#do people that follow me even know about pavlovs dogs

[planet-dusk]

of cats 'n' dogs // l.mh

all you want for christmas is to try your hand at taking control in bed. you didn't think your unwavering boyfriend would agree; but what he didn't expect was to enjoy it this much.

⛓️ PAIRING :: lee minho x f!reader

⛓️ GENRE :: smut

⛓️ WORD COUNT :: 2.2k

⛓️ WARNINGS :: dom!minho tries subbing, bratty sub!minho, soft dom!mc, praise, bondage, oral (m + f), edging, unprotected sex, cum eating, descriptions of subspace

⛓️ NOTE :: 18+ minors dni. the characters don't represent real people. this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. don't edit, copy, repost or otherwise steal my content.

📍 skz masterlist

“Stop teasing," Minho groans when you lick a wet stripe from his navel to the waistband of his shorts. 

"Why? You told me I could do anything I want today, kitten." 

He rolls his eyes at the pet name but you notice the way the tips of his ears turn red. Normally, you’d be in his position: strapped to the bed and at his mercy. He’s always been the dominant person in your relationship (at least between the sheets) so you aren’t expecting him to give in without a fight. He might’ve agreed to this but that doesn’t mean he’s going to offer himself to you on a silver platter. 

And if he thinks you don’t have it in you? Then he’s dead wrong. And you’re determined to prove it. 

“Either way you don’t have much of a say in this. Unless you want to use your safeword?” 

Minho rolls his eyes again. “Continue.”

You ignore his command, moving back up his torso to swirl your tongue around one of his nipples. 

“What are you—ah!—doing?” He kicks his head back when you tug the sensitive bud between your teeth. 

“I thought you’d have more self control than this.” 

“And I thought you’d be all over my cock by now.”

You grin and palm him through his shorts, delighted by the way his eyes widen. “You’re liking this a little too much, aren’t you?” 

“Just a compulsory physical reaction. You’re near me, I get hard.” He shrugs. “Pavlov.”

“I’m sure those dogs were better at following orders, though.”

He grimaces. “Less talking and more—” he gasps when you squeeze his cock again, “—of that.” 

“Hmm, love it when you beg.”

“I didn’t—”

The words die on his tongue when you wrap your lips around his clothed length, mouthing at the head. You can faintly taste the precum that’s wetting the fabric of his shorts. You’ve been teasing him for nearly an hour now, never touching him below the belt. He must be so hard it’s starting to hurt; his heightened senses send in overdrive by the sudden contact even with the layer of cotton in between. 

You might’ve teased him about his self control earlier but you’re impressed by how long he’s holding out. He’s right; if the roles were reversed you would’ve started begging for his cock a long time ago. The only thing keeping you from straddling him right now is your conviction. You’re thankful he’s restrained so he can’t feel or see the wetness pooling between your thighs. 

You’re starting to understand why he enjoys being a dom this much.

You trace the outline of his erection with your tongue until the fabric is soaked with spit. Minho’s tugging at his cuffs, clearly affected even if he tries his hardest to hold back his moans. 

“Just—fuck.” He sounds exasperated now. “Just touch me.”

“I’m touching you.”

You suck a dark bruise into his thigh. They’re so big and strong you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day between them. Looking up at him with innocent eyes, the scowl you receive in return communicates something along the lines of you know what I mean. 

“I’ll take them off when you’re a good boy. Behave.” 

“So I really am the dog in this little experiment of yours, aren’t I.”

“I liked calling you kitten but I suppose pup could work.” You trace the muscles in his thigh with one hand before giving the flesh a harsh slap, making him yelp. You watch it jiggle while his cock twitches at the same time. Another tiny crack in his demeanor you file away for later. “Now are you gonna comply or do I have to put a muzzle on you?”

“Fine,” he mutters. He stares at the ceiling as if he’s never seen a more interesting surface before. 

You halt, suddenly unsure of what to do. Did he really give in? Or is this another scheme of his? 

“Well?” He squints down at you. “Cat got your tongue?”

And just like that he’s flipping the script again. You mentally scold yourself for hesitating. It feels like he’s always one step ahead of you. You’re inexperienced when it comes to playing this role and he knows it. 

You need a more direct approach. 

“No cats here.” You make a show of sticking your tongue out as far as you can, dragging it over his thigh. “The dog may get one more chance, though.” You suck another bruise into his skin before pulling back. “If he stops barking.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” 

You ignore him, no longer feeling like giving in to his endless quips. You can almost hear the cogs turning inside his head as he tries to figure out your next move. 

From the way he moans when you suddenly wrap your lips around his clothed cock and bite down, this wasn’t what he was anticipating. 

“I’ve changed my mind. Let me hear you.”

Your fingers tug at the waistband of his shorts while you mouth at his tip. He whimpers louder and you reward him by dragging his shorts down his thighs until his cock springs free. 

It seems your intent has finally caught on because the high-pitched, whiny sound he makes when you tongue at his slit is nothing short of sinful. You kitten-lick his swollen head and swipe your tongue along his shaft from base to tip with long strokes. He chases your mouth with his hips as much as the cuffs around his ankles and wrists allow, clearly vexed by not being able to set the pace or touch you. 

“You’re doing so well,” you coo, cupping his balls. “Such a good little pup.” 

His squirming stills and you look up to find his cheeks flushing a deep red. 

Of course. Praise. After all the times he got flustered when on the receiving end of a compliment you should’ve known it would translate to the bedroom as well. But when he’s in his usual dom persona there aren’t many chances for you to praise him until after the act. 

You smirk and stroke his cock slowly. “Oh, so that’s what the big bad wolf likes? Being a cute needy pup for me?”

Minho is watching the ceiling again. “Maybe I just want to cum.” 

“Don’t you wanna be good for me, baby?” you murmur as you collect his precum with your thumb to spread it over his velvety skin. “Keep being such a good boy and I’ll ride you, might even let you fill me up, how does that sound?”

Careful not to hurt him you suck on his balls, taking them into your mouth while your hand slides along his cock. He’s more vocal now; letting out low groans and high-pitched whimpers when you press your tongue against his perineum. 

“That’s it, you sound so pretty like this.” Your grip around his length tightens when you see how responsive he is. “You’re beautiful. My Christmas present. I’ve always wanted a puppy,” you tease while your other hand circles his rim. 

It’s true. And with his hair mussed, cheeks flushed and skin covered in bite marks he looks absolutely delectable. His cock feels heavy in your fist and you can’t wait to sink down on it. You have to press your thighs together to find some relief for the ache between your legs. 

“I’m gonna—fuck—” Minho croaks suddenly and you let go of his cock, watching it twitch against his stomach as his impending orgasm recedes. His head falls back against the pillow. “I was so close.” His eyes squeeze shut when you slip out of your panties and straddle him, dragging your wet cunt over his swollen cock. “Ahh—please—”

“What did you say, pup?” You cup his cheek. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please, no more teasing,” he pleads. You recognize the glassy look in his eyes. It’s the same look you see reflected back at you in the mirror after he’s had his way with you. “I’ll be good, I—” 

He tugs at the cuffs in frustration, unable to form words. You bend over to press a kiss to his mouth. His bottom lip is swollen from his teeth clamping down on it repeatedly. “Shh, gonna give my pup what he wants, okay? You’ve been so good. Gonna take care of you now, don’t worry.”

You moan in unison when you finally sink down on his cock, his hips flush against your ass. Even without prep there is no resistance; your body has been craving this ever since you stepped into bed. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper against his lips. “Pup’s got such a big cock, stretching me out so well. Never wanna get off. Want you inside of me all the time.” 

Minho has never felt this floaty. There’s a static buzz in his ears as his entire world shrinks down to your voice and the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around him. 

The meek whimpers he lets out at your words are addicting. His eyes roll back when you start grinding your hips in slow circles, your clit rubbing against his pelvic bone. “Look down. Look at how well you fill me up.”

He does as you say, captivated by your pussy sucking in his cock as you start bouncing on it. After getting so close earlier you know he won’t last long if you keep riding him like this. And since you’re not used to him being restrained you miss the feeling of his hands on your body. 

“Listen, pup.” His eyes snap up to yours, big and round and pupils blown so wide nearly all you can see is black. “I’m gonna untie you and then you’re gonna make me cum on your pretty cock like a good boy, okay?”

He nods, whining when you get off to loosen the cuffs. You press a quick kiss to his lips. You didn’t expect him to become this non-verbal after his initial mouthiness. You’re so accustomed to his constant witty remarks (both in and outside of the bedroom) this sudden change in demeanor is worrying you a little. 

“Everything okay, pup?” you ask, massaging his wrists. “Color?”

“Green,” he answers, kicking off his shorts. “It’s… going to be a lot to process, but I feel good. I trust you.”

You smile and press another kiss to his lips.

“It’ll be yellow if I don’t get to cum soon, though.”

You laugh at his cheeky grin. It’s good to see his wittiness is still intact. 

“Watch your tone, pup. Or I’ll cuff your hands behind your back and make you eat me out for another hour.”

Minho groans. “I’ll take all the pussy I can get.”

“So desperate,” you recline against the sheets and guide his cock between your legs. “I like it.”

He follows you without a word, closing his eyes when he sinks back between your velvety walls. You feel so wet and warm around him he has to use all his strength to keep himself from blowing his load as soon as he starts moving. His head drops into the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Who would’ve thought my fierce kitty could be such a good pup?” you hum into his ear. He likes to pretend otherwise even though he’s never been anything but soft. So all of this doesn’t really come as a surprise, but you revel in the way your words make his hips stutter. 

“And good pups deserve a reward.” You tug his earlobe between your teeth. It earns a low groan from him. “Do you want to choose yours?” 

Minho can feel himself slipping away again. He leans back and his unfocused eyes take you in. “Wanna fill you up…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “And eat you out after.” 

“You don’t have to—” you start but he cuts you off. He grabs your hips and tilts them so he can thrust into you deeper. The new angle has the head of his cock brushing against your most sensitive spot and you moan at the sudden pleasure flooding your body. It’s only a taste of what he can do but it feels fucking delicious already. 

“I want to,” he assures. “Let me make you feel good, wanna cum, please—”

You’ve never seen him this desperate before. His brows are tightly knit together. His voice is wavering. You realize he’s waiting for your approval—no doubt using all his willpower to keep himself from reaching his high while your tight hole clenches around his cock. The knowledge he’s handing this power to you is almost enough to send you over the edge. 

“Cum for me, pup,” you order and he does so with a sob, spilling his warm seed inside of you with a few short strokes. He stays there for a moment, trembling as you wrap your arms around him and kiss his temple. You let him catch his breath until he wriggles himself out of your hold to settle between your spread thighs. 

You feel his cum dribble out of you until it’s intercepted by his flat tongue sweeping through your folds. You whimper when he sucks on your clit and pushes his face closer into your cunt. 

“I’ll be your good pup,” he grins while he sinks two of his fingers into your hole, “then you can be my kitten again.”

#merry christmas! #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #lee know smut #lee know x reader #sub!idol #dom!reader #switch!idol #sub!stray kids #;skz longfic

[wannaeatramyeon]

You hit the nail on the head! I‘ll ask for more professional assessment: honest opinion on Crystal?

Following on from my ramblings about Sally Park. Oops! Edited to add in Zoe too.

Well written female characters in Lookism? Uhh...

When the bar is at an all time low, it's really not hard to step over it.

At this point, I've been pavloved to think that any female character that expresses a personality trait other than 'simp' is pretty good. Simp is fun when it's part of a list of characteristics (Zack, Ryuhei). Not so much when it's the only thing.

Long live PTJ, the greatest feminist. Anyway.

Female characters I like

Mary Kim

Love her. Empress of 2 seconds. Queen of my heart.

Surprisingly kept a platonic relationship with Vin Jin, showing quite a healthy mixed gender friendship. Sassy and smart. Loyal. Good taste in men (Jace). Is shown having a life and interests outside of a man.

On my hands and knees praying that PTJ doesn't ruin her. Kinda glad she hasn't appeared in a while so she is kept away from his incessant need to turn everyone into a love interest.

Lua Im

Once we got over the odd Johan panels, which I heard the Korean audience didn't like and I'm quite happy about, she's fine. And it's not that I care that much about Johan staying a single dog-dad, I just needed a coherent reasoning/build up why they would be interested in one another.

Lua has potential.

Sourcing intel, even impressing the likes of Gun? A little Muay Thai knowledge? Jake and Jerry scared of her? Lol. Ok. Good. Let's build on this.

Just please don't white knight her.

Crystal Choi (meh)

And Ms. Choi, because anon specifically asked. I really don't mind her? I know she's meant to be anti-Lookism but still judges people based on their looks eh. That's fine. Pretty realistic actually. Whatever.

She can be a bit bitchy for no reason. So can I. Handwaving all that.

What I do take issue with though, is her so called title of Business Genius. Please show me the chapter where she actually does something to earn that title besides the one where other people ooh-ed and aah-ed over her in the meeting with DG.

Wow she's sooooo gorgeous. Ok good for her. If that's the route they're taking her character then at least OWN. THAT. SHIT. Use her beauty and looks to sign deals and get what she wants. GOOD. DO IT.

Zoe Park (also meh... Wait)

Sorry anon, I think 'really well written' is a bit of a reach... She does have some decent character development, starting as quite a flighty, shallow girl and then showing that she has a heart of gold, liking both Daniels and. Huh.

Wait. You're right. She is pretty well written. She's selfless and kind and loyal to her friends, putting up with Logan's bullshit. There's enough of a character arc for her from the Zoe we're introduced to at first.

And I do like that she's good at maths too.

Wasted potential

Minseong Kang (Jake's momma)

Appreciate this is the older generation and from a much more conservative culture. Saying that, I am so over the slighted and bitter housewife rotting at home while her big powerful husband cheats on her.

And then some sort of marriage redemption cos they pop out a kid. Whatever. (Sorry Jake bb, I love you).

If you were going to do that, give me the most toxic red flag shit where they are constantly at each other's THROATS. Show me how they are equals. Can't live with or without one another. That's the good kinda shit.

Leonn Lee

I just. What the fuck was this.

A girl in Burn Knuckles? A group that reeks of testerone and (positive) masculinity? Show us why she joined! Show us why she stays. SURPRISE. Main character trait?? Having a crush on Vasco.

She could have been SO interesting. And she obviously trains, why not get her to fight?

Hate for irrational reasons

Joy Hong

Listen, she's not really in enough or significant enough for me to really feel one way or another about her. BUT. The reason I HATE her is because I was trying to write a headcanon involving everyone and then I got to Joy and I was STUMPED.

Sub in a plank of wood, and it would have the same depth of personality.

Truly. Who is she apart from Jay's sister and a Daniel simp? At least everyone else has something.

Others

I don't really think about them. Sera Shin has potential I guess.

And of course a special mention to Daniel's momma. She's not exactly a unique character, but who doesn't love her?

LET. THEM. FIGHT.

Lastly. Why can't we see women fight? Like the men's fights are realistic LOL. Ultra instinct? Smashing through walls? So why are women fighting men outside the realms of this.

And yes yes. Men are SoOoOoOo strong. But can they take a kick to the balls?

Are you saying Gun Park has been training his dick and balls and would be able to eat a hit there? He wouldn't go down like a heap of shit??

HUH. TELL ME THAT.

In Summary

Mary by and large is pretty well written. Lua has improved.

I don't care much about anyone else.

And I wanna see Gun, Goo, Sammy, Vin etc. get kicked in the balls in a fight.

#is this my most disjointed rambling yet? quite possibly #if you made it to the end you sincerely deserve a medal #sorry if i've completely forgotten about any female character development loooool my bad #and sorry every time I refer to the women as females it makes me feel incel-y #lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lua im #mary kim #crystal choi #leonn lee #minseong kang #joy hong #wannaeatramyeon

[cutest-big-dragon]

Yo I did some thinking in the shower, right, and I was just thinking about how helpful it is to look at humanity from a non-human perspective. Kind of like those cartoon aliens. "Oh, so you humans kill each other over concepts that are debatable at best?". It really allows you to step back, and really understand what's helpful. I mean, like, completely abandon societal rules, or even what you think is morally good or bad for a second, and just.. question it.

In my experience:

An example is I don't know if I'm poly, right? Then I think, well, why do we even have relationships in the first place? I'd wager it's mostly because of joy that we feel from it. On a most basic sense, we date one person so we can get a consistent feeling of support/happiness/serotonin from someone. Our brain rewards us for these actions, so like Pavlov's dog, we follow. Humans are social creatures, and need others to learn from, survive, etc.

And for me, I get the most joy helping others feel happy. Regardless of if they're my partner or not. Which is why I believe I was confused about polyamory. I love helping others, not necessarily the person themself, though I always enjoy other people.

Then, what commonly happens is an issue I normally have. The other person loves the happiness and comfort I give them, then they confuse those emotions for love with me specifically. They feel the need to keep me around. The best way to do that, tends to be a relationship.

And normally, because it makes them happy, I go into a relationship with them. It always feels good at first, but then I realize I really enjoy helping everyone. And I then feel like.. a shitty person. I never really have an explanation why I feel like I don't love them anymore.

That's cause the answer is that I love everyone, and it feels wrong to limit my love to one person. Even if they need it, a lot of other people also need love!

It also, though, tends to hurt people sadly, however the best medicine is preventative. If I just.. explain to people all the stuff that goes on with me, maybe they'll understand that I'm a committed person, but committed to helping everyone.

I've never really understood the difference between romantic and platonic love anyways, to be honest. Most people's romantic interests are their friends, and most married couples say "we're essentially just committed best friends!". (At least, I've heard that a lot)

So, basically to wrap this up (kind of):

I'm probably not poly, but it doesn't mean I'm not romantically attracted to anyone. If anything, the opposite. I'm attracted to everyone! Yes, even you :3

I want to continue this entire post btw, but I'll do it in follow-up posts, for my many ways of thought. :3

#mental health #love #philosophy #budget philosophy #relationships #polyamory

[thoughtsinblue]

Orange Tango and Impermanence.

Back in my Johnny Bravo and Powerpuff Girl days, ice-cream was a rare occurrence, a treat, a once-in-a-while marvel of sugary satisfaction. But for most of my life, I've always correlated ice-cream with an acute sense of betrayal. For the longest time, I never experienced a sense of security in my choice of flavor, right until I adopted Mint and Chocolate-Chip as my go-to flavor at Baskin-Robbins. I remember my first betrayal. I used to get "Orange Tango" at B&R. That was my go-to flavor for years. One fine evening, as my parents and I exited from the theatre into the food court, we went to B&R, as was our ritual. My father knew me well. He didn't have to ask me what flavor I wanted. But, when my father placed our order, the employee replied with, "Oh, we don't have that flavor anymore." Turns out, I had Tango'd my last Orange. (It's not that bad of a joke, please.) I didn't have any ice-cream that day. I was devastated. I never got to have Orange Tango ever again.

When I think about it, maybe I just expected Orange Tango to always be there. It never occurred to me that I'd live to see a day when my favorite ice-cream flavor would just simply cease to exist. We take so many things for granted. We like to believe in the indefiniteness of things and ideas and people, only to realize that we've once again wrapped ourselves in a veil of delusions, just so we could maintain a semblance of control over our surroundings. Control, that we don't and won't ever possess. Things, ideas, and people are, by the very virtue of their existence, definite and limited. Yet we never seem to learn that lesson.

I truly envy those who can live in the moment. I remember this amazing snack back in the day called "Choco Bytes." It was sensational. Little pockets of wafer-like outer layer filled with chocolate. Not too sweet, just right. On my way back home from school, I'd buy a pack of those to have after lunch because I never liked vegetables, and I basically used Choco Bytes to Pavlov's-Dog myself into eating vegetables. I don't remember what they tasted like anymore, but I do remember looking forward to eating them. I remember being excited, until one day, just like Orange Tango, they too were discontinued. At first, I cursed my local shopkeeper for not keeping it. Then, I found out that it was discontinued altogether. First came Denial, then came Anger, followed by Bargaining, and after years of desperation, Acceptance.

Milan Kundera once wrote, "Einmal ist keinmal," - "What happens once might as well not have happened at all." I find this quote to be a critical insight into our lives. Here we are, completely lost to the value of once. We never seem to exist in the moment, never satisfied with once, chasing the dopamine rush like the addicts that we truly are. It doesn't help that we as a generation are absolutely addicted to social media. We try to live our life out as reel. In a twisted sense of instant gratification, we do things that we don't necessarily like but things that get attention. Even this supposed attention isn't exactly as straightforward as we think. It's rather an inquiry into how the other person could replicate that particular aesthetic.

It's ironic that I'd dish out poisonous opinions about social media, knowing full well that I'll share a link to this piece on my Instagram. But then again, nowhere is the truth any more illuminated than in one's own hypocrisy, no?

"Oh simple thing, where have you gone?

I'm getting old and I need something to rely on."

- Somewhere Only We Know, Keane

#ice cream #nostalgia #childhood memories #baskin robbins #betrayal #impermanence #living in the moment #acceptance #milan kundera #quotes #life lessons #social media #hipocracy #essay

[heart-of-copper-dog-training]

Journey of a crossover trainer

We've all heard of the traditional methods of dog training. Plenty of us learned that to use corrections was to "follow nature's communication", as dogs use their teeth to communicate in nature. There was that famous study on the captive wolves (that has since been debunked) that taught us to "be the pack leader" and the "alpha" of our pack.

But what does the science say? Well, if you've kept up with the ever changing landscape that is dog training, you'd know that many of these traditional methods have been shown to be detrimental to the general well being and mental health of your dog. And yet these methods are still being pushed in training today. Let's look at a few reasons why.

They "fix" aggressive/undesirable behaviors. Well, I suppose a behavior is "fixed" if it is suppressed. In many dogs, aversives do indeed quickly correct a behavior that is undesired, such as barking, lunging, biting, pulling, etc. And in some dogs, this suppressed behavior will remain suppressed and never appear again. It's not unheard of that a dog can be forced into a mindset of learned helplessness. But what about the dogs that don't maintain a suppression? Well, those are the dogs that "bite without warning." Labeled as "zero dogs", these dogs have been taught not to give any warning, not to communicate discomfort or distress. These dogs learn that the only thing that "works" is to go straight for the most extreme answer. Unlearning suppression is much harder than avoiding it all together, but many in the training communicate continue these methods because when they get quick results. And who doesn't want that?

