#with a fifth thrown in at the end for good measure

[twotimeracewinnerlandonorris]

i can't even a little bit with this fandom today.

lando norris has the most points scored after max since the austrian gp. he's been driving the wheels off the car all year, and let's not forget that the car was almost stationary throughout the first races. it truly wouldn't have mattered if he had fred flinstoned that car back in Bahrain, he wouldn't have gone any slower than he actually did. he is the fifth lowest when it comes to money that he has cost the team when it comes to crashes. he's an incredibly safe driver who knows how to handle the car. he was p2 in the sprint shootout. p2. he’s not finished. fuck off with that rhetoric.

his race pace is miles ahead of his teammate's (and that's not a jab at oscar cause unlike some fans i do not enjoy pitting these two against each other).

i have seen so many comments aimed at lando about him not "handling the pressure", how he "needs to do better", "needs to learn to not make mistakes", "needs to grow a thicker skin" and i don't even know where to begin.

first things first, he's 23 years old. that's the fourth youngest on the grid. we sometimes forget about that since he was only 19 when he debuted, and therefore we've had the pleasure of watching him race for almost five years.

lando has been very vocal about his mental health. it was horrible when he debuted in 2019. he had imposter syndrome, was incredibly hard on himself, and didn't have a lot of faith in his ability, something that he said in a press conference with sebastian vettel back in 2021. he has managed to work at his mental health, become an advocate for others and has shown great leadership in the team since he had to step up back in 2021.

there are not a lot of things that people can "use" against lando to try and make him sim like a "grid filler" or a mediocre driver. most of the time it comes down to one thing, and that's sochi 2021. that race is what people use to claim that he can't deal with pressure. but what people omit and fail to realise or just don't care about is that sochi was on the team, not on lando as a driver. he made a call to stay on the slicks because the team told him the rain would stay the same until the end of the race and then didn't update him when the forecast changed. even lewis said he would have made the same call, with the same information.

it's amazing to see, that in all the years that he's been on the grid, there's one thing that can be thrown back at him, and you really have to be stretching, or just plain stupid, to even use that.

because of this incident, people like to say that he can't handle the pressure of being an f1 driver. that's bullshit. we've seen time and time again that he can, in fact, handle pressure. it doesn't matter where it's coming from.

there are others saying that he can't handle the pressure coming from oscar since he's only really had to measure himself up against carlos as a rookie, and then dan, who was fucking shit, but again, that's bullshit. he's still miles ahead when it comes to race pace, setups and tyre management.

does he put too much pressure on himself? probably. but that's the hunger. that's what's keeping him going, keeping him motivated.

does he beat himself up too much? in my opinion, yes but that also shows that he's never satisfied and that he will keep going and won't stop until he's achieved what he's set out for himself.

sure, he now has the most points scored without a win in f1, with half the fewer races than the one in p2. can you even imagine that? lando, who has never had the fastest car in his 5 years in f1, now has 525 points in 98 races! what a fucking goat.

and you're telling me he's fifth in the "most podiums with a win" with ten podiums? imagine getting this many podiums in the mclaren he's been driving in! sure, it's gotten better after summer break, where he has scored 4 podiums, but good god, he must be an excellent driver to be able to get 6 podiums in the trashcan he was driving in 2019-2022.

lando is a lot of things, and i would say, (even if i wasn't biased and i wasn't rooting for him), that most of those things are positive.

but what you cannot say is that he isn't winning material, and isn't passionate about the sport.

and for every single person out there who loathes him because he dared win against their fave, i can promise you that there are more people who love him. he's adored and respected in the paddock itself by the people who actually matter, and he is wanted by the biggest team(s) there is because of his race craft and intelligence.

i can say with a straight face that lando norris is wdc material, and i feel sorry for you if you can't accept that.

[my-moony-and-padfoot]

Medicine time

TW: nothing, I think? I mean just some talk about being sick but nothing actually happens (like throwing up)

Also I know Trelawney (probably) wasn't a teacher back in their days, but it was just easier for me to write that way.

Word count: 5 000

The little signs of the upcoming full moon had started slowly that day. When he first woke up, the morning sun coming through the window was just a tad bit too much, and his back had ached a bit more than normally in the mornings. The different smells didn't start to annoy him until lunch, and the potions lesson after that was horrible. He tried to ignore it the best he could, but when the barely noticeable headache he had had since transfigurations had turned into a pounding one by the fifth, he couldn't ignore it anymore.

He was glad that it was Friday, meaning he could just stay in bed in the dark until Monday once he was done with lessons. But the fact that it was this bad on a Friday when the moon wasn't full until Monday, told him something he didn't really want to know.

The last lesson was divination, climbing the many steps made him feel dizzy, so much so that he had to steady himself against the stone wall before climbing the ladder up to the classroom after James. Sirius followed behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder when the smells of different herbs and perfumes off the classroom hit him.

“Alright?” He asked, looking worriedly at Remus, who nodded slightly, giving him a small smile after a minute. Sirius nodded, grabbing Remus' hand and pulling him further into the classroom, looking for the table James and Peter had picked; it was in the back of the class, in the darkest corner. They were pretty much sure that Trelawney didn't even see that far. Well, at least they hadn't been told off for sleeping in class in that corner, or not participating in whatever nonsense she was teaching.

Remus took a seat in one of the armchairs, throwing off the burgundy see—through scarf that had probably been forgotten there. The scarf smelled so much like perfume that it made James cough when it was thrown his way.

Sirius rested their hands on the armrest of the chair as he dug out his divination book, just for good measure if Trelawney happened to walk by their table. Remus dug out his books too, along with his notes and quill, but just set them down on his lap, not bothering to even look like he was doing something.

For once, he was glad of the dim lighting of the classroom, usually it bothered him as he couldn't see what he was writing or reading, but today it didn't. It would be perfect, but the scent of the herbs made him want to throw up and her high misty voice sounded more annoying than normally.

Remus could feel Sirius' thumb slowly rubbing small circles on his wrist, he appreciated it, it gave him something else to think about. Even though all the scents annoyed his heightened senses and irritated his nose, it still made him quite tired and after a while he couldn't help but close his eyes, resting his head on his arms on the armrest. Before he actually fell asleep, he could feel Sirius start to play with his hair, it felt nice, and comforting.

Remus never slept in class, never. No matter how tired or sick he was, he'd never fall asleep in class. But there he was now, dead asleep, a few minutes after resting his head down. Sirius looked at his boyfriend, feeling so bad for what he had to go through and just for him. Even though he was sleeping, Sirius continued to play with his hair, barely listening to what the professor was teaching them about palmistry.

When the class had finally dragged to the end, Sirius gently shook Remus awake, who groaned, even though sleeping had helped just slightly. “C'mon moons get up, let's go to our dorm.” Sirius whispered, and Remus opened his eyes, looking around confused before he realized where he was. He blinked a few times before getting up, letting Sirius grab his hand again and lead him out of the class.

They walked slowly towards the Gryffindor tower, seeing Lily coming down the corridor after a while going in the direction of the library, but she stopped in front of the pair. “Where are you going?” She asked.

Sirius looked at Remus, who was looking at Lily, trying to think for a minute of what to say “To our dorm.” He said simply, adjusting the bag better over his shoulder.

“You promised to come study with me after lessons.” Lily reminded. “Is everything alright?” She asked, sounding slightly concerned as she looked at Remus.

The thing was, she didn't know of his \little problem. Remus coughed to get rid of the sudden dryness in his throat. “Mm yeah, I'm alright. Just forgot.” He smiled, trying to look as alive as he possibly could. “You go. I'll come in a bit.” Lily nodded, walking past them and continuing towards the library. Remus turned to look at Sirius, who looked worried.

“You could've just told her you're sick. Because moony, you need to be in bed.  Not studying.” He said, and Remus nodded, knowing Sirius was right. But he had already promised, so he couldn't tell her now that he couldn't.

“I'll be fine. It's only for a few hours.” Remus said quietly, and Sirius nodded, even though he didn't quite believe what he said. “See you at dinner?” He asked.

“Of course.” Sirius smiled, reaching up onto his tiptoes to give Sirius a kiss before walking off. Remus smiled slightly before turning around to walk to the library after lily. He found her at their usual table in the far back corner, it was quiet and other students rarely came there, and Remus really appreciated that right now.

He pulled out his transfiguration book and a quill, he had to write an essay, it wasn't due until next Friday, but he didn't remember any of the other homework they had been given. So he started to scribble something on the paper, something he knew he'd throw away later.

“Remus?” Lily whispered after a while, he looked up, humming slightly. “Are you sure you're alright? You look a bit, eh, peaky.”

“Just didn't sleep well, I'm alright.” He attempted to give her a smile, but he wasn't sure if he succeeded at that or not, probably not.

“You're shaking and haven't written anything down in five minutes, just been staring off to space.” Lily said, sounding actually concerned of him, and Remus felt bad for doing that. “Are you getting sick?”

“I feel okay, Lils.” He lied. “Don't worry.”

“You'd tell me if something was really wrong, right?”

“Of course.” Remus smiled, continuing to write his essay. He felt bad for lying to her, he always did when he had to lie to someone. But he couldn't possibly tell her. He wasn't sure if she'd understand, she probably would, but he didn't want to take that risk or make her think differently of him. So, he was sticking with the lie, even though he didn't like it.

Lily didn't ask more questions about his well-being after that, which was good, she just continued doing her homework. He sighed of relief when the two hours had finally passed, and they could stop and go to the great hall. He didn't want to go there though, it was so loud there, and he definitely didn't want to eat. But he had promised Sirius, so he made his way there, and sat down next to him.

He dropped his bag onto the floor, and rested his head on his arms on the table. He just wanted to sleep, and be somewhere quiet. “Rem?” Remus turned his head to the side to look at Sirius, he looked even more worried than before. “Wanna eat something?” He shook his head, burying it back into his arms.

Sirius quickly ate his dinner, before shaking Remus' shoulder to get him up. “Let's go.” He said, and Remus just nodded, taking Sirius' hand, who took his bag before starting to lead him up to their dorm. He just trailed behind Sirius as they made their way up to their dorm.

He didn't even really notice where they were until Sirius whispered the password to the portrait, and it swung open. He sat down on his bed once they were in their dorm, he just wanted to fall into it, and pull the covers over him and never get up.

Sirius set their bags down and went to dig out some more comfortable clothes for Remus because their school uniforms definitely weren't. He found Remus favorite jumper, it was a warm dark blue one with some kind of pattern going along it, then just found a pair of joggers. He gave them to Remus who had been watching him. "I'll be right back." Sirius whispered, kissing his forehead, before disappearing to the bathroom.

He came back after a while he had a towel and a bucket with him, then he went to switch the lights off before he came back over to the bed Remus was in. He set the bucket down on the floor, and the towel on the bedside table before sitting down on the bed, with his back against the headboard.

"C'mere, moons." He said, moving so he was on the other side of the bed. "Head on my lap, I'll give you a little massage." Remus nodded, laying down on the bed with his head on sirius' lap, it felt good to lay down after today. "Wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

"Everything." He mumbled. "head the most." Sirius nodded to himself, starting to thread his fingers through remus' hair, scratching his scalp at the same time.

"I have something I think might help you. With the headache." Sirius said, after a while, Remus hummed to show that he was listening. Sirius nodded, reaching for the towel from the bedside table. He had run it under cold water and then put a spell on it to keep it cold. "It's a bit cold." He warned before pressing it against Remus' neck.

Remus jumped at the coldness, before relaxing, it felt nice. "Close your eyes, love." Sirius whispered, going back to playing with his hair, Remus nodded, making himself more comfortable there. "Do you want to sleep?"

" 's too early." He mumbled.

"Mm, maybe a bit. How did studying with Lily go?"

"Didn't get anything done." He yawned, cracking his eyes open to find sirius' other hand and take it into his, he closed them once his fingers were intertwined with his. "She kept askin' if I'm alright."

"Well you don't exactly look alright, my lovely moons." If Remus would've had any strength left in him to smack sirius' arm, he would've had, so he just weakly tapped his forearm before taking his hand back into his own.

"Hey. Not true."

Sirius chuckled. "No of course it's not true because it is everyday that you look like you've just woken from the dead."

"Stop bullying me." Remus mumbled, hiding his face, but Sirius could see a small smile on his lips. He turned to look at Sirius after a while. "You're not allowed to make fun of me when I'm not feeling well."

"Am I not?" Remus shook his head, resting his head back down. "What if I still do?"

"You won't get my chocolate."

Sirius gasped. "Oh no, I better stop then." He chuckled and Remus hummed.

"You better."

"Do you have any chocolate?" Sirius asked, and Remus nodded. "where?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"You're gonna eat them all."

"I'd never do such a thing." Remus laughed quietly. "I'm being serious moony, I know better than to steal your chocolate. You'd murder me."

He shook his head. "I love you too much to murder, only torture a bit."

"Oh, how nice of you." He chuckled, going back to brushing his hand through remus' hair. "Well I can only hope that my non murderous boyfriend will learn to share at some point."

Remus hummed again, and a silence fell over them after that. Sirius was honestly surprised that Remus was this chatty because usually when the full moon was approaching he was really quiet, rarely saying anything. Maybe he was just overly tired, that tended to make him chatty. But he didn't mind. It was quiet for a while and Sirius was pretty sure Remus had fallen asleep.

"I feel bad for lying to her." He whispered quietly.

"To Lily?" He nodded. "have you- have you thought of telling her about our furry little friend?"

"Mhm." He mumbled. "I don't want her to think differently about me because of it."

"She wouldn't." Sirius said, trying to think of a proper answer, something that would comfort him at least a little. "You know, she'd probably understand. Because well, it's lily." Remus shook his head. "She'd find every book in the library that even has the slight mention of the word werewolf. Then she'd read them all so she could understand it all better, and then you'd get sick of her asking if you're okay."

"Do you really think that?" Remus asked, lifting his head to look at Sirius. He nodded, tucking a dirty blond curl behind his ear, it only barely stayed there, but it did.

"I don't only think that, I know that." Sirius said, in the most matter of fact tone he could find, and Remus smiled tiredly, about to say something when the lights suddenly flicked on. He ducked his head down, shielding his eyes from the bright light, Sirius ran a hand through his hair, sending a death stare to James who had just came into their dorm, followed by Peter. "Turn the lights off, idiot." He said, and James looked back at him with wide eyes, glancing at Remus before switching the lights off.

Sirius reached to draw the curtains close around the bed, to try to make it even more dark. "Come up here, I want proper cuddles." Remus slowly crawled over to Sirius, resting his aching head on his chest, throwing one of his legs over Sirius', half laying on top of him, but Sirius just smiled. He pulled the blanket over both of them, before wrapping his arms around Remus.

He let out a happy sounding noise, rubbing his nose against Sirius' collarbone for a minute, if it was any other evening Sirius would have laughed at his antics, but tonight he didn't, he just smiled to himself, thinking the boy looked really cute like that.

Remus' breathing started to even out after a minute of being there, Sirius closed his eyes, adjusting his head on the pillow. He decided to wait until Remus would fall asleep before letting himself drift off. "I love you, moons, sleep well."

"Mm, love you too." He mumbled already more asleep than awake. Sirius could feel the head resting on his chest grow heavier as he was pulled more into sleep. "We never sleep like this." He slurred after a while, clearly trying to fight off sleep.

That was true, it was usually the other way around, Remus liked sleeping on his back more, that way it didn't hurt that much in the morning, and Sirius liked to sleep curled up around his boyfriend, his head resting on his chest.

"We don't, but you need it now. I don't mind, rem." He whispered, running his hand through remus' hair. "Shush now, let's sleep." Remus nodded, it didn't take long for him to fall asleep after the day he had had, and Sirius wasn't that far behind him.

– –

Saturday was even worse. He felt weak and nauseous and just overall bad. He hadn't slept well, he kept waking up to sudden shooting pains in his head, and to the smallest noises.

He pulled the covers more over him and turned to his side once he heard the door open. It was already afternoon, but he had been sleeping most of the day off. Then he heard something being set down onto the nightstand and someone sit down next to him on the bed.

When the covers were pulled back, he slowly opened his eyes, only to see Sirius smiling at him. “Morning, sleeping beauty.” He hid his head on the pillow at that, trying to swat away the hand that came to brush his hair away. “Hey, no hiding, Re. You need to eat something.”

“Absolutely not.” He mumbled, looking back at Sirius.

“C'mon you need to eat, even if you don't want to. You haven't eaten since lunch. Yesterday.”

“It's gonna come right back up.” He argued, but Sirius shook his head. “Sirius, please no.”

“You start feeling more sick because you haven't eaten. Besides, I only got you some toast with butter and water.” Remus nodded, slowly sitting up and accepting the plate and water bottle Sirius gave him.

He ate slowly, not wanting to be sick or feel even worse. He ate the two lightly buttered slices of toast, and took a few sips of the water before setting the things back down onto the nightstand.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, once Remus stopped eating, and leaned against the headboard.

“Fucking horrible.” Remus said, glancing at Sirius, who frowned slightly.

“I could go ask Poppy if she'd have something to help you?” He suggested, but Remus shook his head. “Okay moony, but if you get any worse, I'm going.”

“Okay.”

“Something you want, need?” He asked then, but Remus didn't answer. “I can give you some cuddles, or I can read to you, or I can go away if you'd like.”

“Stay?” He asked, looking back at Sirius, who nodded, moving to sit down next to him. Remus leaned his head on Sirius' shoulder, closing his eyes.

“Want me to do something?” Remus shook his head, getting closer to him when Sirius shifted, so he was sitting against the headboard better. “Lay down, love. You'd be much more comfortable.” Remus did what he was told, shifting, so he was laying down, cuddling close to Sirius.

He hid his face partly into Sirius' stomach, who started to play with his hair, and took one of Remus' hands into his. “You've been smoking.” Remus mumbled after a minute, rubbing his nose against Sirius' jumper to get rid of an itch.

“Is it irritating? I can take the jumper off, if that helps.” Remus shook his head, for some reason that smell wasn't too much, it was something so familiar and just safe that he didn't mind it.

He closed his eyes again, feeling like he could fall asleep once more, even though he had already slept for most of the day. He listened to the slow and quiet humming, making him fall asleep almost immediately, the hand in his hair only helping.

Sirius was really worried about him, Remus hadn't been this bad before a full moon in almost a year. Usually, it was only the day before, not a few days like this. It was horrible and heartbreaking to watch his boyfriend be in so much pain, but at the same time, he was glad that he could make it at least a bit better.

He didn't mind that he had to be there to take care of him and just sit there to be used as a pillow. He didn't mind because he knew Remus would do the same thing for him, and he couldn't just possibly be away when Remus was feeling so horrible.

Even though he had fallen asleep, Sirius kept playing with his hair, just watching over him to make sure he was alright. He seemed peaceful while he slept, although the pained look on his face didn't go away even when he was sleeping.

He pulled the blanket over them when he noticed Remus shiver a few times, cuddling closer to him. He woke up after about an hour of sleeping, hiding his face in Sirius' stomach as he was pulled out of sleep.

“ 'm cold.” He whispered, and Sirius pulled the blanket better over them, tucking it tighter around him, before moving his hand up to Remus' forehead.

“You feel a bit warm, love.” He said, worried. Remus didn't get fevers often when he was like this, but he sometimes did and when he got them it was usually terrible. “Are you really feeling cold?”

“So fucking cold.”

“Okay, how about I get you another jumper? And maybe a blanket?” Remus nodded against him, and with that, Sirius got up from underneath him. He grabbed another jumper for Remus and his own blanket from his bed, before walking back over. “Sit up?” Remus slowly sat up, looking up at him, blinking a few times before pulling the jumper he was given over his head.

“Can I go get Poppy?” Sirius asked, biting his lip as he looked at the state Remus was in, but he shook his head, closing his eyes as the movement caused him pain. “Please Rem, I'm starting to get scared.”

Remus looked up at him, seeming to understand that panicked tone in Sirius' voice, even though his head was working really slowly. Sirius felt relieved when Remus nodded.

“Wanna lay back down?” He asked, and Remus nodded again. He helped him lie down, tucking both of the blankets around him. “I'll be right back, yeah?”

“Okay.” He mumbled, already falling back to sleep, as he got more comfortable under the blankets. Sirius nodded to himself before leaving their dorm. He pulled the covers better over him when Sirius left, mostly hidden under the covers now, but he still felt so cold.

His slumber was disturbed once again when the door of their dorm opened and two sets of footsteps walked over to the bed. Then he felt a hand come up to his forehead, he opened his eyes, seeing poppy standing next to the bed. She gave him a sympathetic little smile, as she pulled her hand back.

“You feel a bit warm, Remus.” She said, and he nodded a little. “Could you sit up, so I can check you over?” He nodded again, slowly sitting up on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. “Can you tell me how you're feeling?”

“Everything hurts, but mostly my head.” He explained slowly, glancing between madam pomfrey and Sirius, who was sitting down at the foot of the bed, looking distressed. “It's really cold.”

“Okay, Mr. Black told me that this started yesterday? And I assume it's only been getting worse since that, no?” He nodded. “I'm quickly going to take your temperature and then give you some medicine that'll hopefully help.”

“Okay.”

She took his temperature, it was a bit high but not too bad. “This one,” she said, showing a small bottle to both Sirius and Remus. “Helps with your fever, and take this before you go to bed for the night.” She explained more to Sirius, though kept looking at Remus. “Then this other one should help with your headache and other symptoms, more or less.”

She gave a dose of both of the medicines to Remus, before handing the two bottles to Sirius, who nodded. “Is there something else I can do?” Sirius asked, biting his lip as he looked at his boyfriend. He looked absolutely miserable there.

“A lot of sleep and rest, there's really nothing else we can do, but if it does get worse during the night, please come to me in the morning.” Sirius nodded again before she left.

“Alright, moons, time to have some more rest.” He smiled, getting up and setting the two bottles on the nightstand before getting in next to Remus, slowly shifting, so they were laying down, and he could cuddle up to him.

He pulled the blankets over them, kissing Remus' head once he got settled down on his chest. “I love you, moony.” He whispered after a moment, hearing Remus mumble something similar in response.

Sirius fell asleep too with Remus, it wasn't that late yet, but he was tired too. When he woke up about an hour later, Remus was already awake, watching James and Peter playing chess in the dark.

“Feeling any better?” Sirius asked, yawning quietly as he looked around.

“A bit.”

"That's good, love. Still cold?" Remus nodded, hiding his face more into the jumper that was pulled up to his nose. "What time is it?" He asked, still feeling a bit out from just waking up

"Little over ten." James said, looking away from their chess game for a second, he was losing. He only had a few pieces left in the game while Peter was about two moves away from winning.

Sirius nodded, brushing his hand through Remus' hair again as he watched the two play. "Let me win for once." James groaned, flopping down onto the floor as he lost. Remus winced slightly at the somewhat loud noise. Sirius held his hand over his ear, trying to block the noise out as Peter and James started to put away their chess pieces.

After they got up from the floor, going to get ready for bed, Sirius closed the curtains around their bed. "Thank you." Remus whispered, looking at Sirius who smiled, leaning to kiss his forehead.

"Don't need to thank me, love." He said, but Remus shook his head. "I'm just glad you're feeling even a bit better now."

"My head is not that- foggy anymore." He said, trying to think for a better word.

"That's good. I was really worried about you earlier." Remus just nodded, not sure what he should say. "Hasn't been this bad in a long time has it?"

Remus shook his head. "Sorry for worrying you." He whispered, resting his head back down onto sirius' chest. "And for making you scared."

