#I’m still insane about them. I’m just self aware.

[tonystarkisadouchebag]

one thing that I am tired of is the effect that MCU tying Tony to Peter has had on ppls interpretations of Spider-Man. Specifically with his identity. I’m sorry, ppl can write what they want, and I’m not even a big comics person, but the amount of fics where Peter intentionally reveals his identity so he can be an avenger is *exhausting*. Like, even with my basic knowledge I know that this contradicts core elements of Spidey’s character and WHY he wears that mask. If there’s evidence to the contrary in comics or other official media I’d love to see it, genuinely! But I personally just cannot be convinced rn that Peter would just broadcast his identity like that, bc that’s not Spider-Man. Not to me at least. It just takes me out of the story immediately, literally I exit out idc how good the writing is😭

The real kicker is comic Tony isn't great either and before the Iron Man movie no one cared about him or kind of hated him anyway, so the thought of tying the identity of one of the most recognizable and beloved superheroes of all time to your b tier Elon Musk rip off is insane. I'm so glad comic synergy hasn't affected that in the comics as far as I'm aware but, come on.

Far From Home being bogged down with constant mentions of his death, makes it unwatchable. When it comes down to it, their relationship consisted of Tony coercing Peter into fighting Captain America without giving him a chance to form his own opinion on the accords and then was "sassy" (rude) to him until he died.

MCU Peter may as well be someone's self insert OC with how well he represents the mythos of Spiderman. These movies do this a lot but usually with characters the general public would not care about like The Mandarin or Shatterstar (still upset about this one), so it's interesting to see them do this with arguably their most important character. Imagine the new Superman movie came out, and he was suddenly closely tied to Aquaman and considered him his mentor and father figure, and the Kent's are barely mentioned, and John Kent died off screen.

[ssruis]

“Rui & tsukasa are so gay” & they’re not even the gayest ones in their unit. Look at me. I love ruikasa. But just because Rui seems to have made it his personal challenge to be as gay as possible does not mean this gayness transfers to tsukasa.

I think there’s a lot to be said wrt tsukasa’s side of the dynamic and how he’s less obvious with his affection than Rui, and how his behavior with Rui differs from how he acts with others, but that requires analyzation and we know 80% of ruikasa fans aren’t doing that.

Pairings I would say have more textual Gayness going on than ruikasa:

- anhane

- minoharu

- shizuairi

- akitoya

- kanamafu

- mizuena

- emunene

- wxs meiko and luka

- literally every interaction saki has had with a female character ever but especially with the rest of Leo/need

[tobisaw]

Charms I’m making for myself!! I’ll reblog once they arrive :)

[fleurdov]

this update actually broke me how am i supposed to function and act normal when i’m actually only thinking about the horrors of The Answer.

i really really loved this chapter though thank you so much for updating!!!! and now i will scream into the white void!!

THE ANSWER: XXVI

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

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chapter word count: 10,791

“What the hell did you say to Hongjoong?” 

Seonghwa is quick to start grilling you as soon as San leaves the two of you alone, glaring at you across from the dinner table. It takes you a few seconds to even remember what he could be referring to, that conversation with Hongjoong taking the back seat in your mind to everything else that had happened today. 

You set your spoon down, resting your elbows on the table, “I could be asking you the same question.” 

Seonghwa scoffs, mirroring your actions. He leans over the table, though, getting closer to you, “Well I asked first.” 

Frowning, you look him up and down, trying to make him squirm a little bit. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to find you very intimidating. In fact, he only leans closer to you, his face basically taking up your entire field of view. “What did Hongjoong say that I said?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes flit to your lips, but you pretend like you don’t notice. “He said that you told him we had sex. Among other things.” 

“I said no such thing,” you glare back at him, “I only heavily implied it.” 

“Why?” Seonghwa wets his lips, “do you want to get me in trouble, Princess?” 

You don’t want to be the one to back down from this confrontation, but being this close to Seonghwa without him touching you might actually make you insane. His stupid fucking hot ass fucking face. It’s too distracting. 

But��� you’re more stubborn than you are uncomfortable. “Only if you want to get me in trouble.” He smiles a bit at that, but you continue, “if you must know, though, I had to use you as a bit of a scapegoat. I figured you wouldn’t mind, considering the lies you’re telling him about San and me.” 

“Lies?” Seonghwa says sarcastically, “what ever would I lie about?” The question is clearly rhetorical.

But you answer it anyway. “You told him that San and I are together.” 

Seonghwa’s smile grows, “and is that a lie? Aren’t you?” 

“Frankly, it’s not Hongjoong’s business, and it’s not yours, either.”

He brings a hand up to rest under his chin, shrugging his free shoulder. “Difference of opinion. Why should I lie to Hongjoong for you?” 

“Well, San and I aren’t together,” you shrug as well, hoping he’s not picking up on the fact that you’re lying through your teeth. It’s actually a bit… uncomfortable to lie about it like this. You don’t want to have to deny… whatever it is that you have going on with San, but that’s just how it is. You suck it up and hope that Seonghwa can’t see your internal battle as you spit the words out.

Seonghwa bites his lip, “is that so? So he wouldn’t mind if I…” 

You do lean back, then, smacking his elbow out from under him so that his head falls, hopefully shocking him back into reality. “You wish, pervert.” 

He catches his head before he actually hits it on the table, gaping at you, his eyes wide as if he can’t believe that you really just did that. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised that you did it, too. Seonghwa is so fucking tempting. But you’re stronger than that…

“Plus, what would he think,” you tip your head in Hongjoong’s direction, not surprised to see him already staring directly at the two of you. He had been congregating with some of the Followers, but his attention is now clearly occupied, a sneer appearing on his face when he catches you looking. “He already thinks we had sex, no?” 

Seonghwa looks back over his shoulder to glance at Hongjoong, quickly spinning back to face you when he sees the look on his leader’s face. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. I had the time of my life trying to explain that I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.” 

You shrug, “I needed some way to get his mind off of the fact that someone told me about Haneul. It worked.” 

His eyes really go wide, then, “Haneul? Who the fuck told you about Haneul?” 

“You did.” You smile, finally picking your spoon back up to eat some more of your soup. This is a damn good soup, you have to remember to compliment Wooyoung on it… if you guys are on speaking terms. You’re not sure about that. 

Seonghwa groans, also resuming eating his dinner. “I’m going to get my ass handed to me, Princess. Why wouldn’t you just tell him the truth?” He pauses, dropping his spoon back into his soup, “ wait, let me guess. San told you?” 

You shake your head, taking another bite, ignoring his eyes.

“Who else have you been alone with?” 

You shrug again, just to piss him off. 

It doesn’t work. “When San attempted to help Haseul with the escapade last night, did he have someone watch you?” Seonghwa smiles in disbelief. “He really covered his bases. Who was it?” He searches your face as if the answer will be plastered on it. 

It might be, frankly. “It had to have been Wooyoung. Am I right, Princess? Wooyoung watched you? And told you? How on earth did you get that out of him?” 

Staying silent, you opt to keep eating your soup. Wooyoung is the obvious choice, looking at the people that San is close enough to trust with such a secret, so it makes sense that Seonghwa would be able to guess him so easily. But you’re not about to tell Seonghwa that he’s right, so you do your best to keep your face plain. 

“Oh, this is quite fun information. What else did he tell you? Did you see his back?” 

That must be what Wooyoung had been referring to, where his scars are. But, again, you’re not going to ask questions or make Seonghwa believe that he’s right. The last thing that you want to do is throw Wooyoung under the bus for spilling cult secrets that he clearly shouldn’t have. 

Seonghwa leans closer again, whispering, “if I promise to not tell Hongjoong, will you tell me? I’m very curious.” 

You also lean in closer, putting your spoon down once more, “absolutely not. But will you tell me about Haneul?” 

He rolls his eyes, leaning back into his original position. “No, I won’t. She’s quite a sore subject around here.” 

… Yeah, you could’ve guessed that. “Can you at least tell me about Jongho and her?” 

“No?” Seonghwa looks at you like you’ve really lost your mind, “that’s not your business, Princess.” 

“Oh, so their relationship isn’t my business, but my relationship with San is yours?” 

“So you admit to having a relationship with San, then?” Seonghwa smirks, pleased to have finally gotten something out of you.

You sigh, “if you’re jealous, you can just say so.” 

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “why on earth would I be jealous of Choi San? If I wanted you so badly, you would be with me.”

You try to make yourself look disgusted at the mere prospect, “that’s bold, even for you.” You say this like the two of you had never been intimate. 

Seonghwa shrugs, looking you up and down before leaning closer once more. “If anything, I’m jealous of his ability to disregard Hongjoong’s orders.” The meaning of this admission isn’t lost on you.

You can’t resist returning the look, letting your eyes linger on the way the sleeves of his shirt strain around his biceps. Personally, you don’t give a damn about Hongjoong’s “orders,” but you’re not about to let Seonghwa win this by giving into him. And you have San to worry about. You lean in closer as well, smiling at Seonghwa. 

“You’re a pervert,” you whisper, keeping the smile plastered on your face. 

Seonghwa smiles, too, despite scoffing at your comment, “that’s really cute, coming from you, Princess.” 

“What is?” San’s voice appears from your side, making the both of you jump backward from each other. 

Seonghwa keeps the nasty smile on his face, looking up at San, “perfect timing, San. If you’d left her alone with me any longer…”

San gives you a puzzled look, sliding onto the seat next to you. He doesn’t get himself a meal, which is… a little strange, but you ignore it, going back to eating your own. 

He ignores Seonghwa’s comment easily. “I couldn’t miss the announcement, could I?” San asks Seonghwa, smiling tightly across the table. 

“Announcement?” You ask, looking between the two of them.

Seonghwa holds a hand up before San can start explaining. “You’ll see, Princess.” He smiles at you like you’re not going to like this announcement at all. “But, San, pray tell, where did you just run off to?” 

San gives you a sideways glance, and you can only imagine that he probably was doing something that you wouldn’t exactly care for. “I had a conversation that needed to be held, privately.” 

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows, “is that so? What ever about? Whomever with?” He asks these questions as if he knows perfectly well their answers, but wants to hear San admit it anyhow. “Why couldn’t your dear (Y/n) be in attendance?” 

You honestly aren’t really sure what San means, but the only explanation that you can think is… he apologized to Mingi? That would honestly make you rather happy, though, so you’re not sure why he wouldn’t want to say it in front of you. Maybe Seonghwa truly doesn’t know, and he wants to keep it that way? You’re honestly not too bothered by the fact that he doesn’t want to say. 

Before San can respond, the cafeteria falls completely silent. 

You twist in your seat to face the front of the room, not at all surprised to see Hongjoong standing there, his hands folded behind his back. He still has that weird outfit on, the ties of the robe dangling down, brushing against his knees with each small movement he makes. 

He looks to you, then, giving you a sideways smile before turning back to address the room. 

“It is with great joy that I make this announcement tonight.” The cafeteria is just as silent as the chapel. You look around, not at all surprised to see that not a single pair of eyes aren’t on Hongjoong. “Finally, we are prepared to start our harvest season.” 

A gentle applause starts, much like the kind you would expect at some sort of… gala, or something. Hongjoong holds a hand up and it immediately halts, everyone in the room once again waiting with baited breath. “Of course, this indicates the start of prosperous times for our group,” he gives you another glance, “but it also invites upon us some of the most troublesome ceremonies and events, as well as opening the door to… unwelcome possibilities.” 

… Yeah, whatever the hell that means. 

“As harvest will commence in the morning, our first event will happen during our morning gathering. I expect everyone to be in attendance, including children and those otherwise excused. It’s important that we are united as a group, as you all very well know.”

Everyone? Does that include Haseul? Surely it does, even if she hasn’t had a Choosing Ceremony. You want to believe that you’ll get to see your friend, but… You’re not sure. Hongjoong probably will keep her from you as long as he can; keep you on his little leash until he’s decided that you’re obedient enough again.

He waits, holding the attention of the room for a second longer, a tense look on his face. “You all must know that I don’t say these things to scare you. But the harvest season is trying for the Sign, and our connection is in peril every second that…” Hongjoong clears his throat around the words. “That we leave it unguarded. Those participating in the morning ceremony will be notified tonight.” 

With that, he turns away from the center of the cafeteria, eyes locking onto your table. Conversation picks back up as he strides toward the three of you, a smile replacing the tenseness. 

“Let me guess,” you say to neither Seonghwa nor San in particular, “I’m about to be notified of something?” 

Seonghwa smirks, “you can be so bright sometimes.” 

“(Y/n)!” Hongjoong calls your name when he’s a few feet away, closing the distance enough to rest a hand on your shoulder before asking, “Are you excited for your first harvest?” 

You blink up at him, amazed that he still even bothers, “you just made it sound like something to be weary of, rather than excited for.” 

He shrugs, squeezing your shoulder once before releasing you to sit next to Seonghwa. “We haven’t covered the Guardians yet.” 

“The what now?” 

Hongjoong waves his hand in the air to dismiss your question, “you’ll learn in due time.”

For a second, you think that Seonghwa even rolls his eyes, but that would be truly unfathomable. You’re happy enough to write off whatever the fuck the ‘Guardians’ are. The last thing you want right now is another lesson in cult lore.

“Anyhow,” he clasps his hands, resting them on the table. “You’ll be participating in the ceremony tomorrow. Its a fun one, too.” 

You look at San, though he’s looking anywhere but at you. Turning back to Hongjoong, you ask, “do I get to know what this ceremony entails ahead of time, or are you going to surprise stab me again?” You’re honestly surprised by how bold you feel, given everything that’s happened. Maybe seeing him cry reduces him a little bit… no, that’s not it. Whatever it was, you’re just not feeling particularly intimidated by Hongjoong at the moment, surprisingly.

Hongjoong waves a hand in the air, “there’s no need to be so dramatic, (Y/n).”

Honestly, you still think it was a fair question. But you feel lucky that he’s clearly in the bantering mood as well.

“You’ve already been Chosen; you won’t have to prove yourself again,” San offers, albeit rather quietly and more so to himself than to you. 

“I feel that its best that you’re prepared for the ceremony,” Hongjoong ignores San’s comment, “Seonghwa can cover it with you.” 

Seonghwa jerks his head toward his leader. “I can? I thought I wa—”

Hongjoong smiles, stopping Seonghwa in his tracks. “You’ll do as I say.”

He only nods in response, turning away from Hongjoong. To your relief, he doesn’t lay a glare on you once more, returning to his meal instead. 

“San, let’s talk privately for a moment,” Hongjoong rises, beckoning San to follow him. San furrows his brows, but stands anyway, following Hongjoong until they’re out of earshot from your table.

You turn your attention back to Seonghwa. “Let me hear it.” 

He drops his spoon again, looking annoyed at the prospect of having to spend anymore time with you. “I need a copy of The Answer to properly explain it.” 

“You’re telling me you don’t keep one on yourself at all times?” 

Seonghwa blinks at you. Leaning back, he unbuttons his jacket, reaching a hand to the inside pocket. Low and behold, he pulls a copy of The Answer from the interior pocket, gently placing it onto the table between you two. 