It teaches dogs respect! If respect is defined as a fear of misstep and fear of punishment, then indeed it does teach respect. We get this idea in our heads that obedience is exactly what it sounds like: strictly abiding by the rules we've set. Whether that rule is "sit when told" or "off the couch" doesn't really matter, if the rule is broken, it's disobedience and therefore disrespect. But that's not how dogs think. A dog doesn't refuse to sit because it's disrespectful. It doesn't sit because there is a break down in communication and training. Is the behavior generalized? Is the cue clear? Have there been missteps in timing or signaling that has caused general confusion? Was the reward more interesting than the nearby distractions? Did we properly fade the treat over time? Was the cue even fully understood to begin with? If we, as guardians and trainers, mistime our rewards, mess up our signals, don't practice the cue in higher levels of distraction and locations over time, we are failing in training the dog. It sucks to hear that, but it's not the dog's fault we've messed up. So, stop thinking of it as "obedience" training, and start thinking of it as "cue training". Dogs are animals, not robots. We brought them into our space and it's up to us to guide them in navigating the confusing world they're expected to exist in.

It's how it's always been done. Okay, that's a hard argument to fight. Unless you actually research the history of dog training. We discovered operant conditioning several decades ago. Pavlov established classical conditioning, a technique used to work with reactive dogs. But even if we ignore that, the argument sounds really silly if we reframe it. Let me know if you've ever heard this from someone: "I was spanked and I came out fine", "We never used car seats and you survived", "We used to have chicken pox parties, none of this vaccine junk. We survived just fine." Well, sure, plenty of people DID come out fine from being spanked, not using car seats, and having chicken pox parties. But many died in preventable car wrecks or didn't get proper immunity from the chicken pox party and got it as an adult, which is far worse than the childhood disease. And many of those children who were spanked don't talk to their parents now, as the relationship and trust was fractured when physical punishment was brought into it. We did what we knew was best with the information we had, and there's nothing wrong with that. But now that we have more, better information, why not put that to use? There is no shame in learning from the past or from our own mistakes. It's okay to have made mistakes! But now we can move forward better equipped to handle the future.

It gets quick results! Yes, and as discussed above, it creates future larger problems. You can't just slap a duct tape over a leaking pipe and assume it will hold forever. Sometimes it does. Most of the time, the pipe will burst. It's better to just work with the problem at hand rather than ignore it for future versions of ourselves to deal with. Be kind to your future self, and work on the underlying emotion beneath the behavior.

It's not manly (yes, I've heard this one). Well, I honestly don't know what to say about this one. I would say that dog training and behavior modification are techniques, and techniques don't have genders. My other rebuttal would be to ask what is it about a technique that makes you feel unmanly? If your gender identity is so easily undermined by following science and positive reinforcement behavior modification and training techniques, then maybe you need to reevaluate what it means to be "manly". Because plenty of men seem to do just fine being kind without feeling unmanly.

And finally, it's too hard. Yeah, it is hard sometimes. That's why you hire an expert to help you out. Timing is hard to get right. Patience is hard as we wait for more progress and better cue response. Techniques can be complicated when we're looking for long behavior chains to create a cool trick or even just house training (have you ever thought of house training from the pov of a dog? I'll have to write about that later). But it's so rewarding when it's done right. And there are more resources than ever for us to reference and learn from. We aren't alone in this world of dogs and people coexisting peacefully. Change isn't easy. Keeping up with the modern research isn't easy. Anything worth working for is never going to be easy. But that doesn't mean we don't try and do better.

I learned how to dog train with aversives. I know exactly how to use that choke chain, slip lead, e collar and many other aversives. They really aren't hard to use when used with proper timing. And I've trained dogs with them. I was doing the best I knew with the knowledge I had at the time.

But I've learned from then. Since then, I have worked with the "hard dogs" that many balanced trainers say are impossible to work with using only positive methods. I've been told positive reinforcement trainers are "click and treat" trainers that don't know how to work with the "real cases". That we're only good for "trick training" and "obedience" (a term I don't even like using any more).

So here's the thing: it is harder to NOT use aversives. It takes more time, effort, and patience to work through these behaviors and to train a dog good leash manners and other cues using only positive reinforcement. But take note: it is NOT impossible. I should know. I've done both. And only one of these methods actually "fixes" anything.

I've outgrown those tools and thrown them out. It's time for us to take accountability and to grow up. I will not shame anyone for past mistakes. No one is above mistakes. Even now, I have made mistakes, but I take the time to learn from them.

"Failure is only the opportunity to begin again. Only this time, more wisely." - Uncle Iroh, Avatar the Last Airbender.

#behavior modification #dog trainer #dog reactivity #positive dog training #dog training

[lyra-of-the-starss]

Dream destroying Tommy’s stuff on the daily so that he ends up expecting it and willingly throwing his stuff on the ground

Or as I like to call it, The Dream’s Dog Experiment

#/rp #I took a psychology class last year :D it was pretty POG #do people that follow me even know about pavlovs dogs #it’s actually really cool you can look it up if you want #I will gladly explain it if anyone asks #mcyt #dream smp #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken

[ringmyheart]

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

[enthusiasticsobrietyabuse]

Re-post from r/MeehanSurvivors Reddit Community. An Enthusiastic Sobriety Counselor Survivor Story.

TW: References to child pornography, conversion therapy, homophobia, masturbation, and sex.

I would love nothing more than to preserve my admiration for the program, if only for the reason that it would be easier to do so, but after years of being deceived, I find it utterly absurd to disregard any contempt on the basis of the misplaced gratitude that it saved my life. While the program undoubtedly contributed to my success in a number of ways, it has nevertheless become clear that I’ve walked away with trauma that, even after all of this time, I fail to wholly understand. What I do know, however, is that my disillusionment with enthusiastic sobriety is heavily rooted in how I was treated, as the people who claimed to love me evidently made it their mission to eradicate who I was and, likewise, transform me into a duller, lesser version of themselves. I will never know who I could’ve been had they honored the parts of myself that needed nurturing, only who I am today and the damage I’ve since been left with.

From the moment I joined the program, I knew exactly what its expectations were. It was made abundantly clear throughout the treatment process, where I was bombarded with endless conversations about what it meant to be a winner - a concept given context far beyond a sober individual working the twelve steps. I was not only told how to behave, but what to believe about every area of my life. It did not matter if those areas were deeply personal, as evidenced by the countless discussions related to sex; in fact, I would not only learn who we could and could not fantasize about while masturbating, but what we could and could not do sexually - as if we could not be trusted to determine for ourselves the actions we take in our own bedrooms. I also found myself on the receiving end of many conversations revolving around whether or not it was acceptable to shave one’s own pubic region, as was a commonly held belief that a shaved pubic region was not only unnecessary, but a product of one’s own vanity that, incidentally, mimics child pornography. Perhaps more disturbing, however, was the ideology surrounding pornography, in general, that we were ordinarily subjected to. We were first told that no self-respecting woman would want to be with a man who’s actively watching porn; then, we were told that it alters a man’s behavior so much that women will be able to recognize whether or not they watch it. The possibility of romance was used as a weapon against us by the counselors, as well as group members, to conform to their principles, rather than allowing us to establish our own and when that didn’t work, personal attacks were their next best option. I remember being asked if I really wanted to be the guy who’s strung out on porn the rest of his life, as if it was some kind of crippling addiction that would keep me from getting anything I ever wanted out of life. Even more importantly, however, it was through these frequent exchanges that I became familiarized with “Pavlov’s Dog Theory,” a scientific study so bastardized by the counselors that it existed solely to explain away the possibility of any non-heterosexual orientation. Being insecure with my own sexuality, it was of course music to my ears to discover that my attraction to the same sex, a perversion as I then recognized it, was the result of watching too much porn and could be easily resolved by the work outlined by the program. For the next few years, I would work endlessly to alter my sexual orientation back to “normal” and apparently did so well enough that I was eventually asked to attend the Meehan Institute of Counselor Training.

When I was in counselor training, most of what we discussed had very little to do with counseling; in fact, the information required to pass the state-mandated test was tossed aside in exchange for the radically inappropriate teachings that came directly from the program itself. Examples of this, of course, include the explanation that non-heterosexual orientations were not only “unnatural” but an expression of one’s perverse desire for instant gratification, usually resulting from either their addiction to porn, as I had already learned in outpatient, or their unresolved childhood trauma. It was also reasoned that an attraction to the same sex was often a natural consequence of being in an abusive relationship with a member of the opposite sex, a belief supported only by the theory that the person, in question, had unlikely resolved their own fear of getting hurt again. Some people were just “pussies” that had decided to seek the “easier, softer way,” an almost comical assumption given that there is nothing “easier” or “softer” about being queer. I would actually be referred to as a “pussy” while sharing to one of the program's many directors that I had sexual thoughts about other men. His solution for me was that since “there is nothing romantic about two men butt fucking each other,” I should spend the time wasted fantasizing about that on where I would like to take a girl on a date. It’s these ways of thinking that we, who’s families spend $5,600 to send us to counselor training, learn for the three months that we’re there. It’s these three months, where we are taught that absurdity is a natural substitute for science, that earn us the right to then counsel others, many of whom are children. I never could've imagined the abuse that would follow, despite the seeds that had been sown throughout the better part of my recovery.

A few weeks after I graduated from counselor training, when I was working the Step One shift, a couple of the program's directors took me away from it to smoke cigars with them. It was there that they talked to me about how I needed to work on developing more masculine qualities, perhaps by engaging in a hobby that was, according to them, “outside of my comfort zone.” Later on, one of my coworkers would lecture me for the way I had reached out to a girl in the group, explaining that she, along with others, might think that I’m gay for agreeing to watch a “chick flick” with her. Another coworker would make fun of me for crying to a song that reminded me of my dead parent, for the reason that it was, according to her, a “gay” thing to do. In one of the monthly purpose meetings, the director made jokes about me being “inside” of another male counselor - something that was received only with laughter. Bob Meehan himself would even tell the training class following my own that while I deserved the upmost respect for taking everyone’s shit, I was probably gay. When I would share how I felt, in reference to these incidents, I was told that my options were either to “change it” or to “own it.” I began to internalize all of this and, due to my own desire to be accepted, I began working even harder to change these qualities that had been deemed unacceptable by those around me. I would later be celebrated in a purpose for denouncing a dramatic television show for the reason that when I watched it, it made me feel like a “faggot;” however, even that wouldn’t satisfy those around me, as my sponsor, who was also my coworker, would suggest that I stop watching Friends, as well, due to the fact that it was the kind of show his wife watched. I would experience similar criticism from yet another coworker who suggested that I only liked “girly shit” for “shock value” and that it was nothing more than my ego attempting to differentiate myself from everyone else. If by now you’re wondering why I even participated in these conversations, all I can say is that it was always in pursuit of becoming a better man and I trusted that the staff had those answers. I couldn't have been more wrong, as I can't help but notice today that what I was subjected to is in direct opposition of the very laws that protect employees from this kind of treatment by their employers; however, in the program, what’s illegal is classified as “spiritual.”

For years, I felt relegated to a subclass of human existence and for what reason? I spent years working on the things that made my life unmanageable primarily because the people around me decided that it was. Furthermore, I was promised that if I stopped watching porn, which I did for years, my brain would rewire itself and I would no longer be attracted to men. As stupid as that sounds now, why wouldn’t I, as an 18 year old, believe what I was hearing from who I only presumed to be trained professionals? I trusted them and really worked hard to take their every suggestion, going as far as becoming a member of Sexaholics Anonymous, despite the fact that I had never even had sex at that point. It was nothing if not incredibly painful to do the same thing over and over again, only to be told to get up and try again by the very people who would describe that as insanity in any other case. I was never once told that what I was doing wasn’t working for me; instead, I was told to try harder. In all of the time I spent in the program, I was never even given the option to try something different until after quitting, when someone told me that my sexual orientation, whatever it may be, was perfectly acceptable and far from a determining factor in my ability to effectively work a program. It took years to hear that, the majority of which were spent somewhere that I definitely should have. That is not only unacceptable but they should be absolutely ashamed of themselves.

Alas, the problem I have with the program is not necessarily that they’ll never apologize to me, but that they lack the self-awareness to even consider it. When I shared my concerns about the program with one of their counselors, he dismissed them with the statement that it’s a perfect program ran by imperfect people and that I should judge them not by their actions, but by their intentions, which coincidentally, contradicts the program’s reliance on a quote from the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous that states exactly the opposite. He also told me that I was angry and resentful, despite the fact that I was neither. When I shared my concerns with another counselor, he dismissed them with the suggestion that perhaps the counseling I received, in regards to my sexual orientation, resulted from how I presented it to the staff. His feedback was not only highly insulting, but a complete bastardization of the facts. Not only was I brutally honest about that area of my life, so much that it's all I spoke of, but I was the client and it was far from my role to ensure that the counselors did their job. I was little more than a child at the time; nevertheless, the implication that my negative experiences were all my fault only served as evidence that any attempt to cooperate with the program, and convince them of the ways in which I was harmed, is futile. Why would I want to, anyway, after years of watching any criticism of the program be rationalized as the delusions of “bailed kids” or “disgruntled ex-staff?” The only answer would be to prevent it from happening again, although to think that outcome is even a possibility appears naïve at best. They’ve made it abundantly clear where they stand, that they’re right, everyone else is wrong, and there’s no reason for them to change anything - lest of course it threatens their credibility, which in that case they only become more insidious in their transgressions.

TLDR: The program not only intrusively dictates the sex lives of their clients, but has proven itself to be particularly unloving toward those who are LGBTQIA+. It is a cultural issue that can not be reduced to a few examples of bad counseling. It is clear that they see no reason whatsoever to change this.

#the insight program #the cornerstone program #the pathway program #the crossroads program #the full circle program #believe survivors #breakingcodesilence #troubled teen industry #clint stonebraker

[miioouu]

AHHHHH IHAVEAGOODIDEAFORASONGTHING! so I’d like you to take a listen to The Bidding by Tally Hall and i’d like to see which one of the fellas from bnha you think would go well with each verse??? Other than that, GO WILD!

Bdhdjd ik you wanted a character for each verse, but as I read through the lyrics i could only think of Baku and Shindo sooo i hope you don't mind 🥺🥺 Thank you for requesting!! ❤️💜❤️

Shindo Yo 😎

"I've been sleeping in a cardboard box Spending every dollar at the liquor shop And even though I know I haven't got a lot I'll try to give you love until the day you drop"

After graduating shindo didn't know what to do with his life. Hero business didn't come easily, despite his grades and efforts he still had trouble. Like the lost young adult he is, he relied on alcohol, drinking his sorrows away. And one might think that his stupid behavior is becauseof his lack of success in the hero world. But it was much more than that. It's his lack of success with you. He didn't have a lot, but he'll give you anything, he'll give you his love.

"I graduated at the top I like to take advantage of the bourgeoisie So if you have a fantasy of being a queen Maybe you should blow a couple bucks on me"

Graduated at the top and yet he didn't live a luxurious life. Instead envying the one who did. Since when did Shindo get jealous? A trick that never left him during all these year was charm, or maybe, some people like to call it "fake". Taking every advantage thrown his way, working for the richest of men and yet, he still found himself too poor for you. You weren't the type of person to flaunt your money, but in this day and age, it's quite obvious eho fantasize on being royalty. With the way you scoff whenever you see him, the way you held your head walking past him, the way you thought you're better than him. Not like he minded, he quite enjoyed your little show. If you want to be a queen, maybe you should let a mere joker entertain you.

"I promise I'll be all you'll need, ever need You'll never have to shop around And I'll give you all you'll ever need, ever need Don't worry, I will never let you down, let you down Don't worry, I will never let you down"

And he knows you're looking for better things, and he knows he'll never satisfy you. But he won't give up, he'll give you love, he'll give you affection. He'll give you understanding and he'll give you fun. He'll give you anything you need, just forget about the money, and give the man his chance.

Bakugo Katsuki 🧡

"I've been training like a Pavlov dog Let my independence out to take a hike All you gotta do is activate my bell And I'll fetch you anything you like"

He was ashamed to admit it. Stong and feared. Intimidating and scary. Bakugo was one terrifying of a man. But when it comes to you, it's whole diffrent story. Like dog that has been trained to follow you around, to depend all his life on you, Katsuki let his walls melt down and turn into the man he always feared of becoming. And yet all you had to do was send him that sweeatest, mischievous smile for him to forget about his image and bow at your foot.

"I've been here like a thousand times Dated every woman in the atmosphere I've been to every continent Broken all the hearts in every hemisphere And if I'm not the type of guy you like to circumvent Just remember not to love me when I disappear"

Bad boy with a bad reputation when it comes to the dating world. Heartbreaker and he wasn't ashamed of it, using people to his own advantage and then throwing them away. From the shy, innocent ones to the bratiest, most troublemaker people, Bakugou has dated a lot of diffrent types, seen a lot of diffrent personalities. And yet, you were special. Ignoring all the red flags, ignoring all the rumors, you kept him beside you, you kept him addicted to you. You didn't run away, you didn't turn your back in him, even when he told you not to fall for him. Was he being egoistic again? Did he really think you'd fall for him? He can only hope that you didn't listen to him, and actually like the harsh boy.

"So many ladies are wanting for mates And the prospects are good, but the date's never great Over here, over there, over where? Anywhere They're too busy with winning the bidding to care And he's sold"

So many people having an eye on Bakugo, wishing they were the one who soften him, they were the one whom his heart melted for. Wishing they were the one he was chasing. And yet they never could handle him the way you do. They never could get him coming back the way you do. Depsite reputation, money, arrogance and weird dependency, you still got him wrapped around your little finger. He'll do anything to just call you his, the man is gone, the man is sold.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #shindo yo x reader #bakugou x reader #shindo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #shindo yo #shindou x reader #shindou yo x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha shindo #lyrics #request

[full-hd-sun]

answer me

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta Characters: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, Nakamoto Yuta, Moon Taeil, Suh Youngho | Johnny, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Qian Kun, Liu Yang Yang, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten Additional Tags: Awkward Flirting, Attempts to flirt, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Firefighters, Phone Calls & Telephones, alcohol mentioning

The Japanese never paid strong attention to people’s voices.

  It started on a cool October season when a hotline operator called him. He reported that a few streets from the fire station, a flat was burning, in which, according to the victims’ neighbors, there were kids and two old humans. Nakamoto thanked him, writing the coordinates and some info on a piece of paper, and, calling the team, moved to work.

  A few days afterward, the same voice reported about a kid whose hand was stuck between the bars of the fence.

  “The injured kid is about nine years old. Previously, he got stuck till the shoulders, as the incident reporter struggled to help the child, but he did not move a millimeter.”

  “Did you find and tell his parents?”

  “No, but the informant told his parents, who know the victim.”

  “OK, thank you for the report. We will get there as soon as possible,” with these talks he instructs his colleague Jisung, who, after passing his eyes over the piece of paper, thanks Yuta and rushes towards the squad. Nakamoto is bad at granting first aid, so he is useless there. He leans back in his chair and stretches, crunching his back stiff because of long sitting. Then he closes his eyes.

  The first thing that comes to his mind is that he has not even started the edge of housekeeping, since because of regular shifts. To get into his room, he must complete a quest from uncleared boxes from pizzas eaten on the go in the morning and scattered clothes everywhere; in most cases, he justifies his job as a firefighter - if you want to take out somewhere on his day off, wake him up first.

  And suddenly the voice of the operator creeps into the image, which anyway attracted him. Usually, when the operators announce what happened, they have a panicked tone, as if it, God forbid, happened in their family. But the tone of this operator is entirely calm, and if the condition was fatal, he announced this in a quiet voice with slight hoarseness; probably talks a lot during the day.

  The loud sound of the phone brought out of his dreams, so Yuta had to open his eyes and in four steps be near the dial.

  “Well, already ... Are you firefighters or who?” he discovers a recognizable and somewhat annoyed voice on the other hand of the line. “Be more gathered,” the same voice reads, and the Japanese just grins. It delights him.

  “Did something happen again?” asks Yuta keeping a pen with a piece of note wide-awake.

  “I’m calling because of a child whose hand stuck in the fence. We called the parents. But they are a somewhat dysfunctional family because they just so violent to me when I told them of the event!” on the last words the operator’s voice breaks down a bit, which touches the firefighter. “So the boy will come to you, and there you will already call the guardianship authorities and all the cases.”

  “Ok, I found out. Thanks for the info.”

  “And be more responsive to calls. A person dies because of your delay in responding, how will you live after that?” the operator says in an instructive manner.

  “Are your parents not dragons by any chance? Then how do they explain that you are such a fire?” Yuta says in a languid tone, and, covering the mic with his palm, he giggles. There is a silence of the phone for a minute, accompanied by a deep sigh, and Nakamoto swears that he can feel the operator rolling his eyes.

  “Excuse me, of course, but did your grand-grandfather teach you how to tackle, or are you so ancient?” the tone is humbler - sweet and smooth.

  “It did not work?” expresses the firefighter in a somewhat agitated tone.

  “Of course not. You have to study and understand the art of a flirt,” here is a minute of silence, “but your voice is as sweet as honey, which I add to my tea.” Yuta hears a gentle chuckle on the other side.

  "Was it a tackle or are you teaching me to tease, mister..." - the firefighter stumbles, because he does not know the name of the operator, he never introduced himself. In response, there is the most magnificent and pure children’s laugh that a Japanese has ever heard.

  “I’ll tell you my name if the next time you pick up the phone when I call,” a voice murmured on the other side,” and now I have to go to accomplish my shift. So let’s try your luck, Big Time. See you.”  and the operator drops the call, leaving Yuta with an idiotic grin all over his face.

            He had never run-up to the phone so rapidly before when it called, picking up a call and holding his breathing, expecting, but it was not him. This was the second week. Some voices were regularly repeated, but the one he lacked so much was seldom on duty. It’s marvelous how much Yuta wants to hear this operator. He rushes headlong, even if he is standing at the other end of the hall, at the sound of the ring.

  When Nakamoto comes to the later shift, having already given up any confidence when the call sounds, he pauses to pick up, but something inside pushes him to receive the call, and he responds to the call.

  - Hey? - he is silent for a couple of seconds, and suddenly it dawns on him that the firefighters should not say in such a way. - Oh sorry. Fire station number one, what can I be ...

  - Well, hello, - the voice says with a laugh, making Yuta fell into a stupor.

  - You…

  - Me, - the firefighter hears on the other side a slight laugh in his voice. - What am I calling. There, several people were stuck in a shopping center elevator.

  Yuta writes all the details and the street and then gives the piece of paper to Doyoung. After making sure he’s gone, Nakamoto returns to the phone. - Well, honey, you were right, I am lucky.

  There is a chuckle on the other side, and the Japanese man quite closes his eyes.

  - You only thought about it all the time?

  - Well, really, you developed a reflex of Pavlov’s dog. I’ve never picked up my phone so immediately, - says the firefighter, sitting down on a chair and throwing his legs over the back of a nearby chair.

  - For a second I imagined you in a collar and with a chain which I hold at the end, - the operator laughs. Yuta just chuckles and looks at himself in the mirror - maybe it would suit him.

  - Why were you not on duty for so long? Probably fell from your home - paradise? - at least in the Japanese's head this tackle sounded cool, but judging by the silence of the operator, it was again a failed number.

