey…” he murmured, scooting backwards from his desk so that he was in whispering range. You unwrapped your scarf from your neck, draping it on the back of your chair, eyebrow raised.

“Did you hear?” he whispered.

There was no one else in the office yet – no one else came in this early – but his eyes still darting at the door, carefully watching if anyone was entering.

The gossip must be good.

“Someone new is joining the team,” he said, “A new grad.”

“Oh? Who?” you responded, settling yourself down into your chair and turning towards him.

“I didn’t meet him,” he answered, “But his name is Jisung.”

The name sprung something in your brain, but in your sleepy morning fog, you were having a hard time pinpointing exactly why the name registered. And so you repeated it silently in your head, over and over until -

An imagine of the short man at the party popped into your head.

Oh no.

“I think he’s a Han,” continued Seungmin, unaware of your recognition, his voice growing even quieter as his eyes widened.

“A Han?” you asked. Having only moved to the city a few years ago, you didn’t know family names past the ones of those you worked with directly, or those of your roommates.

“Of the Hans,” he responded, as if that was a full explanation.

At your confused expression, he leaned in, eyebrows shooting up.

“You don’t know the Hans??” he whispered again, but with so much force it might have well been a shout, “They’re like…super old money. Came here at like the dawn of time to trade, controlled the canal construction in the city? Their patriarch was chancellor a few decades ago, and their hands go deep in pretty much every part of the government. Pockets even deeper.”

He scooted a little bit forward, the corners of his mouth rising as he thought of his next tidbit to share.

“I think Jisung’s older sister married a billionaire from the southern capital a few years ago,” he continued, “Wedding was insane. At least from the pictures, I wasn’t invited.”

His enthusiasm was shattered briefly by a look of frustration – although Seungmin’s family was not of the worker class, you had learned after moving to the city that there was a strict hierarchy within the upper class itself. Seungmin’s family occupied the lowers rungs.

Those whose ancestors held the top posts during the canal construction were highest, nearly untouchable, but there was a whole array of others who hadn’t technically labored on the canals, yet still didn’t truly call the shots. These included the more minor officials, a smattering of high-ranking merchants who had organized the supply of raw materials, and construction managers. Their descendants had the privilege of navigating society with relative ease, but their didn’t wield enough influence to be invited to be invited to the exclusive, opulent parties of families like the Hans.

But Seungmin regained his composure, buoyed by his sparkly news, the freedom with which he got to opine in the empty space. He lowered his voice, and looked pointedly at you.

“Bet he’ll be a peach to work with,” he muttered, eyes dancing around the room to make sure no one else had arrived, “So you might want to buckle up, get ready to take on some extra work.”

Your stomach immediately dropped, the space it left behind immediately filled by a bubbling, burning anger. You were already coming to work early and leaving after anyone else – what you did not need was to take on the work of some lazy, entitled heir.

And, on a personal note, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually have to spend the whole day with Jisung. You had only spend a few minutes with him at that party, and it was painfully awkward. You remembered then how the older officials had looked at him, and it now made sense – he was probably one of those people that never had to learn how to integrate themselves in conversation. The world adjusted conversation to them.

You reached to your temples, a stress headache already forming.

“When does he get here?” you asked, trying to keep the obvious bitterness out of your voice.

“Tomorrow,” Seungmin responded, just as another coworker strode through the door, cutting your conversation short.

~~~

As Seungmin predicted, Jisung arrived at 9 am the next day.

You watched as your coworkers greeted him, biting the inside of your lip to hold back your frustration as they grasped his hands with eagerness, eyes locked on him with an attention they certainly hadn’t given you on your first day.

After a few minutes, you stepped forward too, offering your hand. He only looked at you blankly, as if he had never once laid eyes on you, never spent a half-hour standing next to you.

Of course he didn’t remember you. Or just wouldn’t acknowledge you. Silly to think he would.

So you reintroduced yourself as quickly as you could, exchanged the minimum number of pleasantries necessary and quickly got back to work. If you were going to have to take on his work as well, you didn’t have time to waste giving him any more attention. He certainly didn’t need it.

So you turned on your heel, returning to your desk, sliding the first set of documents from your to-do pile as you uncapped your pen.

~~~

As the day progressed, you found at one unexpected benefit of Jisung’s presence.

For the whole rest of the workday, your coworkers flocked around him like hyenas, asking if he needed anything, trying to entice him with witty anecdotes, stories of interactions they had had with various members of his family. Even high officials from other offices came to greet him, to welcome him heartily to his government post.

The ceaseless attention continued to irritate you, but with all eyes on Jisung, you were at least left alone to work in peace. No one came over to you to ask you to pick up some random task, to run an errand, to get coffee. So even with your bitterness nibbling quietly at your core, you were eventually able to tune it out, so that the whole world was just you, your desk, your work. It was blissfully productive, and then –

“I…is there something I can help you with?”

Startled, you spun in your chair to see Jisung standing behind you, his hands clasped together.

“Why are you still here?” you snapped before you could control your tone, and you saw something that looked strangely like hurt flit across his eyes. He stepped back slightly.

“I – sorry,” you said, softening your voice, “I just – it’s already 8pm, so I guess I’m just…confused why you’re still here. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“I…don’t,” he said. Almost as if he were embarrassed.

Your boyfriend had been right…Jisung was a weird dude. You couldn’t understand what he was doing, why he was here, why he was offering to help you. He had already ignored you twice – why was he acknowledging you now, when you finally were getting work done?

“You don’t have to help me,” you said firmly, “You can go home.”

“I…” he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t say that I recognized you earlier. Because I did.”

He swallowed hard, continuing, “You were at that party, right? At the red riverhouse?”

You nodded slowly, and at your affirmation, the words began tumbling from his mouth, all smushed together.

“I’msosorry. I was thinking about it all day, how I must’ve made a bad impression today. I don’t want you to think I forgot, or that you weren’t memorable, but I got nervous that you would think I found you too memorable, like I had just been thinking about you since we met, because that would be creepy. I promise I just remember you a normal amount but I got kind of overwhelmed and froze up and then I just didn’t –“

“Jisung, stop,” you said, holding up your hand, “You don’t have to apologize.”

