#good friends without empathy

[marlowe1-blog]

The Book of Job chapter 6

Job offers a rebuttal

So Job is not nearly as angry with Eliphaz as I was. I guess Job is too tired to be angry. Instead he disputes the notion that G-d will punish him for what he's saying. He's already destroyed. What is G-d going to do to him? Killing him would be a mercy at this point.

I would be much less poetic to the "happy is the man who God reproves". Certainly I wouldn't be talking about calamity heavier than the sands on the sea and arrows of the Almighty in me.

This might prove more difficult than I thought. There's a LOT of great poetry in this book (even in the not terribly poetic JPS translation). I am reminded of my Theater History class in college where we got to Hamlet and everyone just started talking about how much they loved the poetry. Like every other work we could talk about themes, characters, staging, etc. But Hamlet just hypnotized everyone and the professor noted that almost every class has very little to say about Hamlet when they are first introduced. Which is weird since there is way MORE to say about Hamlet than Oedipus Rex or the Revenger's Tale.

His words go from general to specific. He notes that only the suffering cry out. Then goes back to the "If only God would destroy me" before pointing out that his friends are useless. Worse than useless. Sure first he compares them to melting ice, but then he goes "do you devise words of reproof but count a hopeless man's words as wind? You would even cast lots over an opran, or barter away your friend."

But continually he is going "tell me that I'm wrong"

So this is getting long, but today I was reminded of a particular noxious individual that I considered a friend before Obama won and then still considered a friend until the fact that every time I said hello he just glared at me. I later learned that he told mutual friends about how much he hated me. He was always a creepy dude so I wasn't terribly concerned about him cutting ties with me, but he founded a publishing company and his family still runs it so it's annoying that he publishes some cool Jewish books that I would love to buy if I wasn't giving that mamzer money.

Anyhow on the way home, I looked him up to see what he's been doing. Jumping from job to job. Had a time as a pulpit rabbi (left after a year so probably molesting some congregants) and a lot of articles about how abortion is murder complete with taking that Project Veritas "abortion" video at face value.

I found his LinkedIn account (I swear it only took 10 minutes to look all this stuff up) and saw that he responded to a post about how "Man, that's tough" being a good thing to say to someone being overwhelmed with a bitchy self-aggrandizing post about how he needs PRACTICAL ADVICE when he's feeling overhwhelmed. He even said that he's playing devil's advocate.

So I told him that he sounds like Eliphaz the Temanite (he's a rabbi so he should get the reference) and that I have advice for him, stop being a noxious lying little shit.

I'm not proud of myself for that.

But it's fascinating to see that this guy (who also used to post articles on Facebook about how you should be EMOTIONALLY STRONG) is still about as knowledgeable about human emotions as he was back when he was the glaring asshole of Washington Heights.

Oh shit. It's not even about him. It's about another friend who just sent me an email inviting me to her philosophy group at Columbia. We haven't talked since she went off the deep end stanning for the CCP.

Oh. Damn.

Anyhow. Job is wondering why his friends have nothing to help him beyond reproof and bullshit statements like "happy is the man who God reproves" And as a reader, I'm wondering why these guys are acting that way.

But I miss a friend and because I can't really talk to her and there's really no way I see us ever being friends again, I look up a shitty dude that I never liked that much in the first place.

Can you believe I write term papers for a living? One thing I have over ChatGPT is the fact that I'll never start throwing in these personal asides.

[hedgehog-moss]

Various ways in which I have underestimated my chickens (callout post to myself):

cognitive abilities (memory): I dropped some pasta while making a salad earlier and Louise was nearby so I opened the door and invited her into the kitchen to come clean up. At first she just meandered round the room glaring suspiciously at furniture because she's unfamiliar with the inside of my house, then I helped her locate the pasta and she pounced, but before she could eat all of them Morille came zooming across the room with Pandolf zooming behind her, which freaked out the hen who noisily flew-ran out of the room. She stayed away long enough that when I called her inside again I expected her to have forgotten all about the pasta, and that I would have to show it to her again, but instead she went straight for it, resolutely, having clearly kept this important goal in a corner of her teeny tiny mind this whole time.

hunting abilities: before getting chickens I didn't realise they actually hunted? (sometimes.) I pictured their search for food as quiet foraging, busily scratching the dirt for worms, but a) hens are never quiet they're always chattering to each other so already that part was wrong; b) when they find a worthy prey they hunt it with the fierce determination of a mountain lion. I once saw Dru chasing a grasshopper across half the pasture, running at full chicken speed and sometimes boosting herself with her wings Mario kart-style while the grasshopper desperately hopped for its life, until eventually she pounced with her beak wide open and managed to catch it mid-jump. With an action movie soundtrack this scene would have been every bit as intense and gripping as a cheetah hunting a gazelle in a wildlife documentary.

social abilities (empathy): one time Cordélia had a little bit of grass stuck in her eye and she kept rubbing her head with her claw to try and dislodge it unsuccessfully, and then she seemingly asked Dru for help, placing her face very close to the other hen's face like "see that stupid twig?" and Dru removed it with her beak. Again that's not something I would have expected from a hen... they're very disloyal creatures, so it was fascinating to see. They would stab their grandma for a dusty rigatoni but leaving a friend with something stuck in her eye is apparently a level of antisocial even chickens won't cross.

social abilities pt.2 (romantic sensibility): sometimes when the night sky is clear and you can see the Milky Way, instead of tucking themselves in at sundown like they usually do, they'll fly to the roof of their coop and sit there for a little while to watch the stars together. Okay this one may be a tiny bit less scientific an observation than the others but I don't have an explanation for this behaviour; I've never noticed anything wrong with their coop on these particular nights, the door is open, they can go in—and the girls don't seem stressed at all, if anything they look like they're having a nice peaceful moment and I feel bad for bothering them.

[farosdaughter]

There's no rule that says Coriolanus Snow can't be a romantic and a gentleman to his girlfriend while at the same time as being an evil dictator villian with the blood of millions of teens and children on his hands. He can be both. It makes him more intriguing that he can be both. That he has empathy for a certain number of people, but can't spare more than that(I headcanon that he was a good grandfather to his grandchildren)

PREACH!

If things had gone slightly different in canon, I’m convinced Snow would’ve had a loving marriage while still becoming the villain we know in THG. After all, his decision to forsake romantic love after the events of TBOSAS is in itself a testament to the depth of his feelings for Lucy Gray.

Love doesn’t equal redemption or goodness, and the fact that he’s a fundamentally selfish person in a position of power doesn’t mean Snow isn’t also capable of human emotions and attachment. Especially when the prequel makes the opposite argument. I agree with you that in canon he seemed like a loving grandfather even as he reached unheard of levels of cruelty as President.

His innate possessiveness would on the contrary make him a very doting and protective husband (to the right woman, sorry Livia). Whether the relationship would have stood the test of time (and of his thirst for power) is another matter entirely. Most AUs where Coryo and Lucy Gray go back to the Capitol and he goes into government have her betraying him in the end, and I also think that would the most likely outcome. Theirs is a monstrous love, etc etc

[abstractlesbian]

Find someone slightly annoying but in really small harmless ways so I decide none of the behaviours are worth bringing up with them → realizing: hey, Im also annoying! solidarity! → realizing we have a lot in common and starting to bond → finding out other people find this person annoying and are vocal about it behind their back → finding out this person has ADHD like me that's (at least one reason) why we have all these traits in common → fear.

[artemx746]

really hope it becomes much more clear in the future of fool's gold that the foreclaimers aren't bad because they don't have empathy, but rather because they based their society on people having a set "value" and killing people who aren't "Valuable enough". Plus they also tortured a god for 300+ years

[thelostboys87]

beau and felix are like autistic guy x non autistic guy but it's actually good and not damaging for the autistic person because they're actually treated like a human equal to the non autistic person

[famewolf]

https://www.tumblr.com/famewolf/717956178790039552 the argument “you’re trans friends / jewish friends etc etc wont trust you” is so silly like i’ve never even met a trans or jewish person why does everyone assume we have them as friends :/

I'm baffled. The answer is simply, 'not everything ever said is about you'. No one assumed anything, but you sure did assume that this post was about you, despite you saying to yourself 'hey, I don't relate to this, why is this about me? Why are people talking about me?' This comment was towards "allies" who still put their friends and loved ones at risk because they lack basic fortitude. If you aren't friends with folks different from you, if you lack the ability to accept or understand people different from you, then I hope that one day you gain Empathy as an ability. Life without it is barely life at all.

[blueslight]

Man

[honeysuckle-s]

just did my first practice therapy sesh!!!!

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[cassielovesnewt]

Mistletoe | R.Lupin x reader

| harrypotter x aunt!reader | remuslupin x fem!reader | golden trio era |

Synopsis: after the death of your brother, you take in your nephew as your own, shutting everyone else out in your grief. However, once you’re reunited with an old friend in Harry’s third year, old feelings start to come to the surface as you help each other through your grief.

WARNINGS: mentions of dea!h, mentions of grief. (In this story, let’s say Voldemorts curse bounced off Harry and killed moldy voldy for good, Harry has a normal childhood)

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“Thank you, for standing with me.” You say, watching as the train leaves the station for the fourth time since your nephew had been accepted into Hogwarts. “It’s always so hard watching him go.”

“It’s no problem at all, you know that.” Remus told you, placing a tentative hand on your arm as you play with your hands worriedly.

It was the same overwhelming anxiety year after year, watching the only family you have left, the only part of James you have left, slip further and further away into the distance.

You and your brother were inseparable, known quite rarely as James and y/n, but more commonly as the Potter Twins. It was a rare occurrence to see one of you without the other, especially at school.

You weren’t with him when he died. No, you were in your own house, washing dishes by hand, because you were to bored to do it by magic. You weren’t with him, but you felt it. Like a knife through the chest, you felt the part of your soul that belonged to him fracture into a million pieces. Your heart that matched his break and turn cold as the glass you held fell to the floor.

You knew part of yourself had died, but not which part.

Not until you reached the Potter’s house.

Not until you found yourself screaming until your throat was raw, begging your brother to wake up.

When you finally heard the crying of a baby over your own sobs, you knew you had to take him before Dumbledore got his hands on him, taking him away from you forever.

“Hello, little one, Auntie y/n’s going to keep you safe.” You whispered, your voice only a fracture of what it used to be.

You tried not to look towards the lifeless form of what used to be one of your greatest friends.

You raised Harry as if he was your own, teaching him everyday about the parents he lost, because you would be damned if James Potter would ever be forgotten.

“I know it’s not, but still, thank you.” You tell him, before turning your head to look into his kind eyes. “You can come over, if you like? Despite what Harry might have told you, I’m a good cook.”

“That would be nice.” Remus chucked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

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Sitting with Remus at your kitchen table, you started to realise just how much you had missed him.

“I let him keep the map, last year.” He told you, a small grin tugging at his lips as he sipped his tea.

“Remus Lupin, despite the years that have passed you still have some mischief in you.” You tease, sipping your own coffee.

“Well, once a marauder, always a marauder. Isn’t that what we all used to say?” He retorted, and you genuinely smile.

A rare sighting since the passing of your brother, a sight only Harry has known.

You reach over and take his calloused hand in yours, brushing your thumb over a scar that lay there.

“I’m so sorry that I pushed you away, I never meant-“

“No, no, none of that. I won’t have you apologising for the way you chose to grieve. You lost your brother, and took on the responsibility of raising his child all in a matter of hours. I wasn’t what you needed then, and I understood that completely.”

That’s something about Remus that you had always loved. No matter how wronged he was, he had always found it within himself to understand. No matter how much somebody hurt him, his empathy would always shine through.

“What about what you needed? You lost everybody, and I shut you out.” You said, your confession leaves with shame and regret. He held your hand tighter.

“What I needed was to know that you and Harry were safe. And I knew that. I managed my grief in my own ways, but I managed nonetheless.”

Something else about Remus that you loved, was the way he held eye contact when he spoke. As if people would stop hearing him if he looked away. His eyes held onto yours now, sending secret messages of reassurance that he can’t speak with words.

