#I've heard so many bullshit excuses

[just-broken-thoughts]

Why do they always say: "I was reading the text on your top," or "oh, I was just daydreaming," while they actually mean: "I was staring at your boobs because they're spectacular."

Men always look at a woman’s heart first, it’s not our fault her boobs are in the way

[mrsbarnesblog]

one step at a time

masterlist

summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.

words count: 6.5k

warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending

a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘

You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.

Rafe Cameron.

He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.

Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 

The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 

Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 

You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 

“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.

“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 

“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”

Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 

Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 

“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 

“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 

“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”

Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 

Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 

Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 

“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 

You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 

“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.

“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.

You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 

After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 

You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 

You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.

The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  

“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 

“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 

You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 

That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 

“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 

When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 

Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 

Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 

At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.

It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  

The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.

It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”

Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.

“She cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”

“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.

“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 

He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.

What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.

Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.

He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.

Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.

“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“

“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.

“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.

“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”

“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 

After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 

As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 

But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 

You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 

You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.

“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”

He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 

“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 

In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.

“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.

“I care about you. You are my friend.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 

You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”

“Yesterday morning.” 

“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 

Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 

You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 

Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 

You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 

But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 

As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 

The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 

It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 

After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 

He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 

Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 

Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 

Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 

A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 

Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you

k, i’ll be there in fifteen

When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 

That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 

You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 

“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 

“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 

How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?

“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.

“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.

Touchy, but never overstepping. 

“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 

“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 

You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 

The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 

You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 

“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 

“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 

“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 

You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 

“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 

“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 

You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.

Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.

You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.

A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.

You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 

Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 

“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.

“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.

“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”

“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.

“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”

You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.

And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 

The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.

"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."

You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sisters who care about you too.”

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts. 

[starmada4546]

The Derailing Trump Train

This essay is by-and-large for people like me who regularly have to deal with conservative family members or coworkers or whatever godawful thing makes you have to put up with these kinds of people. If that's not you, the advice in this one probably isn't going to be very helpful, but you're welcome to stick around for the analysis, if you like.

As the veneer of moderate, respectable conservatism slips away, people are going to start getting their buyers remorse. I've already heard people discussing how they aren't fond of Trump's policy on Ukraine, or his tariffs, or how Elon Musk is slashing federal jobs and giving himself multibillion dollar contracts. Its... highly frustrating to say the least. When I hear a very conservative uncle talking about how Trump's promised tax cuts don't include him, it makes me want to scream "How the fuck can you possibly be so selfish?! You people have had almost a decade to realize this man is a serious contender for Worst Human Alive and the only time you can start caring is when it impacts you?!"It really hurts to see a man who has spent the last decade fanning the flames of fascism, destroying lives, spreading bigotry, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, only lose his supporters after he starts hurting them specifically.

For those unfamiliar, there's a meme on the internet that many people like to quote in these sorts of situations. It goes something like "'But I didn't think the leopards would eat my face!' sobs woman who voted for the leopards eating people's faces party."

Since the original incident that started this meme, Leopards Ate My Face has become a term that refers to conservatives who voted for a conservative politician who proceeded to do something to hurt them, usually because said conservative voter didn't bother to figure out what said politician actually stood for. It's a popular meme for good reason; it's cathartic to laugh at the comeuppance of others, right?

I generally speaking disagree. This sort of thing drives me absolutely up the wall. It's selfish people finally getting hurt by their own selfishness, but in a vast majority of cases, those selfish people still won't accept they were ever actually in the wrong. It's always that they were lied to, or that the circumstances changed, or some other bullshit excuse that serves the same rhetorical purpose: I can't possibly have been wrong, so something outside my control intervened. This is, of course, demonstrating a key feature of the conservative mindset, which is the fundamental lack of self accountability. If there was any acknowledgement that everything that was going to happen was well known in advance, that political scholars and economists and journalists were Screaming From The Fucking Rooftops that this was going to happen, they'd have to acknowledge that there were steps they could have taken to have not caused harm for themselves, because in the fundamental selfish narcissism of conservative thought, the only thing that is immutably morally wrong is anything that hurts me.

If there was any acknowledgement that they could have done five minutes of research to keep from committing the most egregious of moral sins, doing something against their own interests, they'd have to accept that they bear the responsibility for that. So it is always, always, someone else's fault. Any evidence they could have used is dismissed out of hand; the news stations are lying, the economists are profiteering hacks, and the political scholars are propagandists.

But go far enough down the train tracks, they start running out of people to blame. When they're far enough out from the election that the opinions and writings of the fourth estate don't matter to them anymore, the republicans control all three branches of government, and most of what vestiges of leftism still exist in the government are seemingly hellbent on being the most ineffectual, pathetic doormats in the history of opposition parties, the list from the center of the Venn Diagram of "People who I think have the power to screw me over" and "People who I hate," starts growing dangerously short for their cognitive dissonance. It may not often seem like it, but there is a limit to how far these people can stretch and distort their own reality.

This is where we see the step of most groups built on ideologies of hate, supremacy, and/or exploitation wherein the members of the group begin to turn on each other, or at the least to begin their own balkanization. Remember, the very last person they can blame for their woes is themselves. They will blame anyone and everyone else, including their Der Fuhrer before they go that far. If they start running out of people to blame, they find new ones.

(This also mirrors a key feature of fascism, where when an outgroup can no longer be reasonably blamed for the problems of a society due to their absence or lack of cultural relevance, and are replaced with new outgroups, thereby making the ingroup smaller and smaller, but I'm sure that's only a coincidence, wink wink nudge nudge.)

So, after analyzing the toxic narcissism inherent to this worldview, I'm gonna go ahead and proceed to light myself on fire with napalm by defending it.

Ok ok, I'm not actually going to defend it. But I am going to ask for it to be encouraged?

This behavior is absolutely fucking terrible, don't get me wrong, but it is also self destructive, at least as far as cohesive fascist movements go. When they start pointing the blame fingers at each other, that is the death knell for fascism. Fascism exists because it's an ideology of hate, but it proliferates because it doesn't market itself that way. It markets itself as a series of benefits for the average everyman, which are obtained through bigotry. When those benefits don't materialize, which they can't, because bigotry has never served anyone but those who already hold all the power, it creates resentment and distrust. This is usually where the fascists point at something else and say "Look, a minority!" but that strategy only works for so long before it becomes put-up or shut-up.

So believe me, when that conservative uncle complains about Trump's tax cuts and you just want to go ballistic, I understand that sucks. But I urge you, smile and nod. It's a low bar at this point, but he's taking a second to think about it. Maybe it isn't going to get him to take his head out of the Kool-Aid fountain, but resentment and distrust don't start a violent boil overnight. In fact, we don't need a violent boil. We don't necessarily need for these people to start voting for democrats, we just need them to decide they'd rather not bother heading to the polls on election day. A small simmer is enough.

Because eventually, when Trump strips enough of the iron off of the track, the train derails.

In the wise and seemingly eternal words of Sun Tzu, "Never interrupt your enemy while he is making a mistake."

[chondrichthyes-x-mantodea]

I've been struggling with physical health lately, and I HATE the medical field

I feel like womens health is such a big trigger to me. I see something about "if your childhood looks like this, then time to schedule a pap smear," trying to be all quirky... like it all feels wrong. Im recently having issues with menstruation, and I just learned that my grandmother had endometriosis. Im worried that, if it gets worse, I'll have to go through all the bullshit other women talk about. Someone else said it perfectly, its baby machine maintenance. The medical system screams and pisses over the possibility that a woman loses her sex appeal (breasts) and cervix/uterus (reproduction). But why is it that they deny the possibility of ovarian cysts or cancer? They are so desperate to shove a speculum in your vagina but are so reluctant to do an ultrasound. My theory is that if you have cervical cancer, you could lose your ability to gestate. If you have ovarian, you can get an egg donor. Idk, maybe I'm wrong, because without ovaries, you would lose hormone synthesis (however you would probably take supplements), but it's something to think about. They're obsessed with inserting random tools made by men into your vagina as soon as you hit puberty, but not for your sake. Also, the number of stories I've heard of women who had many mammograms but it was only caught at a late stage years later??? Men aren't pressued nearly as much nor at as early of an age, yet it seems women suffer more from cancer (I would have to view statistics. That's just observation). Again, I'm not a medical professional, but it's definitely an area that concerns me. The insistence on getting checked seems more like breeding stock monitoring than comfort and health of female patients, the vibe around it in general screams this with how forceful they are on this subject yet how little they care.

Excuse any improper grammar or messy writing it's just getting on my nerves.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑆𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒

Summary: Black Family sucked. That's what your friends, your family and boyfriend said. They were obsessed with being "pure" and ready to do anything to achieve that... But none of you would have known exactly what measures they would go.

A/N: I went overboard with this one, and had to seperate it to two parts. So, hopefully, next week, you guys will have a second part. But I'm sleepy while uploading this so... Forgive me if there are some mistakes, I'll fix them later. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Trigger Warning: Mentions of torture and abuse, some very slight make out mentions(?), typical Black family, 8.2K words.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Pureblood!Fem!Reader

Prompts: "No one makes me smile the way you do.", "I've always loved that about you.", " I know I don't say it a lot, but I really do love you." and "You're all I'll ever need to feel better." from this prompt list ; 3,6,7,8,9, 19, 22, 29, 30 and 31 from the kissing prompts 4 of my "SUMMER CELEBRATION" event.

Part2

Regulus wasn't seen.

It wasn't like he wasn't at the school where you both called your home, he definetly was. There were glimpses of him in lessons, or Quidditch practices, there were slight whispers of his rich and silky voice as he spoke to his friends in the Great Hall, one that you could always catch no matter where or when. It was the same voice that whispered you sweet good mornings, the same voice that told you soft spoken, full of love and adoration, words as he danced with you in somewhere away from the prying eyes, his own blue-ish gray ones looking extra ethereal and captivating at the moonlight that shone on both of you, contouring his sharp face so beautifully that often left you speechles.

Speechles at how this amazing, caring and loving boy was yours. And he often felt the same about you, about how lucky he was for finding you in that library corner, drowning in books and hair messy, at his lowest point.

A point where no one really made it an effort to listen to him, to know him.

By his friends, his parents... His own brother.

But, even if he wasn’t heard or seen by his family, Regulus Black was seen in Hogwarts, by many others... But not you.

Not today.

He was avoiding you.

It hurted you whenever he distanced himself. He often did this, but even then, he would tell you that he just needed to be alone and gather his thoughts after a kiss to your forehead and then return a few hours later with your favourite dessert from one of the house elves. They even learnt when to bake them for him and you, after witnessing how bice you treated them and such, they were happy to stay awake a few more hours so that you two could be happy.

And of course, you understood that everyone could need some alone time in this hectic life, Regulus more than anyone, but this much of being alone...

He didn't even come to dinner time, instead saying some bullshit about wanting to sleep and tell you to eat with your friends after a soft kiss to your cheeks and a short kiss to your lips. He would always lay some on your lips, and even pepper your whole face with them. His kisses were always so passionate, they left you a breathless mess at the place he kissed you, making you jump on him as you both laughed in delight.

Be it his dorm, you would jump on the bed and you two would play fight, looking into each others eyes as he would hover over you, a hand on your waist with a thight grip as his breath fanned your face, his nose touching yours as he would muzzle his to your neck. You are beautiful, he would whisper before his kisses would turn urgent and you both’s clothes would soon be thrown away at somewhere.

Regulus Black was a passionate young man, someone who felt deeply... But that passion was slowly dying.

And it was your greatest fear coming true.

“Excuse me, guys... I don’t have an appeatite...” you slowly got up as you looked at them, apologizing with your eyes. People always thought them to be such fuckers but Barty and Evan, as long as they weren’t in their teasing romance, were actually great friends of you and Regulus... Barty was the first one who adopted you in the group, back before you were sorted in any houses, in the train and... Perhaps, you were the only one they loved in another house.

“Where are ya goin’? Ya haven’ eaten anythin’?” Barty pointed to your plate as a sheepish look came over you, lips tugging to a sweet smile, hoping that he would let it pass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the puppy eyes, not for the 97th time, had Evan not pointed to who was missing on their table as well.

“looking for her boyfriend, I see...” you gave a sad smile at Evan as he nodded to the entrance of the Great Hall. He, too, was aware that something was... more wrong with the Black as well, but none of them could come close enough to question him without getting blasted off. “Go. That boy never admits, but he is very dependant on you... He needs you.”

But, if there was anyone who could do that... And perhaps, it was you he wanted to have with him, it would be you.

He had seen from first-hand experience how good you affected the boy, how he seemed happier. Though he would always tease him for the heart eyes he sent your way, or how he would get up from his seat and hug you at the entrance of the Great Hall as soon as he sees you, and also accompany you to his side as you talked with his friends and then, sit with you in your side of the table with your friends at lunch time or dinner, he was glad he found some solace in you.

He was aware of the “pureblood nonsense” most “pureblood” families believed in, his and Blacks for example, and did anything to make their children believe in it too. Regulus was still considered lucky in his eyes, for having Sirius protecting him since he didn’t have someone that would protect him.

And now that they were friends, there was no way in hell that he would allow him to relapse into those bad thoughts that could never actualy stop swirl in his head.

You beamed at Evan as your sprinted from them, Evan yelling after you that they would bring some food for you two while Barty hissed about you not doing any funny business. Evan elbowed him hard as Barty whined about how Regulus was becoming soft, and pink, and domestic around him so much that he couldn’t take it anymore. I love our girlie, and cold bitch of a friend but they both make me... sick...

You couldn’t care less about what they said though. Your mind was only on Regulus and how in pain he looked earlier, even when he tried to hide it behind his steel look. You wondered if it was the anniversary of his brother leaving him behind, but quickly checked it out. Maybe his parents were strict and harsh to him again? But he always said he was used to their harsh ways of teaching...

And now that you stopped in front of the the door seperating you from the Slytherin Common Room... You realized that you didn’t know much about your own boyfriend as much as you were supposed to. And that thought made you frown as you looked down for a moment. You knew how... intense things can get with the “pureblood thing”, even though your family wasn’t that harsh when it came to that ideology, you could only imagine what was going on behind the Black household’s closed door by what Sirius had told you.

Pain, screams and suffering enough to make even the strongest wizard or witch cry their eyes out, just to escape, just to... end it all.

Much like the sniffles coming from insidehis dorm after you entered, sniffles that did nothing to ease your nervousness.

And there he was, your absolutely soft and loving and perfect boyfriend, laying on his side as he clutched his cushion thightly while sobbing uncontrollably , his body heaving up and down as his cries rolled off his tongue and reached your ears. Your heart clenched painfully at the heartbroken boy before you, twisting an invisible knife deeper and deeper with each of his cries as you slowly walked up to him and sat down on the bed, alerting him to your presence before putting your hand on his shoulder and caressing his shoulder comfortingly with sad eyes.

“Reggie...” you knew how he hated that nickname, even throwing a fit to Evan how he didn’t like, though he always said he preferred only you to say it, so when he didn’t react even at that name, you sprinted to his other side after applying a locking charm to the door, guessing he would want to be alone with you right now withour anyone barging in.

At first, he tried to deny you and your touch, but you were persistent. When you said yes to date him, you made a promise to him that day: even if your ways split, you would still be there for him through thick and thin.

You wouldn’t ve another person who left him alone.

“I’m not leaving, I’m here... You’re safe, Regulus...”

And perhaps, it was the way your voice so softly comforted him and how your hands glided through his black curls, or maybe he was too tired after crying his heart out. Whatever it was, he suddenly got up and launched at you, burrying his face to your neck as you sat down on your butt and swayed him from side to side like a baby. Regulus was a man who fought until his last breath, someone who rebelled silently, someone who stood on his ground so strictly that you often thought there would be nothing that could break him.

What happened to him to make him turn into a mess?

What did they do this time?

He was talking, rambling about how bad it was and how she was gonna kill him for it but you didn’t know what “it” was. Your frown hardened by each passing second as his rambles got more intense with fear, fear of his own mother.

“ I-I h-had to leave... I had to leave there, Y/N! They... They wanted-“ another choked sob raked through him as you hugged him even thighter than previously, lifting his head in a hurry and desperately searching for your eyes, to see if you believed him, if you were trully there, if you were... real.

You held onto his face softly, running your thumb up amd down through the bridge of his nose as you kissed his lips to prove to him that you were real, and he was safe in Hogwarts, making him feel all of you as his tears wet your lips, leaving a bitter taste at your tongue.

Not from the salty taste, but the pain they held.

Your mind already finished his sentence without him actually doing so. Because there was only one thing you both feared, one thing that kept him awake at most nights...

One thing that made him cry onto your shoulders that much...

“Did they... Did they do it?” your shaky whisper shook him from the half-trance he was in, and your question made you shiver as if You-Know-Who’s hands were around your neck, your shoulders, the death and chaos that followed him around reeking even in the comforting bubble you two had in Regulus’ dorm.

He shook his head as his hands twisted the silk of your robe. “No... Bella came to the house, said that she wanted to take me to him... The Dark Lord. She said it would be an honor to fight for his cause...” he paused  to gulp down the bile that rose to his throat, clenching his eyes shut and focusing on your comforting smell and warmth. He slowly calmed down and looked at you with his ocean blue eyes, wondering how it was possible for you to net be like his own family, how you were so kind and different than others. When he first saw you in the Great Hall, everyone was looking at you in awe, some were jealous and some were scared. Mostly half-bloods and muggle-borns who was now aware of your family and how in danger they were with a school full of purebloods who mostly wanted to get rid of them.

But just as your kindness and warmth eased him many times, they eased those who once feared you as you welcomed them all happily with open arms, making them promise to turn to you if something were troubling them. You proved everyone that you and your family wasn’t like those psychopaths who was hellbent on killing them, even if it made you be branded as “blood-traitor”. You didn’t seem like you cared much about it, rather spending time with your friends even when nasty Slytherins threw insults at you. All you did was to flip them off and go back to whatever you were doing...