You had been half joking. 

He buttons his jacket again, sliding his tray away from himself. Wordlessly, he picks up the book, flipping to the back pages before landing on whatever page he was searching for. He turns his wrist, showing you the page.

Highlighted in yellow and underlined maybe five times is the title:

HARVEST PRACTICES

The chapter that follows is broken into a few different sections, from what you can see on the pages in view. The first subtitle reads:

INVOCATION AND PROTECTION

“Your hand is shaking too much for me to read that,” you complain, grabbing the book from Seonghwa’s hands. You slide your own tray away, setting the book on the table to read. 

The text continues.

Perhaps one of the most strenuous times a year comes during harvest season. Though the crop can be bountiful and the blessings many, there are also dangers that follow. This implicates the necessity to instate a protective guard around our group; a ward to protect ourselves so as to protect our Clones. 

On the first day of the harvest, the following ceremony must be conducted to insure safety throughout the season. The steps are outlined here; however HONGJOONG may adapt these provisions as he sees fit per the requirements of the year. 

Typical ceremony regalia should be worn by all Followers. Ten Followers are chosen at random to participate in the ceremony.

Participation is mandatory once selected; certain Followers may be required to participate every year due to their given role in Universe One. 

At 6 A.M. The ceremony begins. The ten Followers link hands in a circle.

They recite the following incantation, taking three steps to the left following each break.

On this day we make our vow.

The Answer is near; we shall not wonder or fear.

I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew

The barrier is weak.

United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.

Following the incantation, each member shall raise their hands. The ceremonial blade is presented, and each Follower shall gently open their left palm, letting the blood drop into the center of the circle while reciting:

I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.

At the completion of each vow, the final words will be said:

We call upon you to stay away.

The Sacrifice will then be presented. It is to be left on the altar for one day.

This is the conclusion of the ceremony.

This ceremony is not infallible. Should trouble arise before, during, or after, HONGJOONG and designated Followers will resolve the issue. 

You stop reading, looking up at Seonghwa. “Sacrifice?”

He nods. 

“That’s, like, pretty cliche,” you frown, “and that rhyme sucks.” 

“Be more respectful.” Seonghwa mirrors your frown, “Hongjoong isn’t a poet, he’s a prophet.” 

“Really? I thought he was God?” 

Seonghwa only gives you a more exasperated look, rolling his eyes.

You scan over the ceremony again, trying to make sure you’re getting the details correct. “What’s this about ‘calling the evil towards me?’ And the blood? Is that really necessary?” 

He glances over your shoulder, a relieved expression gracing his features, “San, you have a knack for perfect timing today.”

You turn to look back and, sure enough, San is approaching your table again. 

San looks between you, Seonghwa, and the copy of The Answer in your hands, putting the pieces together. “Questions?” 

“A few,” you mutter, suddenly not very interested. You don’t mind pestering Seonghwa for answers to all of your questions, but you aren’t keen on asking San the same way. “But it can wait. What did Hongjoong want?”

San takes his place next to you again, shrugging as he does so. “He was just letting me know the plan for tomorrow.” 

Seonghwa reaches for his book, plucking it out of your hands before you can respond to San. “I trust you won’t be needing my copy, anymore.” 

Resisting the urge to mock him, you respond to San instead. “Such as…?”

“When to be there, how to help you dress, so on.” 

So on… Why does it feel like there’s a lot more emphasis on the ending of that list? They had been gone for a good five minutes, there had to be more than that, surely. Why wouldn’t San tell you the whole truth? What good would that do for him? 

You stay quiet, trying to ignore your suspicions. If you can’t trust San, who can you trust? 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

It turns out that you have to wake up significantly more early than usual.

San shakes you awake at four, ignoring your pleas for five more minutes. “I waited as long as I could, (Y/n).” 

You grumble and moan, but find it in yourself to get out of bed. For Haseul. That’s what you tell yourself. All of this is for Haseul. Your cooperation is for her. Had she not been here, you’d be kicking and screaming the whole way. 

But, unfortunately, Hongjoong figured out how to play you like a damn fiddle. So here you are, tugging on the same black dress pants that you had put on… what, three weeks ago? A month ago? Longer? You have no idea. 

You manage to button your shirt correctly this time, though your face burns at the memory of Seonghwa having to help you dress. What had happened to you? You never would have thought that the day would come where you would voluntarily wear this… cult regalia. 

San watches, already fully dressed by the time that he woke you up. You have to admit that he looks handsome in all black, the clothes clearly tailored to fit him. Two or three silver necklaces hang down his chest, matching rings gracing his fingers. He hasn’t put his mask on, yet, or his hat, leaving his features exposed in the security of your apartment. 

“Let me help,” he offers, squatting to his knees to help you tie your boots as you pull them on. He ties your right shoe as you tie your left, lacing them with the deftness of well-trained hands. 

Of course, he finishes before you do. He takes over tying your left shoe, smiling up at you as you yield the laces to him. “Thank you.” 

He only pats your knee, standing back up and offering his hand to you. You take it and rise as well, glancing at the clock. 4:29. 

The ceremony starts at 6. You’re not really sure why you have to be in positions so early, but… whatever. You’re not going to fight it. You can do this, you’re sure of it. For Haseul, you’ll do it. 

San opens the wardrobe, grabbing your two hats off of the top shelf. Had you ever noticed them sitting there? You’re not sure. Maybe someone had brought them in. 

He hands you yours, swirling his around on his finger instead of putting it on. “How are you feeling?” 

You put the hat on. “Fine.” 

“You sure?” He sounds genuine enough, and you don’t doubt that he’s at least a little worried for you. And, obviously, given the circumstances with Haseul… 

“I just hope I don’t fuck up.” 

San frowns, reaching for your hand. You let him take it. 

“Everything will be fine,” he promises, rubbing your hand with his. “It’ll be over before you know it!” 

Forcing a smile, you nod. He’s probably right. If you just grit your teeth and bare it, the whole thing will be over as quickly as you can say the stupid little incantation. There’s no reason to be afraid or worried. 

… That’s what you really want to believe. But you can’t bring yourself to think that it will actually be that easy. Something is going to happen. Something bad. You’re sure of it, now, in this moment. You’re more sure of it than anything else. 

Hongjoong won’t just let this happen. He won’t just let this pan out easily. He has something planned, and you’re sure that it’s something terrible…

The sacrifice mentioned in the steps… you had never had the chance to ask about it. Something is going to happen then, you’re sure. At the moment of the sacrifice or the moment that it’s presented, it’s going to be something beyond even your imagination. 

Hongjoong’s insanity knows no bounds, and that is something that you know for a positive fact. He can’t just have something go well or normally when you’re involved. He will have to stick his fingers in the pie, have to meddle to make something happen. 

Your stomach flips as you consider the possibilities. You suddenly feel woozy. 

“Hey,” San calls your attention back to the moment at hand, grabbing your other arm with his free hand. “Are you alright?” 

You blink at him, “Just a little lightheaded is all.” 

“Do you want something to eat?” He starts to pull you toward the kitchenette, but the thought of eating only makes your stomach feel heavier. 

Planting your feet, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

You’re not lying. If something is going to happen (when something is going to happen), you would rather just have it be done and have it be over. 

Whatever it is, you’re sure that you can survive it. You’ve made it this far without losing your wits or dying, you’re sure that you can make it through a ten minute ordeal. Even if it is particularly nasty or horrible. 

Fuck, you just hope the sacrifice isn’t a person. You’re, like, sixty percent sure that it won’t be, but… that forty percent is still a question mark. At least you know it won’t be you. 

That’s probably not the right mindset. But, hey, that’s life, isn’t it? 

San looks between you and the clock, looking disappointed. “I guess we don’t really have time, anyhow. I’m sorry.” He apologizes, dropping his hands from you. 

You brush off the apology, following him as he leaves the room and approaches your door. 

“You’re sure that you’re okay?” San asks again, pausing by your front door. “I can make up some excuse if I have to.” 

You don’t have to force a smile, this time. “I’m going to be fine as soon as this is over.” 

He nods in acceptance, opening the door and holding it open for you.

The two of you head to the chapel in silence, other Followers wearing their all-black regalia crowding the hallways and stairwells. A few people smile and wave at you, though you can’t really say that you recognize them. 

As you squeeze through the halls, you wonder where Haseul is being kept. In one of the single rooms, you’re sure, but which one… 

You almost have the urge to start knocking on every door on the women’s floor, jangle each doorknob and greet each person until you find her…

But that would be silly, and you know that. You’d only be punished if you went looking for her. Worse, she would probably be punished for your stupidity, too. 

That’s not going to happen. 

So you fight the feeling, just as you fought your panic. Your stomach is still a wreck as you follow San. You don’t hold his hand, not in public, but you wish that you could grab him for some semblance of comfort. 

He would take your hand if you tried, you realize. Clearly, he doesn’t have much of an issue speaking about your relationship, at least with Mingi. 

The memory of their argument brings a sour expression to your face. You’re still not very pleased with how San had acted, or with how Mingi had, either. Even after the apology… 

And San never confirmed that he apologized to Mingi. Well, you had never asked him. 

But whatever. That has to be a problem for another day, for another you. Or at least for the you of three hours from now. You can’t go into this being pissed at basically the only two people that you like here. 

That doesn’t give much credit to Nayeon or Yunho or Wooyoung or Yeosang, you realize, but whatever. You don’t need to be debating who your friends are and who your friends aren’t.

After what happened with Wooyoung, anyways, would you really consider him a friend? Had you really processed any of what he had told you? What the fuck.

Your head swims with the reality of everything that has been happening to you in the past couple days. You’ve experienced enough goddamn trauma to let Dr. Phil run another 12 seasons on you alone. Fucking hell. Literally what the fuck.

You finally reach the big doors, relishing the feeling of stepping into the cool outside air. The hallways had been stuffy with the weight of all of the Followers, and the sudden breeze is refreshing; especially given your fucking outfit. 

The sun hasn’t even poked above the horizon, yet. You wouldn’t even call it dawn. But you don’t have to squint to make out the chapel in this distance. 

The sea of Followers in front of you lead the way to the holy place, a swarm of black across the farm. 

You wonder how many of them there really are. If Hongjoong said that everyone had to attend this ceremony… fuck. There’s a lot of people. Just the people you can see outside seem to outnumber what you would have originally thought. 

How in the world had Hongjoong recruited so many people? 

How many of these people actually believed every word that he said? You’d have to assume most of them. What would they do to make him happy? To keep him happy? 

The thought sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine, only making your stomach worse.

The walk isn’t long, and you soon find yourself passing the doors that are being held open by the swarm of people crowding through them. 

It’s fuller than you’ve ever seen it, the chapel. Some people are already seated in the pews, chatting with their peers. The majority of the Followers, however, are still standing, mingling in the aisle.

You follow San’s lead, presuming that he’ll take you wherever you need to be. He goes about halfway to the front of the chapel, stopping in a less-populated area of the aisle in what you assume is an attempt to make you calmer. You’re not sure that it helps, but you appreciate the gesture, anyhow.

You wonder who the other Followers that were chosen for the ceremony are. Will anyone that you know be up there to comfort you? It probably wouldn’t make a difference, but at least one familiar face would be welcome. 

As you glance around the room, you find your eyes tugging toward the Sign of the Answer, the huge one on the wall. Hongjoong’s chair is gone in preparation for the ceremony, so you’re able to see it in all of its glory. Per usual, the chapel is lit by candles, and the light glints off of the Sign exactly how you remember it looking the night that you had been Chosen. The memory makes you more nervous.

San puts a hand on your arm, calling your attention back to him. You glance at his face first, only to see him looking ahead as someone approaches. For a split second, you’re worried that its going to be Mingi. 

But it’s only Wooyoung, you realize. 

He stops in front of you, two glasses in his hands. “Hello,” he greets you, looking between the two of you.

San returns the hello, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Something about the sight of him disturbs you. And the glasses in his hands.

He gets straight to business.

“Drink this,” Wooyoung holds out a champagne glass filled with something that is decidedly not champagne. Instead of sparkling, yellow liquid, this is a flat, blood red. 

You hesitantly take the stem, tilting the glass to watch the liquid move. Thankfully, it doesn’t actually seem to be blood. You take a sniff, not all that surprised to smell the familiar red wine scent. 

“It’s just wine. For the nerves.”

Shrugging, you take a sip. He’s not lying, but… “Last time you fed me in this room you also drugged me.” 

Wooyoung mirrors your shrug. “Don’t drink it then.”

You glance at San, who also shrugs. 

“Well fuck it, then.” In an action reminiscent of your college days, you down the glass; ignoring the bitterness as best you can. 

Wooyoung takes the glass back from you. “Good luck, then.” 

He excuses himself, wandering back into the crowd with the other glass. You assume that he’s handing them out to all of the participating Followers, but you opt to stop watching him to look back at San.

“Do you think that was drugged?” You ask San, rubbing your palms on your jacket. 

His eyes go wide, “I wouldn’t have let you drink it if I thought it was!” 

“I’m not sure I trust Hongjoong that much.” 

“I do.” San puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently. His words don’t offer you any comfort, but the hand is pleasant enough.

Well, you’ll know soon enough, anyhow. Maybe this would all go a lot more smoothly if you were drugged, somehow. Your heart feels like a damn jackhammer in your chest.

You try to look around, wanting to spot any familiar face in the crowd for any sense of comfort. It’s just so damn hard with everyone dressed like the fucking grim reaper. You think that you spot Nayeon, briefly, her long brown hair contrasting beautifully to the fitted black of her coat. 

Yunho is hard to miss, his height only exaggerated by the hat atop his head. You’re not entirely sure where you stand with him, though, given your place with Mingi. If Mingi’s still pissed at you (which, to give him credit, you’re not sure if he is), Yunho probably is too. 

Speaking of Mingi, he approaches Yunho, his own height rather hard to miss in the crowd. He grabs his friend’s shoulder, exclaiming something that’s a bit too quiet for you to make out. But you know Mingi’s voice when you hear it. 

After this, you have to talk to Mingi. Even though you might be a little… upset? Disappointed? At his outburst and his childish behavior, you have to make things right by him. Yunho, too, you suppose. 

You still hold out hope that Haseul will make an appearance, though you’re sure Hongjoong made arrangements to keep her away. Though… if Mingi is here, who's watching her? It probably wouldn’t be hard to find someone else, but someone else that Hongjoong trusted that much… that’s a different story. You know that you should probably just drop it, but there’s something in you that feels like she’ll show up… you certainly have a lot of feelings, this morning. 

A hand wraps around your elbow, startling you. You don’t have to look to recognize Hongjoong, his touch alone enough to identify him, burning hot even through your jacket.

“(Y/n),” he purrs, holding you close to him, “how are you feeling?” 

You try to pull your arm away, to no avail. “Like I’m going to be sick.” 

Hongjoong laughs, “you’ll be completely fine. You’re not the sacrifice.” 