  - Now you asked to teach you how to roll from your great-great-grandfather? - the operator imitates the stern voice and then laughs. - But tell him that this is much better.

  The firefighter is glad to understand that he’s already doing better.

  - So, tell me your name, I picked up the phone when you called.

  - Did I say that? - The voice asks in surprise.

  Yuta chuckles in response, straightening his red hair, which sticks into his eyes although he tied it in a ponytail at the back.

  - Well, then I want to take back my promise.

  - Why? Am I unpleasant to you? Don’t you like my voice? - tries to hide Nakamoto’s anxiety.

  There is a burst of sincere laughter that caresses his ear.

  - No, of course not. I just like to play, and you heartily accept my rules - the voice becomes languid, or does it seem so to a Japanese in love?

  The corners of the firefighter’s lips spread across his face in a grin, exposing his fangs.

  - Well, you may be right. I like to hunt you, - taking off his legs from the back of the chair and sitting down, he adds in a whisper: - But baby, take it down a notch, that I am not as simple as I look, - leans back and feeling unbearably good, says Yuta. The operator chuckles in response, and the Japanese involved in this game likes it. He likes that this kid does not so easily fall into the clutches of a predator.

  They were silent for another minute, and Nakamoto felt uneasy.

  - Um ... How are you? - Coughing softly, he asks.

  On the other side, he can hear a peal of chesty, rolling laughter.

  - Are you asking this to talk a little longer?

  - Stealing your time? - Yuta’s cheeky grin grows as he looks at himself in the mirror. - Yes, I’m such a thief. And you, by the way, are also a thief.

  - And why is that? - the operator is indignant, and it amuses the firefighter.

  - Because you stole a piece of my heart. - Now it’s Nakamoto’s turn to laugh out loud while the operator thinks about something.

  - Hmm, it was good, - the voice finally answers, and Yuta, burying his fingers in his hair, conducts through them, pleased with himself.

  - But back to the previous one. It was you who brought me into the game, so I’m running after you.

  - Well, I did not force you to do it.

  - Hmm. Here you are right. I’ll reformulate - I’m running after you of my own free will, - says the firefighter, stretching in his chair.

  - Did I interest you so much? - says the voice on the other side.

  - You don’t even know how much, - the Japanese grins.

  This seems, surprised the operator very much, as he became quiet. Yuta runs her tongue over her dry lips in anticipation of an answer, and when it doesn’t follow, she asks:

  - Are you surprised that your fabulous voice charmed my callous heart and envelops it with the desire to live on and continue your game?

  Nakamoto hears the operator on the other end speaking Chinese and then brings the phone to his ear.

  - No.

  Yuta bites her lower lip as she imagines that voice just got embarrassed.

  - Oh, the dear angel was embarrassed.

  - Not true! At the last word, the guy’s voice breaks again, and Nakamoto smiles triumphantly.

  - Yah? You flirt like a god, but here you were embarrassed by a compliment from me? The fireman purrs, teasing the operator.

  - Yes! I’m not embarrassed! Is a blatant lie, but Nakamoto rolls his eyes and runs his tongue over the gums under his lower lip. He senses how long it takes for the kid to answer, so he’s sure he’s blushing.

  - Good, good, red maiden. I’ve got things going on here, so I have to leave you. Until the next call, - without waiting for an answer, Yuta drops the call and grins triumphantly, exposing his fangs.

  If the kid wants to play, he will suit him. One: one.

          Their subsequent calls were purely working, with no game. During this time, Yuta manages to find out quite by accident that this is operator number 2810. Of course, this information does not bring him closer to revealing the guy, but it pleases him even more because the game continued.

  Unexpectedly, Taeil, their department head, after intercity meetings of all fire departments, decided to put several operators on the first floor of the fire department in which Japanese works. He explained this by the fact that the operator’s department has so little space that they almost sit on each other’s heads, and the first fire department has an empty floor idle. Everyone didn’t care if there were more people or fewer, but Nakamoto, deep down, hopes to see the operator who has been encrypted for three months now and has not been led into his bait.

  Closer to Christmas, some of them already have all the communications that operators need so badly, and somewhere the other day they should announce themselves.

  Everyone goes home, only Yuta and Johnny remain, who, alas, will not be able to spend this New Year with their relatives. They decided to pass the time by decorating the site with a Christmas theme. Youngho takes out garlands and toys from the attic, while Yuta cleans the snow tree in the courtyard to decorate it. Of course, one cannot do without a snow carnage, but Johnny, due to his height, is less agile, so Nakamoto throws snowballs at him from head to toe.

  Decorating something is a favorite of the Japanese. He pleases to create the everyday interior colorful, so on the table near the phone on which he speaks to the operator, there are always animal figures made of wood or any other material, and next to the desk there is a huge pack with Valentines. He works here not so long but has a lot of valentines for that time. He’s a local Don Juan in their little area.

  When Nakamoto helped Youngho get shit off the snow, they set about decorating the tree. Yuta does all, and Johnny only gets to the places where the Japanese could not get it. So for an hour of such friendly work, the Christmas tree lights with a sweet and gentle white light, without eating away the eyes, since this time. Suh took a garland with a less bright light. In a few more hours, the entire department is decorated with socks in which you need to put gifts, Santa Claus, which hang on the walls and, having asked the workers in advance not to close their lockers, Yuta and Johnny throw each a packet of sweets and a small handwritten card with wishes for a Happy New Year and Christmas. The guys also arrange a small concert, turning on New Year’s music for the whole department, and dancing their wild dances, because there is no other way how Yuta “flies” on a broomstick, and Johnny imitates playing the guitar, holding his leg. Suddenly Youngho seems to remember something and slaps his forehead, walks over to the speaker, and reduces the volume.

  - I forgot that we have a club where you can have a lot of fun every New Year’s Eve. My friends invited me there. I’ll go and call them back, ask if everything is still valid, and let’s go there, - without waiting for an answer, Suh went out the door.

  Yuta takes off the jewelry that the elder hung around him and puts them neatly in place. On this New Year’s Eve, he truly wants to call the 2810 operator, but how? Nakamoto slowly walks to the window, looks through the snow-covered window at the sky, noticing the shooting stars. Once upon a time, his parents told him that if you absolutely believe and wish, and when you see a falling star, make a wish - it will surely become true. Nakamoto only smiles with the corners of his lips at these memories, but the Devil may play any trick. He closes his eyes and makes his wish right before Youngho walks back into the room.

  - So, I will make you happy - we have a team, so come on, change from work to normal clothes, and let’s go hang out. You will remember this New Year, - Johnny smiles, mysteriously twitching his eyebrows, which annoys the Japanese a little, but it won’t hurt to try, so let’s go.

  Changing from suit into a fiery sweater that matches the color of his hair and thick black pants, he places a few jewels in his haircut, braiding them into a ponytail, and fixes his naughty bangs with several invisible ones. When Yuta comes to work in this form, he usually hears sighs behind his back about his amazing image. And the Japanese himself dreams of hearing this from his beloved phone caller, whom, though, he counts on to see tonight, because all these conversations of the elders are true, right?

  Johnny, looking at such a Nakamoto, whistled, and thumbs up.

  - Now, besides my boyfriend, you will also glow in the club, - he laughs with joy, picking up his bag over his shoulders. Yuta rolls his eyes at this.

  - There can only be one star on the tree, and that’s me, - he replies, running his palm through his hair and smirking. The Japanese don’t even need alcohol to be so confident and ready to roll.

  - Let’s go then, a taxi is waiting for us, - Youngho points to the exit, letting Yuta ahead.

  Saying goodbye to the few on duty who remained there, they disappear from the fence of the station and get into a taxi. Johnny gives the address and the car moves. As the Japanese one understood - they will go to the other edge of the city. They are silent all the way - Suh writes something to friends and seldom shows some memes to the boy, and Yuta looks at the night festive city. People walk in crowds on the street, having fun and wishing everyone a happy New Year. Someone is dressed in costumes, someone is handing out small gifts, street musicians are singing, there are many booths where you can buy hot mulled wine and warm up. In general, the atmosphere of a holiday is in the air. Nakamoto always spent New Year in his hometown of Osaka, Japan, but he was suddenly offered a promotion and needed to move to Korea. Leaving friends and family, he went to a completely unfamiliar country with great fear that he would not be accepted here, but fortunately, he came across such a boss as Taeil - a truly good person: he can be strict, but he never raises his voice and does not scold him for any then minor misses. He also got Johnny as his partner - just like him, a boy who came from America, who has been working here for four years, but this is their first joint New Year, which they spend together.

  As he thinks about his friends and family, he doesn’t even recognize how the car has stopped, and it is only when Youngho pinches his side that he wakes up.

  - We’re in place, getting out, - Johnny announces, extending his hand. Nakamoto looks around, sees the Neo Club sign, and after thanking the driver, gets out of the car. People around stand and smoke in large crowds, chatting about something of their own, but the entrance to the club is almost deserted, so, after standing in a small line of four people in front of them, they finally enter.

  Suh is already waving to people at the table, is almost at the other end of the entrance, and realizing that only he can see where these guys are, he grabs Nakamoto’s hand and drags him through the dancing heat. It surprises the Japanese to see how already drunken enough bodies are trying to move to the music, how everyone huddles together, and only grins at this - he likes this. Twice, someone tries to grab his free hand, but Johnny drags him along so quickly that Yuta, even if he wanted to, could not free himself from Youngho’s tight grip.

  When they are already leaving the crowd, Nakamoto sees a sofa where five “ready-made” guys are already sitting. Of all of them, he knows only Taeil - their boss and, in combination, the guy So, who, noticing his workers, waved to them and point to a place on the sofa next to him. Yuta is the first to let Johnny, who is near his boyfriend, kisses him nicely on the nose, and again on the lips, placing his hands on Moon’s hips. Later a Japanese man sits down next to him. All eyes at the table are looking at him, but he leans back on the back of the sofa, straightening his hair and showing with all his appearance that he is dad here.

  - This is Nakamoto Yuta, he is Japanese and works with me in the same department. This is the same legendary guy who, appearing on the doorstep, won the hearts of many firefighters. - introduces the guy Johnny, while everyone is looking at the red-haired one. He, it seems, is not nervous in an unfamiliar atmosphere, radiating all his sexuality and blinking innocently.

  -Nice to meet you, - he shakes hands with everyone, eyes shooting, making the two strangers blush slightly.

  -This is Lucas and Kun, - Suh points to the guys sitting opposite, - they were once in our department, but now they are a few streets away, in the third.

  Lucas and Kun smile as they shake the guy’s hands. Yuta realizes that they are only seemingly formidable, especially Lucas. Until he smiled, the Japanese thought he had squeezed something from Yukhei, and that he would now hit his face. Kun is calmer and looks like a bear, Nakamoto wants to pinch his cheeks.

  -And this is Yangyang and Hendery - our operators, - continues to introduce Youngho, pointing to the previously blushed guys. They shake hands and quietly squeak “Nice”, and suddenly Yuta recognizes the voice he sometimes heard in the background when talking to operator 2810; Sometimes Yangyang allowed himself to sing WAP in the background, which surprised Nakamoto very much if the kid knew about the translation, but his interlocutor did not seem to be surprised, because a few seconds after the start of singing this song, Kun appeared and scolded the boy. - They will soon be taken to our first floor. We will have about fifteen operators, right, Moonie? - asks Suh to the boy’s, who looks so sweetly at the American with loving eyes.

  - Yes, we planned more, but the electrician said that if we put them close to each other, this could affect the network and may not get through to the station, - the boss smiles, and Johnny pulls him into his bear hug under the enthusiastic sighs from everyone sitting at the table.

  Then a waiter walks up to them and updates the amount of booze on their table. Yuta hasn’t drunk for a long time, almost a year, but it’s time to remember what the taste of alcohol is.

  While talking about work and plans for this year, everyone is well intoxicated, and Lucas offers to play Uno for wishes. Of course, crazy desires come to a drunken head: Taeil, as the first loser, is told to lick alcohol from Johnny’s press; then Hendery loses and they told him to kiss with Lucas for a minute (as Johnny later explains, Hendery has been sighing for a long time towards Lu, but Wong does not see it, so they decided to bring them together). In the last game, Yuta loses, and having seen enough desires, which each time become more and more vulgar, he is ready to uncover. This time Kun makes a wish.

  -See the guy with raven hair? Come up to him and get his number, - Qian smiles, leaning back on the sofa. Yuta looks around and sees a lonely guy looking at the dance floor. His “victim”, even with his drunken misty gaze, looks great: a dressed shirt that bares a little collarbone, a harness worn over a shirt and lose pants - just a boy for sore eyes. Not doubting that he can easily cope, Yuta picks up from his seat, but sways, since he is helped by Suh, who is sitting next to him.

  Nakamoto walks over to the guy who is sipping a cocktail and just seems to be resting. A Japanese man approaches him and, using all his charm, says:

  - You, by any chance, are not a frying pan? Because you’re hot, - Yuta winks and grins. The boy hung, as he runs his eyes over the body of the fireman and rounds them. Shock can be seen in his eyes. He understood something, but Nakamoto is too drunk to find out, he only wants to fulfill the conditions of desire.

  The Japanese grinned with his trademark smile.

  -Did you swallow your tongue when you saw me, dear angel? - Yuta asks, grinning. The guy is down, as he shakes his head and only briefly asks in a voice a little rougher than his own.

  - What do you want from me?

  The firefighter smiles.

  - Just your number. By the way, your voice is so familiar ... but I do not remember where I could hear it, - at these words the stranger’s gaze becomes insane as if it had been opened.

  - Um ... It seemed to you. Have you heard a few similar voices in your life? - in neat handwriting, despite the anxiety inside, the boy writes his number and hands it to the Japanese, if only he dumped. He smiles triumphantly.

  - See you again, angelic creature, - Yuta says with satisfaction, hiding in the crowd and leaving Sicheng alone.

  “Oh no, it’s hardly him”, Winwin convinces himself. When Yuta is far enough away, Sicheng starts to run and quickly closes the door to the restroom behind him. After washing, he looks at himself in the mirror. He just happened to meet a man with whom he flirted so much, and could not even combine words into a sentence in his presence.

  He replays in his head everything that happened a few minutes ago. Dong recognized Yuta only from his tackle since his voice, in reality, sounds much lower than on the phone, which the Chinese like to goosebumps. This is unmistakably the firefighter with whom they have been communicating so sweetly for many months.

  Winwin imagined him, but not so fabulous ... He once again washed and dried himself with the napkins that hang nearby. This voice, this wink, this grin ... Sicheng is just an idiot that let him go.

            Taking the boy’s number, Yuta says goodbye to him and goes to the company, where everyone is already smeared on the sofa in pairs. He puts down a piece of paper loudly, drawing attention to himself, and sits down next to Lucas. He picks up a piece of paper and reads the contents, and only whistles, showing his thumb. The others clap their hands contentedly. Nakamoto, in his joys, hides the number, or suddenly they want to get drunk to meet his “victim” or call.

  They have been drinking and having fun for several hours, but the drunk guys do not have so much strength to have fun until the morning. And as the most sober, Kun takes them all home, calling a taxi. When the turn comes to Utah, he is already snoring on the sofa, and Qian cannot wake him up, drags him home.

  As soon as he opens the door of his apartment, he dumps the drunken body on a soft ottoman next to the door, closes the door behind him, trying not to make noise. But the Japanese, as luck would have it, wakes up and resents. Qian barely calms him down by sending him to the shower, he will not let him like that on his sofa.

  The firefighter, indignant and stumbling, drunkenly swinging from side to side, stomps in the bathroom's direction. He takes off all his clothes and gets up under a stream of hot running water. It’s very relaxing, but not right now. When he finishes the procedures, he realizes that he cannot get back into the alcohol-soaked things, and wrapping himself in a towel, he goes to look for Kun, who is looking for hangover pills in the medicine cabinet.

  - Kun-a, I have nothing to wear now. Maybe you can borrow something from yours? - asks Yuta, leaning on the corner. Qian clicks his tongue, surveying the Japanese from head to toe, and then walks into the room, returns with a shirt and shorts.

  - Thank you, Kun-a, - Nakamoto was about to climb with his hugs, but Qian stops him.

  - Your pills for the morning and water. I made a bed for you in the hall. Good night, - and leaves the kitchen, turning off the light.

  Yuta remains standing in the dark kitchen, and later, it looks that it reaches his drunken brain. He turns on his heel and stomps toward the audience. Turning on the lights, he puts the water and the pills on the coffee table next to him, while he looks for the phone. After spending ten minutes on this, he even finds him near the ottoman in the hall. From the cover sticks out the tail of a piece of paper on which he had previously written a number. The firefighter chuckles contentedly and calls this number back.

  He gets to the room, turns off the light, settles down snugly on the sofa and dials the number under the light of his mobile phone, but it takes an eternity before the subscriber answers the call.

  - Yes? - mutters a voice with a low tone from sleep, which gives Yuta a herd of goosebumps. He is silent for a minute, listening as the guy on the other side comes back in bed and yawns, emitting a kitty purr. - Are you going to speak, or am I ending the conversation? The voice says.

  Nakamoto wakes up immediately.

  - No. I’m that guy from the club, remember? - the Japanese asks with a heartbeat. Now the silence goes to the other side. The firefighter hears incomprehensible Chinese words, and he is ready to swear that elsewhere he heard it. -When I looked at you, I feel that I have known you for quite a long time. But I just can’t remember where I saw you.

  The second caller is silent and then speaks with a somewhat rougher tone than before.

  - As I said at the club, many people have similar voices. Maybe you imagined it. - Yuta hears how loudly his interlocutor swallows saliva. - Why are you not sleeping? Don’t you work?

  - Yes, I was going to sleep, because in a few hours on shift. - stretched out on the couch, Yuta whispers in a husky voice, which, as Winwin notes in his head, sounds insanely attractive.

  - Mmm ... - all that Sicheng answers. - And I’m going to go to visit my new workplace tomorrow, - says the Chinese, and then realizes what Nakamoto said. The Japanese smile from this.

  - So you are one operator who will now sit downstairs with us? - Yuta asks, remembering his mysterious operator.

  - You make it sound like you already know who’s going to work there, - Winwin says, stretching on the bed.

  - Well, I’m already familiar with three, - the firefighter grins.

  - I’ve only seen you with two, - Sicheng says in a surprised voice. Yuta raises an eyebrow at this.

  - So you saw me with Hendery and Yanyang? - Nakamoto asks. For a minute, his interlocutor is silent, and Yuta bites his lip in anticipation. And then, either from the past tense, or so the shower worked, the gears spin in the Japanese’s head, and he scrolls the vague, but events of the night. After that, his face lights up with a grin.

  - I’m ready to argue, my secret operator, I’ll find you tomorrow, - the firefighter whispers into the phone with the same insolent grin. The silence continues on the other side.

  - No! You won’t find me! - the voice is indignant with slight notes of panic.

  - You will discover, 2810. Sweet dreams, - dropping the call, Yuta has already thought through the plan for the morning.

  Two: one

            Yuta thinks about the plan to expose Sicheng so much that he falls asleep an hour before the alarm clock. Of course, he did not hear it, as did the next three repetitions.

  Only the disgruntled Kun could wake him up, who on his day off wakes up from the Japanese alarm clock at five-thirty in the morning, and to wake the guy up, he puffs water from the spray bottle and scolds. Nakamoto wakes up with the words “Well, if you don’t know how to drink, then don’t drink!”, after which Qian pauses and just glares at him, pointing to the phone.

  The firefighter rises on his elbows, straightening his hair, and reaches out to the glass - the events of last night make themselves felt. Having devastated him, he looks at Kun, who looks at him.

  - Good morning to you and Happy New Year, - Yuta mutters hoarsely as he gets out of bed wearing what his mother gave birth to. - And what happened?

  - Oh, I’ll tell you what happened. First - you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You couldn’t wait till I leave and after that did your striptease? Second - you drunks had very good fun yesterday, so I brought you back home. Third, - he points to the phone, - this devilish brat will wake up even the dead, but not you, and I, by the way, have a day off. Well, fourthly, now it is clear with whom our cute operator was flirting there.

  The Japanese almost falls as he tries to squeeze his leg into his trouser leg.

  - In the sense it is clear?

  - I have ears, I can hear, and I heard your conversation at night, and all the puzzles came together, - Kun smiles.

  Nakamoto looks around the room.

  - But how did you know about it?

  - Well, my boyfriend works with Winwin. And everyone noticed that he had a delightful conversation with someone and more than once at dinner said that he often talks with a firefighter with a charming, deep voice, - Qian shrugs. - And at night, when you were saying goodbye, you called him operator 2810, and I connected everything in my head.

  Yuta runs a hand through his hair, creating even more mess on his head.

  - Oh Qian Kun, oh Sherlock boy.

  He only bows.

  - And now it’s almost half-past six and you’re late for work.

  Today, a firefighter’s bowler hat cooks better, because the meaning of what has been said reaches him, and without even saying goodbye, he flies into the corridor with a bullet, barely putting on his shoes and grabbing a backpack, flies to the elevator. Taeil-Hyung, although his friend, even comes to work after noble celebrations, despite his condition. And after such a walk, he will check Nakamoto.

            After Yuta dropped the call, Winwin’s sleep vanishes.

  He spins in bed for another hour and a half, thinking about something of his own. Sighing, Sicheng sits up, shaking his head and driving away various thoughts. This is not the time to think too much. Then his gaze falls on the clock - only half-past five in the morning. It is very early, but if he lies back now, there is no guarantee that he will fall asleep.

  Winwin rises quickly, and from the sharp rush of blood to his head, everything floats before his eyes. Deciding that the morning shower can relax him, he grabs the phone from the nightstand and heads to the bathroom. By turning on his favorite dance playlist, the guy by any means tries to distract himself from what happened. But the year has just begun ...

  Today he needs to look presentable, as this will be an acquaintance with a new team, although Sicheng deep inside hopes that he will not meet Yuta among unfamiliar faces. The operators wear a loose dress code - a cute New Year’s sweater and black jeans. Examining himself in the mirror, his spinal cord catches someone’s gaze.

  -Aahh, Sicheng-a, have you finally emphasized your sweet side, and not dress like a bad boy? It seems that this firefighter flipped the right switch in your head, - Ten smiles, and then walks to the coffee table where Winwin keeps jewelry, and takes out a cute pendant with a star. He walks up to the guy and puts it around his neck, which makes Dong look so soft that he wants to be crushed.

  - You made a doll out of me, but I have to work, - Winwin mutters into his reflection, glancing at Ten.

  - I’m doing this so you can finally meet your firefighter and stop taking all the oxygen with your sighs about his beautiful voice, - Chittapon shrugs.

  - Oh, okay, it was only a few times, - Sicheng rolls his eyes, and then leaves the room.

