#If you had asked us this 2-3 years ago the response would probably have just been like. A png of a gun. Tbh. Something healed

[eltube]

I can't help, but feel apart of Father regrets Delightfulizing the kids- They received a full dose & can't ever fully change back. There's literally no light in their eyes, their movements are robotic, & they act as a hivemind. I think he looks at them & sees his child self, how he'd act around his own father, & he hates it even if he won't admit it.

I agree & I think most people who have become abusers, in brief moments of moral clarity, hate themselves for what they’re doing. I actually think it’s pretty common for abusive parents in particular to know they’ve harmed their children irreparably, but this shame usually just gets directed back outward at the child (i.e. “oh so I guess you hate me and I’m a terrible parent”; “we were doing the best we could”; “I sacrificed everything for you” etc.). Father definitely does hate himself at his core, and one part of me feels really sad about how deep the well of abuse goes when I think about that, and another part of me does the Nelson Simpsons Ha Ha. You know.

Unfortunately (and though it’s unsaid maybe you’re thinking this part too) none of that self-flagellation is a substitute for stopping the abuse. And Father never does! Most importantly, none of that shame or self-hatred is a child’s problem…Father’s pain in particular has been weaponized so much and ruined the lives of so many people. Ironically, people like his brother who could have been part of a better life for him. It can be really dangerous to think, like Father likely does, that you’re the only victim in the world, because you’ll think your pain justifies anything you do to someone else. If you can only see yourself as a victim, you also lose the ability to imagine yourself as a more compassionate person.

In operation POOL the negative version of Father is someone who loves his kids, and I always read that episode as not being about the characters’ “opposites” but about shadow versions of themselves, parts of themselves that scare them. I think Father is afraid of his own capacity for good, because he doesn’t want to admit that he can be anything other than the monster he chooses to be every day. Some of the people who survived him might feel sorry for him and some of them definitely don’t….there’s no right way to feel about it. But being kind was always as much of a choice as being cruel was for him, and we only ever saw him be cruel. Some people choose a grave before they lie in it. SAD!

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (07)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~

Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.

coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything

As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.

“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.

“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”

Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”

“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”

“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”

“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”

“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”

“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”

“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.

“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”

“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”

“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”

Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”

‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.

‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’

Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.

“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”

“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”

A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”

You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”

“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”

Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.

When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”

Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”

“Five!?”

“Yes, five.”

“And, you were still able to sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.

“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.

“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”

“Have you ever hopped on trends?”

“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”

You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.

“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.

“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.

The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.

“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”

“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”

“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”

“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”

“Was he scary?”

“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”

“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”

All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”

An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”

Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”

“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”

“No, get your own.”

“Ah, hyung!”

You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.

“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”

“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”

“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”

Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.

“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”

That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.

Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.

Beauty and the Beasts

mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?

princess: erm… another 15 mins?

princess: …

princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?

All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.

mingoo: coups hyung

vernonnie: cheol hyung

nonu: seungcheol

cheol: i did

cheol: i got you your coffee order btw

mingoo: what about us?

cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library

mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too

cheol: yes

cheol: and they’re only for ___

cheol: so don’t try to steal them

Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”

Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”

“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”

“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”

“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”

Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.

“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”

“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”

“He probably has it written down somewhere?”

“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.

He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.

“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”

As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.

___: hey woo?

___: is it ok if i call you that-

wonwoo: yes?

wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine

___: ok

___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!

___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work

___: n since you’re a psych major

wonwoo: you need my help, yes?

___: bingo

___: is it possible for you to help me?

wonwoo: sure thing

wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?

wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day

___: don’t the others have class?

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.

wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc

wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour

___: oh, cool!

___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion

“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.

“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”

“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”

“Should we play cupid?”

“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”

Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”

Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”

“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”

“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”

Later that night…

gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896

[garpond]

happy birthday to neil young here are some of my favorite things about him

-by the age of 20 he had owned 3 different used hearses, all of which experienced some form of extreme mechanical failure that caused him to have to get rid of them

-in buffalo springfield whenever he had to go out on a date with a girl he'd tell his friends about it beforehand so that they could interrupt the date to tell him he needed to be somewhere and was late so that he could be allowed to leave

-hated going in grocery stores because he would get overstimulated and have to leave

-didn't like how the first pressing of Comes A Time sounded so he bought 200,000 of the first copies of it and used them as shingles for a barn roof

-when one of his tour buses was destroyed (i forget how) he had it brought to his ranch and buried on the property like a beloved family pet

-his early ambition before music was to be a chicken farmer

-when he and carrie snodgress where dating she'd have a ton of people over sometimes and it gave him anxiety so one evening he decided to open the living room window and crawl out of it to get away from people instead of walking through the room to get to the door because apparently he couldn't wait that long and everyone saw it

-another time he randomly showed up at a neighbors' house and they didn't really know why he dropped in all of the sudden because he wasn't very social and it turns out it was because his manager had set up a meeting for him with the band America and he didn't want to do it so he was hiding

-during buffalo springfield he would hide in peoples closets a lot

-once he was guitar shopping with stephen stills and when he was offering on a guitar stephen offered more money on it to try and get it and it pissed him off so he started bidding higher to kick off a bidding war between then and once it was up to a ridiculous amount of money he just dropped it and was like ok you win lol ! and stephen had to pay an insane amount of money for it

-during one filmed interview with MTV or something he decided to fuck with them by adjusting the position of his hat super slightly every couple seconds so that when they cut the footage together and shifted things out of order it would look confusingly different every time

-during the recording of deja vu he lived by himself in a motel but he brought his 2 pet bush babies (named Harriet and Speedy) and they scared the shit out of Graham Nash

-gave a stranger he met like a week ago unrestricted access to his finances because the guy claimed he was going to help him buy a boat and the guy ended up stealing a couple thousand dollars

-during last buffalo springfield concert he was the only person who was not even remotely sad and on the way home jim messina was literally crying and neil was just like :] the whole way

-one year on his birthday at the ranch there was going to be a party and it was a tradition to have a bonfire at it so he went out into the woods to get sticks for it but somehow managed to grab a bunch of poison oak and it was used at the fire and after that he was not allowed to gather bonfire sticks anymore

-while filming the lincvolt documentary he met a trans woman and when he was interviewing her to ask for her opinion about the car she told him that what he was doing with it was a big change and he should probably ask for the car's permission to do it and he actually did do this later

-"everybodys rockin" originated as an r/maliciouscompliance type of project because while he was on geffen records Old Ways was rejected and the label asked for a "rock and roll album" and this was his response to that

-the infamous Eat A Peach incident

-there is much more but this is all i can come up with rn

[ddejavvu]

hiii, hope you’re having a good day! Could you do a request with animagus reader and marauders just being out and r is in Sirius’ bag or smth and a dog spooks her and she ends up running away panicked and they just start to run after her. tysm!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11

--

"Let me make absolutely sure that I am understanding you boys correctly." The stern tone of Professor Mcgonagall's voice never fails to chill the blood of those who hear it, but James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin are quite accustomed to the chill by now.

"You tore through the school's vegetable garden," She begins, "Then you trampled the roses. Then you tracked mud from those trampled roses through the Great Hall, interrupting a session of O.W.L.s that non-participating students were given plenty of warning not to disturb."

"Professor-" James starts, but Minerva snaps her gaze sternly to him.

"I am not finished, Mr. Potter, and you will not speak until I am."

He has the good sense to nod instead of giving a verbal response.

"Then. You went on a mad goose chase around the castle, that included not only breaking into faculty-only spaces, destroying art hung on these walls longer ago than you've been alive, but jumping from moving staircase to moving staircase?"

"I didn't mean to smash through that painting," Sirius offers earnestly, but when she whirls towards him, he's almost worried she'll strike him.

He knows she won't; she's like the mother he's never had, not the one that he does have.

"Fine! Fine, since you seem so eager to speak, tell me now: Why? Why was any of this necessary? Why did the three of you suddenly lose all sense?"

Sirius is rather surprised she hasn't yet noticed the lump beneath his sweater, but he's more than happy to tug at the neckline of the knitwear, "I was running after my cat, professor."