That doesn’t do anything to calm your nerves. That’s not what you’re worried about. And you’d rather not have to play one of his stupid games. “I have a sense that some anvil is about to fall on my head.” 

“Hmmm,” he hums, “maybe. Maybe not. It depends on what you’re picturing.”

“I’m picturing what you wrote in The Answer.” You force the words out through gritted teeth. It’s so fucking annoying when he does this; when he doesn’t just speak his mind. You’d much prefer him telling you that, yeah, you’re about to be grievously harmed than have him just dangle the thought in front of your eyes.

“Well, either way, I’m sure you understand what will happen if you disrupt the ceremony.” Hongjoong’s voice is laced with that sickening smile of his, “or if you fail to complete your part in it.” 

He’s right, he doesn’t need to remind you in the slightest. You can only imagine the fear that Haseul is in right now, but your own fear for her must be ten times worse. The idea of Hongjoong putting his hands on her makes your gut churn.

The fact that he backed you into such a perfect corner is almost sickening. It pisses you off to no end. Why did he have to bring her into this? Not that you would want him to use this treatment on Mingi, but, like, fuck, he at least already had him here. Was it really necessary to involve a completely innocent girl? 

If you didn’t care what happened to her, you might just spit in the man’s face at this very second. 

“I get it, Hongjoong.” 

“Then you’ll do great!” He releases your arm, opting to pat your shoulder a couple times. “Simply stick to the outline. Do your part. And it’ll be over quickly.” 

You take a deep breath, “Hongjoong,” you hope that saying his name will make him listen to you, “can I see her, afterword?” 

His hand stops on your shoulder, squeezing. “Let’s see how you fare, first.” His voice seems harder with these words, more sharp. Hopefully that wasn’t some sort of huge overstep to him. 

He cuts off the conversation at that, leaving your side to rejoin the crowd of Followers. He’s wearing the same outfit he had been wearing yesterday, the shiny material catching the light of the candles ever so as he moves. 

“San,” you turn toward where San was standing, only to find him gone. You whirl around in a circle in a way that must look comical, searching for where he could have gone off to. He doesn’t appear to be in your near vicinity, somehow completely, wordlessly disappeared. 

Dread swirls in your stomach. You were going to ask him if he knew what the sacrifice was going to be, finally reminded.

As if commanded by some outside force, the majority of the Followers suddenly stop their conversations. The room falls silent as people make their ways to their usual pews, sliding silently into their seats. 

Per usual, you’ve been left out of the loop. 

Without San to guide you into place, you really have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing. You look toward the front of the chapel, expecting to find Hongjoong glaring at you, but not even he is there to tell you what to do. 

Looking around to the other Followers that are still standing, you’re mildly surprised to see Yunho only a couple feet away. He catches your eye, tipping his head toward the front of the room in signal. He starts walking, so you start walking. 

You’re hyper aware of the sound of your footsteps on the wood floors, your boots clicking with each step. Yunho’s do, too. The steps are the only sound in the chapel. 

With bated breath, you reach the front of the room. You glance toward your usual pew, hoping to see San sitting in your spot. He’s not, however, only making the rock in your stomach that much heavier. 

Yunho steps up onto the little stage, offering you his hand to help with the step up. You take it, joining him and turning toward the congregation of Followers. From this angle, you can see… it takes you a second to count the heads… eight other Followers approaching the stage. You try to find Hongjoong among them, but he’s not there. Neither is San.

After what feels like forever, Yunho and yourself are joined by the others. You read this part, you feel okay about it. Well, not okay okay, but, like, you know. At least you know what to expect. 

Yunho grabs your left hand, as someone you can’t recall the name of takes the place to your right; taking that hand into theirs. 

The ten of you link into a circle, hand-in-hand. 

You had kind of expected there to be more guidance from Hongjoong in this process. A narration or a sort of sermon over the top of your actions, but Hongjoong remains unseen and unheard as the Followers around you start their recitation. 

“On this day we make our vow,” you don’t jump into the speech until the next sentence, unsure of how they knew that it was time to start. “From henceforth we pledge ourselves.”

You take three steps to your left. The Sign of the Answer twinkles in your peripheral vision. The Followers in the pews have their heads bowed. 

“The Answer is near. We shall not wonder or fear.” 

Three more steps. 

“I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew.” 

Three more steps to the left. This time, you almost step on Yunho’s toes. You try to look at the other Followers in your circle, but their heads are similarly bowed. You look back down at your feet. You’re lightheaded. 

“The barrier is weak.”

Your hands float upwards, along with the rest of the circle’s. Still connected, everyone’s hands hang in the air of the center of the circle. 

“United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.” 

Someone, you’re not sure who, breaks the circle first. Your eyes are closed, you realize. You open them only when Yunho’s hand leaves your own; barely hearing his hushed whispering at your side. Before you know it, the knife is in your own hands. 

It’s already sparkling with blood. At least Yunho’s. The lowlight makes it hard to see, but the Sign of the Answer does a beautiful job of illuminating just enough to reawaken your nausea. What the fuck is happening, right now? What the fuck are you about to do?

Yunho’s blood drips down the blade and onto your hand. It’s warm. 

You’re sure that you’re going to faint. 

But you hold the blade to your left hand, anyways, saying the words as quietly as you can. Surely, this is all just some batshit insane cult ceremony, but the weight of speaking them outloud is still sickening. 

“I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.” 

You swipe the blade across your palm, handing it off to the Follower next to you as fast as you can manage. You close your eyes again. Your hand burns. You almost think that you can hear your blood, dropping from your palm and hitting the floor.

At some point, the last person finishes. The knife clatters to the floor, the only sound in the chapel. You know to take three more steps to the left. And to finish the words. 

“We call upon you to stay away.” 

The scream makes you open your eyes. 

Disorientated, you realize that you’re facing away from the crowd, staring directly at the Sign. But it’s not glowing anymore. 

You turn around, blinded. Every candle in the chapel has gone out.

Was that the source of the scream? The lights going out? What the fuc—

The door behind the stage slams open. You jump again, spinning back as though you’d be able to see anything, anyhow. 

Someone in the audience wails. 

Are they seeing something that you’re not? Your heart pounds hard, so so hard. Is this panic? The spell? A heart attack? 

You need to sit down. Yunho grabs your hand before you can stumble off of the stage. He pulls you behind him, keeping the arm behind his back to hold you there. 

You fist the back of his coat, probably soiling the material with your blood, but it’s all you can do to keep yourself standing upright. The urge to vomit hits you again, but you prevail, closing your eyes as tight as you can. 

Is this supposed to happen? This wasn’t in the outline. Are you meant to feel like such shit right now?

How did all of the candles go out?

Who the fuck is interrupting? 

Something, or someone, drops in the middle of the circle. 

You open your eyes again, peering around Yunho. The rest of the circle had stayed in place. 

At the center of your circle, now, is a head. 

Not a human head, thank God, but a pig’s. Your stomach still revolts, still tumbling over and over itself as you slide back into your spot in the circle. You clamp onto Yunho’s hand like its the only thing that you’ve ever known, grounding yourself the only way that you can. 

Its still so dark. You close your eyes again

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do now. Is it over? You hope to God that its over. You can’t take another goddamned minute of thi—

You open your eyes at the same instant that Yunho yells. Everything happens so fucking fast. 

Yunho falls backward, off of the stage. You process this secondly. Chiefly, however, your attention is caught by the figure now in front of you, where the pig head had been seconds before. 

It’s huge. You can’t comprehend it entirely, what it is that you’re seeing. It doesn’t even look human. It grabs your now vacant hand, pulling you away from the Followers. 

There’s a collective scream behind you, and you’re not surprised to realize that you’re also screaming. 

You try to look into the face. But it doesn’t have a face. It’s nothing. Is this death? 

You’re falling backwards, now. Before you know it, you’re on the ground, curling in on yourself.

Someone turns the overhead lights on. You cradle your hands to your chest, aware of the fact that you’re crying. The tears are hot on your cheeks. The blood is hot on your hands. The feeling of that, that, fucking thing making you want to retch. 

What the fuck was that? What the fuck? 

Hongjoong appears at your side, his face blurry. From your tears, from the panic? You’re not sure. 

He asks if you’re okay. You can’t answer him. You close your eyes again.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

In your sleep, you see it again. 

Even in this instance, you can’t tell what it is. It’s shaped like a person, but you can’t look directly at it. You know that if you look, it won’t have a face.

In your dream, it’s even bigger than it was. It towers over you, grabbing you over and over, your screaming and begging doing nothing to appease it. 

You can see its hands as they reach, as they latch onto you. They’re white. But they’re not skin. It’s cloth, you realize, gloves. 

The rest of it is white, too. But it certainly doesn’t look like clothing. You couldn’t ever explain it to someone if they asked, and you’re much too terrified to go digging into the details. 

All you know is that it doesn’t have a face. It’s not natural. Every part of you hates every part of this thing. 

You want to wake up.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

And so you do, in the infirmary. 

The first thing you see are the familiar ceiling tiles. The second thing is Hongjoong.

You startle awake, twitching in on yourself as you try to sit up. 

Hongjoong sucks in a breath, though he doesn’t get to his feet to help you. He’s still wearing that outfit. 

You’re still wearing yours, you realize. The pants rub uncomfortably against the blanket laying over you. You’re able to sit up easily enough, and you’re relieved to realize that nothing hurts. You feel fine.

“So, do you believe me now?” Hongjoong asks once you’re up, but he’s not smiling in triumph as you would’ve imagined.

“What the fuck was that thing?” 

Hongjoong sighs, “Exactly what I was trying to protect us from. A guardian.”

You blink at him, dumbfounded. There’s literally no fucking way in hell that Hongjoong has been right about any of this. He’s insane. He is fully, entirely, batshit insane. 

You can’t explain away whatever the fuck just happened, but you’re not about to accept that he’s been telling you the truth. That there are alternate universes and demons that can jump between them. That’s not real life. That’s not how the world works. 

Whatever just happened, whatever that was, there’s a reasonable explanation. Surely. 

Though you can’t imagine what that explanation would be, it must exist. The last fucking thing in the world that you’re going to do now is believe in Hongjoong. Like, what the fuck? What the fuck? Why would you fucking believe in a fucking religion that has fucking faceless demons fucking running around freely? You wouldn’t. You refuse. You will not. 

Even if that is the only explanation for the thing in white, you are not going to believe it. You would sooner believe that you have a hallucination disorder than accept that Hongjoong is right about anything. 

Thinking about it, you probably would have to have some sort of psychosis to accept any of this. But, then again, this is exactly the sort of thing that would trigger psychosis… 

You’re thinking way too fucking hard about this. It is simple. Hongjoong is a freak.

“Where’s San?” The question is natural. 

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows, “Interesting follow-up question. I thought it best to separate you two for now.” 

“Why?” 

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he stands up. “How is your hand?” 

You had honestly forgotten about it. Holding it up, you examine your bandage. “Fine.” 

The two of you stay in silence. Hongjoong seems mad. 

“Is that really all you’re going to ask?” He asks, almost sounding whiny. Like a child. 

It’s certainly all you’re going to ask him. He’ll only lie to you. “Can I see Seonghwa?” You ask instead.

Hongjoong scoffs. He brushes his hair back, looking around the room as if he’s expecting some live studio audience to empathize with him. “I know you’re not fucking him.” 

You shrug. “Are you okay, Hongjoong?” 

His face falls flat. He crosses his arms over his chest, turning to fully face you again. “I’m great.” The words are strained. You’ve never known Hongjoong to be a bad liar. 

“You seem kinda pissed.” 

“I am not—” He closes his eyes, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “I’m fine. I’ll have Seonghwa come visit, since you clearly won’t be speaking to me.” He says this like he expects you to apologize. But what the hell would you apologize for? 

Hongjoong leaves without another word once it becomes clear that you won’t be giving him what he wants. You’re sure that he expected more crying, more fear, more begging and pleading for answers. 

You save that for once you’re sure that he’s gone.

Trembling, you pull your knees to your chest. Your fingers twitch with fear, your hair feels foreignly heavy, your wrist burns and burns where the thing had touched you. 

You refuse to believe that it was real. It cannot be real. None of this can be real. There was some trick, some show, some plan that you weren’t privy to. Seonghwa will tell you. He’ll have to tell you. He’s honest, most of the time. He’ll explain it away, he’ll tell you how Hongjoong did it and why it seemed so real. 

Where was its face? 

How had they done that? Where the fact should have been, there was nothing. You couldn’t even say that it was a color. It was a void. An emptiness. There was nothing there. 

The memory makes you dizzy. You lean back against the pillows, praying to God that you’re not going insane. Had you really seen that? You couldn’t have. Because that’s just not something that’s possible. 

If Seonghwa can’t explain this, you might go crazy. You might. What else is there to do? It wasn’t real. But the fear that you’re feeling now certainly is. 

What if it comes back? What if they make it come back? What was it? Where was its face? 

Even though whatever the fuck that was wasn’t real, the memory certainly is. You’re going to be lucky to sleep soundly one night for the rest of your damn life. What the fuck. 

Seonghwa lets himself into the room only a few minutes after Hongjoong had left. 

“You like me so much that you ask for me now?” He smirks, approaching your side. 

His face falls flat when he takes a good look at you. “Stop that. Why are you crying?” 

“Seonghwa.” You feel that it’s quite obvious why you’re crying. 

He only blinks at you. 

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice shakes with the question. 

“I—” He starts, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Its complicated.” 

You cover your face with your hands. “Was it real? Just be honest.” 

You can’t see his reaction to your question, and he doesn’t answer it, either. 

“What was it?” You moan, hardly able to even spit the words out. To basically admit to Seonghwa that you were scared.

“I think it would be better if you talked to Hongjoo—”

“I am not talking to Hongjoong!” 

You take your hands away from your face, needing to look at him. You hate him. You hate him more than fucking anything. Why can’t he just be honest? Why is he Hongjoong’s little fucking doll? Why does he worship him to such a degree when he’s this fucking evil? Where would he draw the line? 

Seonghwa is stunned into silence. He only stares down at you.

“All I can say is that I didn’t know it was going to happen.” 

He looks blurry through your tears, only making you angrier as you recall Hongjoong looking the same way.

“Stop bullshitting me, please, Seonghwa,” you beg. “I think I’ll go insane if you don’t fucking answer me.” 

He turns away from your bed, striding to one of the medicine cabinets in an attempt to look anywhere but your face. He rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead momentarily. 

“What do you want to hear?” He asks, turning back toward you, though he keeps his distance. “Would you rather know what Hongjoong is capable of or would you rather keep the comforting thought that he’s right? Wouldn’t that just be easier for everybody?” 

“You’re saying that Hongjoong can do things scarier than the thought of fucking interdimensional demons being real?” You throw your hands out in front of you, almost yelling in frustration. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! Yes!” Seonghwa matches your tone. “He’s only going to come at you harder. He exists to make you break! Just fucking accept the truth for what he says that it is, and everything will come easily!” 

“I’m not going to do that!” 

Seonghwa laughs bitterly. “I’m sure you believe that, too, Princess.” 