And this was why he hesitated to talk to you at the beginning, both from his family status and the nasty comments that would be thrown at you from his house in Hogwarts. He thought you were only kind to muggle-borns and half-breeds since they were being bullied constantly and, harsh to the purebloods who insulted you.

And he was a pureblood... which meant that you would defiently flip him off and even hurt him.

Which proved to be wrong soon, when he cautiously walked up to you in potion class and asked for help as you turned around and gave him a wide smile as you patted the spot next to you. He didn’t want to think back to how close you two were as you listed the ingredients behind him and looked from his head and down at the cauldron to see if he was doing it right.

But it was the happiest he had ever been as you smiled at him and patted his back proudly as you called for the Professor and showed him your works. That was the moment he realized that he could talk to you without any fear, and also, come to you with some of his problems whether you were able to solve them or not. But perhaps, the biggest discovery about his first meeting with you was...

Knowing deep down that he would fall for you, and your dedication for those close to you.

He was proven right, and it was also a joy to realize this as much as it pained him.  He knew with what kind of burden he came, and he didn’t want to do that to you. It wasn’t fair to such a sunshine person like you. But he had been a bit more selfish than he wanted to admit in his life, and he needed a light... A hope that showed him, told him that his days that was often covered with darkness would be gone soon.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, to have you return his feelings almost 2 years ago, but he was so damn glad to Merlin that you were in his life, that you were his light, his saviour.

Just a few minutes ago, he was miserable and scared and didn’t know what else to do. He felt like he was cornered like a wild, hurt animal, not knowing or seeing a way out.

But at least... He had you, he would always have you.

It wasn’t like he didn't come clean with this, his family and how they supported Voldemort. It was actually one of the main reasons that even if he loved you, his heart called for you, he would never try to court you. He couldn’t bring himself to be the reason your smile would fall, the reason you would be dragged into his mess.

But still... Both of you naively thought that he had more time, that you both had more time to act like a normal couple living a pink romance.

That was what you wanted to have. For Regulus to feel safe and happiness, away from the tragedy that was his family.

Apparently, Merlin had other plans.

“B-But... You’re still in school? I thought they wouldn’t...” your voice died down as horror filled you for what was coming to your ways. You were aware of their bond with the Dark Lord, and that they would make either him or Sirius join the DeathEaters too. Sirius was safe now that he ran away and seeked help from James, and you were happy for him. Sirius, James and Remus were your friends anyways, you loved hanging out with them or tutoring them.

Which meant almost all the time.

They were nice people, happy to help you at any time and anywhere, or well, every person who they loved and cherished...

That was exactly why you didn’t understand when Sirius appeared in James’ house alone, leaving his little brother, 14 at that time, alone in such a “hellhole”.

Alone and defenceless, crying much like now as he curled in a ball...

But deep down, you knew that Sirius was worried about him too. You knew him, and listened to him as he cried to you about how he wasn’t used to feeling safe and how worried sick he was for his brother. Something must have happened for Regulus to not let him come with his brother, and Sirius to not drag him away from that house.He, after all, was a stubborn little shit whether the situation was good or not.

 But whatever it was that made both of them not to talk for months and reconcile, it came back to bite everyone’s ass.

“I know, love... I know...” he kissed the tip of your nose as he tried to comfort you back, feeling your fear as his. That was one of the reasons why he fell for you: You felt everyone’s pain even when they really didn’t deserve it.

And though he liked watching you get protective and help someone out while he stood behind and admired you, the tears sitting at the corner of your lovely eyes did nothing but break him even more as he wiped them away, kissing just under your eyes softly, afraid of inflicting you with even more pain.

“That’s what I said, that I should finish school first but... Mother said it was full of dirty wizards and witches, muggleborns and half-bloods. She said I was better off without all those scums....” your brows furrowed at how Walburga Black was so... full of hatred at those who wasn’t like her, her sons included. You probably never saw another human who was so full of hatred, her negativity pouring as venom, trying to poison everyone just as she once was. You had a good guess of why she was like this, why she always threw hatred and so many curses on practically everyone.

After all, none of her sons turned out to be like the Black family. Both of them didn’t support the “Pureblood nonsense” like they did, and Sirius was brave enough to rebel against them while Regulus did it more silently. He showed himself to be just like the perfect Black heir, did everything they asked for and stood tall against them.

He wasn’t brainwashed by them, and though they weren’t proud of him- and could never be- You were so damn proud for him, just like a certain older brother.

You didn’t know it but Regulus, had it been not for you, he feared he would have actually believed in them and what they said, solely for the reason that he wanted them to love him, to acknowledge him as a son. They wanted perfection and he wanted to be perfect, he needed to be perfect.

Because if he wasn’t... Who would he be to anyone?

You are Regulus Arcturus Black, he remembers you telling him after he finally came clean to you about what was in his mind, after asking you out. He was so sure you would decline, laugh it off or anything remotely that told him you didn’t feel the same, before he felt your soft hands slowly taking hold of his downcasted head as his eyes widened in surprise at how... content you looked with the same smile that ignited a fire deep in his soul that it never died, and would never do.. And you are a great man who is kind, strong and powerful, brave too! You are my favourite person in the whole world and I’ll spend an eternity reminding of who you are... Starting with, my boyfriend.

Silence scretchted between you two as he smiled softly at the memory, a perfect one to cast a Patronus perhaps. He desperately wished that this was one of those times you sneaked into his dorm for a nightly fate when he would for sure know that you would scare away all the demons in his head...

But unfortunately, the reality was something else. Something even more demonic and evil than the usual nightmares that haunted him.

Something that tore both him and you apart by how scary it was.

“What did you do... Regulus, did you do it?” he didn’t speak, just took your hands and put them on his sleeve, wanted you to look yourself. Because he didn’t have enough energy anymore. Suddenly, as you slowly pulled his sleeve up, the reality of what would have happened if he didn’t fight against them crashed him.

He would never see you saunter into the Great Hall every time, he wouldn’t sneak out in the middle of the night to have a late night date with you, he wouldn’t be the one to walk with you to your next class, he wouldn’t wait for you for food, he wouldn’t go to Hogsmeade and look at you as you begged to have some more candy from Honey &Dukes, he wouldn’t watch as yougot embrassed cutely...

He wouldn’t be there to love you, and you wouldn’t be there to love him.

You took a sharp intake of breath as you felt his skin over his dress shirt, as if somehow, you would feel the dark tint of the skull and snake symbol over his forearm. You would never judge him, never dare to do such thing. How could you, when you knew how much pain he would have to endure for it, knowing how much it would hurt him?

If that happened, if he yielded and accepted-or rather forced to- you would surely feel helpless and scared, for him. But then, there would absolutely be nothing stopping you from taking him to safety, and possibly going apeshit crazy at them for doing something, something he didn’t want to, on him.

“I just... I just wanted to be enough, for them t-to just... love us.” Your heart broke as stray tears escaped your eyes at how broken he sounded, how even amidst his pain, he still cated for his brother. Regulus took your silence and gasp as a bad sign, he murmured sadly with his eyes downcasted once more as he rubbed your tender flesh. He already felt like a total douchebag, including the voice that screamed at him that he was just like his family with you crying in front of him and him not being able to do anything, that he didn’t deserve anything good in life. And your soft cries didn’t help how he already felt helpless either.

“Don’t cry, love... I know that’s stupid but-“

“No it's no... Not if it’s making you feel like this...” you murmured as you took his hand between yours, squeezing his elegant and long fingers one by one as a way to comfort him as he smiled down at you, seated on his bed as the silky green color complimented you in the best way possible. His eyes looked at your body as the light casted on you made you look ethereal and take his breath away with your beauty. He looked down at your hands as they caressed his hands and wrist comfortingly, before pulling it up to reveal... smooth skin, without any dark ink covering it.

But...

Your hands stopped at feeling a bump on his perfect skin... A bump that wasn’t to be there... Alongside with bruises and yellow-ish tints on his arm...

“T-They... They did crucio o-on you?” you stammered out as you lofted his arm closer to yourself, looking between him and the bruises he had with wide eyes.

“Bella...” he said sadly as his hands clutched your arm thight, as if his life depended on you. And in a way, it did. You were his whole life, the only thing he had, and he would be nothing without you. “She did it, later mother beat me and threw insults and crucio at me...”

“I didn’t even say anything at first... Until she included you.  How she would destroy you, ruin you since you were being a distraction to me and what was more important.” He explained as he took your hands between his and kissed them, a gesture that often left you a blushing mess, and continued. “That’s when I decided that it was enough. That all the pain she inflicted on us, on me was over. I had a life, my life... I would never let her or anyone hurt you, so I fought back and... well, you know the rest.” He mumbled shyly as he peered at you, trying to determine what the effect of his words were to you. Flushed cheeks and wide eyes? That’s something he expected. Shuffling like a cat in embrassment? Also expected, that was something you usually did with him which was another thing that he found adorable.

But what wasn’t expected was what left your mouth.

“I’ve always loved that about you...” you whispered out eith softest eye possible and this time, it was the Regulus Black who blushed.

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged your shoulders as he frowned, but upon you not looking at him and the sudden urge to hide yourself, he smirked and threw his arms around your waist to pull you against him as he nuzzled his face to your neck while your hands played with his curls. He was glad that once sad and bad vibe left to a more pleasant and happy one as he shared this moment with you, with hugging and kissing.

You giggled as the ticklish feeling his lips left on yourbskin made you groan while trying to stop him, so that you could get those words out. You loved his kisses and how they made you feel, but you had to say this... Or else it would eat you alive, and then you would be frowning the whole next day.

“I mean-hey, stop! I’m trying to be romantic here!” you swatted his hand away as it slowly slithered upwards aling the expanse of your naked back, ruhhing circles on the flesh there as he hummed. “I thought it was my thing, love?”

“Yeah, but now, I changed it! It’s mine now, you did it a lot. Now, will you please listen, my pretty and handsome boyfriend?”

“Hmm... Gotta think, love... Maybe after a kiss?” he wiggled his brows playfully as you rolled your eyes but did so, smiling into the soft and lingering kiss you both shared.

Ugh, this boy... Always looking for way to smooch me...

“Now that you had your kiss,” you said after being parted from him, panting at the intensity of the kiss and trying hard to not dive back at the sight of his pink and swollen lips, you continued with a finger idly rubbing his lips and then his beauty mark under his chin.

“I love your brave heart. Even if you might not think so, you have been standing up against them for so long and you, protecting me even if I wasn’t there further proves it...” you looked at him with a kind look and took his hand to place it on your chest, right where your heart was as you continued.

“I love how you always know how to make me smile, no one makes me smile the way you do, my days better and surprise me. I love how you always seem like you don’t care but actually listen when there is something we, any of us, want or when something is bothering us.”

“I love how thoughtful you are, even when it breaks you... Just like how when Sirius left home, and you came to me crying. Not because you felt anger or hatred, which would have been understanable by the way, but rather joy. Joy, because you knew that it was a new start for him so that he could live a normal life even if it killed you.” A scoff left you in the middle of your speech  remembering how your best friend left his little brother like that but soon disappeared when you remembered how broken he was when he talked about his brother.

Regulus, though, was in shock. Because no one in his life had ever been that thoughful and attentive to the way he felt. No one really saw what was hidden behind his strong façade but yet again, you weren’t “no one” and he was always going to be understood.

From now on, and until forever.

“you don’t think I’m... broken? Bad?” he mumbled as he looked at you through his lashes, head down but still smiling. Your heart soared for the boy before you and you leant down to capture his lips with yours, but not before uttering one lost heartfelt sentence.

“All I know is that I love you, that you deserve everything good in life.”

Regulus sniffled once more as he accepted your kiss, humming happily as he allowed you to deepen it. Little shocks went through his body and he wondered if you felt it too but didn’t dwell on it more. He only accepted your unconditional love.

“I know I don’t say it out loud much, but I really do love you so much... You’re all I’ll ever need to feel better.”

“And I love you, love... So much.” You whispered silently, kissing the topnof his head as he thightened his hold on you. Everything was nice and silent once more, only the sounds from the crickets and owls reaching both of your ears. You kissed his head, his forehead and cheek contionously while he laughed, genuinely laughed since he came back, while trying to make you stop. He knew trying to physically stop you wouldn’t work, so he opted for other ways.

Like, kissing you desperately from your neck as he breathed out to tour most sensitive part of the column of your neck, gracefully out only for him to kiss, to mark.

And he wasn’t wrong. When you felt his hot lips on your neck trailing wet and fast kisses up and down your neck, you gasped and let him do as he wanted. Your legs opened for him to step between them, hovering over you with both of his hands on each side of your head as he gazed at you with love and clear desperation. At that moment, you two weren’t just two lovers who were fucking around.

You two were soulmates that understood each other on another level.

He suddenly stopped his ministrations and just looked down at you from above you for a few seconds before sighing dejectedly.

“I don’t want to live there... But I don’t know where-“

“You are not going back to that place, Regulus. Not again, I won’t allow it.” You sternly cut him as you rose up on your hands, brows knitted together while you pushed yourself up as he lowered back and looked at you as if you were crazy.

“B-but... I have nowhere else to go! They would cut me off of the tapestry and disown me! Sirius had James and-“ he exclaimed in distress as he started to shake again, shaking his head at the sudden panic of the reality and what he was supposed to do. He was so caught up in the comfort he had after so long that he had forgotten about what was waiting for him.

His mother with her wand out to use even mkre gruesome punishments, forcing him to come to their meeting and kill innocents...

He couldn’t get help if they did it, and how would his brother look at him if he were to get that damned mark? He already didn’t consider him as a brother, he would definetly refuse to have anything to do with him after he sees it.

And you? How would you accept him like that? A vicious killer who would have to work for the Dark Lord even if it was the last thing he wanted?

You wouldn’t deserve it, you wouldn’t want it, you wouldn’t love him, you wouldn’t accept him, he would be all alone and then be killed as-

“And you have me..! You could stay with me and my family, you know they would do anything to protect us.”

Your desperate call for him was what made him come back to his senses, from the panic attack he had at just thinking about the possibilities. He didn’t register what you said at first. Inside his mind, there seemed to be a constant whirl and buzzing sound as if he was fighting back against a huge storm and he was just... trying, trying and trying but failing in the end.

But it was because he tried to do it alone. He was never allowed to ask for help since it was a “sign of weakness” as his father called it, but now that he had a different circle of people, different friends and above all you, he didn’t have to fear anything.

The way Regulus broke down at the mere mention of his family house( something that was supposed to be comforting) broke you, the sight of the kind boy you knew being treated that way... You couldn’t allow it anymore. There was no way you were letting him go to that house, back into Walburga’s waiting arms as she was waiting to point that damned wand to her own son and mercilessly torture him.

And, to prevent it, a bright idea came to your mind. Sure, there was a potential that your parents would be shocked, more likely have questions as to why they were hosting the boy but thwy would understand... and hopefully help him out.

“You know how my mum adores you, they would gladly help us both.” You weren’t lying to comfort him or yourself, it was true. Last summer, when you brought him to your house after he told something about his whereabouts to his mother, he stayed with you and he would always be thankful for what you did for him that summer. Because those 3 months were the best he had in a long time. At first, when he witnessed the pure love and care there was between all of you, he felt jealous and angry.

Jealous because he didn’t have, and could never have, what you had. He felt the bitter pangs of knives every time you kissed your parents, they brought you home made meals to your room as you showed him the cool muggle books or listened to songs on your bed as you held hands and looked at each other with lovesick smiles. The way you bravely sneaked into the guest room just to fall asleep with him, to comfort him so that he didn’t feel alone changed him in a way, made him more brave.

You didn’t have to know, but your mum always checked on him during night to see if he was doing fine and smiled whemever she saw you both sleeping while hugging each other as if your lives depended on it.

But even when he was jealous of you and your parents, though never serious, he had a clear mind to judge the situation and then... he realized how they included him to their casual lifes as well, just like you did.

It was like a famy thing, huh?

How your mother requested him to come to the kitchen and later taught him how to cook some meals, tasted what she cooked and even helped her out around the house all the while listening to her talk shit about almost every family in the wizarding world, except Weasleys, with a huge smile on his face.

He could never dare to do that in his own house, but here, in your own... He was sitting with your mother on the kitchen with a cup of tea and biscuits while they talked and talked. She took after her mother, both inner and outer beauty, he would think as he gazed at the way your mum talked and even threw some praises at him here and there which didn’t fail to make him blush.

He really wanted to be a part of that life, he needed it... He had never been happier than he was at that time and to hear you say that he could be...

“I can? You... Promise?” he hopefully asked with tears in his eyes as you nodded uour head immediately, bringing him for yet another hug as you kissed his nape softly.

“Yes, I promise. You and I, forever and then even more... Remember?” he suddenly surged forward and took your face in his hands, inhaling your shampoo before diving for a passionate kiss as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist and pulled you to his lap. He poured all his love and gratitude into it, teeth clashing together as his lips and tongue desperately searched for yours.

You squealed but then moaned slightly at how hot you suddenly felt, how his movements and kiss heated you up more than normal. This kiss wasn’t normal, this side of Regulus wasn’t normal. He normally was someone who showed his love silently, who kissed you under shadows. You understood it well, he wasn’t a man who liked to show off with physcial affection and rather made his silent care work its magic.

But right now, this Regulus was fragile and sensitive, and his desperate kisses showed it too as he wanted you to... know it.

And Merlin, did you know it...