You know you'll be the only one to save them now, and you try appearing as endearing as possible as you stick your head out from Sirius's sweater, your furry ears brushing at his chin as you mewl plaintively at Professor Mcgonagall.

She blinks.

It's all she can do, because the boys in front of her are a permanent headache, and she asks, voice dangerously calm, "Why was your cat running, Mister Black?"

"She had a run-in with a wild dog," Remus explains, because if Sirius was left up to the task, he'd probably use adjectives like 'misunderstood' and 'unwillingly aggressive'. "She was tucked into Sirius's bag while we took a walk over the grounds. She likes to get out, but Sirius keeps her in his bag to be sure she's safe. But the dog must have smelled her, and he came out of the forest to charge for her. She startled and ran, and I can't say I blame her, Professor. Sirius was just worried for her, that's all. We would have really liked to avoid the chase as well."

A tense silence falls, and four pairs of eyes watch as Minerva Mcgonagall pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighs. She neglects to tell Remus that it doesn't matter whether he'd have liked to avoid the chase or not; there's a hundred fifteen-year-olds mourning the loss of their exam time.

When it's unclear what her position is on your morning escapade, you slip out of the bottom of Sirius's sweater, and pad over to sit at her feet. Sirius draws in a breath, keeps it locked tightly in his lungs as you meow up at her, and when you have her attention, your tail flicks idly behind you.

"I don't like dogs either," She laments in a voice far too exhausted for ten in the morning, "Mister Black, if you or your friends ever treat this castle like a jungle gym again, I will make you scrub out the cracks in the stone dungeon walls with a toothbrush."

He tries not to grin, because his luck is far too strained, but he nods eagerly, "Yes ma'am. Thank you, Professor."

"Do not thank me," She glares warningly at him, "I am still tempted to feed you to wild dogs."

The boys stand, nodding at their professor as they file out of her office, but when Sirius calls you with open arms, she peers over her nose at him.

"Leave the cat," She instructs, and at his curious head tilt, she adds, "I had to listen to Mr. Filch tell me all about your antics this morning. At the moment I deserve better company."

[megamett44-lover]

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: It’s been two years and Y/N is greeted by a ghost of the past.

Warnings/Notes: Use of Y/N, mild cussing

Requested? No!

(Music rec for this story is ‘Coffee’ by Chappell Roan)

part 1

Coffee (Part 2 of ‘Know It’s For The Better)

Los Angeles. The place I was determined to leave behind had now become my home. After scoring a job as a writer on a Netflix series, I had to relocate from Boston back to the place I swore I would never return to again.

“Order for Y/N?” The barista calls as I make my way up to the counter to retrieve my coffee.

“Thank you.” I smile, accepting my flat white and returning to my computer in the corner.

I sigh, looking at the blank screen in front of me. I was stumped; I had to write a rough script by 9:00 am tomorrow, or I could kiss my dream job goodbye. How was I supposed to write a long lost love reunion when I was clearly lacking in the romance department in my daily life?

As if the false God themself heard my thoughts, a voice pulled my attention away from the dauntingly blank screen. “Y/N?”

I look up to see none other than the man I left a mere two years ago, Matt Sturniolo.

I feel my face lose its color as I stare back at the man I once loved. ‘Damn you, universe’

“Matt,” I say, my voice catching slightly. “hi.”

“Hi.” He returns my awkward smile. “Mind if I sit?”

I merely nod at the chair as I study his features. Tattoos now sprawl out sparingly across his left arm, his stubble growing in slightly. His hair longer than usual, as his blue eyes seem a bit more dull than I once remembered.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He finally speaks, breaking me from my trance.

“Oh…um, yeah.” I say, motioning towards my computer. “Duty calls.”

“I understand that.” He says, offering me a genuine smile. “How’ve you been?”

I pause. Should I tell him the truth? About how much I had missed him, longed for his touch? Reminisced about our time shared together?

“I’ve been okay.” I say. “And you?”

Matt thinks for a moment. “I’ve been good.”

I force a smile. “Always great to hear.”

“So, a big shot Netflix writer, huh?” Matt questions. “I always knew you were destined for great things.”

“Wait, you knew about that?” I ask.

Matt smiles, and I see the boy I had fell in love with; my Matty. “Of course I did.” He says. “I told you I’d wait forever.”

I shake my head. “Matt-” He cuts me off.

“I know, I know.” He dismisses me. “That’s not a conversation for now. What do you have going on later? Chris and Nick would love to see you.”

I glance back at my blank screen. Should I agree to this? To put myself back in reaching distance of the man who had never put me before anything? “Well, truthfully, nothing.” I say, closing my laptop to rid myself of the teasing blank screen.

“Oh, cool!” Matt says, seeming surprised at my response. “Here, I’ll text you our address. Same number, right?”

I was surprised he still had my number. “Um, yeah.” I smile.

Matt quickly typed on his phone as my phone dings to signal a text.

“Just swing by whenever.” Matt says. “Nick and Chris are gonna lose their shit.”

I laugh. “I bet so.”

“Speaking of,” Matt says, standing. “I’d better get back with their muffins or they’ll probably kill me.”

I let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, probably.”

“Oh and Y/N?” Matt says.

“Hm?”

“It was really good seeing you again.” Matt smiles before walking away.

Part 3…?

[deltaromeo3]

ɴᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ — Daniel Ricciardo

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x childhood bestfriend!Reader

summary: Finally returning home after a few years, she reunites with her long time bestfriend; the all too famous Formula 1 driver, Daniel Ricciardo. Will things rehash between them or will it take a turn for the worst?

previous chapters here: #2 | #3

Perth, Australia. It’s where you called home ever since you were 7. It’s been years since you’ve been back home but today you had a reason for your arrival; it was your mother’s birthday and she was turning fifty.

Usually, you would skip coming home at all costs. But this time, your mother begged you to come because apparently turning the big five and having you around to celebrate was a huge deal for her. Which was weird because all these while she was usually fine with not having you around and wine with a birthday card seemed to do the trick.

But somehow with enough convincing, you eventually gave in because she said that your sister would be there too, and you used that as a good enough reason to come back.

You avoided home like the plague, always telling your mother you were extremely busy, getting caught up in work and other stuff so you couldn’t afford to take a break and fly home.

But was that really the reason for your absence?

And now, here you were, a day early, standing outside the house you grew up in. Memories came flooding back but you were quickly snapped back to reality when your dad came out to help you with your luggage.

“You alright there darling?” He asked, a look of concern obvious on his face.

You smile and nod, “Yeah, I'm good.”

He just smiled in response and the both of you walked towards the door. As soon as you entered the house you were greeted by your sister hugging you so tightly you thought you were gonna pass out.

You laughed and hugged her back with as much force. Once you let go, you walked over to the kitchen.

“Ugh I feel like it’s been years since I last saw you.” She says, leaning on the entrance of the kitchen.

“That’s because it has been years.” You say as you poured yourself a cup of water.

“What? It can’t be that long ago, right?” Denial present in her voice.

You closed the fridge door. “Yeah it has,” You sipped on your drink. “I was here when Ella got married, remember? Her kid is three now. Three.” You held three fingers up close to your sister's face, annoying her as a result.

“Three huh? Just like his-’’

Before she could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by your mother coming down the stairs.

“What’s all the noise about? Has the prodigal daughter returned home?”

You quickly glanced over to your sister, giving her the “oh god i’m not ready for this” look but all she does is flash you a tight-lipped smile.

Your mother walks over to you with open arms, hugging you. She lets go of the hug, holding your sides to take a good look at you but it felt like she was examining you instead…

“Are you sleeping well? You’ve got bags under your eyes.”

There it is.

She points at them but you just smile through it.

You glanced over to your sister as if you knew what was gonna happen.

“It’s nice to see you too Ma,” You reply, unamused.

“I’m just saying you look tired is all.”

You sighed, opening your mouth to respond but was interrupted by your sister chiming in. “It’s probably the jet lag, you know how it is.”

She understood that it was too soon for you to receive criticism from your own mother. You literally just arrived.