"It's okay, don't be sorry, rem." He whispered softly, rubbing his back. "It's going to be over soon, yeah?" Remus nodded, sitting up so he could pull off the other jumper he was wearing, bit quickly getting back under the blankets, and close to Sirius. This time, laying his head on the same pillow so he could look at Sirius.

"I'm really scared, Siri." Remus whispered after a while when he heard the quiet noises around the stop as both James and Peter climbed into their beds.

"What are you scared of?" He asked, brushing a stray strand of hair behind his ear, watching as tears slowly started to well up in his eyes. He saw Remus glance towards the window, even though he couldn't see out of it right now due to the curtains. "Of the moon?"

He nodded, trying his best to blink the tears away. "It's bad." He whispered, slightly leaning into the touch as Sirius cupped his cheek, gently brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. That only made him want to cry more, unable to hold all the emotions in anymore. "I don't want to, Sirius. I don't -"

"I know, love." He said simply, wiping away the tear that fell down from the corner of his eye. "C'mere, love." Sirius whispered, pulling Remus close to him, and the boy hid his face into sirius' chest, tears slowly started to fall down.

"It's going to be alright, rem." He said, holding him close. He wasn't sure what he could actually say or do to make it better somehow, because there wasn't really anything to make it better. If he could he'd take all of it away from Remus, but unfortunately he couldn't do that.

Remus shook his head, letting out a few quiet sobs. "Shh, don't cry, it's okay, I promise, love. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but it's gonna be alright." He whispered into remus' hair, rubbing his back at the same time. "But remember you don't have to be alone, I'll be there yeah? And so is Jamey and Peter, right? We're all gonna be there, right with you."

He nodded slightly. "Y-you gonna stay? When it's o-over?"

"Of course I'll stay with you." He said, kissing his head. "You don't have to be alone with this, never ever." He nodded again.

They were quiet for a while, Remus slowly calming down, the tears slowly drying out and the quiet sobs turning to small sniffles. He only hid his face more into sirius' chest as the headache got worse from his tears.

"Aw, that's no good." He whispered, reaching up to gently massage his temples, to try to ease the headache at least a bit. "Want another cold towel? Did that help yesterday?" Remus nodded, frowning a bit as Sirius got up from the bed. But he came back soon, sitting down onto the bed and grabbing the two bottles from the nightstand. "Medicine time."

Remus sat up, taking the bottles and taking both of them before, laying back down. Watching as Sirius pulled of his jumper before getting back under the covers, pulling Remus close to him again.

He rested his head on Sirius' chest, jumping slightly as the cold towel was pressed against his neck, but closed his eyes after a minute. He listened to sirius' calm breathing and calm heartbeat.

"Sirius?" Remus whispered after a while, lifting his head slightly so he could look at him, he hummed, opening his eyes to look at Remus. "Thank you." Sirius was about to open his mouth to protest, but Remus interrupted him before he could say anything. "No really, thank you. F-for just being there."

"Of course I'll be here."

"But why?"

Sirius smiled a little sadly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "Because, I care about you and love you, no matter what. I hate seeing you like this, so if there's anything I can possibly do to make it even a little better, I'll do it."

Remus only nodded, when he laid his head back down. "I love you too." He whispered.

"I love you more, now go to sleep. You need to rest, moony."

"I can't sleep."

"Hmm, well what if I read to you and you try to sleep?" He suggested trying to think of something that would help him sleep, or relax at least.

"I'm not six, I don't need a bedtime story."

"Sixteen and six are quite close, no?" He asked, earning a small smile from Remus. "But no seriously, I can read to you if you want, it's no problem." Remus only nodded slightly, watching as Sirius reached for the bedside table and pulled out a book. He recognized it as the one he had found from the library a few days ago.

Sirius started to read quietly from the first chapter, and Remus listened, first following the text at the same time Sirius read, but closed his eyes after a while, slowly starting to drift off to sleep. Sirius finished the chapter, before putting the book down, almost sure Remus had fallen asleep.

"Goodnight love, sleep well. I love you." He heard a mumbled response from Remus, Sirius kissed his head, leaning more into the pillows, and slowly falling asleep.

A/N:

Alright, hello :)

Okay, that was long, I hope you liked it and that it doesn't repeat itself too much (I felt like that when writing but when I read it I don't think it is) anyway, I might be wrong.

Schools hit harder than I thought, literally someone help me please, anyway I've had this in my wip pile for a while and few days ago wrote the ending.

But like I said, school hit hard so I'm not sure how much time/energy I'll have to write but we'll see, right

Anyway, I hope you liked this

<3

[oknowkiss]

fic post: draco malfoy’s substitute murder service

PAIRING(S): DRARRY, MINOR HARRY/CHARLIE RATING: E WORDCOUNT: 10.5K

READ ON AO3 HERE!

TAGS: Harry POV, Curse Breaker Harry Potter, Knockturn 30 Under 30 Draco Malfoy, Neither of them are very good at their jobs tbh, Both of them are worse at Emotions, They’re great at being horny though, Frotting, Mutual Masturbation, Oops! All Feelings, there’s a lot of monsters, it’s technically a Christmas fic, I saw Harry kissing Santa Claus

WARNINGS: Light Gore (Monster-related, brief mentions of blood and organs), Light Angst, Kinda Sorta Emotional Infidelity (more details in A/N), Open/Ambiguous Ending

SUMMARY: When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

OR: the one where Draco goes goblin mode, and Harry has a thing for monsters.

hello hello! it’s here! my christmas fic! on december 31, which is actually christmas day six so it’s fine. this is for @mintawasalreadytaken who typo’d “baba yaga accidental kiss” in a comment on the july tree and i was like “well, we can’t let that slide.” so i wrote 10k about it. let this be a warning to the rest of you. 

thank you to @sorrybutblog who has, as usual, shined all my rough spots. any remaining mistakes are my fault for sneaking back into the file to fuck around after she put me to bed.

this is the first fic i’ve written since june that hasn’t been for a fest of some kind, and as such i went a little off the self-indulgent deep end. this one is a little dark, a little wacky, a whole lot of sticky, with some Totally Normal Reactions to Kissing thrown in for good measure. i hope you enjoy! 

(special paging in @geesenoises @teacup-tai​ @nv-md @roseharpermaxwell @reliand @epitomereally @makeitp1nk @battleravyn who read the wipsnip here and asked to see more. the more has landed)

[f1]

Bottas delighted with really important points in Sao Paulo as Alfa Romeo edge clear of Aston Martin for P6

Valtteri Bottas expressed his satisfaction after a determined drive to P9 at the Sao Paulo Grand Prix put Alfa Romeo five points ahead of Aston Martin in the battle for sixth position in the constructors’ standings. Bottas displayed strong pace as he rose from 14th on the grid to fifth position over the course of Sunday’s encounter, only for a late Safety Car to leave him exposed on older tyres and open the door for a handful of rivals. Nonetheless, the Finn held on to claim ninth and bag two valuable points, giving his team a solid numerical advantage over Aston Martin – who took P10 with Lance Stroll – ahead of this weekend’s season-ending Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. READ MORE: 5 Winners and 5 Losers from the Sao Paulo Grand Prix Reflecting on his afternoon at the wheel, Bottas said: “It was good – a good race, good battles. I really enjoyed it! Obviously, it’s always more enjoyable when you have the pace. Starting 14th and ending up ninth is good. “We’re happy, because we again scored more than Aston. For us, it’s really important [to secure P6 in the standings]. At least the last two events we’ve been a bit stronger again, so that’s good to see. One more to go and we need to seal it in Abu Dhabi.” ‘A difficult race with issues everywhere’ says Zhou after P12 in Brazil Zhou Guanyu had to settle for 12th position in the other C42 as he rued a host of problems ranging from helmet trouble to a faulty turbo, while also noting that he pitted eight laps earlier than team mate Bottas – only adding to the challenge at the final Safety Car restart. “On my part, it was quite difficult, because firstly I got something stuck in my helmet, so it was kind of getting annoying, the drinks pipe... I had to remove that,” said Zhou, who was making his first outing at Interlagos, with the Sprint format thrown in for good measure. “We were lacking… [we had] turbo issues on the exit of the corners, so we suffered a lot, especially on the [Safety Car] restarts – we have to investigate why. MONDAY MORNING DEBRIEF: Why Red Bull had no answer for Mercedes and Ferrari in the Sao Paulo GP “It’s good to see that the team recovered for the championship. Also for me, after the first part of the race [when I was] suffering, trying to push other teams to pit earlier, for having a better result for my team mate, but overall it’s working well.” Bottas holds 10th in the drivers’ standings on 49 points after back-to-back top 10 finishes, with Zhou 18th, having scored six points across his rookie campaign to date. via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[jcmarchi]

Scientists Combine Climate Models for More Accurate Projections - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/scientists-combine-climate-models-for-more-accurate-projections-technology-org/

Scientists Combine Climate Models for More Accurate Projections - Technology Org

Researchers from institutions including the Department of Energy’s Oak Ridge National Laboratory have created a new method for statistically analyzing climate models that projects future conditions with more fidelity.

A new method for analyzing climate models brings together information from various lines of evidence to represent Earth’s climate sensitivity. Image Credit: Jason Smith, Oak Ridge National Laboratory, U.S. Dept. of Energy

The method provides a way to adjust for models with high temperature sensitivities — a known problem in the community. By assigning different weights to models and combining them, the researchers estimate that the global temperature will increase between 2 and 5 degrees Celsius by the end of the century.

This projection, published in Nature Communications Earth & Environment, aligns with previous projections, although this novel framework is more inclusive, avoiding the rejection of models that was common practice in previous methods.

“We don’t judge models individually,” said Elias Massoud, a computational ecohydrologist at ORNL. “Instead, we see how they can be put together, using their combined information to get projections of the future.”

A key parameter for these models — known as equilibrium climate sensitivity or ECS — describes the relationship between change in carbon dioxide and corresponding warming. Although the Earth system has a true ECS, it is not a measurable quantity. Different lines of evidence can provide a plausible picture of the Earth’s true ECS, which can alleviate the uncertainty of simulation models.

However, many models assume a high ECS and predict higher temperatures in response to more atmospheric carbon dioxide than occurs in the real Earth system. Because these models provide estimates about future conditions to scientists and policymakers, it is important to ensure that they represent the conditions of the Earth as faithfully as possible.

Previous methods mitigated this issue by eliminating models with a high ECS value. “That was a heavy-handed approach,” said Massoud. “The models that were thrown out might have good information that we need, especially for understanding the extreme ends of things.”

“Instead, we adopted a tool called Bayesian Model Averaging, which is a way to combine models with varying influence when estimating their distribution,” said Massoud. “We used this to constrain the ECS on these models, which enabled us to project future conditions without the ‘hot model problem.’”

Many models come from similar code or have the same parameters, thereby creating concerns about model independence. “If two models are dependent, then they give the same information,” said Massoud. “Our work uses the results of the weights to estimate how much independence each shows and then factors that into their influence, so the same information is not double counted.”

This new method provides a framework for how to best understand a collection of climate models. The model weights included in this research informed the Fifth National Climate Assessment, a report released on Nov. 14 that gauges the impacts of climate change in the United States.

This project also supports the Earth System Grid Federation, an international collaboration led in the U.S. by DOE that manages and provides access to climate models and observed data.

“Our work integrates model data with observed data to get the best estimate of the state of the Earth system,” said Massoud. “This enables scientists to make more accurate, precise projections about how the Earth and climate are changing.”

UT-Battelle manages ORNL for the Department of Energy’s Office of Science, the single largest supporter of basic research in the physical sciences in the United States. The Office of Science is working to address some of the most pressing challenges of our time. For more information, please visit energy.gov/science.

Source: Oak Ridge National Laboratory

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[secret-engima]

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret DoTF Characterization Rant

OKAY, ME RANT RAMBLING ON LUNA’S CHARACTERIZATION IN DAWN OF THE FUTURE IS A GO.

This is … likely going to get messy, but I’ll try to keep it at least moderately coherent. Lemme start by saying that- for the most part- I did actually enjoy Luna’s chap. I’ve been enjoying the book (kinda-sorta-mostly, I really liked Aranea’s chap at least) and I don’t think it’s like- a BAD book? Necessarily? But I feel like it is extremely telling in regards to how the characterization/lore is treated that my brain is automatically filing this thing under “fanfic that’s not my HC but is okay-ish” rather than “canon I will be gleefully tweaking as I please”. My brain is literally looking at this officially licensed book and equating it to fanfic. To fanfic that NEEDS EDITING.

With that out of the way, lemme attempt to summarize my (main) issues with Luna’s Characterization and then I’ll expand on them from there. Get ready for the salt.

1. Luna’s backstory is inconsistent. She herself states multiple times that Oracle training is grueling and involves both physical and mental trials as well as things like fasting for long periods of time WHILE doing said training, yet she is mostly treated like a well-meaning but overall pampered, naive princess who is only now being forced into hard circumstances and has to adapt accordingly. She is also treated like she doesn’t know “common people” that well and doesn’t know how to interact or pick up things like lies (????). A common example is how she treats Sol as trustworthy but reserved when according to Sol’s POV she is literally debating shooting Luna as a possible threat. And Luna supposedly doesn’t pick up on this danger. But we’ll get back to that.

2. Luna is characterized as being oblivious to how people outside Rich Oracle Circles live. That despite traveling all over the world she has never really seen it’s “ugly” sides because she’s always traveled in fancy guarded processions with the sick brought to her. Pretty sure the book specifically mentions at one point that she’s never “considered” what it would be like to be anything other than an Oracle. Admittedly this issue could go under number 1 or 3a but I’m putting it here because I’m salty.

3a. This and the next problem are heavily intertwined and, not going to lie, I could make an entire rant just about these two issues all by themselves, not just in Luna’s context. The first is that Luna is portrayed as not being able to make her own decisions, not even wanting to make her own decisions, until she is forced to or has her “eyes opened” by Sol, our jaded Long Night survivor character. The author treats Luna’s sense of duty as some form of social brainwashing she needs to “get over” and spoiler alert I hate it with every fiber of my being.

3b. Playing right off the whole “Luna is incapable of making her own decisions and that’s why she does her freaking job until someone ‘opens her eyes’” is the idea that Luna’s faith is a character flaw. Lemme reiterate. The story treats Luna’s faith. As a character flaw. Rather than the entire cornerstone to her character and one of the big reasons she’s as amazing as she is. Her faith is treated as foolish and shortsighted, something that has only survived for this long because it has never been challenged and, heads up, the rant I am going to go into on this one specific thing is going to be long and extremely salty.

Alright I think I’ve covered the basics. Starting from the top, BRING ON THE SALT.

…

1. Luna is pampered, well-meaning but naive and bad at reading ulterior motives of people.

….*slow, deep breath* Luna. The Oracle. Who became the youngest Oracle in history. Because her mother was murdered in front of her while her home was burned down and conquered by the people who then proceeded to rule her country, subvert her brother to their cause, and generally control and monitor every aspect of her life that they could. Luna, who was fully prepared to take a single suitcase and escape her own home and run off alone to get to Altissia and had to be stopped by her own brother (who you’ll note brought a bunch of soldiers with him, which indicates he did not expect a submissive response if he came alone).

This girl who was canonically physically abused as a child by a Niflheim officer (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZHzBtIfpdg slow this down if you need to confirm, but she is grabbed and manhandled and hit by an adult man when she only looks to be twelve, around the age Tenebrae first fell), who has spent twelve years living under the rule of a nation that is not only aggressively atheist but has willfully attempted to kill one of the very beings she serves and openly plans to do so again. The woman who successfully survived the fall of Insomnia with only one magic-less glaive as her backup for most of the event, then evaded the search efforts of an entire empire with only her own wits, a dog, a Messenger who has only ever been shown to talk rather than fight, and the extremely grudging on-off help of her brother who works for said empire. All while waking up the Astrals and forging covenants that were slowly killing her from the strain, which is the exact thing the empire was trying to prevent her from doing. Then, when it became necessary to complete the last covenant, turned herself in to the very same empire that has imprisoned her since she was a child and has been actively hunting/trying to stop or kill her since Insomnia’s fall.

That girl. Is pampered. Is naive. Is bad at reading people and telling when they have ulterior motives or are lying.

Pull the other one. I’ll kick you.

But seriously, how are we supposed to believe this? Luna’s life post Tenebrae’s fall to Niflheim is only pampered in the sense that she was given fancy clothes and fed regularly (outside the grueling fasting periods mentioned in this same book). She had no freedom, no privacy, her guards were all either men who wore the same uniform as those who killed her mother or were monsters infected with the very scourge she is sworn to purify. The Oracle is famous, is revered by the people. To keep the people on their side, the Empire would have flaunted her, would have taken her to all the shiny events. Luna would have had to dine with, converse with, even dance with the very same people who ordered and condoned the murder of her mother, her own imprisonment, and the brainwashing of her own brother to the enemy side. She would have been the epitome of a bird in a gilded cage or a dog on a silk leash and humans are not meant to live like that.

Am I really expected to think she survived a situation that oppressive, that toxic, that actively hurtful, for years by being naive and bad at reading people? Am I really expected to believe that she cannot tell when people are out to use her or hurt her or are lying to her? Am I really expected to believe that she is pampered and doesn’t have, at the very least, PTSD from seeing her mother murdered and her brother join the very people who did it, let alone everything else that would have followed over those years?

Really?

Luna didn’t have a pampered life. She suffered abuse. Longterm emotional abuse, likely sporadic physical abuse until she learned to play along well enough to escape such punishments, and almost certainly gaslighting (again: religious leader being held captive by an aggressively atheist nation that wants to kill the pantheon this religious leader communes with).

Luna would have learned to navigate the canonically cutthroat politics of Niflheim while being at best an outsider and at worst a target because of her beliefs, her nationality, and her loyalties to the Lucians (nobody was surprised when Luna went on the run. Nobody. Her continued devotion and loyalty to the Lucians -Niflheim’s enemy- was absolutely a well known factor). She would have learned to pick truth from lie and when to pretend she hadn’t noticed in order to survive. She would have lived twelve years knowing that any mistakes or misplaced moments of trust would be paid for in either her suffering of the suffering of the people close to her like her servants, or just the citizens of Tenebrae in general.

And none of this is taking into account her Oracle training, which the book does not elaborate on but repeatedly states was hard and grueling and she completed it years earlier than any Oracle in history.

There are a lot of words I would use to describe Luna, but pampered and naive are not among them.

…

2. Luna is oblivious to how people outside her rich circles live and has never considered being anything else but an Oracle until Sol specifically points it out.

The book states that she mostly travels in procession (ie, with tons of servants to serve her every need and bodyguards to keep the masses at bay) so clearly she can’t go anywhere too dangerous, otherwise her servants wouldn’t be able to come. Right? Oh boy where do I start with this.

I know! Let’s start with the fact that Luna canonically maintains the blessings on Havens! You know those things. They’re your only safe place to camp at night and they can be found in all sorts of nifty locations like the middle of the wilderness where cars can’t go, chocobos won’t go, packs of wild animals will literally leap out of the bushes to eat you (Voretooth packs can get up to twelve or more members all trying to eat you at once, fun fact), and poor choice in clothes will lead to broken ankles at best? The ones that can be found in the depths of locations so dangerous that even the Hunters are leary of going inside and are actively forbidden from approaching unless they are a very high rank?

Off the top of my head some of the Havens that come to mind is the one in the middle of Malmalam thicket, the top of an active volcano, multiple spots in the middle of the voretooth and coeurl infested desert, two up in Vesperpool aka the home of all demon crocodiles and flocks of cockatrice that are bigger than the average car and can literally turn you into stone if you aren’t careful.

Yeah those places. She maintains those. Depending on how often Havens need to be maintained and if the weather/nature shortens that time then she might also have to periodically enter the dungeons Noctis explores in game that also have Havens hidden inside where it is always dark all the time and infested with daemons.

The book also states that the sick (who are highly infectious and not supposed to be touched by people who can’t heal the scourge and in the later stages of sickness become extremely violent and prone to biting in order to infect other people) are … brought to her…

By whom? Exactly?

Moving on from that giant and obvious plot hole to the “never seen or considered other lifestyles” bit: Luna has traveled literally all over the world. In her duties of healing the otherwise incurable she has gone all over Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Lucis. She has walked through the streets of cities filled with lights and glamor and stood on the dirt roads of towns so small they have to go to the next town an hour or more away to buy groceries or check their mailbox and who’s royal hotel suite is just a caravan with a new coat of paint and “welcome Oracle!” sign. Luna’s work is to cure the Starscourge, which is a disease that I can almost promise the rich don’t get. Because the rich and fancy do not risk their lives by going into daemon territory (Prompto, a middle class Insomnian, didn’t even know what wild animals would be like, you expect the rich and famous to be any better?).

The vast majority of Luna’s patients would be people like Dave the Hunter, or Sania the scientist who wades into the wilds. The truck drivers and the farmers and the electricians risking their lives to repair power lines in the middle of nowhere. She wouldn’t be going to cities except to talk to the refugees who fled there from the outside and thus picked up the Scourge. Her only two social circles would be Niflheim’s cutthroat nobility and the “unwashed masses” who come to her for healing. Guess which ones she’ll be more invested in getting to know on a personal/friendly basis and interacting with.

Of course Luna has interacted with and understands “common folk”. Luna is a caregiver, not just physically, but emotionally. She is beloved by the people because she is kind. That means she talks to them. More importantly, she listens. She has held the hands of the farmer as he begs her to heal him, because the harvest season is so close, and if he can’t work, if he dies, then what will become of his wife or the people his farm feeds? She has embraced the sobbing refugee mother as the other breaks down in gratitude for a child who’s skin is a healthy shade and who’s veins no longer bulge a sickly purple. She has met people who are not rich, but who are content. Who have lives that do not hinge on the razor thin dance of staying true to self and not exposing weakness to those who want to eat her alive. Who can laugh with their neighbors and kiss that nice boy down the street just for the fun of it, who can defy curfew to dance in the rain with the person they love and risk, at most, a lecture and a weekend grounding.

And no, they aren’t rich, no, they aren’t influential or powerful, but they are peaceful. They are happy.

Am I really expected to believe that Luna has not looked on these people’s lives from afar, listened to their rambles as they try to distract themselves from the sickness she is drawing from their veins, and not yearned to be the same? That she hasn’t thought over and over again about running away and being free from her gilded cage? That she doesn’t know anything about the lives of the people she heals even as she walks down their streets and steps into their houses so she can heal those who are too sick or too violent to be safely taken out of their room? That she has never thought about what life could be like if she wasn’t an Oracle as she watches the landscape roll by and walks through the wilderness to find the lonely farmsteads that the townsfolk tell her has sick children that cannot be let out of the shed for fear they will bite?

Setting all of that to one side, what human hasn’t thought of being someone else? What person on this planet, hasn’t looked at another person’s life that is so very different from their own and gone “huh, I wonder what that would be like” even if only for a moment before moving on and forgetting about it? Humans are creatures that dream by nature, that are curious by nature. To assume that Luna is not just because she gets to have the fancy dresses and servants is stupid.

…

3a: Luna is unable to make her own decisions and is only the dutiful Oracle because she doesn’t know any better and needs a “wiser” rebellious character to “open her eyes”.

Okay buckle up. I have tried to suppress the salt until now but over these last two points I don’t care. I will be salty. I will be sarcastic. I will be mean. I will reference Real World faiths (tho I’ll try to keep that to a minimum).