You stare back at him, sure that you look insane. “Can you be genuine for one fucking second?” 

His face contorts into a scowl. “I’ve never been anything but genuine with you. You’re the one that deludes yourself.” He strides back to the door, freezing in the frame. “Is there anything else you wish to fling at me?” 

“I’m taking this to mean that it wasn’t real.” 

“If that helps you sleep at night.” 

Seonghwa leaves. 

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Can you bear some girl time? You’re not sure as Nayeon lets herself in, walking casually into the room as if the literal antichrist of her religion didn’t just make a physical appearance before her. 

“How are we feeling?” She asks, dragging out the vowel sounds in her question. 

“Uhm,” you look at your hand, the only injured part of your body, “fine, I guess.” 

“Perfect!” She smiles, reaching out to put her hand under yours. “The bandage looks fine. I don’t think it’ll reopen.” 

Nayeon had found time to change her clothes. She’s back to her usual farm girl outfit, smiling and happy. 

“Are you alright, Nayeon?” You ask, curious to know what a regular Follower made of what the fuck happened. 

She frowns, and then shrugs, and then smiles again. “I mean, it was, like, a bit scary. But Hongjoong made it go away, and he’s always with us, so it’s not like it can come back to hurt us. I was definitely scared at first, but then he showed up and I knew it would be okay.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly. Nayeon has always been a valuable source of information for you. 

“It was just so valiant; do you remember how he saved you?” She giggles, “he still has it going for you. It’s amazing.” 

You shake your head. “I can’t say that I remember much…” Other than the fucking maw of emptiness. 

“Oh, well I got you.” She pulls up one of her rolling stools, sitting herself down right next to your bed. “So the ceremony went great. Textbook, really. But as it was finishing… I guess I’m not really sure how it happened, either. Like, one second everything was fine, and the next Yunho was on the ground— he’s fine, by the way; wind knocked out of him, but yeah, anyways— and the Guardian was there and everyone was screaming, it was so scary. I guess it grabbed you… and then Hongjoong appeared and it was like his presence just scared it away. I didn’t see what happened exactly… but the next thing I knew you were on the ground and Hongjoong was hollering for my help.” 

She shrugs. 

What you gather from that is that she didn’t see how it got there or how it left. Good signs, probably. She’d certainly remember seeing something… appear out of thin air. You almost want to smile. What a silly thought, that that could have all been real… haha… ha… yeah, funny…

“I see…” You respond, not sure what you’re supposed to say, “how much time has passed?” 

Nayeon looks at her watch, “like, three hours.” 

Great. Perfect, actually. It would be very unfortunate to find out that you had been unconscious for a week again, especially given the circumstances with Haseul. She’s probably already freaking out, but not hearing anything from you for a week… 

Is Hongjoong going to let you see her? After your brush with death? It wasn’t your fault that… whatever happened happened. Like, he planned that, not you. Surely he can’t hold this over your head. If anything, you basically almost just got kidnapped into a parallel universe, he should be treating you very kindly, right? 

Asshole. He’s probably going to bitch and moan for the next week about you not being scared of him. Fucking asshat. 

But… God, ugh, this is all so frustrating. On one hand, you’re pissed at him for, you don’t know, literally everything that he’s ever done to you, maybe? But on the other, you know that you’re going to have to play by his rules to get him to leave Haseul alone. Or, well, at least as alone as he can.

When is she going to have a Choosing ceremony, you wonder? Yours didn’t take very long… 

Well, if he doesn’t let you see her after this, at least you have that to… tentatively look forward to… ew, you don’t even want to be thinking like that. 

Nayeon stands at your side, bringing you back. 

You don’t realize why until you look behind her, only to spot Yunho standing near the doorway. 

He’s changed out of his clothes, thankfully. But just seeing him is enough to flood your mind with the thought of the thing, your stomach lurching over again as he welcomes himself into the room, clearing his throat. 

Nayeon pats his shoulder as she walks past him, excusing herself. Yunho stops at the foot of your bed. 

You have to admit that he might be one of the last people you would have expected to visit you, now. You had been thinking it before everything happened, but you don’t really think he has any lost love for you, given your circumstances with Mingi. 

“Thank you,” you break the silence, forcing the words out before you can think better of them, “for, uhm, trying to help me. And, I mean, actually helping me, too.” You can’t forget that he had kept you standing when the sacrifice was presented. How ruined is his coat?

He awkwardly looks at his hands, which are gripping the rail at the end of your bed. “Don’t mention it.” His voice is so meager that you barely can hear him. 

Yunho doesn’t look up. You’re not sure what else to say. So you speak without thinking, again. “How’s Mingi?” 

He peeks up at you, but then goes right back to staring down. “He’s… uhm, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” 

He pries his hands off of the rail, but then stares at them like he’s unsure that they’re even his hands. Tucking his hands behind his back, he continues, though he still doesn’t look straight at you, “I, uhm, yeah. Mingi is worried about you, and I think his worry came off the wrong way to you and San.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly, and semi-sarcastically. You could’ve guessed that. “He has an interesting way of showing it.” 

Yunho takes a deep breath, “He doesn’t know that I’m here. I just thought that I would try and explain his side of things. From his perspective, he is the reason that you’re here and he feels guilty for that; but he’s also pissed that you’ve gotten close with San so quickly, because he doesn’t like him and he feels like you won’t take his concerns seriously.” 

“I don’t see what there is to be concerned about,” you plainly state, “do you have something against San, Yunho? Any reason at all to believe that Mingi could have reason to suspect that he’s not what he shows me?” 

Yunho startles when you say his name, like someone barely inhabiting their own body. “I mean, no. I think Mingi is probably just projecting his fear onto San, but don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Exactly. So why should I have to cater to Mingi’s ego?” The words sound harsh even as you say them, but its a genuine question. You don’t have much reason to believe that San would ever do anything to hurt you… besides him being someone that Hongjoong clearly trusts, but, like, you’ve been over that a million times before. 

Yunho just shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you would hear me out, since I know it’s hard for you to be alone with Mingi.” He stops his nervous fidgeting, finally looking directly at you. “I wasn’t nice to you because I harbor any sweetness towards you, for the record. I don’t even care that you’re the new object of Hongjoong’s affection. I only tried to help because I knew that, if I didn’t, Mingi would have.” His voice is harder than you’ve ever heard it; a shocking contrast to how he had been speaking just moments earlier. He maintains eye contact with you, his eyes dark. 

You’re the one to look away, this time, disturbed by what he said. What a very random and slightly disturbing thing to say. 

When you look back up at him, Yunho is already nervously looking around the room. His hands are in front of him again as he plays with his fingers. 

“Well,” you clear your throat, “thanks anyways, Yunho.” 

“Yep,” is all he says before leaving your room, basically running. 

… That was strange. Very strange. 

Nayeon doesn’t return. You’re left alone, puzzling over that entire interaction.

What… what was the point of that? Like, okay, sure you can get him wanting to try and vouch for Mingi. But… uhm??? The last part? What? Why was that so ominous? Huh? 

You had never known Yunho to be particularly timid… or… rude… This all is just very weird. Maybe even weirder than the fake demon situation. 

No, scratch that, definitely not any weirder than that. That one is gonna keep you awake for a while. A good while. But Yunho’s behavior was definitely not his usual, which is almost concerning. Almost… only because you suppose that you don’t really know him that well. Maybe he’s only really nice and outgoing to strangers… 

That wouldn’t make sense, either. 

Whatever, you really can’t be worrying about that right now. You have priorities. 

Priorities of which you would list, at least in your head, if San didn’t come barreling through the door the next moment. 

You startle, shocked by his sudden appearance. He’s changed, but he doesn’t look great. His hair is a mess, his lip is split, his shirt is untucked in places.

He reaches out for you, and you reach him halfway, grabbing his forearms as he grabs yours. Wordlessly, he looks over your face hastily, pressing his lips to yours before you can ask what happened. 

Your lips part, and he puts his forehead on yours. “We need to get out of here. As soon as possible.” 

← previous || next → || masterlist

[hazelsmirrorball]

It's Not My Fault You're like In love with me or something | Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY: Y/n L/n new movie is opening new opportunities for her which means she has to do interviews were people can see her "lack of media training" and they start to doubt her relationship with Charles FACE CLAIM: Reneé Rapp pairings: Actress! Reader x Charles Leclerc a/n: I actually enjoyed the new mean girls movie and I am deeply in lov3 with reneé so here you guys go!

via twitter

y/nupdates via instagram

liked by username101, username23, yourusername and 1,390 others.

y/nupdates y/n leaving the after party after taking a tumble

view all comments

username19 now I know why Charles been mia she's literally making a fool out of herself

username123 mother

username12 ngl she ate with that fit

yourusername still can't believe that a fan account is the one that is exposing me

landonorris thanking the gods that the internet and Digital footprints is real

y/n via instagram

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 1,903,290 others

yourusername cast party baby! No one got hurt in the making of these pics

view all comments

username120 okay? but Charles wasn't there?

username19 The paps pictures literally put you on blast

pierregasly I think the moment you took that picture with the champagne was the perfect moment to stop drinking

→ yourusername just looking for the person who asked

username15 the girls are fighting. Please @charles_leclerc come get your girl

→ yourusername Come get your girl @pierregasly

francisca.cgomes you look so so beautiful

username192 Charles not commenting freaks me out

via YouTube

yourusername via instagram

liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, arthur_leclerc and 2,302,290 others.

yourusername mean girls out in theaters now!

view all comments

username21 what? girl after that interview I would've turned the comments off

username12 don't you have media training or something

username19 her pr manager has to work harder than the mclaren one

username160 Mother

username12 it's so hard that the f1 fandom doesn't understand her humor

landonorris since my job isn't that hard Im taking a part time. What do we think about acting

→ yourusername I can send you an email. there an open cast call for dicks

via YouTube

yourusername via insta stories charles_leclerc via insta stories

yourusername via instagram

liked by landonorris, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,292,220 others.

yourusername her lack of media training is outrageous

view all comments

username190 girlie I'm so glad you are self aware about how iconic you are

username12 the girls who get it get it

username14 pls the caption

username280 her lack of media training is what makes y/n y/n

username189 her lack of media training is why we love her

username18 I'm tired of people saying that when it's literally you being yourself. Has no one ever seen her broadway videos?

username19 People saying that Charles can't stand her? hello read the room

username159 exactly! they forget that Charles knows she's like this and that why he loves her so much.

→ username1821 your parasocial relationship is insane

charles_leclerc via insta

liked by landonorris, yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 1,893,356 others.

charles_leclerc on wednesday I wear pink with the girl clumsy girl I feel in love with

view all comments

yourusername love you charlie

landonorris the movie wasn't half bad

arthur_leclerc stream sexy

comment have been restricted

...

Y/n turned to face Charles with a small smile adorning her lips. He mimicked her actions as he placed his phone in  between the two of them. His hand slowly reached towards her face pushing the hair away to get a better look of her eyes. 

“You don’t mind then?” Y/n asked softly her eyes never leaving his to notice if there was any sort of discomfort. He shook his head no, not breaking eye contact. 

“What leaves me surprised is the fact that you think it would bother me. I know you already, I’m aware that sometimes people don’t get your humor but I’ve been long enough with you to understand it” He said slowly pecking your lips to calm you down. You let out a chuckle as you played with his hair. 

“Actually, I was worried that you would have to worry about me beating your ass in F1” Y/n said, throwing her head back laughing. Charles playfully rolled his eyes pushing her shoulder softly, accidentally  knocking her off the bed. 

“Shit sorry!” he quickly got off the bed helping her off “but, you don’t even have your license, so I think you should stick to broadway”

[revelboo]

I love Everything Is Alright sm and GOD i feel so bad for Megatron in such a specific way. Imagine you're in charge of a group of astronauts and they keep running off to go fuck the alien fauna, like bestie I'd be losing my shit too.

That’s pretty much what’s going on. 🤣 Poor guy is having a breakdown over all of his followers being deviants. I feel almost bad about how much fun I’m having in traumatizing Megatron- I swear I really do like him. I just also love making it worse. 18+ content

Everything Is Alright Pt 92

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Choosing to ignore the furious Seeker, Megatron turns his attention to Soundwave and curls a lip. “For Primus’s sake, cover yourself,” he growls. Hand lifting to run over his face, he gestures at Starscream. Hears the Seeker actually hiss at him, wings flared and he ignores that, too. “That isn’t a pet.” Or maybe you are. A pet they frag. It’s not like this mess can get any worse. “Are both of you bonded to it?”

• It?! Spike still buried inside you, he’s aware of your little hands clinging to him. Of your fear and the way the bond amplifies it. “Keep away from my sparkmate,” he snarls. Stiffening as Megatron turns his stare on him, those cruel optics narrowing in calculation. Trying to figure out how to use you against him. To hurt him. Spark aching when you hide your face against his neck. Painfully aware of how fragile you are and that his frame is all that’s shielding you from Megatron’s anger. So it’s a surprise when Soundwave stands and moves between him and Megatron.

• “My sparkmate,” Soundwave says, hating the lie even as he makes the claim. Knows it’s necessary, though. Because if you only belong to Starscream, you’re as expendable as he is. Aware of Megatron’s dislike for the Seeker and that it isn’t wholly unwarranted. Starscream’s deliberately invoked his wrath so many times with so many plots and schemes. So Soundwave lies to keep you safe. And because he wants that, wants to keep you, hold you in his arms. If keeping the self destructive SIC on a leash is the cost, he’s willing to pay it for you.

• Why does it have to be like this? Holding onto Starscream as Soundwave lies to their leader, you just wish suddenly there was somewhere you could run away to with them both. Just the three of you. But you know how incredibly selfish the thought is as soon as you have it. To ask them to leave everything they know just for you? Star’s spark is still connected to you, tendrils of energy snaring you like he’s trying to hold onto you despite the threat looming over him. The feel of him wrapped around you helping calm the terror, because in his arms you want to believe it’ll be okay as foolish as it is. That feeling of safety singing through you despite the danger.

• “Of course, it is,” Megatron mutters. Two of his commanding officers both sparkbonded to an organic alien. The same alien. Why not? It’s not an epidemic of xenophilia, it’s an epidemic of insanity. “I understand having impulses, but this?” Sees Soundwave stiffen slightly as he gestures at Starscream and the human. His communications officer at least having the decency to look slightly embarrassed about it, the Seeker still glaring and defiant. “You understand that just because you’re fragging it, doesn’t mean it changes anything. You’ll bring me the… pet before reporting to your duties.” And he can try to figure out what you’ve done to both of them. Some sort of pheromones? The interfacing can’t just be that good. So, it must be something you’re doing- some strange human mind control making his Decepticons all crazy. And Shockwave can figure it out since Hook is also compromised now.