Your sister leaves the kitchen, making pointless conversation with your mother to distract her as they walked towards the living room.

You turned to the sink, washing the cup trying to distract yourself.

“Don’t think so much about it, you know how she is.” Your dad reassures you.

“I know I know…” You sigh.

“I’m just glad you’re home, we missed you tons. Especially your mother.”

“It’s kinda hard to believe that. All she ever does when we meet is criticize me or my looks.”

Your dad chuckles. He ruffles your hair and leaves. Before he walks away he says, “I now know why you were so eager to leave.”

You chuckled at the statement.

-

After having dinner, everyone was seated in the living room, watching TV together. You stared blankly at the sixty inch screen, some movie on Netflix playing.

You groan out of boredom.

You stood up, deciding that taking a walk was better than sitting around watching some lame movie.

You grab your jacket along the way out.

“Where ya off to?” Your mom asks.

“Gonna take a walk, haven’t been home in a while.”

She hums in response and you exit the house, closing the door behind you.

You decided that the corner shop was the place you wanted to go. You immediately walked towards the all too familiar path, leading you past a few houses before eventually arriving to the store. Once you arrive, it brought you back to the times where you, Ella and a few other of your friends used to hang out together after school… One person in particular you could not forget.

You smiled to yourself when you reminisced about the good old times but was quickly returned back to the present when you heard someone call out your name.

-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that :)) This is my first time writing so do leave me feedback (good OR bad) so I know how I can improve for the next upcoming parts!!

[athene-owl]

Dream Video Bullshit

I decided against my better judgement to watch Dream's latest video. Here are the main things I wanted to say - if I don't mention something it's probably because I actually agree with what Dream said or don't know/care. A lot of this is rambling and venting because I'm annoyed and refuse to give him/his fans anymore of my energy or time to polish up this post.

1:16 - Dream says his accusers will make it harder for 'real victims in the future' to be believed and I just need to say that this felt like a really brash and entitled thing to start the video up with. Now you wanna care about victims Dream? After what happened last year? We'll get to that.

3:40 - This is a very small thing but Dream says here that in one video while he was playing Minecraft muted, he was being 'interviewed' by a SWAT Team member next to him in the room and I just can't help but question the validity of this because how did this happen? You were swatted and had someone in the room with you asking questions and you divided your attention between that and still playing Minecraft? You didn't just stop playing to focus on the SWAT Team? This barely matters but it fascinates me.

5:09 - Dream really goes out of his way here to point out that his speedrun cheating was discovered by a cheater and plays a clip showing how illegitimate this guy's speedruns were. This absolutely feels like him shifting blame and trying to paint this rando as a bad person to somehow excuse his own cheating which he says was unintentional. At 5:30 he says him and a developer had ruled out him using a mod - how did they determine this when he WAS proven to have used a mod and insisted he didn't realize? He doesn't elaborate.

6:30 - Here Dream acknowledges his behavior towards the speedrunning mods was bad and takes responsibility for it which is good but does not erase all the drama and bullshit he caused. When that whole thing went down, his stans passionately took his side but now that he's admitted to acting wrong they are fawning over his maturity - you guys sure didn't have a problem with it back then. At 6:40 he makes the point that the speedrun was 3 years ago and a lot has changed and I just don't see that change when he's still causing dumbass drama every week. Good on him for taking his videos down and apologizing to the mods but, again, his stans were all enthusiastically on his side then so I don't want to hear them now praising him for doing the right thing when clearly his behavior wasn't enough to turn them away from him 3 years ago. This is a trend with Dream's stans.

10:02 - Here Dream admits he was wrong to immediately and publicly disregard the info dug up about his domestic abuser friend which OK, good to admit, but 2 things - 1. Why, only a year ago, were you so quick and eager to disregard reports of abuse and 2. How did the fandom react to this. Again, if people took his side and disbelieved the victim, they can't now be so proud of him for admitting he was wrong. This does NOT instill confidence in me that him and his community would take later allegations against Dream seriously. Hot take, but I really think his initial response was despicable, irresponsible and I just feel sorry for the guy's victim in all of this. At 11:48 he pats himself on the back for how he handled the situation (besides initially brushing off the evidence) and ends with "I made it clear I didn't support domestic violence even at the detriment of one of my oldest friendships" and I'm sorry but given how Dream conducts himself, that feels like a manipulative little ploy to look good and garner pity for doing the bare minimum. Again, how many of his stans leapt at the chance to brush aside abuse reports and documented evidence and what did he do?

EDIT: Previously I thought the info on the friend was revealed by the victim herself speaking up but I was corrected on this and now know it was the friend's info being leaked and people snooping. Check my reblog for more info.

15:00 - He defends his Snapchat use with the fact that he promotes content on there but the photos consist of him doing random shit in his day-to-day life so I fail to see how that promotes his content rather than feeding his fans' parasocial relationship with him lol. At 15:20 he admits he isn't the one liking weird fanart on his account and 1. He's just admit he's been lying about running his own account for years and 2. Did he ever speak against the weird sexualisation in his community? Why did he allow his friend to keep liking weird shit, only messaging her to unlike it after the fact rather than laying the rules out? Idk this is just weird man. At 15:23 he shows a tweet by a defender of his stating that clearly he runs his account because if he had someone else running it, there would be a disclaimer. His fans gave him the benefit of the doubt and chastised others for not doing the same only to be proven wrong themselves lmao

17:08 - Dream claims he 'doesn't take himself too seriously' and I do not fucking believe that. This man has the ego of a planet and is lashing out at others every fucking week over it. Be fucking for real.

20:10 - Here Dream admits that him calling his fanbase 'kittens' was weird and he regrets it but also insists the whole 'Discord kitten' meme wasn't big back then and, this is purely anecdotal, but I absolutely think it was. Anyway, again, I wonder how many of his fans defended this back in the day and how many of those same people will now agree with Dream it was embarrassing and weird solely because HE now says it is and not because they can critically look at his behavior themselves. I'm skeptical of him insisting it wasn't meant in a weird way and he randomly chose the term 'kitten' because everyone back then instantly connected it to the Discord kitten thing but ok.

21:29 - Dream discusses the whole 'selling baby photos of himself' thing which I had never heard about before and am a bit gagged by. Anyway, here he specifically points out that celebrities have sold their baby photos before as if that helps his case at all, he explains the hard drive wristband thing was the product BUT it is still insanely weird and egotistical to me to include baby photos on that drive. He compares this to a biography but, again, this does not help the parasocial allegations because what the fuck has he done in his life to warrant a biography and what sort of audience needs this? I know this might be sacrilege to say but uhh this was objectively weird of him to do and he cannot sway my mind on that. Also for someone who doesn't take himself seriously, he sure was happy to quote himself on the hard drive???

36:09 - Finally into the more serious shit. Here, Dream points out the fact that Amanda was defending him when the whole face reveal happened 10 days before her allegations came out + liking his tweets 2 days before the allegations. I just wanna say this really means little, victims can be in denial or have complicated feelings. Also, at 36:18 he then says that she made her accusations because of the hate train following the face reveal and she wanted to get in on it even though he just said she was supportive of him and defending him? He's spinning this both ways - saying she was supportive to discredit her claim and then saying she suddenly hated him to also discredit her claim.

38:05 - He gets his mum involved to prove a point and I cannot emphasize enough how meaningless this is, even if its the truth you expect me to think your mother is unbiased and wouldn't lie to cover your ass?

40:06 - Bold of Dream to criticize Amanda for not treating the situation seriously when Dream stans are running around calling this shit a 'drontroversy'. At 44:20 he even says this isn't online drama. He also uses the image below as proof of her wanting him or whatever which 1. Doesn't matter when discussing underage exploitation because her behavior would never warrant her being taken advantage of and 2. Also shows him making weird sexual comments which he vehemently denied doing earlier.

42:12 - Dream asks how, if Amanda is dishonest about some things, how can anything she says be trusted? Why can't that same logic be applied to Dream for things he has no actual evidence for? He makes this argument again at 43:20 - if she's lying about the photo, how do you know she's not lying about everything else? Not a great argument from Dream of all people.