You held onto his neck and hair as your lips moved against his lips, leaning him back amd making him lay on his back as your body laid on his flush, chest to chest. The kiss was everything you both wanted, it has been so long since he deprivee both himself and you from each other but it wasn’t the time for it to lead to something more.

Not when he was so in pain, and need of comfort.

Besides, there was something else that needed to be talked about if you were doing what you were planning to do. Some people that needed to know, who would gladly move the entire universe for the boy below you

You shyly looked at him with a troubled look and Regulus’ brows knitted together as he worriedly took a hold of your face in his warm palms. “Is something wrong, my love? Was it too much?”

You looked at him in amazement, the fact that he still thought about your comfort when he was the one who needed it bedazzled you. But like you said, it was a trait you loved about him, perhaps the the best one.

You shook your head while taking a huge breath in. “No, love... It was quite... enjoyable.” You flushed under his teasing smirk, cursing at him for making you feel like a little kid being offered candy inside your mind as you cleared your throat and got off of him to sit next to where his body was now leaned back against the head of his bed. He was looking at you with confusion and slight worry, wondering ehat was on your mind as his hand wandered to your knee and rubbed it gently. To not give him any more scare any longer, you took in his glorious sight and continued.

“There are two more people who you could turn for help to.”

That was something you both talked about a lot, who he would turn to if shit went wrong and he had to act quick with his escape. You always knew that Regulus shouldn’t stay in that house even a moment longer, but he insisted that he was fine and assured you that everything was under his control with a swift kiss to your forehead.

So you kept your silence. You didn’t talk about it again until he would want to, but still... You told Sirius about the awful things they did to Regulus as he listened with clenched jaw and asked him if there was anything he could help with when the time comes.

Not if... When.

Because everyone knew that the inevitable was waiting right outside the door, and there was no stopping it.

And he of course, immediately offered himself which you declined for the time being since Regulus still believed that he hated his brother. You watched how broken he suddenly seemed after you said it but still nodded, knowing how he fucked everything up by not grabbing him with himself as he left, and gavr you their uncle’s name.

“He is a good man, also like us who didn’t believe in their ways... If there is anyone that could help, it’s him.”

Regulus tilted his head to you as if asking what you meant,  how the hell it was possible that there would be more people who could help him, and with a sigh, you looked at his eyes. “Your uncle Alphard and... Sirius.”

“No... My uncle? That’s fine. But Sirius... He hates me, love. He showed me how he felt about me! He wouldn’t want anything to do with me!” he got up from his bed hastily in panic and went to the open window as he leant over it with his hands in his hair, welcoming the fresh and cool air into his lungs.

You understood where he was coming from, knowing little pieces about how that night went between them and how he... did a lot for Sirius that night, something he didn’t know and probably would never. Some harsh words were apparently exchanged between them and even if they both knew that the other didn’t mean it...

It didn’t hurt any less.

Regulus thought that Sirius chose James over his own brother and hated him for being the way he is.

Sirius thought his little brother wad ashamed of the person he was, how he always caused trouble even as toddlers and made him get hurt even though he would mostly be the one taking the blame for him.

And you thought that the Black brothers were stupidest motherfuckers in the whole world.

Your arms fell helplessly on the bed as you watched Regulus break down, almost, again. You never felt this helpless in your life, and your gut told you that the reason of his agitation was partly because he hated himself for making you go through this, but...

You promised him one year ago that no matter what happens, you would be there for him.

Always.

“No, my love... Sirius loves you and cares about you. I know, because I listened to him as he cried in James’ house.” You walked up to him slowly, took his hand and stood before him as your hand crept up towards his sculpted face and rubbed his cheek softly before tiptoeing and kissing each side of his cheek as he smiled and exhaled slowly.

At that time, things were tense for them. So much so that it affected the school as well.  Sirius was still on edge because of his parents, worried sick for both Regulus and himself, thinking that they were planning something evil about himself. Regulus was hurt because his brother left him, for James, and even called him his “brother” which didn’t seem anything friendly to the poor, young boy who was drowning in his insecurities. It didn’t matter that he was already thinking about also running away, to you probably, but he wasn’t abandoning a brother for another one in his eyes and therefore blamed Sirius for being selfish.

But, as much as you understood both Regulus’ frustration and Sirius’ anger, you also knew that your friend and the older brother of your lover would drop everything to help his little brother out of that shithole.

“Just... Talk to him. Because I know you, you would regret not doing so if you don’t do it.” You sighed out tiredly, the later hours into the night catching up to you as you begged him softly, hoping that he would accept. A part of you feared that he wouldn’t, and tey to solve this by himself like always...

But you were his weakness, the reason he rebelled back and changed his future unknown to either one of you.

He would kill for you, die for you, live for you and turn the whole universe upside down if he had the power.

“Okay... Will you... Will you also be there? For me?” he softly smiled and kissed your nose, leaning his forehead to yours as he waited for your answer with a small smile. You smiled before kissing him deeply, slowly as your lips lingered on his and he closed his eyes slowly as if to savour this moment. You tugged him towards bed with a whine. “ Forever and always... Now, come back to bed.”

At that, a playful smirk found his face since you came in his room. “Now, I thought we could get to that lever later in our relationship, love.” You blushed heavily at how that one innocent sentence seemed so... cozy and something a married couple would say. You hid your face at the sudden flashes of you two being married, living your dreams in a cottage far way from everyone came before your eyes before punching his arm. It didn’t do anything of course, that boy was fit contrary to what people thought by his lanky figure, except making him laugh and kiss your hairline.

“You’re so adorable when you blush... Alright, let’s go and sleep.” You smiled as you watched him get under his duvet and groan in relief when he found a good position to sleep, blushing at how the expanse of his back flexed with each of his movements. You sighed in relief at seeing that he would finally fall into a comforting sleep and moved to quitely get out of his dorm when his monotone yet curious voice reached you, halting you in your steps.

“And, where do you think you are going?” he asked matter of factly as you stood there like a deer, with a hand on the doorknob as you slowly turned to look at him sitting down on his bed and laying halfway down with his torso out. “Uh... Going back to my dorm?”

“And who said you could?” he raised a brow at you questioningly as you laughed awkwardly, turning fully to him with your arms crossed in front of your chest as you looked down at him hesitated.

“I thought you would want to... be-“

“Trust me, love, being alone is the last thing I need right now... I need you...” he shyly said, his cockiness suddenly disappearing as he opened the duvet and offered you to come and sleep with him. His chuckle of disbelief made you scoff at him as you went up to him and got under it without making him repeat himself. He chuckled once more as he pulled you towards him, snuggling to you as your arms wrappes around him and soon you both fell asleep to the comforting embrace of your lover.

When he arrived in his room, he was terrified of going back to Grimmauld House and be forced to accept the Dark Lord’s way. He felt as if there was no other option for him, and he even mentally prepared himself to break up with you to save you from the tragedy. But as you slowly came back to his bed and sat down before inching closer to him and settling right next to him on the single bed, your bodies flushed together as you laid your hand on his chest, right where his heart was beating loudly, he felt hope blossom in his chest.

Even if he chuckled and tried to play the cool Regulus to hide how these all meant a lot to him

He fell asleep peacefully with you between his arms and this time, rather than those nightmares that decorated his dreams as he only saw his mother and the red hue of the cruciotus curse, he now dreamed of future.

A future where he was happy with you, in a country-side...

A future where you would be waiting for him with just as warm and soft embrace, continuing to lighten his days just as you are doing just by existing...

A future where he is safe and happy, with the family you two might create, a family that would be completely different than the one he has.

And, for the first time in 16 years, he had a good nights of smorning.yoy btoh laid under his duvet together, not caring about the teasing he would face the next morning.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

A/N: "Who asked for 1k of Pluto x reader hurt/comfort featuring parental issues?" you might ask. Well, the answer is: no one. But sometimes, a man must take it upon himself to create the very thing he wishes to see in the world. And I've been dealing with some nasty business lately, so you guys get some good ol' projection. But I'm fine now (for the most part)! I didn't really re-read this so I'd appreciate feedback to know whether or not this is shit. Anyway. gn!Reader is in an established relationship with Pluto in this one. TW for well... parental issues. And also financial issues because it wouldn't have been funny otherwise.

"You can always count on me"

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Masterlist

You looked at the desk in front of you, littered with tons and tons of envelopes, disorganized letters, bill sheets. There’s so many things you barely even knew where to start. It was all too much, overwhelming you with the pressure of all the problems that had recently exploded in your face and you were left having to deal with on your own.

It’s not fair, you thought, covering your face with your palms and letting out a sigh.

You couldn't even think straight anymore, and you hadn’t been able to have a full conversation in the whole day. You were easily irritated, and grumpy, and you spent most of your time looking into the void rather than actually doing anything.

You’re at your limit. You knew that. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You haven’t even opened all of the letters from your parents yet, let alone reply to a single one of them. You already knew what they were all saying: always the same speech, the same excuses, the same accusations. The same threats. The same half-assed apologies. Every. Single. Time.

Telling you the exact same things, each time more aggressively, in a logic that kept getting more and more distorted into something horrifying and hateful. You didn’t want to read those letters anymore, you wished they could all just disappear. You’d been thinking about contacting a social worker to help you with this, but you hadn’t found the time. Or the motivation. Even taking care of the modest apartment had been too big of a task recently.

Then there’s the bills, they weren’t going to pay themselves. You’d already picked from your savings to finish the month without starving, and your paycheck wouldn’t arrive before a few more days. You couldn’t do anything, except wait. And hope that what you’d gained would be enough to pay rent, and electricity, and feed yourself for the whole month to come.

It was all such bullshit. You thought you’d probably cry, if you weren’t so utterly exhausted.

Sinking your head between your arms, you closed your eyes to stop the world from swirling around, and tried to concentrate on your breathing. One of your friends had told you it was important. Breathing exercises. “To relax”, or whatever. You weren’t feeling like relaxing. There was way too much to do, and your future was way too uncertain for you to simply lay back and relax. Your helplessness was terrifying.

The fact that you had no control over your own life weighted you down, the obvious state of rapid deterioration in the relationship between you and your parents made you feel so broken. They had never been good to you or your sibling in the first place, but to know they might completely disappear from your life was a horrible idea. You weren’t ready for this.

You were so caught up in the spiral that you didn’t even deign lifting your head up to greet the new comer when you heard the front door open.

Pluto wasn’t exactly living here. You wouldn’t say that he wasn’t not living here either. It just wasn’t exactly official. He simply spent the majority of his time at your place – not that you were complaining. His presence was more than welcome. It was soothing to know someone was here with you, at times.

You heard his footsteps getting closer to where you were hunched on your chair, face hidden in your arms. You didn’t say a word. He stopped next to you, his eye glossing over the scattered pieces of paper all over the desk.

Extending an arm, he picked up one of the unopened letters. It was from the same persons as all of the others: your last name preceded by the mention “Mr. and Mrs.” made the identity of the sender quite clear. You knew if you looked up, you’d probably see your boyfriend squinting to read the address.

After a moment, the letter was replaced on the desk with a pained sigh, and his gaze fell on you.

You felt his fingers threading through your hair, his other hand coming to hold one of yours, thumb caressing your palm. He was so gentle with you it almost hurt. You felt so lost, and worn out, and lonely. Your family was tearing itself apart, and you couldn’t do anything else but watch in horror and scramble for a semblance of warmth. It was debilitating, this constant fog of negativity covering your thoughts.

“Sweetheart.” you heard him say, his tone gentle and loving. It was enough to shake you out of the spiral you had started to fall back into.

Pluto usually wasn’t one to use cheesy nicknames for you. He preferred your name, or a shortened version of it at best – which was the closest thing to a nickname he used most of the time, and a privilege in itself, given that he called even his closest friends by their full names. No, the corny, classic couples nicknames were only for the rare occasions where he was trying to reassure you, because he was genuinely worried for you.

You knew all of this of course, and that’s partly why you finally decided to lift your head up toward him.

Immediately, the hand that was in your hair went to cradle your face instead, and he took a step closer to you.

The expression in his eye was tender as he looked at you, detailing your features with the slightest trace of concern. He frowned. It pained him to see you in such a state, overwhelmed by all of your problems piling up on top of one another.

Slowly, he caressed your cheek with his thumb as he spoke barely above a whisper, serious and yet understanding. “Let’s sit on the couch alright? You’ll be more comfortable than hunched on your desk chair.”

He gave a squeeze to your hand with his, before gripping it firmer and pulling you up. You followed his direction half-heartedly, ending up almost flushed against him when you actually stood up.

Neither of you two acknowledge this fact, however. Quite frankly, you weren’t in the mood to acknowledge anything else than your seemingly imminent doom.

Looking down to the floor, you let Pluto guide you slowly to your own couch, before sitting down on it and pulling on both of your arms. Without a word you sat down, splayed across his laps, and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

You arms went around his waist to hold him tight against you, basking in his presence, and you felt one of his hands going in your hair while the other rested on the small of your back.

You were safe.

Cared for.

Protected.

For the first time in the whole day, it was like you weren’t alone anymore.

Pluto had never been a man of many words, and even now, he simply chose to hold you in silence. But it was enough to you. You knew he understood what you were going through, and you knew he’d always be with you to hold you through it. That was more than you could have asked for, and you cherished his comforting embrace more than anything else in this world.

You focused on his calm breathing, trying to keep the negative thoughts at bay, and relishing in the feeling of his fingers caressing your head. The two of you stayed this way for a while, in silence, until the dark-haired man took a deep breath, and confessed gently:

“I know you feel scared. And deceived. And… maybe lost, too.” He paused. You knew all of this was more familiar to him than you both wished for. “But I promise you, you won’t be on your own through it all. I’ll be here for you.”

You felt him move just enough to kiss the crown of your head, and he kept his face buried there as he added. “Trust me, I know how it feels,” his voice was soft, almost a whisper, and your name on his lips sounded like the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. “You can always count on me. No matter what, I’ll help you get through this.”

He pressed another kiss to your head, caressing up and down your back gently, and you realized how much your eyelids had started to get heavy. Closing your eyes, you left a trail of small kisses from down his neck, to his jaw, his cheek, and finally, you lifted your head from the crook of his neck to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

He kissed you back almost instantly, his arms squeezing you tighter as you went back to lay your head on his shoulder, and whispered a small “Thank you.”

The exhaustion was starting to get to you, and you couldn’t say much more for now, because you were unable to put into words how much this meant to you. But as you laid here against him and started to doze off into a dreamless slumber, you couldn’t be more grateful to have him in your life, as your partner.

[ddejavvu]

headcannon for Remus

I feel like remus would be the type of person to stop you (and his friends) from getting in trouble and then saying "the blame would be on me" as an excuse cuz he's trying to show he doesn't care much. We all know he's just subconsciously the responsible and logical one in the group so he'd try not to make a big deal outta it. (P.s. I do this a lot with my friends and sister, and Ik damn well that I won't get the blame)

Remus, for his own protection, acts aloof. You understand why, he can't let on too many weaknesses or else the people that aren't too fond of him would only have more to work with. But if you observe him carefully, you can see the tenderness escape his mouth through words disguised as insults.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Prongs." Remus drawls, thumbing through the pages of his history of magic textbook, in search of an answer, "You're losing your touch."

"It sounds fun!" You gush, "The freezing charm works fine, we've tested it before! And we skate on the lake all the time in the winter, what's the problem now?"

"The problem now is that you're trying to synthetically freeze the lake," He narrows his eyes at you over the spine of the book, "And you've only tested the freezing charm out on a glass of water. Do you understand how much more manpower you'll need to freeze the black lake? It means you'll need all hands on deck, and I'm not serving detention just because you wanted to ice skate in May."

"I don't buy it," Sirius decides, and Remus tucks his head slightly further towards the book, "I think you're worried about us, Moony."

"I am. I'm worried that you'll die after I choke you out for getting us caught," Remus muses, eyes stuck on a spot in the text rather than scanning the words, "And I'm even more worried about getting thrown in Azkaban for murder."

"That's bullshit!" James gawps, and you agree.

"I think you're worried it'll crack," You hum, "And that we'll fall in, and one of us might get scooped up by the squid, or dragged down by a grindylow. I think you think it's too dangerous."

Sirius and James look pleased at your evaluation, and Remus the opposite. You know the boy's heart is full of nothing but love and adoration (alright, a smidge of annoyance) for you all, but you're well used to the tough persona he puts on.

"You're delusional," Remus diagnoses, "I think you've actually gone mad."

"Don't worry Moony," James gushes, standing from his own bed and crossing to crawl onto Remus's, "We'll stay safe! We'll all cuddle up with you right here-" At his words, you and Sirius bolt for the bed as well, squeezing yourself around him on the mattress despite his protests, "-and we'll stay away from the dangerous lake."

"Promise," You croon, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek that feels suspiciously hot beneath your lips. Sirius does the same on his other side, and James feels left out, so he tips Remus's head back to kiss upside-down at his forehead.

"Alright, s'enough," Remus snaps, grumbling as you all settle in while he tries focusing on his studies, "Dangerous lake. Forget the squid, I'll drown the lot of you."

[burningcheese-merchant]

Its the cycle of History. Civilizations rise up. He watches them thrive. They eventually fall. Witnessing an expected event over and over with no Change can be desensitizating. After all, there's no reason in madness! (Timekeeper being in a similar boat of boredom only satiated by causing problems on purpose in roundabout ways for lols)

One might say that all he does with Destruction gives him a sense of control. Finally he can play HIS way. Speeding up things so he doesn't end up getting attached. Even better if he can be destroyed in turn some day. The combo of adrenaline and spices make for quite the addiction :3 If it turns out he sent spiced out cookies to Mystic then not even his supposed friend is safe from bull

It's rather interesting with what we've seen in Mystic Flour as the first Beast release. Girlie cared too much til she had no more f to give. BS destroys everything before he could prolly care. Can't wait to see Smilk spiraling into silly[tm] from knowing too much! Time to crave tragedy!!