• “You think I’m going to hand over my mate?” Starscream snarls, ignoring the warning look Soundwave shoots him. So furious he’s shaking as Megatron stares him down. Not again. Please. He can’t just give you to that sadist. Before Megatron had only thought you were a pet, but now that he knows you matter? Knows what you are to him? Tries to lift up, intending to fight and you cling to him. Hook a leg over his hip. Hears your frightened, little ‘don’t, please’ and his spark hurts with it. Because he’s still connected to you, can feel that fear isn’t for yourself it’s for him. And it tears through him, the unfairness of all of it. That he can’t just have this one thing, the only thing that really matters. “You’re not invincible,” he growls at Megatron, not caring if the warlord hears the threat there. Because to protect his mate? He’ll burn the world down around him.

Previous

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[fryingpan1234567]

aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?

if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hc’s about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually

so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:

PRIDE MONTH AT CHB🗣️🗣️

SO we’ve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door

I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon

they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it

limited edition CHB pride merch😭

Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal

Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THAT’S THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY

Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: “Oh yeah she—“

Percy: *AIR HORN* “IT’S HE, BITCH”

Ignorant prick: “Okay Jesus I’m sorry”

A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about “always being able to tell” and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*

Leo’s been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she can’t figure out one of his sibling’s genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronouns😭😭😭

anyways yeah I like to imagine there’s a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York

or no there’s demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the “fireworks” which are actually just godly light shows

Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again

Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups “conveniently” in their paths

all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while he’s on a date w Leo

Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say ✨BEST BI✨ with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle

Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later

Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag

campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self

Percy “I can’t believe I used to think I was straight” Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you don’t always know right away

Annabeth “I had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horrible” Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that there’s nothing wrong with being queer (and that she’ll fight any homophobic family members they may have)

actually they kind of all do that

Some little kid: “Well……. I don’t wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me out”

Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusa’s head after it got sent to Olympus: “Give me your address, I have an idea”

Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblings’ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother

Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)

William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot

Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was great— these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad

Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Because™️

(Will’s hair was blue and pink for weeks)

RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.

Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblings’ dyed hair

Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. D’s Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchief😭

watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard

Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say they’re Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora

(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)

Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)

Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not

”YOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHE’S TOTALLY STRAIGHT—“

”WHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AIN’T GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERS—“

”LEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHER’S W A L L P A P E R S .”

Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength

GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HC’S FOR I WOULD LOVE TO🙏🙏🙏🙏

[spidehpig]

i love that raphael is so self absorbed tbh. i mean he just displays the most egregious case of narcissism you’ve ever seen. narcissism so bad he completely lacks any sense of self awareness & quite literally deludes himself with his own ridiculous fantasies of grandeur & power

it’s pathetic really… i’m so obsessed with him lmao. like genuinely what has him convinced he could usurp asmodeus if he had the crown of karsus. that shit was collecting dust in his daddy’s vault for centuries… mephistopheles is quite literally asmodeus’ biggest hater

he’s been plotting & scheming for millennia to overthrow him & he has failed miserably every single time. & im sorry i will acknowledge that raphael is very smart & powerful i mean he’s done enough to make his father send him a little spy/distraction unlike hes treated his other offspring

literally just devoured them bc he hated them lmao. so like yeah raphael is kinda an it girl, he’s got the 2nd most powerful devil of the hells keeping a little side eye on him just in case. but i still think he’s utterly insane if he thinks the crown of karsus is enough to make the hells bend to his knees. i do think it’d be enough for him overthrow zarial & become archdevil of the 1st (i could go on a whole side tangent about how that’s literally only bc mephistopheles wants that to happen bc now he controls 2 layers of hell, one by proxy or his son who quit frankly cannot deny him or else he be devoured. anyways what i was saying is dispater is old as fuck and has been there done that. i really don’t think crown of karsus raphael would be a threat to him at all. don’t even get me STARTED on mammon 💀

like alright sure let’s pretend he conquered the 1st and 2nd. i’m sorry but he’s not getting the 3rd lol. mammon is THAT BITCH and has been around since like fucking forever lol. he quite literally lets his team warlocks open portals to other archdevils domains to steal from them. that devil does not give a FUCKKKKKK 😭😭 he literally was like yeah what the fuck sure you can open a portal to mephistopheles’ vaults in cania so the dead three can steal from him idgaf he can send me a strongly worded email if he has a problem with it 🙄

side note, literally so fucking funny that durge and gortash pulled that shit off bc helsik is literally like yeah sorry homie i actually can’t get you into the 8th layer anymore bc they tightened up security after getting robbed blind 😔

[multiverseworm]

Some Damirae Content💟

(At the request of @wittyjasontodd )

TW: A slight mention of self-harm

Fun fact: people who’ve had their nose broken can have a whole catalog of different conditions develop because of it, even if the nose has been put back into place. One of those conditions, and the most obvious and common one, is snoring.

So… Canonically, Damian (and several if not all Batfamily members) snores when he sleeps, and is not like he can help it.

Raven immediately noticed this when he first fell asleep in her presence a late Sunday afternoon in the Titans tower when he was comfortable enough to let his body relax in the library while they both read a book. Titus cuddling by his side with the intent of protecting him. She found the sound of his snoring the cutest sound in the world. Like a soft purr the rings just loud enough to make you aware that it’s there, relaxing.

However, after a mission a couple of weeks after they had finally able to express their feelings for each other, she decided to heal his wounds. Using her powers to alleviate the pain and make the burden lighter, she never realized that along with that she was healing his previous broken nose trauma as well.

That night, when going to bed, the silence of lying on his chest made her realize that her powers had healed more than she had intended for, as she didn’t realize it would mean for her to lose the soothing sound of her lover’s snores.

But what could she do now?

Unconsciously, from that moment onwards, each mission the Titans had was an opportunity for Damian to have an encounter with someone that could have him just injured enough so that his nose would require a quick fix.

She would watch as he battled with his opponents and they would hit and miss each time.

Why was he so good at what he did?

Damian would notice this behavior on his beloved. So one day, after a mission was accomplished, he decided to approach her, out of the eyes of the team.

Damian: Habibti, it has come to my attention that you seem to be more interested in my position while on the missions than on your own. That is not something that you should be doing.

Raven: Of course not. I don’t know what you’ve seen but that’s not-

Damian: Spare us the trouble. What is on your mind? Are you afraid that something will happen to me? Because I can assure you I am perfectly capable of-

Raven: I need to break your nose.

Damian: …

Raven: …

Damian: If that is something you need, then who am I to question you, habibti. *closes his eyes waiting for the punch*

Raven: *panicked* W-What?! I’m not going to break your nose! I wouldn’t hurt you!

Damian: *opens his eyes and rolls them* Fine. I’ll do it myself…

Raven: Wait, wha- *she gets interrupted by Damian breaking his own nose by putting pressure on it with his knuckles and a letting out a slight groan* ARE YOU INSANE?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!

Damian: *holding his nose with his hand and putting it back in place with a crack* Because you were getting distracted on the missions and hence, putting yourself and the team in danger. I will not have any of that. If a broken nose means you will remain safe, then it’s done.

Raven: THAT IS- *she stops mid-sentence* Actually very sweet…

Damian: *smirks as he cleans his blood with a handkerchief* So, may I know what all this mess was about?

Raven: *blushes and looks away as she realizes the reason is rather stupid* I rather not…

Damian: I really hope it was worth it. *he comes closer after cleaning all the blood, his nose still bruised*

Raven: *imagining the sounds of his purring snores already* I’ll make it up to you before bed…

Damian: Hopefully, you will not ask me to break anything else next time… because, you know, habibti? I would do anything for you…

[lil13]

Pov: Enemies to lovers. Specifically, Ethan is your academic rival and you absolutely hate him. Or so you think.

•

You walked through the door of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s New York apartment with Mindy and Anika in tow. Mindy was your roommate, someone you’ve known since preschool, so it wasn’t a question that the two of you would be roommates.

“T, please tell me this is going to be a girl’s night.” You asked, falling down on the couch you had taken 1 too many naps on over the past few months you all lived in the city.

After the most recent stabbings, you all managed to get into a summer program at Blackmore. The excuse was that you wanted to get ahead in college, but the real reason was you all couldn’t stand to be in Woodsboro any longer.

A blush rose on Tara’s cheeks and you knew that your girl’s night was in jeopardy. “Chad… might be coming.”

“If he brings his fucking, smart ass roommate i’m leaving.”

Mindy scoffed, sitting down on the couch with you. “Relax, Y/n, if he brings him, just ignore him. I don’t understand the beef between you two… I know why I don’t like him.”

The girl Meeks-Martin twin claimed that Ethan Landry — Chad’s roommate and your self-proclaimed mortal enemy — was not to be trusted. Ever since Amber and Richie, Mindy rarely trusted another person.

“There are a lot of reasons as to why I hate him, but one of them has to do with our Econ class.”

Sam handed you a beer, knowing you needed to be somewhat buzzed if the curly-headed boy was coming over. “Econ?”

“Yes, Econ, he’s… too good at it.” You scoffed, “He consistently has the highest average in the class and—”

“You’re not used to being second to anyone.” Tara connected the dots, clinking her beer bottle with yours.

You had been the Valedictorian in high school, #1 overall. So, coming to Blackmore and having this curly-headed boy so easily beat you out aggravated you. Since you realized he was your academic rival, you began finding more and more about him that bothered you. That way you’d hate him instead of only being jealous of him.

Jealousy bothered you.

On a list of things about the boy that bothered you:

His hair was too curly.

He was too nice.

He remembered details about everyone, down to their favorite m&m color.

He was a virgin.

He was insanely attractive, yet still single.

His study habits didn’t make sense, he got perfect grades and she had yet to actually see him study (but then again you didn’t try to see him at all).

You could go on and on.

“Knock, knock.” Chad’s voice rang through the apartment.

Two sets of footsteps could be heard and you groaned, Ethan had in fact tagged along. You chugged the rest of your beer, letting the alcohol course through your veins. Sam obviously saw this and brought you another, having it already opened for you.

“If I was into girls, Sam.” he winked at her and she laughed.

Chad and Ethan both sat on the couch and Quinn made you sit up to make room for the rest. Unfortunately for you, when you sat up, Ethan was directly next to you.

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, sinking back into the couch.

Tara and Mindy fought over the movie you all were to watch and you somehow landed on a scary movie you hadn’t heard of, but it was a group thing — you only watched scary movies.

Mindy and Anika were cuddled up and so were Tara and Chad. Quinn and Sam flanked the rest of the group. You and Ethan? You were dreading being in the same room as each other.

Time went and the week’s events and your now 3 beers had caught up with you, you were exhausted and somewhat drunk. Everyone was asleep and you couldn’t help but think how good of an idea it was.

You’d had a busy week, midterms had kicked your ass. You might’ve only slept an average of 3 hours each night. So, sitting still for an extended period of time made sleep want to come quicker. You gave in and let your head fall to the side, not even caring that it landed on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Y/N.” Ethan muttered, trying to make sure you were aware that you had your head on his shoulder — knowing of your hatred toward him.

Unbeknownst to you, the hatred was very much one sided. Ethan had the biggest crush on you. It was almost embarrassing, truly he wondered how you hadn’t noticed yet.

You were one of the main reasons as to why he was still single.

“Shut the fuck up, E.” you waved him off, “I’m aware you’re who i’m laying on, but everyone else is too far away.”

The movie continued to play and you got yourself comfortable, more of your body now lay on Ethan’s. You tried to ignore the feeling that surged through your body at the contact between your bodies. Your bodies were so close that Ethan’s hand almost had to rest on your thigh, you gave him no space to put it anywhere else.

Your eyes were pulled away from the screen when you felt movement on your thigh. Ethan was absentmindedly tapping on your leg and for some reason it was driving you crazy. Each tap from a finger sending electricity through your leg.

It was too much.

So, you jumped up from your spot, successfully making Ethan jump. “Y/N, what the hell?”

You shook your head and stumbled to the kitchen. Time for another beer.

You were quick to open another, number 4.


Before you were joined in the kitchen, by none other than Ethan, you’d downed half of it. His eyes were wide as he reached over to slip it out of your hands. “That’s enough, Y/N.” A laugh fell from his lips.

You pouted, reaching for the bottle, but the boy held it out of reach. “E.” you whined.

The boy faltered, his hand dropping just enough for you to snatch the beer back. Another sip.

“Y/N.” he reached for the beer again.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, some of the beer had spilled. Enough to make Ethan slip when he lunged forward, making him fall, taking you down with him.

Luckily, the fall didn’t hurt you too much, but now you were pinned underneath the boy.

“Ethan, you’re on top of me.” you whined again.

You could feel his heart beating against your chest. Was he nervous?

“Y/N, why do you hate me?” His voice sounded soft, almost as if he were hurt by your hatred.

He looked like a sad puppy and it made your heart hurt.

A sigh fell from your lips, “In all honesty, the only valid reason was that you’re better than me and Econ. My… my academics are all that I have, E. It’s all my parents cared about… you wouldn’t understand.”

Ethan let out a shaky breath, one of his hands came up to your face, his thumb running over your cheek. “I understand more than you know.” Your breath hitched at the skin-to-skin contact.

He must’ve noticed, because his eyes shot back to yours.

“I don’t actually hate you.” you whispered, his brown eyes were captivating.

The curly-headed boy stared at you breathlessly, his eyes now were flickering from yours to your lips. You paused for a second, thinking about what to do next. Should you kiss him, try to escape, or wait for him to grow a pair and kiss you?


All seemed like good options?

However, if you and Ethan did kiss — laying on the kitchen floor covered in beer — you’d have to admit to the others that you didn’t actually hate the boy. In reality, your hatred had just stemmed from an insecurity.

So, you did it. You took the risk and lifted your head off of the ground, closing the small gap between you and Ethan. Your lips connected and it was like the final missing puzzle piece had been found. His lips fit perfectly with yours, no matter how cliche it sounded.

The hand he’d had on your cheek now held the back of your neck, holding your face to his. His heartbeat also hadn’t slowed, if anything, it got faster.

After a few seconds, Ethan pulled away. His cheeks had deeply reddened and both of you were out of breath. For someone who didn’t have experience in the dating department, Ethan kissed scarily well.

“Holy shit, are you guys okay? Your fall woke me up, but I kind of had to figure out where I was first before I came to check.” Anika’s sweet voice caught your attention.

Ethan rolled off of you, both of you startled by the sudden presence of another, his rather large body slamming into the cabinetry. It sounded and looked like it hurt, you’d make sure to check on him later.

“Oh.” She had a devious smirk on her lips, “Did I walk in on something? Y/N did you finally give up on your ‘I hate his guts’ bit? The tension between you to is so-”

You waved your hands to stop her, “Ani! Stop, please.”

She giggled, “And now i’ve got my answer.” Anika playfully waved, skipping back out of the room.

You covered your face with your hands out of embarrassment, trying to ignore the events that had happened. Ethan falling on you, being covered in beer, kissing Ethan, and Anika walking in on the two of you in a rather compromising position.

“Y/N.” Ethan tugged at your wrists, attempting to uncover your face. “I understand if that was a heat of the moment thing, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

His voice sounded small, like earlier.

Your eyes went wide and you dropped your hands, rolling over to your side to face the boy. “No, no, no.” This time it was you who ran a thumb over Ethan’s cheek. “I was stupid to hate you, E! Please don’t think I didn’t want to kiss you, I don’t kiss someone if I don’t want to.”