He smiled, picking up his tea once more to take a sip. You wondered if he had had somebody to hold all this time, if somebody had been there to hold his hand as his world fell apart around him.

As you look at him, you remember the small school crush you used to have on him while at Hogwarts. The way you used to purposely sit next to him in the great hall so he’d have to lean down to talk to you, since he was so tall.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I had a bit of a crush on you in school.” You say, smiling down at you drink. He scoffs in amusement.

“Me? Why on earth would you have a crush on me?” He said, as if the idea was absolutely preposterous.

“Because you were always so kind. No matter how angry you were, you never spoke to me with anything other than kindness. And you’re tall, Godric knows that makes any girl fold,” you laugh. “And I thought you were pretty.”

“Pretty?” He looks scared to ask, as if the answer would somehow sting.

“Yeah, I’ve always thought your beauty was more soft than other boys,” you look into his eyes, seeing the same boy you loved in your school years. “The other girls would always tell me how gorgeous Sirius was, and he was, but I was always too busy staring at you to notice.”

Maybe it was the fact that you finally had a soul your own age to talk to. Or maybe it was the familiarity of talking to an old friend, someone you once spent every waking moment with. But you told him everything, about how lonely you’ve been, about how awful you feel about hating Harry’s similarities to James, about how much you love Harry and how it hurts to not be by his side at all times.

You tell him everything.

And he listens to every word.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Remus came over almost everyday until Harry was due to come home for Christmas.

He laughed with you, held you while you cried, and grieved with you. The way the two of you should have done all those years ago.

It felt as if the twelve years you were eleven years you were apart never happened.

“Auntie y/n! Over here!” Your nephew called, carrying his case for the holidays with him.

“Harry! Oh, I’ve missed you!” You say, placing your hands on his cheeks and kissing the crown of his head.

“It’s only been a couple of months.” He says, smiling at your antics,

“I know, I know, but you know I have no one to fret over while you’re away.”

Harry hugs you, the kind of hug he knows you need once you see him again.

Harry knows his Aunt struggles to be away from him, he also knows that she thinks he doesn’t know. But since a young age Harry has noticed the way he Aunt always hugs him tighter in the mornings, as if being away in her dreams was far too long, and how she always holds his hand while out and about, and how she sends weekly letter just to check he’s doing alright.

And he replies to every single one, because while others would see it as suffocating, Harry feels nothing to affection and gratitude towards his aunt, because he may be all she had, but she’s all he has in return. And if a letter a week soothes her mind, he has no quarrels in doing that.

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Harry was beyond happy that Remus would be spending Christmas with them. To him, Remus was an extension of his Father, one more person he could ask to tell him stories and memories of the man he never truly met.

You would always tell him anything he wanted to know, but deep down you knew that he knew it pained you. And so he doesn’t ask much of you, but you wish he did.

“Did he get into trouble at school? My dad?” He asked at the dinner table, casting looks toward Remus and you.

You let a laugh slip past your lips, and you hold your hand to your mouth.

“Harry, your father invented trouble.” Remus told him, smiling fondly at the memories.

“Oh, come one. You talk as if you weren’t a step behind him at all times! More often than not, if my brother was in trouble, so were we!” You laughed, for the first time remembering your brother with joy rather than grief.

“And you talk as if you weren’t the mastermind behind most of that mischief.” He says, casting you a look of teasing and humour.

You gasp in faux shock, clasping your chest and looking towards your nephew.

“Absolutely false, Harry. I was no trouble in school.”

Harry laughed then, “Professor McGonagall says otherwise.”

You stop and snap your attention to your Nephew as Remus laughs, no longer able to eat.

“What?” You say, a little panicked, mostly laughing.

Harry watches as his Aunt and who he now sees as an Uncle playfully bicker and argue about who was more trouble to who, and wonders when they’ll realise just how in love they are.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You’re clearing the table after Christmas dinner, stacking plates into piles and wrapping left overs in foil. Harry had retreated to his room to tend to his new quidditch set before the traditional Christmas movie night before bed, and y/n took it as a great opportunity to clear up.

A hand touched the small of her back, moving her slightly to the left as he squeezed by, taking the plates from her hands.

“You don’t need to do that, I’ve got it.” He says softly, sending her a small wink before carrying them over to the sink.

“Let me do something then, because you did most of the cooking and now you won’t let me clean.” You complained, not a single trace of discontent in your voice.

He turns to you, humour in his eyes but a frown on his lips.

“And what if I want to do all of this, then what?”

“Then you’ll just have to deal with me helping.” You say, stepping closer. You’re standing in front of him now, holding a cup full of cutlery in one hand and a plate of leftovers in the other. “Mr Lupin, I believe you’re blocking my way to the fridge.”

“Oh am I? Thats a shame, I guess I’ll have to take these off your hands then.” He says, taking the plate and cutlery and placing them on the side.

You’re about to argue when he turns back to you, much closer than before. “Let me help you.”

“You’ve done more than enough.” You say in a small voice.

“And what if I want to do more?” His hand reaches up and places a strand of your dark hair behind your ear, but his hand doesn’t fall, it stays put against your cheek.

You look up to see a branch of mistletoe growing from your ceiling, right between the two of you.

His eyes never leave your face, more accurately your lips as your breathing gets heavier.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice so small you barely hear it. All you can do is nod as his other hand is placed ever so gently on your waist, pulling you in.

He places his lips on yours, and it’s the most gentle kiss, but you feel the weight of a thousand words that have never been said behind it, pushing him closer.

To Remus’ surprise, it was you who intensified the kiss, placing a hand behind his head and pushing further into him. When you broke apart to breathe, he placed his forehead onto yours and closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve loved you for a while now, Miss Potter.”

“I’ve loved you always, Mr Lupin.”

What neither of the two seemed to notice, was their nephew sitting at the top of his stairs tucking his wand back into his pocket, closing the book about growing magical plants with spells.

[marauroon]

hello !!! can i request a right person, wrong time with siri? maybe they broke up because of the war... and the reason is because siri doesn't want to put the reader into danger and then they meet again, all grown up and they still have feelings for each other and Siri has to grovel to win reader back again? And it ends with a happy ending (please) (Siri was the one who broke the relationship and reader was really hurt) it's very long yet vauge 😅

A CALL TO ARMS — S.BLACK

sirius black was the love of your life, and you were his. but sometimes higher priorities—and deep-seeded anxiety—can get in the way. but the invisible string of fate always brings people back together.

cw — fem!reader, details of the first wizard of war, reader and sirius have a messy and complicated relationship, harsh arguments, character death mentions, happy ending

sirius black x reader || hurt/comfort || 6.2k || requests open!!

a/n — let’s just pretend sirius doesn’t get avada’d like three weeks after this fic ends

The war put a strain on everybody. Some people had to leave their families to join the fight, some had to hide away to protect themselves from the Death Eaters.

Some didn’t have a family, anyone to worry about them coming home at the end of the day.

They threw themselves into it the hardest.

Then there was you and Sirius, a pair of outcasts who found solitude in each other. A pair who paid no greater devotion than protecting the people that you cared about from the ravages of Voldemort’s uprising.

You were barely eighteen when you both joined the Order, fresh out of Hogwarts and straight into the line of fire after the group had been offered a spot in Voldemort’s army and refused, leaving every one of you with a target on your back.

By the time you were twenty it almost seemed fruitless, with James and Lily being sent into hiding to protect them and their son under Dumbledore’s direct orders under fear for their continued safety and a Fidelius Charm placed over them to keep them safe. Sirius denied being their secret keeper with the explanation of it being too obvious a choice. What a mistake that was.

Then order members started dying.

And it all began to fall apart.

The brass framed picture in the entrance of the Black family home offered Sirius no empathy as he escaped the bitterness that October was serving him, the laughing faces of his friends and self-proclaimed family only serving to make his already dwindling morale dampen further.

Twenty-two people in the picture. And how many remained? Fourteen. In the span of five months.

It was Dorcus and Marlene that really did him over, and he could barely so much as glance in the direction of their hopeful smiles without feeling like he was going to throw up.

The trudging of his feet up the wooden stairs was proof enough of his arrival for any present members of the Order to hear, too fatigued and all together bleak at the continued state he was living in to announce his presence verbally.

“Sirius, sweetheart, you’re home thank goodness,” Not even the warmth of your arms around him or the relief in your voice as you pulled his head into your shoulder could satiate him anymore.

You shouldn’t have to be relieved that he walked through the door.

You shouldn’t have to hug him like it’s your final goodbye every time he leaves.

Every time you leave.

You didn’t deserve that. And neither did he.

“Godric you’re freezing, come and sit down,” You pull Sirius into his childhood bedroom with all of the care of a feather floating on a pool of water, squeezing his hands in yours like you’re trying to transfer your own heat to him.

He follows you with no real resistance, though he doesn’t make any move by himself, and you have to push his shoulders down to get him to sit in front of the lit fireplace that would hopefully quell the chill echoing across his skin.

You help him remove his coat with a sigh, dark frown lines marking your features as you take a seat beside him and rest the side of your head against his shoulder, your hand gently tracing over his to capture his palm in your own. He doesn’t return the small squeeze of your fingers.

You can’t blame him for being so dismal, the situation was something that nobody could make it through without a gargantuan crack in their emotional shield, but seeing Sirius display his almost funereal sentiment so fervently without so much as a hint of a mask was devastating.

Displaying even the tiniest glimmer of hopefulness was what allowed the Order to survive for so long, and Sirius couldn’t even muster that.

“Harry said his first word today,” You try to keep the conversation positive, ignore the downfall of everything around you and keep focusing on the small wins. “Dada of course, apparently Lily was pretty miffed,” You punctuate your sentence with a small laugh, although it’s more pathetic than genuine and even you can tell you’re doing a horrible job of trying to uplift Sirius’ spirit.

“They sent over a picture, Remus has it if you’d like to see—”

“Just stop.” Sirius shakes his head sharply, pulling his hand from yours and standing with his back to you.

“Sirius—”

“I don’t know why you keep trying to pretend that everything’s okay, it’s not. Our friends are dying and you’re acting like its completely fine.” There’s more malice in his voice than he’s intending, and logically you know that he doesn’t really mean to get so angry at you. It wasn’t you that was the problem, it was the world in which you were living.

But logic can often times get overridden by other facets.

“I am trying to stop anyone else from dying.” Your words are more desperate than harsh, and they’re not laced in anger like Sirius’ are, but they carry just the same amount of conviction. “If we lose hope then we may as well just hand ourselves over…”

There’s a stuttered exhale as you trail off, and Sirius swears he hears your voice crack as you try to take his hand in yours again. “I can’t bear to see you like this…”

“You should leave the Order.”

You’re almost not sure you heard him.

“What?”

“You don’t belong here, you’re not fit for this,” He sounds almost resigned, and his shoulders drop just enough that you’re not sure he really believes what he’s saying. “You should leave before you get hurt.”

There’s a moment where all you can really do is let out a breath of astonishment, and then there’s an overwhelming need to defend yourself against Sirius’ accusation. “I am perfectly fit for this, Dumbledore agreed that—”

“Well I don’t agree with it!” He cuts you off harshly, turning around so that you can see the anguish that’s drenching his features. “People are dying, our friends are dying, and you are on the goddamn list of whose next.”

He takes your upper arms in his hand and shakes you like it’s going to make you see his point, practically shouting at you as he desperately tries to get you to see his point of view. “You are a brilliant witch, and you are in so much danger that it makes me want to rip my heart out so I don’t have to worry about you any more—”

His rant doesn’t stop once his hands halt, and they stay gripped uncomfortably tight around your biceps to the point where you’re sure it’ll bruise. “Dorcus died because she was brilliant, Marlene died because her father was a muggle, you are like the two of them wrapped up in a package practically serving yourself up to the Death Eaters every time you step out of this goddamn house and I cannot take it anymore.”

Sirius practically pants as his yelling comes to a halt, and he almost immediately regrets getting riled up as he sees the reflection of the fireplace in your glassed over eyes.

“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t live like this anymore.” His hands move from your arms to cup the sides of your face, and you flinch at the contact like you’re afraid he’s going to hurt you.

It breaks Sirius’ heart.