I know, brother. Trust me. I've made a post addressing this before, and... Well. What I work on and study irl has an awful lot to do with history as a subject lol. I really need you wll to believe me when I say I understand the cycle of history. I know it so well, it hurts. It's part of why I'm such a cynic irl. I know exactly how awful history and people are. I really, truly do.

And you have a point, yeah. It could be a play for control. For things to be the way Burning Spice wants them to be, if only once. Sort of like what I suggested in that post: just cut out the middleman and end it all yourself. Be the "solution" to the "problem", before the problem even actually happens. It's a valid theory. Certainly an interesting one.

It's still bullshit at the end, though. Same with Mystic Flour's reasons for turning bad. Same as all the others' reasons probably will be.

Idk I think I'm just... tired at this point. History is a subject that is very near and dear to my heart for many reasons, and has been my whole life. In studying history, you learn a lot about people and life and the human condition. And part of that is hearing every single excuse for doing evil deeds possible. And in hearing Mystic Flour's backstory, and even Burning Spice's (how little we actually see), all I heard were all those same excuses all over again. And I got sick of hearing them a long time ago.

I'm not sure I necessarily see what Mystic Flour did as "caring too much until she had nothing left to give". I see it, I see what you're saying and it's valid, I just... it reads more as outright naivety to me. Girlie acts like she's never heard of greedy people before. "There were people who wished for selfish things and wanted my powers for themselves" uh yeah lol. That happens. There are people like that out there. You should know better than to think otherwise. You should also know better than to just go ahead and grant every single person's wishes. It inevitably leads to greed and entitlement. But regardless, that's no fucking reason to want to wipe out all of man/cookiekind. That's fucking stupid. Some shitty people took advantage of me, therefore every single person on earth should lose their individuality and die. Fuck you, you miserable bitch (I know it's more complicated than that, I'm just distilling it because MF legitimately does irritate me as a character lol)

"I'm bored" oh man. Oh jeez. That's the worst thing that could ever happen to someone, now isn't it. You're so bored, it seems, that you can't even be bothered to explain why or how. Are you tired of building something up and caring about it, only for it to be destroyed, over and over again? Did you lose someone important to you while enforcing that cycle? Are you overwhelmed by the burden of the responsibility you were given without choice, and thus slowly driven to madness? All of the above? None? It doesn't matter because those are stupid, too. And they're rendered stupid because you use them as an excuse to hurt people that have nothing to do with anything. "I destroy things to regain a semblance of control over my life and to prevent attachment" cool motive, still murder. If you (and MF, too) are that bothered by the way things are then just fucking kill yourself. Why not? End your oh so terrible suffering instead of inflicting it on everyone else. But they won't, and neither did the other Beasts, because they are all fundamentally dumb, selfish, hypocritical cowards.

Or, how about this: ABDICATE. You don't want the power and responsibility? Give it to somebody else. You don't want to help uphold balance? Fine, that's fair. LET SOMEONE ELSE DO IT, THEN. Have the humility and integrity to admit you're not cut out for the job instead of doing this heinous shit. The Ancients worked for the power and accepted the responsibility that came with it. That's why they're better than you and always will be. They're not bummed out by immortality or the cycle of history or whatever else you want to cry about. They live their lives and do right by others and get the job done. It's obvious you can't, so just man up and step down. Or don't. Hoard the power and neglect the responsibility and be a blight on society instead of coming to terms with your own shortcomings. Because that's easier, isn't it? Being evil is the easy way out. That's why so many people are. Because they're too weak to try anything else.

That's all the Beasts were and continue to me, to me. Weak. They are right to be unhappy with whatever unfortunate circumstances befell them. They are right to resent their creators and the burden they bestowed upon them. But they are wrong to punish everyone else for it. It's selfishness. Weak moral and spiritual fiber. Congratulations, Mystic Flour, you've proven that your apathy is fake by trying so hard to get the Soul Jam back and wanting to steamroll everyone else's rights, thoughts and feelings with your own. Congratulations, Burning Spice, you're still perpetuating the cycle of history by being the exact same bloodthirsty tyrant as every single one before and after you. I've seen these clowns before, history is full of them. And they all start grating on you after a while lol.

Idk if any of this made sense. I think I'm just irritated with the Beasts (and with villains in general, maybe, to a degree) and your ask gave me an excuse to ramble semi-coherently about it lol. I nevertheless appreciate you telling me your thoughts. You have good and interesting ones. I wish you a wonderful New Year and a big basket full of delicious bonbons

[papervenom]

✩ chapter seven: cedric diggory ✩

summary: you’re a third-year transfer from the states with magic that turns heads— and veela blood that makes it impossible not to be noticed. you didn’t ask to get caught up in their world, but now you’re in it, and nothing is going to play out the way it was supposed to. a slow-burn, character-driven take on prisoner of azkaban, told through your perspective.

word count: 4.8k

INCEPTION MASTERLIST⋆˙⟡

September 9th, 1993

I grew comfortable with my day to day routine at Hogwarts. 

The classes were relatively simple and I enjoyed sharing them with my friends. 

They made the long hours I spent doing homework go by so much quicker— I don't know if I could've been able to have done it without them.

Draco had been missing from every class that we shared with the Slytherins for the past week. 

We were halfway through Double Potions when he strutted in the classroom, his arm covered in several bandages and bound to a sling. He carried himself as if he was a heroic survivor of some dreadful battle. 

"Does it hurt terribly, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson cooed as he approached— reaching out to caress his 'injured' arm. 

"It comes and it goes. Still... I consider myself lucky. According to Madame Pomfrey, a minute or two later, I could've lost my arm." 

My mouth dropped at the bullshit he was spewing, and I instinctively turned to look at Ron and Harry who were both scowling at him. 

"Settle down, Malfoy." Professor Snape drawled idly. 

Snape's patience for anyone from Gryffindor always ran thin, especially Harry— but I've noticed he was usually lenient towards Draco. 

Probably because Smape was head of Slytherin House, but the preference was unmistakable.

We were working on the Shrinking Solution potion. I had already finished my batch, since I've made it before for the task that Snape gave me during my testing, so I was just writing some notes down from the textbook.

I eyed Draco suspiciously as he gathered his materials with his free hand and headed straight towards the table where I was sitting with Ron and Harry.

He placed his cauldron next to my freshly prepared one and raised his hand smugly.

"Sir, I'll need help cutting the daisy root, because of my arm—" 

"(Y/L/N), since you clearly believe that you've finished your potion, cut Malfoy's roots for him." Snape instructed without looking up from his desk.

I sighed in defeat and stared at Draco blankly. 

"There's nothing wrong with your arm, Malfoy."

He smirked and leaned down towards me, resting his 'injured' arm on the table subconsciously, making me scoff at his lack of awareness.

"You heard Professor Snape, (Y/N), cut up these roots." He mumbled so it was just audible to me. 

I glowered, squinting my eyes at him, and grabbed the knife swiftly. I took Draco's roots and began to chop them sloppily, trying to get the embarrassment over with.

"Professor..." Draco called out slowly, his voice almost sing-songy. He was enjoying this. "(Y/N)'s mutilating my roots."

Snape approached the table and I set the knife down, shamelessly sliding the cut-up daisy root under Snape's hooked nose for him to inspect. 

"My, my. This is poor work from someone who finished their potion early. I'm sure you can do better than that, (Y/L/N). Get another root, and start again."

"But, sir—"

"I hope you don't expect special treatment solely because you're an American, or because you got lucky with your potions during your testing. I see that hanging around Potter has given you the notion that you hold some superiori—"

"Excuse me, Professor, but I do not expect special treatment at all. Thank you." My interruption caused many of the other students to gasp quietly. Ron was so petrified, his eyes were as big as plates. Snape, in turn, was flaring his nostrils at me in anger.

I was bracing myself for points to be deducted from Gryffindor, or even detention, but to my shock, Snape strode away to grab a fresh daisy root, came back to our table, and slammed it down in front of me. 

"Cut this. Now. And Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig since you find this so amusing." He demanded in a dangerous tone. 

Harry's smile didn't falter, finding the way I stood up to Snape very funny. 

We worked on Malfoy's ingredients silently, throwing them back at him hastily once we were done. Draco was smirking more broadly than ever. 

"Seen your pal Hagrid, lately?" Malfoy asked us in quiet contempt.

We all ignored him, not even bothering to look at his direction.

"I'm afraid he won't be teaching here much longer. Father's not very happy with my injury—"

"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury." I interjected, my voice coming out sweet, juxtaposing with the threat. I gave him a mock smile which made him raise his eyebrows and scoff. 

"The cheek on this one! Snapping at Professors and threatening injured students? How very unusual behavior from a Gryffindor. Weasley cut up my caterpillars for me." He jutted his chin at his ingredients without even glancing at Ron. His eyes were locked with mine.

Ron started reaching towards the caterpillars, his cheeks turning rosy in humiliation, but I placed my hand over his and shook my head. I then pulled the caterpillars towards me and started cutting them myself.

"There you go, even slices..." Draco murmured, getting  too close to inspect my work so I shoved him away from me with my arm. 

"Careful, there, (Y/L/N). My father's complained to the school governor and the Ministry of Magic on that pathetic excuse of a teacher. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. You wouldn't want him to make a complaint about you." 

I clasped my hand over my mouth and gasped, faking my concern, making Ron and Harry laugh brightly.

Draco merely rolled his eyes. Pompous bitch. 

Class continued and a few tables away, Neville was shaking and on the verge of tears because Snape was hurling insults at him for messing up his potion. Hermione tried to help him, but then Snape lashed out at her for being a show-off.

We were packing up our materials when Seamus Finnigan called to Harry from two tables away to ask him if he had read the Daily Prophet, the Wizarding newspaper. 

Apparently, Sirius Black had been sighted by a Muggle not too far away from Hogwarts. A flash of worry crossed Harry’s face but he quickly recomposed himself when he saw Malfoy paying too much attention to the conversation for our liking.

"What is it, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?" I asked, but Draco's eyes were fixed on Harry with a malevolent glint in them.

"Thinking you'll catch Black single-handed, Potter?" 

"Yeah, that's right." Harry's tone was bored, being used to Malfoy's harassment. He was packing up his things as he tried to ignore him again.

"Of course, if it was me..." Draco's voice dropped into a whisper. "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying at school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" It was Ron's turn to defend Harry. His tone came out rough as he glared at the Slytherin. 

"Don't you know, Potter?" Draco let out a laugh of disbelief. He finally got Harry's attention with this.

"Know what?" 

"You know what? Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck. Better off leaving it to the Dementors, yeah? But if it was me, I'd want revenge... I'd hunt him myself..." Draco's voice trailed off as his eyes flickered between Harry, Ron, and me.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harry growled angrily but Draco decided now was the time to stop talking. He reached towards the table and pulled my notebook to him, opening it, and ran a slender finger down my schedule where it landed on my next class for the day.

I snatched my book back but he was already smirking, his little gang of Slytherins taking their positions behind him.

"See you, next class." He winked at me and stalked out of the classroom.

"What did Malfoy mean?" Harry muttered to us. "Why would I want revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to me— yet."

"He's making it up," said Ron lividly. "He's trying to make you do something stupid..."

Though Malfoy was, as always, trying to rile Harry up— I couldn't help but notice there was some hint of truth to what he was saying. 

I didn't comment on it as we headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

༻✦༺

Professor Lupin started Defense Against The Dark Arts with a great lesson when he told us to put away our books and take our wands out for the class. He then asked Neville to help assist him with the demonstration of our topic, gaining even more respect from us Gryffindors by giving Neville the benefit of the doubt.

Once again, we were with the Slytherins, and they found Professor Lupin's choice of making Neville his assistant hysterical. 

Draco was in the back of the classroom, watching.

"Look at the state of his robes," he spoke in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?" Lupin asked the class.

My hand shot up to answer the Professor's question at the same time Hermione's did. The boys shared an uneasy look at Hermione's competitiveness.

I knew the answer because it was in the same book where I learned what Veela were. 

"Yes, (Y/N)?" 

"It's a shape-shifter. It can take the shape of whatever frightens us the most." 

"Couldn't have put it better myself!" Lupin answered and turned towards a wardrobe that was wobbling and thumping as if something were trying to escape from inside. 

Hermione frowned at me after Lupin's compliment. 

I felt that Hermione was always trying to one-up me so in spite of friendly competition, I stuck my tongue out at her and grinned.

We learned that the Boggart had no true shape until it knows who it will directly encounter. Then it shifts to their fears. I was curious as to what my fear would be, not being so sure I had one.

We chanted the word that we would say to a Boggart once it shifted to our greatest fear ( Riddikulus! ), and got in a line.

"This class is 'riddikulus'" I heard Malfoy mutter to one of his meat-head friends a few spots in front of me.

"...You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville. First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?" 

Neville was once again shaking and his face was beet red as he mumbled something inaudible.

"I didn't quite catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully. Neville looked around wildly, as though begging for someone to help him, then whispered "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed now.  Lupin instructed Neville to picture Snape wearing Grandma Longbottom's clothing, then the most alarming thing happened. The boggart that stepped out of the wardrobe looked so much like Professor Snape, I was convinced it actually was him the whole time. 

Neville cast the Riddikulus spell, and the boggart stumbled, and soon Snape was wearing an atrocious green dress, fox-fur scarf, and carrying a red handbag. 

The line started moving forward. The boggart was shifting from being a mummy to a rattlesnake, to a severed hand. 

Once we started getting closer to the wardrobe, Draco slipped from his spot and moved behind me.

"Scared of a boggart?" I taunted him coolly, still facing forward. 

"Just don't feel like participating in this foolish class, that's all," He muttered back just as nonchalantly— leaning down so I could hear him. 

I shook my head, and a smile played on my lips at our casual exchange but Ron quickly caught my attention. 

He seemed very nervous about this whole Boggart ordeal. 

I knew him well enough by now to know that there would be a humongous spider in the room at any second. 

And surely enough, with a noise like a whip, the giant, hairy spider appeared and was staring right down at Ron with eight, shiny black eyes. 

Students screamed as it started getting closer, clicking its pincers threateningly. 

"Ron...Ron!" I reached out to shake him because he just stood there frozen. 

"R-right. Riddikulus!" And just like that, the spider was now wearing roller skates in each of its bushy legs. 

It stumbled and fell, making the class laugh. 

Harry then took his place in front of the boggart. 

His spirits seemed high, considering everyone but the Slytherins were having fun, but he wasn't prepared for what the boggart would become.

In front of our eyes, the clumsy spider started morphing into something dark, tall, and cloaked. 

The coldness and the feeling of dread quickly filler the air as a Dementor towered over Harry. 

Ron, Hermione, and I had to quickly pull Harry back when we noticed that he started swaying on the spot—growing faint.

Fortunately, Professor Lupin jumped in front of the Dementor and managed to vanish it in time. We got a glimpse of his boggart, which resembled some sort of crystal ball.

Most of the students looked uneasy. 

Even some of the Slytherins were rubbing their arms to bring back the warmth to their bodies. 

It didn't take long for Malfoy and his cronies to process what happened and burst out laughing. 

"Right. Sorry about that. Settle down, settle down... Well done, everyone... That is enough for today. That's the end of your lesson, collect your books from the back..." 

Harry straightened up. He was pale and had pink blotches on his cheek as we guided him out of the classroom, trying to ignore Draco's taunts. 

༻✦༺

The weeks started passing by quickly. 

Lupin kept fascinating us during DATDA; Trewlaney still treated Harry like he had seconds to live, and Snape always found a way to embarrass a Gryffindor in front of the whole class. 

His favorite victim was Neville. 

Hagrid calmed down with his lessons and we were currently studying the flobberworm— the most boring creature in existence. 

Soon, it was October. I got to see less of Harry since he started Quidditch practices and was gone three evenings a week. 

I spent most of my time with Ron and Hermione. Though, it was easier talking to Ron since Hermione always had her nose stuck in a book and often seemed to have homework that was due the next day.

I started accompanying Hermione to the library during the evenings. 

Sometimes Ron would join, other times he wouldn't. 

We would usually finish our homework long before Hermione was be done with hers— and Ron would just get bored out of his mind so some days he didn't bother coming at all. 

But I didn't mind. 

I took advantage of the free-time to browse the books in the library. 

Also, I found something to look forward to whenever I was there. 

Or rather, someone. 

Every time we visited the library, I always saw the same boy there. 

He was the prettiest boy I've ever seen. 

He was tall, brunette, and he seemed older than I was.

Maybe Fred and George's age. 

I didn't know much about him other than that he was in Hufflepuff and in his House's Quidditch team. I figured this out because sometimes he would come in wearing his uniform with a bunch of his teammates and he would get furiously shushed at by the school librarian, Madam Pince.

He was very popular— always had a few friends with him who would speak to him admirably. 

But he still seemed a bit reserved as well. 

The quiet type. 

He was just so incredibly handsome and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. 

In fact, I've jumped out of my skin a couple of times before because I'd find him staring right back at me.

He was kind enough to look away every time, and not immediately tell his friends about the idiot girl who doesn't stop goggling at him— but I swear I would catch him suppressing a smile after the fact.

It's not like I thought I'd have a chance with him, or that he would talk to me ever, but I liked the distraction of staring at a good-looking boy when I wasn't studying or being berated by Hermione to quiz her. 

Sue me.

It was the evening before Halloween, and Hermione and I were entering the library again. 

My eyes immediately went to the corner where the pretty boy and his friends would usually sit, and my heart sank a bit in my chest when I saw that the area was empty.

Hermione and I took our usual seats at the long tables by the windowed area and got to work. 