Both 3a and 3b are actually systemic issues in storytelling (particularly noticeable in movies/shows but maybe that’s because I’m pretty lucky with my book choices) that I despise with a passion. Specifically 3a relates to the chronic issue writers seem to have with characters not being allowed to be happy with their role in life. There’s this persistent thought, this narrative push, that if a character is following in the footsteps of their family, is entering the “traditional” profession that their parents (or grandparents, or entire generations of predecessors) have been in before them then they must be unhappy with their lot in life. That this is clearly the character being “repressed” and that if they are content then they are either a bad guy (see: every antagonist from a proud military family or every ruler who thinks they are better than everyone because of bloodline ever) or they are just blind to their own unhappiness.

Now, the basic idea of “character discovers they are unhappy in current role and seeks a new one” can actually be done really well. But those stories that do it well have a lot of internal conflict, a lot of self-reflection and searching and choosing to take a new path after really giving it some thought. Maybe they have help along the way, or encouragement, or another character to show that it’s possible by example and that’s okay.

What is not okay is infantilizing a strong, intelligent character by saying “oh it just never occurred to them until they are told that they are unhappy by this much more worldly wise character and then they went and did it”. That is not okay. It not only trivializes the efforts of every real person who has proudly followed in a parent’s footsteps to become something (a doctor, a missionary, a soldier, an actor, even an electrician, pick a life goal and I promise someone has been inspired to do that by their parent being one before them) but it also takes an otherwise strong, dedicated character and implies that they are too stupid to think for themselves or have any free will until the plot and a Shinier Character demands it.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is an Oracle, as her mother was before her, and her mother before her, and all the way back two thousand years to the very first Oracle we see in canon. Possibly back even farther, depending on if any of Aera’s ancestors were Oracles too. That isn’t a suffocating tradition, that is a heritage, that is a culture, that is a necessary, life-saving service that canon proves literally kept the world from falling into eternal darkness (Luna was the last Oracle, the day after she dies is literally the last time we players see sunlight until the end of the game when Noctis dies to restore it). Luna is not stupid or repressed for following in those footsteps, she is breathtakingly strong for shouldering her heritage as the Last Oracle with pride even when the forces controlling every other aspect of her life want her to be ashamed of it and give it up.

The empire that took over her home when she was twelve are actively anti-magic and anti-Astral. Luna is someone who speaks to the Astrals and is born with a magic that can heal the very sickness they want to weaponize. They couldn’t outright forbid her from training to be the next Oracle because that would cause the people to riot, but they could and absolutely would try to make her give up in any way they could. They would have insulted her, demeaned her, hurt her, and imprisoned her. They wouldn’t have wanted a “real” Oracle, they would have wanted a puppet who said pretty promises and then did nothing to stop them.

It would have been so easy for Luna to go down the same path her brother did. To give in to the empire and it’s propaganda that she would have been forced to listen to every single day of her life for twelve whole years. It would have made her life so much easier to be a puppet Oracle who didn’t have to walk miles through the wilderness to maintain Havens, or defy the empire by maintaining loyalty to Lucis, or leave her manor home to heal the sick that could not come to her themselves. As a puppet Oracle she could have stayed in the Manor and only treated cases that could reach her doors and were vetted by the empire. She could have eaten the finest foods and worn the best dresses and never had to worry about a pack of hungry Voretooths or a rogue Behemoth tearing her apart. Most of all, Niflheim wouldn’t have been nearly as oppressive or violent. They would have gladly given her the illusion of freedom and control as long as she played along rather than been fully willing and prepared to run into the jungle with a suitcase just to escape as seen in the movie.

Luna was not blindly fitting into a mold and she was not and has never been incapable of making a decision. The fact that she shows up in canon as a strong, dedicated woman who is in control of her emotions and not afraid to face down a giant sea monster with the power to summon tidal waves with just her words and a glorified pointy stick proves that. The idea that she needs a “wiser” character to come alongside her and “free her” from her own duties is not only stupid, it undermines one of the key things that makes Luna such a strong character despite her relative lack of screentime.

Furthermore, canonically, one of Luna’s main reasons for sticking with her duty as Oracle isn’t because it’s tradition, it’s because of what Niflheim did. In the Kingsglaive movie, when Nyx Ulric is getting angry at Luna for doing really reckless, life-threatening things, she tells him quote:

“I do not fear death. What I fear is doing nothing and losing everything.”

That’s not a woman who is blindly following a path laid out for her. That is a woman who is desperately, furiously fighting against the people who killed her mother in front of her the best way she can: by being the Oracle they cannot stand for her to be.

But sure. Luna is only the Oracle because she doesn’t know better and it never occurred to her to be anything else until some jaded kid with a shotgun made a snide comment about it.

3b: Luna’s faith is a character flaw that has only survived this long because it wasn’t challenged by a worldly wise character who knows better.

Not going to lie but words cannot express how much I hate this trope. This is another thing that shows up a lot in television/movies but also in books too, and that is that a character is not allowed to have a faith in something/religion unless they are 1. Foolish, 2. Brainwashed/tricked into it, 3. A crazy fanatic, or 4. It’s a character flaw they have to overcome by becoming more jaded and atheist and hateful.

Because … that’s not how it works. There are- millions (billions) of people all over the real world who are intelligent, well educated, thoughtful, kind, and religious. And no I’m not just talking about Christianity (tho I am Christian so you can see why this trope grinds my gears so hard). There’s Hinduism, there’s Islam, there’s Buddhism, there’s Judaism, there’s so many faiths and belief systems okay. And no we don’t tend to play well with each other or accept the validity of the others but that doesn’t mean we’re fanatics or brainwashed or stupid. And no we really don’t appreciate it when media introduces a character who follows a religion (even fictional ones!) only to make them an antagonist or rip it away from them in the name of “improving their character”. Just like every other cultural group ever who really doesn’t like their heritage and culture being used as a butt of jokes or is turned into a caricature or used as the basis for the antagonist being Evil™.

But no. We can’t possibly have a character who’s faith makes them strong or gives them comfort in times of hardship unless they are deluded. We can’t possibly have a character who is both intelligent and faithful. We can’t possibly show a character who is breathtakingly courageous and selfless as well as religious unless we point at their faith and go oh look a horrible character flaw to overcome by having non-believer characters open their eyes via sarcastic commentary.

And look. Look. I am well aware that the plot of Dawn of the Future has Bahamut as the Bad Guy™. I am fully aware of that. But if you want to be purely honest and technical, that doesn’t invalidate Luna’s faith because (spoilers) the other Astrals fight Bahamut to save the world. They hear her cries and the come to fight on behalf of Lucis and Noctis and all of Eos and they kill Bahamut even when that ensures their own destruction.

But we’re not actually here to talk about whether the Astrals deserve Luna’s faith in them, we’re here to talk about why insisting Luna’s faith is, by nature of being a faith, treated like a flaw and why it is treated like something so weak it only survived to this point because Luna didn’t face anything “bad” enough to “snap her out of it”.

Spoiler alert, it’s not a flaw and it’s not weak.

Going back to something I have mentioned several times already: Niflheim is an empire run by people who actively want to kill the very beings most of the planetary population worships. The very same people in charge of Luna’s life for twelve years, starting from when she was twelve and very emotionally vulnerable and traumatized, hate the Astrals. I repeat: They hate the Astrals. They have devised weapons to try (and spectacularly fail) to kill them. Half their continent is a winter nightmare-land because they tried to kill Shiva the Glacian and she went “haha, nice try, lemme leave a fake corpse here that constantly pumps out freezing temperatures and blizzards”.

Am I seriously, honestly, supposed to believe that these people didn’t try to tear down her faith at every single opportunity? That Ravus wouldn’t have tried to bully and cajole and harass her into abandoning her faith because he knew that her faith was what kept her walking her chosen path as Oracle and that said path was destined to kill her? Am I seriously supposed to believe that Luna didn’t spend those twelve years having to sit there and bite her tongue to keep from raging at these cutthroat nobles as they gloated and sneered and spat on the names of the Astrals who gave Luna the very magic she uses to heal those in need?

Luna never needed Sol to come along and say “what have the Astrals ever done for you?” because I promise that she’s heard some variation of that exact phrase from everyone in her life. From her own brother to the Emperor himself she has heard some form of this question, this taunt. In the Kingsglaive movie, General Glauca even says something to the order of, “To what god do you pray? The gods do not listen.” Right before he kidnaps her.

Luna’s faith isn’t something blind, and it is not a flaw. It is a cornerstone of her character. Luna’s faith is a bloody, stubborn, tenacious thing that she has nurtured and shored up and been steadied by through twelve years of emotional abuse and physical imprisonment. Luna’s faith is an unshakeable thing that can only come from long nights spent crying into the silent dark of the room and asking “is this real? Am I right? Should I give up? This hurts so much, what do I do?” and finding the answer to be “yes this is real. Yes I am right. No, I won’t give up even though it kills me. Yes it hurts, but what I believe in is stronger than this pain.”

Faith is not optimism and it is not fanaticism. Optimism can be broken by hardship and fanaticism has no room for selfless kindness or acceptance of other people not being as devoted as they are. Faith is personal. Faith is a bedrock, and maybe it’s a bedrock that makes no sense to people on the outside, but it is a bedrock and it can make mountains move.

Just as Luna proves when she runs rings around an Empire to win the respect and cooperation of Titan and of Ramuh, to stand amid the rain and tell an enraged TideMother that “it is in mercy that men offer praise, and in shedding grace that the gods solicit worship” and not flinch because she knows she is right.

Luna’s faith is a fierce, scarred thing that has taken every kind of suppression and propaganda and poison the empire could throw at it and kept on going.

Furthermore. Luna’s faith is treated by Sol as something empty. Because when did the Astrals ever help her or comfort her or save her?

I can answer that. They helped her when they gave her Umbra and Pryna, who kept her company through her life and gave her a way to talk to Noctis. A way to reach out to a person who was not either imperial, warped by imperial propaganda, or too afraid to speak out against the empire for fear of dying. They comforted her when Gentiana became a second mother for Luna after the death of Queen Sylva. A physical shoulder to cry on, a sounding board to bounce fears off of, a well of advice when it was asked of her, a rock to retreat to when Ravus turned away from her and the empire continued to control as much of her life as they could.

Gentiana, who is really Shiva in disguise, has been with Luna since she was a small child.

One of the Astrals themselves has been with Luna for almost her entire life. Has guided her, has comforted her, has led her to safety as she fled Insomnia’s ruins.

Shiva had no reason to do that. The Oracles have done their duty since the time of Aera without her help or company. Shiva didn’t have to stay. She didn’t have to linger and offer comfort and become Luna’s friend. She didn’t have to listen to the last words of a scared young woman who wanted only to see her fiancé one last time and promise to carry them to Noctis in the event of her death. Shiva didn’t have to cry on behalf of Luna. Shiva didn’t have to help Luna remember what it was like to be an ordinary woman (“Yet others need not hide their grief. Is she [Luna] so different from them?”), and in fact, if Shiva had played up to most of the stereotypes, she would have done the opposite and done her hardest to suppress any part of Luna’s personality that wasn’t her Oracle duties.

But she did. Shiva was there, and she remembered. Shiva loved and we as a fandom may yell at the Astrals a lot for not doing more to take care of the Starscourge, but of all of them Shiva gave the most because she came down and she lived, and walked, and loved this Oracle, this scared child, this frightened, weary woman who couldn’t even turn to her own family for comfort. Shiva’s husband Ifrit was betrayed by humankind and yet Shiva still defended them, she kills Ifrit to protect the man (the king) that Luna loved.

And at the end of the game, in those final moments outside the Citadel, when it’s just Noctis and his Retinue against all of Ardyn’s armies of daemons, when Luna calls out to these Astrals whom she has remained faithful to her entire life, even unto her death…

They answer.

Every. Last. Astral. Who is not corrupted like Ifrit, comes down at her prayer and fights. Even Leviathan who’s only voiced lines are screaming wrath against the humanity that forgot her, even Bahamut who otherwise remains aloof in his plane of magic beyond the concerns of the mortal world. Luna calls, and they answer her.

“What have the Astrals ever done for her” indeed.

Luna’s faith is a driving force of her character, it is irrevocably intertwined with her duty, with her choices, with her desire to help people and save the world even if it costs her own life, and in the end her faith is rewarded. Not in the way we want for her, because we love the ultimate happy endings where everyone lives and nobody dies. But Final Fantasy XV was never a story about happy endings. It was a story about coming of age, and tragedy, and sacrifice. Of holding onto hope against all opposition, and of having faith that someday the dawn will return, even if bringing about that dawn requires personal sacrifice.

…

Okay this is over 5k words, I’m tired, and I’m extremely salty so I can’t really figure out how to wrap this up but there we go, my salty personal rant about why I think Dawn of the Future messed up some really critical parts of Luna’s characterization and why it’s Really Bad that they messed up those specific things.

Also I kinda despise them making Bahamut the bad guy in DotF because yes he’s a jerk and yes he really could have done the whole Prophecy thing a ton better, but in the original FFXV one of the things that made the game so heartbreakingly tragic to me is that most of the characters involved weren’t pure evil. They could be greedy, and flawed, and crazy, but in the end the source of the problem was too big to pin on one character.

Do you pin the entire thing on the god of war for his mistakes in trying to bring about peace, or the god of fire for trying to destroy humanity and no longer being there to do his job and purify the plague? Do you blame the Astrals for their hubris or humanity for theirs, because Ifrit loved humanity until they betrayed him so deeply he went mad? Do you hate Ardyn for causing the Long Night or pity him for being a victim of Somnus’s greed? Can you blame Somnus for everything even though the Scourge was going on long before him and kept spreading long after he sealed Ardyn away? The whole thing is a tragedy because at this point it’s a problem too big to fix without someone paying a price too heavy and we hate that because the characters who pay that price are the ones we grow to love over the game.

But that is an entirely different rant for an entirely different day when I am not so tired and my hands no longer hurt from writing this much in one sitting. Thank you and good night.

[pippytmi]

16 + 4 + 2 (werewolf supercorp?)

It is not uncommon for Kara to wake up in a puddle of blood.

At this point she is immune to the shock that comes with it, really. She has adapted; knows all the best tricks to get stains out of her clothes, knows all the best laundromats that don’t ask any questions. Heck, she even has Alex’s ex-girlfriend on speed dial, just in case there is a freak chance the blood Kara wakes up in might be human (it has not happened yet, knock on wood).

But there are other parts that still take some getting used to. Like, for example, the loss of memory that comes with every night of the full moon. Because yeah, she understands why she wakes up in a pool of blood. What she doesn’t understand is why this time around she wakes up in a pool of her own blood, and in so much pain that it hurts to open her eyes.

“Ow,” Kara whispers to herself, twisting onto her side with a groan. Her clothes are gone—no surprise—but even as she is laying down on the cold, rocky forest floor, the only thing she can focus on is how much her head hurts. She’s dealt with branch scratches, sore legs and arms, the occasional plethora of bug bites, but never a headache. Her one comfort is that at least she has made it into the backyard of Sam’s cabin. It takes a considerable amount of strength to push herself up off the ground; walking is going to be much harder than anticipated.

If Alex saw her now, she'd—well first she would hit Kara over the head and yell at her about being dumb, but afterwards she would snicker. And probably hit her over the head again for good measure.

“Oh my God—!”

Okay, it’s official. Kara is now dead. Even if the stranger gawking at her is not the one who kills her, Alex definitely will.

And it’s that thought that makes Kara drop right back down on the floor, knocking the wind right out of her lungs, and she groans into the dirt pitifully.

“Oh, fuck,” the stranger whispers, almost as if to herself, scrambling to come to Kara’s side. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck!” Said stranger belatedly claps a hand over her mouth, green eyes widening in horror. “Holy shit, are you alive?”

Kara pitifully rests her cheek against the ground and tries not to look too offended. “Uh, kind of,” she replies. (So this must not be Sam’s cabin, then.) “Sorry. Am I in your yard? It is a very nice yard. Five stars.”

“No, it’s not my—I’m house-sitting,” the woman explains, though she is giving Kara a look that says really? That’s what you want to focus on right now?

“Well, it’s still a nice place,” Kara says, because she is polite and small talk is always a good thing to fall back on when you’re naked on a pile of dead leaves. “Wait, I don’t suppose you’re house-sitting for Sam, are you? Sam Arias, super tall, has a daughter who is freakishly good at checkers?”

Stranger-who-swears-like-a-sailor frowns. “How do you know Sam?” she asks suspiciously.

“She dated my sister. It was a whole—it’s a thing,” Kara says. “You know?”

“Wait. Are you Kara? Are you Alex’s sister?”

“Yes! So you do know!” Kara would grin if her face were capable of any emotion besides mind-shattering pain. “Then you must be Sam’s friend…uh, bear with me…Lena? Or Jess?”

“Lena,” says the woman, still notably wary, so Kara makes the decision to wiggle until she can prop herself up her elbows and look less, well, like a corpse.

“Hey, got it in one!” Kara says as cheerfully as she can muster. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. And can I just—uh, say—that you don’t have to worry. I won’t die here or anything. I know you would obviously be the number one suspect for murder and it wouldn’t be nice of me to put you through that.”

“…right. Never mind that you would be dead, or anything.” Lena begins to shakily unbutton her coat like a woman possessed, as if her doubt has morphed entirely into concern now that she has confirmation the freak naked in Sam’s backyard is not an entire stranger. “Here, this is long enough to cover you. Do you—do you need help getting up?”

“No, no, I’ve got it, thank you,” Kara insists, and gradually, she manages; she shifts sideways and then tentatively onto her butt, and accepts the coat when it’s all but thrown at her face. There is blood mixed in with the leaves and general guck beneath her, and she winces at the sight. “I’ll come back and clean this later,” she’s quick to add, and Lena frowns in response.

“Are you serious? Forget cleaning, you need—stitches, at the very least. I can take you to the hospital if—”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Kara blurts out, and with the adrenaline from that burst of energy she’s able to scramble to her feet. She is shaky, unsteady, but she manages to stay upright at least and she’ll count that as a win. “Shoot. I’m sorry for yelling. I just—no hospitals. I can’t do hospitals.” She has never had to form an excuse for this, and her mouth can’t quite wrap around the right words.

But Lena—green eyes wide and unsure, skin pale in the early morning light—nods, like she understands. “Okay,” she says. “No hospitals.”

“Thanks,” Kara mumbles, wrapping the coat tightly around herself. There are startling black spots in her vision and her head still feels like it was used as a piñata; she wonders what the heck her next move should be now. If Sam needs someone to house-sit, she must be out of the city. And if Sam is out of the city, Kara can’t exactly waltz into Sam’s house to wash all the blood off her body (and then call up Alex from the couch while stealing whatever ice cream Ruby picked). Sam lets her do that, sure, but that’s Sam. It would be pretty rude to do that when Lena is right here.

“Do you…” And Lena pauses, nose scrunching up as if something has just occurred to her. “I can give you a ride somewhere else, if you’d like. Back to your house?”

“No, that’s okay,” Kara hurries to decline, because how can she really explain that she lives in an apartment, and that if little old Mrs. Jensen saw her coming up covered in blood she’d finally succumb to her third heart attack? “Can I just use Sam’s phone to call my sister? Then I’ll come right back out here, I promise.”

“Why would you come back out here again?” Underneath her coat, Lena is wearing plaid pajama pants that are rolled at the ankle (Sam’s, most likely), and a tank top that is extremely fitted. Very, very well fitted. Like, you-can-tell-it’s-frigidly-cold-outside-kind-of-fitted.

Kara coughs and tries not to let on how her train of thought has twisted. “Because…I’m a stranger?” she tries. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Remember, if you die I’m going to be the first one they question,” Lena says, tilting her head expectantly in the direction of Sam’s cabin. “Come inside, warm up. Call your sister.” All things considered, she is far more concerned than Kara expected her to be—as if, somehow, ridding herself of the weirdo walking around bloody and probably concussed isn’t the very first thing on Lena’s mind.

So Kara doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth; she accepts the offer. It’s a small comfort that if she really does get murdered by a total stranger, it won’t be while cold and naked.

Lena goes right into Sam’s room the instant they go inside, already gathering a million outfits for Kara to pick through. “The shower is fickle, but it does have hot water,” she says, adding a towel to the pile in Kara’s arms when she re-emerges. “You just have to—”

“Hit the wall twice, and give it a few seconds,” Kara finishes. “Yeah, Sam reminds me every time.”

“So you…visit Sam often, do you?”

“Uh.” And suddenly, despite the long, cold night she’s had, the air indoors feels a bit warmer than is comfortable. “Only sometimes.” Once a month, Kara thinks, and Lena crosses her arms and just stares.

Really stares, dragging those sharp green eyes up and down Kara’s whole body. Squints at the scratches on her face, scrunches her nose at the way Kara awkwardly shifts from side to side. Finally Lena speaks, and it’s only to say, “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“...come again?”

“It’s you. Sam told me she’s been helping out a friend with a—furry predicament—”

If it were possible to choke on air, Kara would be dead right now. “Did she really call it furry? But she’s also—!” She has to pause, now, because she feels an urge to clarify, “Wait. Are we talking about the same thing right now?”

Lena narrows her eyes slightly. “You mean talking about how you’re a werewolf?”

“Oh!” Head lighter, Kara sucks in a laugh that makes her ribs feel like they are splintering open. “Then yes. That’s good, I didn’t want you to think I was a—anyway. I didn’t think Sam told anyone.”

“Sam and I have been friends for a long time,” Lena says slowly. A beat. “She actually ate my hamster once.”

Kara winces. “Recently?”

“No! Back in the fifth grade,” Lena frowns, like she might’ve added dumbass at the end of the sentence. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t own hamsters.”

“What? Come on, having pets isn’t just a kid thing,” Kara says. “I used to have a cat, but he…”

“Oh my God, you ate him?”

Kara’s jaw drops. “What—no! He turned out to already have an owner, so she took him back. He just liked to wander into my apartment.” She hugs the clothing pile tighter to her chest, and tries her hardest to scowl. “I’m responsible, okay? Most of the time. I’m not dangerous.”

“Except to deer, or rabbits, or whatever else you killed last night?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, but surprisingly not in a manner that’s judge-y. Just…curious.

“Right,” Kara says defeatedly, and her head throbs enough that her grip on Sam’s clothes begins to falter. “Sorry. I wasn't trying to be defensive or anything.”

“That's alright.” And stranger still, Lena reaches out to gently touch the side of Kara’s head. “So does the same thing happen to you?”

“Huh?” The proximity has scrambled Kara’s brain momentarily, and she finds herself unthinkingly holding her breath.

“Do you also black out,” Lena clarifies. “Like Sam does, every time she shifts.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s—a universal wolf thing,” Kara says.

Lena hums, and her hand retracts. “And are you a serial killer in wolf form?”

“Uh, I hope not? I’m pretty sure all this is…” Kara gestures over her body with one hand, still hugging the pile of clothes with the other. “Not human.”

“Okay.” Lena casually walks away, but pauses to throw over her shoulder, “I’ll help you clean up your head once you’re out of the shower. I’ve helped Sam a hundred times.”

“Are you—do you have some kind of healing magic, or—”

“Close. I’m an ER nurse,” Lena says amusedly, and when she smiles a dimple emerges on one cheek. “All the witches I know have fled the city, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“You joke, but Alex dated this witch once, and she hexed my sister to spill her first sip of coffee every time she went to take a drink for three weeks straight after they broke up,” Kara says, and Lena again scrunches her nose in that quizzical way.

“Seriously? Witches are real too?”

“Duh,” Kara says lightly. “What, you thought it stopped at werewolves? Please. I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down is a gorgon.”

“Well, it would explain her fondness of statues,” Lena says, strangely nonplussed. “I’ve never asked, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at this point. How do you take your coffee?” As she asks, Lena deposits a few fingers of whiskey into a mug, and at Kara’s questioning look says, “Sorry, we’re all out of painkillers. This is as good as you’re going to get.”