“But all those guys at the parties-”

“I wanted to.” You laughed at his question, “But you’re different. You’re special, Ethan Landry, and I was too consumed by my own academic agenda to notice.”

He was quiet, but not in a sad way. The boy looked at you with more adoration in his eyes as you’d ever seen someone look at another with.

Then his lips found yours again.

[sid-sn]

My Darling Irene

my Irene headcanons below cuz someone asked <3

all interpretations of characters are my own and it’s not historical or canonical accurate, will change based on the future canon updates

contains certain explicit content so please see the tags, outlast itself is a warning tbh

According to the voicelines she’s drugged and hypnotized by her husband and most of the time is just a very obedient trad wife. But they also mentioned she would argue with Easterman and wants to leave him after discovering he’s been drugging her. So in my headcanon her mental state is very unstable, she’s drifting in and out of the drugs effects, she’s not entirely lost and is constantly fighting against the manipulation of her husband.

But as the time settings is in the 1960s so the general environment is pretty misogynistic. She’s confused about the social role of a woman that she often questions wether this abusive marriage is expected to be normal or she’s going insane. (That’s when Avellanos comes in and change her entire worldview with lesbians sex)

As for the self harm wounds that’s solely because Easterman loves to have power over ppl so he makes her harm herself under drugs or hypnosis. (according to his conversation with Wernicke I assume he’s repulsed at hetero sex, probably because of his own gender dysphoria. So yes that misogynistic freak gets off to her pain is hardly a surprise) Irene usually doesn’t remember the process, so she mistaken those are because of her own alcoholism and depression. She hates herself and those wounds, would use bandages to hide them.

I headcanon she comes from a decent wealthy family, provided her with enough sense of self and knowledge but not enough to let her see beyond the social gender discipline. She met Easterman and his brother Stanley in high school, their relationship is kind of like the langermanns and Jessica situation in O2. Stanley secretly had a crush on her but unfortunately Irene only views him as a friend back then, too blinded by the feigned maturity of Hendrick and her family probably favors Hendrick over Stanley’s soft and pessimistic personality anyway. Both of the brothers are not mentally stable as they both grow up in an abusive household, unlike Hendrick who is good at hiding his fucked up mentality Stanley is very aware of his inability to provide her with a healthy relationship, but still he cares for Irene deeply. She later developed some feelings for Stanley after she’s stuck in the terrible marriage.

But then again we know too little about the brothers, the whole Easterman family is a giant mess. To elaborate on my headcanons on Easterman’s family will take another wall of text so I will skip that here, but I’m also very interested in that topic.

Anyway we know what happened to Stanley next(actually we don’t) Irene is absolutely devastated, would often see him in her dreams and drugs induced hallucinations. Sometimes Stanley appears to her in an unspeakable way(my explanation for the uniform kink, that police line is irrelevant to me idc), she’s terrified of her own infidelity but it’s a comfort to her nonetheless. She’d see him appearing as a corpse sometimes but he’d never been scary to her. Everything about Stanley is a comfort compared to her reality.

Her feelings regarding her husband is mixed. Deep down she hates his guts but the environment around her is making it impossible for her to leave, so her mind would probably develop a self protect mechanism that’s build around the fond memories with him before marriage, which leads to her thinking she still loves her husband. Also the drugs and hypnosis aren’t helping.

In conclusion she’s not a blank trad wife character to me, and I don’t think that’s what red barrels wanted her to be either.

[weirdsht]

LOL HI I HAVE A THOUGHT AGAINNN HEHEHE

Cale and the gang with someone who's a mermaid? They're scared shitless because of the insanity their fellow merfolk are expressing towards creatures that haven't done them anything too big. They can be transmigrated or just simply too self aware of what kind of people they are going to face if they keep meddling with other creatures' affairs with no reasonable explanation.

I love mermaids lol 😞

It can be platonic or romantic. I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE 🔥🔥🔥

Out of Their Minds - LoTCF & Mermaid! Reader

notes: thank you for enjoying my fics! I wrote something more lighthearted this time because I'm realised I kept writing angst. Low-key wanna do a pt.2 of this ngl. Also I know betta fishes live in shallow water but they are the most magnificent fish I have laid my eyes on so I wanted to use them

tags: mermaid reader, male reader (it wasn't planned, i was addressing to reader as a man before I could realise it lol), set after cale heals paseton, paseton/reader if you squint, i made a bunch of bullshit information about mermaids since there isn't much known about them anyways

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Out of My Mind (pt. 2)

Sigh 

“This is what you get for working with shady people…”

You stare at the three mermaid corpses on top of a big rock. It was the middle of the night making the sight more eery. It makes you nauseous. Especially as you notice how one of them is armless.

However, you didn’t pity them.

“Serves you right to be honest.”

You whispered in the corpse’s ear as you sat on top of the boulder. Your mermaid tail swaying against a part of the rock that has no mermaid on it.

“How did you lose your arm though? Did you anger the Whale Tribe so much that they took your arm as a souvenir?”

Looking at the sea you wondered who killed them.

“Maybe it was that ruffian called Archie? But I heard rumours from the fishes that the Whale King will beat him to a pulp if he goes too far.”

Humming in disbelief, you continued talking to the corpse as though they were still alive.

“Hmm, but you guys crossed the line first so I guess doing this much to your bodies is nothing.”

You started thinking about what happened to the mermaid tribe as of late. Some shady organizations came and made a deal with them. You didn’t know much but you heard the organization called Arm was asking for a sea route.

“Wait, it’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? You’re working for something called Arm and you lost your arm when you died.” 

With your index finger pointing out, you tried to poke the cheek of the armless mermaid. But alas you couldn’t do it. Too disgusted at their mummified looks.

“Eww, you all look so gross. Why am I even sitting on top of you all? I’m gonna go back now before that weirdo magic spearman who keeps calling himself my hyung looks for me.”

Grimacing at the thought of the guy who insisted you’re his family now, you tried to get off the boulder you were sitting on. You may be an orphan, but you aren’t desperate to acquire new family members.

Shaaaa

As you try to climb down, you hear a soft splashing sound from behind. It sounds like water being manifested out of thin air.

Wait… Water out of thin air?

That could only mean the Whale Tribe. Not just ordinary ones, but one of the Shickler’s children.

Panicking, you tried to turn around while climbing down. Which only resulted in you falling off the boulder and landing hard on your butt.

“Wait wait wait! Is that a sword? Oh my god, it’s Paseton. Wait no should I call you his highness Paseton?”

Teary eyes and mouth spouting a bunch of nonsense because of panic made the half-blood whale stop in his tracks. Usually, when he encounters a mermaid they would spare no time attacking him.

“Are you about to discard those bodies in the water?”

“What? No way! If I did that those weird people would find me sooner.”

“Weird… People?”

Paseton lowered his sword and you relaxed a little. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand before addressing the whale’s confusion.

“Yeah! You should know about it already. I heard the turtles talking about how the mermaids are haunting you because you found out they were working with humans! Oh, but you don’t seem hurt, good for you!”

You gave him a thumbs-up as if you weren’t on the verge of crying because you fell earlier.

The half-blood whale finds you weird. It looks like you have no intentions of hurting him. In fact, it looks like you’re supporting him?

“...You’re that rumoured eccentric mermaid. Son of the previous mermaid leader.”

“No need to make it sound good. I know the rumours actually call me crazy and not eccentric. But yes that’s me, the crazy orphan whose parents got assassinated by mermaids. They're the real lunatics if you ask me.”

Paseton hesitantly shook the hand you offered.

“But why are you here? I heard you’ve gone missing and the mermaid tribe are worried sick looking everywhere for you?”

“You’re one to talk, I heard your sister is going crazy looking for you too.”

Letting go of his hand, you began to explain what happened.

“You already know about it but the merpeople are getting help from above ground. That was also why they assassinated my mother, the previous mermaid leader. She wanted to straighten out the relationship between our tribe and yours. She also initially refused the offer that the humans made. Look where that got her.“

Because of that you became wanted by the merpeople too. They framed it as looking for the lost heir but what they really want is to capture you to exploit your abilities.

As thanks for not killing you, you explained your special abilities to Paseton. Your poison is three times stronger than normal mermaids. You also possess the ability to heal any poison that comes from water and it’s creatures in it. Another special ability of yours is transforming into a fish. A secret ability that only the direct blood of the true mermaid leader can possess.

“My poison is strong enough to do this.”

Stretching your arms, you demonstrated your poison to Paseton by letting it out on the mermaid beside you. This rendered the already armless mermaid tailless.

“The sight is disgusting each time. Not pretty at all.”

You gag as you watch the mermaid’s tail turn into green goo before it sizzles, leaving no trace behind.

“So what do you think? I was planning on leaving these bodies but I can get rid of them for you. In exchange, you’ll let me be on my merry way.” 

Paseton nodded and you took that as a cue to start disintegrating the corpses with your poison.

“Where do plan to go now?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. The mermaids have gone crazy, I’m too scared to even look at them. Both the whales and the whale tribe won’t leave me alone if they see me because they’ll think I’m one of those lunatics. Maybe I’ll forever transform into a fish and create a fantasy nation and call it Lemuria or something.”

You said it in a joking manner but Paseton can see the fear in your eyes as you talk about the merpeople. At that moment the whale tribe prince pitied you. You have essentially become an outsider with nowhere to run to.

He was about to make an offer when a water whip struck beside you.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about, now a water whip is out to kill me. Wait waterwhip? Witira?!” 

You desperately looked at the man in front of you.

“Hey, I helped you get rid of the bodies right? You said you’ll let me go right? So please explain to your sister I didn’t do anything.”

“What are you doing to my brother?!”

Witira’s angry voice from behind made you look at his brother more desperately. Paseton nodded as he walked towards his sister.

“Noona stop, he doesn’t mean any harm. We were just having a chat.”

“With a mermaid?”

Paseton begins explaining what happened to Witira. From how he gets help from a noble to you helping him get rid of the mermaids. He also explained how you’re on the run from the mermaids and the people working with them.

As Paeston speaks you tried to use their distracted state as an opportunity to go back to the sea.

Keyword being “try”.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You feel the humpback whale half-blood scoop your fish form from the shore. 

“A betta fish huh? You’re quite pretty.”

Good thing you’re a fish so the siblings wouldn’t be able to see you blush. Your fins did shine a little brighter though. Light blue with a red and white undertone that makes you look purple glistened under the moonlight. 

But there’s no way they’ll know that’s how you show being flustered in fish form so it’s good.

“What do you want with me? I already did my end of the deal~”

You whined and flopped around Paseton’s hands, throwing a tantrum. The man only chuckled while his sister watched in amusement.

“Yes, yes. But I want to make another deal.”

That made you stop flailing around.

“Turn back first. The water in my hands is running out, you already splashed most of it out.”

Obeying, you transformed back into your mermaid form. You expected Paseton to put you down then. However, he didn’t and decided to carry your bridal style instead.

He may be the weakest of the whale tribe but his still stronger than most humans.

“So what do you want?”

You crossed your arms, pouting because you lost your chance to make a getaway.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you back with us. You have nowhere to go right? You can just live with us.”

Both you and Witira looked at him quizzically. 

“What’s in it for you?”

“We’ll use your abilities when fighting the mermaids. You also have an information network that consists of sea creatures right? We’ll use that too.”

“Those are my friends, not a measly information network thank you very much. Also, didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m scared of mermaids now. I can’t even look at them.”

“Who says you have to look at them?”

You questioned what Paseton was saying. Meanwhile, Witira observes his brother. She agrees with his plan. After hearing what happened to you and your abilities, she knows you’ll be a useful card.

However, she knows her brother. And she knows that the way he's looking at you means more than what his entailing. He also seems confident that he’ll get you to go home with them before the sun rises.

Hmm, maybe that’s her fault for spoiling him too much…

“You don’t have to face them yourself. You don’t even have to leave the Whale Tribe village if you want. You’ll just have to use your abilities from far away and help us defeat the mermaid tribe.”

“...”

You mulled about it for a few seconds. It’s not like you have anything else to lose as you already lost everything. It is also true that you have nowhere to go. Your sea creature friends can only hide you for so long before you have to run away again. It also doesn’t seem like the humpback whale is lying.

Plus Paseton is pretty cute.

Wait what?

“So I don’t have to face them?”

“No.”

“Will I have my own house?”

“Hmm, not yet but I have a house that’s separate from our family residence. You can live there with me”

“Not bad… You promise I won’t meet them right? Including those crazy people that keep calling themself my new family.”

“I promise.”

“Can you buy me a large fish tank that’s installed in my house?”

“Making demands already? I’ll have a custom-made fish tank and pool, just for you.”

“Okay, deal!”

You raised your arms in celebration, already thinking just how beneficial this whole ordeal was for you. You’ll just have to provide them with your assistance that’s being used for the greater good and you’ll be spoiled as a compensation? Sweet.

Witira only shook her head at your conversation. She could already tell she had a lot to explain to her father once the three of you go home.

Oh well, as long as her brother is happy.

[i-live-inyourwalls]

more haikyuu characters i think would be friends as adults (PLATONIC! I WILL SELF-IMMOLATE BEFORE I BREAK UP MY FAV SHIPS)

bokuto + ushijima

- first of all, part of my reasoning is that it would be funny as fuck

- HOWEVER: bokuto is kinda gullible, takes a lot of what he’s told at face value without questioning it. he’s honest and open about his emotions

- ushijima is VERY literal, also takes things at face value, and doesn’t generally understand other people if they aren’t being direct

- bokuto’s inability to keep anything to himself would actually be helpful for ushijima

- he’d never be confused about bokuto’s emotional state which (as we know) is not something he would pick up on unless he was told

- bokuto would also benefit from being around someone who was incapable of sparing his feelings (ego probably would take a hit at first, but i think as an adult he’d be more capable of handling it)

- also bokuto is insanely social so he wouldn’t stop trying until he and ushijima were friends

- bonus: he’d get to hang out with tendou which would be fun for him

tendou + tanaka

- they are both insane

- high energy, like messing with people, weird hair

- somewhat self-centered but still socially aware

- i think tanaka would find tendou entertaining and i think tendou would find tanaka funny

- also the potential for them fucking with people to an honestly diabolical degree? yeah, i’m sat for that

- i think they would both mess with ushijima, but i don’t think they’d ever actually be mean— and they’re smart enough to know some of their friends should be left alone (…iwaizumi….daichi….oikawa but only because oikawa would put an honestly neurotic effort into getting revenge—which could only be learned through experience)

nishinoya + kuroo

- i mean… i feel like this one is obvious

- obsessed with themselves, enjoy causing chaos

- kuroo is so much smarter than noya but noya is more unpredictable so…they could definitely be a dangerous combination

- smarter than the tendou + tanaka duo because, like, kuroo

- kuroo would probably take advantage of how willing noya is to do dumb shit and get noya to do his stupidest ideas (noya would not realize he was being strategically convinced, also he probably wouldn’t even care if he knew because he was having fun)

- also, absolutely would be each other’s wingmen. probably with asahi and kenma. can almost guarantee they would NOT be good at this and the other men would just find it confusing

akaashi + kenma

- said in my prev post about this, i think akaashi would be friends with kuroo because they took of kenma and bokuto in high school so have a shared (ish) experience

- he’d be friends with kenma for different but adjacent reasons

- they’re both somewhat quiet and reserved but capable of being sarcastic or harsh if the situation requires it

- dating bokuto and kuroo (IN MY WORLD THEY ARE. ITS REAL TO ME!!!)