I had completed my Star chart for our Astronomy class when I looked over at Hermione to find her forehead furrowed as she scribbled frantically. Her bushy hair was even bushier than ever and she was standing, instead of sitting down, as she worked.

"I'm finished, 'Mione. I'm gonna look around, okay?" I spoke to her softly, trying not to distract her.

She didn't even look up at me as she nodded and kept writing so harshly with her quill that I was sure the parchment would rip. 

I shrugged out of my robes, leaving me in my white-buttoned dress shirt, black skirt, black knee socks, and striped Gryffindor tie— which hung loosely around my neck.

The first thing I usually did as I entered the library was to make myself comfortable since I knew I would be spending a few hours there. 

Madam Pince would always glare at me— but she never said anything. Just pursed her lips into a thin line and went back to her librarian work.

I ran my fingers down the spines of the books as I walked down the rows of shelves aimlessly. 

I started getting annoyed again when I noticed I started gaining unwarranted attention. 

Girls would narrow their eyes at me bitterly and boys would crane their necks in their seats to get a good look at me. 

I was about to head back to my seat and hide under the table until Hermione finished her coursework when I got to a row where I recognized two Hufflepuff boys who I knew were friends with the cute guy I always saw.

I simply glanced at them as I walked by, not planning on speak to them but they stopped talking to each other the moment they saw me and walked up to me, which was unexpected.

"Hey, you're the new girl, right? I'm Nick. This is Robert." The tallest of the two introduced himself. He was a bit pimply and had stringy, blonde hair but a kind face. Robert was lankier than Nick and had black, spiked hair that matched his narrow, dark eyes. I shook both of their hands awkwardly.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)... 'New girl', huh? So people have been talking about me."

Both boys gave me a toothy grin. They seemed nice but still had the same stupid energy that some of the boys had whenever they got around me. I still wondered if McGonagall was right about this whole Veela situation. 

"Oh, yeah. Everyone knows about you! You're the transfer student from America—"

"And you're barking gorgeous." Robert interrupted Nick. He seemed to realize what he said and started guffawing but wasn't at all embarrassed. 

I, on the other hand, was. 

I really wanted to get out of there.

"Oh, I don't know about that..." I blushed, trying to find a way to get away but the conversation was soon intervened by another Hufflepuff who was approaching the boys.

"Why aren't you two out on the field yet?" 

My eyes widened as the pretty boy I've been staring at for the past weeks approached us and stood by my side. He towered over his friends and stared at them expectantly— waiting for an answer.

"Oh hey, Cedric... Isn't Gryffindor out there?" Nick seemed disappointed that his friend interrupted the conversation with me. But at the moment I was grateful for Nick, because I now knew the mystery boy's name was Cedric. 

"They're finishing up. I was just on my way out there. Go on, I'll catch up to you guys." 

The pair mumbled their goodbyes to me, and headed towards the exit. 

I didn't exactly know Cedric to linger any longer, so I smiled at him politely and began walking away.

"Were they bothering you?" Cedric's eyebrows were knit together in concern.

"Um, not really," I chimed and shook my head. 

My voice came out distracted, which I was— feeling so overwhelmed with having him standing so close to me. 

He looked so good in the knit grey sweater he was wearing. 

His yellow, Hufflepuff tie was tucked in neatly and I suddenly realized how sloppy I looked next to him, with my loose tie and a crinkled, dress shirt.

"Alright... It's just— you looked uncomfortable. So I just had to make sure. They're good guys, Nick and Robert. But they can also be... indiscreet, at times." 

Cedric chose his words carefully. 

I could tell he didn't want to bad-mouth his friends. 

I found it sweet that he decided to check up on me. 

He didn't even know me.

"They just put me in the spot, that's all," I let out an airy laugh, trying to get rid of the nerves running through me, and stuck out my hand towards him, praying it wasn't sweaty or shaking when he touched it.

"I'm (Y/N), nice to meet you." I smiled sweetly, and when he returned the smile and shook my hand with his bigger one, my heart skipped a beat.

"Lovely to meet you, (Y/N). I'm Cedric. I've seen you here quite a bit." 

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as he said that. 

He did catch me staring at him a few times before, I forgot that detail until this moment. 

I subconsciously began walking towards the table where Hermione was working, attempting to escape my embarrassment yet Cedric followed,  walking closely beside me.

"Uh, yeah, I like to do my coursework with my friend here. It's quiet. She's taking more courses than I am, I think, so I'm usually finished earlier and just walk around for something to do," I shrugged and looked down at my feet, suddenly not having the courage to meet his grey eyes anymore.

"Yeah, that's why I like it here too. I find I can finish my work quicker since it's silent. Next time you're done early, you should find me. I'm usually always around when you are, anyways. We can talk some more."

I looked up at him, his height surprising me once more as he stood by my side. I nodded stupidly as I swooned over the sly smile he was giving.

"Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks." 

We grinned at each other for a beat and I then noticed we were standing right in front of Hermione, who was still in the same state I left her. 

I was about to say my goodbyes before a voice behind him called his name.

"Cedric? You promised me I could watch you practice." 

He turned around in search for who was talking to him and I peered over his shoulder slightly, trying not to blatantly look since the person was being blocked from my view by Cedric.

It was an Asian girl who was calling for him. 

She seemed to be my age, maybe even Cedric's, and was extremely gorgeous and looked exceptionally pretty in the blue jacket she was wearing over her robes. 

I assumed she was a girlfriend or someone Cedric was seeing. 

It's not like I excepted him to be single, with his looks, but my heart still sank a few inches.

"I'll see you later, then?" He turned back to me with a hopeful expression which caught me off guard.

"Yeah! See you later. Have a good practice." 

He kept smiling at me as he walked away. He then approached the pretty girl and they walked off together. 

I watched after them, smiling at her politely when she turned around to look at me— and to my shock, she gave me a nasty look. 

I gasped and I heard a gasp behind me. 

I turned around and noticed Hermione was watching the whole thing.

"Did you see that?" I whispered loudly at Hermione as I rushed to the table and sat down in front of her.

Hermione stifled a giggle as she started packing her things away in her bag.

"Can't exactly blame her, (Y/N). You didn't tell me you knew Cedric Diggory." 

I blushed, cupping my flushed face in my hands in attempt to hide it from Hermione, but she noticed anyways and snickered.

"I just properly met him today! His two friends made me a bit uncomfortable, and he noticed and intervened." I cooed dreamily, recalling the whole situation. 

Hermione's face was suddenly stern.

"(Y/N), you have to tell Professor McGonagall if you're being harassed because of your Veela bloodline. You can't help it, and frankly, they can't either. She offered to help you!" 

"It's fine." I shrugged, speaking nonchalantly. "So far I've been able to handle it."

"So far, you have—but it can get really ugly, (Y/N)! Men have done really, really stupid things to get the attention of a Veela! And it could get more intense for you as you grow older and mayb—"

"Alright, alright. If it gets out of hand, I'll talk to Professor McGonagall." I huffed, dismissing Hermione. "Now, please. Tell me more about Cedric Diggory." 

She told me all she knew about him as we headed back to our Common Room. 

I never took Hermione Granger for a gossip, assuming that she never had the time to find out much with all the schoolwork she had, so the amount of information that she knew surprised me. 

Apparently, Cedric was a very popular boy in the school. 

He was fawned over by many because he was Seeker for his Quidditch team (which I remembered was the same position as Harry), he was a Prefect—which gave him some special privileges over the other students, and he was a good student with great grades. I noticed that Hermione started gushing a bit as she spoke, so I assumed that the charm that Cedric had over me was one he held over many girls.

"What did he say to you?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"He basically said he's seen me around the library before and that he likes to study there too, since it's quiet." I recounted our conversation as we approached the hall where the portrait of the Fat Lady hung.

"Then he asked that the next time I finished my schoolwork early, I come find him so we can talk some more," I couldn't conceal the grin that formed on my face as I said that.

"What do you think he meant by that!?" Hermione's eyes were wide, looking at me in amazement.

"I don't know! I think he was just being friendly! Fortuna Major." I said the password when we reached the portrait and it swung open. We stepped inside.

"Gods. Cho and Cedric are like the perfect couple, everyone's been saying it! They're not dating yet, but she definitely likes him. And that look she gave you!" 

Hermione and I had our arms locked as we giggled into the Common Room. 

I doubted Cedric had any romantic interest in me, but it was still nice to fantasize about it.

"Why so chummy, ladies?" Fred called from the couch in front of the blazing fireplace. 

Everyone around him were buzzing excitedly in conversation with each other.

"We has a very successful evening of studying, what's going on here?" I tossed my bag on the floor near the couch and sat down in between Fred and George.

Ron and Harry were sitting on the floor playing Exploding Snap. 

"First Hogsmeade weekend starting tomorrow! Also the Halloween feast." Ron informed, his eyes brightening as he looked at me. 

He didn't even notice that the card deck in front of him exploded.

"Good timing, too. I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets." Fred spoke from my right. 

I looked at him curiously, not knowing what Stink Pellets were, causing him to shove his hand in his pockets and start digging around for one.

"No, no, it's fine, I bet they're great." I laughed, leaning away from him as I felt threatened simply by the name. I didn't want to be near anything stinky at the moment.

I heard Harry sigh, and I remembered he wasn't allowed to visit Hogsmeade since his Muggle family didn't sign his form.

I slid down from the couch and crawled to sit next to him on the floor.

"Hey. I have to visit McGonagall tomorrow morning. I'm supposed to meet with her at the end of every month. Maybe if you come with me and ask, she'll let you go to Hogsmeade? I was going to ask the same thing, we can't be the only Third Years that are left behind."

"(Y/N)! Harry's supposed to stay in school until Black's been caught! They just spotted him nearb—" Hermione started scolding me but Harry quickly interrupted her.

"Yeah, I think I will go with you. Thanks (Y/N)."

Hermione frowned at us, making Harry and I look at each other and grin.

✩ next chapter: halloween ✩

[teddyissi]

Cramp Up, Boys

(this is a slight joke hazbin fic, but not.)

- also warning, this is hazbin hotel so of course its gonna have swearing, suggestive/adult content/adult jokes lol. not recommended for minors to read. one more thing, CW for talk about periods/a bit of misogyny on Valentino and Vox's part. not that i think they are canonically but i made them like that for this fic and plus i think if not adam, they're the men from this show i think would be more likely to be like that lmao -

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day, in the meeting room of V Tower…

Vox - "Laughing and talking with Valentino. And- get this! This bitch said that she should get a day off! Because of her period. Can you fuckin' believe that? Ahhh… brings tears to my eyes. Heh…"

Valentino - "Ahaha, oh Voxy! You're sooo devious.~ I like it."

Vox - "I mean hey, I'm not gonna risk fucking… losing money, just because she's dealing with some insignificant little 'cramps'. I've had so many god damn instances like this, that I just feel like they're making up this bullshit at this point."

Valentino - "I think you're right.~ After all, if it did exist, it couldn't be more painful than an erection in tight pants."

Velvette, having been previously scrolling mindlessly on her phone, had her attention caught by the offensive turn in their conversation, slowly turning her head up to the two demons.

Velvette - "Excuse me… what the fuck??"

Valentino and Vox, confused and slightly startled by Velvette suddenly speaking up, said "what?" in sync.

Velvette - "She slammed her phone down on the long meeting table, sitting up in her seat. Did I really hear what I just heard from you two fuckheads?"

Vox - "Jeez, Velvette. The hell is your problem?"

Velvette - "She slowly stood up, stomping over to Vox and slamming her hands down on the table in front of him. So it doesn't bloody exist, hmm?? And how come there's multiple ladies here complaining to you about them, Vox? And why the fuck do you think the period cramp simulator exists??"

Valentino - "Soft laughter. Cramp simulator? That sounds absolutely ridiculous. Why would anyone desire that?"

Velvette - "She walked around the table and stood between the boys that still sat in their seats, gesturing to both of them as she spoke. So you dumbass men can experience exactly what it's like for us 'bitches'."

Vox - "Not buyin' it, Vel. He said, tapping casually on his phone."

Velvette - "Oh, okay. Alright, fine. You want me to prove it? Because I bloody fucking will. I have a period cramps simulator right in my room. I'll bring it right back in here."

Valentino - "Come on now, Velvette. I think you're overreacting."

Vox - "Yeah. I mean, is this really necessary, my dear? He chuckled, almost nervously."

Velvette - "She smirked, leaning forward towards Vox as she folded her arms. What? You turnin' into a bunch of pussies now?"

Vox - "He huffed, his hands clenching into fists. Fucking- okay you know what?? Fine! Fucking fine. Let's just get this shit over with, yeah Val?"

Valentino - "He sighed without looking up from one of his guns, as he was sprinkling some glitter on it. Alright then."

Velvette wasted no time, and she rushed to her office/room, coming back quickly with the simulators (she has more than 1 of course).

When she put them on the boys, she grinned with a wicked anticipation.

By the time the simulators were set to the highest level, Valentino was curled up on the floor, covered in his own tears and snot, while Vox (sitting on the floor but still technically sitting at the table. He fell out of his chair) was tightly hugging his lower stomach, his free hand grabbing at nothing on the table, creating rough claw marks as he desperately tried to hold in the tears that began to cloud his vision.

Meanwhile, while all this was happening, Velvette was back sitting in her seat, scrolling on her phone with a pleased smile on her face.

She revelled in the sounds of their pain.

Maybe women do go through this after all.

THE END 😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(this is a silly idea i got just earlier since my period started today and i was going through some REALLY painful cramps and this idea came to me when i was watching videos of men trying the period cramps simulator thing while trying to make myself feel a bit better about the pain i was experiencing. and also to clarify i fucking LOVE Vox and simp so hard for him, buuut i thought the idea of him and Val shitting on women complaining about cramp pains and then being put in the cramps sim would be insanely funny. i also kinda wrote this to make other gals or pals with uteruses, hopefully also feel better if they're going through this BS as well lol. Anyway I'll stop yapping, hope you guys enjoyed this! And you're welcome to make requests for other hazbin (or tadc, thats my other obsession rn!) stuff I should write, even tho I don't really write fanfiction much but I can still try! I wanna get into writing more fanfic anyways haha.)

[delusionalvenusian]

The Long Con, Pt. 1

Pairing: Max Burnett x Fem!Reader (no use of y/n, reader eventually has a nickname)

Summary: Max, having parted ways with Madeline, still can't let go of his lust for a lavish life. He now finds himself at upscale hotel bars scouting out wealthy widows and divorcees to bed and steal from to keep afloat while he cooks up his first big solo con. What seems like a business-as-usual one night stand could just end up being his perfect long con. Or hers.

Warnings: 18+ only, smuuuuuuuuuut (pretty much right off the bat, but there is a plot in there somewhere), oral, unprotected p in v, swearing, drinking, kissing, dubcon (sorta), kinda subby Max, Max and reader are both little assholes

Word count: ~4k

a/n: Hellooooooo! I don't really know what the market is for this kind of thing since I've been out of the fanfic writing world for over a decade now, but I've had this little story brewing in my head since watching Sharper when it was first released and finally started putting it into words and feeling courageous enough to publish it somewhere on the off chance someone will enjoy it. This will be a few parts, but I'm not exactly sure how many at this point. Anyway, I so hope you enjoy this if you stumble upon it and give it a shot. :)

___________________________

Max swirled the whiskey in his glass as he leaned coolly against the bar, scanning the dim Manhattan establishment for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to locate his next mark.

With what he’d heard about the clientele here, he had expected the evening to go much smoother—get in, find a desperate 50-something to leave with, pocket some cash and blank checks after fucking her to sleep, repeat—but, after an hour or so of misses, he was ready to call it a night. Weekday evenings were usually perfect for this little game he’d adopted to pass the time while he figured out his next big solo move since breaking from Madeline. The too-young girls looking for rich old men weren’t out until the weekend, and the mature divorcees were out scouting for their next fling, more than happy to accept his attention. But tonight was a quiet one, and he was growing more frustrated with each dud he spotted. Downing the rest of the amber liquid, he slammed the glass down on the bar and moved to head for the door.

“Easy there!” He heard from behind. He turned quickly to study the source of the honeyed voice. “Excuse me,” she asked, effortlessly getting the bartender’s attention as soon as she stepped up to the bar.  “Could I get a vodka tonic, extra lime, and keep them coming, please? Actually, go ahead and make that a double.” She smiled softly at the bartender’s confirming nod and spun to face the crowd of patrons as she waited for her drink. Her gaze shifted lazily around the room, meeting Max’s eyes as he sized her up. “See something you like?”

She was perfect. Younger than his usual target, but old enough to have the resources he needed. Her glossy blown out hair and subtle designer label ensemble screamed trust fund baby. Her drink order suggested she was ready to loosen up for the evening, and she was at least regular enough here that she didn’t have to give a card for a tab. No ring on her finger. Cool demeanor. And she was much easier on the eyes than the women he had suffered the last few months to get by. Perfect.

“Absolutely,” he replied, pulling his most seductive smirk.

She chuckled amusedly, cocking her brow. “Forward.”

Max sidled back up to the bar to settle next to his prey, gesturing to the bartender for another. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“Not wasting any time, are we?” She took a sip of her cocktail as soon as it reached her hand. “No introductions, just right down to business. I respect that.”

“I’m—”

“No, unh-unh,” she interrupted with a fluid wave of her hand, “I don’t care. We’ve both got the same motive, so let’s just skip the unnecessary bullshit. Trust me, it’s so much more fun with no names.”

Max could hear the jackpot jingle ring in his brain as he registered her words. Beyond perfect. He wouldn’t even have to bother with creating an identity for the night or convincing her to take him home. Admittedly, it did suck some of the fun out of his scheme, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He clinked his glass against hers in enthusiastic agreement.