“Maybe I’ll do better if it’s straight,” Kara says, unable to hide her grimace, while Lena shrugs a shoulder as if to say it’s your funeral.

So after Kara showers, she sits on the couch and sips gross whiskey out of a chipped mug that reads World’s Best Mom in bright pink letters. Lena has turned on the TV to the local news station—clearly she has stayed with Sam before—and a man on screen is recounting a tale of how he hit a giant wolf strolling too close to his farm with a baseball bat.

“If I had my shotgun I would’ve killed the fucker,” he swears, red in the face, and above her Lena gives a little scoff.

“What a dick,” Lena says, her hand steadily stitching up the wound on Kara’s scalp, and her voice has a hint of an accent; it’s really cute, actually, and Kara doesn’t even mind that the next poke of the needle is sharper than the others.

It is the strangest morning Kara has ever had. Drinking whiskey before eight in the morning, with a kind stranger who she’s barely met but is suturing her skin together, who smells faintly of lavender soap and strong black coffee.

“—National City is not safe when wolves are wandering close to homes—”

The scent of rich hot chocolate bubbling on the stove is beginning to fill the room, the ancient pipes are rumbling throughout the walls, and Lena’s fingers are soft against her head. Kara closes her eyes and decides that she will wait a little longer before she calls Alex to pick her up.

[mara-xx217]

Pokes head

May I request Michael being a possessive daddy and fighting a killer who hurt his girlfriend ? It can be anyway you like 💙

Why of course you can~ This isn’t based in Dbd, but the normal world. Hope you don’t mind!

Possessive, Protective Mikey

You were like some sort of disease to Michael. Or, perhaps, a parasite was a better descriptor of how you affected him. You wormed your way into him, deep into his chest, right beside his cold, soulless heart. You made him… feel, regardless of what that actually meant, it was beyond unacceptable in his eyes. That warm, painful throbbing in his chest was more than distracting, it was nauseating, disturbing. Terrifying… In a sick, twisted, wrong way, you terrified the Shape of Haddonfield. Michael fucking Myers was absolutely terrified of a small, defenseless creature that was completely helpless against the evil and cruelty he wielded against the world. He should kill you a hundred thousand times over for this transgression! But… it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He only… feels more empty every time your cheeks are stained with tears. Cold. Dead. Michael would feel dead without you…

This isn’t the first time he’s caught someone hurting you. It’s happened many, many times over, and his reaction has ranged from blinded rage to searing hatred. Not just for the one harming you, but towards you, yourself. It was that lack of control that drove Michael insane. He couldn’t watch you 24/7, couldn’t always follow you around or know where you were at any given moment… It drove him fucking crazy, and he took that frustration out on not just the asshole unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with you, but onto you, as well.

But, even that was quickly losing its luster to him. Michael had thought that hurting you would bring him some sort of fulfillment, like it has always done in the past when he had hurt others. It never has, though. Sure, he’s lied to himself, trying desperately to convince himself that seeing you all small, all scared and teary-eyed brought him a measure of enjoyment, to have your blood on his hands, to have you groveling in terror before him- but it didn’t. It- He- Michael felt… not good, when that happened. You made him… stop to consider how his actions would affect you, and he hated that.

Michael despises that you’re a magnet for trouble. That you just can’t seem to stay the hell away from people that want to do you harm. Sure, he doesn’t mind killing them. Quite the opposite, in fact, he rather enjoys seeing them covered in their own blood, begging for their pathetic lives before he mercilessly snuffs them out. No, Michael hates that you get hurt in the first place. The only one that should ever have the right to put their hands on you was him! Him, and him alone. Anyone else would be destroyed.

Some wannabe serial killer punk had set his eyes on you. Luckily for you, Michael knew better than to leave you to your own devices, anymore. He caught the little bastard scoping out your home before you had any idea of the danger you were in. He’d make sure that, this time, he’d be in complete control of the situation. You won’t be hurt, but that idiot thinking that he can do as he pleases? He’s going to regret the day he was born…

Sitting in your kitchen, you drank what must be your fifth coffee of the night. Strange things were happening, and it left you unable and unwilling to sleep at night. Rustling outside your windows, the sound of someone possibly jimmying your doors and windows, looking for a possible way in… Muddy footprints on your porch and small, dead animals left on your door mat… It was becoming too much. You’re… pretty sure it wasn’t Michael. He did love to torment you, but this wasn't really his thing. He was much more… direct, with his approach to you. This… this was someone else…

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you rub your eyes, feeling them water involuntarily from how dry they were. Anxiously, you tap your fingers on the top of the counter, before sighing heavily and grabbing your coffee mug. You decided to make your way to the living room, thinking that some TV would help calm your nerves and get your mind off of things. Fuck, I’m exhausted… You thought bitterly as you crashed onto the couch, nearly spilling lukewarm coffee all over yourself.

Picking up the remote, you absentmindedly flipped through channels, not really wanting to watch anything. It was just something else to focus on, rather than the impending sense of dread that was washing over you. This feeling was one that you were well acquainted with: the feeling of being watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were slick with sweat. Slowly, you sit up, clumsily placing your mug on the table in front of you. The hairs on your entire body stood on end. Something’s not right here…

As you begin to rise off the couch, a firm hand pushes you back down into a sitting position. Your heart jumped up into your throat. You’re very familiar with Michael’s hands, and the one still gripping your shoulder was much, much smaller than his… Short, shaky breaths escaped through your clenched teeth. Fuck..! Oh shit- Oh my God no no no-! You don’t dare to move, only stare straight ahead at nothing as your mind runs wild with possibilities. Who the hell is it?! How did they get in?! Why me?! Where the fuck is Michael when I fucking need him?!?

The intruder sucks in a deep breath, as though he’s about to say something, but instead yelps in surprise as he’s ripped away from you suddenly and violently. You gasp, shooting up and scrambling across the room, back peddling into an opposing corner. Curling in on yourself, you crumple onto the floor, watching the brutality unfolding before you through the cracks of your fingers.

Michael had thrown the intruder back, sending him crashing into a mostly bare bookshelf, breaking most of the shelves along with it. You cringe and jump, feeling your insides twist and revolt against you. Michael drops to the floor, straddling the winded, smaller man as he desperately tries to fight back. Vainly. It was laughable, really. The idiot didn’t stand a chance against the human incarnation of evil, itself.

Michael briefly debated on playing with his food. There was something about seeing them crawl and beg that really set him off, but when he glanced at you over his shoulder, in the fetal position and hyperventilating, he actually decided against it. It was getting under his skin seeing you like this, and the quicker this is… inconvenience is dealt with, the quicker things will be back to normal. Well, to Michael’s fucked up definition of the word “normal”, that is.

With a quick stab to the back of his neck, the intruder was killed. Normally, Michael would have painted the walls with this creep’s blood, but he decided that it would be too much of a pain in the ass to clean up. With a flick of his wrist, Michael twists and pulls out the blade, wiping the excess blood onto the back of his victim’s shirt. He looks back over to you, and sees you stiffen. His… Huh. His chest actually hurts…

With a heavy sigh, he stands, stepping over the dead body as he makes his way over to you. A major part of you was beyond terrified. Is he gonna hurt me..? Oh- Oh God..! I’m gonna- I’m- I’m gonna..! You were trembling, shaking so hard that your teeth were actually chattering audibly. Michael’s eye twitched. He was conflicted: one part of him loved that you were this scared of him, as you should be, but the other… the other hated it. He- Well, he wanted… something, but he just didn’t know what. Fingers twitching, he reached out to you, struggling to ignore how you froze as he slowly approached you.

You really thought that he was going to grab you by the hair and drag you off to the bedroom, so when his fingertips just barely brushed the top of your head, moving the hair from your face, you were, well… at a bit of a loss. Michael has never, ever been that gentle while touching you. Ever. You raise your head slightly, just enough so that you could see him. He still had that damn mask on, of course, and his body language hardly betrayed what he was thinking or feeling, but- You couldn’t deny that his fingers were trembling ever so slightly.

He slowly crouches in front of you, treating you as though you're some kind of animal that will either bolt at the slightest movement or go for his jugular, or something like that. You don’t move or speak, unsure of what he was doing. When he placed his hand where that stalker touched you, gently- carefully squeezing your shoulder as though you were made of glass, you… you relaxed.

You could tell that he was struggling to be gentle, with how his fingers twitched uncontrollably and the pressure of his fingertips varied. You looked up to him, then down at his chest as an odd warmth spread through your cheeks. Michael was extremely possessive over you. He hated it when you interacted with anyone else, especially other men. But, right now, even though another man had touched you, he wasn’t flying off the handle like he usually did. He was still extraordinarily pissed off that he had given the bastard just enough time to physically touch you, but it was remedied.

He was fucking dead, and you were still here. You were his and his alone. That wasn’t called into question. There was no dispute. Michael Myers is the only person that is ever allowed to touch you. You’ve come to accept this, and slowly but surely, you’re even beginning to enjoy his touch. As sick and messed up as it was, you’ve started to develop feelings for him, despite the fact that he made your life a living hell. If anything, you knew that no one would hurt you ever again. No one, except for him.

[inmegsmind]

‘Falling’ - Regulus Black x Original Female Character (Part 7)

Description: Sometimes the most unexpected friendships become the ones that mean the most. This was true for Lilia Arianwen Llewellyn and Regulus Black. A pureblood Slytherin from a noble family and a half-blood Gryffindor who’s wizard father fell for a muggle. After maintaining a secret friendship from their third year which began to fade at the end of their fifth year, the pairs return to Hogwarts for their penultimate year will change their lives forever.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of jealousy, the lightest lightest smutty make out ever (16+ as nothing graphic at all and basically just a make out)

-

The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived which I was happy about as I hated getting there early and having to wait for things to liven up. I was already feeling slightly tipsy from the drink we’d consumed before leaving our dormitory and thanked myself for not wearing any heeled type shoes.

‘Drink?’ Mollie shouted over the music and we all agreed, making our way over to the drinks table. As we got closer we all realised exactly why Mollie wanted a drink straight away, Sirius was there. ‘Ahhh heres my girls’ he greeted wrapping an arm around Mollies waist as we all said our hellos. I reached onto the table pouring myself a large measure of fire whiskey as Ruby followed suit. Turning back to the girls we were greeted with the sight of Mollie and Sirius making out and Clara blushing as she flirted with Remus. ‘And then there were two’ Ruby muttered to me as we cheered out cups together.

I leant my back onto the table eyes scanning the room in front of me. Whichever house had taken on decorating had done a really good job. Once I’d taken in the room as a whole I decided to see if I recognised anyone in the crowds. I noticed Lily, Marlene and Dorcas enjoying themselves in the dance floor area and also noticed Alice and Frank cuddled up on a sofa looking smitten with each other. I was snapped out of my investigation when I heard Ruby harshly whisper ‘what the fuck’. Following her gaze my heart sunk at what she was staring at. Regulus and his Slytherin friends had set up on a sofa in the far corner of the room and he had none other than Penelope Parkinson sat on his lap whispering in his ear. I turned back to Ruby keen to not get caught staring, jealousy clearly plastered all over my face. ‘Don’t worry about her, she’s probably thrown herself at him, he doesn’t even look interested’ Ruby affirmed in an attempt to cheer me up but I wasn’t going to let that ruin my night even if it made me rage with seethe with jealousy. ‘Who said I’m worried?’ I breezily replied, giving a shrug of my shoulder before downing the contents of my cup. Being the good friend that she was Ruby joined me on this, reaching over to pour us another. I turned back to Clara and Mollie who were now deep in conversation with Remus and Sirius. ‘We’re going to dance, you coming or staying with your boyfriends all night?’ I teased the two causing them both to blush and the boys to chuckle. ‘Coming, obviously’ Mollie stated before giving Sirius a lingering kiss and dragging Clara from Remus.

‘You go first, I’ll see if Regulus notices you’ Ruby whispered in my ear whilst handing me my drink and I smiled gratefully at her. Flicking my hair behind my shoulders I followed Mollie and Clara through the crowd, extending my hand to Ruby so we didn’t get separated. We merged with Lily, Marlene and Dorcas who were way past the point of being tipsy. ‘Oh he’s looking, put on a show girl’ Ruby whispered into my ear, giving my arse a smack to which I threw my head back in laughter. ‘Ohhh Lils you look so beautiful’ Marlene complimented leaning forward to give me a peck on the lips which I gladly returned before gushing back ‘as do you miss Mckinnon’ before she spun me under her arm ballroom style. As I spun around I was able to sneak a peak at Regulus, his eyes glued to me and an annoyed looking Parkinson still sat on his lap.

-

After what felt like hours of drinking, dancing and laughing I felt an extreme craving for nicotine. It was definitely not healthy at my age to feel that. I ran a hand through my hair and looked over my shoulder towards the exit, making sure to scan over where Regulus and his group remained sat. The Slytherins were so boring, they’d remained in the same spot since we’d arrived, only ever moving to get a drink. So much for celebrating a win, I thought to myself. 

Turning my head back I noticed Regulus’ eyes were still glued to me despite whatever Parkinson was whispering in his ear and I gave a little smirk. ‘I’m going to go for a smoke’ I informed an extremely tipsy Ruby and she quickly responded ‘want me to come with?’ and I politely declined after thanking her. None of the girls smoked so I wouldn’t drag them away from a party to accompany me. I also sort of hoped that if I left alone Regulus would follow and Ruby picked up on this as she glanced behind me and said ‘ohhh I see, be safe’ and I giggled. Making a sneaky exit from the group in case anyone actually wanted to join me, I headed towards the exit making sure not to even glance at Regulus the whole way, despite feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

-

My drunken legs had carried me farely quickly and without detection to the Astronomy tower. Rummaging in my bag I retrieved the cigarettes and my wand before proceeding to light one. Basically moaning as I took my first drag I leant onto the railing of the tower looking out at the beautiful view. Behind me I heard the familiar foot steps and I had to do my absolute best to hide the smirk on my face, which was extremely hard to do when tipsy. Turning slowly I managed to catch Regulus looking me up and down and this mixed with the alcohol in my system surged my confidence.

‘Following me?’ I asked innocently whilst taking a drag of the cigarette. I watched as his eyes followed lingering on my lips before responding. ‘Just making sure you don’t end up drunkenly falling off the tower’ He responded smoothly before taking a few more steps towards me, holding his hand out to indicate he wanted a cigarette. Tossing the packet to him I fake swooned replying ‘my knight in shining armour’ and he let out a small giggle as I proceeded to use my wand to light his cigarette, not taking my eyes off him the entire time.

As he lifted his head and took a drag I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander, taking in how good he actually looked. Once I’d finished I looked back to his face to see him wearing a cocky smirk, fuck I’d been caught. ‘Move back from the edge you’re making me nervous’ which made me laugh but nevertheless I listened and took a few steps around to the back of the tower where there was no gaps. ‘I’m not that drunk don’t worry’ I argued back and it was his turn to laugh this time. ‘Yeah right, I’ve seen how much you’ve drank’ Regulus responded before the two of us took another drag of our cigarettes. ‘Watching me was you?’ I teased not being able to wipe the smirk off my face as I took a step closer to him and he let out a low laugh. ‘Hard not too when you look like that’ He honestly admitted and I felt my cheeks heat up at the rare compliment from Regulus. However, I made sure my confident exterior remained. ‘A compliment from Regulus Black’ I faked shock raising a hand to my chest, revelling as I watched his eyes trail down to where it rested just above my breast and back up to my face as I stood with a raised eyebrow.

 ‘You are insatiable’ His voice came out as a rough whisper as he took a step closer, trapping me against the wall behind me and I felt my breath hitch slightly in my throat. ‘So I’ve been told’ I whispered back making sure to give him my best doe eyes as he peered down at me. Feeling confident under his gaze I slowly let my tongue lick over my lips as I stubbed out my cigarette on the floor and discarded it. His eyes darted between my lips and my eyes multiple times before he shook his head with a chuckle. Once he’d lifted his head he began to gaze at me again, letting his eyes linger over my entire appearance before whispering ‘you look really pretty tonight Lilia’. I didn’t even care if he could see how much I was blushing, a compliment from Regulus was rare so to get two in one night made me feel like I was on cloud 9. ‘You look really handsome too Regulus’ I began before leaning up on my tip toes to whisper in his ear ‘much better with Parkinson off your lap’ which he let out a loud chuckle at. I didn’t know what had come over the pair of us tonight. Whether it was his quidditch win, the alcohol in our systems, the weeks of pent up tension or my years of hidden feelings, but I was loving every second.

‘Awee princess, were you jealous?’ He mocked and I rolled my eyes coming back from my tip toes and leaning my head against the wall. If anyone else had called me princess I think I would have cringed but coming from Regulus his words went straight through my head and down to my core. I looked up into his eyes before responding ‘you wish’ my voice a soft seductive whisper. Regulus hummed a response before placing his arms on the wall either side of my head and began leaning in. I felt my heart skip a beat as I watched his eyes flutter shut and his face come closer. Following suit I let my eyes slowly close as I waited to feel his lips on mine.

His lips were much softer that I had ever imagined. Slowly and softly brushing against mind, testing to see if I would pull away but when I slightly leant my head forward in hope of more contact he accepted. Our lips slowly moulded together finding a rhythm as my hands left my side to grip onto his shirt. His left hand dropped to cup my face as his other arm remained cemented against the wall. His thumb caressed my cheek as I pulled him in closer by his top before I snaked my arms up around the back of his neck. Regulus removed his hand from my check and lowered it down to grab onto my waist, dropping it ever so slightly to squeeze my bum. The squeeze forced a gasp out of my mouth and he sneakily used this to slip his tongue against mine. The taste of the cigarette and alcohol on his tongue making the kiss all that more intoxicating. Regulus pressed his body closer against mine ridding us of any space between us. I moaned into his mouth as I felt his thigh slip between my legs and press up against me.

Taking his hand from its place on wall it joined his other and grabbed the other side of my bum, hoisting me up in the process. I was now pressed against the wall with my legs wrapped around him and his one thigh pushing up into my core. I moaned into the kiss again as I tugged on the curls located on the nape of his neck. This elicited a groan from Regulus and I smirked, deepening the kiss.

Out of nowhere came a massive bang which scared the life out of the both of us and caused us to spring apart. My head slammed back into the wall and I let out a hiss rubbing my hand against it. I looked up at Regulus who was stood as out of breath as me, lips plump and hair messy. I searched his face hoping to discover what he was thinking but was left with nothing. ‘uhh I uhh best go before anyone comes looking’ he stuttered out before speeding off without giving me a chance to respond leaving me alone, confused and gobsmacked. Yet again.

(tag list - @i-padfootblack-things) 

[bookshelfdreams]

since stede has a daughter, i bet he has learned how to braid hair. just saying... new hairstyle potential for the fearsome captain blackbeard. a long flowy braid that his boyfriend did, with some flowers thrown in for good measure. or, edward falls asleep first and stede puts tiny braids in his hair while he sleeps because he's not tired yet, and the next day ed wears them until they fall out by themselves

oh god anon my greatest wish for s2 is ed with braids, how did you know that

(also like. gentle correction. stede's plaiting skills did indeed come in handy when he ended up having a daughter but he already knew how to do that because of all the flower crowns he made as a kid thank you)

___

Ed curses under his breath as the comb catches in the tangle of his hair for the fifth time in half a fucking minute.

"Let me", Stede says and doesn't even wait for an answer before he gently takes the comb from Ed's hand and beckons him to sit.

Ed does. He is acutely, painfully aware that he would do anything for Stede if he asked; would kill for him. Would die for him. Would torch a hundred cities, suffer any torture, just for a chance to see Stede smile.

And if Stede wants him to hold still while he deals with the mess of Ed's hair, he will do that too.

Stede starts at the bottom, carefully combing out the tips and holds firmly the strands he's working on so he doesn't pull on the roots. He is so damn gentle about it, going slow but steady, undoing the knots and tangles with his fingers first, then using the comb. Strand by strand he goes through it, until the comb runs smoothly from Ed's scalp to the very tips of his hair without catching once.

But Stede is not done. Now he's rubbing something on his palms that smells sweet and a little tart, some sort of oil maybe. It's the same stuff he uses himself, Ed recognizes the smell, and he runs his hands through the full length of the hair. Maybe he's being a little more thorough than he needs to be but Ed would rather cut out his own tongue with a melon spoon than say anything about it.

And there's never been room for forgiveness in Ed's life. If someone wrongs you, you reciprocate quickly and without mercy. If someone hurts you, you break their neck, all pain you feel you pay the world back a hundred times over. To forgive is to be weak, and what is weak will be crushed.

But this. Sitting there, in the quiet and gentle light of the cabin, no noise but the waves and Stede's soft absent-minded humming, this is what it means to forgive and be forgiven. This is the value of it: Stede's hands in his hair, the gentle tugging as he starts to plait, the purple ribbon he holds up for Ed's inspection.

Ed wants the moment to go on forever, but all too soon Stede ties a neat little bow.

"There", he says, with a self-conscious little chuckle. "Thank you for indulging me."

Ed reaches up and gingerly touches his own head, feeling the intricate pattern of Stede's work, the silk twisted among the strands.

"I can take it out again, if you want", Stede says and Ed just leans his head back until it rests against Stede's chest.

"No", Ed whispers. He doesn't quite trust his voice not to break. "No, don't."

[sugaxjpg]

infamous; m

⤷  You would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with Local Fuckboy, Kim Taehyung. It was an ego thing. 

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & SecretRelationship!AU

✓ Filed under: smut 

✓ Look out for: bathroom sex, breast play, oral (male receiving) + deepthroat, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (use condoms or i’ll kill u!!!), mirrors,switch!tae and switch!reader, taehyung being lowkey a prick but we’re all in for it 

✓ Words: 12,508

Author’s Note: Of course my year-long hiatus would end with a smut. What else can I say? I can hear the clown music from here. 

“Like, can you actually believe that? He ghosted me for three weeks, then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic.” She sighed, taking a slip from her neon green drink. You didn’t know how Hyejin could ingest something that resembled toxic waste and make it seem like it actually brought her some sort of comfort. “You know what? I’m done with men. All of them. We really are living in the medieval ti— Are you even listening to me?” 

You blinked twice, taken off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. Truth was, you were only half present, the other half of you scrutinizing the living room, trying to find a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“Yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologized, leaning your side against the wall. Behind Hyejin, two guys started yelling about something related to Harry Potter and you couldn’t care less. “I was somewhere else for a second, but I’m here now. You were saying that he ghosted you?”

“Yeah, like an absolute idiot.” She rolled her eyes, gesticulating aggressively. You nervously watched the movements of the radioactive cup, worried that it would splash all over your clothes. You really should’ve thought twice before combining a white blouse with your black skirt — that was a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I’m never talking to him again. Or any man.”

“Hm,” you hummed, crossing your arms. You didn’t know who she was trying to convince, that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). “Who’s that again? Hoseok?” 

“The one and only,” she agreed, glimpsing at her side as if someone could even hear you two amongst the loud reverberation of the music. “Really, I don’t know how those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. They’re a hazard, all seven of them. A threat to public health.”

You shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, they pay their tuition and do well in class. That’s as far as the college cares.” 

She groaned. “I guess.” Another slip. A pause. Another one. Yep, you were designated driver for the night. “Could be worse, though, I could be one of the poor chicks that Taehyung fucks in his spare time.” 

Oh. 

You giggled, nervous. “Yeah, yeah,” you agreed, looking back at the mass of students. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

She hummed in concordance, taking her cup back to her lips. The two guys behind her decided to quit the arguments and moved away from the two of you, making you follow their figures as they dissipated amongst the crowd. You didn’t know how college parties managed to squeeze so many people in one small living room, but it was one of the mysteries of life, you guessed. 