“The Order is falling apart love… I don’t want you to be here when it collapses,”

You pull his hands from your face with yours at his wrists, shaking your head as you blink through clouds of tears. “I’m not leaving the Order, Sirius. You really think I would abandon my friends like that? My family? You?”

“Then I’ll make one of the hard choices for you,” Sirius lets his hands fall to his sides on your prompting, taking a step back from you to hide them in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“What—” There’s nothing but absolute betrayal written across your face, and Sirius almost breaks down immediately. “Sirius—”

“If you want to stay here and watch shit hit the fan then be my guest, but I will not put myself through watching your downfall.” He doesn’t give you the courtesy of replying before opening and slamming the door behind him as he leaves, but you’re not sure you’d be able to articulate anything even if he did, your only response being the start of a sob that echoes off of the empty walls and back into your ears to amplify your own anguish.

You move your belongings out of his room that same evening, taking refuge under Remus’ open arms as you cried yourself into an uneasy slumber, so emotionally exhausted that you could barely formulate any sense of coherency.

Lily and James died two days later.

The news hit you like a truck when Dumbledore relayed it to you, and whilst most of the Order were left in a blanket of shock, Sirius took off in a rage before he could even finish his sentence.

It was enough for you to push the grief aside to not cost you any more.

“Sirius wait—” You weave your way through the others and past Dumbledore to rush after him, the first words either of you had spoken in the other’s direction since the argument. “Where on earth do you think you’re going the Death Eaters might still be there—”

“I hope they are.” Sirius’ tone drips with venom as he pulls his motorcycle helmet from the coat rack at the front door, and you just barely catch his wrist before he has the chance to leave.

“You’re going on a suicide mission—”

“They murdered my brother, I have nothing to lose.” He again leaves the conversation with a slammed door, and you don’t know whether the possibility of his death or the fact that he’d seemingly accepted it hurt you more.

He had nothing to lose.

It was the biggest insult he could’ve possibly left you with.

And it’s all he did leave you with.

For twelve years.

You grieved the loss of Sirius like you did James and Lily, like he too had entered into an early grave of which he would never return. Azkaban may as well have been.

You were angry at first, disgustingly loathing the thought of what those twelve poor muggles had to endure as their final moments. You were less empathetic towards Peter’s fate, although your grief for him was replaced with a deep-seeded betrayal that sunk into your muscles all the same.

Then it settled into an uneven weight in the bottom of your chest, something that you carried with you from that point onward.

You moved out of England soon after, with nothing but a silent vow to Remus that if Voldemort were to ever return, that you’d be there, a final standing against the allegiance that stole your life from you.

You couldn’t stay there anymore, every street of London reminded you of him, of them, of all the people that you lost and how the prime years of your young adulthood were unceremoniously ripped from you under the false belief that you could actually make a difference.

As weeks turned into months, and then into years, there were days that passed where you didn’t think of what happened, of how your previous life had fallen apart and left you as a shell of yourself, and eventually, you managed to pick up the pieces and live your life like it hadn’t happened.

Apart from a single shard of your heart that had lodged itself at 12 Grimmauld Place, underneath the black silk sheets you and Sirius once shared.

You were thirty three when a letter from R.J.Lupin was sent through the letterbox of your house, and it was like those twelve years of growth and acceptance disappeared in an instant.

—

‘I hope this letter finds you well, I know I promised to contact you only for something of the upmost urgence regarding the resurgence of you know who, but I believe this is appropriately important.

Wormtail is alive. He was the one who caused those muggles to die without reason. Which leaves no question of Padfoot’s innocence.

I don’t know if you have kept up with the wizarding news, but he escaped from Azkaban, and is in a safe and secure location known only by the Order.

I understand if this news is too much for you to digest, but he has asked me personally for your consideration in returning to the place where everything began.

Yours sincerely,

R.J.Lupin’

—

The aftermath of your reading was a mess of shallow breaths and an elevated heart rate.

Panic.

You hadn’t felt so horrible since the day that James and Lily had died, the day one of your closest friends betrayed you and the love of your life was taken away presumably to never be seen again.

And now he was just out there? You were just adjusting to living without him, and now he was being thrust back into your life by his own doing.

He threw you away right before your house of cards toppled, and now he was trying to worm his way back into your life?

It took you almost three weeks of staring at the sheet of parchment before you made a decision, and it ended with the letter going up in flames and you watching on with a sunken expression, no tears left to cry over the man who’d ruined you.

All of those months where you’d pondered, where you’d asked yourself over and over again what might’ve happened if you’d have just not spoken to Sirius that day, if you’d just let him rest like he’d obviously wanted rather than try pathetically to lift his mood.

If it might’ve meant he would regard you as something to live for and stop him from blindly running off to avenge James and Lily without a second thought.

All of it went straight down the drain. Because you could have him back if you wanted. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to go back and see him again because the minute his name invaded your mind all you could think about was that god awful argument and it’s aftermath.

And it ripped you apart every single time.

—

“She’s not coming Pads…” Remus’ hand on Sirius’ shoulder was almost apprehensive as he gave it a soft squeeze.

It was almost three months of having to watch Sirius treat the front door like it was his lifeline, his head turning at the smallest creak of the wood in the fruitless hope that when it opened you would be on the other side.

“I know…” Sirius lets out a small, pathetic laugh as he rakes his fingers through his hair, his facade of indifference threatening to break with every breath he took. “Can’t blame me for trying though right?” His voice betrays his devastation, tone wavering and quiet, cracking when he tries to push it to sound more convicting.

“Pads…”

“I’m fine,” Sirius shakes his head with a dismissive hand, clearing his throat and blinking away the starts of tears from the corners of his eyes. “I’m gonna go get some sleep, gonna need all I can get if we’re gonna fight these sons of bitches hey?” Sirius nudges Remus with his elbow as he plays a characature of his former self, although it’s poorly executed at best.

“Yeah…” Remus consciously suppresses a sympathetic sigh that tries to escape his mouth, pressing his lips together. “Goodnight Pads,”

“G’night Moony,”

—

There’s eighteen months of radio silence before another letter is slotted through your door, and you have half the mind to burn it on sight when the familiar red seal is left face up on your patio tiling, but the handwriting on the back wasn’t Remus’, and it was definitely not Sirius’ either.

The scrawl of your address was almost unmistakably Dumbledore’s, and you were left in an emotional state of uneven limbo as you debated why he of all people would be personally sending you a letter.

Logically, you already knew the reason, but your brain chose to ignore that logic as you ripped the envelope open, only for that denial to be thrown right back at your face once the seal of the Order inked itself into the folded parchment.

You didn’t even need to read the letter to know what was inside it.

Three words.

Invitatio ad arma.

A call to arms.

You barely remember packing your bags, leaving the sense of normalcy you’d built over the past fourteen years to throw yourself back into the line of fire and more devastatingly, right back to Sirius Black.

The train ride to England almost felt like a fever dream, your body left in a state of dissociation where you couldn’t discern whether your actions were real or just a part of some vivid nightmare that you couldn’t wake from no matter how much you tossed and turned.

And by the time you reached the front door of number 12 Grimmauld Place it felt like you were right back where you started, just barely twenty one thrust into a war that could leave you in your grave at any unfortunate minute.

It felt almost foreign to you as you entered, the hallways that once proved to be your substitute home reduced to unfamiliar sights covered in dust and peeling wallpaper. There was no brass lamps to warm the sight, no picture of your closest friends on the wall, not even the mirror that had been hung beside the door had survived, reduced to a half shattered mess that hadn’t been replaced under higher priorities.

“Oh—” The slightly surprised sentiment draws you away from your almost depressing nostalgia, drawn instead towards an almost perfect capture of teenage James Potter, down to the slanted circular glasses sat over his nose bridge.

It’s enough for you to genuinely consider for a second that you’d actually stepped back in time, right into your graduation year when you were all so young and full of hope.

But it couldn’t be James. As much as your heart desperately wished it was.

“You’re another member of the original Order of the Phoenix right?” The boy takes a few steps towards you, wonder still lingering in his eyes despite the film of knowledge that cloud them. Knowledge of just how unfortunately dark the world actually is. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m—”

”Harry…” Your interruption is barely more than a breath of air as you take in the sight of one of your closest friend’s child, a child that he never got to see grow into an almost perfect replica of himself. “You look just like your father…”

There’s a mix of shock and a small amount of sadness in his expression at your statement, and it’s enough for the glimpses of Lily to shine through in his demeanour. “Thank you,”

It’s enough for your eyes to well with tears, and you blink them away with a small clearing of your throat to regain your composure in front of the boy. He didn’t need to see you cry over the fact that he looked like one of your dead friends with the personality of another. That wasn’t fair.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Harry, properly,” You extend your hand almost hesitantly as you introduce yourself, and he takes it graciously in his own with a small sympathetic smile. Being proxy comforted by a teenager, how pathetic.

“It’s nice to meet you too, my parents have good friends,” You give the boy a small nod with a small, sad smile, and he mirrors it himself in turn.

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve any of this,” You let your hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly in a terrible attempt at consoling the sadness riddling his expression. “You’re just a boy Harry,”

“I know,” He gives a small sigh and a more confident smile, sympathy lingering in the creases of his cheeks in a perfectly Lily fashion. “I’m sorry for your loss too, I know they probably meant a great deal to you,”

“They still do, that’s why I’m here,”

“Thank you,” He sounds more confident in his thanks this time, more determined, and the remnants of his parents continue to show on full display as his focus returns to the reason you’d arrived here in the first place. “We’re about to sit down for dinner, join us?”

“I’ll be there shortly,” You give Harry a small nod and another small squeeze of his shoulder before excusing yourself up the stairs to leave your belongings.

—

“Good evening everyone,” Your voice is taught and awkwardly flat as you push open the door to the dining room, and you stand there with your hands wrung together behind your back as your eyes flicker over the room.

There are so many people that the table is almost entirely too crowded, and a mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces in your presence, although those who do recognise you leave their seats almost immediately to greet you properly.

“It’s good to see you,” Remus reaches you first, wrapping you in a secure hug that you happily return with your own.

“It’s good to see you too, Remus, it’s been too long,”

“Welcome back, we need all of the human shields we can get,” Mad Eye’s reuinionative statement is much less heart felt, but you give him a small laugh and a “Thank you,” nonetheless.

Then there was Sirius. Stood at his chair, not daring to walk into your little bubble under fear of whatever consequences that might come from it.

He looked almost as you remembered him, but he was leaner, more gaunt, his hair more unruly and his skin even more paper-white than the almost impossibly pale complexion of his teenage years.

He was still Sirius, but he was different, and it took less than half a second of eye contact for him to realise that you were different too.

“Welcome back,” His voice is hesitant, almost catching in his throat as his brain catches up to the fact that you’re stood in front of him, less than ten feet away after all of those years he’d spent desperately dreaming of what it would feel like to have you in his arms again.

Now you were here. And you were a stranger.

“Thank you,”

Dinner progresses pretty much how you expected, a mix of awkwardly introducing yourself to the Order’s new members and horrifically failing at avoiding eye contact with Sirius from across the table.

Then the topic of interest moves to the Order’s plans, and things seem to spin into a downwards spiral all too quickly.

“We don’t have enough members to reliably be able to pull this off,” The argument was entirely valid from a logical standpoint, a weakness that quite a few of the Order seemed to have choice opinions about.

“Yeah well we’re not getting any new members are we?” Sirius leans back in his chair exasperatedly. “With the way Fudge is portraying Dumbledore and the lack of official credibility, we’re on our own here, there’s no use in waiting around,”

“I’m inclined to agree, we all know you know who isn’t going to waste any time,

“It’s reckless,” You shake your head with furrowed eyebrows. “We not ready to face something like that head on.”

“We’re never going to be ready,” Sirius shakes his head with a sigh. “We have to take action before he has the chance to build himself back to where he was all those years ago.”

“Sirius is right, we need to do something,” Sirius gestures towards Harry’s response like it’s the final nail in the coffin against your reasoning.

“Harry, sweetheart, I appreciate your enthusiasm but you don’t know the extent of what we’re dealing with,” Your voice is as gentle as it is assertive, not wanting to put him down too much but also wanting to make sure he understood the true extent of what was going on.