44:00 - AGAIN this man relies on victim-blaming rhetoric to make his point - "Go to the police. Or sue me. The standard of proof for you suing me is only proving that it's more likely than not that you're telling the truth. 51%. Come take my money." The insinuation that it's easy or simple for women to take men to court and sue them for sexual crimes is laughable and shows a real arrogance and ignorance to Dream. Again, regardless of how true the allegations were, women have gone to court with every type of evidence under the sun and still got nothing so what makes Dream assume this is an easy process? Do victims need to sue their abusers to be telling the truth? With all of his money and privilege, would Dream not be at a huge advantage in court? Weak argument that really feels disrespectful. At 44:15 he makes a little remark about how in court, her 'weird comments' and 'character' would have to be questioned and answered for. Despite the fact that any comments she made as a minor would be irrelevant in this case, despite the fact that someone's 'character' doesn't automatically determine whether they're a victim or not, this is also a funny comment because he's right - yeah, in court the female accuser would be picked apart and judged for shit that doesn't matter. Good thinking there Dream, really making your case!

44:25 - Here he gives a little lecture to Amanda about her hurting 'real victims' and again, as a reminder, this man publicly disregarded those concerned about intricate reports of abuse, has watched as his fans doxed and abused countless people and yet positions himself as an authority on deciding who is a real victims and who isn't. What also makes shit hard for victims is highly popular men like him convincing people to instantly disbelieve women, send them endless hate and make ignorant comments about how victims act. I don't want to hear any moral lecturing from Dream of all people about others 'hurting real victims'. Argue with the wall.

He then has a whole section on Nick Cantu and let me make this clear - Nick being a violent asshole has nothing to do with Dream's behavior or the allegations so I don't care and I do in fact think he focused on it to make himself look better.

57:50 - Dream wants to talk about the dangers of swatting and doxxing. You know, his own stans have doxxed people and once endangered a black person by sending police to their house for a welfare check in an area where welfare checks had resulted in black people being murdered by cops. He says that he always condemned this behavior but shows no proof of this. What actions did he directly take to discourage and stop this and help the people his own supporters had hurt? If anyone has receipts on anything he's done to help, feel free to show me because he provides no evidence of doing anything and I am really not amused by him skirting around his own community's doxxing of people.

1:00:20 - So here he plays the infamous moaning video in it's entirety but has it muted? I get it's gross but when the audio is the whole point, it seems so useless to play it muted. Just a weird choice but it is easy to find elsewhere.

1:09:28 - Makes another statement here that if something is disproven in court then that means it didn't happen which is blatantly untrue, esp when we're talking about sexual crimes. Very ignorant thing to say and really annoys me with how much he's positioning himself as a champion for victims.

After this Dream does a lot more talking about how people treat victims and it's mostly good stuff but AGAIN this is coming from the guy whose fans have doxxed countless people and who instantly mocked people for caring about serious abuse reports. He never makes this parallel, he never points out that he has undoubtedly done more harm to victims with his bullshit, he just puts himself on a moral high ground and its really obnoxious. I cannot emphasize enough how fucking annoying and self congratulatory this man is holy fuck.

EDIT: Initially I had a point here about how little Dream went into the 24 page document released compiling evidence against him, but I was informed this came out right before the video's release, a day before or on the same day it appears. I thought incorrectly it had come out earlier, I will say I still believe he needs to address this in the future, check my reblog for more details.

1:17:00 - This is a doozy and will be my closing point. Dream spends a bit talking about 'false allegations' and calls it a popular trend, happening to hundreds of online creators. IRL, false allegations for rape are severely exaggerated and, if anything, rape is horribly under reported. Women are significantly more likely to be raped then men are to be 'falsely accused' and, when you factor in how horrible the justice system is towards victims, rape culture, how difficult it can be to prove something like rape and how low the rates of successful convictions are, the truth is that a lot of 'disproven' cases are true and were just brushed aside. Furthermore, all crimes have 'false allegations' yet the only one to ever be discussed is rape because it's an easy out. I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that rape has comparatively low rates of 'false allegations' compared to other crimes but idk. I know the internet is different, I know people make up lies all the time but I am NOT fucking keen on how much Dream emphasizes false allegations as a common thing when IRL they are not. I am NOT looking forward to every content creator from now on claiming its just 'false accusations' and people falling for it because their favourite Minecraft YouTube insisted it was an epidemic. I am NOT keen for discussions of victims and rape culture to be dominated by this shit and for victims to continue to be silenced and disbelieved. I think you have to be very, very fucking careful when talking about 'false allegations' and I do not think Dream of all people is remotely capable of giving this the nuance it needs. This is gonna be so fucking unbearable in the future to deal with and every single fandom will latch onto this to brush off potential red flags, I guarantee.

[whumped-by-glitter]

Chapter 1, Part 5: "You Passed"

⚠️ CW: Institutionalized Slavery, Dehumanization, Food Whump, Poisons, Starvation, Degrading Self-Talk, ANGST..... Please let me know if I missed anything.

As always, thank you @3-2-whump for beta reading. You're the real MVP for sifting through all of my run-ons and the endless back and forth of ideas... Thanks for the feedback and ideas to @aloafofbreadwithanxiety and @generic-whumperz as well!

Story Under The Cut

Masterlist

⏮️ Previous

The Mutt stayed back a moment, still savoring those two small words. Once he evened himself, he too walked out of the room. He had an hour with no specific orders. The dog already knew what he was going to do with it.

He snuck past the living area, making sure not to be seen by Balor. This wasn’t too much of a task though, Balor was dense, and Dog was quiet.

He had plenty of practice from that time his master accidentally left him on orders of complete silence for almost a year. For almost a year, any time he so much as stepped too hard the bands would tear into him. Ever since then he’s been hyper aware of every sound he made.

Easy as sugar tree bake, he was past. He first went to the kitchens and grabbed mostly fruits and raw vegetables. Those would probably go unnoticed and be the easiest to explain if they didn’t.

Dog didn’t even need to look for Boy. The boy was in the back kitchen washing dishes. The gut-wrenching realization hit him, as a flash of anger had to be tamped down. They put the starved child to work in the kitchen.

The mongrel took hold of Boy’s wrist and led him downstairs, down the marble staircase to the wine cellar.

“Eat,” he urged, shoving the food at him.

“But won’t we………”

Dog cut Boy off, “I’ll take full responsibility, just eat, please.”

“T-thank you.” Boy slid down the wall, too exhausted to argue and scarfed down the meager meal. “You’re not going to have lunch?”

Dog’s stomach churned, food would probably help the poisons, but his master hadn’t said he could. “No, Master needs me back in an hour, I don’t want to feel weighted down,” he replied smoothly.

Boy nibbled at a carrot as the dog felt him analyzing him, “What is it he is always pulling you away for anyway? You have been holed up in that room for hours this morning.”

“You know better than to ask,” the Mutt replied. He changed the subject quickly, “You should come up with a hair style this evening, you could use a haircut.” The others didn’t need to know about the poisons, he especially wanted to protect Boy from the truth. A truth Boy himself narrowly missed. He pushed down the bitter memories of his 10-year-old self with the 3-year-old version of the kid in front of him.

Boy paused for a moment then agreed, “It is getting long, isn’t it?” He played a bit with the short braid the dog hastily put it up in this morning.

Dog nodded, “Mmmhmm, I’ll ask master for some scissors and a razor later. Now eat, and seriously, don’t worry about the consequences, I’ve got it covered.”

“I’m eating, I’m eating,” the boy chuckled a bit.

The sound filled the dog’s chest with warmth. He didn’t fully understand it, but it felt nice. He wanted to always protect that warm sound, since the first day he heard it all those years ago. Dog patted his cheek a bit before putting his mask of void back on to go back upstairs. He wouldn’t want to mess up and act like something other than a tool in front of his master. The thought came forward somewhat more resentful than expected.

The dog reentered the familiar room and was instantly hit with the smell of food. His stomach growled loudly, but he pushed the hunger pain away and sat in his usual seat. His posture was rigid as he slowed his breathing to prevent extra movement, he rested his arms on the metal plates, ready to be restrained, should his master desire it.