“I don’t know what’s the deal with that one,” Hyejin continued. “It’s like he has a golden dick or something.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your attention back at her. “What do you mean?” 

“Doesn’t matter, he’s a complete douche.” She moved her hand as if she was scaring away an invisible fly. “Don’t even think about him. He’s the kind that uses and discards people.”

“You think so?” You asked.

“I know so,” she said. “I couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with Taehyung, and somehow became completely whipped by the dude, only to be told that he doesn’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. Like… What the fuck is that? Who says that?”  

You laughed, noticing the tinge of red that covered her cheeks. “You sound really drunk.” 

“So?” She asked. “I’m not bullshitting you. Taehyung is a prick and that’s gospel.” She raised her cup in a silent cheer, and took another slip. “I know you’re not involved in the fuckboy phenomena that plagues this campus, and, honestly, you’re better off that way. But trust me when I say that he isn’t worth the headache.” 

With an inattentive nod, you took another peek at the strangers in the room. “I believe you, don’t worry.” 

The worst part? You did. 

Even worse? There were two things wrong with what she had told you. 

Number one: yes, Taehyung was kind of a jerk sometimes. But he wasn’t completely soulless. He was fun to be around, actually, when he wasn’t surrounded by his smooth-brained friends, or trying to impress someone into sleeping with him. Also, you were pretty sure he told at least most of those girls that he wasn’t searching for anything serious, and a one-night stand was most likely all that they would get. 

You couldn’t speak for all of them, of course, but the ones that you knew personally, at least, had mentioned something along those lines to you. He didn’t exactly lead them on, trying to break their hearts just for the sake of it. Besides, Taheyung was already kind of infamous around campus for “using and discarding” people, as Hyejin had put, so it wasn’t precisely a surprise for anyone involved. 

Number two: Taehyung fucked the same person twice, if he felt like it. And you knew that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

To your defense, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship when you first met him. In fact, you didn’t expect that you would fall victim to his charms just like everyone else, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you could hold it. And you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did. 

Truth was: Kim Taehyung was everything, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that he was attractive as hell; he knew that he had a voice so silky and deep that just saying the right words would be enough to have you in bed with him — and he knew how to use two two things very well. So, just like Eve, you followed the snake and bit the apple, and blah blah blah, eternal damnation or something like that. Big deal. 

You didn’t care much about being fuckbuddies with Taehyung, actually — he had his fun with other people in the meantime, and so did you —, but you pretty much could die at the idea that someone would find out. It was an ego thing, alright? You didn’t want people to know that you were interested in him, since you prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, and to have people think that you were wrapped around his finger (which you absolutely wasn’t!) would not be a good look for your personal brand. 

And it got more complicated than that. The thing was that Taehyung had always been one to flaunt around his trophies. It wasn’t unheard of for him to just start talking about someone that he had fucked, maybe even giving a bit more detail than anyone else involved would appreciate. You knew that it was just a matter of time before your name dropped from his lips at the wrong time, in front of his ape-brained friends, and everyone would discover that you were added to his long lists of booty calls. 

So, when you asked to keep that first night a secret, you were surprised when he quickly accepted it. 

Against all expectations, Taehyung didn’t fall into his old pattern when it came to you. He had been the one to text you first, calling you over to his place — which he made sure to be empty — and he had been the first one to suggest that you two kept meeting up after that. Now, let’s not get this mixed up: it wasn’t an undisclosed crush, it wasn’t love. It was just Taehyung fulfilling some weird-ass kink of his. He liked to have you when he wanted it, the way he wanted it, and he liked the thrill of it all being undisclosed — to him, it felt like you two were doing something wrong, which managed to turn him on even more. 

Also, you were human, alright? There was something extremely tempting about sleeping with someone as almighty as Kim Taehyung, King of Fuckboys, especially when he kept coming back to you. It’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

Again: it was an ego thing. 

Even if your pride told you otherwise, you decided, again and again, to come back to him. Late at night in your apartment, when your roommate had already gone to sleep, and he was buried deep between your legs, licking your wetness and sucking on your clit. Or maybe in the interval between your classes, when you two managed to get the locker rooms empty, and he fucked you so hard against one of the lockers that you could swear someone would come see what was going on with all that banging against the metal. 

But no, no one ever caught you. Not Hyejin or any of your other friends. As far as you were aware, Taehyung’s group didn’t know a thing either, which made you appreciate him even more. 

See? He wasn’t a total douchebag. He had the most basic sense of loyalty. 

And, yeah, you didn’t like lying to your friends, but it was a necessary measure. You were sure they would kill you if they found out about your private escapades with the Local Fuckface McGee: half out of sheer panic for your emotional well-being, and the other half out of pure jealousy. You didn’t think much about it most of the time, since you kind of understood Taehyung’s side: you simply liked the thrill, and you weren’t actually doing anything illegal. No one really had to know.

Rupturing the bubble of your nostalgia, your friend’s voice startled you back into reality. 

“Who are you looking for?” Hyejin furrowed her eyebrows, staring you down intensely. She had been your friend for three years, and you were absolutely certain she could see through your bullshit — well, most of the time. “Do you have a dick appointment that I don’t know about?” 

You laughed, your voice coming out an octave higher than you intended it to. “What? No!” So subtle, congratulations. “I’m just searching for a friend. She owes me a bit of money and she’s been avoiding me for some time.” 

You were impressed at the ease that the lie left your tongue. At the same time, you had been doing that for five months now — keeping your distance from mentioning anything Taehyung, figuring out excuses to get away from your friends at the weirdest of times — , so you guessed that was something that came with practice. 

“You want me to beat her up?” Hyejin offered. Just a glimpse was all that you needed to know that she was dead serious. “Give me her name. I promise I just wanna talk.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you said, chuckling at her aggressive demeanor. “It’s not a lot of money, I’m not super worried. I’m just tired of being avoided.” 

She smirked, taking another slip from her cup. How didn’t the drink end yet? That cup was infinite. “You and me both, sister.” 

Your lips parted, but, before you managed to let anything out, a loud sound of men screaming in excitement overlapped the beat of the electronic song. Hyejin met your eyes with a mixture of puzzlement and interest and, in an unspoken agreement, you two decided to see what the fuss was about. 

Lucky for you, you two didn’t even have to take two steps to figure it out. Since the large opening to the living room was right besides you, all that you needed to do was to take a look through it, right at the kitchen, to see the beautiful, Animal Planet view of Hoseok drinking beer upside down. 

“Hyejin?” You called calmly, eyes still glued to the spectacle.

“Yes, love?” She answered, absent-minded. 

“You know who’s throwing this party, right?” 

She shrugged. “I might.” 

You suspired, taking a step back so you could stare at her. Behind you, people walked towards the kitchen, pumped to see if Hoseok could drink the entire thing (as if he didn’t do that in every single party he throwed). “So, there’s any other reason why you dragged me to Hoseok’s party, besides one that you needed someone to keep you company while you waited to be dicked down?” 

“Great deduction, Sherlock.” She smiled, eyes shining in enthusiasm. You looked at Hoseok, then back at Hyejin. Maybe she wouldn’t have any grounds to judge you and Taehyung after that circus performance. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried about that.” You crossed your arms. Seokjin, who was holding Hoseok by the ankles, pterodactyl-screeched in joy as the boy reached the end of the beer. Two more slips and he’d be good to go. “You sent him the tit pic, didn’t you?” 

Hyejin licked her lips, taking a hand up to fix her hair. “I’m only human,” she said. “Besides, I had already invested a lot on him. I even did a full body shave. I couldn’t just not do it.” 

You laughed at the idea, watching as she became more and more distracted by the man. A group had already formed around Hoseok, and you knew it was just a matter of when Hyejin would do the same. 

“What happened about being over all men?” You asked. 

“Yeah, yeah… After tonight. Right now I’m planning to get under one.” She gave you her neon green cup with a harsh movement, and you held it without thinking much about it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N. Hold my drink for me.”

“Have a great night, I guess,” you raised the sound of your voice as she began to walk away. “Text me when you get home!” 

She responded without turning back, giving you a thumbs up over her head. “You too, girlie!” 

And, just like that, she was gone. 

Disappointed but not surprised, you sighed and placed your body back against the wall. From the kitchen, a roaring applause exploded, and you knew that Hoseok had finished his Herculean task. Good for him. 

You stared down. The sharp shade of green reflected on the skin of your hands, looking like something straight out of Chernobyl. You took the cup to your nostrils and gave it an experimental sniff, your nose cringing at the appalling smell. Fighting the disgust that had built in your stomach, you quickly took it away from your face, and decided to place it on a table nearby. No wonder Hyejin was so out of it, the poor girl was suffering from radiation poisoning. 

The Chainsmorkers started to play and you asked yourself why the fuck was Satan in charge of the music. All around you, strangers fumbled to the rhythm of the song, a girl even falling to her knees at one bad turn of the ankle, then turning her gaze up at her friends and laughing maniacally. The odor that enveloped you was strong and nauseating — Axe body spray, probably — and the thumping of the sound was starting to get annoying. Since you were alone with your thoughts, there wasn’t much left besides to hyperfocus on those details, which was all but a pleasant pastime. 

You crossed your arms, bored out of your mind, and thought that it might be the wiser decision to go back to your place and just sleep the night off. Yeah, the semester was already ending, most of your tests and projects had passed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t completely exhausted at all the accumulated stress you had endured. Now that Hyejin had moved on with her plan, you didn’t have much of a part to play in that party anyways. 

A couple almost tripped on you as they giggled their way towards the stairs, probably searching for an available room. What a nice reminder. You pressed your lips together, then peaked back at the kitchen, where you only saw Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook leaning over a pile of red cups — Yoongi right behind them, seeming like he was about to kick the whole thing down. You didn’t know where Taehyung was, but he most likely already left with someone else. 

You turned back to your previous position, crossing your arms in frustration. Great. Your friend was after her sexting partner, and your own booty call was probably balls deep inside someone else by then. Really, there wasn’t much that you could do in there. It would be better if you just left while your dignity was still intact. 

With a sigh, you pushed your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. You were praying that Hyejin remembered to give you the car keys, otherwise you would be trapped in that place for god knows how lo— 

Oh there he fucking was. 

The moment that you saw Taehyung, sitting on the couch across the room from you, it was like you forgot to breathe for a moment. That little demon incarnated looked better than you had anticipated — dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. His dark hair was parted in the middle, a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, and his thumb distractedly circled his lower lip as his gaze navigated around the room, staring at nothing in particular. Next to him, you could see another one of his friends — Jimin, if you were not mistaken — talking about something animatedly, but the other man was paying no attention. 

His expression was one of irritation, you noticed, with his thick eyebrows moving together, jaw clenching. It was pretty erotic, if you said so yourself. You didn’t know what Jimin was telling him, but you sure hoped he wouldn’t stop anytime soon. 

When he saw you, however, Taehyung’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipated. 

With your mind racing in anticipation, you watched as his eyes met your own, then trailed down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you had predicted. You knew that stare awfully well — it was the same one that Taehyung gave you when he saw you around campus, the silent provocation that told you, and only you, that he really wanted to have some alone time right now. 

A sly smirk sprouted at the corner of his lips, and he leaned back against the couch. You followed his movements as he reached towards his pocket and came back with his phone, staring at you as he did so. The phantasmagoric white light casted odd shadows over his face as he unlocked it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he started to type something. Once he was done, he locked his phone and placed it back where it had come from. 

Inside your purse, your own phone beeped happily. 

You licked your lips, trying your best to forge indifference as you reached for your device. You swore you could still feel his eyes still burning on you, impatient and deep, watching your every move with eagerness. 

[00:23] Taehyung: so glad to see that you came bby 

[00:23] Taehyung: do me a favor and meet me in the bathroom upstairs, will ya? Second door to the right ;) 

Yep, new plans: you would stay there a bit longer. 

Hammering against your chest, your heart seemed as if it was about to jump out of your mouth by the time that you turned your attention back to the couch. Taehyung, however, had already gotten up, and you had the chance to take a last glance towards his beautiful form as he walked towards the stairs. Jimin, from the couch, appeared to be as lost as they come. 

From the kitchen, the resounding complaint of the group you had seen before ruptured your hypnotized state — Yoongi had, in fact, kicked everything down. Taken aback by the carnality that permeated your chest, you locked your phone without typing an answer and leaned back against the wall, deciding it would be best to wait a minute or two before following him upstairs. Amongst your thoughts, a part of you was still judging whether you adored or despised Kim Taehyung, and the intoxicating effect he had on you. 

Finally, you decided to take the stairs. You wondered, as you opened your way through the ocean of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you weren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that was actually very simple. It was a story with a start, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two wanted to fuck each other, you did, then you moved right on. No hidden feelings, no strings attached. That was it. Couldn’t get any better than that. 

Regardless, it wasn’t everything about that, and you knew it. It was about overhearing other girls talking as you made your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot he was, or about how he didn’t call them back after he gave them the best night of their lives. It was about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. It was about knowing that yeah, Taehyung was crazy hot — and you could have that whenever you wanted. It was about hearing him complain about his friends, who told him that you’d never give him a chance, and seeing the delectable pleasure in which he vangloriared himself, knowing very well that you and him had a second life to share whenever suited. 

You reached the second floor with electric currents running through your veins, anticipation building like a tidal wave inside your abdomen. You two had never done something like that so close to so many people and, yet, you adored the idea even more. 

The cold metal of the door handle met the palm of your hand and you tried it once, twice, with no effect. After looking at the corridor and making sure that Taehyung was nowhere else to be seen — besides the fact that, if he didn’t manage to get the bathroom, he would surely text you a different location — you were left to assume that he wanted to know that it was you who waited at the other side. 

With a sigh, you took your phone out of your purse. Maybe your fingers weren’t as steady as you’d like them to be, but no one needed to know about that. 

[00:27] You: plz open the door thx

Expectantly, you placed your phone back and tried to overhear some sort of sound signifying that he was moving closer to the door — but the song was so loud that you could barely understand your own thoughts. The next seconds that you stood there, just waiting for him to open the door, had been the longest ones you had endured in your life. 

Eventually, however, the door creaked open. 

You gave one last, paranoid glimpse at the strangers in the corridor, but none of them seemed to notice that Taehyung hadn’t left the bathroom by the time that you came in, locking the door behind you. 

It was like stepping into a different reality. The lights inside the bathroom were absurdly bright when compared to the dim environment that expanded outside; the obnoxious song and chatter had instantly morphed into a muted exclamation outside of the door, only the reverberation of the bass making itself present. Just like the calm before the storm, there was a moment of tranquility between the instant that you locked the door, and the one that you saw him. 

As you turned around, dwelling in his proximity, you thought about a million things at the same time — about teasing him about his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he had to count on his covert booty call to get laid in a party. You thought about how gorgeous he looked, about how his eyes glistened in interest as he took a quiet step towards you, his roseate tongue coming out to lick his lips. 

Regardless, before you could say anything, Taehyung’s lips were on your own, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. You whimpered in surprise as he pushed you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezed your body against his. Your purse fell on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even noticed it. 

Taehyung had always been an intense kisser to say the least, but that night it was something else. That night, he was kissing you as if he physically couldn’t contain himself long enough to do anything else; as if all that he could think of doing was to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, your fingers pulling on the strands of his hair. As he invited his tongue inside your mouth, Taehyung groaned and lowered his hands, squeezing your ass like he was about to lose every last ounce of sanity he had left in him. 

You sighed as he moved his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses in a way that you knew would leave a mark the next day. “Someone’s excited,” you commented, slightly breathless. Your only response was another groan, and the rolling of his hips against you, where you could feel his cock, already semi-hard, pressing against your inner thigh. “Couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else.” 

One of his hands moved up to your hair, pulling your head sideways so he could have a better access to your neck. “I need to have you now,” his deep voice came out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your center. 

“You’re starting to get more adventurous with this.” You bit down on your lower lip and he sucked your flesh, groping your ass once again. “Parties used to be so off limits to you.” 

Taehyung chuckled against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. He started making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you thought you could very well pass out at the level of craving that had built inside you. “I changed my mind.” He spoke as he leaned back. 

You smirked at his attitude. “We’ll end up getting caught.” 

“Aw, baby.” He pouted, looking at you with artificial pity. Okay, he could be kind of a prick sometimes. “You’re the one who’s worried. And you came all the way up here because you wanted to. You know I’m not one to insist.”

“I can leave, then?” You raised one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“You can, the door is right behind you,”  Taehyung told you, quickly losing interest in that conversation. “But something tells me you won’t.” 

You didn’t even try to respond, because there was nothing to be said: both of you knew what you were doing there, and the idea of walking out was just too ridiculous to consider. 

With a suspire, you watched as Taehyung moved his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“What if someone hears us?’ You suddenly remembered, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“What is it, baby?” He asked as his fingers worked on your buttons, exposing more of your torso. That slow pace of his was going to kill you one of those days. “You’re worried that people are going to find out about this? About us?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but his chuckle — so deep and melodious — caught you off guard. 

“How scandalous, right? Y/N is not the pure little thing she makes herself to be,” Taehyung continued, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. He licked his lips at the sight, humming with delight. “Red lace? You really want to tease me.” 

You swallowed dry as the man took the fabric off your shoulders and gently placed besides the sink, above a towel. He could be so thoughtful sometimes. “Taehyung, I—“ 

“You’re such a little brat sometimes, do you know that?” he interrupted, eyes following his own movements as his hands circled your body, moving to unclasp your bra. And of course he got it right on the first try. “You came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it.” 

You stared him down, a smirk already creeping up at the corner of your lips. “How does that make me a brat?” 

He chuckled. “Look at you, trying to play the naive card on me.” Another agile movement of his fingers and your bra was joining your blouse besides the sink. Taehyung sighed tentatively at the image of your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “Pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. You can drop the act now, baby.”

“I don’t—“

His mouth attacking your breasts was all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he went there to do. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezed you, playing with your soft boobs as he moaned against your skin. 

“I love it so much.” Taehyung hummed as he sucked on your breasts, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. You had almost forgotten how much Taehyung ached to play with your boobs; how often he would squeeze them, suck them; find excuses to feel them against his body. Not that you were complaining. “And I love that it’s all for me.” He breathed out before attacking your other nipple. “All of this… all mine.” 

You whimpered at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. As much as you knew he was most likely just saying whatever he thought would turn you on — besides, you two had already agreed on a pretty open “relationship” —, Taehyung’s words expanded inside your chest, building a heat that seemed to suffocate you. Even if you knew it was bullshit, you liked to be called his. Ego strokes and all of that. 

“Taehyung…” There was only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and you couldn’t care less if they heard you calling out his name. That boy really did wonders to your anxiety. 

But he also liked to tease you. 

He moved away from your breasts and you almost — almost — cried out in frustration. 

Taehyung traced his kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. You were going crazy with all that back and forth. “Baby, I’m not gonna lie, I understand where you’re coming from,” he said. “I like to keep this as a secret too. It’s so hot.” 

You almost forgot how to inhale when he aligned his face with yours, placing a pec on your swollen lips. “Yeah?” You asked, sounding as if you were in a daydream. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, breathless. Even if Taehyung tried his best to look as he was under absolute control, you knew that he couldn’t keep that front for too long. He was clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh was all of the proof that you needed. “It’s so great to know that I have one of the sexiest girls on campus just for myself…” His hand trailed up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “And no one knows.”

You bit your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “I thought you were the kind to kiss and tell.”

“Most times,” he mumbled, gifting you with another small pec. “Not with you. I like it like this. Having you when I want, how I want, and only you and I know.”

But you weren’t satisfied with his answer.  His hand did a turn and decided to make a quick stop on your ass, the feeling of skin against skin making your lower body tingle. “What’s so enticing about it?” You asked. 

He smiled. “Ah… many things.”

Your stare didn’t falter. “I’d like an exemple.” 

Instead of answering you straight away, Taehyung decided to take his sweet time. He leaned his head to the side and kissed you feverishly, growing satisfied at the small whimpers and suspires that echoed in between your mouths. His hands were all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes could not see. You only had your skirt and your panties on, and it was so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

At last, Taehyung pulled away, placing his forehead against yours. As he spoke, you felt the tingle of his hands as they moved towards the hem of your panties. “I like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re so sore from the night before,” he spoke slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “And I know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. About how I fucked you so good that you almost cried, and that it’s the next day, and you can barely walk.” 

You hummed, closing your eyes. “What else?”

Much to your dismay, his hands left your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “When you send me those audios late at night,” he was breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “Playing with your little cunt, crying out my name… shit,” he cursed. “How am I supposed to say no to that? So there I go, out the door, telling my friends that I’m gonna see this crazy hot chick and I’m gonna fuck her brains out…” he hesitated. “And I just get this... rush because they don’t know it’s you.” 

“And how do you know that I like any of it?” You teased. 

Taehyung chuckled at your question. Both of you knew that it was plastered all over your face, but he could keep up that little teasing if you wanted to. “Two reasons,” he said. “First: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“I don’t recall,” you responded, forging innocence. Okay, maybe you did play the naive part a bit much. 

“Oh no? What a terrible memory you have.” He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. Taehyung was so close that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wondered how you even managed to breathe in that position. “It was just last week, baby. You called me to your flat after your roommate had left.” One of his hands went back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like lit matches against your skin. “You opened so wide for me, you were so wet already. You got so horny with just the thought of having my cock, isn’t that right?” 

Much to your surprise, your voice came out a lot more steady than you had expected. “Don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

Taehyung chuckled, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “I don’t,” he agreed, digits pressing against your clothed clit. You knew he could feel how soaked your panties had become, so there was no reason to keep that up. Regardless, you kind of liked it. “But I do remember how much you wanted me that night, whining and begging me to fill you up with my cock. How many times did I fuck you that night, uh? Four? Five times? And you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbors might have been listening. That was so cute.” 

You sighed, your insides in knots over the tension you were sustaining. You hated him sometimes. Hated how good he was. “I wasn’t counting.” 

“I know, baby.” He swiftly pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, his long fingers digging into your wet heat. Memories of them fucking you open flooded your mind, sending a shockwave directly through your torso and towards your pussy. “And this right here, baby, is the second reason. Look at this: you’re soaked.” His digits moved, teasing your entrance, and the sound was so lewd that you had to suppress a moan. “You’re always so ready to take me. I love that. You’re so good to me.” 

God, you were about to lose it.

With the force of then thousand warriors, you held back another less-than-graceful sound from escaping your lips. You knew how much Taehyung liked you being loud (something to do with the adrenaline of getting caught, nothing new to see here), and so you had to keep your cool. It wouldn’t be so fun if you just gave him everything he wanted. 

“So quiet all of a sudden.” His nose delicately trailed up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in hot, open kisses. In an attempt to ground yourself, your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. You could still feel Taehyung’s fingers playing with your wet folds, seeing how much you could take before you were begging for them to enter you. You hated him. Or not. You didn’t know. “I know I leave you speechless, baby, but I wanna hear you too.” 

Strong and steady, his other hand met the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his. In a mindless reflex, you perked up your ass at the contact, making his fingers slip closer to your soaking entrance. 

“Nothing? Baby, you’re especially irresistible tonight.” Taehyung’s eyes were somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. He appeared as if he was two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind. “You know why I called you here?” 

“Because you want to fuck me,” you responded without missing a beat. 

“I do, of course.” He placed his forehead against yours, and you whimpered weakly as two of his fingers finally (finally!) made their way into your heat, stretching you nicely. “That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.”