  - Shall I count? Sorry, but not enough fingers. You started the game yourself, - says Ten following Winwin down the hallway and then looks at his watch. - Aren’t you too early? Only seven in the morning.

  - We need to familiarize ourselves with a new place, - Dong replies. I just came early to hide and not crawl out of my corner, rushes through my thoughts.

  - Good luck at work and don’t be as hidden as you can be. Especially in front of him, - Ten playfully twitches his eyebrows, to which Sicheng once again rolls his eyes and leaves the apartment.

          Having broken off with all his might to run, Yuta still arrives at the department before the chief. Nakamoto is thankful to himself for always keeping a spare set of clothes in his locker. Taking off his coat, the Japanese goes to the shower. It is an awful smell of alcohol on him, which needs to be interrupted with something. Fortunately, for the same reason, he bought himself a vigorous shower gel with a strawberry scent, which also works well as a shampoo.

  Changing into an elegant white shirt with puffed sleeves and not buttoning three top buttons, Yuta admires herself in the mirror. He twists and turns and then pulls her on his shoulders a little to reveal the view of the chiseled collarbones. He likes to radiate the energy of his grandfather, and everyone who works with him is already accustomed to such a Japanese, giving him a mountain of compliments every time, as if they are seeing him for the first time.

  Suddenly, the phone vibrates in the back pocket of his trousers, and it displays a message from Taeil in their work chat on the screen:

  Meeting in ten minutes on the first floor.

  Nakamoto closes his locker and, winking at himself in the mirror again, confidently leaves for a meeting with the operators, where he intends to reveal the identity of his beloved.

            The department is located not far from his home, so he walks slowly, enjoying the frosty winter air and the New Year’s atmosphere around. With a nice Christmas melody playing through the headphones, Sicheng notices a tree decorated by Yuta and Johnny. He has a well-developed sense of taste, so he has the right to dig into shortcomings because in the previous section it was he who decorated everything, for which their department was called the most elegant and ideal - it was simple and tasteful, nothing superfluous. He walks around the tree from all sides, looking at the multi-colored confetti, which is no longer in fashion, Winwin even manages to spy out among the branches a boot stuck in by someone and a used fire extinguisher, which is hung on a branch by a string. Shaking his head, he realizes that this will be a fun department, and just starts to wait for the others, sitting on a bench and taking out his mobile phone to while away the time playing another strategy.

  He does not know how much time passes, but he senses someone’s presence nearby due to the strong smell of alcohol and his gaze. Sicheng abruptly rises from his place, frightening the person looming over him, but it turns out to be none other than Hendery, but something in his form is not right - he does not push up, as usual, but looks happy and without the jokes on his face.

  - Can I wish you a good morning, or is it better to say good night? - asks Winwin Deri, who with all his appearance shows that he wants to share information about how he spent the night with the very Lucas, with whom they are spreading the site from the excess of stupid ideas that were in their dark heads. - Well, come on already, tell me ...

  - You can’t even imagine who I was with today! We first met at the club, then Kun sent us home, but Lucas told the driver to take us to that hill, from where the most charming view of Seoul opens. And then it turned out that we were both fat-headed fools who were embarrassed to confess their feelings to each other, but did not hesitate to create that crazy game for the entire department. And now we, as it were, are meeting, - the younger almost squeaks with happiness, and Winnie, pleased that everything worked out for his friend, approaches him with open arms.

  - And who are you leaving me to? Now, among all of us, I am the only loner left, - Sicheng says in a mock sad voice, moving away from the guy. - You, hike, warmed yourself too much because from you it smells of alcohol.

  - No, it was Yukhei-Hyung who gave me alcohol for the courage to give him… - Dery muttered embarrassingly, making Winwin touched.

  - Just go ahead without details. Of course, I’m glad for you, but I don’t want to be privy to such secrets.

  - Hyung ... - Kunhang nudges him lightly on the shoulder, and Sicheng just smiles his most innocent smile.

  - I would advise you to run home, change clothes, and drink something from a hangover, otherwise on the very first day Taeil-Hyung will regret taking us.

  - I have half an hour left, - Wong says, confused.

  - I think it will be closed for you to go to Lucas. - Winwin points out, playfully twitching his eyebrows. - If you hurry, then I don’t even have to cover your ass.

  - After what happened, soft chairs would not have interfered with me, otherwise ... - Sicheng interrupts the guy’s words, pushing him towards the house.

  - Save me from the details, feets in hands, and run, - Winwin laughs after the guy who is trying with all his might to walk straight, but God only knows how much alcohol he drank for the courage.

  Ten minutes after that, the meeting begins - slowly a small number of people from different departments meet and warmly get to know each other, so this helps Winwin to relax a little and forget about the call.

            Yuta loved to meet people, because connections, wherever they are, are never superfluous. He stands at the other end of the corridor and, leaning against the doorframe, drinks coffee, examining the newcomers whom Taeil leads around their department and introduces everything around. His eyes immediately lookout for the same guy, so all the time they walk down the corridor, Winwin nervously straightens the edges of his clothes, feeling the gaze on him. Sicheng madly dislikes being studied. “I’m not an exhibit”, he usually says. But here Nakamoto would argue: in the bright light in the corridor, Winwin’s skin looks like porcelain, his profile when he turns his face to Moon’s words “Look left”, as if the jeweler was doing because of these soft lines of his face, and the face itself is so childish and tender, that it is hard to believe that this guy can flirt and even give advice on how to do it right.

  Operators and Taeil walk down the corridor, and when they are already disappearing, then from the Japanese, as if a veil of charm falls. He remembers the gathering and, having made himself another portion of coffee, since he did not sleep, goes to a large hall on the second floor, where they usually have conferences.

  It’s a gigantic room with a lot of shapeless pillows to sit on and a big projector that their boss likes to display all kinds of statistics, graphs, and figures about the rescued or something. All seats are almost taken, but suddenly Utah notices Johnny, who waves to him on the other side of the “ocean” of people.

  Nakamoto sighs, “Could you take a seat in some other ass-place?”, he thinks to himself, but he’s also very grateful to Youngho that he didn’t forget about him. Having somehow reached, he collapses next to him, almost spilling coffee on himself. The familiar red top of Taeil comes out to the projector who congratulates everyone on the holidays, then he apologizes for disturbing those who, in theory, have a weekend, and begins to sum up the past year. All this lasts about twenty minutes, and when they reach the “sweet” - the operators.

  - This year we will have an amazing experience with operators on our site. I believe that they, as the main decoration of our department, will give a different look to the main department of the fire department and increase efficiency, we will be able to receive calls better, since now, so that there is no confusion, we will attach a firefighter to each operator to whom he will report accidents cases. For this, I give you a week so that you have time to make friends and choose your partner. This, of course, I do not by order, because I was told to distribute it myself, but it is within my competence to make your already hard work pleasant. So you have time, and I want you all to get along with each other. That’s all for me. Once again - all happy holidays and the beginning of the New Year, which, I hope, will change for the better for many, - with these words Taeil looks at Johnny, who smiles back with his soft smile and shows his thumbs-up: Moon is very afraid of performances, so Suh always sits down near the stage so that if Taeil gets scared, he can find his beloved face and calm down.

  The next to go to the projector is the operators themselves, who introduce themselves and talk about some of their interests. When it comes to Sicheng’s turn, Nakamoto puts his coffee cup on the floor next to the ottoman and, resting his face on his palms, looks straight into the guy’s eyes.

  Winwin tries hard not to look at this interesting face, but involuntarily he meets Yuta’s gaze, which is why a herd of goosebumps runs down his spine and he stumbles, and the Japanese at that moment innocently slaps his eyes and, covering his mouth, smiles disgustingly.

  Dong prays to all known gods that not all firefighters will be dismantled but noticing that most of the operators he knows are approaching their guys, while others are already openly flirting with unoccupied firefighters when he suddenly notices Doyoung who is trying to spy out the remaining guys.

  - Hey, what are you standing here for? Taeyong and Yuta are still free...

  - Who did you like more? - asks Doyoung watching Sicheng’s reaction.

  - What’s the difference? We don’t choose husbands… - Dong mutters as he tries to hide his gaze from the Japanese studying him, turning his back to him.

  - I suggest we must play rock-paper-scissors? - Young smiles. - Who loses - goes to Yuta.

  - Why Yuta? Why not Taeyong? - Sicheng’s lips are blowing, blushing at the mere mention of this fireman.

  - Sicheng-a, lose, for God’s sake. We want to see you two together, - Hendery’s voice suddenly sounds from somewhere behind, causing Dong to jump up and down and then roll his eyes. Kunhang comes up to them, hugging sleepy Lucas, who even looks like he is ready to go to be photographed on the cover of a magazine right now.

  - If you continue to shout so loud, then I will let you down the stairs, Yuta is close ... - mutters Sicheng, blushing.

- Let’s play, - Doyoung interjects. - Rock-paper-scissors!

  Do fall out scissors, and at Winnie - paper. A happy couple squeaks from behind, and Young smiles nasty and points to a Japanese who is standing and talking to some guy. Winwin gets a little angry with an unfamiliar cute guy near Nakamoto since he already believed that Yuta was in his chains. Sicheng sighs and blushes and heads towards the Japanese.

  Coming closer, Sicheng strains his ears to hear the conversation, but when he comes closer, the conversation stops abruptly, - Nakamoto smiles at the guy and nods, saying goodbye. Dong mentally hates him, because even when he smiles, it’s a smile with his whole face, and it makes him feel at home next to the Japanese — safe and comfortable. Sicheng hates to blush.

  - Did you want something, dear angel? - Yuta smiles and looks away so as not to embarrass the boy like that.

  - I wanted to ask if you are free? - stammering, says Sicheng quickly.

  - Alas, but no. One boy took my heart a few months ago, and it seems he has no intention of returning it at all, - Nakamoto shrugs.

  - Damn it, I mean, do you have an operator? - Dong blushes, trying to look only at Hendery, who stands in the background with his fingers crossed. Following the gaze of the operator, the Japanese smirks and, while the guy has not yet turned, wraps his arm around his waist.

  - Let’s go and discuss, - says Yuta hugging.

  If it had been someone else, Sicheng would have already run away and yelled at the entire site, but either falling in love dulls his brains, or is he so afraid - he allows the Japanese to take him to their call waiting room. All the way, Nakamoto holds Sicheng’s waist, stroking the thin waistline with his thumb and tapping with the rest of his fingers. Already just before the door, he releases the guy, opening the door in front of him and letting him in.

  The room is medium but quite cozy: Christmas decorations are scattered everywhere, various soft toys that were given by children for the firefighter’s day, and many photos of Yuta with his friends from Osaka.

  Winwin looks around the room with interest as his hands rest almost weightlessly on his waist again.

  - If you’re interested, you can take and look, - Nakamoto says, forcing the introvert Sicheng up to this point to run like scalded from object to object, looking around. Then he seems to remember his reason for being here, and Dong looks around absently.

  - Why did you bring me here?

  - So that you do not blush because of your friends, - smiles Yuta, - well, I need to find out how much more time you will play cat and mouse? I’ve already declassified you, operator 2810, - Nakamoto approaches the guy, runs his fingers over his hand. - Why did you start this game?

  - I thought everything would remain at the level of flirting. I was very afraid, - lowering his gaze, mutters Winnie. The Japanese man tilts his head to one side, gently pushes the guy’s chin with his fingers, lifting it.

  - What were you afraid of?

  - That in reality, you don’t like me, - Sicheng says, looking into the eyes.

  - Why? - Yuta’s tone of voice becomes more alarming, and his hand is already holding Dong’s hand, fingering the guy’s fingers.

  - Well then, in the club ... You were incredible. And you know, that day I made a wish to find my soul mate, but no one came up to me all evening. And when I was already drunk, but still thinking, you approached. At first, I thought it was just another guy for the night, but when you called me ... I sharply sobered up. I was scared to tell you my number, although the drunks remember little, - Sicheng says while Nakamoto listens to him intently, intertwining their fingers.

- And when I saw you, I realized that I would be like an ugly duckling - only I would spoil the whole impression of you. You look like a prince from a fairy tale, and I’m just a free... - unexpectedly, Dong’s confession is interrupted by a soft kiss on the lips from the Japanese, who gently crushes the lips of the guy opposite who have not yet closed.

  - Don’t talk about yourself like that, you’re wonderful. You are a little riddle that I have found and I want to solve the rest of my life. I want to love you madly, making you blush, because then your face takes on indescribably cute features, I want to fill you with love in every sense of this phrase; I want to hear your delightful voice; I want to take away every fear and anxiety you have; I want you to feel close it’s cozy with me, because I’m your home, - all this is accompanied by Yuta’s kisses on various parts of Winwin’s face, leaving not a single part of the skin without a gentle touch of his lips.

  Sicheng blushes at these words.

  - So you’re not mad at me for my stupidity? - Dong asks when the Japanese man stops kissing the operator and puts his arm around the waist, pressing him against the wall.

  - Of course not, silly, - the Japanese laughs. - I can’t be angry with such a miracle. By the way, can you teach me a couple of flirting tricks? Are you my operator now?

  - I’m yours for a long time, you just didn’t know about it, - Sicheng chuckles while gently kissing Yuta. - And you have not yet learned how to flirt with such a guy?

  - Well, why not? I need a professional opinion.

  Winwin chuckles, waiting for Yuta’s answer.

  - Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I will return.

  Dong blinks his eyes for a moment, and then pulls the Japanese into a kiss, biting his lip slightly.

  - Would such an answer suit you?

  - So ... I did well?

  - A kiss is not enough? I expected everything, but not this. It was powerful. You make me happy, - smiles Sicheng, reluctantly moving away from Yuta.

  They have a special love - they don’t need a lot of words, just a few touches or the light presence of the shadow of a kiss on each other’s lips is enough to feel loved and desired.

#fanfic #nct #nct 127 #wayv #winwin #yuta #taeil #johnny #lucas #kun #yangyang #hendery #ten #firefighter #call #attempt to flirt

[goldenraeofsun]

we can follow the sparks

More of this verse!

As they sit down to lunch, Alicia asks in a hushed voice, “Have you guys seen the new Latin teacher?” 

Josephine shakes her head as she bends down to pull out her history textbook. She’s one of those miraculous people that can study, gossip, and eat all at the same time.

If Alicia tried that, she’d dump bits of tomato on her book, ask “what?” every two minutes, and absorb zero percent of the reading.

“I have Latin tomorrow,” Aidan says as he digs into a container of leftover spaghetti.

“Oh, you don’t count,” Alicia waves him off and nudges her brother with to pay attention. Max looks up from haggling with Krissy for half of her pastrami sandwich.

Aidan's brow furrows. “Why?”

“Because you’re straight,” Alicia dismisses.

Krissy dumps the pastrami in front of Max and grabs half of his grilled tofu and veggie sandwich and his kale chips in return. Max’s face falls.

Aidan scowls at Alicia. “What, is the new teacher hot or something?”

Alicia scoffs, “Or something.”

Max’s face lights up hopefully. “Hotter than Mr. Winchester?” 

“Mr. W isn’t hot,” Krissy points out, nose wrinkling.

Alicia rolls her eyes. “You are literally the only senior who thinks that.”

“The only student,” Max corrects as he takes a hearty bite of pastrami.

Alicia holds out her hand, which Max slaps obligingly. Thank god Alicia has her twin. 

“Maybe Kaia has had him,” Josephine points out as Kaia takes the only free seat at their lunch table, Claire close on her heels. They both squeeze in, content to practically sit in each others’ laps.

Alicia rounds on the newcomers. “Have you had Latin?”

“I take Spanish,” Kaia says, shrugging. “Why?”

With her nose already buried in her book, Josephine supplies, “Alicia says the new teacher is hot.”

Claire chokes on her own spit.

“I heard from Patience he also teaches French and Spanish too,” Max says in a hushed voice.

“Oh,” Kaia says with a sidelong glance at Claire, “I have Spanish tomorrow.”

Claire silently hands Kaia half of her wrap, saying, “I’m not taking a language this year.”

“You can do that?” Krissy asks.

Kaia passes Claire her yogurt without looking at her because they are truly the most disgusting couple ever. Claire shrugs. “I was taking Mandarin at my old school, but obviously I can’t do that here.”

“At Carver,” Aidan spits.

Claire ignores him. “I’m taking AP English and Creative Writing instead.”

“Nice,” Max raises his fist for her to bump, “double Mr. Winchester.”

Claire makes a face. “I’m with Krissy on this one. I don’t get the appeal.”

Max shakes his head despondently. “Of course you don’t. You’re a lesbian.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes,” Claire snorts. “He’s old.”

“Nobody’s had Latin, French or Spanish yet?” Alicia asks, aghast.

“Hey!” Adian calls, “Alex!”

Alex looks up from the next table over where she’s squished between Patience and Tracy Bell. “What?” she demands, annoyed at the interruption.

Aidan smirks and says out of nowhere, “Do you think Mr. Novak is hot?”

Patience giggles and elbows Alex in the side as she splutters, “No!”

“That’s a yes,” Alicia says smugly.

* * *

Josephine approaches Mr. Novak’s desk cautiously, a little nervous to be talking to her new teacher one-on-one for the first time. She tries, “Professeur?”

Mr. Novak pauses wiping down the board. “Est-ce que tu as un problème avec les devoirs?”

Josephine shakes her head, saying slowly as she mentally translates, “Je n’ai pas ma copie de l'étranger. Je l’ai acheté le weekend dernier, mais il y a un… delay.”

“Retard,” Mr. Novak translates for her. He smiles and adds, “Pas de problème. Je garde toujours une autre copie dans mon bureau. Si tu voudrais bien me suivre.” He gestures for Josephine to follow him to the Language Office, but they stop short at the sight of Mr. Winchester standing in the doorway, staring at Mr. Novak with wide eyes.

“Dean,” Mr. Novak says in surprise. “Qu’est-ce qui s’passe?”

Mr. Winchester goes bright red. “Cas?” he asks weakly.

Mr. Novak gives his head a little shake. “My apologies. It’s been a long day. Is there something you need me for? I was just about to give Josephine my office copy of The Stranger.”

Mr. Winchester’s mouth opens and closes before he stutters, “N-no, it’s nothing. I’ll just… catch you later.” 

Josephine glances up at Mr. Novak as they turn the other way down the hall, towards the Language Office. “C’est bizarre,” she mutters.

Mr. Novak laughs lightly under his breath. “Peut-être il a oublié ce qu’il voulait me demander.”

Josephine inwardly frowns at the suggestion that Mr. Winchester “forgot” why he stopped by Mr. Novak’s classroom.

Josephine had Mr. Winchester for English as a freshman. He never forgot anything. He had an endless supply of Vonnegut quotes on hand, and he always remembered to ask Krissy how her dad was doing after he had a close call with cancer over spring break that year.

This time, he didn’t look like a man who couldn’t remember something; he looked embarrassed.

“Peut-etre,” Josephine echoes because she wasn’t about to just say all that to a new teacher. And in French.

In his office, Mr. Novak hands her a copy of Camus. “Voilà,” he says, completely straight faced. “Si tu as besoin d’autres choses, viens me voir.”

Josephine bobs a nod. “Merci beaucoup.”

“Au revoir,” he says with a little wave as she leaves the office.

Josephine meets up with Krissy by the front doors, half-heartedly fending off Aidan’s shitty flirting. “Hey,” she says. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem,” Krissy says easily. She pushes off the wall. “Aidan was keeping me company.” She smiles at him, and Aidan perks up like Pavlov’s dog hearing the dinner bell. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Aidan says faintly as Krissy and Josephine take off towards Josephine’s car.

Josephine waits until Krissy is buckled in to say, “You’ll never believe what happened after French today.”

* * *

Krissy has never regretted taking German more in her life. Edlund’s a pretty small high school with a little over 500 students in total, so all anyone’s been talking about for the first two weeks in September is the new language teacher, Mr. Novak. 

Alicia and Max think he’s hot.

Josephine thinks he’s nice.

Aidan thinks he’s cool.

Kaia thinks… well, she’s been pretty mum on the subject, but she’s not the gossipy type, so Krissy isn’t surprised.

Only Claire rolls her eyes every time Mr. Novak’s name comes up.

Krissy hasn’t met the new language teacher. If she’s lucky, she can catch a glimpse of messy hair and a rumpled suit while she speed-walks from Calculus to World History.

While investigating Mr. Novak himself might be difficult, Krissy is close with Mr. W. 

She can still remember how Mr. W’s footsteps sounded down the hospital hallway in the oncology wing; how her heart pounded in her chest the first time she got in his car; how he talked for forty-minutes about “his baby” all the way to Josephine’s house.

Once a week for a month in freshman year, Mr. W chauffeured Krissy from the hospital on Tuesdays (Josephine’s parents took her on the weekends). Occasionally, he stopped in to talk to her dad, since they both went to Edlund High years ago. Edlunders, as Mr. W said, always took care of their own.

On the car ride to Josephine’s, they talked about Vonnegut, surrealist fiction, dystopian sagas… They only skipped over classic literature, since Mr. W thought everything written before the 20th century was boring as fuck. Mr. W did allow Shakespeare, though, because of all the dick jokes. 

Krissy knocks on the door to the Language Office three weeks into the school year. While she’d like to pretend to herself her visit is to get Mr. W’s opinion on Mr. Novak (his opinion would be more reliable than Alicia, Max, and Aidan combined, and on par with Josephine’s) she can’t pretend the mild haze of panic clouding her head has anything to do with a teacher she doesn’t even have on her schedule.

“Come in!” Mr. W’s voice calls.

Krissy steps inside, nodding to Frau Allen at her desk by the window. Otherwise, the office is empty.

“Hey, Krissy,” Mr. W says with a smile as she fiddles with the strap of her back, hovering by the door. “You wanna take a seat? Cas already left for the day.” He gestures to what Krissy assumes is Mr. Novak’s desk, next to his.

Krissy sits. “Thanks.”

Mr. W’s lighthearted expression turns serious as he reads her face. “Is everything okay? Your dad doing well?”

“Oh yeah,” Krissy says quickly, “still in remission. Everything’s looking good.”

“Good,” he says emphatically, and he means it, not like Ms. Masters or Mr. Trent after the news went around school that her dad was sick.

Krissy taps her fingers on Mr. Novak's vacated desk. “What happened to Mr. Turner? Did he finally retire?”

“Mm hm,” Mr. W hums. “He still goes fishing with Bobby - Principal Singer - so I heard he’s doing well.”

“How’s the new guy?” Krissy asks as she spins the seat around.

Mr. W frowns at her question. “He’s good,” he says as he pins her in place with a long look. “Why the interest? Don’t you take German?”

“I’ve been considering switching,” Krissy lies. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Frau Allen make a face.

“Because that makes sense,” Mr. W says, clearly not believing a word. “Aren’t you in AP German?”

Krissy ignores the question. “I heard Mr. Novak came from Carver.”