“Great. I’ve got this one, so next one’s on you.” She downed a few gulps of her drink and gave him a slow once over. “Not bad. I usually only catch old pervs here.”

Max snickered. “Glad to hear I don’t look like a perv.”

“You don’t look like an old perv,” she corrected.

“So then tell me what I look like,” Max prompted as he softly ran his knuckles up her bicep from elbow to shoulder, twisting her hair around his finger.

She studied his features for another moment through narrowed eyes before responding. “Attractive. New money. Arrogant, for sure. Devious— you’ve got that glint in your eye, I see it. And here tonight, so definitely a perv.”

“You’re here tonight, what does that make you?”

She smiled up at him teasingly. “You’ll just have to come back to my room and find out, I guess.”

_______________

The walk from the bar, through the hotel lobby, and to the elevator was a short one, and Max couldn’t have been more thankful. The flowing liquor and flirtatious banter coupled with the anticipation of his scheme playing out successfully had his excitement at peak. The attraction certainly didn’t hurt either. It had been months since he found himself entangled with someone he felt legitimate physical desire for—not that that mattered to him in the end so long as he left with his pockets satisfactorily lined, but it was a welcome change.

She kept her hands to herself as she led Max to the elevators, unable to leave behind the strict societal manners she was raised on and give in to her temptation to grab him and take him in the nearest secluded corner. It had been months since she’d had a good lay, and Max’s assertive air had her convinced that he’d be the one to break that depressing trend. Impatient and aroused as ever, she fought not to drum her fingers or tap her foot waiting for the elevator to finish its slow descent, not wanting to drop her poised façade and let Max see how desperate she was to be alone with him, to touch him, to taste him. She let out a silent breath in relief as the doors finally parted, quickly fishing a key out and stepping in.

Max’s eyes lit up watching her insert the key and press the accompanying “P” button. Penthouse. His cock jumped in exhilaration, and suddenly his hands were on her as the elevator doors closed. The touch of his hands on her waist and his soft breath on her neck threatened to break her and make her go feral. She fought her urge to whip around, grab his hair roughly, and pull his lips to meet hers—her resolve to appear as composed as possible still strong. As Max wound himself around her like the snake he was, pressing his body to hers and peppering lazy kisses along her throat, she counted down the seconds until the elevator stopped at her floor.

Stepping out of the claustrophobic box into the airy suite instantly flipped the switch on her demeanor. The freedom of absolute privacy from the outside world washed over her and she suddenly found herself unreservedly overtaken by the lust that had been simmering within her, pulling Max out of the elevator by the lapel of his jacket. Greedy lips collided while hands caressed skin and pulled hair. Neither wanting to waste another second, they clumsily made their way through the bedroom doorway, quickly discarding the last of each other’s clothing.

Max continued backing her toward the plush bed as she nipped and sucked at his neck. The groan he let out at her teeth grazing his skin told her he liked a little dominance. When the backs of her knees met the side of the bed she disconnected from him, looking into his eyes through her long lashes and shaking her head as she rounded on him and shoved him down instead. Max grinned devilishly as she straddled him and roughly reclaimed his lips.

“Touch me,” she said breathily between sloppy kisses, guiding his right hand from her hair at the nape of her neck down to her aching core.

“Right down to business. I respect that,” Max said, teasingly repeating her words from earlier that evening. Without hesitation, he inserted two digits, eliciting a deep moan from her right into his mouth. “So wet for me.” He gathered her slick and languidly drew out his fingers to tightly circle her swollen clit.

The sob she let out was nearly animal as he applied just the right amount of pressure but kept his movement frustratingly slow. “Fuck,” she keened, “faster.”

Max bit her bottom lip and quickened his pace ever so slightly. “’Atta girl, tell me what to do.”

She slid a hand down his chest and abdomen, grasping his firm cock, and quickly jerked his head back by the hair with the other to look him in his dilated eyes. “Make me cum and you can have whatever you want,” she promised as she stroked him so softly that he physically ached for more.

He tried to hide the breath that caught in his throat and laid back on his elbows. “Get up here,” he said, grabbing the backs of her thighs and pulling her toward his face. She laughed sensually as she shuffled her way up his torso. He greeted her throbbing bundle of nerves with a smooth lap of his tongue and hooked his arms around each thigh to draw her down until she was sat on him completely. He teased her no longer, tasting her sweetness deeply and sucking her clit, immediately turning her into a whimpering mess.

“Fuck, yes. Just like that, don’t stop.” Her cries of satisfaction and writhing on Max’s skilled tongue elicited his own moans and had him bucking his hips in anticipation of burying himself deep inside her wet heat. “Yes! Right there, right there” she chanted. Max increased the pace of his massage and shook his head, sucking her in impossibly deeper, his encouraging moans sending vibrations through her body and overstimulating her. She couldn’t form words any longer as the growing knot in her stomach came undone and she convulsed, crying out the god she did or didn’t believe in and releasing her orgasm into Max’s welcoming mouth.

Max—ever the proud lover—didn’t stop until she’d nearly collapsed. He finally freed her tender clit when she pulled his hair so hard it threatened to rip out at the root. Despite her promise, she didn’t wait for Max’s direction before taking her next steps, needing him inside of her as soon as humanly possible. She slithered down his body until her wanting core hovered just above his painfully hard cock. Before she could grip him herself, Max grabbed her roughly by the hip to hold her steady as he lined himself up and ran his leaking tip through her soaked folds. They moaned in unison while he repeated his movements once, twice, three times, until he abruptly thrust up into her. He bottomed out, sheathing her completely, and gave her a moment to adjust to his size.

Without a word, she ran a hand up his chiseled abdomen and placed it on his chest for leverage as she began to slowly rise up off of him. She stopped as the head of his dick reached her entrance, just before it could fall out, and sank back down as slowly as she had risen. Max threw his head back into the mattress, eyes rolled far back in his head, and cried out in ecstasy. She lifted herself again, reiterating her slow descent and moaned proudly at the sight of Max’s nods of pleasure. “You like that, huh, baby,” she cooed.

“Mhmm,” Max nodded again.

“Use your words. Tell me what you want,” she said, continuing to lazily ride him, drawing out each lift and descent.

Max grunted as her cervix bumped his sensitive tip once more. “Need you to ride me,” he said. “So fucking tight and wet for me. Bounce on my cock.” He gave her no chance to quicken her pace herself. He took hold of her ass cheeks brusquely, spreading them slightly, and guiding her down hard over his length, meeting her in the middle with a thrust.

She didn’t protest, giving up control and allowing Max to set his desired pace. It was fast and raucous by this point as Max’s need for release had steadily built up in the act of giving pleasure.

 “God, you’re so fucking good,” she sighed out through a hazy, cock-drunk smile.

Max practically growled at the praise, tightening his grip to hold her in place and giving her everything he had. The bottom of his spine was starting to tingle and his need to cum was taking over.

She intuited the meaning of his increased intensity and woke slightly from her sex-induced fog as she remembered they hadn’t used a condom. “Shit, wait,” she exclaimed. “You can’t cum inside me, you have to pull out.”

“But you feel so fucking good,” he said without really processing the bigger picture. She was right, of course, and had he been in his right mind he would have agreed in an instant.

“Please,” she said through her moans. “Fuck me on my back. I want you to cum all over me.”

The sound of her begging and the thought of her with her legs spread for him, covered in his cum, got his full attention. He flipped them over and kept his rhythm, throwing her legs over his shoulders and hitting even deeper now than before. He watched himself fill her over and over as she writhed beneath him and grabbed at whatever she could get her hands on. The tingling at the base of his spine formed again and his hips jerked erratically. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he let out through gritted teeth. He pulled out just in time and she quickly grabbed his shaft, pumping him fervently and letting his ropes of cum spread across her stomach and chest.

Max stayed hovered over her for a moment while he caught his breath, eventually flopping over next to her. As he recovered, she raised herself onto her elbows, surveying the mess they’d painted onto her body together, giggling in her pleasured, post-coital daze. “I’ll clean this up in a minute,” she muttered, collapsing back down with a smile and closing her eyes.

_______________

Max slowly left the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty next to him. She was gorgeous, and she’d been the best fuck he’d had in quite some time, but he had a job to do. Somewhere in the well-decorated penthouse was the money he’d come for. He had no trouble finding and pocketing the cash in her purse that she’d so carelessly left right by the elevator, but $1,500 wasn’t going to get him far—he needed the trust checks. Based on the state of the place, it was clear she had taken up permanent residence there. As stealthily as he could, he tore the place apart searching for the coveted checkbook, growing more and more irritated as he continued to find nothing.

Time passed quickly, and he found himself scavenging through her purse yet again. Knowing nothing was likely to magically appear, he decided to take a moment to study the contents of her wallet. He pulled out her ID card, finally putting a name to the face. He smiled to himself when he read her last name, recognizing it instantly and feeling pride in his ability to successfully spot old money types in a crowd. He was still silently patting himself on the back when the sound of a throat clearing behind him broke the early morning silence he’d been working in. Fuck.

“You’re robbing me,” she asked flatly, seemingly unsurprised. “Pathetic.”

Max chuckled darkly, dropping the charm he’d laid on mere hours ago. “You let a nameless stranger fuck you raw and spend the night in your pretty little penthouse suite. Yeah, I’m pathetic.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as he approached her, ID still clutched in his fingers.

“What’ll you tell daddy when your money’s all gone,” he taunted, brushing a featherlight knuckle across her cheekbone. He was taken aback as she broke into laughter instead of starting to break under his touch like he expected.

“’What’ll you tell daddy when your money’s all gone,’” she mimicked through her laughter. “Man, you are funny. See, for you take all my money, I’d have to have it first, you fucking idiot.”

Max’s eyes widened. Admittedly he hadn’t inquired about her age, trusting that she looked old enough to be an adult, and he hadn’t checked her date of birth on her ID for lack of interest. She stared him down, enjoying seeing the wheels furiously spinning in his head.

“Calm down, I’m not even close to a child,” she assured him. “Daddy is just a misogynist.” Max’s expression turned from alarm to confusion. “We’ll get to that in a second. First, your name.”

“Fuck off,” Max said.

She scoffed sarcastically. “Well, that’s not very nice. It’s only fair now that you know who I am, and you’re trying to take me for everything I’ve got.” She waited a moment, but Max stayed silent. “Ah, come on. You tell me your name, and I won’t have your kneecaps shot out by daddy’s friends.”

Max’s eyes darted toward the window as if he’d be able to see in the flesh the burly henchmen he was now imagining. He’d never been in this position before and he couldn’t confidently call her bluff—how else do these old money types keep their money and connections but through brute force? He resigned with a sigh. “Max.”

“Max,” she repeated. “I’d say nice to meet you, but—well, you get it. Anyway, Max, you can call me Doe.”

Max sneered. “Dough? Like money? The jokes really wri—”

“No,” she interjected. “Doe, D-O-E, like a deer. For my eyes.”

Max snorted derisively. “Okay, Doe.”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped. “Anyway, misogyny. You know what that word means, right? Maybe a big one for someone of your… station.”

“My station? God, you fucking people. Yes, I know what misogyny means.”

Doe nodded, smiling up at him in jest. “Impressive. See, daddy does have me set up with a trust—you’re right about that. The problem is, daddy doesn’t think women can handle millions, let alone billions of dollars, no matter how old we are or how much education we have or how long we work our asses off to prove ourselves. So, daddy set my trust up with one stipulation: I get married, I get the money.” Max raised a brow as he took in her predicament. “Right? You see my problem, then.”

Max shook his head as if to clear it. “Wait, so you have a billion-fucking-dollar trust waiting for you—billion with a ‘b’—and you won’t just do what you have to do to get it?”

“No, I will not,” she exclaimed, disgusted at the notion of even considering it. “Not in his way, anyway.”

“The will,” Max said, seemingly connecting the dots. “You think he’s leaving it all to you? He won’t let you touch your own trust and you think he’s leaving his entire empire to you?”

Doe glowered at him. She had thought that a possibility at one time, of course, but had long since admitted to herself that he would never entrust her with the family fortune. She’d even hoped that he would at least leave her enough by her standards, but that wasn’t going to happen either. Deep down, Doe wasn’t much different from Max. She wanted her money, she wanted all the money, and the thought of losing the luxurious life she’d grown accustomed to all her life made her sick. She wasn’t cut out for a boring, regular life. And, thus, she found herself here.

“Fuck you,” she retorted. “No, not the will—I’m not a fool. I have a plan, and that’s where you come in.”

Max stared at her in silent confusion.

“Please don’t drool on my floor,” Doe teased, patting his slack jaw. “Here, let me spell it out for you. I went down to the bar last night to hunt, just like you. I’ve been scouting and, like I said, only finding old pervs. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be face to face with a 70-year-old man’s flaccid penis while you wait for the blue pill to kick in? Not worth the fucking money. I physically could not do it anymore. Anyway, I pivoted to the leeches—at least you’re hot, ya know?”

“Leeches?”

“Yes, leeches. You look for money, that’s all you want, and you’ll bleed it from any woman who has it and is charitable enough to look past the Brooks Brothers sale rack suit and take you home,” Doe continued. “Call me altruistic—I scoped you out, caught you in your most desperate moment when you were just about to throw in the towel, and reeled you right in. I’ll admit I wasn’t sure how it would turn out at first, but you’re a fantastic lay.”

“Truly pathetic,” Max muttered.

“Aw, Maxy, don’t be mad,” Doe tutted, running a hand through his sleek hair. “Really, you were so talented even just as a quickie. And then, even better than I expected, I woke up for a little morning round two only to find you trying to burgle me. I mean, truly, what a perfect set up.”

“You’re pitiful,” Max spat, trying to gain some control over the unforeseen situation he now found himself in. “And the saddest part is how easy it all could’ve been. Look at you. You’re beautiful, smart, you could cut practically any man down with that fucking mouth of yours, good in bed, and fucking loaded. You could pull any sucker out there and live happily ever after. Hell, just pick one, get married, get the money, then divorce him.”

“Just good in bed? Not even great?” Max blustered in annoyance at her quips. “Don’t get huffy with me. Anyway, you just laid out the whole plan.” She paused, waiting for it to click for him.

Max’s expression quickly shifted from annoyance to an amused smirk. “I’m the sucker, huh?”

“Now you’re getting it,” Doe smiled back.

“No,” Max said, dropping the smirk in in instant. “Absolutely fucking not.”

Doe laughed sweetly. “Oh, but you are. I wasn’t kidding about the kneecaps.”

Max stepped away from her, pointing an angry finger in her face. “You’re a fucking psychopath. I’m not fucking marrying you.”

Doe rolled her eyes at Max’s aggravation. “Chill out, you’ll get your cut.”

That got Max’s attention. “My cut?” He could feel his frustration diffusing from a boil to a simmer.

“Of course,” Doe said. “What, you didn’t think I’d leave you high and dry, did you? I’m not a monster, like you.” She teased, sidling her way back into his space, gently caressing his chest. “I told you last night, make me cum and you can have whatever you want. You kept up your end of the bargain and I plan to keep mine. We’ll just get married, get the money, split it, and we can go our separate ways. We’ll be set for life—do whatever we want. Billions with a ‘b,’ remember?”

Doe’s soft touch and devious mind coupled with the thought of money the likes of which Max couldn’t fully comprehend had his cock twitching in his briefs. It was extreme—far beyond anything he’d ever planned—but he couldn’t deny it was genius. He’d striven to not be tied to another person in his game again after working with Madeline for so long, ultimately becoming completely unable to trust her as a partner, but this allowed him a freedom to walk away that he’d never had before so long as Doe kept her word. And even if she didn’t, the marriage would grant him access to the funds whether she liked it or not. He had nothing to lose.

Doe placed a delicate kiss on his neck. “So? What do you say,” she asked, pulling him out of his contemplative trance. “60/40?”

Max smiled widely, cupping either side of Doe’s face and, just like the night before, led her backward into the dimly lit bedroom. “Billions with a fucking ‘b,’” he shouted excitedly and captured her mouth in a heated kiss. Doe would get her money and her morning round two.

[rainbowsky]

Hello Rainbowsky,

Is Rocco using the 227 kadian a coincidence? If not, I really can’t understand why on earth did he choose that time to post.

I was happy to know that he defended WYB but I really felt bad when I saw the time.

Rainbowsky, what do you think?

With all due respect, Anon - and everyone else who has messaged me about this...

I am deeply disappointed by BXG these past couple days - more so than I've been maybe even in YEARS. Y'all are behaving like a bunch of toxic solos, many of you being blindly instigated by toxic solos who are manipulating your feelings for their own ends.

DD went to an event and had a good time, looked amazing - one of the rare occasions where he's not wearing a plain black suit - posted multiple amazing videos and photo sets, was the guest of honor and the most anticipated face of the evening...

And all anyone GAF about is this petty drama bullshit.

I've gotten so many messages about Rocco and the various toxic and often deeply homophobic rumors going around about him, about GQ and their supposed rift with GG, about this stupid F'n kadian, and I've had only ONE message about DD and how great he looked and how great it was to see him in such a casual feeling setting, looking relaxed and happy.

This is toxic fandom, in a nutshell. This is toxic fandom.

I had thought y'all were above all that. I really had. But it seems Tumblr really is no less toxic than Twitter. At least, that's what it feels like these past couple days.

What do I think of this kadian moment? I think that it was likely intentional, and I find myself laughing at how sassy he is. That's what I think. GG's fans were pushing a hateful lie about DD - which it seems like all they're good for these days - and flooding his photo post with comments about DD supposedly lying about his height, and his response was to slap them with the facts.

If the kadian was intentional - and I suspect it probably was - it was a slap on XFX, not on GG. Because fuck them, seriously. Fuck them for constantly dogging DD's every step with hate hs on Weibo. You've probably heard about so many of the attacks on DD over the last while. "Desperate illiterate", his height, etc. What you might not know is that every single one of them is orchestrated and pushed by XFX.