Instead of answering, another slow, delicious moan dripped like honey from your tongue. Taehyung grunted, satisfied at your responses, and quickened the pace inside your walls; your eyelashes fluttering shut at the ambrosial sensation. He had told you once about how much he liked that part: knowing that you were getting ready for his cock, but already so eager to cum around his fingers. 

Did he tell you that while he fingered you inside his car? Yes. Did anyone else have to know that? Absolutely not. 

“You know what I was doing before I came here?” His question caught you off guard. 

You didn’t even know if you were able to answer for a second, but, happily, the word didn’t have any issue coming out. “What?”

He took a deep, sharp breath, curling his fingers inside you. You pressed your back against the door at the shock of his digits brushing against your sensitive spot, one of your hands flying to your mouth in a way to suppress a particularly loud exclamation of pleasure. “I was listening to Jimin complain about how much he wanted to have you in his bed tonight,” his voice came out in a harsh tone, full of spikes and pointed corners. “Over and over, like a broken record. He can be so explicit when he wants to. It’s unbearable.”

You bit your bottom lip, rolling your hip against his hand. Your body was starting to tingle, the muscles in your legs turning into jello, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. As you spoke, you noticed touches of bliss ornamenting your syllables, your words coming out with a bit more difficulty than before. “Oh, so you’re jealous?” You teased.

“Me? Never,” he was quick to respond, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him; his cock throbbing painfully against the fabric of his pants. “I’m just… trying to change your mind.”

“My mind?” You echoed, only half-aware of that conversation. Pleasure was starting to build in alarming rates, and you were starting to lose your trail of thought. “I haven't even decided anything yet.” 

“After I’m done, baby, you won’t need to,”  his voice came out in a profound whisper, sounding like a sweet melody against your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard and slow, so deep,” he stressed that word, making your pussy throb around his fingers at the idea, “that you won’t want to have anyone else for the night. Only me.” 

It sounded a bit like possessiveness or jealousy to you, but, honestly, you chose not to pick that conversation for the night. It was probably some kind of acting on his part too. Besides, you weren’t interested in any of Taehyung’s friends, so he didn’t need to worry about Jimin, or anyone else, making a move — especially when he was fingering you so well that you were about to forget your name. 

“And the best part, baby, is that no one will even know it,” he continued, separating his fingers slightly so he could scissor you. Against your best judgement, your knees were getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie. “Just you and I. Just the two of us will know how much you begged to be filled up with my cock, how wet you already are just for my fingers.” 

“Taehyung,” you called out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. You moaned out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone that he felt as if he was about to cum on the spot. God, Taehyung loved hearing the effect he had on you. “I’m close.” 

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your ear. His voice was so hoarse, so permeated by desire, that you knew that he was holding back too. His cock was hard and throbbing against your legs, and every minor movement of your thigh against his erection was enough for him to lose his breath for a moment. “But I don’t want you to cum, not yet.” 

Again, he pulled away. 

Taehyung wanted you to complain, to whine about the lack of contact or the warmness of his body — and so, just because you knew that it was his plan, you didn’t do any of that. 

You didn’t say a word as he moved his fingers away from your wetness, his other hand coming down to grope your ass. You didn’t flinch when he looked you deep inside your eyes, guiding his fingers between your lips, watching as your mouth obediently took them in, humming as you sucked your own wetness, never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, drowing in the sensation of your warm tongue licking his fingers. You didn’t think that Taehyung was fully aware of the way that his hips had rolled against yours, fighting for relief. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unreal.”  

And you knew that he said that praise to every poor soul that crossed his path, but it still managed to have some effect on you. Again: you were human, and Taehyung knew what the fuck he was doing. 

But so did you.

Before he could try and do anything else, you pressed your palms against his chest, gently pushing him a few steps away from you. Taehyung followed your lead, watching as you got down to your knees, facing his erection. 

In measured, lackadaisical movements, you pressed your lips against his covered cock, feeling its handness against your mouth. Air got stuck in Taehyung’s throat as he watched you, like a hungry lion, as you undid his pants and pulled them down, gifting you with the sight of his white boxers. 

Just because you knew he liked it, you moaned at the glorious sight of his big, heavy cock already so hard and ready for you; fingers caressing the tip of his member, where a small stain of precum already started to form. Taehyung was so on the edge that he hissed at the contact, one of his hands meeting the back of your head in a mindless impulse. “Don’t tease,” he warned. 

“Oh, so you can and I can’t?” You leaned your head to the side, and planted a kiss on his cock before looking up at him. May the heavens have mercy on you, because you never saw Taehyung so pissed off and turned on at the same time. “I think I could even make you cum like this if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he struggled to get out.

“What? You liked when I did that the other times,” you cooled. “Sometimes you didn’t even need my mouth.” 

He closed his eyes, trying to fight the moan that started to climb up his throat. “Stop.” 

“What? You don’t remember?” You asked, placing another kiss on his member, closer to tip that time. “When I let you grind against my ass in the library? You came just by humping me, pants and all.” 

With a cute smile, your hand squeezed his dick, before moving up and down, following its thick outline. Taehyung was dumbfounded, left to watch as your delicate hands worked on his erection with unbearable patience, his eyes glued to every action that you made — the fluttering of your eyelashes, the innocent gazes that you threw his way every time your lips met the cotton of his underwear. If you kept it up for long enough, he was sure he would cum all over his boxers. 

Still, the gods above had heard his prayers, and Taehyung watched as you pulled his underwear down. Without a second of hesitation, you moaned as your tongue licked him all the way from the base to the top, lips enveloping his crown as you sucked on it ever so slightly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he cried out, fingers pulling on your hairstrands. “That’s good, fuck.” 

You hummed, content at his reaction, and pushed him deeper inside your warm mouth, one of your hands holding at the base of his cock. Beneath your other palm, you could feel as the muscles of his thigh tensed up at the sensation. His lips open slighlty, allowing for a long, erotic moan to echo inside the bathroom as you started to set a pace, sucking him slowly, just like you knew it drove him mad. 

“You’re so fucking good at this, baby,” Taehyung groaned, unable to keep his eyes open for much longer. The vision of him was ethereal: head thrown back, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows forming an expression of sheer pleasure and concentration. You cursed your own eyes as they started to water, preventing you from watching him a bit further. “Oh, that’s right, just like that.. you suck me so well, fuck.” 

The pulsating, unsatisfied sensation of need between your thighs only grew, your walls clenching around nothing and your heart beating fast against your chest. You could taste as his precum leaked inside your mouth, his fragmented breaths and whines showing you that Taehyung also wasn’t made of steel. As much as you’d like to see him cum soon, you also needed to be taken care of.

After a particularly hard suck, you pulled your mouth away from his member, and looked up at him. The lack of contact was all that Taehyung needed to open his eyes and stare down at you, surprised at the interruption of his pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you tried your best to make your voice sound as pure and sensual as you could. His eyes widened slightly at the sound — no matter how hard he tried to make it seem like he was annoyed by that saint act of yours, you knew that it drove him insane. “I want you to fuck me now, please.” 

You watched as his face presented a thousand emotions at the same time, and then eventually settled on the cool, controlled dominance you adored so much. Another surge of pleasure ran down your body, much stronger this time, and the feeling of your soaked panties against your pussy was making you go insane with anticipation. 

“I love it when you ask politely.” He placed his hand on your chin, trailing your lower lip with his thumb. “Get up, baby,” he commanded. 

Without an ounce of hesitation, you did as you were told, letting your body be guided by his large hands. 

Taehyung turned you around and leaned you against the sink, positioning himself behind you. “Back to me, ass up,” he said, “Keep it like this, alright?” 

You nodded, unsure that you could say anything else. 

“Good girl.” Taehyung once again held your chin up, making you stare at your own reflection in the mirror for a second before your eyes traveled towards his. God, he was an absolute mess. In the best of ways. “I want you to look at it.”

Any second now, your legs would give out and you would crash down on the floor — or, at least, that’s the sensation you had. It was unbearable to watch as Taehyung took his time removing his shirt; then your skirt and your panties, dripping them down your legs one by one, his mouth so deliciously close to your heat that you felt like you could faint. 

“So pretty,” he mumbled to himself, watching your pussy with desire. “So fucking wet.” 

“I want to feel you, please.” You arched your back, throwing your hips closer to his. 

“Like this, baby?” With a glorious roll of his hips against yours, you felt as his cock moved in between your folds, his head only touching your clit slightly. The sensation alone was enough to make you perk your ass up at him, a motion that wasn’t left unnoticed by his part. 

He smirked at your reaction. “Such a pure little thing, aren’t you?” Taehyung’s hands palmed your ass, moving like snakes towards your waist, where they held you in place. Another roll of his hips and the contact of his dick against your clit made your knees buckle. “You’re so polite, just asking for my cock again and again… You don’t even notice how wet you get thinking about it, grinding against it. Isn’t that so?” 

You had no option but to agree, lowering your head to look at the marble sink beneath you. “Yeah,” your voice came out in a pathetic whine, but you couldn’t even care about it. You just wanted to feel him inside you. “It’s all for you, Taehyung.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, taking one of his hands to guide his cock towards your opening. Expectant, you held your breath, but he didn’t slide in just yet. “Just tell me what you want, come on.” Again, he leaned in and pushed your chin up. “And look at me while you say that.”  

Obediently, you did. Taehyung was a greek god then. Under the pale yellow lights of the bathroom, his lips were swollen and red, the lower one being bit lightly by his teeth; his entire expression permeated by lust as he dove into the sensation of his cock teasing your entrance. He stared at you like you were good enough to eat, his eyes coruscating with so much hunger that you couldn’t even think about anything else but him. No wonder you kept coming back. His entire presence was engulfing every fiber of your being. 

Maybe Kim Taehyung did have a golden dick, after all. 

“I want you to fuck me, Taehyung,” a sentence had never been so clear, so sincere. From the corner of your eye, you could see your own face, desperate and pleading, as you fumbled closer to his member. “Please. I need to feel you inside me.” 

With a hum, he kissed the nape of your neck. “Whatever my girl wants.” 

And, before you could even think about his words, your thoughts were broken as you moaned out his name, feeling as his big cock stretched you, hitting all the right spots. You had missed that sensation so much, of being so full of him, so hypnotized by the movements of his body against yours, that you didn’t even compute the shuddering breath that departed from his mouth, nor the curse that he had let out once he felt the warmness of your walls around his aching member. 

He thought he could lose his last ounces of sanity as he pulled out just enough to leave only his tip in, before throwing his lips against yours and filling you back up. Soon enough, Taehyung was setting a rhythm, unable to control his comments as he kept thrusting inside you. 

“So tight, baby,” he spoke in a whisper, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it. His face in the mirror was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen: Taehyung was so lost in pleasure that his features had morphed into an expression of sheer bliss; all of his concentration directed at the movements of your body, the way that your walls held him with so much desire. “You take my cock so well… Shit, you’re making me go crazy.” 

Taehyung’s breath quivered and he leaned his body towards you, fighting for balance. He had one of his hands on your waist, and the other was holding down to the sink, leveling his figure as he started to thrust into you in that different angle — just as slow, hard and deep as he had promised. 

You rolled your head back once he hit the right spot inside you, your moans going up an octave. “Fuck, right there, Taehyung,” you whined, barely aware of the volume of your voice. To hell with it, the music was too loud anyways. “There, right there, don’t stop.” 

“Here?” He groaned, thrusting in the exact place that made you cry out. “That’s it, baby, let it out.” 

And you wanted to prolong that moment for as long as you could, but, truth was, he had played around with you enough that you knew you wouldn’t last much. Even sucking his cock, feeling as he mumbled and trembled under your touches, had been enough to keep you turned on. Again: you were only human, and the paradisiacal feeling of Taehyung’s cock filling you up to the brim, hitting your sweet spot with forceful thrusts, was a bit more than you could endure. 

“Taehyung, I think I’m close,” you told him, feeling as your arms grew weaker beneath you. It was just a matter of time before your legs started shaking too. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Shh, that’s fine, baby.” He moved your hair away from your back, placing a trail of sloppy kisses on your shoulders. “Come on, cum around my cock. I want to feel you.” 

“It’s so big, Taehyung,” you moaned, closing your eyes in defeat. You could tell that your pleasure was already building up too much, too fast. You couldn’t help it: he was stretching you so fantastically that every part of you was on overdrive, the pent-up tension of the entire night culminating in one long, edging orgasm. 

“It’s all yours, baby, all of it,” he told you, guiding you towards your high. God, his voice was so hoarse, so sweet. “Cum for me, okay? And don’t hold back, I want to hear you.” 

Just like that, you came with a loud moan and the calling of his name in a repetitive prayer, walls clenching around him in a way that made him lose his grip on reality. You whimpered at the pleasure, that now was gradually subsiding, and lowered your body against the marble, feeling how cold it was, how different it was from the rest of the bathroom. 

“That’s it, baby, yeah… That was so fucking hot.” Taehyung groaned behind you, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was moving you so hard that you could feel your hip bones being pressed against the corners of the marble surface, the dirty sound of wetness and skin against skin filling the ambient. “Look at all this… so wet and tight, even after coming so hard.” 

From the way that Taehyung’s movements started to get sloppier, you could tell that he was losing himself in his own sense of pleasure, getting closer to his own climax. “All of this… all for me,” he moaned out, eyes glued to the motion of his cock coming in and out of your dripping center. “You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I could have you like this forever.”

The pounding of his hips against your ass was getting so intense that you could feel tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes, fingers trembling under the weight of overstimulation. Taehyung had fucked you hard before, but you just couldn’t get used to how fantastic it felt. 

“I’m close,” he cried out behind you, his breath coming out in broken, tremulous expirations. “Can I cum on your mouth, baby? I want to see you swallow everything.” 

You nodded, mouth salivating at the thought. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. “That’s my girl.” 

Taehyung pulled away from you and you moved fast, getting back down on your knees as he guided his cock, so red and swollen, against your lips. 

You opened your mouth to accommodate him, taking his member slowly at first, thinking it would be better to adjust to its size. After that part was done — and Taehyung had already turned into a quivering mess above you — you proceeded to move your head, sucking his cock as hard as you could muster. 

“That’s right, suck it,” he moaned, buckling his hips forward. The tip of his cock touched the back of your throat and you gagged, presenting Taehyung with one of the most gorgeous views he had seen all night. “Fuck, yeah— Take everything, baby, come on.” 

You did, of course. You continued to suck Taehyung with a moderate pace — not so slow that it would kill him, but not so fast that it would kill you — and watched as he started to become undone under your touches. First, it were his trembling thighs, then the weakening of his grip on his head. You looked up at him with blurry eyes and watched as his lips fell open, moaning obscenities, and his eyes closed with intense concentration. It was just a matter of time before he—

“F-fuck!” 

Taehyung spilled in your mouth and you struggled to swallow everything, just like he had told you to, whining at the feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching in between your lips. The discomfort between your thighs had resumed, pulsating inside your core in a silent need, but you didn’t think you’d have the stamina to deal with it right then and there. 

You pulled your head away from his cock when he started wincing with sensitivity. With doll-like eyes, you met his hooded ones, glad to see the satisfaction and appreciation that was plastered all across his face. He always looked so good after sex, you realized, and you felt extremely satisfied to know that his fucked-out, blissful expression was all because of you. 

In a gentle motion, Taehyung placed his thumb on your check, cleaning a bit of his cum, and brought it over to your lips. “You missed this bit,” he said. 

You sucked his thumb clean without thinking twice, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable your knees felt. Above you, Taehyung smirked at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. 

After he removed his thumb from your mouth, you got back to your feet. It crossed your mind that your legs might give out eventually, but, thankfully, they seemed a bit more firm than you had anticipated. “Better?” You asked. 

“Perfect.” Taehyung kissed you, sighing against your mouth. He pulled away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow after everything you two had done. “You always are.” 

“Aw, how nice of you.” You smiled at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. The bathroom was starting to get cold, and the afterglow of sex couldn’t keep you warm for much longer. “Always with the compliments.” 

He hummed in agreement, watching your naked body; your fingers holding that red bra he adored so much. “Any chance I could see you again this week?” 

An incredulous laugh ruptured your lips as you clasped your bra behind your back. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking about the next time?” 

He shrugged. “I like to have a schedule.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Your skirt moved up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. From the corner of your eyes, you could see as Taehyung fumbled with his own pants, which he now cursed for being inside out. Seems like he was only thoughtful when it came to your wardrobe. “It’s not like we usually know when this stuff is going to happen.” 

There was a slight tremble in your fingertips as you reached for your blouse and placed it back on your body, but you decided to ignore it.

“I guess,” he mumbled. 

You stared at your own reflection in the mirror as you started to close your buttons, somewhat amazed by the fact that it didn’t appear like you just had had sex. Yeah, your hair was all over the place, and maybe your neck was a bit too red in a few spots, but nothing that a bit of time wouldn’t fix. Could’ve been worse. 

“Can you pass me some toilet paper?” You asked him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. There was no way in hell you were going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando wasn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 

Taehyung was sitting on the toilet lid, putting his pants back, and simply nodded in agreement before doing so. “I’d like to know, though,” he insisted.

You smiled, taking a cheeky glance at him. “Since when you’re so needy?” 

He groaned. “I’m not needy, shut up” 

“Well… You have my number.” You responded, throwing the paper in the trash after you had finished cleaning yourself up. “Call me whenever you’re feeling like it, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

He pouted, clearly frustrated at the answer. “And what if you can’t make it?”

“Then you have two good hands to help you,” you answered simply, fingers working on adjusting your hair. The sound of his zipper closing echoed inside the cubicle. “Besides.. you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

You threw your red panties at him, watching as his face grew interested at the piece of wet cloth in his hands. Taehyung sighed, tugging his shirt back inside his pants. “You’re killing me,” he complained. 

“Good.” You smiled, turning back at him. “How do I look? Presentable?” 

He examined you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “It doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that's what you’re asking.” 

“Great!” You swirled around, giving the mirror a last peek. You were getting suspiciously good at making it seem like you two never happened. “Have a nice night, Taehyung. Maybe wait like five minutes before leaving the bathroom. And don’t get too excited with the panties.” 

Taehyung got up and walked closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. You were positive he would have fun with it later. “You’re going home already?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you did a good job at making me tired.” The clicking of the lock was a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during that time, so maybe your sexual shenanigans had been overlooked once again. “So don’t worry. I’m in need of a good night of sleep. I’m not spending any time with your horny friends.” 

Taehyung chuckled, leaning closer to you. “I was kind of exaggerating about that Jimin part for dramatic effect, but alright.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Good night. Thanks for the panties.” 

You laughed. “You’re welcome.” 

Just like that, you were out the door, and the moments you had shared in that bathroom with Taehyung had been placed inside a capsule. No one noticed you as you walked through the corridor, past the few strangers still around, and down the stairs, where the party had clearly lost its initial olympian proportions. 

Cups and pieces of paper were thrown all over the floor, and you watched as people stumbled around, trying to find some sort of balance against the walls. No matter how many Hoseok Parties you went to, you were always amazed at the way that they were quick to be set ablaze, but equally quick to burn off. It was like premature ejaculation, in the weirdest and saddest of ways. 

Still, you weren’t expecting to see a recognizable face at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hyejin,” you called, surprised to see your friend around. “Thought you would’ve gone to bed with Hoseok by now.” 

Seeming as dumbfounded as you, she followed your movements as you walked down the terminal steps, finally reaching the first floor of the house. There was a weird shadow of discomfort casted over her features, and you thought it had something to do with Hoseok. “Uh… Not really,”  she told you. “I just want to go home, actually.”

“You and I both.” You placed one of your arms around her shoulder, guiding her towards the front door. “Let’s go, this place has already peaked, anyway.”

She suspired, her lips pouting. “Thanks.” 

A few minutes of silence expanded between the two of you as you walked out of the house and into the front lawn, where a sea of trash had already taken over a few chunks of grass. You didn’t know how or why, but someone had brought an inflatable pool, and there was only one solitary purple dildo swimming in it. What a sad sea creature, you thought, before your attention was pulled back to your friend.

Hyejin switched uncomfortably in your arms, hugging her own body in a way to shield herself from the gelid breeze of the night. You looked at her with care, watching as her face contorted at sight of the street lights, magnifying the odd expression that had taken over her. “Tell me what happened between you two,” you asked tenderly. “You don’t seem too happy about it.” 

Your friend hesitated and, suddenly, you felt bad for pressuring her. At the same time, you were worried that something bad had happened. “Yeah…  so… apparently he thought he was texting a different person,” she told you. You could tell that she was having a hard time speaking. “It was kind of a mess, actually. He said that in front of everyone. I’m glad you weren’t there to see it.” 

Suddenly, you recognized that expression as being pure, unshakable humiliation. That must’ve been an ugly moment, really, since Hyejin wasn’t one to break easily. The booze probably didn’t help her emotional state either. 

 “Hyejin, I’m so sorry. He really is a fucking idiot for treating you like that.” You squeezed her body against yours in an awkward sideways hug. She eased into your touch, shoulders falling under the weight of your comforting words. “That really sucks. We can find a way to kill him, if you want. I’d hide the body and never talk about it again.”  

Even if she chuckled at the idea, you could tell she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Yeah… I don’t think I want to talk about that right now.” She cleared her throat, hugging her own body with a bit more force. The car was just a few steps away from the two of you, and you were beyond glad that you had managed to find a spot so close to the house. “Anyways… there’s something else. I went to find you earlier, when it all went down, so we could go home.”

You pressed your lips together, guilt hitting you like a punch in the gut. “Sorry, I was upstairs.” 

“Yeah, I realized that once I didn’t find you,” she continued. Hyejin’s voice was weak, her syllables slightly disconnected. She often spoke like that once intoxication and exhaustion joined in a horrible after-party dance. “I went up and searched around for you, but I… uh…” 

The two of you finally reached the vehicle, and you removed your arm from around her so you could move towards the driver’s side. You frowned at her hesitation, watching her over the roof of the car. “What is it?” You asked. 

“I needed to use the bathroom…” she trailed off. Her tone was almost inaudible. “And I…” 

You opened your purse, squinting your eyes to try and find the car key amidst the dimly-lit street. “And?” 

“The door was locked.” She gawked at you, eyes suddenly growing serious. You didn’t like drunk-Hyejin, with her unstable moods and abrupt expression switches. It was watching a horror movie sometimes. “Because you were in there.” 

Oh, you seriously didn’t want to have that conversation at that moment. 

Finally, you found the key and unlocked the car. The sound was like a gunshot through the night, your pulse starting to pick up the pace. You knew where she was heading towards now, but it’s not like she could be sure that it was you in there. You’d deny until the end of time. 

“What makes you think that it was me?” You questioned, opening the door. 

This time, she didn’t hesitate to respond. “I heard you.”

Oh. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck— 

Keep your cool. It’s okay. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“You don’t?” She started to raise her voice, clearly pissed off. You two were arriving at stage two of drunk Hyejin: past the sad introspection, and into banshee level. “I had to pee on the disgusting bathroom downstairs because you were fucking someone in there! I had to wait twenty minutes in line! And you lied to me! You told me you didn’t have a dick appointment!” 

“Shhh! Stop yelling!” You asked, exasperated. The night was too cold and the streets were too empty. You just wanted to go home before someone heard you. All that it needed was one half-assed comment from Taehyung about him going to the upstairs bathroom, plus someone interested enough to connect the dots, and your little secret would be up. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, okay? Now, please, get in the car, you’re super drunk.”

Before Hyejin could protest, which you were sure she would, you sank down on your seat, running away from her judgemental semblance. The thought of just driving off in sheer panic crossed your mind, but you quickly ignored it. You couldn’t leave her alone in that place, especially in the inebriated state she was in. No matter how much you really, really wanted to. 