“He did,” Mr. W says cautiously. “So what?”

“Maybe he’s a spy.”

“This is high school, not the USSR,” Mr. W says with a snort. “Plus, Cas was an Edlunder first.”

Krissy blinks. “He was?”

“He was a student in my year.” He smirks. “He actually tutored me in Latin, if you can believe it.”

Krissy mulls that over. “So you know him pretty well.”

“Well enough,” Mr. W says, back to being cagey as hell. “I know he’s a good teacher and this school’s lucky to have him.”

“Okay,” Krissy says dubiously.

Mr. W rolls his eyes. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, and god knows why you wanted to talk about Cas, why are you really here?”

“Everyone’s talking about him!” Krissy protests.

Mr. W leans back in his chair and surveys her with a cool eye. “Since when have you been interested in gossip?”

“Uh…”

“That’s what I thought,” Mr. W says, satisfied. “Just spit it out, kid. I promise it can’t be that bad.”

“Would you write me a recommendation letter for college?” she asks in a rush. “Please.”

Whatever Mr. W had been expecting, it wasn’t that. He laughs, and Krissy almost dies of embarrassment before he says, “Well duh. I have a draft of the thing I’ve been sitting on for two years.”

“Really?” Krissy asks, her eyes round.

Mr. W nods. “After everything with your dad, I thought this might come up. And there were parts I didn’t want to forget so I wrote ‘em down.”

“Great,” Krissy says faintly. She shouldn’t be so surprised. Mr. W told her he always liked to be prepared. A true boy scout, he’d say before laughing to himself. 

When she’d voiced her confusion - Mr. W being a boy scout wasn’t all that outrageous, if you take away the minor swearing (he was a lot worse when she was a freshman). He said they didn’t take men like him.

Krissy tactfully changed the subject, but the next week she went to GSA for the first time.

It was worth giving up her Thursday lunch period to see Mr. W smile when she walked into his classroom for their weekly meeting. 

* * *

Max winces as Krissy elbows him in the ribs. He’s giving up his Thursday lunch hour for this?

Alan Corbett’s been going on and on for the past twenty minutes. Sure, he’s President of GSA, but that does not mean everything he says is worth listening to. It’s a shame. He’s too nice for anyone to tell him how boring he is. 

Kaia and Claire are playing footsie under the table.

Thank god Krissy gets it. As their only Straight rep of the Gay-Straight Alliance, Max was highly skeptical when she signed up at the end of freshman year. But Mr. Winchester liked her, so it was enough to convince Max not to give her the cold shoulder when she sat next to him. Plus, whatever Mr. Winchester says goes, since Max could listen to him read the dictionary with that ruggedly deep voice of his.

Max doubts Krissy’s heard a single word out of Alan’s mouth. Instead, her whole attention has been riveted on Mr. Novak, who’s attending his first GSA meeting. He sits off to the side, by the big poster of Game of Thrones (Mr. Winchester says it’s based on a book, so it counts).

Krissy scrawls in all caps on the back of a history assignment: HEART. EYES.

Max subtly shakes his head and picks up his pencil. WTF?

Look at how they’re looking at each other!

They’re not tho

Exactly! Krissy taps her last message forcefully. They keep look at each other when the other one is looking the other way

Why do you care?

Krissy frowns.

If I wanted gossip, I would’ve stayed in the cafeteria with Alicia

It’s Mr. W. I know you like him

I like to look at him Could care less about his love life I thought you were the same What gives?

You only pretend to be a shallow man whore I know you like him You started this club with him 3 years ago

How else could I find questioning dudes to fuck?

ew

But all I ended up with was… Max nods at Alan in disgust.

Krissy hides her smile behind the fist propping up her chin. You have the best gaydar in the city limits. So does Mr. W have a chance with Mr. Novak?

Mr. W flipped a closeted Republican, so… And I’m not talking about politics.

Seriously?

You didn’t hear it from me

You don’t even like gossip Who the hell told you that?

Alicia. Who else? She knows everything.

Max smirks as he starts his next note.

It’s why her hair is so big. It’s full of secrets.

Krissy doesn’t manage to stifle her laugh in time.

Mr. Novak frowns disapprovingly, but Mr. Winchester doesn’t notice since he’s too busy staring at Mr. Novak.

Maybe Krissy’s onto something.

Max looks down at their notes to find another message: Josephine told me Mr. W has it bad for Mr. Novak

Max scrawls incredulously, Josephine??? Since when does she pay attention?

That’s what I’m saying He’s got it so bad even Josephine can see it

Aromantic Josephine, who took a year to figure out Aidan was into you

Yup.

I bet they’ll be banging in 2 weeks

Can you not

$5 says I’m right

Make it $10. 

* * *

Aidan sulks against the wall of the gym. He finally got Krissy to agree to go to a dance - Homecoming! - and all she wants to do is hang with their friends.

And fine, it wasn’t like he expected them to sneak out and make out or do more stuff when they were alone… but he kind of did.

At least he got a couple of dances in. Before Krissy dragged him away, he even got to grind up against her. It was fucking magical.

Now, he’s at a table with Kaia and Josephine. Krissy is waving over Alicia, so Max can’t be far behind. Only Claire is a no-show, but Krissy told him a few minutes ago she was in the bathroom. Girls always take a bafflingly long time in there. Maybe there are snacks?

“Where’s Max?” Aidan asks loudly over the music. There’s only two of them; the Y chromosome reps gotta stick together. 

Alicia vaguely waves her hand toward the dance floor. “I think he mentioned something about Ennis Ross.” She spins the folding chair around to straddle it and rest her arms on the back.

Aidan draws up short. “Ennis is gay?”

Kaia snorts. “Does it matter?”

“Not to Max,” Krissy says with a grin. “You know he’s always happy to play the baking soda volcano.”

“Huh?” Aidan asks.

Krissy rolls her eyes. “He’s always happy to be someone’s experiment.”

“Oh.”

Alicia’s lips purse but she doesn’t comment.

“Did you see Mr. Novak and Mr. W?” Krissy asks, tipping her head towards where the two teachers lean against the wall underneath one of the basketball hoops, talking with their heads bowed together.

“They are cute,” Alicia agrees, looking grateful for the subject change.

Mr. Novak dressed up for homecoming with a tie the school colors, and Mr. Winchester has Edlund's mascot, Peppy the Pigeon, painted on his cheek.

“Do you think if Aidan spikes the punch, it’ll,” Krissy waggles her eyebrows, “make things happen?”

Josephine frowns. “I don’t think Mr. Novak could ever be drunk enough to make a move in front of students.”

“But Mr. W for sure,” Krissy says.

“Oh yeah,” Alicia says.

“Hey,” Aidan protests, holding his hands up in the T formation for timeout. “I’m not giving up my booze.”

“Speaking of,” Alicia holds her hand out, “Gimme some.”

“What? No! Get your own.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” she asks, eyebrows raised. “Mom doesn’t even allow Coca Cola in the house because it brings ‘negative energy.’”

Krissy nudges Aidan in the ribs with a pointy elbow, and he sighs. He fishes his flask out of his suit pocket and hands it over. Alicia takes a swig and promptly passes it to Josephine, who gives it to Kaia.

“Hey, save some for the guy who brought it!” Aidan says as he snatches it back.

“Not too much,” Max’s voice says from behind him. He grins as Aidan jumps. “Whiskey dick is a real thing.”

“Hey,” Josephine greets. “No go with Ennis?”

“Got spooked right as we were getting to the good stuff,” Max says with a shrug.

“Sorry,” Kaia says sincerely.

“It’s alright,” Max says as he throws himself into the last empty chair. “I only got one more year here, and then there’s gonna be a whole freshman class of questioning dudes ripe for the taking.”

Krissy wrinkles her nose. “You do you, I guess.”

“Thank you, Kristine, I will,” Max says.

Alicia rolls her eyes.

“We were just talking about Mr. W and Mr. Novak,” Krissy says, jerking her head to the basketball hoop. “Huh,” she says, her eyes widening a she scans the gym, “Where’d they go?”

“Probably to go make out,” Aidan says bitterly with a significant look at Krissy. She frowns.

“We can only dream,” Alicia says wistfully.

The song changes to something with a thumping baseline and a catchy chorus, and there’s a deafening cheer from the dance floor.

Aidan glances around, but nobody at the table moves to join in. He taps his feet to the beat. A few of the teacher chaperones have meandered closer to the dancing group, eyes peeled for inappropriate activity.

“Wanna get some air?” Aidan says in a carrying undertone (the music is very loud) to Krissy.

Max groans. “Yes, please.”

Aidan glares.

“Where?” Alicia asks.

Adian's mood sours further. He is never going to touch Krissy’s tits at this rate.

Kaia sets her phone down on the table. “Claire’s already out by the football field. She says nobody’s there.”

“Alright then,” Josephine says as she gets to her feet and stretches.

Krissy holds her hand out to Aidan. “Come on, you,” Krissy says with a small smile, “This was your idea.”

Aidan grumbles but follows the group. The halls are weird in the dark, still festooned with banners and streamers from Spirit Week. Everyone is oddly quiet as their footsteps echo off the rows of closed lockers. They pass one of the lab rooms, and a shadow moves across the window, accompanied by a hushed giggle.

Max smirks. “Wanna bet how many are getting it on right now?”

“I’d steer clear of the supply closets,” Alicia says with a shudder.

“Talk about a cliche,” Krissy complains as they round the last corner before the large double doors to the field. “If I was sneaking around, the roof is the way to go. No one ever looks there.”

Aidan files that fact away for later.

The fall breeze hits them squarely in the face as they step outside. Aidan shrugs out of his jacket and puts it around Krissy’s shoulders, ignoring her eye roll and smiling at Josephine’s thumbs-up behind Krissy’s back.

Max gallantly gives Alicia his jacket too, and Josephine and Kaia huddle together as they pick their way across the field, stepping over bits of confetti, torn bits of streamers, and a few abandoned signs. The crowd had been particularly enthusiastic since they’d been playing Carver Preparatory.

Edlund High won, of course. For the fifteenth year in a row. Carver sucks.

They find Claire at the top of the bleachers, wearing her normal leather jacket over her midnight blue dress.

“Hey,” Kaia says, kissing her on the cheek. “What’re you doing up here?”

“I don’t like crowds,” Claire says, hugging her arms to her chest.

“Me either,” Josephine says as she sits next to Claire. 

“You didn’t have to bring the cavalry,” Claire complains to Kaia.

Kaia shrugs. “They wanted to come.”

“The dance was lame,” Max says as he bounds up two bleachers at a time.

“Because you’re too cool to do the electric slide,” Alicia says as she plops down on the row below.

Krissy wanders around, searching for the best spot to sit out of the wind, Aidan’s coat still wrapped tightly around her shoulders. “Hey,” she hisses, hand flapping in their direction. “Look!”

“What?” Alicia leans over to see what Krissy’s spotted. “Holy fuck,” she breathes.

Aidan, Max, and Josephine peer over the railings to see the shadowy area below, leaving Kaia and Claire to their whispered conversation.

Holy fuck is right. That’s Mr. Winchester. And Mr. Novak.

“What are they doing?” Aidan asks before he can stop himself. It’s not like he doesn’t know what a heavy duty make out looks like. 

Max snorts.

Alicia throws him a despairing look.

Krissy swivels around to face Claire. “Did you know they were down there?”

“Yeah? So what?” Claire says, frowning. “I wasn’t about to perv on a couple of teachers.”

Krissy’s mouth falls open as she stares at the group as a whole. “Do you think this is the first time?”

Max sneaks another peek. “Probably not,” he says critically. “Either that, or Mr. Novak’s way more randy than I ever gave him credit for. A real freak under that suit.”

Claire’s face spasms.

“Or maybe Mr. Winchester just brings it out in him -” Alicia starts.

* * *

“They’ve been dating for three years!” Claire explodes. 

Everyone turns to stare at her.

Two months. Two goddamn months of this. 

When she transferred to Edlund from Carver, she thought the worst part would be her family’s disapproval. They all told her it was stupid to throw away her future at a good school for a girl. They always said it like that, like Kaia didn’t have a name. At least Uncle Cas supported her, not that he had a single leg to stand on, since he was switching jobs and taking a pay cut to be with Dean. Claire would have preferred if her uncle didn’t follow her from school to school like the dorkiest duckling ever, but it was nice to have him in her corner.

But no, the absolute worst part was all the gossip she had to listen to. About Uncle Cas, aka the biggest doof on the planet.

Maybe Grandmother was right, and Edlund was filled with a bunch of idiots. Claire throws up her hands, saying through gritted teeth, “Castiel transferred from Carver to spend more time with Dean.” 

“How do you know that?” Krissy asks, her mouth falling open.

Claire purses her lips. “Castiel’s my uncle.”

“Your what?” Aidan gapes.

Claire rolls her eyes. “He’s my uncle. Dean’s his boyfriend. They’re gross together all the damn time - but not in school because Uncle Cas has opinions about it.”

“If Mr. Winchester could make out with him all the time, he’d do it,” Kaia adds because she’s had dinner at Uncle Cas’s way too many times and has seen it for herself.

Krissy leans over the railing. “Get it Mr. W!”

Alicia cackles as Dean and Uncle Cas jump apart, glancing around for the voice.

Dean’s Peppy face paint is nothing but a smear of grey and black on his cheek. Double gross. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters as he spots the group on top of the bleachers. “What the hell are you guys doing here?” 

“I wanted to make out with my girlfriend,” Aidan complains. Krissy rolls her eyes, but Claire doesn’t miss the regretful expression on her face before she turns back to the pair of teachers below.

“Just getting some air,” Josephine explains pleasantly as she aims a kick at Aidan’s shin.

“Don’t let us interrupt!” Max calls wickedly.

Dean runs a hand down his face and nudges Uncle Cas with his shoulder. “We should escort them back, right?”

Uncle Cas sighs. “It would be irresponsible not to.” He glares at Dean. And even in the dark, Claire can see how red his face is. “I told you sneaking off was a bad idea.”

“Be thankful we didn’t get to my real bad idea before the Scooby Gang found us,” Dean says, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

“We can still hear you,” Claire reminds them loudly.

“Alright, alright,” Dean says, flapping his hands at them like a giant mother hen. “Get down from there and back to the dance. I heard someone spiked the punch.”

“Really?” Aidan asks as he offers Krissy his hand to help her down.

“No,” Dean deadpans. He mutters to Uncle Cas, “I can’t believe we got cockblocked by a bunch of kids.”

Claire makes a noise of disgust as her feet hit the ground. “Are you incapable of whispering?”

Uncle Cas shoots Dean a warning look before saying calmly, “Nothing was going to happen. We were, ah, getting some air.”

“That’s not all you were gonna get,” Dean says in an undertone.

Claire groans.

“Stop,” Uncle Cas tells Dean reproachfully. “I know you’re goading her. It’s inappropriate.”

“I’ll show you inappropr-”

Uncle Cas actually slaps his hand over Dean’s mouth. “Not another word, Dean.”

They are the worst. Claire pretends to trip Dean up as they pass her, and Dean flips her the finger when Uncle Cas looks the other way.

Claire waits for Kaia and the rest of the group, dawdling after the pair of teachers. Bemused, she watches as Krissy, Max, Aidan, and Alicia hand Kaia money. “What’s going on?” Claire asks.

“Your girlfriend fleeced us,” Aidan complains as he pockets his wallet.

Claire raises her eyebrows.

Kaia shrugs, but her face is as smug as Claire has ever seen it. “I just bet everyone else was wrong.”

Claire’s mouth falls open. “Were you betting on them?” she hisses, pointing at Uncle Cas and Dean.

“I thought it would take them two weeks to sleep together,” Max says.

“I bet two months,” Krissy adds.

“One month,” Alicia supplies.

“A year,” Aidan says with a helpless sort of look.

Claire swivels to glance at Josephine. “What about you?”

Josephine raises her hands in a gesture of innocence. “I had no idea, which is why I didn’t get involved.” She studies the pair ahead of them for a few steps, her eyes narrowing as Dean reaches over to ruffle Uncle Cas’s hair. “I would’ve said something stupid like ten years.”

Claire bursts out laughing.

“What?” Krissy asks, annoyed.

Claire nudges Kaia, who looks stricken. “Come on, you know she nailed it.”

“I did?”

Claire snorts. “They got together after their high school reunion,” she says as Josephine’s face lights up. “It took ten years for those dumb fucks to get their shit together.”

Without missing a beat Uncle Cas calls over his shoulder, “Claire, language!”

Kaia smothers her giggles into Claire’s shoulder.

#fanfic #destiel fanfic #destiel #teachers au #teacher castiel #teacher dean #kaia nieves #claire novak #minor claire/kaia #profoundnet #outsider pov #aidan #krissy chambers #max banes #alicia banes #josephine barnes #the story of us verse #rae writes fic

[alexandrablake]

bright lights, beautiful people

Prompt: Fluff 9. “If you cry, I’ll cry- and that won’t be fine for anyone.” from this prompt list! Pairing: canon ships, but for the most part this is a gen fic Word Count: 809  Warnings: none A/n: again, i’m so sorry this is late. this is also super short and i don’t like the ending much but it’s alright.        

Rossi really did go all out for the wedding. Maybe it was to make up for the day they had yesterday, maybe it was because he had far too much money. Either way, it was gorgeous and perfect.

He was giving a speech now, holding his glass in the air for cheers. “They say that good things happen to good people,” Rossi paused, looking across the table to the newlyweds. “Today is one of those days. And these are two of those people. We love you.”

A chorus of cheers sounded at the end of the speech, and everyone reached to their neighbor to clink their glasses together. 

Derek laughed and turned to Rossi. “That sounded like something my mom would send me off of Pinterest.”

The older man rolled his eyes and took another drink from his glass, sitting back down. “Anyone else have a speech before we eat?”

“I do!” Garcia called out, pushing herself out of her chair and smoothing down the end of her dress. “As the self-appointed maid of honor,” she turned to a grinning JJ with a pointed stare, “you know, since you forgot to ask, I have to give a speech.”

“Well, technically you don’t-” Garcia paused. “Yes, Reid, I do.”

“Go ahead,” Will told her, leaning onto JJ’s shoulder. “Okay, so I’ve known JJ for like 10 years now. And I’ve never met her mother. Hi, Sandy, you seem like a lovely lady, and we simply must talk more after this!” JJ’s mother laughed and nodded. “We’ll have to.” “I think in maid of honor speeches you’re supposed to talk about the couple, right?” After receiving a few nods, Penelope smiled. “JJ and Will- my favorite couple on this slowly deteriorating planet. I didn’t meet Will like everyone else did, but I may as well have through the way she talked about him when they got back from New Orleans.”

Will raised his eyebrows playfully at JJ, who blushed and hid her smile behind her glass.

“The funny thing was that JJ actually thought she was hiding their relationship from us. From us. They’re profilers, sweetie. I can literally look up the amount of times you’ve blinked. You cannot hide anything from us. We all knew something was up when she would check her phone with that beautiful smile of hers, and she would disappear like once a month to “have some alone time.” Who needs that much alone time?

“Then they had Henry, my lovely godson,” she waved her fingers at the small boy, “who is the actual light of my life. And that’s when I knew that they were perfect for each other. People who weren’t soulmates could not create a child that is oh so adorable, oh so perfect. That’s just not possible. Then it took her three years to say ‘yes’ but, finally, here we are.

“Okay, Will, I love you, but I’m not the best man. I don’t have to dote on you, I get to dote on my girl. JJ is my best friend, and there is not a single person on this planet that I’d rather spend practically all of my waking hours with.” Emily made a show of mock offense, to which Garcia blew her a kiss.

“JJ is one of the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful-est people I’ve ever met. I know I have all this… mind-bending chemistry with Morgan, but, really, my true love is you, Jayje. She’s smart and she’s such a perfect mommy. Like, hun, you were literally made to be a mother. And she’s always here for anyone if they need something. Oh,” Garcia paused, having looked at her best friend. “JJ, if you cry, I’ll cry- and that won’t be fun for anyone.” 

The bride gave a watery chuckle, wiping her eyes tentatively so as to not smudge her make-up. Her eyes swimmed with even more at the pause in the speech. 

Garcia smiled as her own eyes became a little glossy. “Oh, mega oops. That was a mistake on my part. Word of advice, my lovelies,” she addressed the rest of the people at the table, “don’t tell Jennifer Jareau not to cry because she will do it. It’s like Pavlov’s dog, except there’s no saliva or food, there’s just tears.

“Back on track, there really isn’t anyone I’d rather call my best friend,” she swiped beneath her eyes. “You’re like the most perfect person to have ever existed. And, oh my god, I’m crying now. And I just reapplied my mascara!” Laughing, she grabbed her glass.

“Okay, I’m going to stop now before JJ makes me cry more,” Garcia lifted the glass into the air and tilted her head back a little to stop the tears from falling. Everyone else followed suit. “So, to JJ and Will. Here’s to a million more perfect angel god-babies! I love you both!”

#eva's 25 days of christmas #advent calendar of fics (ACoF) #penelope garcia #fluff #jennifer jareau #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #eva writes occasionally

[thegildedlady]

Old Friends

Gray dawn broke over Stormwind City. The last stars hung dimly in the sky overhead as more and more light slowly filled up the dark spaces of the human metropolis. These early morning hours were when most of the city’s working folk made their way out of their modest homes and trudged towards whatever task awaited them. The streets were just crowded enough that Kordya Pavlov could pass through them undetected. The layer of sleep still sitting on most overnight guard’s eyes gave her some protection from recognition. Normally she tried to avoid delving this deep into the city, but today Kordya had her own task to attend to. An old friend was expecting her, and she hated to disappoint.

As she cut through the back alleys of the Old Town, Kordya began to smell the coal ash chugging out of the Dwarven district. Right about now the smiths and craftspeople would be stoking the flames from last night’s embers, ready to start a hard day’s work all over again. The smell bristled in her nose and she shook her head to expel it. Kordya walked on by the Dwarves at work, not stopping to admire their constant drive or revel in a hard day’s labor.

“At least I’m not breaking my back like those chumps,” she thought to herself, as she tried to ignore how badly the smell of coal reminded her of a long lost home.

She finally reemerged at the canals, where the coal scent was blown away on a sea breeze funneled through the entrance to the harbor. She inhaled deeply, letting it wash the earth off her as she hurried down the street. The sky was turning from deep gray to lavender, and she would need fleet feet to make it to her destination by daybreak.

Kordya looked down from the ramparts and saw a large crowd gathered at the base of the docks. A wooden platform and gallows had been erected in the looming shadow of the gilded lion’s head protruding from the stone wall behind it. Before the Prince pulled a classic Wrynn Disappearing Act, he kept the gritty practice tucked away inside the stockades and far from public scrutiny. Ever since the regency began, the High Exarch has had no such issue and resumed public executions. A hanging would always draw a crowd, and served as a not so subtle reminder of what fate awaited those who would flee from the Crown’s justice. The bleak scene caused dread to settle in her gut like she’d swallowed a stone, heavy and uncomfortable. She pulled her hood up over her mop of copper curls and began her descent. Kordya disappeared at the edge of the spectators just as the provost began to read the sentence.