If you had given yourself one extra second to think it through your next statement, you would have stopped yourself, said something neutral and pleasant. But something suddenly clicked in you – maybe just the exhaustion of day, or the simmering resentment with roots that had been growing your whole life – regardless, quite past your own control, you found yourself suddenly unable to say anything but the truth.

“Look,” you said, voice firm, “I don’t know who you talked to, or how much you know about this office, but you don’t need to worry about getting into my good books. I’m an entry level worker, just here to do this job the best I can, so I can feed myself, house myself, and send money to my family in the countryside to repair our home from flood for like the seventeenth time.”

He likely already knew based on the way he had interacted with you at the party, but this would surely make it clear who you were - only the worker class lived in the countryside, had to bail out their houses from floods, again and again.

“So you don’t need to bother with trying to charm me,” you continued, “It won’t matter for your career.”

And then, the boiling anger that had lodged itself in you ever since Seungmin’s announcement a day earlier bubbled over, the most bitter corner of your honesty hitting the air.

“And it’s not like you made any kind of effort at the party with me,” you said, “So why start now that we’re coworkers?”

Jisung stared at you wide-eyed for a moment, stunned, and the quiet suddenly clanged with your own panic.

How could you be so stupid? Impulsive? He was a Han. He could destroy your tenuous position like that if he wanted, all your hard work to be washed away in the winter rains.

And then he spoke, slowly, quietly, like a confession. Not making eye contact.

“I’m…sorry for that too,” he said, “That was…I didn’t mean…It’s my own problem I –“

He looked up briefly to make eye contact with you, and it looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else, to be talking about anything else. But there was something desperately earnest in him, forcing it out.

“I’m not…good with people,” he continued, “I try to come up with the right the thing to say and you see what happens, it gets all twisted and weird, so then sometimes I just kind of freeze, and can’t say anything at all. People will humor me, be nice to me because of my family, but this…it doesn’t come easily to me.”

He took another deep breathe, sighing heavily.

“But I’ve been…trying to get more practice, maybe get better at it, so I went to that party but I got so overwhelmed and nervous that then I just left – which of course, you saw. So, I’m sorry about that too. And today. And for now, also.”

You paused for a moment, trying to process, a tight wad of guilt budding in your chest.

“You just seemed nice at the party. And you were still nice, even though you clearly didn’t…know me.”

His implication was clear. Know my family.

“So I was waiting for a moment when there were fewer people today so I would be less likely to mess up to talk to you. I was just hoping I could get to know you a little better, maybe? Make amends for earlier?…But I totally get that you’re just here to work, I didn’t mean to disturb you more by coming over here. Sorry again.”

And with that he gave you a weak smile, and said “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

And then the guilt fully bloomed, crowding into your heart, your lungs. He was just a kid, and this was his first day of work and he clearly had been so nervous and you had been so mean to him when he hadn’t actually done anything to you. You had constructed a whole persona for him based on a few flimsy facts, and a mountain of assumptions. You never even gave him a chance.

“Jisung, wait!” you called after him, and he slowly turned, eyes on the edge between apprehension and hope, “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me. I just…I thought you didn’t think I was worth your time, which you clearly don’t. It’s just that I’m used to that kind of thing and with your…”

You waved your hands in his general direction, and he nodded slightly so that you knew he understood the meaning of your wild gesticulation.

“A lot of people act like I’m not worth their time once they know…more about me. To think you came over because you thought I was so nice…”

You shook your head at yourself.

“Can I treat you to lunch tomorrow? To apologize? Maybe have second chance for both of us, start over?”

His face lit up, his smile uncontained.

“Oh it’s okay! You don’t have to treat!” he responded, “But I would love to get lunch with you.”

“Great,” you said, “Go get some rest then, I’m sure you’re tired from your first day. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

And you sent him off with your warmest smile.

~~~

The sun was warm against your face, baking the bricks beneath your feet and dancing in the canal waters in front of you.

“The third seasons my favorite,” you said, stabbing your fork into your lunch, “It just wraps up everything so well, the character arcs are perfect.”

“Mmm,” agreed Jisung, “My only issue with the third was the pairing they ended up with? I don’t know it just seemed like there were so many better option for her to end up with and then she ends up with him? It just seemed kind of forced to me, like they planned out that storyline from the beginning, but then the characters evolved and ended up in such difference places that other people would have just made way more sense?”

“Yes!” you agreed, “There was no chemistry. You’re right – it really seems like they decided on it early on, and then stuck to a plan they shouldn’t have. Honestly, none of the pairings really made sense.”

Jisung took another bite of his sandwich, nodding vigorously in agreement while his mouth was full of bread. You leaned back against the bench, gazing across the flowerbeds. The government building loomed behind you, gray and imposing, the shadow it cast a constant reminder of the work you had yet to complete.

You had expected your first lunch to be mostly a mea culpa, maybe a gateway to a gentle work acquaintanceship, but you had quickly found that you had more in common than you thought. You liked all the same books, movies, and shared a favorite childhood show that both of you still (embarrassingly) liked to watch. Things with Jisung were suprisingly easy. Comfortable, even. So your first lunch had naturally flowed into one the next day, and then the next week, and now it was just a normal part of both of your routines.

At noon each day, you would leave the office together, and while he grabbed lunch from one of the fancy lunch places along the river, you staked your claim on your favorite bench where he would meet you a few minutes later.

“So…” you said, watching as he scrunched the paper that had wrapped his sandwich into a ball, “Your birthday is Saturday, right?”

Jisung’s had snapped to yours, eyebrows rising in surprise, as he asked, “How did you know?”

“I always look up birthdays in the employee database when new people join,” you responded, “If I like them, that is.”

Jisung smiled, breaking eye contact to watch a tug boat that floated lazily by.

“So I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday,” you said, “since I won’t see you until after.”

He looked back at you, but said nothing. But there was something in his expression to you that was clear, but you couldn’t pin exactly why you were able to decipher it. He wanted something.

“You have a thought,” you stated, looking at him intently.

“Oh I…” he said, “Oh no it’s nothing.”

“Come on, Ji,” you said.

You immediately pushed your lips together, chastising yourself for your slip-up. The nickname had come out so naturally, so easily but…you might be work acquaintances and have some things in common, but he was still a Han. You shouldn’t just be throwing around nicknames with someone like that.

But Jisung just smiled, the reflections off the water pooling in his eyes.

“YouwannacometomyhouseSaturday?” he said all at once, as if he was pushing the words out before he stopped himself, before he reconsidered.

“You want me to come over?” you asked, wondering if you had misinterpreted his mumbling, constructed a fantasy meaning from entirely different words.

But he just nodded vigorously, expression apprehensive.

“For your birthday?”

He nodded again.

Your immediate thought was that no, you did not want to attend some sort of party that no doubt would be populated only families like the Hans, having to awkwardly dodge questions and watch as people looked at your with that pitying look. You didn’t even know what the expectations would be – what were you supposed to wear? Bring?

It sounded like hell, but after the way you had talked to him on his first day, you still felt that you owed him.

And aside from all the family stuff – he was nice. At least he had been so far, to you.

“Okay,” you said, breathing in slowly, “Yeah, I think I can do that. Should I…bring anything?”

He grinned widely, and just shook his head as he said, “Only you.”