“He killed my friend in front of me—”

“And he’s killed dozens of ours,” You shake your head softly but firmly. “Jumping in without a plan is only going to make things worse, trust me.”

He seems more than a little shot down, but he gives you a small nod of understanding nonetheless as he backs down from his standing.

Sirius doesn’t pay you the same mind.

“So you’re suggesting we just wait in hiding for what, forever? We need to act,”

“The last time you ‘acted’, Sirius, you spent twelve years in Azkaban for it.” Your rebuttal holds none of the softness that was present when you were talking to Harry, and you can see it eroding the calcified shield behind Sirius’s eyes.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Sirius presses his teeth together to keep himself from raising his voice, his back straightening alongside his defensiveness. “At least I’m trying to do something, if you don’t want to contribute maybe you shouldn’t be a part of the Order at all,”

“I will not have this argument with you again Sirius!” His chastation seems to finally get under your skin as you rise yourself from your chair with your hands on the dining table, ignorantly ignoring the uncomfortable gazes of everyone else present as you’re forced back into that evening fourteen years go all over again.

“Okay, I think it’s time we called it a night,” Remus, seemingly the only normally functioning person at the table, rises from his chair slowly, taking your shoulders in his hands to guide you away from the group and calm you down.

“Yes right you are Remus,” Molly stands up with a nod that’s almost too enthusiastic clasping her hands together. “Off to bed, all of you,”

You can practically hear the lingering exasperation in Remus’ breathing as he leads you up the stairs and into the room he was staying in, and the second he shut the door behind you you knew what you were in for.

“You need to speak to him.”

“I know,”

“Properly.”

“I know,”

You’re sure the sigh you let out echoes across the house’s first floor, and it’s enough for Remus’ eyes to shift into displaying a concerning amount of sympathy in your direction.

“He misses you, you know,” Remus takes a seat on the edge of his bed with a soft sigh. “He said the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that got him through Azkaban,”

“Yeah well he wouldn’t’ve gone there in the first place if he hadn’t’ve been such a hot-headed twat,” You wouldn’t lie that Remus’ statement didn’t hit you a little where it hurt, but the lingering anger towards Sirius’ situation was clearly still more forefront in your mind.

“It’s a carried trait in all of us ’m‘fraid,” Remus tilts his head knowingly, and you have half the mind to roll your eyes at the clear implication of what he’s saying.

But he isn’t wrong, not really.

“You know where to find him,”

There’s a small moment of silence, then a sigh. “Do I have to?”

“The longer you wait the worse it’ll be,”

Sometimes you hate how logical Remus can be.

With another sigh and a loll of your head, you reluctantly stuff your hands in your pockets and turn towards the bedroom door, muttering a soft—and only half genuine—“thanks,” in his direction as you leave.

The wooden door that barricaded you from the former love of your life felt more like steel than anything else. Tall, dark, and intimidating to the point where you couldn’t even consciously lift your hand to knock against it under the blood rushing behind your ears from how fast your heart was pounding in your ribcage.

It really shouldn’t be so scary, you’d spent weeks, months in that room when you’d originally joined the Order, yet now it felt entirely foreign to you.

Maybe it was the fact that the wood was slowly rotting away with how unkept it was. Maybe it was the knowledge of what—who—was on the other side of it. Or maybe, your mind was just so completely and utterly fucked that the idea of confronting the consequences of your own actions was more nerve-wracking than the idea of standing face to face in a death match with Voldemort himself.

You stand there staring dumbly at the door for almost two minutes, and when it opens your eyes widen like it’s a new form of magic that you’d never encountered.

Sirius halts halfway out the door, arm stretched straight with the doorknob still in hand as his face seems to go through an insurmountable number of emotions in the half-second it takes for him to realise you’re there.

You don’t say anything as you make eye-contact, head immediately ducking downward and stepping aside so that he can leave without you blocking his path, but he just stays there, staring at you like you had been the door, and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the second.

You clear your throat with a feigned cough, pursing your lips together with a muttered “excuse me,” as you turn around to leave, but Sirius catches your wrist in his hand before you even manage to take the first step.

“Wait—” He loosens his grasp almost immediately after he feels a resistance, but his eyes convey just how determined he was to keep you where you were. “Let’s talk, please?”

There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, and you almost crumble on that alone, but you manage to maintain your composure with a small shake of your head and a gentle pull of your wrist from his hand. “I don’t think it’s worth it Sirius, not anymore,”

“Don’t say that, we can fix this,” Sirius mirrors your head shake with his own. “You just need to talk to me,”

“I tried talking to you Sirius, and look where it got us,” You gesture between the two of you with exasperation in your tone.

There’s a small pause where the two of you share and almost identical mask of composure over your agony.

“It just wasn’t meant to be, that’s it,”

“That’s not true,” Sirius shakes his head again, more confidently this time, and his inky black curls bounce against his shoulders like they’re trying to torment you with the memories of your fingers raking through them. “We can fix this, us, we just have to try,”

“I don’t want to argue with you anymore,” You lower your gaze away from his so you don’t have to see the heartbreak in his irises. “Especially not over this…”

“Then don’t, let’s work this out properly, like adults,” He reaches out his hand cautiously towards yours, and you flinch away as your fingers make contact. “Please,”

“Sirius…”

“I’m sorry.” Sirius lets out a heavy, pathetic breath as he retreats his hand to run it through his hair. “I am so sorry. I made the biggest mistake of my life and it cost me the person that I love more than life and I have suffered the consequences of it every day for the last fourteen years.”

Sirius lets his hands fall to his side with a start, voice beginning to tremble under the strain of his emotions as he desperately tries to voice everything that he’d bottled up over the last decade and a half before you leave him to rot in his own depression again. “I spent every hour in Azkaban imagining what it would be like to see you again, to hear your voice, to hold you and tell you that you’re the one thing in this goddamn hell that we live in that actually makes anything worth fighting for,”

The breaths between his words are shallow and weak, and your expression starts to blur as his eyes glass over with the beginnings of tears. “I love you so much, and I’m so— sorry that you had to live through everything I forced on you and I just—“ He takes a sharp, stuttering breath in. “—I need you to know that I will spend the rest of my life devoted to you, to correcting what I’ve done even if you don’t so much as spare me a glance,”

He’s not sure when the tears started running over his eyelids, but he can feel them fall in drops to dapple the ivory skin of his fingers. “And if I die tomorrow, I’ll take whatever punishment hell has to give me so that you can rest easy,”

The end of his rant is echoed by laboured breathing and a horrific attempt at muffling a sob that leaves his throat, bouncing off the walls of the hallway to settle into your muscles as you stand stationary in an astonished silence.

You’re not sure what to say. You’re not sure there’s anything you can say. How on earth are you supposed to respond to something like that? Something so desperate and raw and real?

Sirius Black, after fourteen years of radio silence, still loved you like you’d never parted.

“Sirius…”

And you’d be absolutely damned if you weren’t the same.

“I forgive you…”

It’s like a tsunami of relief ravages Sirius’ body at your words, barely a whisper escaping your mouth but invading his ear canals like a nuclear explosion, and it’s enough for that sliver of composure remaining to erode under the waves of his tears until he’s sobbing into his hands, hunched over with trembling shoulders as he lets everything go all at once.

“I’m so sorry—“

His final apology is doused in so much heartbreak it might as well rip your heart right out of your chest, and your at his side almost immediately, gently pulling his hand from his face to pull his head into your shoulder with a soft shush of consolation.

He clings to you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to, tears damping the shoulder of your shirt and his arms wrapped so tightly around your torso you’re not sure he intends to ever let go. You’re not sure you’d complain if he didn’t.

That familiar musky scent of cigarettes and faux leather hits your nose once he’s close enough, and that’s where you break too, silent tears streaming down your face as you bury your nose in his hair.

You’re eternally grateful that everyone on this floor of the house is already asleep, either that or just polite enough not to interrupt the two of you out in the hallway, because the state the both of you were in was definitely not meant to be seen by other people.

A desolate, broken side to the two of you only trusted in the company of the other.

“Stay with me tonight, please…” His plea is barely more than a mutter against your shoulder, and you’re sure he wouldn’t even have to ask to know what your answer would be.

And so you find yourself back where you started, tangled up underneath the silky black sheets of Sirius’ bed in the warmth of his embrace, that tiny shard of your heart finally recovered and back in it’s rightful place.

Right where you belong.

[odinsblog]

I know there’s a lot more serious things happening than worrying about what some spoiled culture vulture thinks, but the Jenners + Kardashians stay hopping on the, “I support the latest popular thing” bandwagon, without having any understanding or taking any nuance into account.

In sharp contrast, here is the thoughtful post Gigi Hadid released:

"My thoughts are with all those affected by this unjustifiable tragedy, and every day that innocent lives are taken by this conflict too many of which are children. I have deep empathy and heartbreak for the Palestinian struggle and life under occupation, it's a responsibility I hold daily. I also feel a responsibility to my Jewish friends to make it clear, as I have before:

While I have hopes and dreams for Palestinians, none of them include the harm of a Jewish person.

The terrorizing of innocent people is not in alignment with & does not do any good for the 'Free Palestine' movement. The idea that it does has fueled a painful, decades-long cycle of back&forth retaliation (which no innocent civilian, Palestinian or Israeli, deserves to be a casualty of), and helps perpetuate the false idea that being Pro-Palestine = antisemitic.

If you are hurting, as I share my condolences today with my loved ones, both Palestinian and Jewish, I'm sending you my love & strength — whoever and wherever you are. There are a lot of complex, personal, and valid feelings, but every human deserves basic rights, treatment, and security; no matter their nationality, religion, ethnicity, or where they were born.

I know my words will never be enough or heal the deep wounds of so many, but I pray for the safety of innocent lives, always."

—Gigi Hadid

[stacy-fakename]

I’m sorry, but my type-a ass cannot be against the Rat Grinders. They’re essentially the kids that couldn’t get the special treatment from teachers and get by on stumbling through tests and happening to get an A without studying. The Rat Grinders feel less like people who cheated the system, and more like the kids who aren’t naturally gifted or lucky, and have to spends hours on end studying, doing extra homework and extra credit, losing their social lives and free time to catch up with the kids who can just breeze through it. Fig never went to a single class or did any homework but gets away with it because the coach, lunch lad, and vice principal are her dads, Kristin and Riz did literally the worst thing their respective class can do, Gorgug actively works to avoid using the main feature of his class whenever possible, Adaine became the Oracle through seemingly happenstance, and Fabian’s rich family bought his way into the extra curricular he’s now the captain of, and all of them skipped half of freshman year! Obviously we, the audience, know that they worked their asses off to get through school each year and to get where the are today. We know they earned every little good thing they have! Fig has worked so hard to become the rockstar she is! Kristin literally brought back a god! Riz in a supergenius detective! Gorgug is an incredible barbarian and artificer! Adaine works so hard to help all of her friends survive a toxic system! Fabian slaved away to earn his achievements himself instead of letting his father’s legacy be his identity! But think of it from an outside perspective, without all the knowledge that only the audience has! These random kids stumbled into three adventures that let them skip grinding for XP, got to miss half a year with no consequence, get special privileges and quests because they are related to or friends with the faculty, never do their assignments or go to class, became popular because of their privileges, and now randomly start spouting micro aggressions towards halflings? If I was one of the Rat Grinders, I’d be pissed off too! I’ve been both the gifted kid, seemingly effortlessly breezing through classes and befriending the entire faculty while secretly going through terrible struggle and stress, and the kid desperately trying to game my way through a system built to harm me while being furious at those who seem to thrive in it, and I can’t help but feel empathy for both. I don’t think the Rat Grinders are evil, cheating monsters who plan to destroy the Bad Kids out of spite. I think they’re just kids in a harmful toxic school system that have a lot of righteous anger at their lot in life, that has sadly been misdirected. Idk if this ramble made sense, sorry for the wall of text!