“Let it be known that Frederick Albert Lafollette, of the village of Lakeshire, has been convicted of the crimes henceforth stated: Fraud, thievery, assault, arson on five counts, murder on two counts, and piracy against the Alliance Navy. For these crimes, by order of High Exarch Turalyon, he is hereby sentenced to hanging by the neck until he is dead.”

The crowd booed and hissed as the crimes came one after another. Kordya had shuffled her way closer to the center where she might get a closer look. A giant of a man, Frederick looked like he could rip clean through the ropes binding his hands in front of his person, should the desire strike him. He had been worked over, that was clear even from where Kordya was standing. His eye was blackened and his nostrils were crusted with dried blood. Though he stood in the face of his own demise, his expression was serene like a meditating monk. To the strangers gathered to watch him die, he was just another criminal. To Kordya, he would always be Freddy.

Suddenly, a gloved hand pressed against the small of her back. Kordya went stiff as a board, her fingers hovering above the pistol slung around her hips. Before she could cause a scene, a quiet voice spat out an explanation from just over her shoulder.

“Don’t get hasty now, Kordy. It’s your ol’ pal, Earle. You ain’t wantin’ to lose two old scarabs in a day now, are ya?”

Kordya whipped her head around to match the voice to the face in her mind. Earle was already older than dirt when Kordya first met him some ten years ago. Now he was brown as a nut and wrinkled like an old saddle bag. He smiled a leathery grin, his few remaining teeth hanging down to match the tufts of white hair poking out of his ears. Earle was wearing a tattered hide cloak, and pulled his hood up to match Kordya as he took his spot beside her. She did not mind his closeness, but wished he had taken a dip in any body of water before showing up today. The pink hues of the sunrise behind them gave a faint glow to the early morning mist still hanging in the air and warmed their backs as the minutes dragged on.

“I wasn’t sure anybody else would show up,” mumbled Kordya.

“Oh, s’no trouble for me. I been stayin’ down round the cemetery, so I make it out to most of the hangin’s.”

“You got a room or are you roughing it?”

“You know me, kid. I’ll let you take a guess.”

Kordya nodded curtly. She got the picture. The two stood in silence for a while- unsure of what to say to the other. They were not the same people who had formed a comradery all those years ago. What tied them together in the past was just that; the past. Their time with the Blue Scarabs wasn’t a pretty memory for either of them. If nothing else, the hollow feeling that came along when reminiscing about those days was one thing that they actually had in common. Being here for Freddy, of course, was another.

The provost held his palm up to silence the crowd’s jeering. When the noise had settled, he continued reading from the scroll in his hands.

“If Mr. Lafollette should have any last words, speak them now.”

Freddy’s gaze was cast over the crowd and out to the sea, where deep blue waters crashed against the rocky shore. He cleared his throat with a rumble, and Kordya held her breath.

“Tell my mother I’m sorry, that it ain’t her fault I ended up the way I did. And tell her I’ll get even with Pop for what he did to us, when I see him in hell.”

His voice called out clear and true and his gaze squinted against the rising sun. A flash of copper caught his eye and dragged his attention down to the crowd, where two familiar faces looked back at him with recognition and sorrow. When Freddy realized who he was looking at, he smiled sadly. Kordya smiled back, but felt the hot sting of tears welling behind her eyes.

“We’re here for you, Freddy. We came. You don’t have to do this alone,” the words screamed in her mind, but there was no need to say it out loud. Freddy understood it all, just from the way she held his gaze.

The hangman looked shrimpy compared to his charge. Freddy had to lean down, rather courteously of him, to let the hooded man slip the brown sack over his head. The crowd murmured as the priest read his last rites. A noose was fashioned around his neck, the provost signaled the hangman, and the trap door fell out from underneath Frederick Albert Lafollette. The snap of his neck would echo in Kordya’s mind for the rest of her days. He died quickly, the sheer weight of the man mercifully sped along the process. Cheers erupted from the gathered spectators as he swung. It made Kordya hate them all for their cruelty. Earle gently squeezed her hand with his boney fingers and tore her away from Freddy’s fate.

As the sun crept higher in the sky the crowd slowly trickled away until only a few remained. Kordya and Earle waited on the fringe, each had nowhere else to be. The guards had taken Freddy’s body down and wrapped him in a dirty shroud; it took five men to lift him into the crypt keeper’s cart. A Gnome with lime green hair was arguing with the driver about its destination, and the ruckus was drawing all sorts of attention.

“Fifteen gold pieces!”

“Get lost, Gnome.”

“T-Twenty! Twenty gold pieces for the giant!”

“I done told you once, I’m taking this corpse to the graveyard. He’s not for sale.”

As the cart pulled away, Freddy’s body in tow, the green-haired Gnome shook his tiny fist and cursed the driver’s name. Another Gnome, this one with hair the color of candyfloss, was trying to calm him down.

“We can’t let such a specimen escape! We should follow him, wait til the burial is done, and then-”

“Think very carefully before you finish that sentence, pipsqueak.”

Kordya pressed the barrel of her pistol down onto the top of the green one’s skull, and cocked it. He dared not move from that spot, but still could not stop his limbs from trembling. The little wannabe-bodysnatcher reminded her of a tiny, yapping dog. One flash of Earle’s smile was enough to send the pink one running. The old man set to emptying the Gnome-sized pockets in the vicinity as Kordya spoke.

“Listen, I’m a reasonable kinda gal. I know you weren’t thinkin’ of doing something to our dearly departed friend’s body. Cause if you were, well…”

She dropped to one knee and slid her gun down the back of his lime pompadour to get within earshot.

“I’d have to hunt your little friend down, and make the two of you into a new pair of boots for them to bury him in. It’s the reasonable thing to do, for a guy like Freddy. He’s a big guy! I’d say you’re about as long as his foot…” Kordya eyed the trembling man up and down, and sized him up as if she might actually be serious. It was enough to scare the color from his previously rosy cheeks.

“N-NO! I wasn’tgoingtodoanythingyouHAVEtoBELIEVEme I- I- I-”

With a kick of her muck-covered boot, she sent the Gnome stumbling to the ground and freed him from her hold. “Scram. Now.” she ordered. He did not waste time. The Gnome skittered away as fast as his legs could carry him, Kordya and Earle watched as the tiny speck of green disappeared into the distance. The old man snickered a bit, but the somber occasion still sat heavily on both their shoulders. Kordya holstered her pistol and kicked the dirt in the Gnome’s direction.

“Good riddance, son of a bitch. Vultures! He’s barely even cold, and they’re tryin’ to scrap him for parts.”

“You got that little feller pretty good, Kordy. I’d say you ain’t got to worry about Freddy now.”

She let out a shaky sigh she didn’t know she was holding and fumbled for the brass cigarette case she kept in her shirt pocket. Kordya scraped a match across the stone walls and lit up two, one for her and one for Earle. Before handing it over, she met his gaze.

“Promise me you’ll make sure they get him in the ground, and that he stays there. At least for tonight.”

“I ain’t much of a fighter no more, but I’ll keep watch over ‘em. Course I will, Kordy.”

She bought his time with a smoke they shared on the ramparts. Neither spoke again until the cigarettes had burned down to nothing. Earle snapped his fingers as the thought hit him.

“Aw shit, kid. I almost forgot! Freddy let me in on a big score comin’ his way, somethin’ he ain’t never saw before. Gimmie anothern’ and I’ll tell you what it is.”

He waggled his eyebrows, focus locked on the shiny brass case. Kordya smirked and tugged two more sticks from her stash.

“I see you ain’t lost the touch.”

“I worked a lot of jobs in my years, but I never did nothin’ for free.”

He winked at her and popped the little rolled paper between his lips. After taking a couple puffs, Earle got back to the proposal.

“Fred was tellin’ me all about this big time job that falls into his lap, right? Some E-thereal feller in fancy armor wanted him to pick up some products for buyers and deliver ‘em to where they’s goin’. Only catch is, the feller’s real secret. Freddy said he was part of some kinda cartel, but not one he ever heard of.” He took a long drag, then continued. “You know where Freddy’s old place was? That might be a good place to start.”

Kordya had already risen to her feet before he could finish talking. She offered a hand to pull the bag of bones up off the steps, which he gladly took. Earle placed a hand on her shoulder before she could set off.

“Good luck, Kordy. Don’t get caught.”

“Thanks, Earle. You too.”

The old friends parted ways having savored the moment, albeit brief, after all these years. Earle kept his promise, and watched over their fallen comrade through the night like a toothless guardian angel. Kordya had caught the scent of her next payday, and there was no stopping her now. She couldn’t wait to get back to the Mogu.

#kordya pavlov #a scene

[eddieeatsass]

Pavlov’s Do(n)g

Summary: Richie had trained his dick to respond to darkness. He never thought it would get him in trouble, until he found himself in the middle of a blackout with his best friend, and a very well trained dong. Pairing: Reddie Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language

Read on AO3

“If you ever listened to me and actually cleaned your fucking room, we wouldn’t be in this- OW!”

There was a loud clatter as Eddie stumbled over a pile of clothes and fell chest first into Richie’s dresser.

“Even if I cleaned my room, that still wouldn’t mean we’d find anything-”

“Everything should have its place!” Eddie interrupted sternly.

“Not everyone is as neurotic as you, Eds.” Richie rolled his eyes, a gesture gone unnoticed in the darkness of his dorm room.

The power had gone out minutes ago while the two were in the middle of a Fortnight tournament. Eddie had immediately switched into survival mode and began rummaging around Richie’s tiny room for a flashlight, even though Richie had insisted he didn’t own one.

Eddie kept his hands on the dresser after righting himself again, using it to feel his way back to Richie’s bed. He felt the soft cotton graze his leg and sunk down next to Richie with a sigh of defeat.

“Do you at least have any power on your phone?” Eddie asked, pulling his own phone out of his pocket to check.

He felt Richie rustle beside him and heard the telltale click of a button, but no light illuminated the space.

“Nope, dead as a doorknob.” Richie responded, chucking his phone in the direction of his nightstand. A thud announced that it hit the floor instead.

“Why do they say that anyway? Dead as a doorknob? I mean, it doesn’t make any sense. Something can’t be dead if it was never alive, right? Unless dead is just a synonym for inanimate, in which case, are dead people just inanimate ob-”

Eddie tuned him out as Richie continued to ramble. His own phone reflected back at him with only 12% battery. He cursed himself for being too distracted by video games to plug in his phone when he’d needed to. He quickly switched his phone to power saving mode and tucked it away. When he zoned back in, Richie was still ranting.

“- and in that case, does it hurt when we use them? Like, when we squeeze a doorknob, are we actually squeezing its nose?”

Eddie blinked back at Richie’s vague outline with incredulity, before his sigh dissolved into giggles.

“You totally just ripped off Alice in Wonderland.”

“What? No I didn’t?” Richie defended confidently.

“You’re thinking of that scene at the beginning of the movie where Alice finds a talking door and she squeezes it’s knob-nose.”

Richie was silent for a moment.

“Whatever, Walt Disney can suck my dick.”

The pair laughed for a bit before settling into silence, which was particularly deafening during a blackout. The only sound that could be heard were the passing cars outside the dorm, and the slow drip of the faucet in Richie’s bathroom that he’d been refusing to fix for three months now.

Richie’s leg began bouncing anxiously, the complete lack of stimulation already eating away at his nerves.

“This suuuuuccckkssss.” Richie whined.

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.” Eddie offered.

“It’d be better if I was alone!”

“Okay, Ouch.”

“Then I could just beat my meat until the power came back.”

“Ugh, Rich-”

“But now I’m just bored.”

“Hmm, poor you.”

Richie sighed. “I’m sorry Eds, I just get restless when I’m not doing something with my hands.”

“I know.” Eddie conceded; Richie’s ADHD could sometimes be an overwhelming feat for him to handle on his own.

He reached over to put a comforting hand on Richie’s jiggling leg, but the darkness had a way of throwing one’s coordination off.

Both boys froze as Eddie’s hand touched down on Richie’s crotch. Richie’s crotch, which was hard. Wait, why was Richie hard?

“I… uh…” Richie stammered while Eddie hastily pulled his hand away.

“I’m, uh, fuck, sorry.” Richie continued to stumble over his words as Eddie’s face flared hotter by the second.

“My roommate’s like, always here. He never fucking leaves, so I have to wait until he’s asleep to like, you know, have little Richie time, and now he just responds to darkness on his own. I swear to god, it’s like… fucking Pavlov’s dog. PAVLOV’S DICK! I PAVLOV’S DOG’D MY DICK!”

It took Eddie a minute for the words to truly sink in. The silence that stretched between them nearly became suffocating, and Richie was gearing up to begin rambling again, if for no other reason than to just drown out the quiet, when suddenly Eddie was laughing. Not just small titters, but full-blown belly laughs. He fell to his side, curling in on himself, laughter pooling all around him as he struggled to breathe.

“It’s not funny!” Richie protested with an almost indistinguishable lilt of humor in his tone.

“It’s… SO… funny!” Eddie wheezed between giggles.

Richie’s chuckles finally joined Eddie’s as the absurdity of the situation settled in.

Their laughter was interspersed with shouted puns, only half thought out and bordering on nonsense, but as they threw back and forth terms like ‘Pavlov’s Do(n)g’ or ‘Cock-turnal’, their tension bled away.

“Screw saving power, I need to tell the group chat about this.” Eddie grabbed his phone out of his pocket and began unlocking it with mischievous intent.

“Edward Spaghedward, I will kill you!” Richie yelled as he flung his body on top of Eddies to knock the phone out of his hand.

Eddie wrestled under Richie’s weight for a moment, struggling to reach for his phone now laying amongst the mess of Richie’s room. He could feel the laughter rumble through Richie’s chest, now pressed against his own which mimicked the same sound. Once Richie pinned his arms to the bed, he realized he couldn’t break free. Eddie let himself go limp, a sound of discontent accompanying a pout.

“Well, way to go Rich, my phone is now lost forever in the sea of your filth.” Eddie joked.

“It’s not that bad.” Richie objected.

“We still haven’t found Ben’s history text book and it’s been three months.”

“In my defense, there’s no evidence that Ben actually lost it in here.”

“You two were studying when he lost it.”

“…I plead the fifth.”

Eddie tried to laugh but struggled under the bulk of Richie’s body.

“Are you gonna move any time soon? You’re crushing my ribs.”

Richie shimmied a little bit while making a humming noise.

“Mmmm nope, don’t think so.”

“You asshole.” Eddie mumbled. He began to wriggle aggressively, trying to slide Richie off him enough to escape. What escaped instead was a barely audible moan from Richie’s mouth.

For the second time that evening they both froze again, going rigid under the pressure of an untold explanation. Eddie moved again, mimicking his actions from before, but this time slower. Richie hissed through his teeth and tightened his grip on Eddie’s wrists.

“Mind not moving around so much, Eds?” Richie tried to joke, his voice giving way to nerves instead.

That’s when Eddie felt it, the unmistakable outline of Richie’s erection straining against his leg. In all their joking around, they had both forgotten about Richie’s circumstance.

Eddie’s not sure why, blame it on the anonymity of darkness if you will, but his hips began to move again. Another swivel, even slower than the last, and much more calculated. He waited with baited breath, listening closely for a sign from Richie.

It came moments later in a shaky exhale. Eddie felt Richie’s hair tickle his cheek as he lowered his head to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eddie…” Richie cautioned. “What are you doing.”

“Solving your problem…” Eddie braved, another swivel of his hips.

Richie let go of Eddie’s wrists then, sending panic into Eddie’s swimming thoughts. He’d already begun constructing his apology when he felt Richie’s hands resettle themselves on his hips.

His grip was softer, hesitant, as if he feared being burned. Eddie stayed as still as possible, inviting his touch with patience.

The next move had them both groaning, as Richie held down Eddie’s hips and ground into him.

Richie’s cock was noticeably harder than before, the subtle friction enough to get him from half to fully erect, but Eddie was following embarrassingly close behind.

Richie’s head was still tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck, his sped-up breath leaving trails of heat along Eddie’s collarbone.

The first kiss was unexpected. Eddie’s full body shivered as Richie continued to place kisses along the column of his neck, his hips now settled into a slow rhythm against Eddie’s own. It amplified a growing need in Eddie that had only begun to rear its head mere minutes ago.

With shaky hands, Eddie reached out to tangle his fingers in familiar black curls, pulling Richie a little closer. His mouth had moved to Eddie’s jaw, nipping at the sharp angles of soft flesh. Eddie tilted his head towards the warmth, his own mouth ghosting against Richie’s.

For a moment there was nothing but shared breaths. Their lips grazed, Eddie could feel the promise of Richie’s kiss so close, yet both were too scared to cross the line.

As Eddie’s heartbeat threatened to crack a rib, he took a leap of faith.

“Richie…” He moaned, far more desperate than he’d intended.

Richie surged forward, connecting their lips in fervor, unable to hold himself back from temptation any longer.

Simultaneously, they let their walls fall away, filling each other with nothing but desire. Richie prodded Eddie’s lips with his tongue, licking into his mouth when Eddie opened up. Their tongues melded together, their pace starting slow but heating up fast. When Eddie whimpered, Richie’s hands seemed to wander instinctively.

The strong grip disappeared from Eddie’s hips in favor of his shirt, sliding up beneath it in search of tender spots. Richie’s fingers found Eddie’s nipples and his back immediately arched in response. Richie didn’t hold back his smugness as Eddie mewled beneath him.

Eddie’s hands left their purchase in Richie’s hair to pull at his top, too lost in bliss to separate their lips for even a moment. Richie pulled back despite Eddie’s whine and rid himself of the barrier, taking the extra time apart to remove Eddie’s as well before they rejoined impatiently.

The newly exposed skin added extra heat to their fever, causing them to writhe against each other with renewed vigor. Richie’s hands explored new curves as Eddie’s tangled in the sheets. Despite the layers between them, the friction of their cocks rubbing together was already enough to have Eddie somewhat senseless.

Eddie could feel the flush on his face as Richie’s hands returned to their perch on his chest, seeking out his sensitive nubs and pinching them between his thumb and forefinger. The expanse of Richie’s large hands in contrast to his small torso made him feel inexplicably filthy. He wanted to feel those hands on every part of him.

Slowly, Eddie placed one hand atop Richie’s, leading it down his taut stomach until they reached the waist band of Eddie’s jeans. Their kisses slowed to match the pace. Richie’s fingers, shaky but determined, ventured under the rough denim in search of relief. The tense breath he’d been holding was let go as soon he palmed Eddie through his underwear and heard the responding groan. Eddie’s hips rocked up into his hand, silently begging for more friction. So, with a surge of confidence spurred on by Eddie’s actions, Richie dove one layer deeper, connecting skin to skin and making them both shiver.

Eddie’s cock was deliciously thick, squished shorter by the confines of his pants that it strained against. Richie could feel the bulbous point of its head leaking against his hand as he glided over it. He wished so desperately that the power wasn’t out, that he could see Eddie’s cock in full glory, standing tall and twitching for attention. The thought alone nearly brought him to the edge. He decided he’d need to settle on relying on his other senses instead.

Touch. He squeezed the base of Eddie’s cock and dragged his hand upwards, feeling the slope of soft skin against his fingers.

Smell. The scent of Eddie’s shampoo calmed his nerves, familiar and comforting, from then forth forever tainted by this memory.

Sound. Eddie’s small pants could be heard among the silence of the room, a whimper occasionally escaping his lips when Richie flicked his wrist just right.

Taste. Eddie’s lips had tasted sweet, like he’d just applied vanilla chapstick. His tongue had tasted like soda, sugary and sharp and unmistakable. His neck, salty and bland; the taste of clean skin with a sheer layer of sweat prompted by heavy petting.

But there was one spot Richie hadn’t tasted yet… A thought that made his mouth water and his pants tighten. A sinful dream that plagued his mind at night.

“Can I suck you off?” Richie found himself asking, his better judgement lost in a haze.

Eddie keened immediately; his brain already fuzzy from how fast everything was escalating. He nodded vigorously before remembering that Richie couldn’t see him.

“Yes, yes yes yes, please.”

Richie’s hands were pulling Eddie’s pants off within seconds, causing his partner to giggle as the movement tugged his small frame farther down the bed. He scooted back up as Richie repeated the action with his boxer briefs, leaving Eddie completely nude and at his mercy.

It was interesting how confident the dark made Eddie feel. He didn’t feel shy or exposed, but rather empowered by the black surrounding him. As he felt Richie crawl back up the bed, he tugged him in for a bruising kiss. They separated with a wet noise and Eddie guided Richie’s head down to where they both wanted him most.

The hot breath against his cock had flames quickly engulfing Eddie’s abdomen. As Richie licked his first stripe up Eddie’s dick, the twisting threat of release was already churning. Eddie cursed himself for being so into this that he might not last. He clenched his muscles and focused on his breathing as Richie’s tongue continued to do sinful things.

Richie was lost in his mind as he worshiped Eddie’s cock. It was heavy on his tongue as he laved at the head, collecting as much of Eddie’s pre-cum as he could milk from him. He already felt addicted to the stretch in his throat as he sunk down to the base, and the noises the action elicited in Eddie.

“Mmm- fuck, jesus christ- ahhhhh-” Eddie prattled above him.

With a brave hand, Richie brought a single digit up to the swell of Eddie’s ass, tracing the curvature until he reached the warmth of his hole. He continued his maneuvers on Eddie’s cock as his thumb pressed gently against the pucker, teasing the small ring of muscle until Eddie writhed beneath him for more.

Richie pulled off Eddie swiftly, tangling himself up in the sheets as he felt around for his bedside table. They both laughed at Richie’s clumsiness as he continued his tirade, throwing things on the ground while rummaging through the drawer.

Eddie crawled over to where Richie was kneeling at the edge of the mattress and snaked his arms around Richie’s waist in an attempt to calm him. Richie took a deep breath as he felt soft lips on his neck. He let himself melt into Eddie, the touch successfully easing his jitteriness away. His fingers finally curled around the bottle he was searching for, and he made sure to place it within reach before twisting around and locking his arms around Eddie’s waist. He pulled him around on to his lap, Eddie’s hands settling on Richie’s shoulders and his thighs straddling either side of Richie’s legs.

Their noses brushed as foreheads connected, Richie’s hands tracing delicate patterns over Eddie’s skin. Eddie brought their lips together in a kiss that was all smiles, and maybe too much teeth, but neither of them were bothered. One of Richie’s hands disappeared from Eddie’s waist, and after a few seconds Eddie heard the pop of a cap opening.