~~~

At Saturday at 8pm, you found yourself standing in front of white door, in a long, glittering hallway, clutching at the box you had brought with you.

You took one deep breath. Two. You would knock after the third.

Three. Four. Five. Six.

Okay, you said to yourself, you can do this.

You squeezed your first, rapping twice on the door.

You heard a shuffle from inside, and then a few clicks before the door swung open, Jisung’s bashful smile coming into view.

And then you saw the interior of his apartment, and your jaw dropped.

You had known that his apartment would be luxurious and beautiful, like all those staged homes you had seen on the cover of architecture magazines as you had waited to check out your groceries. But to see it in person was quite another thing.

The interior was all painted white, with soaring ceilings and exquisite moldings, wrapped by on all sides by high windows that offered a glittering view of the bay below, the lights of boats and windows twinkling in the darkness. Your eyes bounced between the fireplace, the spotless couch, various sparkles of gold and bronze and silver, the colors in the rug spread beneath his feet. Heirlooms too precious for him to touch, for you to even look at.

And then you noticed – there were no people. Just you and Jisung.

You swallowed before stepping across the threshold and handing the box you had been carrying to him.

“A cake,” you explained, “I baked it, for your birthday.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, face lighting up, “Thank you! That’s so nice of you. Let me take it to the kitchen, we can cut it there.”

And so you followed him as he walked through the living room, your eyes desperately trying to take in your surroundings. You weren’t surprised to see that his kitchen was similarly appointed with what was no doubt an incredibly expensive coffee machine, the same expanse of windows with views of the bay, a set of tables and chairs that looked as if it had been pulled straight out of a magazine.

He gently opened the box, rummaging through the one of the draws to pull out a knife, and then carefully pressed it against the cake. The cake was a simple chocolate one, dusted in powdered sugar, the one your mother had always made you. You were sure he was used to finer desserts, but he seemed genuinely excited that you had brought it.

As you watched him slice it into eighths, you finally gave voice to the question that had been clawing at you since you entered.

“Sorry, Jisung, am I early? I kind of thought this was going to be a party…”

You saw him freeze for a moment, tensing, before turning around slowly, his eyes falling on yours.

“It…no, it’s just us. Is that okay? I probably should have made that clear.”

And then you saw his eyes bug out, a sudden realization hitting him, and he rushed to explain,

“I hoped you don’t think this is a…move or something. To like, invite you to my apartment to get you alone. That wasn’t my intent, I just thought it would be fun to…hang out?”

You were suddenly hit with that familiar urge that you sometimes felt around him, to say what you actually thought, and before you had thought it through you were asking:

“Can I ask…why? I just kind of assumed with all your connections and your family and everything you would have this big party. So I guess I’m just surprised, and kind of confused why I’m here, and like, clearly you wouldn’t be hitting on me or anything but I don’t know…I guess I’m just kind of confused?”

He took a deep breathe, lowering his eyes.

“I had that before this, the family thing. Dinner with my parents, my sister, her husband, family friends. But honestly it’s more of an obligation than anything else, a way for families to reinforce ties. And then normally I just come home to my apartment after.”

He took a deep breath, biting at his lip.

“Every year my sister suggests have a party after, with just my friends, but…I guess there just hasn’t been anyone who I felt comfortable enough with for that? Who I thought would want to celebrate with me? I guess I just don’t really have…”

Friends. He trailed off, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence, the reality too heavy for him to speak.

“But this year, when my sister asked, I thought of you. Even though we haven’t known each other for that long, I’m…comfortable with you. I like spending time with you. And it seems like might like spending time with me? And I didn’t think I would actually ask, but then you mentioned it at work and well…”

He gestured towards you, standing in his kitchen.

“It’s embarrassing to say, but that’s the truth, since you were curious.”

You nodded, a little bubble of something new and warm forming in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile. At your expression, his shoulders visibly relaxed. You wanted to put him at ease, to assure him that he hadn’t made the wrong choice in pushing himself to ask.

You were also reeling a little bit at the idea that he had been so nervous about asking you.

“I do like spending time with you,” you responded, “And I’m honored you want me to celebrate with you…”

“But I would try the cake first,” you said, your smile taking on a mischievous edge, “before you decide that I’m the birthday guest you want. It’s my mom’s recipe, but she’s the good baker, not me.”