Edit:Introducing Ivy Embra, the first Rat Grinder to actually be antagonistic to anyone in any way! Also introducing Oisin Hakivar, a super nice guy who’s willing to take advantage of his generational wealth in order to help a fellow student! So the first Rat Grinder to actively be nice to someone too! He likely did something with the ice mephits, but he still seemed genuinely sympathetic and helpful to Adaine!

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟐𝟒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞

⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔

⤥ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟗.𝟕𝐤

⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝟑𝐱, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐦𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡), 𝐜𝐡𝟎𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞

⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.

You can’t actually remember the last time an outing with your friends didn’t end with a visit to your apartment. No matter where or when, they somehow always find their way back to your home and since you and Riki had decided to move into the same apartment complex as your boys, your flat has become the ultimate hangout spot.

Usually Sunghoon’s the first one to say his farewells and leave, simply because he doesn’t want to spend too much time with you, but also because he’d rather have his best friends have a good time than enjoy it with them.

However, this night is different.

For some weird reason, a lot of things didn’t go the way they usually have and as his eyes almost anxiously roam the interior of your hallway, Sunghoon feels this weird sense of comfort hit his nerves.

He’s only been to your new apartment once ever since you moved in almost six months ago, and the reason for that was your brother’s constant nagging about his best friend and mentor needing to meet their new cats.

All those weeks ago, Sunghoon had refused to stay longer than an hour, despite his knowledge of the fact that you wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. Being in your home didn’t feel right. Not without you walking around in it.

Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh in hopes of getting rid of some of the tension in his muscles because he’s currently dealing with the consequences of his own decisions, yet the urge to turn around and just walk back to his own apartment becomes overwhelming.

Riki knows that no matter how much they hate each other, neither you or your archenemy would ever deny him any request, so when the young hockey prodigy had asked whether you and your best friend could join in on the night out, Sunghoon simply didn’t know how to say no.

So that’s how the young man found himself at a random barbecue restaurant, paying for not only his friends but your drinks as well, wondering if you finally feel better or not all while munching on something his friends had put on his plate.

Throughout the whole dinner, Sunghoon remained silent. There was just nothing he deemed important enough to bring up, so he sat back and listened to the rest of you.

With every single one of your giggles and smiles, the sight of your new set of nails and lashes, this heaviness on his chest had started to subdue and before he could even realise it, Sunghoon caught himself listening to one of your girls’ night stories and being genuinely invested.

Asking if you ended up beating that random girl up had started burning on the tip of his tongue but after he had unintentionally chuckled at a few of your jokes, Sunghoon forced himself to keep it down.

He still hates you. However, he’s not some weird empathy lacking monster the way you love to portray him as and even if a whole week had passed since the last time you had been together, Hoon just couldn’t get over the sight of your tears and sound of your sobs.

He hates how much he’s been thinking about your emotional wellbeing. Whatever’s going on between the two of you was supposed to be physical, a way to get rid of his tension and frustration, something to take his mind off of things; an easy way out of his daily routine, nothing else.

So why did it make him so..uncomfortable to see your tears and listen to your painful sobs? Why was he so stressed when you had refused to let him turn you onto your back and why did he feel genuinely upset when you told him to fuck off after he had gone out of his way to ask if you’re okay?

Sunghoon has yet to find the answer to all of these questions and after almost a week of forcing himself to forget about your existence, he’s now stuck in a situation he could have easily prevented if he only knew how to say no.

To his luck, you had made sure none of the boys stayed too long since you still had to pack for your flight the next day, making him feel relieved as he takes off his leather jacket, casually revealing his toned arms and letting out another soft sigh when he notices something tiny and dark in the corner of his eye.

As soon his gaze falls to the floor and meets the sight of one of your newly adopted little kittens, Sunghoon forgets about the chaos in his head for a few minutes and before he can scan his surroundings to make sure you’re not around, he scrounges down and holds his hand out with a big smile on his plump lips.

It takes you a full blown moment to process the current scenario unfolding right in front of you, as Kawa, the shier and more hesitant one of your twins casually nuzzles his tiny face against Sunghoon’s palm after giving it the shortest sniff you’ve ever seen him do.

For some reason you can’t help but be surprised because this is only the second time the kitten has been around the faux blonde, yet doesn’t seem to feel anywhere as scared or uncomfortable as he normally does around strangers.

You attentively watch Sunghoon petting Kawa, his little purrs echoing in your empty hallways as the other ones have made their way into the living room already, leaving the two of you alone.

And as your eyes slowly roam his veiny hands before they find their way to his strong arms, you actually catch yourself craving the feeling of his skin underneath your fingertips.

You hate admitting how much you want him to make you feel good again, despite the fact he hasn’t actually hit you up again since your mid-fuck mental breakdown and the fact you’re not even denying your hunger has definitely taken its toll on your ego.

You’ve tried your very best to ignore how much your lack of physical intimacy with Sunghoon these past few days, especially since you’re quite sure he won’t bother to hit you up ever again after witnessing such secondhand embarrassment.

No matter how much you despise him as a person, you can’t and won’t deny just how good of a lover he actually is. Sunghoon just knows exactly what to do and how to touch you to make you feel good and after getting so used to his touch, you’re definitely not too proud to admit how much you’ll think about how good he’s made you feel. None of your previous intimacy partners or boyfriends had ever managed to make you cum as effortlessly and easily as Park Sunghoon, of all people.

But at the end of the day you’ve accepted your fate and know there’s no point in grieving something you were never destined to have, maybe that’s why it felt as good as it did.

“Can I pick him up?”

The sudden sound of Sunghoon’s voice brutally pulls you back into reality and with jolts of embarrassment rushing through your system, you force yourself to look up at him and actually meet his gaze.

“Sure”, is the only thing you say before you finally make your way into the living room and get comfortable on the floor right in between your brother and your best friend.

It doesn’t take Sunghoon longer than a minute to follow you, his sudden presence in combination with your little kitten on his arm pulling the whole group’s attention on himself, allowing you to sneak a few more quick glances.

There’s just something about Park Sunghoon that makes your whole body heat up in the worst, yet most satisfying way possible. His strong, toned arms on full display because of his sleeveless shirt, a choice you’d usually question especially considering the current season and weather situation, but as someone who basically grew up on the ice rink, you’re not surprised about his immunity to the cold.

With a soft sigh your eyes slowly fall to his plump lips, his little fangs peeking out as soon as one of the boys make him laugh and before you can even realise it, Tsuki rams her elbow into your side and stares at you in disbelief.

“Did you just smile because he started laughing?”

Her words leave you completely speechless because yes, you actually did what she has just accused you of.

“It’s official”, you whisper and turn your whole body away from the young coach, “I’m losing my mind.”

“Over some dick? It can’t be that good, my love, be honest with me”, your best friend’s words are honest and true, yet also quite slurred as the three bottles of soju have finally spread in her system and therefore turning her into unhinged and very loud company.

To your luck all of the boys are too mesmerized by the kittens and too drunk to pay any attention to your little meltdown, except for Sunghoon.

He can’t explain it, yet whenever you’re staring at him, it’s like he can feel it in the pit of his stomach and as he watches the way you bury your face in your best friend’s neck as you both burst into a row of high pitched giggles, a mixture of annoyance and anger starts boiling in his blood when he realises how he actually doesn’t mind seeing you so happy and careless.

Without wasting any more time and energ on these new emotions, Sunghoon simply shifts his attention back to the boys and to his luck, he manages to engage in their random conversations rather quickly.

The following two hours are filled with little games and lots of laughter, silly jokes and rather interesting discussions, mostly between the triplets who have slowly started becoming more and more irritated as the lack of sleep caught up on them.

By the time you come back with your third glass of wine of the night, you’ve successfully put the younger boys to bed, making sure they’re firmly tucked in and even giving them all a forehead kiss knowing you probably won’t get the chance again for the next two weeks.

As you get comfortable next to Jaeyun, you’re sat right across from your favorite person (not) and the urge to stare at him has become absolutely unbearable. This time however, you’re adamant about blaming it on the little alcohol in your system. The way you’ve been doing every single time you’ve found yourself in a situation like this with him, of all people.

“Let’s play truth or dare”, Jongseong suddenly shout-whispers, his enthusiasm not matched as you all collectively decide to just shoot him a side glance and ignore his suggestion.

“You guys are so fucking lame”, he pouts and throws himself back on the couch before he jumps on his feet in the same second and goes to look for a bottle to spin.

For some reason none of you actually bother to protest when your best friend comes back with the very much needed item, casually placing it in the middle of your little coffee table and quickly spinning it.

“This is so boring, Jong”, Heeseung complains and pulls his girlfriend closer against his body, loving the new found freedom of being so openly affectionate agter having to be subtle about it for so long.

“Shut the fuck up”, Jaeyun suddenly says and sits up, his srm still firmly thrown over your shoulders as he pulls you with him and with a quick roll of your eyes you accept your fate yet again.

Despite your initial lack of enthusiasm, you all end up having much more fun that you could have expected as the boys casually force each other to admit some of their secrets.

To your luck, the bottle has yet to point in your dorection and as your friends become less hinged with their requests and questions, you can’t help but get a little anxious at the thought of the possible things they could request or ask about.

You’ve definitely noticed the burning gaze in your side this past hour but for your own sanity’s sake you’ve decided to just ignore him. There’s no point in getting worked up about something that won't happen and doesn’t matter anyway.

You don’t actually want Sunghoon, per se, you want to cum without having to do anything for it and since he’s been the only guy to achieve just that, you basically want that ability of his, not him as a person. And you definitely, absolutely do not want him to kiss you again because his lips and the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth have never once left your mind for the past week.

“Y/N, babe”, Jong says and nudges your thigh with his knuckles, pulling you out of your forbidden daydream and as soon as your gaze meets his, he nods towards the bottle to let you know it’s actually your turn now.

“Truth or dare, pretty girl?” Heeseung chuckles and takes a sip from his bear, his hand firmly placed on your best friend’s thigh as he waits for your answer and with a soft sigh you mumble a quick ‘dare’, not ready to answer any intimate questions in the presence of your archenemy.

“Oh? We’re starting off strong, hm?” Jaeyun smirks, all three boys looking at each other with shit eating grins on their faces and that’s the exact moment you realise you fucked ul.

They’re going to make you do something awful and knowing them, they will get what they want, no matter what.

“I want you to sit on Sunghoon’s lap until the bottle points at you again”, Heeseung then says and starts laughing as soon as he watches both your and Sunghoon’s jaw hit the floor

“No fucking way”, the faux blonde is quick to protest, his hands balled into fist as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and with your eyebrows arched in shock you simply shake your head.

“You have no speech right, Sir”, Jong spits back at his best friend, all eyes remaining on you and before you can stop yourself, you turn to look at Sunghoon, too overwhelmed by a request so bold.

“What if I don’t want to do it? Because I’d rather shit in my hands and start clapping for an hour, if I’m being honest”, you say and chug down the remaining wine in your glass, jolts of excitement and heat rushing through your veins and as soon as you give them their names, you furrow your brow in utter confusion. Why the fuck are you excited about the possibility of sitting in his lap?

“If you don’t want to do it you can also choose to tell us the reason behind your fall out ten years ago”, Jaeyun says and looks at you with raised eyebrows, all three boys knowing you’d never drop a bomb that big at such a random moment and before you can even overthink anything, you simply get on your feet and make your way to Sunghoon, who has yet to understand what the fuck is happening.

“You can’t be fucking serious”, he spits and looks up at you with flushed cheeks and bir swollen lips, a sight you’ve grown so used to because of the uncountable amount of hours he’s spent with his face buried between your legs.

“Stop being a whiny bitch and lean back”, you hiss and push him to lean against the back of your couch before you get yourself comfortable on his lap, purposely turning your back on him and skillfully ignoring the heat pooling in the deepest pits of your stomach.

“She actually fucking did it”, Jongseong says in utter shock, “you really don’t want us to know.”

“Go get fucked, Jay”, you say and raise your middle finger in the direction of the other two boys who have yet to stop staring at the weird sight of you so close to the one man you’ve avoided to even look at for years.

“I can’t lie, y’all actually are very visually pleasing together”, Heeseung comments and shoots you a cheeky smile, only for his girlfriend to slap his arm with a pout on her pretty lips.