- anyway, both dating people with VERY different levels of extroversion who like to spend time together

- can sympathize with the sensory overload that is being around bokuto and kuroo at the same time

- BokuAka & KuroKen double dates??? yeah bro. bokuto’s idea, kuroo talks kenma into them.

- they’d probably enjoy watching Bokuto and Kuroo entertain themselves when they all hung out even if it was overwhelming

- ^^^ both of them have a much shorter social battery so would be allies in the situation (if they don’t want to talk, they hide from everyone in silence— my mental image is them quietly doomscrolling in the same room, or kenma playing video games while akaashi reads a book or something— point being, i think they’d be able to be around each other comfortably without it feeling like actual social interaction)

edited for spelling :-)

[cuffmeinblack]

Dreamful Sleep

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

Tags: explicit | fluff | sex | friends to lovers

3.5k words

Summary: Garreth's habit of sleepwalking is driving his friends and roommates insane, until you start to find him in the midst of his dreaming.

A/n: Well, I do love a little fluff, some first-time smut, Garreth being Garreth. Nothing new or revolutionary here, just some good times with the most beautiful redheaded boy. I just love him.

ao3 link

Another night, another morning waking up surrounded by books, bottles and sweets strewn across the bed and the disgruntled mutterings of his roommates. Garreth never remembered his nighttime escapades, he was simply too deeply asleep to be aware of what he was doing. From his friends' recollections, it seemed as if he'd been trying to get out of the dormitory—his ultimate destination, he couldn't say, as he was usually swiftly bundled back into bed as soon as the commotion roused his slumbering roommates.

They'd threatened to tie him up if he didn't stop his mischief, but Garreth simply couldn't help it, nor offer an explanation. Weeks later, he'd woken in the common room to the sound of a shrill yelp, rattling his brain and piercing his ear drums; frankly, he was surprised the entire house wasn't woken. His blurry vision eventually focused on Nellie's horrified face, and the reason she'd let out such an ear piercing sound soon dawned on him. He told himself that it was time he started wearing more clothes to bed.

Whenever he dreamed, he rarely remembered the subject, though they often felt…familiar. Comforting, even. He had vague recollections of a friend and their piercing eyes and warm smile, though ultimately he’d never stayed asleep long enough for the stories to come to a conclusion. Part of him was curious, part terrified at what his unconscious body walking about the castle could accomplish. 

“You know I’m going to start hexing you in the night,” Leander grumbled as he pulled his shirt on the wrong way round.

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it,” Garreth apologised for what must have been the tenth time that week.

“Fine, what about Incarcerous?”

“I’m pretty sure that spell’s banned at Hogwarts,” Garreth grumbled.

Maybe being tied up wouldn’t be so bad, if it did come to that. It wasn’t worth thinking about for now—in fact, it wasn’t worth thinking about anything, given how tired he was. Leander seemed to be thinking the same as he dropped the nagging much quicker than usual, shuffling his clothes around the right way on his torso with an irritated frown. 

-

You'd heard about Garreth's sleepwalking, and the endless recountings of Nellie's encounter that made you blush at the mere thought, but nothing had prepared you for coming face to face with him in the midst of his dreaming. The strangest sound lured you from your sleep; at first you thought it a remnant from your dream, until you heard it again.

Whoosh.

Thump.

Bundling yourself into your robe, you groped around the nightstand for your wand before heading out of the dormitory on softly padding feet. Silence engulfed you as you left your roommates' soft snores behind with the creak of a hinge and click of a latch. No more whooshing or thumping came from the room below. Still, it was worth investigating, and your first clue was the staircase which was no longer a staircase. Your heart pounded with shock as your foot connected with nothing underneath you, pulling yourself back at the last second with a wobble.

You'd almost fallen down the slippery slope in your haste, and the disappearance of the stairs could only mean one thing; a boy had tried climbing them to gain access to the girls' dormitories. Curious and slightly scandalised, you bunched up your nightdress and robe and sat on the landing, shuffling off to let gravity pull you down the slide. It took a lot of self restraint not to cheer as you whooshed down to the common room, landing on the carpeted floor with a thump, right next to Garreth.

Righting yourself, you opened your mouth to apologise for the near-collision but halted as you realised the redhead was fast asleep. Thank Merlin he was also wearing pyjamas this time; in fact, he looked perfectly cosy laying bundled on the floor in his baggy cotton ensemble, his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly as his eyes darted beneath his lids. He was obviously dreaming again, the way his mouth moved almost imperceptibly and muscles twitched—whatever the narrative taking place, it had brought a smile to his face. 

A minute or so must have passed since you were left crumpled on the floor next to Garreth, and all you'd achieved so far was to stare at his sleeping form. Brought out of your reverie by the scraping of stone as the staircase rebuilt itself, your skin flushed at the thought of having been so engrossed by your friend whilst he slept, though nobody conscious was around to witness it. You supposed you ought to wake him, as cruel as it seemed, so you reached out to place a hand on his arm, noticing how very warm he was.

Garreth shuffled slightly in his sleep, humming happily at the contact, and a heavy lurch of your stomach caught you off guard as you looked down at him. Regretfully, you squeezed his arm to rouse him, watching as he blinked rapidly to reveal dilated pupils, staring up at you with confusion etched on his freckled face.

"Hey, Gar," you said gently.

"Wha-...what am I doing here?" he mumbled.

He looked like a sleepy puppy as he propped himself up on his elbow, taking stock of his surroundings with bleary eyes and mussed hair. Even the little pout pulling at his lips was adorable. You put the thoughts down to your sleep deprivation and stood up, holding out a hand.

"You were sleepwalking again. Come on, let's get you back to bed."

"Mmmnh…I've never made it this far. How did you find me?" he asked, accepting your outstretched hand.

"I heard you. You erm…fell down the stairs."

"Well that explains a lot," he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his bum.

Never having witnessed him half-asleep before, his amateur dramatics were downright amusing. Endearing, even. You had the urge to ruffle his already displaced hair and shockingly, kiss his flushed cheeks. Instead, you gave him a pat on the back and guided him by the elbow towards the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Once he'd said his thanks and disappeared out of sight, you trudged back to your own bed and fell asleep to the idea of being enveloped by Garreth's warmth.

-

The constant sleepwalking has taken its toll on not only Garreth, but his roommates and even you. Seemingly attuned to his clumsy attempts at gaining access to where he shouldn't be, if he made it as far as the staircase you were inevitably the one who found him in the dead of night. Leander looked more drawn by the day, furious with his best friend's antics and threatening him with a draught of living death. He'd even gone to Nurse Blainey, who had ruled out dreamless sleep potions as a cure for the wandering; apparently all it would achieve would be to wipe his recollection of the dreams come morning, not stop the sleepwalking altogether.

After a busy day of back to back double lessons, you were already flagging only a few hours after dinner. Trying to concentrate on a book, your eyes slid in and out of focus, the words becoming a garbled mess the longer you tried. After the fifth attempt at reading the same sentence you gave up, discarding the book and allowing your neck to slacken, head lolling to the side. Just a few minutes to rest your eyes then you'd try again, you told yourself—it was just a little eye strain.

By the time you woke, the sky outside the windows was an inky black flecked with light from distant stars, the fire no longer roaring and leaving the room cold and empty. Apparently nobody had bothered to wake you, likely deciding you needed the rest, but someone had draped a robe over you at some point. There also appeared to be a heavy weight pressed on your thighs, and as you became more lucid, you noticed the silken texture between your fingers and a familiar scent from the robe laid against your chest.

Sitting up from your awkward sleeping position with a flex of your stiff neck, you peered down into your lap to see Garreth sleeping soundly with your hand tangled in his hair. A slight panic rattled your brain, the urge to whip your hand away losing to the much stronger desire to smooth the strands under your thumb. The dim light from the candles and celestial bodies danced across his face, illuminating his fiery mane as you stroked slowly, gently. You also noticed a tiny dribble of drool forming at his mouth, making you smirk before your thoughts were preoccupied by just how plump and inviting his lips looked.

You shuffled slightly, trying to get a little more comfortable, the movement dislodging the robe from your shoulder as the slightly burnt smell of cinders, cinnamon and butterbeer hit you. A smile tugged at your lips at the unmistakeable mixture you'd come to associate with friendship, comfort, joy and something else you hadn't quite figured out yet. With a furtive look around the room—though you knew you were alone except the sleeping beauty on your lap—you picked up a handful of the robe, bringing it to your nose and inhaling deeply. The smell of Garreth flooded your nostrils, eliciting all sorts of confusing feelings; some entirely innocent, some not. 

You thought he must wake soon—surely he was due another sleepwalk. The clock on the wall ticked by, your own sleep now broken and filled with distracting thoughts of the boy laying beneath you. Midnight came and went; two o' clock, four o'clock, too, until dawn was upon you with the first birdsong and golden rays flooding the common room. You didn't have the heart to move him when he slept so soundly, sacrificing your own restfulness for his. Another hour passed by, by which point you'd picked up the book you'd discarded hours before, reading in the steadily intensifying light. Students would be waking soon, and whilst you knew your current predicament meant nothing, absolutely nothing, your classmates might use the scene as a source for gossip.

"Garreth," you whispered. 

No response.

"Gar, wake up," you said, louder this time.

He groaned, eyebrows pinching into a frown before his eyes flew open wide to meet yours, like a deer caught in Lumos. Visibly flustered, he awkwardly cleared his throat and flashed you a wide smile from your lap, making no attempt to move. You wished he would—the vantage point couldn’t have made for a particularly flattering angle.

“Morning,” he croaked, wiping the sleep from his emerald eyes. “Did I get up in the night?”

“No, actually. You slept through, which is why I didn’t wake you,” you replied, yawning widely.

Garreth frowned, finally leaving his resting place on your thighs, now ever so slightly numb but nevertheless missing his presence.

“Huh. Maybe I was just trying to get to you all along," he said with a soft smile.

You laughed, presuming he'd been joking, but his eyes locked on yours with an intensity you'd never seen before.

"What, really?"

"I think my subconscious has been trying to tell me something," he nodded.

He said something along the lines of miss you, but the pounding of your heart dulled your hearing.

"Why…why would you miss me?"

"I said can I kiss you?" he chuckled.

Before you’d had time to process his question, your head had nodded of its own accord and Garreth’s lips had pressed against yours. You exchanged soft, exploratory kisses, though he already felt so familiar and utterly perfect. With a tilt of your head, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, drawing a moan from you that he echoed. Every noise he made sent a throb of desire south, the tension you’d barely noticed between you now unravelling with a fervour that seemed impossible to stop.

He was pushing you back on the sofa before long, pressing his body between your legs with an unexpected confidence that had you reeling—clearly he knew what he wanted, and the way your body responded told him plainly that you wanted the same. You clasped his head in your hands and kissed him hard, desperately trying to convey your feelings wordlessly. This wasn’t a tentative fling you’d come to regret, this was years of close friendship and unresolved sexual tension pouring out.

Garreth growled as you kissed him, a low rumble from deep in his throat that pulled at something equally as animalistic in you. He rolled against you, the friction a welcome relief that you met with a shift of your hips. His already stiff cock found that sweet spot and had you sighing for more, both lost in the feverish grinding against one another’s clothed bodies. As good as it felt, this would never be enough—now you had a taste, you wanted all of him; every inch of his freckled body pressed against your skin until there was no space between you, not even a hair’s breadth.

"Gar…"

"Hm?" his muffled reply came as he buried his face against your neck.

"Fucking hell, take me upstairs."

The request came out as an order and without a second's hesitation, Garreth scrambled off of you, helping you to your feet far too fast. Your head swam as you followed him to his dormitory, praying that you wouldn't meet any early risers on the way. So far so good, you thought as you climbed the stairs, but your luck ran out as soon as Garreth pushed open the door. Leander. Still dressed in pyjamas and loosely clutching a wash bag, his attention turned to his roommate as soon as the hinges stopped creaking. An awkward silence followed when he spotted you; flushed, dishevelled and wearing yesterday's clothes.

Of all the reactions you'd anticipated in that short, agonising moment, Leander surprised you by having none of them. No gaping mouth, spluttering or endless questions—he merely looked between the two of you and nodded; in resignation or approval, it didn't particularly matter. You were sequestered away behind the curtains of Garreth's bed before Leander had reached the door, taking care to cast a silencing charm before Garreth's mouth claimed yours again, greedier than ever. The charm and privacy had thrown all inhibitions to the wayside as you both audibly, loudly, proclaimed your approval of each other.

Between searing kisses that had your insides squirming and heart fluttering, you both got to work mindlessly ridding the other of their clothes. A groan almost left your mouth as his shirt fell off his broad shoulders, your eyes flying open to drink in the sight of him—a sight you'd only dared ponder and dream of before now. He really did have freckles everywhere, and the overwhelming urge to kiss every one almost won your attention, until he peeled off your underwear. Breeches still on, he didn't let you rid him of the last scrap of clothing before his head had delved between your legs with shocking swiftness.

"Gar, what are you…?"

Your question was cut short by his rough manhandling of your legs, flinging them over his shoulders and gripping your thighs as his mouth found your aching heat. The wet warmth of his tongue was lost amongst your own heated arousal, but the pressure against your swollen clit sent your head spinning. You ought to have been embarrassed at how soaked you were already, but Garreth seemed to appreciate every last drop with loud groans as he lapped between your folds. The flick of the tip of his tongue against your nub sent shivers across your body to every extremity, or perhaps it had been the way he stared at you whilst he did so. Those piercing green eyes under hooded lids were the most addictive sight—you couldn't look away from him, seemingly drunk with pleasure from your juices.

He had no right being so talented with his tongue, whether from experience or outright enthusiasm—either way, your orgasm built steadily under his caress. A string of endless praise and expletives left your mouth, spurring him on to flick and twirl his tongue faster, his salacious moans growing louder still, until finally reaching a crescendo with your climax. What might have been the most mind-altering release you'd ever experienced ripped through your body, leaving your limbs shuddering and ears ringing.

"Garreth, that was…amazing…"

His blurry figure appeared above you, and you noticed your eyes were pricked with tears. It was like looking up at him from the bottom of a lake, his copper locks swimming into your vision with the sound of fabric rustling.

"I want you…all of you," his gravelly voice said, dripping with lust.

His hands gripped your thighs as you wiped away the tears, peering down to see him knelt between your legs, completely naked. Great Merlin, he'd been hiding that beneath his tattered robes all this time? The times you'd gripped his arm to walk with him or slapped his back jovially came to mind; you knew he was broad, muscular, but he was truly delicious. Especially those thick thighs that braced against your own as he gently stroked his impressive length. You couldn't suppress a gulp as you took the sight of that in; uncut, pink and throbbing with desire, you could have happily watched him play with himself and welcomed his release with an open mouth.