“Oh, so you don’t know where to find a flash light, but your lube is right on hand?” Eddie snarked with no bite.

“I have my priorities.” Richie responded in a tone that had no business being so sensual.

Eddie’s skin prickled with anticipation when he felt Richie’s other hand leave his body. When it returned, it was accompanied by a slicked-up finger, which Richie teased just at the bottom of Eddie’s tailbone. He slowly trailed the digit down towards Eddie’s neglected hole, revelling in the impatient whimper he got in response to his pace.

Richie finally began circling his rim, the lube coating the area generously. When he pushed the tip of his finger in, he couldn’t help but notice that Eddie already seemed stretched out. Richie was able to push his entire finger in down to the knuckle with no resistance.

“Fuck, Eds, your greedy little hole is already sucking me in.” Richie moaned into Eddie’s neck, where he’d settled his head.

Eddie responded by gyrating his hips forward.

“I may have a nighttime routine of my own.” He whispered.

The image of Eddie eagerly thrusting his fingers into himself while his unsuspecting roommate laid just a few feet away sent a new shot of arousal down to Richie’s groin.

Richie began to drag his finger out, pistoning it back up a second later. He repeated the motion until he felt that Eddie could take another. He added a second finger alongside the first, curling them just slightly so they dragged against Eddie’s walls as he pulled out.

After a short time, Richie was able to scissor his fingers apart, spreading Eddie open to what he could only imagine was a delicious sight. He pushed in a final finger, Eddie’s hole responding hungrily to the intrusion. Richie could feel his wrist protesting as he spread his fingers within the tight muscle, feeling hot walls constricting around him.

At this point Eddie was fucking himself down on Richie’s fingers, setting a steady pace for himself as Richie’s hand stood in as a makeshift dildo of sorts. On one particular thrust Richie curved his fingers just slightly, and when Eddie bore down the response was electric. Eddie’s body curled inwards as a sound akin to a sob escaped him. After a moment he resumed his movements in smaller increments, keeping himself close to Richie and only pulling up to Richie’s second knuckles before pushing back down. He was letting out little unh unh unh’s as he moved, and Richie’s mind was gone. It was so hot he nearly forgot about his own weeping cock, which was smearing precum deep into the fibers of his boxers as it strained against its confines.

When his mind returned to his body on a particularly loud moan from the boy above him, it was like something snapped in Richie. With fluid motions he flipped himself backwards and up the mattress, keeping Eddie securely in his lap with a strong arm around his torso. The new position left Eddie sitting directly on his crotch, Richie’s clothed erection settling in the cleft of his ass. Lube smeared across his pants as Eddie adjusted, adding to the wetness of his jeans.

Eddie’s fingers seemed to have the same thought as Richie’s as they both reached for the button on Richie’s jeans at the same time, neither trying to hide their eagerness. Richie popped the button as Eddie unzipped his fly, and together in an awkward mess of limbs they pulled the tight material down Richie’s legs until it laid in a sad heap at the bottom of the bed.

Eddie’s eagerness wavered slightly in favor of teasing Richie. Soft, delicate fingers traced Richie’s happy trail, dipping into the band of his boxers for a moment only to return up towards his belly button. It was a torturous procedure, but Richie still bathed in the moment, soaking up the attention from Eddie like a sponge.

“You are evil, you know that Eds?” Richie gasped out breathily after the fourth time Eddie pulled his fingers away.

Eddie conceded, not too fond of putting off his own pleasure any longer when Richie was so eager to please.

A single moment is all it took to have Richie reciting just about every curse known to man. As soon as Eddie pulled his boxers off and rested his warm hole up against Richie’s cock, the words just came tumbling.

“Holy fucking shit- aaaahhhhh- your motherfucking asshole is on my dick what the fuck- aaagggghhhh- son of a bitch- hnnnggg” Richie’s incoherence was accompanied by sharp nails digging into the flesh of Eddie’s thighs, hard enough to leave crescent moons in their wake. It was as if Richie thought if he held on tight enough, he might not entirely lose his mind.

Eddie loved the roughness, no matter how accidental or subconscious. He absently hoped there’d be bruises there tomorrow. He couldn’t help but rock back on Richie’s cock just a little bit harder in hopes of getting a harsher grip.

What Eddie got instead was a sudden flip of power. Before he knew it, he was on his stomach, being mounted from the back as he struggled to figure out how Richie had moved so quickly.

“No more games.” Richie growled into Eddie’s ear, his tone causing prickles along Eddie’s arms. He realized then that he’d teased Richie for just a bit too long, awakening within him a side that Eddie had never seen before. He wondered if Richie’s other partners had ever gotten this Richie; stern Richie. He quite liked it…

“O-okay.” Eddie responded with a quake to his voice.

“Now’s the time to choose.” Richie continued, tone even but solemn. “Do you want me to fuck you, or leave you to finger yourself alone in my bed?”

“Th-the first one?” Eddie answered back, a little more hesitantly than he’d intended.

The second he felt Richie’s weight shifting off him he panicked, scrambling behind him blindly to try and pull him back down.

“FUCK ME! FUCK ME, PLEASE RICH- DON’T- don’t leave, I want you to fuck me, please please.”

A chuckle much more akin to the Richie Eddie was used to rang through the air.

“I wasn’t leaving, Eds, I was going to grab a condom…” Richie’s voice dropped a few octaves before adding “But I appreciate the enthusiasm. Seriously, anytime you want to beg me to fuck you, please don’t hold back.”

Eddie’s face was flaring red, he was sure of it. Even in the darkness of the room, red light emanated through his skin to light him up like a Christmas bulb.

Eddie figured since he was already dying of mortification, he had nothing else to lose.

“Can we skip that part actually?”

His voice didn’t waver, and Eddie counted that as a big win for team Kaspbrak.

“Eddie…” Richie’s voice seemed to drop suddenly. “Of course we can skip sex. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone came out softened and cautious, and Eddie wanted to punch him for it.

So, scratch that, both teams were losing.

Eddie sighed before reaching back and taking Richie’s cock in his hand, guiding him to his entrance and propping up his hips in the process.

“You idiot. Skip the condom.”

The reaction was instantaneous, Richie’s head dropped to Eddie’s shoulder and a single incredulous huff exited his chest.

“Thank god. Jerking off in the bathroom wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as this-”

Eddie keened loudly as Richie slipped into him in one easy glide. His tight walls accepted Richie’s cock with no hesitation, leaving him sheathed fully as Eddie trembled below him, toes curled in pleasure.

Richie didn’t allow Eddie time to adjust, apart from the quickly exchanged confirmation that Eddie was okay. But once that was out of the way, Richie was setting a brutal pace right off the bat.

Eddie’d known Richie was well-endowed, but he hadn’t been expecting to feel quite so full with him inside. It wasn’t painful, but it was certainly a step up from the dildo he’d gotten used to using over the last year. This was infinitely better than a dildo.

“Ahhh- such a tight little hole, Eds. Jesus fuck, you’re perfect.” Richie ground out between clenched teeth, no doubt trying to hold himself back just as much as Eddie was.

The constant friction of his cock against the mattress wasn’t doing Eddie many favors in that department, and neither were the filthy things falling from Richie’s mouth.

Eddie’s entire body was already broken out in a sweat. It should’ve grossed him out, but instead it just added to the absolutely filthy feeling he was being consumed by.

“Rich- ‘Chee- fuck you’re so good.” Eddie had never been one for dirty talk, but words were spilling out of him like he physically couldn’t contain them. The praise just felt so natural with Richie.

“So full- hnnnnggg- ‘m so full, don’t stop please please don’t stop.” Eddie reached behind himself almost frantically, searching for Richie’s hands like if he didn’t intertwine their fingers soon, he might lose his footing and begin floating up into the sky.

Luckily, Richie tethered him to the ground, reminding Eddie that he was there, and he didn’t plan on stopping, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Eddie tried to focus on the feeling of Richie’s thumb rubbing the back of his hand as he evened out his breathing.

“So much…” Eddie started back up. “So full… so-”

Eddie was cut off as Richie folded over him, modifying his thrusts so they were shallower. He didn’t pull his hips back far before pushing back in, keeping himself nestled right up against Eddie.

“Is it too much?” Richie asked quietly, bringing their conjoined hands up to his mouth and kissing each of Eddie’s tiny fingers.

Eddie shook his head, then remembered Richie couldn’t see him.

“No, it’s just… it’s a lot, but not too much.”

Richie hummed in acknowledgement, keeping his new pace consistent as their bodies rocked together.

With Richie pressed so closely to Eddie, he could feel every inch of skin that rubbed together. Even things a simple as the graze of Richie’s leg against his thigh had tingles shooting up Eddie’s spine.

“Your skin is so soft.” Eddie whispered absently, kissing Richie’s wrist where their hands were still joined, now laying beside Eddie’s head as Richie used his elbows to hold himself up.

Richie stilled immediately, pausing for a moment before pulling out and flipping Eddie over on to his back. Eddie’s disoriented eyes darted around, blinking frantically as if that would make the darkness disappear. He was about to ask Richie why he’d stopped when he felt the same press of Richie’s chest easing down on to his own.

He knew Richie was close, could feel the hot breath escaping his lips and hear the labored breathing that accompanied it.

“You have the softest skin.” Richie said, placing an unexpected kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “And the best smelling hair.” He continued, threading his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “The sexiest body.” Richie hiked Eddie’s legs up to his chest, settling his lithe frame between them once again. “The most charming smile.” A press of Richie’s lips to Eddie’s informed him that Richie was wearing a smile of his own. “And the tightest ass I’ve ever felt.” Richie added with a small chuckle, rubbing his cock up and down Eddie’s hole before pushing back in very slowly.

Eddie’s breath hitched as Richie bottomed out, staying pressed in there tight as Richie lower his head to Eddie’s ear.

“And I’ve been in love with you for years.” He whispered, barely intelligible.

Relief that Eddie didn’t realized he’d been craving washed over him in a suffocating wave. Sex with Richie had been great so far; Eddie was out of his mind with lust for him, and that raw attraction alone had resulted in the best sex of Eddie’s life… But the other component that had made the sex so great for him was an unspoken secret that, until then, Eddie hadn’t thought was requited.

A sound similar to a sob escaped Eddie’s throat, and he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat as if Richie hadn’t already heard it.

“Eddie-”

“Me too.” Eddie cut him off, his determination just a beat behind. “I’ve felt that way for years too. Uhm, since seventh grade, actually.” Eddie’s voice was shy, as if he was afraid of baring too much of his soul.

“Well then I guess I win.” Richie responded coyly.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been in love with you since sixth grade; I have a whole year on you.”

Eddie gaped into the darkness above him, wishing there was enough light to throw Richie an unimpressed look.

“I didn’t even know I was gay in sixth grade!” Eddie defended, a lilt of humor coating his comment.

“Oh boy, you’re lucky. The gay crisis hit me strong as soon as I saw you in those little red shorts in gym class.”

Eddie tried to recall his memory of Richie back in sixth grade. He’d just begun hitting puberty and had shot up like a beanstalk, so none of his clothes had fit him quite right, and his walk had become a little awkward. That was also the year he’d broken his glasses and had to hold them together with tape. On top of all that, he’d talked about sex nearly constantly, despite having no real knowledge on the subject. Which, for tiny stuffy Eddie, who was still under his mother’s thumb at the time, was about one of the biggest turn-offs he could think of.

Richie had really grown into himself since then, an almost unrecognizable upgrade from the scrawny kid who’d eaten a worm because Beverly Marsh had dared him to. So, maybe it wasn’t exactly Eddie’s fault Richie wasn’t his ‘gay awakening’. Now, however, he was definitely awakening something inside Eddie. He’d grown into his figure, had developed a sense of style that worked for him, had since gotten new glasses that complimented his angular features and deep blue eyes aggressively well (and had zero tape holding them together). As for the last part, well… Richie still talked about sex just as much as he used to, but now he actually knew what he was talking about, and Eddie no longer shied away from the topic. In fact, that very combination of traits was what winded them in this exact position, and Eddie wasn’t complaining.

“Well, now that we’ve established that… new information…” Eddie swirled his hips tauntingly, earning a small groan of sexual frustration in return.

“Yeah, okay, moment over.” Richie agreed, pulling out with a shuddering breath before pushing back in just as gradually.

They built their pace back up slowly, the softness of their admissions making everything a little more tender.

Once Richie had set a bruising pace, and Eddie was getting used to the small puffs pushed out of him on every thrust, Richie suddenly changed angles.

“Hhhh-Ahhh!” Eddie screamed as Richie pounded right up into Eddie’s prostate without reservation.

Eddie’s body was gone, replaced with a firecracker. He could feel the fuse slowly lighting up every inch of his body as it burnt down.

Richie was also getting close, whispering in Eddie’s ear as his thrusts got quicker.

“I’m gonna cum, hnnnngg- fuck Eds, gonna fill you up, gonna have you dripping- aaahhhh-”

Eddie was right on the edge, so close but unable to topple over.

“Richie… I need… I need-”

Suddenly the room exploded in color and sound. The lights flickered a few times before coming back on, and the sound of their computer restarting melded with muffled cheers from down the hall. Despite the world coming back into focus, Eddie’s own mind was leaving. The sight of Richie above him, pale and lean and spilling sinful moans from his lips was enough to send Eddie over the edge. He tried to keep his eyes open as waves of pleasure rolled through him, but his pupils rolled back involuntarily. His muscles spasmed erratically as his body tried to move through the most powerful orgasm he’d ever endured. He clenched around Richie’s cock while spilling on to his own stomach, too preoccupied by his own euphoria to feel Richie’s stuttering hips, followed by the rush of warmth filling him up.

Richie’s legs shook violently as he emptied into Eddie. The sight of Eddie writhing beneath him, cheeks flush and brow drawn, had been too much for Richie to handle. It had only taken a few more pumps after the power came back on for him to be completely at the mercy of Eddie’s body.

Once Richie calmed down to have enough sense, he gently pulled out of Eddie and collapsed down beside him. Eddie had yet to reopen his eyes since his orgasm had hit, partly because he wanted to soak it all in, partly because he was afraid of what was to come next. When he did chance a peek through squinted eyes, Richie was watching him.

He shut his eyes again quickly, but not before he saw a smile being formed. He fought back his own smile as he willed his heart to calm down.

“Quit staring at me.” Eddie ordered with no real threat.

“I can’t. You’re too cute.”

Eddie opened one eye again, scrunching his nose as he looked back in Richie’s direction.

“’m not cute.” Eddie grumbled.

The bed dipped as Richie drew himself closer. Eddie opened both his eyes and let Richie come into focus.

“Yes, you are.” Richie bent forward, placing a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Cute…” A kiss on the other cheek. “…cute…” He hesitated once he was hovering over Eddie’s lips, searching his eyes for approval. Eddie gave a shy nod, letting Richie connect their lips for a soft kiss, unlike any of the other ones they’d shared. “…cute.” Richie whispered.

#reddie #reddie fluff #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie smut #reddie lemon #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it stephen king #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it lemon #my posts #my writing

[medialit-posting]

"My stand about Plagiarism, Piracy Bias Media, and the like.."

NEW BLOG CONTENT AHEAD!!!

We are living in a world where almost everything are readily accessible for all of us. We can easily research almost every information we desire and needed, we can download everything on the Internet; movies? games? music? name it! News and media information are readily available online, from journalistic article, news, blogs literally EVERYTHING is on the Internet and available online... Moreover we also have the presence of new and traditional media to satiate our endless needs. However, this usage lf Internet has its pros and cons. Various issues surfaced online, now I am going tp share to you my stand about my stand about Plagiarism, Piracy Bias Media, and the like... which are mostly issues surfaced in the digital world.

MY STAND ABOUT PLAGIARISM...

Plagiarism is known as the theft and dissemination of other people's words and ideas, if a person commits to this kind of crime he or she uses other people's words and ideas as if itvis theirs. Plagiarism is a heinous offence. It normally earns you an F on your work at the university level. Or if your university is stricy enough you're not able to graduate or finish the course that you're currently taking which would cause to give you a bad reputation or worse a bad life. Given that a student can also get thrown out of the institution if he or she plagiarizes repeatedly, one must avoid in doing or committing this kind of offensive violations. The punishments sanctions and the like, varies from the university or institution that you're part with or the violator's.

Why is plagiarism prevalent across universities? Some of them are linked to the way we access information. Don't you know a question answer? Just google it! Just google it! So we are a little like the dogs of Pavlov. The way we study, the same behaviour. In high school, students sometimes don't have ample research skills and instead look at anything online. This googling culture has a negative influence on the self-confidence of students. Students start most assignments by hearing what others have to suggest rather than thinking about themselves. As a business, we have a responsibility to empower students to feel assured that they can be great critical thinkers. Only thus will plagiarism be treated correctly. If a person is caught plagiarizing, his or her reputation is definitely tarnished and that person might lose their work. We all should obey the law just because we are just avoiding ourselves in getting caught. If we value original thought, personal integrity, and scholarly research, then we will naturally want to avoid plagiarism. That’s why it’s important to cite your sources and know how to integrate quotations properly. But if you only aim to be stop being caught, you're in great danger because you need to follow the law already. You would of course want to stop plagiarism if you respect original thinking, personal integrity and scientific evidence. Therefore, it is necessary to quote your sources and to know how to properly incorporate quotes.

Links for pictures :https://copyleaks.com/blog/how-do-plagiarism-detectors-work/

https://sundial.csun.edu/138189/opinions/the-heightened-use-of-plagiarized-essay-services/

Due to what was discussed above, one might think they would never commit to this kind of crime or act (Plagiarism). Unfortunately, to some or most people who commit to this kind of crime they have a lot of reasons. Here are the possible reasons or factors as to why some good workers and students sometimes plagiarize :

Panic of the last minute

Feels of insufficiency

Incomprehension of what plagiarism is

Note slippery

Copying ideas blindly, often in the same order

Work on a job and handing out similar documents

Quotations from the bibliography, but not from the paper

Yet ignorance is no excuse even when plagiarism is unintentional and unintentional. You must quote your own sources and argue.

From the discussion above, now I can conclude that I myself, all of us should stand AGAINST plagiarism. There are a lot of ways to fight and avoid committing such offensive act. We can always paraphrase, put references and include citations or quotations. Together let's stand AGAINST plagiarism and the people who commit such acts.

MY STAND ABOUT PIRACY...

If a person has a limited knowledge, he or she might say thay piracy only happens in the confines of the Earth's ocean. If you're this person then you need help- you have to be aware and be knowledgeable about the fact that piracy doesn't take place in the sea or ocean - it happens everyday in our lives, in business world, media and most especially it happens online. We love free items right? I mean who would want to spend money on things that we can get for free. However, this kind of mentality might lead us to doing illegal activities such as piracy without even knowing it. According to economic times the definition of piracy is that "Piracy refers to the unauthorized duplication of copyrighted content that is then sold at substantially lower prices in the 'grey' market. The ease of access to technology has meant that over the years, piracy has become more rampant. For example, CD writers are available off the shelf at very low prices, making music piracy a simple affair." There have been several regulations to prohibit secrecy. Internationally, piracy laws are strict and punitive in nature in developing countries. It does not gain attention nationally in Asian countries, and more in India too, because of more engaging topics. However, the industry has been involved in stemming red, in particular IT and music industry. These organisations identify music piracy outlets and then carry out police raids. However, there are few convictions and the punishment is not sufficiently harsh to discourage.

Link for the picture https://haulixdaily.com/2019/02/piracy-access-2019

Video pirates, cable piracy and DVD/CD piracy are achieved in several different ways. The film is made by a video-cassette without the correct permission of the right holder - i.e. producer. Video piracy takes place. Film producers also sell video rights to another group, who makes video cassettes for sale or loaning (typically after six weeks of release in theatres). The on sale video cassettes are only intended for home views. Cable piracy applies to illegal cable network transmission of films. Films, in particular new releases, are often seen via cable without the rights holder's permission. Piracy in satellite channels is an unusual occurrence, since they are structured and do not usually screen movies without purchasing right. Music piracy involves the illegal reuse of music cassettes, which flood the market until a new release is released. The sales of music companies hit hard by the influx of pirated compact disks and cassettes, as they are in store at considerably lower prices. In the foreign market there is DVD/VCD piracy of Indian films. The prints sent for film screening abroad are usually pirated at any airport in the Middle East. Prints of DVD/VCD are able to be sent to Pakistan. Such prints can also travel from Pakistan to Nepal and come by land to the country.

link for the picture https://variety.com/2018/digital/news/piracy-survey-illegal-content-muso-1202829757/amp/

From the discussion given above, I conclude that me and you ; all of us should stand against piracy. Although we get to consume media products for a lower price or some are even free we should remember that the people behind these media products worked really hard fro their movies, songs or music etc. to get produced... We should enable and let humanity win against "practicality". Therefore I encourage everyone to stand AGAINST piracy and against the people who continues to commit this kind of crime.

MY STAND ABOUT BIAS MEDIA AND THE LIKE...

As time continues to pass by, our technology continues to get advance. However, the presence of traditional media is still very much alive and kicking as to this industry continues its best to be in the competition. We continue to use simultaneously the media products offered by both new and traditional media... Now the concern is are we really keen enough in making sure that what media products we consume are not biased? How do I stand in this issue and the like (other related issues regarding media bias, piracy and plagiarism.)

According to lumen learning media bias "Media bias is the bias of journalists and news producers in the selection of events and stories that are reported, and how they are covered." addition to thay according to them "The term “media bias” implies a pervasive or widespread bias contravening the standards of journalism, rather than the perspective of an individual journalist or article. The direction and degree of media bias in various countries is widely disputed." From this we can say that not all information presented in the media are the information that we have to believe to. We should not let ourselves be spoofed by these journalists, television programmers, broadcasters, writers etc. we should take time to analyze and even fact check the information that we have received. Information that you might have read online, heard on the radio, or even the news you watch on your favourite channel. We should analyze and think if the information or news is biased or not.

link for the picture https://dailybruin.com/2019/05/09/the-quad-media-coverage-skewed-by-biases-of-journalists-american-society

"Practical limitations to media neutrality include the inability of journalists to report all available stories and facts, and the requirement that selected facts be linked into a coherent narrative. Because it is impossible to report everything, selectivity is inevitable. Government influence, including overt and covert censorship, biases the media in some countries, for example North Korea and Burma. Market forces that result in a biased presentation include the ownership of the news source, concentration of media ownership, the selection of staff, the preferences of an intended audience, and pressure from advertisers." (Candela, 2019). This is true and is happening in our country, based on what my teacher have said the a television channel is so biased in reporting, writing and heading of news towards the president and the government in general. She also stated how this channel has been violating laws in paying tax that's why it was forced to shutdown from giving its services. Since, I think highly of my teacher I think she really has a point and one might think that the closure of the said station if for everyone's good. We should not tomerate media bias, just like what happened to a certain news channel we should take action if we can to fight media bias.

link for the picture https://thecord.ca/how-media-bias-effects-reader-perception/

There is an attempt to correct bias; the round table is a method used to prevent bias, in which members of opposing viewpoints comment on an issue. This approach allows different viewpoints to be expressed in the media in principle. The organizer of the report is also responsible, however, for selecting people who really represent the broad opinion, for asking non-detrimental questions and fairly editing and arbitrating their statements. A point/counterpoint may be as unjust as a simple biased article if done carelessly, implying that the losing party has lost its merits.