He kept his gaze on the floor, analyzing the familiar tiles in front of him. The faded blue green stone caught the afternoon light from the window, making them glimmer a bit. When he looked carefully, he could occasionally see the small fossils of snails and tiny crustaceans long dead. He vaguely wondered, as always, what their life may have been like before they became trapped in stone. ‘Was it happier life than my own?’

The door opened loudly, startling him. The sound snapped the dog’s attention back to the present. His master strode in, placing a table in front of him once again. He inwardly flinched; this meant more poison. ‘Probably’ he thought glumly, answering his own question about the snail.

His master sat a tiny portion of food in front of him. “Eat it.” He said simply.

The mutt complied, slowly, thoughtfully holding it in his mouth. He knew better than to wolf the food down by now, no matter how hungry he might be. A flavor arose from the bit of casserole, a flavor that did not quite belong, proving his instincts correct. It was slightly bitter, maybe a little sour? That could be the cream though. It was barely there against the other flavors of the casserole. There was also a slight musty taste to it, that was the giveaway.

“Lim,” he said measuredly, keeping his tone neutral. Lim was a root, similar to a potato, which made it easy to hide in a dish such as this. “Lim is a slow acting poison. It has to be fed to the victim over days or weeks. By the time it’s noticed there is no way to treat it.”

This went on dish after dish. Some were mixed with several poisons in one dish. The end was in sight when another potato dish was sat in front of him. He tested, he instantly found the Lim, but he continued to hold it in his mouth, careful not to assume that’s the only poison in it. Soon his tongue started going numb, there was another poison.

“Lim and Caecus,” he announced, voice shaking slightly. Poison resistance did not mean he had complete immunity; he was fast reaching his limit.

His mast still said nothing. Nothing…. He deeply wanted was praise…. The poisons hurt, he felt like he swallowed knives and needles…. Yet another dish was sat in front of him, a dessert. Finally, it was almost over….

He bit into sample of cherry bar. It was tart, as expected with cherry, but there was a sourer tone to it. There was an exceptionally sour smell emanating from it as well. “Balla wood berry.”

His master added the dish to the stack on the tray and walked out without saying a word. The dog choked back the sick feeling building inside of him. He knew this was the only food he was going to get today and was desperately trying to keep it down. His master also usually punished him for getting sick after taking poisons, he wanted so bad to be good. He badly wanted his master’s approval; it would make the sick feeling much better.

Finally, his master came back in. The dog clinched his jaw with nerves, barely containing a flinch as he listened to his master’s footsteps cross the room to him. He found himself holding his breath as he walked in the front of him.

“Mutt…” his master passed, as if looking for the words, “You passed. You have correctly identified all of the poisons, even under stress.”

His master sounded pleased, his master has never sounded so pleased… the dog’s eyes began to water involuntarily, getting touched with the ring was just part of the test. He wasn’t bad after all!

“Good boy, I’m proud of you.” His master patted his cheek with a gloved hand, “as a reward I’ll let you go back to your quarters early.”

The mutt began to tear up, he’d never in his life had ever been told someone was proud of him, let alone his master. This was well beyond the praise he had hoped for. He completely forgot about being sick. The emotions welled up inside of him, threatening to overflow. He decided he would ask for the hair cutting supplies later and stood, immediately dropped to his knees in a reverent bow.

“T-thank you Master,” he replied, pushing his voice to be as flat as possible.

His master did not respond, instead the Tallisian turned and walked out of the room, leaving the Mutt alone.

When his master was out of ear shot, he let himself overflow. “This slave, this mutt, he was good!!!!” he yelled as loud as his ruined throat let him. “He made Master PROUD!! PROUD, Master was PROUD!” he sobbed, it was so surreal to hear those words. He just sat on the floor sobbing. Something strange happened, his lips stretched, his face felt weird…. Was this what a smile felt like? He sat on the floor of his master’s office, grinning and sobbing like a fool. He didn’t usually talk in the third person when he was alone, but it just felt right. He was finally a useful tool. He had made his master PROUD.

Next 🔜

Masterlist

@whumpsandbumps, @whumperofworlds, @skittles-the-whumpee, @wounds-seen-and-unseen, @emptycalories-splitlip

@pigeonwhumps, @i-eat-worlds, @starfields08000, @onlywhump, @snakebites-and-ink

@turvuren, @whumps-and-bumps, @paingoes, @spectral-whumpy-writer, @vampiresprite

@whumping-in-the-dark

As usual, just let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 3.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: Unresolved sexual tension, apologies to anyone named Chet, contagious giggles, gratuitous use of the word cunt, an unspecified age difference, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author’s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Story Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[WARNING- This is Part 3! part 2 was just posted a day before this. DON’T SKIP PART 2]

‘Noona, can I stay?’

Of course you wanted to tell him yes. Of course you had grown attached to him in ways you could never tell him. But how much power did this man really think you had in this company? Between the two of you, he had so much more influence here; heaps more than you had.

“Baekhyun, that is not a decision for me to make. You are a great assistant, but you are a more important person than just my assistant.” You made your best attempt at it. The sooner he understood the magnitude of his potential the sooner he would let go of this fixation on staying in this department as your assistant and the better off he would be. If for the sake of his future in this company, he should probably move on. Although, you also realized that part of what made you so damn good at your job was the years of experience you had with it.

“And…if the decision was yours?” His eyebrows were lifted and his expression challenged, as if he asked some mysterious, unsaid veiled question instead of this very obvious ‘Can't I just stay as your assistant’ question he was actually asking. You wondered what had made him so determined to get a response from you.

“I think with a couple of years here with me, you would get too good and surpass me.” You pursed your lips in contemplation. You saw his incredible potential the minute he walked through that door on the first day.

“And then I would have to kill you.” You said it with a straight face and it took him only a minute before his eyebrows dropped and he let out a half exhaled breath mixed with a loud laugh.

He’d spun on his heels and taken a step back from you, before turning back to look at your face again, his wide grin quite evident on his face. “This is the first time I’ve heard you make a joke.”

“What makes you think I am joking?” You deadpanned, no longer even looking at the man and he laughed out loud again.

“Oh my god,” he said out loud to himself. “I think this might be a new step in our relationship.”

“I beg your forgiveness, you kick me in the chest. I ask you to hold on to me and you threaten me with death.” He was talking only for himself now. Amusing himself with his little jokes like he often did. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of into it. I guess that ‘What Rihanna Song Are You’ quiz was right. Chains and whips do excite me.”

“Are you done?” You interrupted, actually unable to take any more after your started leafing through the pages and pages of work you had accumulated on your desk.

The more you looked the less you wanted of all of it. You began handling everything with rougher hands and eventually resorted to angrily tossing things into a miscellaneous pile you had just created that made no logical sense. If these things annoyed you the most, they landed in that pile. After a while, after every other toss a swift hand would come into your field of vision and pull something out of the pile.

You didn’t know where it went, but the pile was shrinking and your mood was feeling lighter because of it.

The only pile left after Baekhyun’s mystical sorting just needed signatures. You could do that and walk at the same time if you had someone watching for obstacles in your path.

“I have a meeting with Choi’s First AE in ten minutes and I needed all these signed like yesterday. Let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Now, Baekhyun. Sign and walk and don't let me fall into an open manhole cover.”

He did pretty good with it. “Step up,” He called out beside you and you stepped up when he told you, finding the perfect rhythm and finding the step he warned you about. “Four steps, then turn right,” he said again while also grabbing the folders and flipping to the signature pages that he had already pre-marked with brightly colored sticky tabs last week when he was desperately trying to get you to sign them. Apparently he had been getting emails about them. They were overdue. There might have been phone calls too. Not dangerously late, but you did feel guilty for the delay. Why didn’t you think of this before? You’d probably wasted hours of your life just walking. Those walking hours could have been used for signing. You were pretty sure you were a genius.