But he had other plans for you. His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face towards him as your eyes dragged lazily away from his cock.

"Eyes up here, darling."

Good grief, Garreth Weasley would be the end of you. You offered a silent prayer as he towered over you, guiding the tip of his cock towards your entrance. You laced your fingers through his hair, looking into his eyes as he pushed himself inside you slowly, carefully, allowing you time to adjust to his size. A deep inhale and exhale and your body relaxed around him, leaving you with a satisfying sensation of fullness.

"Gods, you feel good," you whispered.

"Yeah?" he asked, pushing himself deeper than you thought possible whilst drawing your legs up closer to your chest. "How about that?"

"Fuck, yes!"

The first thrust had you moaning, the second had you begging for more as you tugged on his hair, now thoroughly dishevelled with strands plastered to his glistening forehead. His musky scent was intoxicating, mixed with his usual Garreth smell and the heady mixture of arousal made something you’d remember and crave again and again. Pulling him down on top of you, your eye contact finally broke as your lips crashed together in a kiss that meant much more than you would care to admit.

His pace was slow and steady but every roll of his hips hit you deep, precise, hard. He was holding back, prolonging the pleasure as long as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that Garreth could easily pick you up and fuck you senseless in any position he wanted, the way his biceps flexed and rippled underneath him. With his weight borne on one arm, his other was free to roam your body, large hands gripping your flesh greedily in time to his powerful thrusts.

He skimmed your breast, a thumb and forefinger pinching the peak, drawing a surprised yelp that muffled against his smirking lips. Well, if that’s how he wanted to play. Abandoning his hair, your fingers flexed as they drew down his back, nails dragging across the skin in a way you were sure would leave welts and a little blood to remember you by. Garreth groaned, his hips twitching in response and plunging harder back into you.

“Oh shit…,” you gasped.

“Do it again.”

You complied, a little harder this time, and Garreth quickened his pace with gasping moans by your ear that sent shivers across your entire body. Again and again he pounded into you as you marked up his back and grabbed handfuls of him anywhere you could. A sharp smack on his arse sent him over the edge, and he bit down hard on your neck as he came. He gave no warning, his release spilling inside you in shuddering pulses as he clung to you tightly, muttering your name between kisses to your sore skin.

“Gar…,” you sighed, nuzzling his cheek as his rhythm slowed, his orgasm ebbing away.

Laying underneath his warmth, arms and legs wrapping his body was a comfort you’d never experienced, and you stroked his hair and kissed every freckle you could reach on his face. Garreth grinned, his eyes now hazy, almost drunk, as if he could happily go back to sleep wrapped in your embrace.

“Good morning,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Good morning,” you chuckled back.

Garreth nuzzled his face back against your neck, kissing his claim on you with gentleness.

“You know…if you want our friends to keep their sanity, I think you’ll have to sleep with me from now on,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Is that so? I’m not sure that’s a proper thing for friends to do.”

“I thought it was obvious—this was me asking you out!”

“Ah, well then, this is me accepting,” you replied, pulling him into a deep kiss that made you very late for breakfast.

[valyrfia]

You're always and consistently my favourite F1 blog because whenever something worth talking about happens, e.g Hungary, you always have the exact takes and opinions I can agree with after a million lando sympathizing posts.

I’m glad you feel that way anon! I used to really like Lando, but he’s been getting on my nerves since Miami. I think there’s a difference between advocating for yourself/believing totally in your own ability and being an egotistical asshole about it. It just shows a total lack of maturity. I’m sick of people trying to justify this behaviour that would make any other driver majorly hated. I saw a take on TikTok saying that we shouldn’t judge drivers during the adrenaline come down during the race, and this account’s VERY next video was them criticising Max’s radio during the race (you know, when he’s hopped up on adrenaline). Also his fans’ insistence to call the McLaren radios asking him to give the position back “gaslighting” is just infuriating. If anything that was gentle parenting a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Look, I’m known for being a massive Charles fan and usually I ride or die but I accept my driver fucks up sometimes—like in Spain when he chose to blow up at his teammate at Carlos’ home race. Maybe not the best timing and he did come across as a bit of an asshole. I’m so blatant in my Lando criticism because there doesn’t seem to be any sort of similar self awareness from his fans or understanding of how racing actually works. Lando fans believe that Oscar “made a mistake” by running off before the undercut (still staying ahead of Lando!) and therefore Lando should have been allowed to win, or that Lando put six seconds on Oscar after the undercut. Both display such blatant disregard of the truth, the nature of racing, and the way that strategy can build gaps that aren’t immediately obvious. There’s also the factor that Oscar listened to tyre saving commands and Lando pushed in order to try and make a point.

Overall, my opinion on Lando could change again if he starts showing grace and maturity but as long as him and his frankly insane legions of teenage fans keep being whiny, I have absolutely no sympathy whatsoever!

[farfromstrange]

Unicorns Need Love Too | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Your hormones make existing a living hell sometimes. Thankfully, Matt is there to help

Warnings: Fluff, self-indulgent, suggestive language, heavy allusions to smut (MINORS DNI), attempt at humor, not proof-read

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is a brain fart because I, myself, have a pimple in the middle of my forehead and I feel like a fucking unicorn. I don't even know if it's any good. Just have at it & enjoy!

The few weeks leading up to your period are always the most chaotic and the most draining, but over the years, you have gotten used to only having a few days out of four weeks every month where you feel somewhat normal.

The days between ovulation and the actual start of a new period are probably the worst though—together with the week of hell that follows, of course.

Matt loves it when you ovulate. Your boyfriend’s heightened senses make it possible for him to smell the change in your pheromones, and they drive him borderline insane. It doesn’t help that you always seem to need him more than air when you’re in that fertile window of your cycle, and even though you’re not interested in having a family, he always has to fill you to the brim until you’re overflowing with his cum. Alone the thought of that makes his cock painfully hard.

Unfortunately, though, your body’s desperate need for pleasure isn’t the only side of you that comes out during that week. Every month, Matt discovers something new about you. Every month, he finds something new to love, and he finds strange quirks of yours that may seem odd to him at first, but he still adores them as much as he adores the rest of you.

 “Why does it smell like a chemical plant here?” He pokes his head into the bathroom, his chiseled body dressed in the red leather of his Daredevil suit, minus the cowl and his gloves. 

You turn to him from the sink. Your eyes roam over his body before they land on his face, meeting his unfocused gaze. “It’s my skincare,” you answer.

What did he think you were doing? Building a chemical weapon? Cooking meth? He would have been able to smell that much more clearly than your skincare products.

“What are you using?” Matt asks, leaning against the doorframe in all his glory as he slides those beautifully thick fingers of his into his leather gloves.

Your eyebrow quips. “Salicylic acid. Why?”

The way he looks at you, forehead slightly wrinkled as he frowns, reminds you of a concerned parent when their child has found a sharp object to play with. 

“That smells dangerous.”

You shrug, continuing to rub the solution into your skin. “It pulls the gunk out of my pores.”

“And that works?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. His expression remains wary. “Just don’t inhale it.” 

“Matt, this isn’t the first time I’ve used it. I’ve had acne since I was a teenager,” you remind him.

A small smile plays on his lips, mirroring yours. “I know. Just want you to be careful, that's all.”

You put the tube down, turning your whole body to him. “I have never heard of death by skincare,” you say, “but I’ll be careful. Promise.”

The answer, albeit a bit sarcastic, satisfies him. Matt fastens his gloves with a happy little nod. “Thank you. I’ll, uh, be back in a few hours,” he says, coming over to press a kiss to the top of your head, his hand cradling the back of it. “Don’t wait up. You’re drained.”

You open your mouth to protest, “I can wait for you.”

“Not at this point of your cycle. You’re going to be cranky tomorrow.”

You’re aware that Matt knows your body inside and out. He knows you better than you could ever know yourself. He can sense things that even you can’t pick up on. At first, it was something you had to get used to, but you have grown accustomed to his heightened senses and the perks they bring with them. 

Tipping your chin in his direction, you retort, “I’m not sure if I should take offense to that.”

“Don’t,” Matt says nonchalantly. “If I had an organ lose its shit every month because it wants to be fertilized, putting you through the works to prepare you for it, and then cause me to bleed and cramp uncontrollably for a week straight as revenge when I refuse to let a myriad of sperm play tag you’re it inside me, I’d get cranky too.”

That description sounds almost too perfect. You lean forward to capture his plump lips in another passionate kiss. “Fair point. Be safe, please.”

“Always.”

“That’s a lie,” you say. 

“I promise, I’ll be safe.”

“That’s better.”

He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Love you,” he says, and he kisses you one last time.

Whenever he goes out at night, Matt kisses you as if you are never going to see him again. It’s a possibility you have often cried over. You’ve obsessed over everything that could go wrong. 

He has had way too many close calls for you to take anything he does for granted, and when he kisses you like that, like he is afraid of losing you as well, you at least know that he will try his everything to make it back to you in one piece—even if it’s a mangled piece. 

“I love you too,” you murmur. 

That’s another thing about his kisses: they have the ability to render you speechless.

A slight gust of wind brushes through your hair when the door to the rooftop exit opens, and when you open your eyes, Matt is gone. The living room is lulled in darkness. 10:13 pm. You start counting down the hours, praying once again to all Gods above that he will be okay tonight.

• • •

When Matt comes home a few hours later, he finds you passed out on your shared bed, your limbs tangled in the silk sheets that smell of him and you, and even more you.

He isn’t injured, more ramped up with adrenaline than anything, but he doesn’t want to disturb your peaceful slumber, so he settles down on the couch instead. It doesn’t take long for the night to crash into him, and he collapses. He doesn’t even have it in him to make it back to bed.

You wake up in a cold sweat when your alarm goes off the next morning, but the open bedroom door and Matt’s snoring figure on the couch tell you that he is alive and well. That’s a good sign. If he’s asleep and not injured, you have nothing to worry about. 

That is what you think until you see your reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

Matt wakes to the sound of a loud groan. Suddenly awake and alert, he takes a look around the apartment. Nothing is out of place, except—you’re missing. 

He gets up and knocks on the bathroom door. It’s locked. “Sweetheart,” he calls out softly. “You okay in there? Can you open the door?”

“No,” you reply. Your voice is slightly muffled through the wood, but he can still hear your labored breathing and your elevated heartbeat loud and clear.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Because I look hideous.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “I don’t know if you‘ve heard, but I’m blind.”

You groan again, more defeated this time. You seem to plop down on the edge of the bathtub. “Oh, shut up!” you snap. “This is as much a visual as it is a textural issue.”

“As in what? You’ve grown fur and a tail overnight?” Matt can’t help but muse a little. “Because even if you turned into a wolf or a worm, I would still love you. You know that.”

“Matt, this isn’t funny. My acne is escalating.”

Now you sound sad, and he starts feeling bad. 

He touches his palm against the door. “But you used those acids last night,” his words land much softer. “I thought they were supposed to help with your acne.”

“Apparently fucking not ‘cause my fertile window is pretty much still wide open, and I think I felt myself ovulate this morning.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just some pimples, sweetheart. It’s not the end of the world.”

Matt realizes too late that he may have chosen his words poorly. You take a deep breath, and for a moment he believes you’re just going to say, but then you shout at him, “EASY OF YOU TO SAY, MISTER I-ALWAYS-HAVE-FLAWLESS-SKIN!”

He winces, dropping his forehead next to his palm. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What can I do?” he asks. “Get you a paper bag?”

You must have smoke coming out of your ears by now. “Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear to God–”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’m just trying to cheer you up.” He knocks again. “Can you please let me in? I want to hug you. You sound sad.”

A pregnant pause follows. The silence settles deep into his bones. He can still hear your heartbeat, but he can’t judge what you’re thinking. Then, he hears your bare feet pat against the floor. The lock clicks, and you finally open the door. 

“I look like the last fucking unicorn, Matt,” you say. “I’m an endangered species.”

Matt’s arms find your waist, and he pulls you against him. You don’t protest. “You don’t feel like a unicorn. You don’t even have the body of a horse.”

The beginning of a smile that was growing on your face vanishes within seconds, and you stare up at him. He can feel your gaze burning through his skull, a look of utter astonishment on your face. That is how he imagines you, anyway. 

“Just a pimple on your forehead,” he adds because he realizes his words are failing to get his point across in all possible ways.

You bury your face in his chest. “Oh, fuck off!”

“What? Pimples are natural and nothing to be ashamed of, especially not when your body is full of hormones that are making your day a living hell.”

“I feel ashamed because I look like a very fucking ugly unicorn!”

“You’re not ugly,” he insists, patiently so, knowing that this is just another side of you that comes out when you’re overwhelmed by the sheer force of your hormonal cycle. “If anything,” Matt says, “you’re a cute unicorn.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m a pissed-off unicorn who’s ovulating, which makes her sad and horny with a fucking stuffed and inflamed pore on her freaking forehead!”

“I can do something about the horniness, but I can’t make the pimple go away. I’m sorry.”

“UGH!” For a moment, he thinks you’re going to hit his chest with your balled fist, but instead, you tangle your fingers in his shirt.

He rubs his large hand along your spine. “Come here.” Almost naturally, his nose buries itself in your hair. “Do you have those patch thingies you always use when you break out?” he asks. 

“I ran out,” you say. 

“Should I get them for you on my way home from work?”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he says.

Your smile is unmistakable. “I want the heart-shaped ones.”

“Because they make you feel cute?”

“Yeah.”

Matt chuckles anew. “Okay. I’ll get you those.”

“Thank you.” Sniff.

He tilts his head to the side. “Did you just sniff me?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you shamelessly admit as you suck in a breath again, inhaling his distinctive scent. “You smell good.”

“I didn’t even shower last night. I passed out on the couch.”

“Oh God, that makes it worse!” You shove him away. “I’m getting turned on by the smell of your sweat.”

His giggles turn into laughter. “How about I shower first and then you can sniff me again?” Matt opens his arms as if he just made an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse. 

But you can. Because Matt showering and washing the scent of danger off his beautiful skin is the last thing you want, and if your body is satisfied, maybe the storm in your mind will finally calm down, too. 

You stop him. “No. Don’t shower.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No,” you say. “You said you can help me with my horniness, right? That was part of the deal?”

The brown of his irises gets overtaken by the black of his pupils. “I did say that, didn’t I?” 

“Uh-huh. So, no shower. And I could really use a hand. Or two. And quite possibly your cock, too.”

Matt smirks. “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he purrs. “I’m all yours.”

You’re about to kiss him when you realize, “The unicorn pimple–”

“Don’t care. I've heard somewhere that unicorns need love too.” He cradles your face in his hands. “And I intend to do that shamelessly for the next hour and a half.”

The bathroom door falls closed behind the two of you as he uses his strength to guide you back inside, and a kiss is all it takes for you to shut up and surrender yourself to him completely.

Unicorn pimple be damned!

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