Your friend followed your lead and sat down on the passenger seat, watching as you closed your door and checked the mirrors, avoiding her gaze with all your might. She sighed. “I don’t understand… Why didn’t you go somewhere else for that? People need to pee, you know? Or, I don’t know, puke… or maybe even—“ 

You threw your purse on the backseat, sighing in exasperation. That conversation was the last thing you needed after that night. “I don’t think it matters right now—“

“It does matter! I could’ve gotten a urinary tract infection.” Hyejin banged the door by her side, and you could tell she simply wasn’t measuring her force right. She groaned, lazily adjusting her body on the seat. “Now, you have to tell me who it was. It’s the minimum you can do.” 

You almost choked on your own saliva.  She really was out of it. “Like I’d ever do something like that.”

Silence grew thick inside the car, falling above you like a blanket. Hyejin looked at you like you had just grown a second head, making sure that she wasn’t drunk enough to imagine you flat-out denying her an information so valuable. To be fair, it wasn’t like you to avoid questions or keep names from her — at least, not so openly. You knew that she wasn’t dumb, and that she could tell that something was up even in her intoxicated state. 

“You’re really not gonna say?” She tried again, still struggling to keep her speech tied together. It was only a matter of time before she calmed down and fell asleep, and so you wouldn’t have to deal with that subject any further. “You almost gave me an UTI, and now you’re not gonna say who you were with? I need to know if it was worth keeping the bathroom all to yourself, because I already told you, someone probably went up there trying to—“ 

“Shit, Hyejin! I get it, you, can stop now.” You clicked your seatbelt with a bit more aggression than necessary. “You’re drunk right now.”

You leaned over her and placed her seatbelt too, since you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. Not with that poor movement precision. 

“And?” She pressed on as you moved back to your seat. “You’re going to tell me once I’m sober or something?”

You laughed, placing one of your hands on the wheel. “No, of course not.”

“Fine!” She crossed her arms dramatically and looked out of the window, pouting like a child. “I hate you for not saying.” 

“Well, I love you.” You looked at her, your own gaze navigating towards the window. Beyond the fogged glass, the house glowed in the most diverse colors, the sound of the bass reverberating inside your car like a distant pulse. You watched, heart clenching inside of your chest, as Taehyung stepped out of the front door with Jimin, his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. There was a volume at his front pocket, where you were sure he had tugged in your panties. “But now I think that we should go home and sleep. Let’s keep this conversation on hold.” 

Hyejin, however, wasn’t satisfied. “You know that I’ll find out eventually,” she said, still looking out of the window. “I always do.” 

You chuckled, turning on the engine of the car. On the other side of the street, the two boys took the opposite direction, leaving you two to stare at the open road before you. “Well, I’d love to see you try.”

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 4

Snape looks back on your days at Hogwarts, how your friendship came to be, and how it came to end.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4  CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 4  .:Budding Feelings and the Beginning of the End:.

Severus Snape had made a lot of mistakes in his life, and seeing you again after all these years was forcing him to relive every single one of them.

He stared blankly at the wall in front of him, shrouded in the darkness and grim silence of his empty house. He never thought he'd see you again, and certainly not under these circumstances. When he'd laid his eyes on you in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place he couldn't believe it. He, much like the rest of the Order (except for Molly, apparently) assumed you wouldn't be at these meetings any longer. After James and Lily were murdered and Sirius was thrown into Azkaban, you'd left London and headed to New York under the Ministry's alliance with MACUSA, hoping to help bridge the gap between muggle-borns and purebloods in America. He knew you had been back to meet Harry a handful of times, but he also knew that being in this city brought up painful memories for you, so he was as stunned as anyone else to see you standing there in the doorway, greeting them as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

He could see that traveling had been good for you. He'd heard through the Hogwarts circuit that you were back on auror duty across the world, taking special assignments from Dumbledore and the Minister for Magic himself. You seemed like you were doing better, but when you turned to smile at him he could see the hesitation and the sadness that brewed behind your eyes, likely his doing.

He desperately wanted things to go back to what they were before—

Before he'd ruined it. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright students,” Professor Slughorn said as everyone finished filing inside the room, “today we're going to be pairing off into new partners for the upcoming project.”

Groans and nervous chatter flooded the sound space immediately, no one very thrilled with having to work with someone new out of their control. You cast a glance over to Lily who looked equally displeased. You liked being her partner, you both excelled at the subject and worked really well together.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Slughorn said, waving the complaints off, “However, I am going to be giving you the luxury of choosing your own partners this time, but everyone—”

The energy in the room instantly shifted, everyone shoving around people to get to their friends.

“—keep in mind, if I see any slacking off or trouble brewing in these new partnerships I will not hesitate to rearrange them!”

Slughorns's words were completely lost among the commotion as people paired off before you could even get your bearings. Snape stalled as he stared at you from across the room; Lily had already been dragged away by Mary, and his brain was trying to work out how to ask you to be his partner.

Suddenly an arm was slung over your shoulder and you turned towards the new presence in surprise. You looked up to see Evan Rosier, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his Slytherin tie loose around his neck.

Oh, sod it, Snape cursed internally. He was too late.

“Wanna partner up?” Rosier asked, a crooked grin gracing his chiseled features, “It'd be my honor to have the smartest Potions partner in class, not to mention the most attractive.”

You rolled your eyes at the praise. Evan was your friend, and he was nice to look at, but if he thought that you would be willing to do all the work for the both of you in exchange for some cheap compliments, then he had another thing coming. You locked eyes with Snape from across the room

“It would be your honor,” you smirked up at Rosier, “but I already have a partner, sorry.”

It took Snape a few seconds to realize what you were doing, but once he snapped out of it he made his way towards you. You almost chuckled at how robotic he looked as he did, clearly shocked.

Rosier looked between the two of you and rolled his eyes.

“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” he said, letting you go and pushing you lightly in Snape's direction, “but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He sent a wink your way that left Snape's blood inexplicably boiling,

“Thanks for that,” you grinned, “and just so you know, I would have chosen you even if he didn't come up to me, so don't get all pouty about it, okay?”

Severus just looked at you blankly. Even after four years it was frightening how well you were able to read him; for a moment he was scared that he'd accidentally projected his thoughts to you, but he wasn't anywhere near that level of legillemency yet. He wanted to say something that had some semblance of gratitude but settled on:

“Whatever.”

To which you just laughed and dragged him to your now shared desk.

You really were something else.

“Now then,” Professor Slughorn addressed the room, “today we will be beginning the new unit on toxic concoctions, starting with the Draught of Living Death. If you would all turn to page ten of your books, we will get started presently.”

You turned open your book and Severus did the same. As he did, you noticed that nearly every page was covered in small notes littering the margins, with some of the instructions circled, crossed out, or modified. You were hardly surprised, Snape had been pouring over this book since last year when he'd stolen it from a fifth year Slytherin who'd been speaking poorly of you (that last part you were unaware of).

You turned your attention to the directions, reaching over to preheat the burner so your cauldron would be hot enough by the time you began. However, as soon as you lit the flame with the tip of your wand, your cauldron shot up into the air, hitting the ceiling with a loud BANG! before crashing down back onto your table, breaking several of the glass instruments that were settled there.

Your face burned embarrassment as everyone in the room turned to look at you in shock.

“Snape, (L/n),” Slughorn said, surprised, “whatever happened?”

“I. . .” you began, not knowing what to say, “I don't know, I'm sorry, Professor.”

“Quite all right,” he said uncertainly, restoring your table and equipment with a wave of his wand, “just be sure whatever that was doesn't happen again.”

“Of course,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the snickering around you. If you noticed the way that it stopped as soon as Snape sent a deathly glare at the culprits, you didn't show it. You reached down to grab your cauldron, noticing that the bottom was dusted in some sort of orange powder. As you turned it over, a note fell out of it.

You're welcome, (L/n). Sorry I couldn't be there for the fireworks~

J.P.

“That sneaky little, ugh,” you crumpled the note, growling in frustration.

“What is it?” Severus asked, peering over your shoulder to glance at the paper. However, as soon as you tried to show it to him it vanished in your hands in a wisp of glowing embers. You turned to look at Severus who was still staring at you expectantly.

“It was Potter,” you rolled your eyes.

Anger flashed in Severus' eyes before confusion replaced it momentarily.

“But that was your cauldron, not mine. Why would Potter want to mess with you?”

And now the anger was back again. Snape was used to Potter’s crew targeting him; bullying and suffering through minor hexes had become an everyday occurrence, but when he imagined them doing anything to you it was enough to make him see red.

“Ah, well. . .” you trailed off, deciding that telling him you'd yelled at the group of Gryffindors: 'if you jerks want to have a go at Severus you're gonna have to get through me first!' was a bad idea.

“I sort of, maybe, kind of. . . started it?” you said. Severus raised a brow at you. “Look, Potter was asking for it, okay? It was about time someone messed with him for a change. And besides, it was hilarious, even Lily got a kick out of watching that broom hit him in the head.”

Severus chuckled at that, a hint of pride welling in his chest at yours and Lily's shared distaste for the Potter boy.

“But that was the last straw,” you declared, grabbing a Sopophorus bean from the bowl in front of you and a knife to cut it as per the instructions, “I'm sick and tired of him acting like he's better than everyone else,” you said, stabbing down with your knife for emphasis. The Sopophorus bean jumped as you did, sliding out from under your blade and skidding across your cutting board. You huffed as you grabbed it again, placing it back down and holding it in place. “And he walks around with that little posse of his like he runs this school!” You brought your knife down again, moving your fingers at the last second, but the bean still managed to slip away, trying to bounce back into the bowl.

“This means war!” you seethed, grabbing the runaway legume again, now at your wit's end, and crushing it in your fist. It stopped jumping as the beet-red juice of the plant dripped down your arm, and Severus looked at you with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, that's one way to do it,” he said.

“Shove off,” you said playfully, throwing the bean in his direction. He dodged it easily, his smile growing.

“No, really,” he said, almost more to himself than you as he scribbled out the word 'cut' and replaced it with 'crush' in his notebook, “you might be better at this than you let on.”

You blushed at the unexpected compliment, backhanded as it was.

“Excuse you, I happen to be fantastic at Potions,” you said, grabbing another bean and avoiding his gaze.

“Right, that's why your cauldron exploded.”

“That was sabotage,” you shot back.

“I was talking about last week,” Severus said cheekily, taking in your flustered expression.

You both went back to your ingredients, eventually discovering that crushing the beans with the flat of a knife was the best way to extract the juice without them jumping. You watched Severus out of the corner of your eye as he measured out the African Sea water, adding it gradually as he stirred the mixture counter-clockwise. The elixir turned a bright blue color, shimmering as if light were being reflected off of it. He continued on with the formula, snapping off a few fluxweed sprigs before adding them and lowering the heat with his wand, hardly looking at the instructions at all.

You wondered where this newfound confidence had come from. Severus was usually so rigid and withdrawn, but right now he looked more at ease than you had ever seen him. A spark was present in his eyes as he worked that you rarely ever saw, and it made you smile despite yourself.

The rest of your potion making process went on without a hitch, and you silently applauded yourself as you watched the other students around you struggle to get their concoctions together. Even Lily seemed to be having trouble, though Mary wasn't really helping other than offering moral support.

You turned back to focus on your own potion, stirring it with the ladle and mesmerized by the way it began to turn a deep plum color. Meanwhile, Severus was cleaning up your shared station, looking over at the brew. His brows furrowed as he examined it.

“Just stir it a bit more,” he said, coming up behind you and placing his hand on top of yours, “the color is still off.”

Your face burned at the unexpected contact; Snape certainly wasn't a touchy person, so the act caught you completely off guard, though you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Severus nearly jumped backwards, absolutely mortified when he realized what he was doing. It was him micromanaging more than anything; he was so focused on getting the potion right he didn't even notice he was moving his own body as he gave you the instruction.

“Sorry,” he said, feeling quite possibly the lamest he'd ever felt in his life.

“It's okay,” you said, biting the inside of your lip nervously and continuing to stir like he said. Your light response allowed Snape to relax, his shoulders lowering a full three inches. He'd been certain you would have reacted to his mistake with disgust or repulsion, but you didn't. What did that mean? You were utterly confusing. Despite how well you could read him, Severus was unable to get a read on you at all. If he had been, he would have noticed the tiny smile on your face as you stirred, silently wishing his hand were back on yours.

You and Snape stood at attention as Slughorn peered down at your potion, looking mildly impressed. He reached into his robes, procuring an oak leaf from who knows where, and dropped it into your cauldron. The leaf floated on top of the liquid for just a moment before its edges began to burn. It furled from the unseen heat, folding in on itself and disappearing into the inky depths of the liquid. Slughorn's expression lit up, his impression no longer mild.

“Merlin's beard, it's perfect!” he exclaimed, “in all my years I've never seen a pair recreate this potion exactly as you two have done today.”

You beamed at the praise, your smile only widening as you saw your emotions mirrored in Severus' face, albeit more subtly.

Over the course of your fourth year, you and Snape continued to excel in Potions, receiving much praise from Professor Slughorn and a lot of glares from your fellow students. However, there was something else that continued that year, and that was your increasing interactions with James Potter.

“I just don't get why you even bother with him,” Snape had said to you one day while you were in Potions. Your prank war with James was at its peak, and you were sidetracked that day in class coming up with new ideas to get back at him.

“It's a full on battle now, Sev,” you said, “I can't back down! Now, for my next one I was thinking something along the lines of a callback to one of his earlier stunts. Maybe get him back for tampering with my cauldron at the beginning the year.”

“(Y/n)—”

“I've got a few friends in Gryffindor, and apparently he talks about his prank plans way too loudly in the common room, so I have a head start on this one. They mentioned something about my shampoo—“

“(Y/n),” Severus stressed, finally catching your attention. You looked up at him, embarrassed at you rambling. “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, “he's just baiting you. You know that.”

“It keeps them from doing anything that targets you, right?” you questioned back.

Severus didn't know what to say at that. It was true, ever since you had declared war on James, he and his stupid friends hadn't really bothered with him at all. Were you doing this for him? He didn't know what to do with the thought.

You were, of course, but you thought it better not to mention that in the last few months this had been going on, you'd also begun to find the rivalry and banter between you and James fun.

“Gather 'round students, gather 'round!” Slughorn beckoned the class over, disrupting your train of thought and putting an end to your conversation, “now, would anyone like to identify the potion in this cauldron here?” He gestured to a shockingly pink liquid that seemed to swirl on its own. Plum and periwinkle smoke wafted through the air above it in delicate spirals.

“That's Amortentia,” Lily said, “it's a love potion that's supposed to smell different to everyone depending on what scents attract them.”

“Right you are, Miss Evans,” Slughorn said proudly, “would you like to tell us what you smell?”

“Cinnamon,” she started slowly, “warm spices, butterbeer, sandalwood. . .” her cheeks reddened significantly, as if she'd made some sort of realization. “Th-that's all.” You stared at her quizzically but she just shook her head. You'd have to ask her about this later. . .

“(L/n),” Slughorn said, “would you be so kind as to do the same?”

“Sure,” you said, stepping up to the cauldron. It was captivating, almost drawing you in physically. “Wild lavender,” you said, smiling, your mother had a garden full of them when you were growing up, “rain when it hits the pavement, and old leather books.” Scents you wouldn't realize until much later all correlated with a certain person.

“Very different scents for very different people,” Professor Slughorn said, “thank you for demonstrating, you two. Now, we will not be brewing this potion today for obvious reasons. It is incredibly dangerous, capable of creating not true love, but unhinged obsession. What we will be doing, however, is studying its effects. . .”

“Strongest love potion in the world, huh?” Evan suddenly appeared at your side, “funny, I could have sworn it smelled just like you, although you wouldn't need a potion to reign me in~”

“Put a sock in it, Rosier,” you said, shoving him away playfully.

“Aw, come on, just one date wouldn't hurt,” he said, “I'm pulling out all my best lines here!”

“That's the best you've got?”

“Ouch.”

Snape couldn't help but glare at the Slytherin boy, not liking how close he was to you. Nice as he seemed, Snape knew how he could really be. He didn't think you'd be such good friends with Rosier if you knew he was knee deep in the dark arts as soon as the sun set on the castle. Then again, Severus wasn't one to talk.

Over the course of the year he noticed that you only grew closer to James, something that bothered him immensely. He was grateful that you had gotten his bullying to stop, but he hated that the way you had gone about it was to turn Potter into a friend. . .

“Merlin, he keeps looking over at you, Lils,” you said.

Lily and Severus looked over to where James sat with Sirius, Remus, and Peter in their corner table as usual. Somehow they always managed to be at The Three Broomsticks at the exact same time as your trio, almost as if they knew you were there. James Potter was, in fact, looking towards your table, until your friends not-so-discreetly turned to look at him and he diverted his gaze elsewhere.

“Idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your butterbeer.

Lily looked between you and James' table for a moment before turning back to you.

“Actually, (Y/n), he's staring at you.”

You looked at her like she'd grown a second head but then began to laugh.

“Is he? Jeeze, what a creep,” you said, but with affection in your voice that wasn't missed by Severus, “it's probably because I saved his ass the other day and he's still reeling from it.”

“Oh,” she said, a hint of what you swore was relief in her tone until she realized what you said, “Wait, you what?”

“Sirius and I were talking in the forest and we got ambushed by Malfoy's motley crew,” you said, “and Potter showed up because of course he did. It was just a little duel, no big deal.”

“What?!” Lily said, concern written all over her face, “they fancy the dark arts, (Y/n), you could have been hurt!”

Severus stared into his drink, unable to look at either of you.

“I'm fine, Lils,” you insisted, “and trust me, I don't think Malfoy's going to be bothering anyone anymore. Just show him a picture of a squid and he'll probably screech like a banshee.”

Lily laughed along with you, partially in confusion, until the first part of your statement hit her with a slight delay.

“Hold on, you were in the forest with Black? And did you just call him Sirius?” she asked, her teasing making your face flush.

“We just. . . figured some stuff out. . . It was nothing like what you're thinking, so drop it,” you grumbled, taking another drink to hide your embarrassed face.

“Whatever you say, (Y/n),” Lily sang, taking a sip of her own drink.

Severus felt jealousy bubble up in him like a disease. He cast his gaze upwards, his eyes locking momentarily with James'. His arch rival rose a cocky brow at him, his gaze unmistakably shifting to you and Lily before staring Snape down again. Severus took a sharp breath to steel himself, that feeling in the pit of his stomach never really going away.

That was the beginning of the end.

Read chapter 5 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy

[kimistorm]

[Lee Minho] Cats are the Worst

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: Lee Know/Lee Minho x GN! reader

Requested by: AvatarKyarra

Prompts: 6) “That wasn’t supposed to happen” and 9) “Don’t freak out”

Word count: 1.7k

TW: Mentions of food

AN: Lol <1k was a bit of a lie apparently. Anywho, thank you for the request! Sorry if the writing feels a little clunky/repetitive TwT BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, Hyunjin is back!!

“I don’t know, do you think he’ll like it?” you asked your phone that was on speakerphone as you scrolled through the list of recipes on your screen.

You heard an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line, “of course he’s going to love it. You’re his significant other.”

“Yeah, but he’s not that fond of sweets,” you bit your lip and ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

Han let out another groan from your hesitance, at this point, he was probably more frustrated than you, “have you seen him with Felix makes brownies?”

“Okay, but Felix’s brownies can make anyone melt.” You bit back in response as you thought to the cheery blond’s sweets. They always made you feel better, even after a rough day.

“He’s going to love anything you make him,” Han told you with finality, though this would be the fifth time he’s told you this. “But the more time you waste doing this the less time you have to make it.”

You snorted, knowing Han also had streaks of indecisiveness, “when did you become decisive?”

“Since you spent nearly an hour going in circles with me.” You let out a yelp of surprise, not realizing how much time had already passed. “Just make cookies! They’re going to be faster than a cake.” Your black-haired friend quickly told you, hoping to take this opportunity to give you a decision.

“Okay, okay, thank you!” you hurriedly clicked on the recipe with the highest rating and number of reviews.

“It’ll be amazing!” Han rushed to tell you as you fumbled with your phone to hang up.

“Thanks Han! If we have any extra I’ll bring you some!”

“Go, go go!” Han cheered before hanging up. With a determined nod, you ran around your shared kitchen for the ingredients. You frowned when you couldn’t find any more chocolate chips, Minho must’ve eaten them because you could’ve sworn you had some last week. It looks like you’ll have to change your plan and make sugar cookies. You found a simple recipe that allowed for decorating and decided that you’d decorate them. That’d be a cute gesture, right?

With clumsy precision, you measured out the ingredients and mixed them together to form the dough. You frowned as the recipe called to chill the dough for a couple of hours. You weren’t going to have time for that, so you’d have to skip that step and hope things still turned out all right. With the use of a couple of spoons and a butterknife, you were able to scoop out some relatively flat cookies onto the baking tray and pop them into the oven. It was a shame you couldn’t find the cat-shaped cookie cutters that you thought Felix gave you for Christmas, but they were very lost. Now that you think about it, you weren’t sure if you saw them since the day he gave them to you.

It was with a sinking heart when you realized you would have to wait for the cookies to cool before you could ice them. “It’ll be okay, right?” you worriedly mumbled as you glanced at your phone to see how much longer you had until Minho came home and the timer telling you that it would be close. Letting out a somewhat panicked but quiet, “aaaaaa,” you set to cleaning up the bowls and utensils you had used to make the dough. In no time they were on the drying rack and you grabbed a smaller bowl to make the icing.

You fished through to the back of your pantry for the somewhat old bag of powdered sugar that you used to decorate pancakes with and then never used again. You were glad to see it was still powdery and usable. You were measuring out the powder for the icing when a light body made its way to your side.

“Hey Doongie,” you cooed as you pet the cat who leaped onto the counter for some affection. “We’re going to make your dad cookies, what do you think?” dark eyes blinked at you lazily. “Ah, maybe that’s what I get for trying to talk to cats.” You sniggered when you got no response. You turned around to check the next steps of the recipe, but quickly spun around in fear when you heard the hollow ‘thunk’ of something plastic falling to the ground and an indignant ‘meow.’

“Oh no!” you panicked when you saw Doongie sitting cleanly on the counter where you left the white cat, but there was no bowl of powdered sugar. That was spilled on the ground. “Why’d you do that?” you wailed at the cat who you swore was smirking at you. You grew even more scared when you saw the disturbed flour on the ground. It was thrown all over the place and you saw pawprints leading out from the mess. “You didn’t!” you scolded as you followed the trail of white pawprints, already fearing for the mess that was being tracked all over your apartment.

Thanks to the visible trail, you were able to find the victim hidden in one of the cat houses perched on a scratching post. “You wanna come out?” you cooed to the cat enshrouded in darkness. You needed to see the damage that was done. Two eyes seemed to stare back at you from the darkness, blinking only once. You let out a sigh before returning to the kitchen to grab a cat treat. Doongie meowed pleadingly with you, going as far as to put a paw on your arm when you fished out a treat, “no.” You told the cat sassily, “you’ve caused enough trouble.” You swore Doongie rolled their eyes at you as you walked away.

“Come on out,” you gently cooed as you waved the treat in front of the opening to the cat housing. There was a moment of silence, and then a head popped out. You quickly moved your hand away so the cat would have to reach, and gasped when you saw the white cat who emerged. “Oh no Dori!” the normally striped gray cat was almost completely coated in powdered sugar. “On second thought,” you put the treat back into the housing, “you can stay in there.” You were not looking forward to washing the dark cat.