That was until your forward progress was abruptly and jarringly halted by a firm arm wrapped around your waist and you were pulled back violently. A loud sound like a beast’s roar echoed against your eardrums and you gasped out loud. Your stomach leapt up into your throat as a panic rose up inside of you from the shock of it.

You’d just stepped off a curb. He’d warned you about the step down, that wasn’t the unexpected part. The danger came too suddenly for either of you to prepare for right after that. You smelled the exhaust of a retreating motorcycle. You could see the crazy driver speeding off in your peripheral vision. You felt the trembling and the shaking inside of your chest as you tried desperately to breathe though the tightness of the arm squeezing around your waist, pulling you back to safety.

“Shit,” Baekhyun swore out loud sometime during the commotion and you’d cried out the same.

It took a few moments of steadying yourself. When your mind sharpened to what happened you found yourself having stumbled back two or three steps with Baekhyun’s arm still wrapped around your waist, the firmness of his forearm digging into the softness of the skin directly below your breasts and his hand you felt laid flat over your rib cage, fingers digging in hard. Tight and firm everywhere. You felt bound up entirely. A clattering of documents bounced onto the floor by your feet and your eyes blinked hard and fast as you tried your best to calm your breathing down. He was still holding onto you when you could feel the panic subsiding and your breathing returning to normal.

Baekhyun’s upset seemed to take longer to pass. You felt the rapid up and down breathing of his chest echoed through your back and his face was buried in the space just over your shoulder, against your neck and into your hair. You could feel the heat from his breath on your neck. It was warm and sticky.

You gave a light tap over his arm that still held you tightly around your waist. Trying to get him to loosen the hold and let you go. It took some convincing though. His arm was very firm and he was holding you very tightly. Close call with literal death aside, a new danger was quickly making itself evident. He felt incredibly warm and nice with his body pressed up against you like this and you recognized the need to separate yourself from him if you were going to keep any remaining bits of your sanity and self resolve intact.

“Are you okay? You aren’t hurt?” He asked from somewhere buried behind you and you urgently nodded. He needed to let you go. He smelled so good.

You tapped his arm again, faster and more insisting, nearly begging now.

“I’m okay,” you said as calmly and as convincingly as you could manage with the limited oxygen you had in your lungs. You could finally feel the tension in his body relaxing a little. But only a little. The longer he held onto you, the more you felt something else making the air around the both of you feel so heavy — something else making the heat spreading between your bodies somehow feel warmer.

Baekhyun was not letting you go, and this was changing for him too, it seemed.

It took no less than a miracle that you did not moan out loud when you felt the deep inhale he took into his lungs with his face still buried deep within your hair. That deep inhale was paired with the smallest sound that came from somewhere deep inside of his chest that, if you were thinking strictly with your rational brain, you could maybe contribute to the relief. He made that sound out of relief that you were not hurt. He pulled that warm breath into himself deep and slowly, savoring it for much longer than necessary out of…relief. A wave of warmth ricocheted through your chest and down into your belly and you closed your eyes through it, desperately reminding yourself that you and him were now, well out of harm’s way, standing on a sidewalk at your workplace where anyone with eyes could see this.

Your tapping was harder now. It woke him up.

As soon as his arm was loose enough, you made a quick and clean break of every and all bits of contact with his body. As abruptly as this happened, you extracted yourself and you ignored the way his eyelids fluttered slowly open and that fucking pink hue in his cheeks and lips that turned his face into one of the most attractive faces you’d ever laid your eyes on.

You squatted down, picking up everything that had fallen and soon enough he joined you, grabbing things from your hands to add to his piles without saying a thing about what maybe he also felt building between the two of you whenever you happened to get too close to each other.

It couldn't happen. It no longer mattered whether or not you believed it was happening. You knew for certain that whatever was or was not happening, it needed to stop here. You simply would never put yourself into any position for this man to need to touch you ever again. You could not trust yourself.

A moan. You almost moaned. You could practically feel the sound ready to come out of your chest if you’d only allowed your mouth to open, it would have. You were insane. You were a crazy person, a goddamned lunatic and a menace. He was your assistant for god's sake.

You steadied your breathing and your resolve and decided to allow yourself two entire minutes to sign the rest of these things on the spot. So what if you were late to your meeting. Punctuality be damned. Sure, the almost dying part was a little scary, but even you had your limits of what you could stand. You had almost moaned! What next? An orgasm right here on the sidewalk? Lock you up and throw away the key now.

You made it on time to your meeting. He was the First Assistant Editor to the Picture Editor Sophie Choi, with whom you had been working very closely with for months on this project. Sophie’s 1st was a man who simply went by Chet. No last name, just Chet. Apparently it was his thing.

He was nice. He was always polite with you even when he had some bad news to deliver, he always relayed whatever news, projects updates, or requests for your team he had for you with an empathetic and professional filter. Unlike some other utterly obnoxious 1st AEs that you’d worked with in the past, Chet was alright.

He was also tall and extremely handsome if you were into muscles, backwards ball caps, and men who looked like they probably moonlighted as underwear models in the back pages of GQ magazine. Not that you had ever seen him in his underwear, but you did follow his instagram and you always made sure to give him that little heart when he posted his pictures.

Chet was a hugger. When he saw you his smile was charming and inviting as he called out your name and he wrapped his big arms around you, pulling you in like a long lost friend. You weren't exactly friends with him. While you’d been invited for drinks with him and his team on many occasions your schedule had always been too swamped to take him up on the offers, but he was still just as friendly with you.

You didn't require Baekhyun to attend this meeting but he was weirdly insistent on tagging along after the quick introductions you made between the two men. They both shook hands and there were some formalities and awkward pleasantries exchanged between the two. Baekhyun whispered to you that he was sure that he should attend this meeting for learning purposes. You were sure nothing important other than networking was about to happen, but he insisted that everything was important in its own way. He was stubborn and after a few back and forths you finally just gave in to the man. If he wanted to waste his lunch hour, who were you to argue?

Chet made a kind of too loud joke about some rumors that you’d been saddled with some fresh meat intern and you were quick to assure him that Baekhyun had actually turned out to be the best assistant you’d ever had. After the harmless joke, you risked a careful glance at Baekhyun. If he’d taken any offense, he certainly didn't react. He spent much of the meeting sitting in the back of the room typing furiously on his cellphone, no doubt answering many emails on your behalf. Baekhyun was always busy on that phone, keeping your workload down as a side effect.

The meeting was about halfway through when your stomach growled noisily and embarrassingly, reminding you that yes, you were indeed human and you probably should eat something today.

“Why don't we take this downstairs—” Chet lifted an eyebrow in your direction, “—have some lunch… on me?”

You considered it. It didn’t sound like a bad idea. You had all of the materials already and you skipped dinner last night and now that you thought about it, you skipped breakfast this morning too. Your nerves about the presentation had kept your appetite muted. The last meal you had was something shoved into your mouth by Baekhyun sometime yesterday afternoon.

‘Eat this,’ he had said at the time and you blindly opened your mouth and received whatever he shoved in there.

“Some lunch sounds lovely, Chet. Thank you.”

“That does sound lovely, Chet. Thank you,” Baekhyun mirrored from the back of the room, obviously inviting himself along. You couldn’t be completely sure, and you definitely wouldn’t swear to it under oath, but there was something funny about his tone.

Chet’s wide smile had a microscopic hiccup as his eyes moved between you and Baekhyun and then back to you again.

“Great!” He said over-enthusiastically, almost manically and you also detected something just a little funny in his response as well.

You didn't know what, but something was up with these two men.

Lunch was delicious. Baekhyun took the spot directly beside you, took it upon himself to unwrap your utensils and he placed them just so beside your plate and Chet sat across from you and took it upon himself to unwrap your straw and place it inside your glass for you.

You weren't sure what kind of an imbecile you had appeared to be, but clearly they thought you needed help with something as simple as feeding yourself. You smiled politely to both men. Maybe they were both just overly polite people? Although you knew for a fact that Baekhyun wasn’t that polite when it was just the two of you alone.

Something was definitely up with these two men.

Oddities aside from them, you didn't realize just how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your pasta. If this was going to be your only meal of the day you were going to have some carbs dammit.