“Stop teasing them, you’re being mean”, Tsuki scolds not only Seung but also the other two boys and before anyone can say anything else, you move your body forward to reach for the bottle.

It’s then that you take notice of the slight bulge underneath you and with your eyes slightly widened you quickly pull your bottom lip between your teeth and desperately try to hold back a whimper from escaping your throat.

The urge to just grind against him slowly becoming unbearable but luckily the boys don’t give you the opportunity to lose yourself in those urges ss they start cheering when the tip of the bottle points to Jongseong for the nth time within the past hour.

For the next few minutes, Sunghoon remains completely silent. Overwhelmed by feeling of your body so close against his and the warmth of your cunt so unbearably close to where he’s been needing you the most and if it wasn’t for his well established self control, he would have bent you over the coffee table and fucked your brains out twice already.

It doesn’t matter how much he denies it, because at the end of the day his own words have finally bitten him in the ass as he realizes that his body will forever betray him.

Because here he is in a room with his best friends, forcing himself to ignore his raging boner and the hypnotizing scent of your perfume in his nose.

Your constant squirming and accidental touches against his thighs just seem to make everything worse and when you obviously refuse to stop moving for no reason, Sunghoon subconsciously reaches for your thighs and makes sure you know not to fuck with him.

He’s unhinged and he doesn’t actually give enough fucks to keep what’s been going on between the two of you a secret and you know it: he will fuck you in front of your friends if you don’t stop playing with his patience.

“Fucking finally”, you suddenly say and jump off of his lap, the unexpected lack of skinship eliciting a deep grunt from his throat but to Hoon’s luck his best friends are already too wasted to notice.

“What a shame, you two looked so cute”, Jaeyun faux pouts and blows you both a kiss when you turn into a choir to tell him to shut the fuck up.

“Park Sunghoon”, Jay cooes and reaches for his best friend's chin, “truth or dare?”

Before he can actually process what’s currently going on, Hoon shoots back with a quick ‘truth’ followed by the feeling of instant regret.

“Tell us the real reason why you beat up Jaemin”, Jay says and chuckles, no realising the weight his question comes with and for a moment you find yourself staring at your best friend with furrowed brow and confusion written all over your face.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Jongseong?” Sunghoon presses through gritted teeth, his body so tense you can see every single one of his veins popping up underneath his fair skin.

His reaction just irritates you even more because there’s absolutely no way this can be true.

Why the fuck would Sunghoon, of all people, beat up your ex boyfriend?

You knew it had to be one of your boys and to your defense, you never gave it another thought, simply because you didn’t want to torture yourself.

“Oh fuck”, Jay suddenly says when he finally realizes what he’s just said, his eyes quickly meeting yours but after years of knowing each other, you’ve become a pro at reading your friends’ facial expression and the longer your gaze jumps from one boy to the other, the more you feel approved in your gut feeling.

Jay wasn’t lying or joking.

Sunghoon really did beat up Jaemin. With a bat. Not only did he beat him up, he actually broke several of his ribs and his wrist, all while making sure you received an actual apology and scaring the young analyst enough for him to not file a report against him.

“What the fuck is he talking about?”

This time, you don’t even bother looking for the answers in your best friends’ faces as your eyes meet the gaze of your archenemy.

A mixture of anger and annoyance gleaming in the brown of Sunghoon’s eyes, yet again giving you an answer without using any words.

“Stop looking at me like that, you stupid fuck”, you suddenly spit and get up from your spot on the floor, a weird mixture of anger and satisfaction filling your chest at the thought of finally knowing who got your revenge, but forcing yourself to focus on the actual person rather than his actions.

“Explain yourself. Right fucking now.”

“Get the fuck out of my face”, Sunghoon grunts and imitates your reaction, easily hovering over you and you hate how good he looks with his messy fringe falling into his flushed face.

Is he flustered?

“I don’t owe you shit”, he proceeds and attempts to move away from you and towards the door, but you’re definitely not going to let him run away the way he loves to when it comes to taking responsibility for his actions.

It just doesn’t make sense as to why he, of all people, would go out of his way to do something..for you?

“Don’t you dare to fuck off right now”, you say and look up at him with glossy eyes, furrowed brows and your pretty lips pressed into a thin line, the sight so tempting, Sunghoon has to physically hold himself back from actually kissing you again.

He hates you. He doesn’t give a fuck about you or the things you want. All he wants is to finally bury his face in your cunt again, that’s it.

Sunghoon doesn’t owe you or in fact, nobody an explanation and he won't give in just because of his best friend’s big mouth.

At this point Hoon’s skillyfully ignoring the fact that he actually doesn't know why he did what he did but he’s aware that there might be more behind his casual urge to put people into their place. But there’s no way he’s going to give you the satisfaction of hearing him say those thoughts out loud.

“Back the fuck off, Snowflake”, Sunghoon says firmly and that’s when you realise just how close you are to him, the tension thick and heavy in the silence lingering in your living room.

You can feel the boys’ and tsuki’s gazes boring into your side, but for the first time in over a decade, you’re determined to keep your attention on nobody but Park Sunghoon.

“Just once”, you suddenly say, reminding him of the words he had said to you on Jaeyun’s birthday, unsure whether or not he’ll actually be decent enough to give you the answers you’re demanding, “be fucking honest with me for once. Did you beat up Jaemin?”

When the roles were reversed, Sunghoon had wondered how easy it was for him to convince you to speak up but as his eyes nervously roam your soft features, he physically can’t stop himself from nodding in response to your question; pushing himself into your position from a few weeks ago.

“What the fuck?”

Your voice is laced in genuine confusion but the gentle gleam of satisfaction and excitement in your eyes claim the opposite.

When Sunghoon had listened in on his friends’ conversation about your ex boyfriend and the things he’s apparently texted you, he somehow felt the urge to just give him a piece of his mind and before he could actually overthink it again, he found himself outside of Jaemin’s work building, patiently waiting for the young analyst to make his way home.

To his luck, he never actually recognized him, but Hoon had to make sure that gutless fucker kept his name out of this whole shitshow and focus on the task on hand. He never meant to go as hard as he did but the more he thought about the things your ex-boyfriend had said to you, the angrier he became and after getting too invested, Sunghoon had decided to just take a step back because there’s absolutely no reason for him to be so mad and angry at Jaemin.

He doesn’t give a fuck about you, never has with any of your previous wannabe lovers and never will, but this time he let his instincts take over rather than his rational thinking. Sunghoon isn’t quite sure as to why exactly he did it but he knows for sure it wasn’t because of any emotional reaction.

“I did it because I wanted to, don’t read anything into this”, Hoon suddenly says and rolls his eyes at you, yet adamantly refuses to look into your eyes, “it’s been weeks now, so please don’t make a big deal about it.”

“A big deal – are you fucking mental? You beat up my boyfriend, broke his wrist and his ribs!”

Maybe it’s the sexual frustration or lack of satisfaction, but for some reason you physically can’t stop yourself from pushing Sunghoon’s buttons. Usually you don’t think too much about the things he says, just snap back and turn him off whenever he starts annoying you, but this time is different.

You want him to react to your words.

“He’s your ex-boyfriend, you stupid fuck and big news! I even used a hockey bat”, he suddenly spits back at you, the tip of his ears tinted in a deep shade of red as the anger you had aimed at starts spreading in his system.

There’s just something about Park Sunghoon and his anger which never fails to turn your panties into a soaked mess.

Tomorrow morning you’re definitely going to hate yourself for all these thoughts but right now the only thing you genuinely care about is how good Sunghoon looks with his brows furrowed and his plump

lips pressed into a thin line.

“Okay, guys, how about we talk about this when we’re all sober to make sure nothing happens”, Jaeyun suddenly says and it’s then that you realise just how long the two of you have just been staring at each other.

With a scoff you turn away, annoyed because of your body’s reaction, annoyed at the fact your friends knew about Sunghoon’s actions and confused because regardless of it all, you physically can’t get yourself to stop thinking about fucking him. The worst part about it being how your brain constantly creates the mental image of him underneath you, a position the two of you have vehemently refused to try simply because you’re not ready to give him the satisfaction it comes with.

You still remember how Hoon had asked you to ride him multiple times, only for you to refuse him every single time. There’s just something so intimate about having someone underneath you and from quite a few conversations with your best friends you know this might be a rather unique opinion, you’ve always waited until you actually felt wanted and desired by your partners until you had decided to give them the experience of giving their control to you.

After so many years and several sexual encounters, you’ve now found yourself in the dilemma of whether or not to just pull him to the side and tell him to meet you at his car later tonight or just drop the whole thing and not waste another minute thinking about it.

“I’m out”, Sunghoon suddenly hisses and shoots you a quick glance of distaste and annoyance, “see you guys around.”

“Yeah, fuck off, you coward”, you reply almost instinctively, receiving nothing but a middle finger in response and with your bottom lip firmly pulled between your teeth, you just turn around and basically run to the balcony in hopes of drowning your arousal in nicotine to finally get rid of it.

Once you’ve finally said your last farewells to the boys, Tsuki giving you a tight hug and a huge kiss on your forehead on her way out, you find yourself recklessly tossing and turning around in your bed.

Thoughts and mental images of Sunghoon, his moans, his words and his voice, his touches and the way he never fails to push you to the edge with just a few flicks of his tongue have basically engraved themselves into your brain and after finding out about his relation to the whole shitshow with your abusive ex boyfriend, you can’t help but feel the actual to show him your gratitude.

Never in a million years could you have prepared yourself for thoughts like this. You don’t even like the guy, so why the fuck would you ever bother making sure he knows you’re grateful for what he’s done. Especially when the reason for his decisions and actions probably has nothing but selfish intentions.

Every now and then you find yourself on his chat, contemplating whether or not to just text him but with all three boys soundly asleep down the hallway, you know he would never come up to actually see you.

On top of that, you’re pretty sure he’s firm on his decision to not get involved with you again, regardless of his body’s reaction to you just a few hours prior.

As the clock strikes three, you give up and decide to take matters into your own hands. After your little breakdown, you didn’t even hesitate to order yourself a new vibrator because you knew you’d be back to taking care of your little problems yourself, so with a soft sigh you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out the little silicone toy.

However, as if destiny had just waited for this particular moment, Sunghoon’s contact name suddenly pops up on your phone screen and with your brows furrowed in confusion, you pick up his call way too fast.

“Don’t even bother yapping”, he says calmly, his voice hoarse and raspy, “just get your ass to my place. Jaeyun went over to stay at Jay’s place because they wanted to play games. Don’t make me wait, Snowflake.”

Sunghoon doesn't give you the opportunity to reply as he hangs up and throws his phone to the other side of his bed, jumping up to make himself look presentable – a thought he has yet to accept but as he washes his face and actually brushes his teeth, he simply can’t get himself to actually care about it.

The past two hours felt agitating. After you’ve successfully managed to make him hard with just a single touch, he’s been trying everything in his book to just cum only to fail miserably every single time.

He’s always wondered why other guys struggled to make you cum, labeled it as a women problem and went on with his day because never in his life has he experienced something like this. The fact he’s only ever crossed the finish line with your pictures on his phone screen or the little voice note you had sent him a few weeks ago during one of your steamy texting sessions has slowly turned into his biggest nightmare.

He’s a fucking man, for god’s sake. There’s absolutely no reason why he should struggle as much as he does yet here he is, patiently waiting for you to actually take him up on his offer.

When he had finally made the decision to give you a call, Sunghoon wasn't sure if you were even going to pick up because even if you didn’t seem as bothered and angered by his actions as he had expected you to be, he couldn’t help but doubt his ability to read your body language.

However, you picked up his call and didn’t try to contact him afterwards, which is his only indication of a possible night with you.

The mere thought of your sweet juices coating his tongue have him reaching for something to stabilize himself; he hates how much he actually likes your little pussy but he’s never been one to discredit what makes him feel good.

As the minutes pass and feel like hours, Sunghoon can’t help but wonder if he actually misread your body language, a wave of shame and embarrassment quickly overwhelming him and as he realises that he’s literally waiting for you, he struggles to recognize himself.

To his luck, destiny and life have finally come together to save him from self hatred and the torture it comes with as a soft knock on his front door sends shivers of actual anticipation run doen his back.