You left the cat to the darkness of the cat house and the treat before returning to the kitchen, letting out another wail when you saw Doongie playing around in the pile of sugar. “No! Bad cat!” you weren’t keen on another set of sugar tracks around the apartment so you slowly came closer to pick up Doongie. The white cat froze and stared at you, nimbly jumping out of the way when you lunged forward to pick them up. “No! Come back here!” you raced around the apartment chasing the white cat.

After a few seconds of chasing them, you decided to give up, hoping Doongie would calm down and sit instead of running around the entire apartment to cause an even bigger mess. You quickly closed the door to the bathroom where the cat was currently taking refuge and closed all the doors to the rooms. Hopefully this would keep the damage contained. With a sigh you set to cleaning up the powdered sugar that had splattered to the ground and somehow onto the cabinet right next to it.

You heard the deadbolt click and your heart sank as the door opened to reveal Minho, “hey,” while you were sad your cookies weren’t ready in time, seeing him always put a smile on your face and you got up from the ground to greet him, “you’re home early.”

“They let me leave earlier,” he smiled as the two of you quickly kissed. There was a meow and he looked down in confusion at the half-white half-gray Dori.

“Dori?” he kneeled down and rubbed the cat lovingly, “what happened?” he asked as he turned his attention to you.

“Don’t freak out.”

His dark eyes widened, “that’s not reassuring at all.”

“I was trying to bake you cookies, and then Doongie knocked the sugar bowl onto Dori.” Minho let out a quiet yelp and began inspecting Dori for any wounds. “Sorry.” You muttered shamefully, you were just trying to celebrate.

“Don’t worry about it,” Minho smiled as he pulled you into a hug, “that’s so sweet you tried to make something for me.”

“I guess I made something.” You muttered bitterly into his shirt, “a mess.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” he told you gently, “they’re self-cleaning,” he gestured toward Dori, “it’ll be fine. Probably.” You giggled at his last comment, relieved to find he wasn’t mad. He was an angel, if your positions were switched, you definitely wouldn’t be as cool-headed as he was right now. “Is something burning?” Minho asked after a moment and you let out a scream, running over to the oven and completely deflating when you saw the blackened cookies.

Minho aided you in opening the window and airing out the open oven so the fire alarm wouldn’t go off, “that wasn’t supposed to happen.” You mumbled sullenly as you took out the cookie sheet and cautiously broke one of them, causing it to completely shatter and reveal how deep the black reached. “I kind of don’t want to scrape off the burnt parts to get to the good stuff.

Minho peered over your shoulder and popped one of the broken pieces into his mouth. His eyes watered at the hot treat and he frantically waved a hand over his open mouth to try and cool it down. “Yeah, it’s kind of bad.” He answered honestly as he engulfed you in a back hug, “and it burned half of my taste buds before I even tasted it.” You deflated at his blunt comment, “don’t worry! Let’s go buy some cookies at the bakery down the street!”

“But I wanted to make you something to celebrate,” you pouted, looking sadly at the blackened sweets.

“Just being with you is enough,” he smiled into your neck.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, “you’re too nice.”

“Come on,” he gently tugged at you, “let’s clean up the cats and get some cookies.”

“I love you,” you told him softly as you gave him a kiss.

“Love you too.”

Masterlist

[hwangsies]

Yay! Can I please request giving chan a blowjob for the first time after a fancy dinner date? Ending I cuddles ^^ thank you in advance ❤️

[9:52 pm]

"you didnt have to take me to such a nice place, you know?" you bat your eyes at the handsome man sitting across from you.

"pizza and netflix would've totally been enough" you grin.

Chan chuckles "thats not how dates work y/n, i'm trying to impress you" he looks down at his hand, your smaller one lying in it.

"you know you're gonna have to keep up this standart now, right?" you quip, pointing around you.

"i'd be happy to" he smiles, dimples appearing that make you swoon everytime.

To be honest, you wanted him to fuck you into your mattress after your first date with him.

And the feeling hasn't changed, but he insists on being the best-mannered guy you've ever met.

Only kissing you goodnight after your third date and never even hinting at wanting to come inside with you.

"wanna get out of here?" he asks, nodding over to the door.

Well, now it was your fifth date and the urge to jump his bones has never been so strong.

"yea, lets" you smile before downing your drink.

~

Thats how you find yourself in the back chans car, straddling his built thighs as his lips work on your neck.

Your head is thrown back while he sucks a bruise into the base of your neck just below where your diamond choker is sitting.

His hands running up your thighs and hips and pushing up the fabric of your fancy strapless dress.

You moan as you loosen his tie, his large palms grabbing a handfull of your ass and rutting it against his crotch.

He holds your jaw before pressing his lips to yours again, teeth clinking together when you tug at his hair.

"m' not gonna fuck you in this car babygirl" he rasps against your lips.

"you want to fuck me?" you bite your lip teasingly.

"have i given you the impression i don't?" he chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"no, not exactly" you shrug "i'm just not used to guys being so respectful i guess" you joke, running your pointer finger down his chest slowly.

He laughs, leaning his head back.

You love his laugh: the way his dimples appear to the way his adams apple bops to the sheer sound of it.

"i'm actually more sorry that happy to hear that from you" he grins, his tongue darting out to wet his thick lower lip.

"don't be, i dont think i'll have to worry about that anymore" you loop your arms around his neck, touching the tip of his nose with yours.

"you don't" he assures you softly, his hands sliding up to encase your waist when you mold your mouth against his.

Chans tongue parts your lips before licking at your own, you taste the non-alcoholic wine on his tongue and moan into the kiss.

You slither your hand down to palm over his crotch, at which he jerks a little.

"i'm gonna stick to my word, baby" he reminds you of his disinterest of having sex with you for the first time in his car.

"just wanna thank you for dinner" you purr, climbing off of his lap and kneeling in between his legs.

"you dont have to do that" he holds your hands when you start unbuckling his belt.

"i want to" you look up at him "please"

He groans, running a hand through his hair.

"you're gonna be the death of me" he mumbles under his breath before helping you pull down his pants.

You rub him over his boxers for good measure before pulling out his erection.

Wasting no time, you lick a stripe up his shaft before swirlkng it around his thick dark pink tip.

A sigh of pleasure leaves chans lips when you sink down further and let his tip hit your throat.

He gently gathers your hair and holds it up in a makeshift pony tail.

"Fuck, thats it baby" he groans, trying to contain himself from bucking into your mouth.

You come up for air and pump him with your hand.

"am i doing good?" you as innoncently after licking your lips.

"so good babygirl" he hisses when you obscenely stick out your tongue to slowly lick at his tip.

You hum around him in content of his praise and suck him harder.

"fuck" chan curses and thrusts his hips into your warm mouth.

"just like that" he chants, gripping your hair tighter to keep your head in place as he fucks up into your mouth.

You peek up through your lashes when a tear rolls down your cheek, his head is thrown back.

His adams apple bopping when he moans, before locking eyes with you.

You gag when he hits the back of your throat , the vibrations triggering chans high as he spills his load into your throat with a drawn out groan.

"goog fucking girl" he rasps, running his fingers through your hair when you release his cock from between your lips.

You stick out your tongue to show him that you swallowed everything he gave you.

"fuck" he huffs, grinning as he helps you into his lap again before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"let me return the favor?" chan whispers after a minute pf kissing, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

"hmm" you close your eyes, locking your arms behind his neck and tucking your face into the slope of his neck "next time"

"okay" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"wanna stay like this for a little?" he asks softly, as if not to disturb the moment.

You hum "please" when he runs his fingers down your spine.

-

a/n: thank u for requesting & waiting! Also thank u for 700 followers!!!!! Im so shook lol ty🥺❤👄❤

[meadow-dusk]

A Few Words from Neil Young

Interview with Christian Lebrun & Francis Dordor | May 1976 | Best Magazine Excerpt, Neil Young on Neil Young: Interviews and Encounters | ed. Arthur Lizie, 2021

Holding out his bowl and spoon with childlike reserve, “No, I’ll take some more soup, please,” Neil Young is surrounded by four journalists (two from Best, two from Rock and Folk) as if for a domino game whose goal would be to prevent the fifth thief from being forced to pass his turn – this is the resonance of an interview, perfectly unexpected, made after the concert at the Pavilion and whose main motivation was undoubtedly this wonderful audience, one of the most receptive that we have seen in Paris. Talking about a set in a few lines would be profoundly unfair, as much for the indescribable density of the electronic part which culminated indifferently with “Down by the River,” “The Losing End,” or “Cortez the Killer,” as for the veil of intimacy shared with 12,000 people with the acoustic songs, that delicate harmony of receptivity compensating for the aggressive and desperate misery of this rusty and malicious arena. Two hours later, his face suspect, Neil appeared in a luxury box, repairing Giscardian youth, with a paranoid shadow in the extension of his heels. He sits in front of a vegetable soup and turns his deep gaze toward us. His eyes, like silver nails, seem to have been thrown into his head with a hammer blow; small feminine gestures accompany his measured and patient voice.

Q: Did you like this first Parisian concert?

NY: Oh yeah, that was a great time. I think it was a good gig. I think it will be one of the best in this tour. I love the audience. A very sensitive room, sensitive for the acoustic part and physically present for the electric songs. Even the audience dreams of this. A perfect mix between sensitivity and physical appearance.

Q: The Rolling Zuma review, what was it?

NY: Uh…that was a joke. We played in these clubs. I have a t-shirt from this tour: “Crazy Horse. Neil Young. Northern California. 1976. Bar Tour.” They were just free concerts in small venues. There were between fifty and a hundred people.

Q: Was that a mockery of Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue?

NY: Oh yeah! Elliot Roberts, my manager, told Rolling Stone I’d do several shows, they found out they were in clubs and they called it the Rolling Zuma Revue. It was very good for us, it allowed the group to come together for this tour. We did eight or ten clubs in three weeks. It was around my ranch. We drove there, Marin County, San Mateo County, old wooden bars…with all these people who live in the mountains and spend their money until drunk, we come up and people scream.

Q: Can you talk about the Zuma concept?

NY: It was a personal choice about breaking up with a girl, about the impressions of the subconscious, in fact it is a very romantic record. But some of the songs, of course, are very cynical. “Stupid Girl” is “get lost,” you see. They all come from a similar reality; I think each song adopts these reactions.

Q: And “Through My Sails?”

NY: The whole album is based on the same feeling, so I wanted to integrate it into my music. When I went through the breakup of my family, I couldn’t translate the feelings but if I had waited long enough, it wouldn’t have been so depressing, and I could then have used this turmoil to transcribe them. This is what I wanted to do here, experience it, finish this album.

Q: But it covers up feelings of a more positive nature…

NY: If I had taken it out when it happened to me, it would have been more painful. So I chose to extract this experience with the support of a certain strength and not with my current weaknesses.

Q: On Tonight’s the Night, in “Roll Another Number” in particular, you have this very chilly take on the hippies and the Woodstock generation…

NY: Yes…on Woodstock…but this album is too special. That’s why I didn’t play any of the songs on it tonight. I had this experience, I hardly assimilated it and I translated it, but I can’t play these songs on stage anymore. I won’t do any more. I did it in London, people were getting mad. I will not do any more, any of the songs that touch on drugs, which can annihilate you, nor the old drug songs.

(Here Neil becomes visibly feverish, his verbal flow is more precipitous, and the evocation of this tragedy seems to revive ever-fresh pains, the death of the road manager Bruce Berry for whom Neil bears the indirect responsibility since he didn’t allow Crazy Horse to reform, after several cures of detoxifications because he did not consider him able to function, made Tonight’s the Night, a painful album of remorse that mourns a guy and his incredible human potential.)

Q: You hesitated a long time before releasing this album.

NY: Yes, because it was touching an area that could destroy me. So I thought for a long time about what consequences it might have. I’m not an artist who would remake albums as “clean” as Harvest or After the Gold Rush is, although Zuma is relatively clean, in my opinion. For Tonight’s the Night, we didn't consider the technical details. We tried to recreate a mood.

Q: But you recorded Tonight’s the Night before On the Beach. Yet there is an obvious tragic progression from Time Fades Away to On the Beach and to Tonight’s the Night?

NY: Time Fades Away is the album I released after touring with the band that was supposed to include [Crazy Horse guitarist] Danny Whitten. But he died a little before we went out on the road. That’s the reason I don’t play any of these songs anymore. These three albums like the others reflect my life, its happy moments, its moments of depression. But after Harvest, I was tired of being myself, always remaking the songs on stage from this album and becoming kind of a John Denver. I couldn’t stay in this state, so I wanted to destroy this idea that I had of myself.

Q: What’s your reaction to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s attack on their song “Sweet Home Alabama?”

NY: Oh, that’s okay, I was glad to hear that. It’s like a folk song, that’s good. I say one thing, they say another. And both are very good. They are very funky, I like the band (Neil’s tone seems more conciliatory than anything else). I think we have almost the same point of view. They’re like a distorted image of a “redneck.” We’re two sides of the same coin and that’s what they’ve done here. It was not a personal attack. I represent something. I represent the hippie position for whom the redneck is bad. And they represent the rednecks for a moment and then take the other side. That’s the whole story.

Q: Do you think they represent a real change in southern mentality? Aren’t there long-haired rednecks?

NY: There will always be rednecks of one kind or another anyway. I think the hippie and the redneck are very close to each other. The hippie and the farmer are both natural elements.

Q: Listening to your songs (“Southern Man,” “Alabama”) you have the impression that you are dealing more with a young person from the south than a young Canadian, in the way you feel so forcefully this kind of rupture in this southern mentality. What are the origins of this contact with the south?

NY: My grandfather was a southerner…an old guy with red hair. It was at the beginning, then I met the people down there. The images burst into my mind. I read the newspapers, the people protesting, the oppression, I understood, then. The most important thing in this song “Southern Man” is not so much the rednecks, the most important is the reason that I sing it for: it’s a white woman sleeping with a black man. This is what infuriates white people, this is the sore spot. The human aspect.

Q: Your political commitment to McGovern, that was quite surprising coming from you.

NY: I think so, too. I went back and listened to this song again and I felt who I was really in there and that I was spreading some energy around. I’m glad I did, because this represents a typical case of mistaken judgment, but a very human error because at the time all of us needed to believe and place our hopes in someone.

(The song Neil talks about is called “War Song,” recorded with Graham Nash…We can also consider After the Gold Rush as an album dedicated to the total democratization of the United States. Even though it came out two years after the Nixon-McGovern fight for the presidency, it represented the urgent mobilization of all American youth.)

Q: More and more, your music seems to reflect the kind of music the Rolling Stones play. You say it in in “Borrowed Tune,” and “Stupid Girl” sounds like a typical Jagger-Richards song.

NY: I love the Stones. When they lost Brian Jones, I dreamed of being a Rolling Stone. I think they’re the best rock’n’roll band out there today. I think Keith Richard [sic] is a great guitarist, a great drummer, a great bass paleyer, and someone will be the new Stone, the band is still excellent. Brian Jones…it was something else.

Q: That’s why you could have replaced him.

NY: That’s right.

Q: Did you feel closer to him?

NY: No more than the others, it’s the group that I love.

Q: You played with Bob Dylan in San Francisco last year…

NY: Yes, it was good. He didn’t have to carry the full weight of the show with me by his side. But I am no longer sure about this. Because with Dylan, on stage, you immediately feel that you are just a part of the whole thing, and not the whole thing.

Q: On what instrument do you mostly compose?

NY: With different instruments. I don’t think the instrument has any influence on the way you compose. What’s important or who has used it before, or when. Like the time a friend handed me a guitar and said, “try this guitar,” I picked up that guitar and spontaneously started playing music that I had never played before, singing words I’d never sung before. I then realized that it just came naturally. I have since stopped trying to compose. I don’t try anymore, I’m waiting. The circumstances are different, but the song eventually emerges.

Q: There is an album that you recorded shortly after On the Beach that never saw the light of day.

NY: Homegrown…yes, it’s in the shed…maybe someday.

Q: There were a few unreleased songs tonight…

NY: They’re all from my new album, there’s “Too Far Gone,” “Like a Hurricane,” “My Country Home,” “It’s Gonna Take a Lot of Love.”

Q: What will be the title of this new album?

NY: Sedan Delivery…but it’s not final…it’s a more positive and romantic album.

Q: What about the one with Stephen Stills?

NY: I’ve already recorded 6 or 7 songs with him.

Q: Do you play as New Buffalo Springfield?

NY: No. That was a joke.

Q: What memories do you have of the Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young [1974] tour, two years on?

NY: Oh…a nice tour…I was alone in my corner most of the time. But maybe it was too heavy, what was going on. The music was good, the people were up to the task. I would like to do it again one more time, I think we’ll do it again someday, maybe this summer. I feel like it’ll be a good time.

Q: Have you decided on anything specific for this?

NY: No. These are just ideas.

(Again, Neil adopts a conciliatory tone).

Q: Do you believe in your astrological sign? You are Scorpio, and…

NY: I think I’ve been on earth before, and I think I will be on earth again, or somewhere else. My life is my last time recorded.

It was then that his manager interrupted our discussion by pointing out that it would be time to leave Neil. In conclusion, Neil, with a knowing smile, and by looking at each one of us: “If I haven’t given more interviews, it is [because] I had nothing to say, and I still have nothing to say. If you listen to this tape, you will only know about it by listening to my music…”

[sickficsies-and-whumpsies]

Hello! may I ask sick kawanishi taichi? because it's actually hard to find his version :"D. He gets his hay fever acting up in class all day and causes a fever and headache. Shirabu take care of him since they're classmates and he looks horrible. Thank you!

Hello!! Now that I think about it, I've never even read Kawanishi content, poor guy. I hope this is similar to what you had in mind~

TW: headache, hay fever, coughing & sneezing.

1.1k words, Gen.

ーーー

The voice of his Chemistry teacher blabbering about the TCA cycle almost lulls him to sleep. His head rests propped up on his hands, elbow on the hard, uncomfortable desk as he blinks, trying to make out whatever's being written on the blackboard. Kawanishi has only taken notes for the first ten minutes of the lecture, before entirely giving up.

His head has been pounding without giving him a break since the previous night, and out of the usual seven hours of sleep he normally gets, he's sure he hasn't actually slept for more than three. Not well, either.

Kawanishi slowly moves his hands to the sides of his head, palms flat on his ears that ache and throb. He hisses under his breath, sniffling, eyes watery.

The room keeps spinning, and his eyelids feel heavy and sore. The ache in his head, ears and chest drowns out everything else.

He doesn't even notice how Shirabu's staring at him from his desk. The setter eyes his friend carefully, and rapidly notices his puffy eyes and his cloth tissue crumpled and indubitably damp with snot.

He returns his attention to the lesson, but not long passes before he's startled by a stifled cough coming from the back of the classroom. Most of his classmates, and even the teacher, only glance at the source of the noise for a split second before going on with their duties.

Yet, Shirabu can't pry his gaze from Kawanishi, who looks more and more in agony with each passing instant. Although he isn't familiar with allergies himself, it's not hard to identify the symptoms.

Headache, runny nose, cough, and tiredness, from the looks of it. He doesn't envy him one bit.

Shirabu recalls that Kawanishi has mentioned being on antihistamine medications, but it doesn't seem that the boy has taken them before coming to school.

"Shirabu-kun!?" 

He startles, snappung around to meet his teacher's annoyed gaze. "Perhaps you should focus on the lesson. I know you can get good grades, however I believe you might learn something from this, too."

The boy nods, bowing his head slightly, cheeks tinged in red. "Y-yes sir, sorry sir!!"

Someone snickers, yet Shirabu pays no mind to anyone but Kawanishi, who's still sniffling and struggling to hold his cough.

As soon as the bell rings, marking the end of those neverending fifty minutes, Shirabu is quick to catapult himself to his friend's desk, crocuhing next to it.

Kawanishi, whose head now lays above his arms, that work as a makeshift pillow, slowly tilts his gaze towards Shirabu, cocking an eyebrow in confusion.

"Kenjirou? What're you...?"

"Did you take your meds today? The antihistamine ones." he asks, pragmatic as always. "You know your hay fever's bad, so why didn't you?"

Kawanishi looks like he's about to say something, but a wet cough cuts him off abruptly. Shirabu timidly reaches out with his hand, rubbing soothing circles on his friend's trembling back while he coughs and sputters helplessly.

The middle-blocker reaches for his water bottle with the hand that isn't pressed against his mouth, and shakes his head, regretting the action as it throbs harder.

"Why not? Did you run out?"

"C-couldn't." Kawanishi replies once the coughing fit comes to an end, "Test later. Meds make me sleepy." 

Shirabu sighs. Right, they have an English test coming up in the fifth period, he'd momentarily forgotten about it.

"Still..." he fumbles for words, "Your health is more important than a test. You look like you can't breathe."

"Th-that's because it's true." Kawanishi coughs, cheeky. Shirabu lets his shoulders sag, just a bit.

"Listen, I'll make you a deal. We still have a bit more than four hours until the test, so how about you take the meds, rest in the infirmary and come back for it later, if you're up to it?"

"W-what aboutー" a sneeze, then another, then a cough, and a groan. "M-my head, fuck..."

Shirabu doesn't even wait for his friend's final answer. He turns to a classmate, explaining the situation and asking her to warn the teacher. Then, he starts to rummage insise Kawanishi's bag, retrieving the meds, and his bottle.

"Let's go, Taichi." he calls, gentle. 

His friend slowly stands, chair screeching against the linoleum, but as soon as he's up, he sways. A hand immediately shoots for the desk, grip tight to steady himself.

Shirabu's got his other arm, a concerned look in his honey eyes.

"You good? Do you need to sit back down?"

"N-no, no, m'fine, just tired." Kawanishi hums, straightening himself. Shirabu still doesn't let go, and the two of them make their way towards the nurse's office.

The walk is painfully slow, Shirabu being forced to stop dragging Kawanishi more than once as the latter doubles over and coughs, or sneezes, or moans in agony.

"You should've stayed in bed."

"You sh-should've let a professional cut your hair."

Shirabu snorts. The fact that Kawanishi's well enough to joke around is a huge relief. Luckily, the infirmary isn't far, and the nurse is kind and quick as he allows them in, instructing Kawanishi to take off his shoes and to loosen his tie before he shows him a free bed.

Shirabu and the nurse exchange a few words, and soon the setter joins Kawanishi, handing him a pill and his water bottle. 

"Here. I told the nurse about your hay fever, but he's said he will have to check your temperature and blood pressure anyway, for safe measure. I'll be back in three hours, to see how you're doing."

Kawanishi swallows the pill. He then turns to face Shirabu, "Thanks, man. Sorry for the h- ha- the hassー" a forceful sneeze cuts him off. 

"It was no hassle. Now rest." he says, offering a kind smile before he leaves the office, Kawanishi fast asleep.

ー ー ー

Shirabu doesn't visit him three hours later. Instead, Kawanishi blinks his eyes open to the warm, tangerine sunlight filtering through the infirmary shutters, and only then he sees his friend walking towards him, his own and Kawanishi's school bags and duffel bags thrown over his shoulders.

"Oh, you're up." he chirps.

Kawanishi frowns, face hurting. "What time s'it?"

"Oh, like, 6:30PM? I let you sleep in, since the nurse said you needed to rest more. Ah, the teacher said that you can take the test once you're well, it's no problem for her." Shirabu says, nonchalantly. "I know you're mad at me for tricking you, so I'm treating you to sukiyaki."

"You think food can solve this?"

"Can't it, though?" Shirabu grins.

Kawanishi's stern expression sobers up a second later. "...I get to pick the place. And I want ice-cream later, my throat hurts."

ー ー ー

Let me know how I did with this one!! And, anon, if you have an AO3 please let me know, so that I can gift this fic to you next week!!

(August 25, 2021)