The disclosure of affiliations which can be viewed as a potential conflict of interest is another tactic used to prevent partialism. This is particularly obvious when a news outlet publishes a story that is important to the news organization or its owners or conglomerates. The laws or regulations regulating stocks and shares typically include this divulgation. Commentators on stock news stories are also compelled in these companies or in their rivals to reveal their ownership interests.

Overall what is my standing towards media bias (piracy and plagiarism) and the like... well just like what I have said in the previous paragraphs together we should stand AGAINST media bias, piracy, plagiarism and the like because it is the right thing to do. We should eradicate toxicity and evil in our world whether its digital or not. It is our jobs as human beings to spread humanity whether it is online or not, we should always consider going against issues like this so that slowly but surely we can change the world the we are currently live on for the future generations and for the betterment of all human beings.

REFERENCES :

https://natureofwriting.com/courses/essay-writing/lessons/doing-research-2/topic/plagiarism/

https://courses.lumenlearning.com/boundless-politicalscience/chapter/media-bias/

https://m.economictimes.com/definition/piracy

[butimnotasexyrussian]

Quarantined

Hey, so remember when @backlandsofbutter asked me for an Alver family quarantine fic literally a month ago? Finals are this week and it turns out I’d rather do anything than study so have 3k+ words of some fluffy shenanigans. Can be read alone, or as a follow up to Mia Famiglia. Happy belated birthday! I hope you’re staying safe and sane.

Rose is in the kitchen making dinner when the home improvement show she had on for background noise is interrupted by breaking news. She comes out of the kitchen, her hands still covered in bits of cauliflower, to take a closer look. Even Mia, laying on the floor reading a book, sits up to pay attention.

"Lu!" Rose calls.

Luisa pokes her head out of her office. "Yes, dear?"

"Mama, the whole state's being put into quarantine," Mia says. "Come see!"

Luisa wraps an arm around Rose's waist and leans her head on Rose's shoulder.

"Are we gonna be okay?" Mia asks, craning her neck to stare up at them.

"Of course we are," Luisa says, crouching to fondly push Mia's bangs back from her forehead. "It's what's best for all of us."

"It'll be okay, kiddo. You'll get to stay home from school. It'll be like a family staycation."

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about," Mia says.

Luisa frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, Mommy and I will be fine. We're introverts. But you love seeing your friends and chatting with the vendors at the farmer's market. Are you gonna be okay?"

Luisa's frown turns into a mock scowl. "Don't you worry about me. I'll be fine. I've spent years wanting a family and now I can spend all the time I want with you. This is a dream come true." She hugs Mia tight.

Mia side-eyes Rose, who shakes her head slightly and smiles. When Luisa pulls back, Mia plasters on a wide smile.

The first week goes surprisingly well, all things considered. Luisa doesn't get as much work done as she'd like, but it's a small price to pay to spend all day taking calls in her pajamas with her feet up on the desk.

Rose is tempted to fall back into bad habits and work all day and night but Luisa keeps her on track. She'd trained her years ago to get up at four sharp.  All it had taken really was an ultimatum: "If you stop working at five, I'll give you a kiss." Obviously, it wasn't perfect but within weeks, all Luisa had to say was, "It's five," and Rose would turn off her monitor and get up to kiss Luisa.

("This is like being Pavlov's dog," Rose had once complained halfheartedly after her kiss.

Luisa patted her cheek. "It's for your own good. You know you get so grumpy if you sit there all night."

"I suppose," Rose grumbled before she left to start dinner.)

Luisa is starting to feel the pinch of quarantine after the first few days but she video calls friends and family and is determined to look on the bright side of things.

"Oh no, I'm fine," Luisa insists, before she shovels a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

Petra raises a skeptical eyebrow over Zoom.

"Don't look at me like that. Really, I'm fine. I still have my job and I'm lucky enough to work at home and be with my family. None of us are sick and we have enough food and toilet paper at least for the next month. I really don't have anything to complain about."

"Be that as it may, there's a global pandemic going on right now. You don't have to be okay, you know."

Luisa nods. "Which is what I've been telling all my clients. I know, Petra. You don't have to worry about me."

"Do you remember when you took that vow of silence because your shaman told you you had to learn to be fully present with your other senses?"

"Oh yeah!"

"Remind me again how long that lasted."

"Ten hours, but that's different! There were so many people at the hotel asking me questions, constantly. The hotel in general isn't very conducive to being zen. A vow of silence and being quarantined are totally different."

Petra shrugs. "I'm just saying, you don't do well when you have a limit on something you can't do."

"Hey!"

"Am I wrong?"

"I'm not going to be one of those crazy people who bangs on the doors of the state senate demanding for the state to be reopened."

"Well no, you're reasonable, I'll give you that, but just...don't underestimate the situation, that's all. And I know you have Rose and Mia, but like, don't hesitate to reach out. Or don't. Whatever."

Luisa gasps in an exaggerated fashion. "Petra, you do care!"

"Don't make it a thing."

"I'm gonna give you a Zoom hug."

"You get two seconds before I hang up."

...

The second week is harder for Luisa. Rose and Mia are both fine. Rose spends eight hours madly clicking her mouse and barking orders through her phone and then stops working at five. Mia wanders in and out of her classes as she pleases, especially since her teachers had to rush to slap together an online curriculum at the last minute. Otherwise, they catch up on shows and read.

Luisa, however, finds that she's getting listless. She can't seem to focus on work for more than ten minutes before she has to get up and do something. She usually peeks in on Mia and/or Rose but they can only handle so many cut up carrots and celery. She tries to make smoothies but then she feels guilty for not working so she sits back down at her desk but she still can't focus.

On Tuesday, she decides she's going to deep clean the entire house.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Lu," Rose says cautiously.

"Why not?" Luisa asks, even though she's already dragged an ancient steam cleaner out from some forgotten corner of the house.

"I feel that we're going to half-ass it and then we'll get distracted and leave it for like half a year. I forgot we even had a steam cleaner."

"It'll be fine. Might as well get something done during quarantine."

"What's that thing you keep telling your patients? You don't need to feel guilty for not doing anything productive during quarantine?" Rose asks pointedly.

"Okay, but this will actually make me feel a lot better."

Rose sighs. "If you say so."

...

A few days later, Rose hears suspicious noises from the roof. "Luisa?" she says as she walks through the house. "Did raccoons nest in the attic again?"

But she realizes the rickety ladder leading up to the attic itself is folded down.

"Mia?" she calls.

"Yeah?"

"Just making sure it wasn't you in the attic."

"We have an attic?" Mia asks, appearing at Rose's elbow.

"Yeah, we shoved a bunch of stuff up there before we got you. Stay here, don't--"

But before she can finish her sentence, Mia's already scaled the ladder and poked her head through the ceiling. "Hey, Mama. Whatcha doin?"

Rose sighs and climbs the ladder as well. She greets both of them with a sneeze. "Lu, is this really necessary?"

"I'm deep-cleaning everything." She rubs her nose, leaving a smudge of dust. "Everything."

"Oh cool! What's this?" Mia asks, digging through a box.

Luisa scoots over. "Oh," she sighs fondly. "You found our fake passports." She flips through them. "Here's your Susanna face. And your Eileen face! These were some good times."

"Why did you need passports from Australia, Italy, and Panama? Isn't one enough?"

Rose kneels next to her and starts to rifle through the box as well. "Hiding from Interpol is harder than it seems." She stops suddenly. "Luisa, are these the love letters I wrote you?"

"Oh. Um, yeah," Luisa says sheepishly.

"I told you to burn them, though."

"Why?" Mia asks.

"So no one would read them and realize we were having an affair."

"I think it's romantic," Mia says, unfolding one that's yellowed with age. "This one starts with, 'My angel, flung out of space.' What does that mean?"

"It's a line from a movie called Carol," Rose says. "We'll watch it when you're older."

"So you actually burned all my letters?" Luisa asks, feeling the old paper crinkle under her hands.

"Not exactly..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"They're tucked under the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I read them sometimes when you're in the shower and I miss you."

"Love letters are romantic. Whatever this is,” Mia says, gesturing between the two of them, “is just sappy and gross.”

"She's right, you know," Luisa says, smiling over at Rose. "You are such a huge sap."

"Watch it. My guns are stashed somewhere up here," Rose says.

"Where?" Mia jumps to her feet.

"That doesn't make you any less of a sap." Luisa shakes her head. "That just makes you American."

...

By the end of the week, the house is spotless.

"Huh," Rose says, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

Luisa pats her on the cheek. "No worries since you did clean out the gutters, re-fence the garden, and finally fix the lawnmower."

"Did you get rid of all that restlessness?"

"For now. In the meantime, wanna watch the next episode of Tiger King? I wanna see if they ever find any evidence that shady Carole Baskin killed her husband."

...

Luisa's motto during the third week is "treat yo self." But apparently the line between depression and nihilism is finer than she realizes.

"Lu, are you okay?" Rose asks one day after Luisa's done with a call.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Luisa's bunny slipper-clad feet twitch on her desk.

"I love you no matter what, but I'm worried about you. Is the depression worsening?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You've been sleeping a lot more than usual, it seems like you can't concentrate on anything, and you keep holding the cat's face and asking him if he loves you."

"There's nothing wrong with that." It comes off as more defensive than Luisa means.

"I guess not, but you have to admit it's out of the ordinary for you."

"Time isn't real. Birth is a curse and existence is a prison."

"Fair point. But really, is there anything I can do?"

Luisa is quiet for a while. "Will you, though? Will you still love me even though I'm disgusting and I've let myself go because I don't put on deodorant or a bra since I haven't left the house in three weeks?"

Rose sighs, leaving her chair to pull Luisa's legs off her desk. Rose stands between her legs, holding her hands and leaning their foreheads together. "I will love you no matter how gross you get. I promised to love you for better or worse, in sickness and in health, til death do us part, and I meant every word with all of my heart."

Luisa brightens. "In that case, there is one thing you can do for me."

"Name it."

"Four words: vegan milkshake drinking contest."

...

The three of them sit at the breakfast nook, gargantuan milkshakes before each of them.

"Okay, everyone have their timer apps open? When you finish your milkshake, stop the timer."

"Lu, why would you make us go through with this?" Rose asks, her face pained.

"First off, haven't you ever wanted to see exactly how fast you can chug a milkshake?"

"Not particularly," Rose says.

"Hell yes!" Mia shouts, banging her spoon on the table.

"Swear jar," Luisa says.

"But Mamaaa, it's not even a bad word. It's in the Bible!"

"I'll let it slide."

"You know she's going to appeal all her offenses now that you've let this one go," Rose says.

"I'll review it on a case-by-case basis. But anyway, no better time than being stuck inside forever to find out who's the fastest chugger in this family."

"Seriously, are you okay?" Rose asks.

"People need to stop asking me that. Ready to lose, losers? On your mark, get set, go!"

Rose taps out after a quarter of her shake, sinking to the floor and moaning about a brain freeze.

Mia and Luisa are neck and neck for the rest of the race but Mia pulls ahead in the final thirty seconds. She slams her palm on her phone and jumps to her feet, dancing over Rose, who's still on the floor.

"HA! TWO MINUTES AND TWENTY SECONDS. BEAT THAT!"

Luisa scowls. "You just got lucky. Best two out of three?"

"Please, no," Rose mumbles.

...

Five milkshake races later (Luisa won best two out of three, but Mia won best three out of five, and Rose was in charge of making the milkshakes because she refused to participate anymore), Mia and Luisa are splayed out on the living room carpet, their stomachs puffy.

"Mommy, it hurts to breathe," Mia whines, curling up on her side.

"Me too," Luisa moans.

"I hope you two have learned your lesson about trying to out-drink each other," Rose says briskly. "Come on, don't lay down, either of you."

When Mia doesn't move, Rose lifts her up onto one of the couches, propping her against one of the arms.

"Me too," Luisa says again, raising her arms to be carried.

Rose sighs but she bends to gather Luisa into her arms. "You're lucky you're cute," she says, only grunting a little when she lifts her.

"I know."

Rose fills up two hot water bottles and clucks when she hands them out. She notices Mia's hair is sticking to her forehead. "Kiddo, you're very warm."

Mia just groans.

Rose comes back with a wet washcloth and sits on the edge of the couch to lay the washcloth on Mia's forehead. Luisa can't help the surge of affection that swells in her chest, watching Rose's soft expression as she brushes back Mia's hair. She doesn't think she'll ever try to drink five milkshakes within a twenty minute period again, but maybe this was worth it to see this small tender moment.

Luisa and Mia lay in their milkshake-induced comas for the next few hours. Rose turns on She-Ra for some background noise as she makes dinner.

The two of them are feeling much better by dinnertime: portobello veggie burgers.

"Well, after that ordeal--" Luisa starts after they finish eating.

"That you brought upon yourself," Rose adds.

"After that unfortunate and completely unexpected ordeal that literally no one could've see coming," Luisa states again, "I have another idea."

"Is it another milkshake race? Because you know I'll beat you again," Mia says.

Rose sighs. "Have neither of you learned your lesson?"

"As I was laying there, dying, through no fault of my own," Luisa begins. Rose rolls her eyes. Mia giggles. "I realized that what we really need is some time for vital indulgence. How do you guys feel about a spa night?"

"Really?" Rose asks.

Luisa's face falls. "Why? Do you think it's a bad idea?"

"No," she says, leaning over to press her lips against Luisa's temple. "I think it's a perfectly reasonable idea."

"Good, because I found this recipe for a sugar scrub and I think it's pretty amazing because it's in all caps and littered with expletives."

Rose nods. "That's how you know it's a good recipe."

...

It's still light outside but that doesn't stop Luisa from digging out her vast collection of crystals and candles. She debates lighting incense as well but Rose vetoes that. "It'll be too smoky and overpowering."

Mia begs to light all the candles so Rose hands her one of the long grill lighters. As they watch Mia run around, flicking it on and off and laughing manically, they grin at each other. "She's definitely ours, isn't she?" Rose says.

"Yup. Hey, just out of curiosity, how's our home insurance?"

Rose knows exactly what she's thinking. "There's definitely a clause that covers arson."

"Oh good."

"Look, this candle is named 'Girl, You Need to Calm the F down!'" Mia says.

"Ain't that the truth," Rose says.

Luisa sets up stations, so while someone's finishing up the sugar scrub and enjoying a bath bomb in the tub (accompanied by more candles), there's an open spot to apply a homemade matcha face mask, a seat for mani/pedis, and one for massages.

"Ah, that's just what I needed," Mia says when she exits the bathroom in a bathrobe accompanied by plumes of steam.

"What do you wanna do next?" Luisa asks, applying the last of the face mask.

"Can I have a massage?"

"Of course. Go sit backwards in that chair. I'll be right there."

Rose is squinting at her toenails, a bit of tongue poking from between her teeth. "How do they keep their hands so steady? It never looks that hard when I go to the nail salon." She lifts her foot for them to see. There's flecks of scarlet nail polish on her skin.

"Oh, let me know if you guys ever wanna go to a nail salon," Luisa says. "One of my Vietnamese friends offered to tell us what they're saying about us behind our backs."

"Hmmm, I might take you up on that offer," Rose says, staring glumly at her handiwork.

"Okay, baby, what kind of pressure are you looking for? Light, medium, or firm?" Luisa asks Mia, applying lotion to her hands.

"Extra firm, like the good tofu," Mia mutters, resting her chin on the back of the chair.

As Luisa works the lotion into her shoulders, she frowns. "You weren't kidding. You have some big knots back here."

"Tell me about it. English is killing me."

Luisa makes the appropriate sympathetic noises as Mia complains about her online classes.

...

On Thursday night, Luisa bursts into the office exactly at five. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I don't know, make dinner, hang out with my girls, and go to bed early, just like every other night. Why do you ask?"

"We're having a movie marathon!"

"What are we watching?"

"I was thinking Planet of the Apes. Only the reboot, though. I can't take the actors in monkey suits seriously. And even with breaks, we should wrap up by eleven, for the geriatric among us."

“Don’t make fun of me or I won’t participate at all.”

"You can't!" Mia says, popping up under Luisa's arm. "Mama says first one to fall asleep gets her face drawn on."

"Would you disappoint our child like this?" Luisa asks, squishing Mia's cheeks for good measure. "Give her the puppy dog eyes."

And as Mia widens her eyes, Rose sighs. "Fine, fine."

"Awesome!" Luisa claps her hands together once. It's a bad habit she picked up from the other soccer moms to convey that she's about to make an important announcement. "Everyone go to the bathroom now. There will be limited potty breaks available if we're gonna wrap things up by eleven. I'm making sundaes."

"I've got the Costco crack!" Mia says, scurrying toward the pantry.

"We're out of it!" Rose calls.

"Nuh-uh! I found your secret stash behind the prunes!"

"Goddammit," Rose mutters.

...

It isn't until the end of the first movie that Rose becomes suspicious. "Did you pick these movies because most of the human population is wiped out by the simian flu?"

"No!" Luisa protests. But when Rose raises an eyebrow, she says, "Okay, well I was thinking about it. But this whole franchise has very strong themes about race and war. It encourages deeper thought."

"Hmmm, when's your next therapy appointment?"

"Tomorrow. I'll bring it up, but I wish you wouldn't worry so much. It's not a terrible way of coping."

"Shhh," Mia says. "The second movie's starting."

To no one's surprise, Rose is the first to fall asleep. She wakes up to "Mia hearts Mommy" and "World's Sweetest Wife" written in permanent marker on her face.

Her Zoom meetings are interesting that day.

...

It seems like the thrill of nihilism wears off quickly, because during the fourth week, Luisa becomes an exercise nut.

"Look! I found this online program for yoga. I was gonna do it on the deck so we can wake up with the sun. Do you wanna do it with me?"

"Not really," Rose mumbles. "Especially not at five in the morning."

"All we've been doing is lazing about inside and eating junk food."

"Whose idea was that?"

Luisa ignores that. "This quarantine is the perfect time to start healthy habits!"

"Nooo," Rose moans.

"Just do five minutes with me and then you can crawl back into bed, okay?"

"Don't wanna."

"I'll make dinner tonight if you do."

There's a reason Rose does most of the cooking, but there's one thing Luisa cooks that makes Rose drool.

Rose yawns. "The roasted eggplant with the yogurt sauce?"

"The roasted eggplant with the yogurt sauce."

As Rose shambles out to the deck, she sees Mia sitting at the counter rubbing her eyes. "She got you with the eggplant and the yogurt sauce too, huh?"

Mia nods.

It's not too bad, Rose thinks, as the ridiculously chipper woman on Luisa's laptop walks them through very basic poses. It's clear this is for total beginners. Rose does feel marginally better after the first video ends but not enough to warrant being awake at this ungodly hour.

"Have fun, Lu," Rose says, kissing Luisa's forehead as she tries some complicated maneuver. "I'm going back to bed."

Mia gave up halfway through and decided to curl up on her mat. She's already snoring softly. Rose picks her up and carries her back inside.

"Thanks for giving me five minutes, at least," Luisa says. "I'll find something we can do as a family."

Rose waits until her back is to Luisa before she winces.

...

The next day, Luisa drags the bikes out of the back of the garage.

"You're really feeling the effects of isolation, huh?" Rose asks, as she takes a sip of her tea.

"That has nothing to do with this," Luisa pants as she pumps up the tires.

"We haven't ridden those bikes in like two years."

"We've been busy! Things got in the way."

"You don't have to pretend things are perfect, you know."

"I know, I know. Hey Mia, can you see if this helmet still fits you?"

Ten minutes later, they're riding down the neighborhood street. It's a nice day, not too hot yet. They see a fair amount of people out and about, although everyone's keeping the appropriate amount of distance away from each other.

After a loop around their neighborhood and the next one over, they decide to head back. It's not a very long ride, maybe about a half hour but when they get home, Rose knows she's going to be feeling the burn for the next day at least.

"That was nice, right?" Luisa asks, as she tries to shove her bike back in front of her car.

"Yeah. I didn't realize how much I missed being outside," Rose admits.

"Better than yoga, for sure," Mia chimes in.

"Let's aim for a few times a week," Luisa says. "Nothing too intense. Just something to ground ourselves. My therapist said that was important."

It actually becomes more or less a daily thing. It calms Luisa, and although both Rose and Mia were just fine being stuck inside, they can't deny the bike rides don't make them feel worse.

...

At the end of their fifth week in quarantine, Luisa scoots over to Rose's desk at five. "Hey, wanna climb the roof?"

Rose grins. "I feel like owning the house takes away any illicit thrill that might evoke."

"We'll take Mia. Come on, it'll be a clear night. I wanna show you something."

"After dinner?"

"Mmhmm."

"Okay."

...

After dinner, Rose opens their bedroom window and shimmies up onto a little outcropping of the roof. Mia does a little hop and skip, making it just fine. Rose holds onto the edge of the roof and swings back, holding out a hand to Luisa. She hauls Luisa out and up onto the roof.

"Okay, what are we looking for?" Rose asks.

Luisa unhooks a basket from the crook of her elbow and pulls out a blanket that she spreads it out on a relatively flat part of the roof. She also unpacks a bottle of sparkling juice and plastic champagne flutes. "Come sit down. We're gonna watch the sunset and maybe stargaze a little, depends on if it stays warm."

They talk about what's going on at school and work, and trade jokes.

"Oh, I made a playlist for tonight," Rose says, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

"For what?"

"It's called 'Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof.' I figured it was appropriate."

"You named it after a Katy Perry lyric?"

"It's a good song!"

"Weren't you working all day today? When did you have time to make a playlist?" Mia asks.

"I wasn't that busy today."

"You're always busy," Luisa says.

"Okay, I skipped my lunch break to make you a playlist. It's all songs about mildly illegal activities, but this isn't even illegal since it's our own house."

Luisa laughs as a Kanye song starts to play. "You have the worst taste in music."

"Shhh, just listen and enjoy the sunset," Rose says, but she's smiling too.

They're quiet for a while as the sky turns dusky shades of orange and pink.

"You know," Luisa says, "this whole situation still sucks, but these little moments with the two of you makes me feel so much better."

"Love you too, Mama," Mia says.

"I guess you guys are alright to be quarantined with," Rose says.

Luisa rolls her eyes.

They sip their sparkling wine as the first stars start to appear.

#idk why this took me so fucking long #i'm so sorry #roisa #prompts