Subghoon waits exactly half a minute before he swings the door open and finally lays his eyes on your pretty frame. The fact he doesn’t even worry about hiding how much he wants you as his gaze hungrily roams your body, makes your skin heat up and if it wasn’t for your lack of clothes, you would have probably started sweating.

For a moment, neither one of you dares to say a word. The tension is thick and heavy, even worse than a few hours ago because now it’s just the two of you and the unbearable lust that’s been driving you both into insanity.

Sunghoon attentively watches the way you nervously scratch your neck and your reaction to his presence makes it impossible for him to suppress the little smirk sneaking up on his lips.

“It’s only been a week, snowflake”, he suddenly snickers and steps to the side to let you in, the sight of you in his hallway something he’s more used to, feels more comfortable with since it’s rather common for you to be at his shared apartment with Jaeyun, yet this seems to feel different.

“Shut the fuck up”, you say and roll your eyes, you don’t even bother to look back if he’s following you as you make your way to his room, skillfully ignoring the heat pooling in between your legs at the thought of what’s about to happen.

Sunghoon doesn’t immediately respond, mostly because he’s too focused on the way you’re swaying your hips with every step, the tiny camisole you’re wearing is not enough fabric to cover anything and giving him exactly what he’s been daydreaming about for the past week.

However, the second he locks the door to his room, you feel his strong chest pressing into your back, the prominent bulge in his grey sweats firmly nuzzled against your ass as he pushes you against the wall.

“You’re always so quick to bite, Snowflake”, Hoon whispers into your ear and wraps his big hand around your delicate throat, tilting your head back to get a proper look at your pretty face, a sight he has yet to get used to so up close, “I guess it’s time I fuck that little bitch attitude out if you again, hm?”

A soft whimper escapes your throat in response to his other hand finding home between your legs, gently caressing your clothed cunt but still firmly enough to give your clit the relief it’s been craving for way too long.

Your brain is quick to shut off, something you’ve noticed about yourself ever since you’ve started to sleep with Sunghoon. Of all people in this world, your archenemy has turned out to be the only one to make you forget about everything that’s currently going on in your life.

Maybe that’s why you don’t really hesitate to move your hips against his touch or actually allow yourself to moan his name. No amount of hatred and anger you feel towards him will ever be enough to overpower the deep, flaming lust in the deepest pits of your soul.

“Look at you”, Sunghoon suddenly chuckles and pulls your soaked panties to the side, “all because you sat on my lap for a little. Really? Are you that pathetic, snowflake?” His voice is filled with mockery and faux empathy, something you should have gotten used to by now but every time Hoon talks to you, it’s like he’s singing lullabies.

All you can do is nod desperately. You’ve been too tense, too stressed and frustrated to fight back, and he knows it.

So without an ounce of hesitation, he pulls away and leaves you longing for his touch, desperately, shamelessly. “You fucking bitch”, you hiss and turn around to meet gis gaze, only for the sight of his exposed torso to leave you speechless.

“Oh, no”, Sunghoon cooes and shoots you a shit eating grin, “an I being a big ol’ meanie? Not giving you what you want, hm? Come on, Baby, show me what you’ve got, I don’t want you to hold back with me. Tell me how much you hate me.”

He’s provoking and just as usual he’s doing it way too easily, a reminder of just how much he actually triggers you.

The longer your eyes roam his face, the needier you become and you know it’s because you actually are as easy for him as he loves to claim in front of you, but in no universe are you ready to admit that to him.

“Stop wasting my fucking time, Cunty”, you spit back and approach him with little steps, coming to a halt only an inch away from his strong body, “I want to ride your face and then your cock. You have a minute or I’m gonna go home and fuck myself with my new toy, I really have no patience for your little games tonight.”

Maybe it’s the sound of your vice or your intoxicating scent, but regardless of the reasoning, Sunghoon needs a whole minute to actually process your words.

In the month the two of you have been fucking each other, you’ve always remained very stubborn about your decision when it comes to any type of riding and since he wasn’t going to push you to do something you don’t want, Sunghoon had just accepted your rules and went with it.

However, this doesn’t mean he’s ever stopped fantasizing about you on top of him, riding his cock, his thigh, his face – the mental image of getting the best view of your perfect body has been engraved into his brain in a way he simply can’t explain.

“Hold the fuck up”, he says, his thick brows furrowed in confusion, the prettiest shades of pink covering his cheeks all the way down to his throat, “you want to ride me?”

“You and your face”, you shrug and pretend like it’s the most normal thing of you to ask, when in reality you’re about to lose your mind just thinking about it.

“Stop being so fucking casual about it”, Sunghoon grunts and gently but firmly grabs your face to pull you closer against his body, “the last time you let me do something you had refused to do before you broke down.”

The second you understand the night he’s referring to, you feel shivers run down your spine and with your bottom lip firmly tugged between your teeth, you look up at him.

You expect to be met with an expression of annoyance and indifference, only to realise Sunghoon seems genuinely concerned. You’re familiar with this particular softness in his eyes since you’ve seen it whenever any of your mutual best friends are talking to him, yet he actually hasn’t looked at you like this in over a decade.

“Look, I’m not trying to throw this into your face but that shit actually scared me”, I don’t want you to know how much it worried me, “so, just speak the fuck up for once and tell me what you actually want me to do”, so I never have to see you like that again.

For a short moment, you genuinely consider telling Sunghoon the truth behind your behavior but before you can go too deep, you remember all the times you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

So, with a soft sigh you wrap your fingers around his delicate wrist and never once shift your gaze from his as you speak: “I want to ride your face and I want it now.”

The internal battle of his emotions leave him in a state of confusion because no matter how badly he wants to do exactly what you’ve just asked for, he simply can’t shake off this weird feeling in his gut.

“That night I wanted to feel used so I let you hit it from the back”, you admit quietly, not quite sure why you’ve suddenly decided to change your mind but now it’s too late anyway, so why worry too much about it, right?

“But why?”

Are you guys really having a civil conversation about your feelings right before you’re about to ride his face or is all of this just one of his very vivid dreams about you?

“Because of the whole situation with Fuma and my brother”, you reply, still not really confident about the reason behind your unexpected urge to be brutally honest with Sunghoon, of all people.

However, the following reaction is definitely not what you’ve expected; though you’re generally not really sure what exactly you had expected of him in the first place.

Sunghoon lets out a loud scoff before he guides you to the edge of his bed, the side directly across his big wall mirror, just to drop to his knees and make sure you have no time to protest.

“That was a whole fucking shitshow”, he grunts and hooks his thumb underneath the band of your panties, quickly pulling them down your legs and spreading them apart to reveal your drenched cunt to his hungry eyes, “and you shouldn’t waste another minute thinking about it.”

You’re…confused.

What the fuck is he trying to do?

“Desperate virgins like that little fucker love to shoot against women who are confident in their sexuality because they know they could never, ever handle it”, Sunghoon says against the warm skin of your inner thighs, the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your sensitive cunt sending shivers down body and before you can actually understand what’s going on, you find yourself entering the familiar comfort of pleasure only he’s been able to provide you with.

“The only reason why I – or anybody gets to touch you is because you want it. Don’t let nobodies like that bitch take this away from you”, Hoon is confident as he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe over the length of your soaking wet cunt, humming softly when your sweet juices finally coat his taste buds again, “grow a fucking spine and stand behind the things you want for once in your life, Snowflake.”

This time you can actually hear the slight anger in his deep voice but of course Sunghoon isn’t going to give you the opportunity to respond and just as expected your words die in your throat as he wraps those pretty lips around your sensitive clit and starts sucking the nub into his mouth.

Every single time you let him go down on you, Hoon makes it seem like he’s basically on the verge of starvation. Loud slurping, obnoxious sucking and a row of deep grunts and moans the only noises to fill your ears as you tone out your own whimpers.

It doesn’t take much for your brain to fog up, the skillful flicks of his tongue casually push you deeper and deeper into the sensual haze of your pleasure.

“Don’t fuck with me”, Hoon suddenly grunts and pulls away but makes sure to rub gentle circles into your needy clit to keep you on the edge, “keep your eyes on your reflection. I want you to see what you’re letting me do to you.”

It’s then that you realized he’s probably been talking to you for who knows how long, yet you were way too busy losing yourself in the sweetness of your upcoming relief.

Hoon doesn’t wait for your answer because he knows you’re going to obey to his demand; too fucked out and close to protest.

Every now and then he manages to shift his focus away from the sweetest cunt he’s ever tasted to make sure your eyes remain on your reflection and when you struggled to keep it up at first, Sunghoon is quick to notice the shift in your expression when you seem to understand his intention.

And as he continues to thrust his tongue inside of your tightening hole, you can’t get yourself to look away, the image of your legs firmly dangling over his shoulders, face buried in your pussy and nothing but lust and arousal lingering in your body’s reactions, you actually feel all of those doubts and concerns about your own sexuality vanishing.

This isn’t about him using you. No matter how much Sunghoon eats pussy for his own pleasure, at the end of the night you’re the one who receives the satisfaction because you want it.

This particular epiphany in combination with Sunghoon’s tongue greedily lapping up every single drop of your juices has your head spinning. For the first time in your life you’re actually and genuinely aware who you’re doing this for and you feel a wave of anger wash over you when you remember who, of all people, happens to be the one to push you into this whole thought process.

“There we go”, Sunghoon suddenly chuckles when he pulls away just enough to breathe but still close enough to inhale the intoxicating scent of your ruined pussy, “was that so difficult, Snowflake? Now come on, show me what only I can do to you and cum for me. I wanna see how much you hate me, don’t disappoint me now.”

“No”, you suddenly whimper, your hand finally finding home in his thick hair as you pull on the strands to make him look at you and yet again the sight of Sunghoon with his flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and swollen lips overwhelms you all over again no matter how many times you’ve seen him like this already. The way not only the soft flesh of his lips but als the tip of his nose and the entirety of his chin are coated in your juices remind you of how he’s never, ever exaggerated about his love for oral sex.

“I wanna cum on your cock”, you whisper and brush his bottom lip with your thumb, mesmerized by just how pretty he looks when he’s quiet and ready to do whatever it takes to pleasure you, “and I want you to watch me ride you.”

“Oh? Think you’re smart when you use my own tricks on me?”, he chuckles lazily, his tongue darts out one last time to clean up the mess he’s made before he comes to stand right in between your legs, his own arousal evident in the form of a wet patch on the light fabric of his sweats.

You don’t hesitate to reach for his bulge, loving the way he gently thrusts himself into your fist and as soon as you look up at him with those glossy, needy eyes, Sunghoon knows what you’re thinking.

“Not now, little one”, he grunts and grazes your bottom lip with his thumb before he pushes the digit into your mouth, a soft hiss escaping his throat in response to the wet heat, “let me fuck this one out of my system and then I’m gonna let you choke on my cock for as long as my needy little whore wants, yeah?”

You don't even realize the agreeing movement of your head, too lost in the anticipation of being filled to the brim again but as soon as your ears recognize the gentle mockery in his voice, you bite down on his thumb with furrowed brows.

“Fuck you, Sunghoon”, you hiss and gasp when the only thing he does in response to your little brattiness is to firmly wrap his hand around your throat and pull you closer to his body.

“Oh, you’re about to, Snowflake”, he hisses and you can tell how tense he is just from the way his eyes are burning into yours, “now open that big mouth and stick your tongue out. I want you to cum with my taste on your tongue just how I’m gonna do with yours.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, you follow his instruction and before your brain can actually process it, the warm feeling of Sunghoon’s spit hitting the back of your tongue is the first thing to pull you back into reality.

It’s then that his patience has finally reached its limits and with a few swift motions Sunghoon is quick to take off not only his own sweats but also the flimsy little fabric you dare to call a pajama right after he’s made you straddle his lap.

“Condom”, you whisper against the warm skin of his neck when you desperately start humping his bare cock, your pussy basically accustomed to it after all the nights and even days, mornings you had spent with each other.

“Fuck, you’re right”, Sunghoon hisses annoyed and reaches for the drawer of his nightstand, when all of a sudden you reach for his arm and look up at him.