He chuckled, saying, “Honestly, it could be the driest cake and I think I would still like it.”

~~~

The doorbell rang. Your order of chicken wings, probably.

“I’ll get it,” said Jisung, rising from his seat.

You had been curled up on his couch for the last five hours or so, going through the entire first season of your shared favorite show. And while you hadn’t entirely settled into your surroundings, you were finding surprisingly easy to feel comfortable. You chatted and laughed, ordered various fried foods as the night progressed between bites of your (mediocre) cake, sinking deeper and deeper into the cushions.

Jisung walked back over to you, placing the take-out container on the table. You gingerly picked up a wing, holding your hand against the back of your plate, guarding against any drips. You still were terrified of getting anything on his pristine white couch, which no doubt cost more than half a year’s rent.

Catching your caution, Jisung quickly said, “Oh don’t worry about getting anything dirty. It’s not a big deal.”

You looked at him incredulously, saying, “But isn’t this couch like…thousands of dollars…”

“Well yes, but…” he trailed off, clearly weighing whether continued explanation would too clearly highlight your differences, come off as a boast.

And then you saw something spark in his expression. And you knew immediately, just as you had by the canal earlier in the week – he wanted to ask you something.

“Can I ask you something?” he ventured cautiously.

“Mhmh, ” you responded, your mouth still full.

“Why the housing office? “ he continued, “I know it’s not…typical for people with your background. So I’ve been curious.”

You swallowed your mouthful, before responding, “I think I alluded to it when we first talked. But the house I grew up in was always in a pretty dire state. Which is pretty typical in the countryside with the crumbling canals and everything built too low but…waking up in the middle of the night to floods, all of your belongings getting ruined, constantly fighting the dampness and the mold…”

“I just think sometimes about when I have kids, how awful I’d feel too if they had to live in a house like that. How awful my parents did feel. Trying to keep the house safe and stable for us. It always hurt to see how much they blamed themselves for something they couldn’t control. I just feel like everyone should be able to have a nice, safe house, a true home. So I wanted to get into the housing office to see if I could maybe get more attention on that, on building homes that are more flood resistant in the countryside, and better support for when there are floods.”

You let out a slow, frustrated exhale.

“Of course right now I’m mostly just getting through paperwork. And that dream feels pretty stupid now, actually. Like, there’s no way I’ll be able to actual do anything at this rate but, I’m here in this job now I guess, so…” you shrugged, looking back at the screen in front of you.

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” said Jisung gently, laying his hand gently on your knee, before catching himself and pulling it back.

~~~

When you woke up the next morning, you immediately knew by the feel of the sheets – silky, soft – that you weren’t at home.

You bolted upright, blinking away the sleep until the room came into view. Jisung’s apartment. Jisung’s bedroom.

You threw off the comforter and padded back into the living room to see Jisung sitting on his couch, a pillow to his left and a crinkled blanket to his right.

“Oh my god, did you sleep on your couch because of me?” you asked.

Jisung turned to you, and exclaimed, “Oh you’re up! Oh uh, yeah, but, it was no problem – you fell asleep during the movie so I moved you to my bed, I hope you don’t mind? And obviously I wasn’t going to sleep in the bed with you, so…”

“I’m so sorry Ji!” you said shaking your head at yourself, “It was your birthday and you didn’t even get to sleep in your own bed! I’m the worst.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” he said, “I was really fine! The couch was perfectly comfortable.”

“And honestly I kind of…” he continued, “I’ve never had a birthday that was so fun that we just kind of fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.”

He looked down for a moment, the embarrassment casting a shadow over him for a moment, before he looked back up at you, his face all sunshine.

“So I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday,” he concluded.

You smiled back at him, and before you thought it through fully, you leapt forward pulling him into a hug. He tensed for a moment in surprise, before he melted into you, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“I’m glad,” you whispered, “You deserve the best birthday.”

He then pulled away, looking at your seriously, his eyes quickly dancing between yours, looking for something.

“How about I make you some coffee?” he asked, his hand rubbing at the back of his head, expression guilty, “I think you maybe got like…four hours of sleep max? Which is my fault, so this is the least I can do.”

You knew then that you must look tired but that he was too polite to tell you that, so you suppressed a giggle, simple stating, “That would be great, Ji.”

So he stood up, and, with one final smile, disappeared into the kitchen.

~~~

* Part III Coming Soon :) *