Baekhyun had grabbed a chocolate dessert with his lunch plate. You recalled him mentioning once that he wasn’t that into sweets but you didn’t want to pry. You did steal occasional glances at the chocolate layers and one such glance had your eyes bouncing up onto his face where he chewed lazily on his sandwich without any care in the world for how lovely those chocolate and vanilla cream layers looked and must taste.

His eyes slipped to the side and he looked at you as he chewed and swallowed casually. He put his sandwich down and his hand slipped over to the dessert plate. With a single fingertip he touched the edge of the plate and he pushed it quietly and carefully in your direction until it sat there beside your pasta as if it had belonged there all along.

Your eyebrows lifted and you widened your eyes in his direction, mouthing a silent and hopeful ‘me?’

He nodded his head once giving you the tiniest scrunch of his nose and he picked his sandwich back up and continued to eat until it was almost gone.

You had abandoned your pasta, you’d had your fill of it. You took the first bite of the chocolate cake and you were pretty sure you could weep. You were also pretty sure you had completely and thoroughly just fallen in love….with the cake. You could so easily be bought and sold with a good chocolate cake. Baekhyun was the winner. Whatever the competition was, if any at all, whatever these weird vibes between them were, as far as you were concerned, it was over with the first bite.

Then lunch and the meeting were actually over and you didn't catch any more strange interactions between Baekhyun and Chet. Perhaps you’d imagined it all. With your belly full and your workload even lighter you graciously accepted the goodbye hug from the tall well meaning man and you even promised that you’d make an attempt to meet him for drinks once this project wrapped. You did, afterall, have an end date in sight at last. And even if you only saw him at the wrap party where there would be drinks, you wouldn’t technically be lying to him right now. He accepted your promise with an extended pinky finger waved into the air as you walked away cheerfully.

Your mood was grand. It was probably the cake and the pasta.

“Ahh, he’s great.” You remarked out loud and from your left you heard a stifled scoff poorly disguised as a cough from Baekhyun. You turned to look at him with wide questioning eyes.

“Chet.” Baekhyun said his name out loud once with an audible emphasis on the T at the end. As if that T was its very own punctuation mark. As if it was its own hilarious punchline.

“What? He’s nice. He’s so good to work with and he’s never given me any trouble at all.” Why you felt the need to defend Chet to Baekhyun you couldn't quite explain.

Technically, Baekhyun hadn’t even said anything bad about him. He just kept saying his name as if that in itself was the problem.

“Chet.” He repeated the name again, slower this time and then he laughed outright into his hand as if it was the funniest joke he’d heard all day. You’d expected one or two chuckles from him. But strangely, and concerningly, it didn’t stop. And worse, it was weirdly contagious. You fought it all you could but you accidentally allowed a few giggles to escape when he was in the thick of the fits of laughter. It had gotten so bad in the elevator up to your office that you had to smack him on the arm to get him to stop laughing and breathe before he passed out. His eyes were watering from it. He was wheezing and he was gasping. You reached up and wiped a tear stain from his cheek and patted him right on the face kind of hard, almost a slap, anything to get it to stop. It didn’t.

You were feeling dizzy as well. You felt drunk on this madness you both found yourself trapped in. It was silly. It was childish. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so hard. Even something as simple as eye contact with Baekhyun from across the quiet office would set you both off again. And he’d reach for the box of tissues and cover his face completely all the while loudly cackling. You had been overworked, exhausted and stressed maybe and this was a side effect of all of it. Maybe you’d both finally just lost your minds.

He eventually wound back down, calming and then busying himself with actual work.

“Chet.” He said out loud almost an entire hour later, bursting into noisy laughter all over again. You had to actually bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You were sick of it. Your stomach muscles ached and you were so very, very tired of the giggles.

“No more,” you begged, holding your face in your hands. Your cheeks were sore, everything hurt. Finally you just gave up and left the room to go to the bathroom and splash some water on your face. What was this? You wondered if you’d ever be able to meet with Chet again and just act normal. You definitely couldn't ever meet him with Baekhyun again, that was for damned sure.

Sometime in between redoing your entire face full of makeup that the laughter and the face washing wiped it out, and taking your seventh brisk lap around this hallway you decided it was time to put your foot down.

You were in charge here. This was your department, you had twenty seven subordinates that, on a daily basis, treated you with the utmost respect and followed your orders to the letter. You had made a decision that it was time for Baekhyun to do the same. You didn't care what he called you or who his father was.

You marched back into your office to face him with a plan in place ready to set into motion and you found him in a spot you absolutely didn't expect.

He was sitting behind your desk, in your chair doing a little sideways back and forth wiggle in your spinning office chair. He was humming a soft tune to himself as he carefully and slowly wrote something down with your pen on your pack of post-it notes, underlining and dotting and crossing letters. Your office phone had been moved. You guessed you received a phone call while you were out.

When he saw you walk through the door he looked up at you briefly before looking back down at what he was doing.

“Assistant Byun,” you said firmly. He hummed out in response and continued to write without looking up at you. You were fired up and ready for this and no amount of his distraction techniques were going to work on you this time. You knocked twice on your desk. “Assistant Byun?” You’d called out again and his eyebrows shot up in the middle of his face.

“Yes, yes, I am here. Your Assistant Byun is here, what do you need my esteemed and magnanimous Manager Noona?” He was still in a playful mood it seemed.

“Byun Baekhyun, from today onward you, nor I, are not allowed to say the c-word inside of this office. Do you understand me? The c-word is banned.” You put on your angry and serious voice and Baekhyun’s eyes widened and he looked straight into your face.

“I’m not allowed to say the…c-word?” he paused and his eyes looked down at the post-it note that he had just pulled off the pack and was holding gingerly between his thumb and his index finger.

“The c-word. You are not allowed to say the c-word anymore.” You harnessed the annoyance for the time wasted today. You thought about the hours of work you’d have to do at home to make up for today and you used that to make yourself seem as authoritative as possible. You meant business now. Play time was over. This was serious.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed and he dropped his chin in confusion.

After a long moment of thought he spoke.

“Cunt?” He whispered.

You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath. You had completely forgotten about that c-word.

“No, Baekhyun. Not cunt, Baekhyun.” You gritted your teeth.

“The other c-word from earlier, from the past three hours Byun Baekhyun, the other c-word. You can say cunt,” you hissed in annoyance with a hand wave, “You are forbidden from saying that other c-word.” Your frustration from the day was mounting. You rubbed your temples with your fingertips, willing the headache you felt building to subside.

“So, I can say cunt in this office?” His voice was louder now and you closed your eyes, threw your head back and inhaled a deep breath. “Cunt is okay? The other c-word is not allowed, but cunt you are okay with. That right, Boss?”

“Yes. You can say cunt if you have to say cunt. Do not, under any circumstances, say the other c-word in this office. Am I clear?” When you opened your eyes he was leaning his head far back in your desk chair in a lounging position. He’d pulled the lever below the seat so the seat back leaned way back and he was watching you with that little post it still held gingerly between his fingers and there was a look of smug satisfied amusement on his pretty face.

“Did anything happen while I was away? Why are you in my chair?”

“Well,” he began, sitting up straight and pushing himself up onto his legs as he made his way back around from behind your desk where you were pretty sure you had never given him permission to be. Not that it mattered, he already had access to everything you had access to, just for the sake of the assistant’s job.

“Well?” You urged him to continue and he looked down at the note again, reaching once more for the pen he scratched something off very thoroughly and you caught a quick movement as he wrote something in its place. He stood up now, straightening his shoulders, looking as put together and professional as ever and he straightened his back as he began reading word for word from the post-it note.

“Cunt called while you were out and asked if you would like to meet him tonight for drinks. I was sure to let him know that your schedule tonight is full and would be full all week, and I made sure that he knew that you do not have space to fit him in for drinks tonight, as you will be busy all night long, with the wrap. Cunt sounded unreasonably upset and just a little bit like a c-word. You are more than welcome, but not in any way obligated, to call him back. From Baekhyun.”