Now, you’ve definitely done questionable things these past few weeks, fucking your archenemy on a regular basis being one of the weirdest of them, yet for some reason you can’t seem to be having enough of testing your own limits.

You know nothing has changed between the two of you. At the end of the day you still hate him with the darkest and coldest parts of your heart and soul, confident it’s based on a mutual feeling of loathing and anger.

But at this point, after the things he’s just said and the things he’s made you do in the past few minutes, you can’t deny the slight shift in energy between the two of you.

But you’re rather doubtful that just that tiny shift is enough of a reason for you to actually make your next suggestion.

“I want you to raw me”, you breathe and never once shift your gaze away from his, “I’m on the pill and I haven’t fucked anyone besides you, I swear.”

Why would he ever trust you, though? Park Sunghoon has shown you countless times that he doesn't care about you or whatever you have to say, so why should that be different now?

“F-Fuck”, Sunghoon suddenly grunts and is now the one to bury his face in your tits, a nervous habit you’ve taken notice of throughout the past few times you two were intimate.

“Don’t fuck with me, you grumpy loser”, his voice is strained and filled with hesitation but he doesn’t even try to stop you from reaching between your bodies to grab ahold of his thick, throbbing cock, “I’m gonna ruin your life if you give me an STD.”

A soft but genuine chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head and line the tip of his cock up with your soaking entrance, desperate to finally feel him inside of you.

“Wait, oh – my fucking God”, Sunghoon’s protest surprises you and with your head slightly tilted to the side you wait for him to look at you.

“Hm? What happened, ice prince? Cat got that little tongue of yours?”

“Shut the fuck up”, he bites back and digs his fingers further into the soft flesh of your waist, “I might not last as long because I – never actually fucked anyone without a condom before.”

His confession makes your cunt clench around the tip of his cock and before you can even think about suppressing it, a soft moan rolls off of your tongue, easing some of the heaviness on his chest he wasn’t quite aware of.

Sunghoon hates being vulnerable in general but with you, of all people, it feels like an actual punishment for all the morally gray things he’s done in his life.

“Let’s see just how fast I can make you cum then, hm? I need something to rub into your face after all, don’t I?”

Sunghoon’s brows furrow in response to your mocking comment, a wave of resentment overwhelming his senses but you don’t give him the chance to verbally respond as you slowly lower yourself onto his bare cock.

You attentively watch the way his usually so stoic and sharp features soften, his annoyingly perfect features contorting in pleasure as his eyes roll into the back of his head and his chin slowly falls just enough to leave his lips in the perfect ‘O’ shape.

To keep it short and simple, you’re mesmerized by this new visual and actually regret not opting for this position earlier.

Not only are you in full control but it also gives you the perfect view on him and watching Park Sunghoon, of all people, fall apart underneath you is something you never knew you needed as badly as you did until now.

“E-Easy”, he gasps and throws his head back, every single fiber in his body overwhelmed by the sensation of your hot walls embracing his sensitive cock like they were made for him and him only.

With every single inch, Sunghoon feels his head spinning a little faster, the blood busy rushing in his ears as he loses himself in a feeling so sweet, so good, so relieving, he’s determined to make this moment last forever.

However, you have other plans.

“So big”, you whisper and subconsciously nudge your nose against his, rolling your hips once you’ve finally taken the entirety of his length and feel the last few breaths getting stuck in your dry throat, “I think I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Don’t you fucking dare”, Sunghoon responds quickly because he knows he’s going to lose the last of his dignity if you tighten around him just a little more; he simply won’t last.

“Fuck off”, you shoot back and ignore his pathetic attempts of keeping your hips in place, only for you to move faster and harder on his cock, too needy and desperate to actually care about what he wants.

“N-No, please”, this time Hoon’s voice is laced in desperation, high pitched and breathy, “I don’t want this to end yet.”

What the actual fuck did he just say?

“It won’t”, you whisper against his lips and push your hand away from your hip to finally move the way you need to, skillfully riding him in a proper and steady rhythm, making sure the tip of his sensitive cock hits your sweetest spots with every single one of your movements, “if you beg how i like it I’ll let you fuck and fill me up all night, how does that sound, pretty face?”

Sunghoon knows you’re teasing him. he’s very well aware of the shit eating grin on your lips but he physically and mentally can’t get himself to give a fuck.

The only thing on his mind is how good your hot pussy feels and and badly he wants to stuff you to the brim with his cum. If getting what he wants means to endure some of your stupid comments, he’s more than just willing to take it.

“Fine, fuck”, he grunts and against your lips, “just shut the fuck up and cum with me.”

It’s then that Sunghoon has had enough of your little game as he starts thrusting into your form underneath and without getting the chance to somehow prepare yourself for it, you feel the coil in your lower stomach snap and the first waves of your orgasm drown you in the sweet feeling of relief and pleasure.

Your brain has finally called it quits, hence your body being the one to make the decisions and just when Sunghoon’s thrusts slowly become sloppier, less coordinated and steady, you take his pretty face into your hands and pull him into a needy kiss.

The second your lips meet his, he’s a goner. The taste of your saliva coats the muscle of his tongue at the same moment the constant clenching of your cunt becomes too much, pushing him over the edge.

You don’t even hesitate to swallow every single one of hsi deep grunts and soft whimpers, enjoying the feeling of his mouth sloppily exploring yours a little too much as Sunghoon cums inside of you with three thick spurts of cum, coating the walls of your sensitive cunt in several shades of white.

But he doesn’t stop kissing you. In fact, Sunghoon pulls your face even closer and chases your lips like a man gone mad, desperate and fucked out in a way he’s never, ever felt before.

The sound of your heavy breathing, sloppy kisses and gentle whimpers the only thing to fill Hoon’s room for the next few minutes, but neither one of you actually minds.

“What the fuck”, he breathes and throws himself back onto the bed, his hands caressing your bare thighs as he looks up to you.

“Give me a few minutes and then I’ll get you a towel and something proper to wear”, Sunghoon’s words surprise yet comfort you, the fear of him abandoning you without another word yet again lingering in the back of your mind.

“Or do you wanna take a shower with me? I would love to take you up on that blowjob offer from earlier.”

After almost three hours filled with orgasm after orgasm, moans and high pitched whimpers, way too many profanities and actual decent conversation, Sunghoon watches you leave his apartment with your camisole in your hand, his hoodie covering most of your body and your messy hair falling into your sleepy face.

And in that moment he can’t help but question his feelings for you because there’s no way the person he claims to hate so much is supposed to make him feel as good as you do.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and here she is! the longest ive ever written for CH and ngl i’m actually a little proud. it’s deffo a little different to the previous smut chaps BUT i think still quite CH!hooyn! thank you guys so, so much for your patience and support, love and appreciation. i can’t even put into words how grateful i am. i love and appreciate you all so, so much. 🥺)

TAGLIST: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @jongszn @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @ariadores @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @luvkpopp @heeslut4life

[tiny-pretty-sana]

sana gf | headcanons

warning: nsfw content (+18), minors dni, men dni

sfw

sana is a ray of sunshine, the type of person that lights up a room as soon as she gets in

she’s welcoming, warm, and full of energy like having a coffee in a winter morning

she’s a dangerous combination of cute and sexy, she’s aware and she takes advantage of that. she knows exactly what to say and how to act to get her way

sana the type of girl that gets princess treatment without having to ask for it

you get her flowers, open the door for her, give her your jacket, carry her bag and you will do everything it takes to get the plushie she wants at the fair

she is aware of everything you do for her, she appreciates it and gives you all that love back

she is very empathetic. it helps to solve conflicts most of the time, but sometimes it can really affect her to see you upset and she cries with you the same way she celebrates your achievements as if they are her own

she’s an it girl, she’s up to date with the latest fashion trends, likes designer clothes and has an amazing fashion sense. since she's your girlfriend you've started to dress better

she takes you shopping and chooses your outfits on special occasions but her favorite thing is to wear subtle matching outfits with you

her love language is physical touch, so expect a huge amount of skinship

she clings to you, kisses you, hugs you, holds your hand, caresses you, plays with your hair, strokes you… she always has her hands all over you

she doesn’t mind pda to the point it can be too much and you sometimes have to stop her because things can get too cheesy or heated

she showers you with love and she wants everyone to know how much she loves you and how special you are

she posts ig stories of you with cute emojis or texts, photo dumps of your dates and she will randomly bring you up in conversation when you aren’t there

she will ask you to take a lot photos of her when you go on dates

her gifts are always expensive, luxurious, useful and she never misses

sana has a flirtatious personality, it’s something that just comes natural to her. she’s playful, she enjoys teasing you and likes seeing you get nervous but if you respond with the same energy you will have her blushing and giggling

she likes the attention and sometimes she might be flirty with her friends or strangers but you don’t really mind, you know she just likes attention and having a bit of fun

however don’t you dare to flirt with anyone that isn't her because she’s possessive and the jealous type of girlfriend. she’s been clear about that since the beginning and you actually love seeing this side of her

you can easily tell when she's jealous/mad because she looks like she’s about to slit the throat of anyone that gets too close or too touchy with you for her liking with her perfectly done nails

when she's jealous not even her empathy can save you. she won’t say anything, she will give you a cold shoulder until you apologize or convince her that she’s the only one for you

she always sends you mirror photos when she’s in the changing room, when she likes her outfit or when she tries a new make up even if you’re in the same room

when you aren't together she's the type of girlfriend that sends you a bunch of texts with a bunch of emojis and a bunch of exclamation marks

"good morning baby!💟" "have a great dayyy!!!🩷" "have you eaten yet?" "💗💗💗💗💗" "drink water!!! 😡💗" "i miss youuu!!! > < 💗" "good night babyyyy!!! 💖"

nsfw

as someone that expresses her love mostly through physical touch being intimate isn't essential or the center of your relationship, but it's important to her

she likes to make the best of these moments whether they are planned, spontaneous, rushed, soft and slow or fast and rough she will make you feel special, loved, desired, wanted and even worshiped

sana is a passionate, skilled and generous lover

that dangerous mix of cuteness and sexiness is also present in the room she might blush, giggle and cover her face and the next second she's whispering the filthiest things that she wants you to do to her in your ear

when you call her "princess" something just clicks in her brain

she is pretty much a switch in every sense of the word she enjoys bottoming, topping, being in charge and letting you have control

she's possessive, so of course she likes to mark you up and leave hickeys and bites all over your neck and other hidden places. luckily they're subtle enough so they can only be noticed if someone gets a litter too close

sana is usually so touchy that it is hard to tell apart when she is being her usual needy self and when she is just being a brat and is teasing you

casual touches on your thighs, kisses too close to the mouth, glances that undress you, praises that get a little too suggestive…

she's a tease, she likes attention and also praising, so sending you pictures of her cute outfits is not the only thing she does. when you're at work or out with coworkers or friend it's likely that you'll receive pictures of sana in underwear or lingerie if she feels like behaving because if she isn't she will be completely naked doing ungodly poses

she's a kinky girl, open to try new things and isn't shy about it, in fact she has made a few great suggestions that now are part of your routine

her main kinks are praising, degradation, bondage and orgasm control

she loves mix of praising and degradation "you're such a good slut for me, aren't you?" "taking me so well like the little whore you are" "my pretty slut"

she loves when you use the strap on her and she has recently started wearing the strap as well and you can't choose if she is better at giving or receiving

when you're using the strap she loves to do this thing . you lay on your back, she gets between your legs and her hand starts teasing you with strokes on your inner thighs, then she slides a finger between your folds and as soon as she feels your wetness she wraps her lips around the tip of the strap locking her eyes with yours if you're strong enough to look at her

she loves teasing but she hates being teased

if you tease her in an inappropriate place or at an inappropriate time when she can't do anything about it when you finally get home she'll make you sit in a chair in front of the bed and will make you watch while she touches herself

when this happens there are clear rules: 1. you can’t touch her 2. you can’t touch yourself

she is very vocal. she tells you what she wants, where to touch her and how to do it but she also moans without restraining herself and always lets you know how close she is and how good it feels

aftercare is just a long intimate session of cuddles and kisses