~~~

Photo by Henry Be on Unsplash

~~~

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[aimandfire21]

something that has bothered me about the situation is some people are leaving the fandom(which is totally fine) but they say it’s because that, regardless of the nature of the messages, dream shouldn’t have been privately speaking to minors/fans at all. but… the people who are saying this shipped dnf knowing full well their backstory. george was a full adult in university with a job while dream’s biggest concern was that he wanted to do online school(not to mention Sapnap who was literally like a freshman in high school. same thing with bad, who was like 17 while dream was like 14. in both situations, especially with george, they would’ve been sharing private messages and calls. i think people don’t take this into account because a) george and dream and sapnap are all guys and b) because people have a narrow view of what a power dynamic is. just because a power dynamic is in place doesn’t mean the situation is inherently bad. age, jobs , income, and social status are all things in a relationship that create a power dynamic, but that doesn’t mean that those differences should be off limits in relationships

(i hope this all made sense)

I kinda get it.

People are very weird about age difference in friendships nowadays, which is worrying. People are acting like the fact that a 20 year old was talking to a 17 year old privatly at all is a problem, which is weird for a lot of reasons.

One, a lot of people at the start of the Dream smp were minors when they first joined, while Dream was an adult. Do they think Dream never talked to them off camera?

Two, if children are told they can never talk to adults online then the adults that want to hurt or take advantage of them will literally just lie. It's worse because minors won't have healthy adult roll models to show them what a healthy relationship is or to help them realize something is off or wrong.

Stranger danger and internet saftey is something children especially need to learn, but attempting to stay isolated/keep them isolated is only going to make them more vurnable.

Power dynamics are also tricky and complex things that I cannot even attempt to fully incapsulate in a Tumblr post. Age can be a power dynamic, but not always. Fame as well.

Another thing is that power, just because it's there, doesn't mean it's abused. Nor does it mean any grooming took place.

Grooming is a very heavy word. I wish people took it more seriously.

#dream was taken #dreamwastaken #dream

[camgoloud]

22-25 for the end of the year reading asks!

(In response to this ask game which I reblogged Several days ago lmao)

22. What's the longest book you read?

By page count it's pretty close to tied between Iron Gold (Pierce Brown) and The Will of the Many (James Islington)! Iron Gold is the fourth book in a sci-fi series that I read a while ago—since this summer I’ve been slowly rereading/listening to the audiobook versions of the first five books because I learned that the sixth one was being released in July after a several year wait and couldn’t remember enough about the plot to jump straight into it. Working my way through the fifth one right now which is even longer (34 hour audiobook!)... hopefully I'll finish it before the end of the year so I can finally start the new one. Meanwhile The Will of the Many is the recently-published first in a planned trilogy and it's all about Gary Stu's adventures in the fantasy Roman Empire with a magic system that's a somewhat-clunky, hilariously unsubtle satire of trickle-down economics. I had fun with it :)

23. What’s the fastest time it took you to read a book?

I think the full-length novel that I went through the fastest is probably Catherynne Valente’s Space Opera, which I read in a sub-24 hour period (picked it up at the library on a Friday afternoon and was done before Saturday evening). My feelings on that one are somewhat mixed—it’s a quick read (lmao) and a fun concept (2/3 ex-members of a washed-up English glam rock band get forcibly conscripted to represent Earth in its first inter-galactic Eurovision analogue after first contact with aliens; if they lose humanity is deemed unworthy of entering the cultural conversation and the planet gets destroyed) and months later I am still compelled by the relationships between the main two characters/their narrative-haunting dead best friend, and there are a few specific sentences I could quote word for word because I liked the prose so much—but also the prose is just So Fucking Much. My god. Valente read the Goodreads quote page for Hitchhiker’s Guide and said “I’m going to write a book where Every Single Sentence reads exactly like all of these” and by god she fucking did it! Kind of grated on me after a couple of chapters tbh and also I can’t decide whether I think the ending was strong or not... I'd recommend it though if you're a fan of Hitchhiker's and/or Eurovision and/or rock band drama!

24. Did you DNF anything? Why?

I think the only things I got properly invested in (as in, read more than the first few pages) before setting aside for an extended period of time and don’t plan on finishing before the year ends are House of Leaves and The Crying of Lot 49 - and both of them especially House of Leaves are books that I actually would like to finish, but realized partway through that I absolutely did not have the bandwidth at that point of time to give them the time/attention they required. But one of these years I will actually sit down and read a Pynchon novel from cover to cover I swear… and I should be able to get to House of Leaves in 2024!

25. What reading goals do you have for next year?

I want to read more short stories! I got pretty into the speculative fiction short story scene this year—bits and pieces of various anthologies, finally subscribed to some magazines like Clarkesworld, etc.—and I’ve been having a really good time with it, so next year I’d like to keep that energy up. I’m also hoping to finish House of Leaves as previously mentioned!

#thanks for asking! sorry it took a while to get around to answering… so many things have been happening in my life the past few days #but fortunately the horrors are now at an end so i am back in full force! #also i know it’s been a minute since i reblogged the game in the first place but if anyone else happens to want to send an ask feel free :) #ask game

[twirlybumblevee]

I stole this from @bottleofchaos

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

71 right now! (man I've been here for a long time, haven't I...)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,077,321

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently it's Dteam (adjacent) and Tolkien's Silmarillion, in the past most notably Marvel (plus various others)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Oh boy. First, and by a mile, we have Sign Dirty to me and its sequel As loud as our hearts (MCU, Steve/Bucky modern AU where Steve is deaf and they meet under... embarrassing circumstances), then the next with not even half as many kudos is No other version of me I'd rather be tonight (Larry famous/non-famous AU), then a fic called First Sons and Superheros (Johnny Storm from the Fantastic Four meets troubled gay president's son TJ from Political Animals), and then Cross the Line which was just a silly little MCU RPF get together fic but yeah, everything MCU related went HARD back in the day.

Everything and many others found here.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always!! It sometimes takes me a while but I never ever leave comments without a response over - if you see them, I just haven't gotten around to them yet. I think it's only fair - if people take their time to leave comments, I should show just as much appreciation back by responding. (That's why I don't comment on fics where I see lots of comments that have never been responded to because I just think it's rude.)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh man that's got to be the Silmarillion stories. Nightfall ending with murder and the dying of the Light (of the Trees), Shards that goes to incredibly dark places (but all the stories in that series aren't happy).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Ever a surprise / Ever as before where DNF literally life in a fairytale and get a fairytale ending. :D (Taizi and I did our best. <3)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I remember once in an MCU Steve/Bucky fic there was a big discussion going on in the comments about an aspect of therapy in the story, but that was the height of it. It never went into hate territory.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Oh absolutely. XD Not sure I understand the question though, what kind. The sexy kind? Wholesome, sweet, kinky, dark, I've written it all.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have! The crasiest was probably First Sons and Superheroes (mentioned above) that sort of founded a whole new branch of fandom at the time. The premise was good though.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