2/27 is XFX's shame (that sadly they have no shame about). It is NOT GG's shame. He did no wrong, and everyone knows it. His fans haven't learned a thing, and keep doing this kind of garbage, which might one day lead to GG's downfall or to another period of having to lie low in obscurity, etc.

The kadian shows the post to be directed squarely at XFX, where it belongs. Nothing more. The only people who will notice or care about it are the assholes in the comments arguing. Bystanders won't notice or care. It does absolutely NOTHING to harm GG. It just embarrasses and calls out XFX.

If DD can go hang out with and be the guest of honor for an event that is a huge feather in Rocco's cap, making Rocco look good in China and internationally - the man is getting a lot of accolades for the event - if he can walk the red carpet with him and be friendly with and have an obviously good relationship with him (Edit: and can hug him like a good friend), then no fan has any excuse for holding any kind of grudge against him.

There is no one closer to GG than DD, so if Rocco is OK with DD, he's OK with me. End of fucking story.

People who are reading into this all kinds of conspiracy theory BS need to go touch some grass. Seriously.

This is a fandom of GG and DD, not of Rocco Liu. Stop focusing on stupid shit, people.

[prodigal-explorer]

You say that both Palestine and Israel are in the right and wrong, which first of all is the most bullshit I've ever heard.

Stop saying that you're "staying neutral" when it's fucked up, sick headed people like you that the government leeches off of. Its your ignorance that they profit off of, your privilege to lay in bed, to watch a fun movie, to hang out with friends and eat your full plate. That is a privilege that Palestines dream of.

Little kids dreams of Palestine dream of watch TV. They dream of playing outside without the fear of their lives on the line. They dream of going to school, having families, growing old, yet Israel kills them for no reason. This is genocide of innocent civilians.

And don't say "BuT hAmAs!!" As if that's your supporting argument. Nothing, and I mean nothing in the world can justify the genocide happening in Palestine right now. The numbers don't lie, Annie. The 30,000+ people didn't deserve it.

I hope you enjoy riding Israel dick and I hope the true guilt you feel once you finally see past your comfort zone hurts you so bad.

Genuinely, for all of us. Delete your pathetic excuse of an account and never post a thing ever again.

hey!

first of all, i never said that i’m staying neutral. wanting peace isn’t the same as staying neutral. i’m not encouraging the genocide just because i’m holding empathy for both sides and wanting both sides to have peace.

your cruel words are just a further example of all the hate that social media is spreading that isn’t helping anyone. i’m spreading information about charities to SUPPORT PALESTINE. i’m spreading information to uplift the voices of israeli and palestinian people who have LOST FAMILY MEMBERS due to this conflict, and trying to uplift the things THEY are saying. if i deleted my account, all of that stuff would be gone. the stuff that’s helping palestine. so you want palestine to have less help? that’s so woke of you. /s

i never said that israel should be bombing innocent people. i’m not supporting that and i never ever did. i never justified the genocide one single time and the fact that you think i did only goes to show that you didn’t read my posts. you just wanted to get angry and righteous and you chose me to attack, but it’s not going to work. i will apologize for saying that both sides are in the wrong because that is a bit of a bold statement which could easily be taken as excusing the actions of the israeli government, which was not my intention. palestine didn’t do anything to deserve this attack. the actions of hamas do not represent palestine as a whole.

for the record, if i had to choose a side, i would choose palestine. the way that the israeli government is using the money america is feeding them is horrible and disgusting. too many people have died in this conflict. but it is unfair to paint israel as a whole in a light that suggests that they are trying to wipe out the palestinian race because that’s not what’s happening. did you know that in israel, citizens are required BY LAW to serve in the military? they’re sacrificing their lives and being forced to do things they don’t agree with because the government is forcing them. israeli people don’t enjoy doing this. if you’re going to point fingers at someone, point at the 0.01% of israeli government officials who are making these decisions. not at an entire race, an entire population of people who are just doing what they are forced to do. it’s hypocritical to get mad at people for addressing hamas while also accusing all of israel of terrorism when the only real decision makers are the government. it’s the same thing, blaming an entire population for something that only a small group of people are responsible for. neither should be encouraged.

i don’t agree with what the israeli government is doing whatsoever. but that is not an excuse to wish death upon the people who didn’t even make any of these choices. these people were born in israel and they have to follow the laws. you can’t stand here while you’re privileged and on your phone typing angry little paragraphs that you wouldn’t do the same to keep yourself and your family safe.

so many people are using this issue as an excuse to be antisemitic. that is what i’m addressing in these posts. people like you are so fucking performative that you can’t see what the real issue is.

i know both israeli and palestinian people whose families have died. who’s YOUNG family members have died due to this conflict. and you know what they are telling me?

they aren’t telling me to go on social media and attack random people. they aren’t telling me to post about how all israelis/palestinians are awful people who deserve to die. they are telling me that the only way to stop all these innocent children and people as a whole from dying is to promote PEACE. and guess what. it isn’t just palestinian people saying this to me. ITS ISRAELI PEOPLE TOO.

THATS WHAT IM ADDRESSING IN MY POSTS. promoting PEACE is how we can do more for these poor children than just getting angry on social media. when we pick sides and polarize, we create more of a divide between two beautiful nations who deserve to live in peace and harmony. we further remove the chances of there being a reconciliation.

what do you suggest we do? kill all the israeli children? what will that accomplish??? this is so much more complicated than petty revenge. what feeds a war is the possibility of winning. and creating sides and pretending that the other side are full of evil heartless monsters who are doing this for no reason is only making the war WORSE because it fabricated the possibility of one side winning MORE.

so if you think you’re helping anybody with this bullshit, you’re not. your mindset is a prime example of the horrible performative activism that america is doing in order to pretend to be helpful while thousands of innocent children are dying.

maybe put some of this righteous energy into donating, or listening to israeli and palestinian voices instead of talking over them and speaking for them. that’s what would really be helpful in a time like this.

[kissorkill16]

Dreams: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Bubba visits Nicky in a dream.

Nicky filled up a glass of water, and put one of his prescription pills in. He drank the pill and water, and suddenly felt sleepy.

"Huh. Mr. Murtaugh wasn't lying. These things really make you instantly feel sleepy.", he thought. He walked to his bed, and draped the blankets over his tired body.

Soon enough, everything went dark.

He found himself surrounded by a white void. He looked around to see if anyone else was here, but he didn't see anyone.

"Hello?", Nicky called out. "Is anyone there?"

He kept looking around, not really believing that he was the only one here. His eyes stopped at a sitting figure, they seemed to have grey hair and a maroon dress.

"Excuse me.", he called out to the figure. "Do you know where I am?"

The sitting figure turned their head around to look at him, and Nicky couldn't believe who it was.

Bubba Fein.

She blankly looked at him, and then she smiled. "Hello, little wolf.", she said. "It's been a long while, hasn't it?"

"BUBBA!"

Nicky ran to his grandmother, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. The old lady stilled for a moment, but then she hugged back.

Out of nowhere, Nicky started crying. Not just crying, but full on bawling. He buried his face into Bubba's shoulder, and Bubba didn't even seem to mind that he was getting her shoulder wet.

"I'm so sorry, Bubba!", he said. "I didn't mean it when I said I hated you, I was just so angry when you called me cursed. But I promise, Bubba, I didn't cause Lucy's death."

Bubba rubbed Nicky's back, "I know you didn't, my love. It's mostly my fault for your outburst. I always made you isolate yourself from everyone, and I backed it up with the bullshit excuse of saying I was just trying to protect you.", she said. "But I really do love you, little wolf."

"I love you too, Bubba. I love you so much."

Bubba took her grandson's hand in her own, "But apart from that, I see you've been making some outstanding progress."

Nicky tilted her head up to look at her, "What do you mean?"

"You've been making so many friends in your little club, and you've made peace with the ones that have made your life hell. It must feel really good, doesn't it?"

Nicky nodded.

"And I'm glad your parents are actually trying to be parents."

"Heh, yeah.", said Nicky. He curled in on himself and buried his face in his knees. "I don't like yelling at people."

Bubba looked at him.

"I love my parents, and I love you, and I love my friends. But when I yell at any of you guys, I always end up feeling bad that I hurt them. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Bubba sighed, "I know you don't, little wolf. No one does. But sometimes, things you've been holding in for a while, and whenever you want to get your point across for someone to listen, you just have to yell out loud.", she looked down at her lap. "I was angry when I heard you've been hanging out with that little Peterson boy, because I thought he was an omen, all because of that murder of crows. I was afraid I was going to lose you, and I just..."

Nicky laid his head on Bubba's shoulder, "I know you just wanted to protect me, even if you did it in your own horrible way, and even if you had a poor way of showing it, you just wanted to keep me safe. I love you for that, Bubba. I've always loved you for trying to protect me."

Bubba smiled.

She planted a kiss on Nicky's head, "And I love you too, my dear. I'm happy with how much you grew.", she said. "The only thing I'm suspicious about is that therapist you've been seeing."

"Mr. Murtaugh?"

Bubba nodded. "I want you to be careful around that man, because you never know what's going on underneath that creepy smile."

Nicky smiled warmly at his grandmother, and gave her another hug.

Nicky woke up, and it took him a while to figure out where he was.

He stood up, recognizing his dark teal wallpaper and disturbing colored pencil drawing on the wall, and his Inventor's Club group photo.

He took a deep breath, and let it out. One thing he didn't even know he was doing was smiling.

"Wow, Mr. Murtaugh was telling the truth. I am smiling.", he thought. "Those things really do wonders, don't they?"

"Narf, breakfast is ready!"

Nicky opened his door and slowly walked out when he heard his mother call out his nickname. He still felt unfamiliar with his surroundings, but he was sure it would all blow away sooner or later.

He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and that made his morning even better.

[who-canceled-roger-rabbit]

Ms. Brown: Let me tell you what "Once in a Lifetime" is about. It's all about a guy who doesn't want to admit responsibility for sleeping around. The entire song, it's a metaphor for an affair. Ms. Blonde: No, no. It's about dedicating your whole existence to chasing material status symbols, then realizing— Ms. Brown: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out, Marie Kondo. Tell that fucking bullshit to the drum circle. "Once in a Lifetime" is not about spending your life in pursuit of whatever pointless bullshit you're thinking of. That is what "Road to Nowhere" is about, granted. No argument about that. Ms. Orange: Which one is "Road to Nowhere"? Nice Gal Eddie: "Road to Nowhere" was a big-ass hit for the Heads. I don't even follow this Top of the Pops shit, and I've at least heard of "Road to Nowhere." Ms. Orange: Look, asshole, I didn't say I ain't heard of it. All I asked was, how does it go? Excuse me for not being the world's biggest Talking Heads fan. Ms. Blonde: Personally, I can do without 'em. Ms. Blue: I like their early stuff. You know, "Psycho Killer," "Take Me to the River." Once they got into ripping off Fela Kuti, I don't know, I tuned out. Ms. Brown: Hey, you ladies are making me lose my train of thought here. I was saying something, what was it? Señora Blanca: What's that? Ms. Brown: What the fuck was I talking about? Ms. Pink: You said "Road to Nowhere" was about chasing vague bullshit, but "Once in a Lifetime" is about cheating. Ms. Brown: Let me tell you what "Once in a Lifetime" is about. It's all about this dude who doesn't wanna own up to the consequences of his actions. Like one day he just found himself behind the wheel of a large automobile wondering how he got there, where that highway goes—so he can keep on driving off to bone some tramp who lives in a shotgun shack in another part of the world, pretending it just sort of happened. And then he's letting the days go by, keeping this act up as though it's just once in a lifetime that this'll ever happen, like he's always been loyal to his woman and he's gonna stay loyal again after this one little oversight, and it'll all be water flowing under the bridge. When really he's just a serial womanizer making excuses, same as it ever was. You know, like every other fuckboy in history. So then he thinks of the post-nut clarity he gets as suddenly realizing, wait a minute. This is not my beautiful house! This is not my beautiful wife! My god, what have I done? Saying as if he haplessly blundered his way into banging this hoe or something, you know? Look where my hand was! Time isn't holding up—like oh shit, how am I gonna explain this one when I get home? Here comes the twister when the little lady figures it out! Ms. Blue (sarcastically applauding): How many lyrics did you manage to work into that whole monologue? Señora Blanca: A lot.

[rawchae]

Hit Record.

Non-Idol!Bang Chan x Artist!Fem! Reader

Content: Fluff!, Tiny bit suggestive

Word Count: 5.1K

Author's Note: This one just came to me right as before I was sleeping so, I'm sorry for the mistakes. 😔

Summary: Christopher was only a simple man who wanted to hear his songs sung, but when his boss becomes the hindering force, sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hands to reach your dreams. That's when he meets you, the missing link in his artistry... and possibly his heart?

Content Warning: Profanities, suggestive content if I missed anything, please tell me!

"How many times do I have to say that this shit ain't gonna be bought by anyone of those fucking producers, huh?!" The sound of papers scattering and desk weights hitting the floor reverberate around the office. Despite the closed off style and seemingly otherworldly feel within those four walls, Bang Chan knew that everyone who was outside heard the deafening bellow.

He can't blame them, he isn't the first one to have been ridiculed like this anyway. It just so happens that the younger caught his boss at such an edge with the continuous debuts and, you know, usual business.

"You are on thin ice, Christopher," The older man scolds, a harsh and threatening point towards his direction with an icy glare lit the fear of the usually composed songwriter.

"This shitty excuse of a song isn't doing you any good. I tell you to follow the correct formula, you do it!" The older man slams his fists on the desk after his statement, making the younger one flinch.

"But sir, the identity-" He is immediately cut off with a chortle.

"All that identity bullshit you're aiming for is gonna be your downfall. We have a brand and you being here is threatening it." He swipes his hair backwards before groaning frustratedly, "I got you here because you promised good work, I suggest sticking to it. Your dreams can fucking wait." He clicks his tongue, fixing his desk back frustratedly after his outburst.

"Don't just stand there looking all pathetic! Go back to work or don't bother working back here!"

"Look on the bright side, hyung. Least he didn't shatter your USB drive and tear up your notes." Changbin offers the slightest bit of comfort at a defeated lump he calls his friend, Chan, on the couch of their shared ampartment. The two of them, and one other guy named Jisung, had been renting the place for real cheap, it being the best deal with the work being offered to them at their current predicament anyway.

"That's not the point, Bin. This is the nth time I've been closed to getting fired, if this keeps up, I'm back to a freaking office job." His eyes drift around the room before sighing deeply.

"Lucky for you, I don't want that to happen, hyung. We'll find a way to get through this. If not with your boss, then your writing." Changbin says, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder with a soft smile.

Chris offers an unenthusiastic nod, Changbin's words seem awfully nice but it's not a solid action he needs to take at the moment. To be honest, Chris wasn't sure what he plans on doing. Changbin and Han don't seem put together in their setup but at least they had much more of a stable situation thanks to the artists they're writing for and the many others who were anticipating their scores and composition. Meanwhile Chris, despite starting so young at the industry, has somehow, never really made a mark with his own craft.

Chris believed in the "jack of all trades", hoping that one of the genres he'd make would spark interest, but with almost 100 songs unrecorded, only 2 were really officially put on his credits, and haven't been hitting much with the revenue he'd hoping it would enable.

The apartment door creaks open, snapping the two's heads towards the source, the figure behind it being their other roommate carrying what appears to be a large Domino's pizza.

"Changbin hyung told me, so, I thought it'd be nice we have something good for once."

Laughter and glasses clinking echoed the earlier gloomy atmosphere of the trio's apartment, now complete for the day, it felt the three could unwind after everything that had happened in their lives.

"And then he said, "You're on thin ice, Christopher!". I almost shit my pants, it was so fucking embarrassing and no one but us was even there!" Chris groans as he recalls earlier's events, running a hand through his face while the other two laughed at his state.

"I remember when we had to watch Young K hyung get scolded like that, he almost tore up his work if Sungjin hyung didn't hold his shoulder. I guess it comes to the most talented of people." Han shrugs before finishing the last piece of his slice. Changbin nods in agreement, a small laugh on his lips before sipping on his rootbeer. Chris sighs, slouching on his chair as he begins contemplating about his next move to either get noticed with his own work or follow the formula he was given to stay in the workplace.

Han notices the sudden change and jokts slightly, an idea striking in his head. Changbin notices the younger and scrunches his eyebrows questioning his movements with just his eyes. A telepathic communication, if that was possible for the duo, even. Chris was none the wiser, too busy in his own head finding means and inspiration to write what he was asked for.

Finding a client outside of the company was hard, finding a new company altogether was even harder.

"Hey, Hyung. By any chance do you still have any samples you could give me?" Han cuts through the silence and looks up at the eldest with Changbin wondering what was going to happen. Chris snaps back to reality and adjusts his posture at his youngest's query.

"Yeah, my portfolio's updated. Why do you ask?" Chris is at the edge of his seat, wondering what the younger one had in mind.

"Well, there's this pop artist of ours who wants to try out new genres on their upcoming full album. They write too, but had asked me if I can find more people to help with composition and engineering since the old one had just been laid off." He offers, scrolling through his phone about something Chris couldn't see.

"A pop artist? I mean, that's what I'm basically writing for—"

"Oh no, no." Han cuts him off immediately in a panic, "She DOESN't want more pop sounds in the album. Maybe RnBs or Ballads or Rock."

Chris' had gone through a few emotions before relief washed over at the suggested genres. "You had me scared there, I thought it was cancelled before it had even begun. But, I think I can do that, I don't have any current clients and my boss would probably love to hear if I'm part of a team, officially." Chris smiles, his dimples showing, eager to hear about the work he might finally be a part of.