There have been several requests over the years, yes

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Constantly. XD I think 95% of fics on my account have been co-written. I don't know how to finish stuff by myself.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship

Mae/Fin and Tyelpe/Annatar (Silmarillion), but DNF is up there as well for sure :)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

The Holiday. It's a Remus/Sirius fic based on the movie and there's only ONE CHAPTER MISSING and I still get comments on it even years later and they're all so sweet and I always feel so bad about it and I wish I could finish it but I'm so out of the headspace. Maybe one day. Not giving up hope.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Worldbuilding. Picking things apart until everything makes sense. Believable character/relationship progression especially in adversary, I'd like to think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Motivation and drive, for sure. I was never able to write big stories by myself, I always needed someone to do it with. I WISH I could, how cool would that be. But I just get too distracted too fast by other things.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I can only write in English. German, I guess, I am a native. XD But I haven't done that in forever and the thought of it just makes me cringe.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Lord of the Rings

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

That's the meanest question. I have so many favourites, DNF ones as well, so many amazing ones that have never even seen the light of day on AO3 for one reason or another. I think overall I am the most proud of all the Silmarillion stories because they all belong in the same universe and span thousands upon thousands of years and so much worldbuilding and progression.

If you want to do this yourself, please feel tagged!! This was loads of fun. :)

#tagging game

[sootyships]

yo.

i'm soot, my current main focuses are mcu ultron and eric from divergent, and i have written too many self-insert/savage opress (star wars) fics

in addition to self-shipping, this blog contains personal posts, finnish shit, judaism (i'm, eh, ~ yir'ei elokim for now) and the occasional finnish current events, but for the most part no heavy topics. tagging is inconsistent but i try to tag negativity as #negative.

pillowfort - cohost - bluesky

(his nickname here is vaash, and that's also his tag (#vaash).)

i also adore:

... and then some?

i don't mind sharing. AUs and polycules exist. ✌️

this is a discourse free zone. i'm not here to promote infighting.

no dni, i'll just block if i don't jibe with someone's vibe. apply the same principle to me, ty. 👍

i'm not here to parent other ppl's kids, i'm not getting paid.

i don't look for dnis unless i'm interested in following. sorry?

i may draw sometimes. and once i wrote the following:

my S/Is:

Gi Kast (Star Wars, with Savage since Aug 2019, married with children) #savalorian au #savagi

Vinnie (SU, with Jasper since July 2019) #serpentineverse

Mikitta (Marvel, in a polyship with Mayhem and Ultron since July 2023, may have a kid or a few in some 'verses) #ultimate mayhem

Bo (Divergent, Eric's fave Dauntless individual since March 2024) #cb2o au #boric

my fankids:

Cuyan Kast - Feral Kast - Nyn Kast - Nuhur Kast

Sidzla Ultron-Karamäki - Satu Ultron-Karamäki

rare fictional friend: Nasti Kravinov, a very AU Ana Kravinoff

i also platonically have several emotions about Rocket Raccoon

not a BYF but a FYB (for your benefit)

dnf if you suspect your dni might apply to me. it's just awkward.

I request that people please tag unfilterable shipcourse DNIs in the post body. If it's performatively censored or just an image, it won't be caught by filtering. Ideally, the DNI should be in its simplest form: for example, "p.r0/c.*m-sh.ip go away" gets tagged #proship dni and an "antis dni" banner gets tagged #antis dni. #shipcourse mention or #shipcourse dni are also good options. Thanks, I appreciate it. 💖

updated apr 4th -24

[myimaginarywonderland]

I honestly don't know why anyone would want anyone to go up against Max .

I have seen people make that argument that Daniel and Daniil got a chance at RedBull to challenge a No. 1 driver but people are completely ignoring the context to this.

First off all Daniel got the opportunity because RedBull needed a driver after Webber announced his retirment. Not to dismiss Daniel but it wasn't like he got a chance unlike the odds, this was literally a logical choice. And while he beat Seb, it was never expected of him to be the No. 1 because RedBull was sure Seb would stick with them for more seasons. They probably saw this as a bad season but they never planned to give Seb's spot to Daniel because they didn't believe he would leave for Ferrari which immediately brings us to Daniil.

Anyone that has done research knows Daniil was never supposed to move up and that actually JEV should have gotten that RedBull seat but he didn't because of his hospitalization and the fact that he challenged Marko in a way. Not to mention there was the whole debacle of Daniil being Russian at that time helping with a Russian GP that has been brought up.

And if you want to talk about challenging a driver maybe we should talk about how even though Daniil was objectively better in 2015 and scored their first podium in 2016 he still was the one that was sacked for Verstappen.

The honest reality was that Seb was planned to stay longer and then he was supposed to be replaced by Verstappen a long time ago. RedBull was pushing for Verstappen from the beginning and probably would have put him in that car earlier but they searched for a justification which they found with Daniil's collisions and racing style. He was bound to be booted from the beginning because Ricciardo was just to more hyped driver which meant they couldn't drop him.

I am not blaming this on Max but realistically Daniil never had a fighting chance.

Daniel meanwhile yes beat Seb but was shown up from Max since the beginning and it was clear that there wasn't a fighting chance merely because Max was on it from the moment he went into RedBull.

Daniel never had a fighting chance against Max because Max is simply a greater driver. He was like 50 points of with less races and more DNFs as a rookie in that car.

Daniel technically beat Max if we look at points but no one believes that because Max got more unlucky and was arguably hella impressive.

Daniel and Daniil were both just seat warmers until Max arrived. RedBull never believed Seb would leave and if he hadn't there is no doubt in my mind that Daniil never would have had a chance and that Daniel would have just been a seat warmer until Max. They were never given a chance because it was clear RB wasn't prepared to lose Seb and they were planning Max's seat since even before Max got into F1. They were never supposed to have fighting chance and in a way they hadn't. Daniil was screwed from the start and Daniel was literally shown up by Max from the moment he arrived.

I do not meant to discredit Charles but without a doubt he wouldn't beat Max. Max was a child prodigy who literally from the moment he stepped into a car was a podium contender. Hell, in the season Nico beat Lewis people still found Max more impressive than Nico. There is only on driver that has as impressive of a junior/Carting career as Max and that is Lewis.

Charles is a great driver but he is nowhere near Max level. He still makes mistakes, is still coming to terms with his driving style in a way which you see with him not fully knowing limits. Max has been flawless this and last year even if you don't like him. Charles struggles with many things, the biggest one being his team but he also isn't flawless like we have seen with Max.

We could talk about Lando who we have all seen suggested. While I do think Lando is a great driver, again, I think people underrate how he has never had a challenging team-mate truly. Carlos was a midfield driver, Ricciardo got beat by Lando since he came into McLaren. Oscar is the first challenge Lando truly had but he is still a rookie yet we are already seeing how close he is. We also saw how in 2021 he still made mistakes.

Both Charles and Lando are still inexperienced in a way that Max was never allowed to be which is something I think many people don't understand.

When Max was up against his rookie team-mate, Sainz, he beat him by nearly 3× as much points.

When Max came into RB he immediately was on podium course and won the race. That season he was voted the best driver over the literal champion and was again with less experience and more DNFs just a bit of his team-mate who had two years experience in that team.

In 2017, in the third best car, with more DNFs he was once again just 40 points off his team-mate. He won 2 races which is more than his team-mate and Kimi, who had a faster car with that Ferrari, combined. He won nearly as much as Bottas who was on a Mercedes.

In 2018, Max would have been third, over not only his team-mate but also the two drivers in the faster cars. Max once again won more races then Kimi in the fucking Ferrari. He was nearly as much on the podium as Kimi too. The only drivers who he didn't manage to beat where the world champions fighting for the title.

In 2019, he finally was third behind the Mercedes.

In 2020, Max nearly was second. The only reason he probably didn't beat Val is because of his DNFs.

I won't talk about 2021 but I think people don't understand how much pressure Max has been under since he came into the sport. From his first season with Torro Rosso it was clear he would be the RB driver. And I think since 2018, hell probably even earlier, Max only comparison and rival eventhough they weren't fighting was Lewis. The only one who even had a career close to Max was Lewis and Lewis is literally one of the greats. Max was the benchmark because everyone knew Lewis was unreachable and expect Seb, no one was even be expected to challenge Lewis. Let me make it clear that in 2020, people were supposed that Max didn't beat Valtteri eventhough Val clearly had the better car.

In 2018 when Seb/Lewis were in a championship fight with clearly better cars, the third faster was still Max. Hell, if they weren't winning no one was looking at their teammates but everyone would assume Max would win the race.

In 2017 nearly won as much races as the one of the guys from the fastet team, do you understand that?

This man was under so much pressure because he literally showed his talent every fucking season. He only finished once out of the points in his entire RedBull years if we are excluding DNFs (for me any driver that didn't finish a race is a DNF even if it's the last lap.) Do you know how insane that is?

I am not even a Verstappen fan but Max was on an entire differently league from the moment he stepped into F1 and it was never because of the car.

Charles and Lando may be great driver but they are nowhere near the talent and now also accomplished driver that Max is.

He literally had 2021 to grow and develope from admist his challenges. I don't like to talk about that season but if anything it was probably the point where the Max we see now was created just like 2016 probably was the point which made the incredible beast of a driver that Lewis is.

Neither Charles, nor Lando, nor George would ever beat current Max.

Putting anyone up against him from the young drivers is setting them up for failure because since 2019 Max biggest comparison has literally been Lewis Hamilton. Max was the best after Lewis. He was the one that came behind, hell in 2020 Valtteri was not even considered competition against them.

No other of the young drivers has proven themselves the way Max has and no other of the drivers have had to measure up to a literal 7x WDC.

There are exactly two people on the grid who might challenge Max and even then, I truly think Lewis would be the only competition for him because to be honest it's mostly been Lewis and Max since 2018 up until last year if you really look at it.

I may not like Max but to deny the incredible career that he has had or imply that he would under threat by anyone else other than Lewis and maybe Nando is just silly.

The younger drivers may be great but none of them had to grow like Max did or to measure up to the challenge of beating one of the greats.

#f1 #sorry for the rant but yeah #i may not be a Max fan but I can see he is one of the best #he is going to be like Seb and probably even greater

[lia-land]

House of Flame and Shadow

4/5 stars

*Spoilers for House of Flame and Shadow by Sarah J. Maas

Is SJM incapable of killing characters and having them stay dead??? She really cheapens her writing by choosing to not kill off characters, especially when she has so many main ones. Her other series suffer from this as well. This whole book felt exactly like her other two series. Main character who acquires a position of power and there is a war. Three series with this exact premise. I’m bored. Is there really not more to the YA fantasy/romance genre than this? SJM loves ending with a war, and for the third time, it was so underwhelming. She needs to let go of war plots because she’s not that good at writing them and it leaves a bad final impression. Her writing just feels incredibly formulaic in this book, just as it did in A Court of Silver Flames. So many phrases are repeated and I couldn’t help feeling like it was almost written by AI because of how much of a pattern there was. There’s a difference between having a writing style and whatever this was. I was surprised by the ghostwriter claims until I read this book and can sort of understand it now. Compare this to the first two books in ACOTAR, or the first 2 in TOG. What happened to that author?

My second issue with this book is that ACOTAR was used as a marketing tactic to get more readers for this series. I was hoping for more Rhys and Feyre. Any Feyre. There was such a good opportunity for SJM to make this the most amazing crossover and it wasn’t executed well. I understand that this is not an ACOTAR book, but if I hadn’t read ACOTAR, I would be so bored during most of the interactions between Nesta, Bryce, and Azriel. Actually, even having read and loved that series, I wasn’t that entertained. I want more, and not in the good way that derives from me enjoying it so much that I want more, but because there was so much potential here. Instead, it was just a ploy to get more money specifically for CC. I say this because all the crossover chapters seemed to only exist to attract ACOTAR readers to CC, but there was nothing in the writing that was there to attract CC readers to ACOTAR. Had I not read ACOTAR, I’d still have zero interest in the characters and their world after this book. This was written for a very specific audience. Publishing is a business, after all.

I did like seeing how the Night Court IC comes across to those outside the IC. Again, this is something that I only cared about because I’ve read the ACOTAR series. There’s also a bunch of big spoilers for ACOTAR, so I feel like SJM should have maybe specified that you should read the Crescent City series after, but as I said before, the aim of the crossover wasn’t to attract readers to ACOTAR. Just to CC.

I didn’t like Bryce in this book. She felt like a copy of Aelin from Throne of Glass and I’ve explained in reviews of that series why I dislike her. For a non-spoilery summary: she’s very annoying and has too many secret plans and SJM doesn’t know how to execute that well or when to realize that it’s repetitive. She does it in this series, too. Bryce in the cave in Avallen was so incredibly annoying. I loved that Sathia put her in her place. Even Hunt was annoying in Avallen. I almost wanted to DNF the book during those chapters. And why was Bryce suddenly queen of the fae… that was so random and out of character for her. Just very repetitive of SJM’s other books, as I mentioned above.