"Perfect! Don't worry about your boss, I'll ask the manager to send a formal letter, and if needed, I'll even approach them myself."

"You really want to go back to his office?"

"Not in a million years, but for you, hyung, I'll try."

"All right, all right, this calls for a celebration, so why don't we head to the balcony and ACTUALLY get some beer?" Changbin bears witness to the exchange before finally inserting himself to offer the other two another chance to unwind.

It was there that Chris realized how lucky he was with Han and Changbin, age was a small, crossable barrier for them, however, their deep love and affection for each other was just evident with everything they did together and so on.

"Y/N? Your team is here to discuss about the songs." A kind, older figure taps you on the shoulder. Your head leaning on your hand, trying so hard not to fall asleep on the company cafeteria. You were trying your hardest to come up with more songs for the album, but none of them hitting the right way that would go well with your title track and album theme.

You turn back to see your manager, their concerned face looking at you as they offer a hand. "I love that you're trying to write, but you haven't had sleep for two days now. Deadline isn't until in 2 months and besides, I trust Han with finding composers for you."

"I'm sorry, Unnie... It's just that, I trusted Hyunjae so much, he gets the sound I'm looking for..." You whine just a bit, your hands covering your face, almost tearing up again.

"I know, but you used "trusted" for a reason. What he did to them cost him his job and his freedom, thankfully, and you're lucky he didn't have the guts to get you or anybody else." Your manager tried to offer comfort, but with the news about one of the people in the company, they had gotten him kicked out, lucky for you and also a sort of curse. Now, you're catching up to 4 songs that haven't been completed and another 5 songs without scores.

"GOD, Why are they such dicks!?" Y/N groaned frustratedly before immediately trying to calm down. "Well, I hope Han found someone overnight." You said with a hint of sarcasm. As you and your manager walked towards the studio, your feet seemed to have been more dragging about wanting to enter the room. You sigh heavily and compose yourself before turning the door knob and slowly pushing the door to get a peek inside.

Only having 3 people inside, Han, one of your managers' staff and a person you haven't met before. Personally, anyway. Christopher was the name that flashed in your head when you saw him, slightly doubting about the accuracy, but you know him thanks to the fact that he was been in the company for quite a while, maybe working with a different set of divisions, but anyway.

"Y/N! Manager noona! You guys are just in time. The others haven't arrived yet, but I did find you a new lyricist and sound engineer!" Han happily announced, presenting the slightly taller man beside him. Despite the duo lacking in the height department, which you were too, he had the aura of someone who could possibly loom over you if you stood next to him. He commanded the room, but didn't demand the attention. He was firm, but his small smile said otherwise.

You'd think you would fear him, but you could only stare and eye him in awe with how he radiated himself in the room.

"This is Christopher Bang. He's from Division C1. Wrote a smoking formal letter to his boss and he was set and ready." Han bragged, pumping his fists like a kid with enthusiasm surging through him.

"You guys can call me Chan, it's my tag, but Chris is also fine." He offered a handshake towards you two and you couldn't help but notice the man's build. You didn't want to stare for too long, but that was a little late when your manager nudged you on the side, popping your imagination bubble just in time to listen to Han.

"We have a few sample here with us we'd love for you to here and the lyrics sheet for some of the scores you're still filling up." Han says, asking both of them to sit down as Chris immediately got to work, your manager sits on the couch beside his staff as you were asked to sit in between the two. Han started explaining all the technicals, hooking up the music to the board and everything while Chris was watching and anticipating behind you with his hands clasped together.

"Just so you know, all of these are written and demonstrated by Chan hyung himself." Han wiggled his eyebrows teasingly as your eyes shifted towards Chris with a sweet smile. From there, Chris thought that the anxiety of an artist like you hearing his songs would be the reason to wrack his nerves, but, with the way your smile comforted him in such a situation, there was probably no reason for him to worry. His heart beating fast was no pressure from the songs, but more of how pretty you looked when you smiled towards him.

Night fell and the last pieces of the today's last song was recorded and readied. At least 9 out of 15 songs for the album were finished, the rest had edits to be made before final approval, Han and the rest were just eager to get it done. You were too, considering that the Chris and Han were adamant to give the best results, had been the kindest during recording sessions to aid you and your singing.

Other trainings had to been in the following days and your next recording wouldn't be until in 4 days.

"Miss? Any final edits you'd like to make before we put this in the folders?" Chris turns his swivel chair towards you, your manager had entrusted you to Han and Chris as they had other scheduling matters to complete. "Can I hear the layering for 'XO?' I feel like I went to high here and not enough here." You pointed out on the monitor. Chris nodded, fixing the sounds and layering of your voice and the instrumental before lettng the track play once more.

"I love that! Thank you! Also, it's Y/N, you don't have to be so formal, Chan-ssi."

"You say that, but you just called me, mister." The eldest one pouts, earning laughter from both you and Han. The younger man stands up, groaning and moaning about his strained muscles. "Well, I'm gonna head out. I'll finish the track later at dawn, I just wanna nap for a bit." Han admits, slinging his bag on his shoulder.

"Okay, I'll finish these tracks first then head back." Chris notifies the younger, concern washing over Y/N.

"Are you sure? You don't have to finish both all at once. You might not get much sleep." You say looking at Chan worriedly. He reciprocates the concern with a gummy smile, "I'm fine, I work best at night anyway."

Han bids his goodbye to the both of you, closing the door behind him, leaving the two of you in slight awkward silence. The only thing reflecting in the walls is Chris' mouse clicking and your slight humming.

"You should get some rest, Y/N-ssi." Chris cuts the silence. Deep down, he didn't really want you to leave, but that would be a bit selfish and stalker-y of him.

"I'm fine. I want to listen to the drafts anyway." You say im earnest, sittiny beside him with your legs crossed, watching him work.

Chris wasn't sure what was happening, but the silence of the room felt deafening more than he opted for. His peripheral vision would catch you eyeing the soundboard and he wanted nothing more than to talk about it more and more. His heart was back to its fast thumping it almost felt unhealthy. He shifts in his seat to keep himself at bay, worried that if given the chance, he'd fuck it all up if it means getting to know the Jeong Y/N.

"I'm surprised you agreed to do this, Chan-ssi." Chris slowed down his work to look at you. Your face looking up at him, which he hadn't anticipated would be closer towards his. His heart raced in his chest with the way you stared at him, (He should get that checked.)

"H-Huh?"

"Well, I mean... I'm no big artist and you seem to know a lot about all of this. You've written so many songs, so I thought that you wouldn't want anyone lesser than Beyoncé to write for." You shrugged, earning a chuckle from the man.

"Bold of you to assume Beyoncé would even want me." He murmured. You giggled at his reply then crossed your arms.

"People would love to have you! Especially me!" You blurt out of the blue, not realizing how it might have sounded towards the other. A blush creeps on your face at the realization.

"I mean, to have you work with them!" You clarified, but Chris had other plans. His ears turned a shade of red as he awkwardly laughed about the statement. You looked so cute either way his heart was about to explode.

"One day, you'll see me in one of her credits, "The Married Women, Produced and Written by Chan,"..." He said, swiping one of his hands in the air. You laughed at the sheer stupidity of the choke, but somehow, it made the room feel lighter, the uneasiness and awkwardness from earlier had lifted as you shared more about each other, the conversation shifting from Beyoncé to Rock bands to Video Games, and so on, until the clock reflected 2 AM.

Chris was still going strong, just cold water and a can of half a Redbull by his side. Meanwhile you, the ever so talkative from earlier had crashed in the couch with a thin cardigan as cover. Chris had known about the current situation, and had eyed you since earlier about your condition. He wasn't a fool not to notice the baggy eyes and the sluggish speaking when midnight struck. Chris was on the last song, but his mind was on you. For one, he didn't want you to wake up just yet, opting to surprise you with the songs being finished, the other, looking at your sleeping figured somehow made him just as peaceful, knowing how you were getting the rest you needed.

Weird. He had only spent a few hours with you, but he worried like he's known you for a lifetime. He is caught off guard when the studio door creaks open and in came a familiar figure.

"Hyung? You're back here again?" Han groggily asked as he stepped in, yet to notice the sleeping figure on the couch.

Chris turned around fully, putting an index finger on his lips and pointing towards your sleeping figure. Han's eyes went wide at your presence, meaning you had never left as well.

"Did you two just not leave the room?"

"We did. To buy Redbull at the cafeteria."

Han facepalmed at his answer, grabbing a swivel and sitting down next to Chris. This causes you to stir awake. You blink the tiredness away and notice two figures now present at the room, you shift to sit upright and adjust your vision.

"Han? You're back? What time is it anyway?" You asked, rubbing your eyes tiredly and yawning.

"It's already 2 AM. You should head back to your dorm, you have a schedule later." Han points as he turns around to face you.

"Is Chan-ssi done with the songs?" You asked, standing up and wobbling toward the duo.

Han nudges Chris' side and smiled widely, "I'm gonna take over. Hyung will walk back with you." Chris chokes on his Redbull, coughing at the sudden mention of his name.

"M-Me?" He manages to wheeze in between the coughing fit. You look at him and try to offer comfort, but Chris stops you and his small "I'm fine's" was his indication.

"Yes, Binnie-hyung told me to come get you, we can finish the other songs before the next recording, we have 2 songs left, you have the others in the team, we can manage." Han speaks quickly, pushing Chris slightly out of his seat to which the older has no choice but to oblige.

Chris awkwardly chuckles as a blush creeps at the embarrassing moment as he begins to pack up. You smile and nod, fixing up your own stuff. You don't mind spending a few more minutes with Chris anyway.

After cleaning up, Han waves goodbye, not before whispering something towards Chris which earns him a pinch on the arm. The younger screamed in pain and surrender as he pouted towards the older. You giggled at their interaction before saying goodbye and good night to the other before heading out.

The walk to the elevator felt short, and for a while, you wished it had been longer. The elevator dings, the double doors opening as you two step inside and press the ground floor button. You grab your hat and hair tie and slinging your cardigan back on again. Chris only side eyes you and smiles softly to himself, despite the words from Han earlier echoing in his head. It was so stupid but it made his whole body shudder and heat up.

"My dorm is nearby, but I still need to be cautious." You say, wearing your black mask as additional cover.

"The more you wear stuff to cover your face, the more you look small." Chris quips at you, he earns a playful punch on the arm from you.

"That's so mean!"

"What? It's cute!" He blurts out, earning a wide-eyed stare from you this time. Chris registers his words and he looks away quickly, covering his mouth. "I-I mean, you look cute!"

That helped his situation, sure.

You purse your lips, fighting back a giggle as you both grow flustered at each other. Chris leans on the wall with his forehead, murmuring his words as he tries to gain control.

"What I meant to say was—"

"I think you're cute too." You say, not letting him anyway.

If red was a person, right now, it would be Christopher Bang. He stared into space, the words registering in his head, and maybe, just maybe, he didn't mishear. Gibberish was the best Chris could speak right now, and you, well, you might as well jump to whatever floor was available right now to get out of this situation.

The elevator ride took forever, and the silence felt heavy. It didn't seem like it was awkward, but no one was speaking anything, neither one wanted to say anything.

Chris nibbled his lower lip, anxiety creeping in, he wanted to say something, but he also didn't want to say anything. Meanwhile your fingers found each other interesting, it felt as if nothing could possibly make this ride worse. Until you heard a certain someone suck in his breath.

"I think..." He started speaking, "I think you're really cool, Y/N. I didn't want to sound like a creep when you first stepped in the room, but, you're so much fun to be around with." He spoke, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. You noticed his arm flexed at that action, and you suddenly wished you didn't (actually you did want to see it, you just can't focus as much now.)

"I mean, we don't have to do anything just yet, being a friend of yours is already worth it in itself." He smiled, his dimples showing...

Wait, he has dimples?! Why haven't you noticed that?

"Are you cool with that?" He asked, offering a hand towards you.

It's the same way when he offered his hand earlier to shake when you first met, it was more lax though, offering something more casual. You never thought that this was on your bingo card for the year, but here it is.

The worst thing is, you could have said anything better, but instead chose,

"S-Sure!" And you kinda regretted it, wishing you had said more.

Something changed in those months you continued working for the album, your photoshoots were more inspired and your rehearsals were easier. Was it because your "good friend" Chris was there to visit you. His reasons differed from 'talking to you about the outro song' and 'if you wanted to get more Redbull and get Han in on it.'

At that point, your manager didn't even need to question him, all she asked was being cautious about actions. Which wasn't hard, despite butterflies blooming in your stomach more and more, you and Chris had a fantastic dynamic without crossing boundaries. Maybe a bit with all his visits, but even Han joins him so, what's the harm in that?

Two months came by and your album was in its releasing phase, pictures and promotions had been lined up after months of hard work with the writing team, and you know it's still not over. Even with Han working on his next client, he managed to find time to see you, Chris, on the other hand, had never once missed an event, even if it was just through his phone.

You and Chris were practically inseparable by this point, but, something, and you know exactly what that is, lingers in you about the relationship you have with the guy.

Your manager approached you with a polite smile as you're getting cleared for the day after your final filming day. Given that the release is in 3 weeks, you're thankful your manager is able to give you space to yourself before release day and promotions officially begin, which was the most hectic time for you.

Chris, just outside the venue like he always was, had been waiting for you to finish. He basically has a hall pass to enter the shoot, but he doesn't abuse it. At this point, everyone, from your division at least, knows him, even if he was just called, the songwriter from Division C1.

"I'm starting to think you like picking me up from work, Mr. Bang." You tease as his figure approaches you, opting to help carry your stuff as people from the venue begin to head out as well.

"You know me so well, Ms. Jeong." He replies with a smirk. Handing him the bigger and sling the other on your shoulder, you start storytelling about everything that had happened on set, an eager Chris happy to listen to everything, taking little notes in his head for details he'd love to remember.

On a normal drive, he would drop you off in your dorm, with both of you usually cloaked with baggy clothes to become unidentifiable, and on some days, he invites you to his apartment, sometimes with his roommate/s being there, sometimes just the two of you. Today, it was the latter. Having both Han and Changbin gone for the evening freed the both of you, him mostly, from any teasing about whatever was going on between you and Chris.

"Make yourself at home, Y/N-ie." He invites you in, the door swung open as the smell of cinnamon wafted through the air. You're used to smelling this whenever you were around since Chris had learned you loved the scent of cinnamon, you were never sure how he found out, maybe one of your many, many conversations, but you didn't mind, you were hoping that the other boys didn't mind the smell each time.

You flop on the couch, looking around, somehow, the more you visited here, the more the place got radiant. Maybe it was Han's, Changbin's, or Chris' doing in adding more furnishing to make the place more cozy, but it was definitely working.

You noticed on the coffee table Chris' laptop. You don't pay much attention to it, since you don't like snooping that much, but the blinking kind of always attracts you to press, but you resist, especially when Chris comes to the living room with cups of warm tea.

"Thanks. I would say I want iced coffee, but Unnie would throw me to Mars if I broke rest." You said, sighing at the memory the first time you did it. Chris chuckles as he sits next to you, taking a sip of his own.

"Yeah, I get that, we mostly request other artists to do the same thing before recording sessions." He shrugs, "But you know, sometimes it can't be helped."

"Have you gotten any new clients with Division C1?" You ask out of the blue, your hands cupping the mug as you take a long sip, waiting for his answer.

Chris gives a polite smile before setting his drink down. "I guess Hannie didn't tell you, but I asked for a division and department transfer." He said, leaning on the backrest of the couch.

"I thought that C1 would help me grow as a composer, ya know? But uh, turns out the Division head hired me so he can use me as face value since he has consistently had a number of complaints, only reason why he wasn't getting fired was because he had backup in HR." Chris told nonchalantly, for some reason.

You listened, mouth agape, never expecting these things to be happening behind everything, kind of feeling bad about it the more you think about the events.

"So, had a little help from your manager and get hooked with an officer in HR to release the complaints that were "pushed aside" to the Executives." He shrugs, his hands supporting his head,

"You can say I was a lowkey Karen, but if no one was going to tell them, he'd basically run the division scott-free. They're looking for managers within the division to promote as head, but I've made up my mind in transferring to talents."

You look at him confused, "You want to train idols and other upcoming artists?" You asked with an eyebrow raised. His nod was enthusiastic, the smile evident on his lips.

"I've been here for so long, I have professional training in vocals, it'd be nice to help kids know about their talents." He replies. His eyes find yours eventually, a gummier smile forming in his face making you giggle a bit.

"What about your songwriting?" You asked rather genuinely, head tilted in slight confusion.

"You don't have to worry about that, my songwriting is still pretty much active. I'm just waiting for your boss to approve my transfer to Division AE3 and I'm basically all yours!" Maybe you misheard him on the last part, but the thought that you and Chris might actually be working together more often was a daydream come true.

"So what you're saying, Mr. Bang is... you're mine?" You playfully bite back at his teasing, there are moments where statements like these, especially made by THE Christopher Bang himself are intentional, and he knows he's playing with fire once you're in the mood to taunt back.

Even after knowing these things about you, he still feels the heat creeping up from his chest and manifesting in his ears in shades of beet red. You always chuckle at his antics and words since he could never formulate the same amount of teasing back again to create banter.

Nevertheless, it was nice to know that you had someone like Christopher by your side, maybe in times like these you don't need to put such a heavy responsibility on what you two shoulde be. You both know you're practically in love, fanfiction has told you it's a friends to lovers, and maybe, that's just what you need, a nice quiet moment with someone whom you share peace with.

"Hey, Y/N? Can I... show you something?"

Hi! It's Cece! This fic happened because of a weird daydream I had, but I hadn't expected it would be this long! If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

Until the next!

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