Tharion was probably the most consistent character throughout this series. He kind of felt like a copy of Thorne from the Lunar Chronicles. He was the only one who kept surprising me. I think, generally, the fandom seems to think he constantly makes bad choices, but I think that’s a very simplified view. He had to go to the Viper Queen or he would have been a prisoner underwater forever. He had to escape the Ocean Queen and follow the others to Avallen because it’s likely that the Ocean Queen would have given him to the other queens to maintain peace. His reasoning for marrying Sathia also made sense. I think the unspoken reasoning there was that he knew the others might have considered ditching him because they wouldn’t want the other queens on their trails and part of him might have thought that marrying Sathia would mean that they couldn’t cut him off. He felt the most realistic to me.

I still can’t find a reason to care about Ithan. The only real purpose he actually had in this book was so that we could learn more about Jesiba. I didn’t care about the wolves storyline at all and it was so underwhelming. Those chapters felt unnecessary and more like a set up for future series. Like what was the point of Ithan’s character?

I said this in my review of HOEAB and also in most of my TOG reviews: these last minute ‘plans’ and ‘reveals’ are unbearable. When Jesiba suddenly and conveniently explained the amulet thing and saving Bryce’s life, I had to roll my eyes. I won’t digress here, though, as I have said all I need to say on this in previous reviews.

My overall take is that I would have enjoyed SJM’s books a lot more if I hadn’t read all 16 back to back. I’ve just spent the past 3 and a half months reading three variations of the same story and characters. I loved the main three ACOTAR books and was chasing that feeling, but her other books didn’t match up. It seems to be an issue within publishing in general that authors seem to be rushing stories just to get them published. The first two ACOTAR books, especially, had me so hooked. I was hoping for stories of that quality. Perhaps it’s unfair to compare, but SJM pretty much set up the groundwork for that when she chose to use the Night Court crossover as a marketing tactic. I think this series could have stood on its own and would have been better off without the crossover.

In saying all this, I will most likely be reading any future SJM books because I’m invested in the worlds, but I hope we get back the same writing and story quality as the beginning of ACOTAR.

#sarah j maas #crescent city #house of flame and shadow #book review #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #ruhn danaan #tharion ketos #danika fendyr #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath

[alexgasun]

Reading Wrap Up 2023

In 2023 I got back into reading. I loved reading as a child but as I grew older I had less and less time to read. Also I didn't know what to read. When I was in school, classics were most popular but I didn't enjoy reading classic literature. This year, I quit my job and I had a lot of free time. I borrowed my boyfriend's kindle and started reading again. I mostly read fantasy and romance, fantasy romance too. I try reading mostly adult books in these genres because I do enjoy reading some smut.

I've read 102 books in total, DNF-ed 52. So, here is my list of the best, most mediocre and the worst books I've read.

Best books 2023 : 1. The Jasad Heir by Sara Hashem (adult fantasy romance)- this is book 1 in The Scorched Throne duology. Second book release date has not been announced yet. In this story we follow Sylvia, lost and presumed dead heir to Jasad. Sylvia's main goal is to survive. She has no plans to reclaim the throne or help her people who are murdered for their magic.

2. Silver in the Bone by Alexandra Bracken (young adult fantasy, romance) - book 1 in Silver in the Bone series. I'm not sure how many books there will be in the series. There is no release date for book 2. In this story we follow siblings who are searching for Arthurian ring. The world is very well constructed. It's magical, dark.

3. Children of Fallen Gods by Carissa Broadbent (adult fantasy romance) - book 2 in The War of Lost Hearts trilogy (complete). I don't want to write much about premise of this book because I'm afraid to spoil anything for anyone. You definitely need to read book 1 Daughter of No Worlds before you read book 2. Book 2 is told in 3 POVs, 2 of them are connected and one of them is kind of independent. All I will say is that this book is heartbreaking, beautiful, tense and emotional. The ending is my Roman Empire. And it's the best book in the series, in my opinion.

4. Tress of Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson (young adult fantasy romance) - part of the Cosmere series (ongoing) which consists of mostly independent stories. I decided to read this because TikTok won't shut up about Brandon Sanderson. I've seen how thick his books are and I want to avoid them, no matter how great they may be. But Tress of Emerald Sea is about 500 pages and it was a very light read. And, most importantly, so much fun. In this story we follow Tress, who leaves her island to search for her beloved. Such a magical work. It takes you back to good parts of your childhood, I don't know how to explain it.

5. A Sky Beyond the Storm by Sabaa Tahir (young adult fantasy romance) - book 4 of An Ember in the Ashes series (complete). It's a final book in the series. You definitely need to read previous books to appreciate this work. Again, I don't want to spoil anything so all I will say that this is a perfect ending to the series. It wraps everything up, there are no questions left. So devastatingly beautiful, sad, hopeful. I'm tearing up as I'm writing this. I do want to mention that I would not qualify this as a young adult book. There are some pretty heavy topics involved, there is gore and torture (which is described in detail too). Definitely check out warnings.

6. At The End There Was You by Wendy Heiss (fantasy romance). Pretty short novella, not part of any series. The God of Death has announced that he will destroy the world in 7 days. We follow Winter, our main character, as she assists Azriel - a mage in trying to find a way to avoid the end of the world. Beautifully written. Some heavy topics discussed/mentioned.

7. Assistant to the Villain by Hannah Nicole Maehrer (young adult/adult fantasy romance). Book 1 in Assistant to the Villain trilogy (ongoing). The author recently announced book 2 release date (August 2024). This book is a very light read even though some heavy topics are discussed. If you want something "serious", deep. intricate and complicated you should probably skip this one. The main reason why I have it in the list of Best books is because of the romance. I'm a sucker for a slowburn, especially in fantasy genre and romance storyline in Assistant to the Villain is exactly what I want to see. In this book we follow Evie - the main provider of her family - as she works as an assistant to The Villain. The main plotline revolves around the Villain and Evie trying to find out who is the spy in their castle.

8. The Right Move by Liz Tomforde (contemporary sports romance, adult) - book 2 in Windy City series (ongoing). There are 3 books in the series so far, mostly independent from each other with reoccurring characters. In this story we follow Indy, who has recently ended a relationship and needs a play to crash and Ryan, who is captain in a basketball team. Just read it.

9. Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez (contemporary adult romance) - book 2 in Part of Your World series (I'm not sure whether there will be more books in this series). You don't have to read book 1 but I do recommend it. The main female character is Briana - recently divorced, overworked. Her brother is sick so she takes care of him too. She's hoping to get promoted in the hospital but suddenly, a new doctor appears! Understandably, initially tensions are high. I must say, this might be my favorite romance of all time. Jacob is the best book boyfriend ever. There is no one like him. His universe revolves around Briana. Sorry, I'm a sucker for simps.

This list was supposed to include one more book but it's published under St. Martin's Press against which there is ongoing creator's boycott. While I'm not a creator and have 0 followers, I still want to support the boycott so I will not be mentioning the book title or the author. Also somehow this list took me almost an hour to write and the post is already huge. Will to mediocre books list in another post

#reading #books #reading wrap up