He looked up from the note with wide innocent eyes and his lips pulled into the smallest little pout and you reached forward and grabbed it from him quickly. Sure enough the entire thing was there, word for word. He’d crossed out Chet, replacing it with the word with Cunt every time.

You were pretty sure you were about two seconds away from a complete nervous breakdown.

You knew when you were beat. It was close enough to quitting time that you merely wadded up the note and tossed it into the nearest trash can and began packing up your laptop and a few things you knew you could work on at home. You knew you had a hard deadline coming up tonight by midnight that you absolutely could not miss but everything was on your laptop, you could simply get it all done and submitted from home.

Your quitting time meant it was also Baekhyun’s quitting time. He helped you pack up a few of your laptop accessories, lifting a few peripherals into the air in silent question. You nodded or shook your head for what you would need and they either went into the bag or they went back to the desk. This quiet communication between the two of you was one of your favorite things about him.

The ride down the elevator to the lobby was peaceful. Today felt like running a marathon. This job was usually stressful and eventful but today had been a whole other monster entirely. You could feel the stress and tension in your shoulders and you longed for a long soak in your bathtub.

Baekhyun walked out of the elevator beside you but in no way did you both have the same destination. You knew he would go out to his car and you would make your way down to the subway. You knew he lived on the opposite side of town from where you lived. The distance had to be maybe a 40 minute drive with this office being a center point. You hoped he got some good rest at home and you knew with your workload you’d have to settle for a 30 minute nap at most.

You’d cleared the elevator hallway and stepped into the open hallway when you saw him. It was Chet, and you caught the back of him seated in a chair having a rather casual and loud conversation with a buddy. You’d recognize the 2nd AE’s toupee atop his head from a mile away. This was definitely not something you needed right now.

Your steps paused and you backed up a quick two steps, hiding behind the wall that divided the elevators from the lobby. You could clearly hear the two men laughing and reminiscing about whatever it was two buddies talked about.

Baekhyun who had been just a step behind you caught your rapid evasive motions and his eyes also zeroed in on and instantly understood the danger in the lobby.

“Oh shit,” he said under his breath. “He doesn’t even work in this building. I bet he’s waiting for you.”

“What do I do? I don't want to go out for a drink. I have a midnight deadline. Is there a back door?” Your voice betrayed your panic and Chet’s noisy words broke through the occasional squeaking of the wheels on the cleaning lady’s bucket as she mopped the hallway floor and curiously glanced at the two of you hiding here behind this wall.

‘Man, she’s got this new cockblocking assistant. Real fucking annoying, one of those pretty boys. I mean like I’m pretty but I’m still manly, you know bro? Anyway, I’ve been working on this chick for like six months which is fucking bullshit, for me, you know that. She’s a fucking tease, a sexy tease, but still. Dude, she likes all of my posts. Yeah, tonight’s the night. I’ve waited enough.’

The air felt thin and you could feel that suffocating sinking feeling in your stomach that sometimes came with these horrible realizations about people you thought you knew. Behind you, you felt his flinch as every muscle in Baekhyun’s body seemed to tense up and he took a step forward.

You reached out a hand and wrapped it securely around his arm and you pulled him back hard.

“I still have to work with him,” you said firmly and you did your best to keep the trembling out of your voice.

Baekhyun was frozen and his ears were bright red with a look of anger like you hadn’t seen before from him set deep inside his eyes.

He was eerily quiet save for the sound of his steady breathing and his fists were white from how tightly he clenched them. What was this strong reaction? It wasn’t like he had that much allegiance to you. Maybe he just hated the sight of those womanizing, degrading types of men who treated women like conquests and objects.

Baekhyun looked around at his surroundings and his focus stopped on the old woman with the mop and squeaky wheeled bucket. He was reaching into his pocket and he pulled out a crisp bill, you couldn't quite make out the denomination but it had to be at least $100 and he walked up to the woman with a smile on his face. A few words were exchanged and she quietly nodded and accepted the offering from him, turning and walking away quietly with the mop in her hand, leaving behind her bucket in the center of the hallway, close enough to where Chet sat for you to instantly understand Baekhyun’s intention.

Baekhyun was casual about it. You watched on in awe as he returned halfway to where you were and then made a quick circle, working up some speed he pulled out his cellphone and acted as if he was glued to the thing, completely immersed as he moved fast. He kicked the bucket with enough force for a wall of dirty mop water to go flying. The water was nearly black and it traveled with impressive speed, hitting Chet and soaking almost up to his waist. He yelped out in surprise and Baekhyun yelped out in surprise as he really sold it and fell down onto the floor, grabbing at his shin as if he were in great pain. The cellphone he had in his hands flew and clattered onto the carpet and Chet stood up half surprised, half enraged but too soaking wet to do much other than hobble around.

“What the fuck!?” Chet howled toward Baekhyun who was already being helped up by several concerned onlookers all who looked back at Chet in admonishment for instantly rushing to blame Baekhyun, who was clearly injured here. Chet was just wet. A few of the more sympathetic bystanders tossed a few take-out napkins in his direction.

“Who left that there?” Baekhyun called out in concern and groaned in fake pain.

“Oh no, Chet! Your pants, Bro!” Baekhyun said loudly and you had to cover your mouth with both hands to hide the loud snort of laughter that erupted from your mouth. The commotion itself lasted until Chet grumpily wobbled out of the front door, probably headed back to his own office for a change of clothes. The old woman returned shortly after that with her mop and began soaking up the remains of the liquid and Baekhyun straightened his posture, miraculously recovered from his injury and he sauntered his way back to you with a smile on his lips.

“My dearest Manager Noona,” When he reached you, he did so with his palm lifted into the air and a sweet little addition to your title on his lips, “Chet seems to have been called away on an urgent matter and is regrettably unable to join you for drinks this evening.”

“Oh no. What a shame,” you replied with a bright smile for him. You can't remember ever being quite this smiley at work before Baekhyun. If someone were to see you, they’d think you’d gone crazy. Maybe you had.

At least today was Friday. At least after you met your midnight deadline you had a late start tomorrow, you would be able to sleep in. You’d be able to eat breakfast and you’d be able to have a meal at a table like a civilized human. Your Saturday was relatively light compared to what today had been.

You said your farewells to him and you made your way to the subway, settling into the seat as you casually considered the quickest and most efficient way to make your deadline tonight. Your hand passed over the pockets, feeling for the blue external hard drive you always kept there in the pocket of this bag that had vital attachments that had been cleared and vetted by every important department at work to submit to the production teams. You felt with both hands over that space in the bag and found it suspiciously flat and terrifyingly empty. The pocket was empty. The hard drive was not in there. You were already nearly home and you searched your recent memory for clues, where had you left it. Where would it possibly be?

You searched through your memory and came up blank. Where had you seen it last? A feeling dawned suddenly and you remembered something Baekhyun had told you while you had been mentally occupied with something far more important at the time.

‘The blue hard drive is…’ His voice echoed…but you could not recall the rest of his sentence. Is where? Where was it?

You pulled out your cell phone and sent a text.

‘Blue hard drive’ you said those three words and only those three words and your phone was ringing.

You lifted the phone to your ear and before you even said a word Baekhyun was speaking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I have it. I have the blue hard drive. Shit. This is make or break isn’t it? I forgot to give it to you. Where are you now? I’m turning around. I’m coming to you.”

“I just got home. I’ll text you the address.” You hung up the phone without saying anything else and you quickly sent him your home address. As soon as you’d done it you felt uneasy anxious butterflies swimming around inside of your belly when the realization of this hit you.

Baekhyun was coming to your house and you were about to have a full blown panic attack at the thought of that man alone in here with you.

Byun Baekhyun was coming to your house. He’d given a little thumbs up to the text message with your address and that meant that he was already on his way.

[To Be Continued]

Story Links: Can I Stay? - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

I thought Fauci was hospitalized with the WEST NILE virsus? "Fauci wants to bring back MASKS after contracting COVID (despite being vaccinated SIX times)"

12 Aug 2024

By Alexa Lardieri U.S. Deputy Health Editor Dailymail.Com

The number of infections is increasing as part of another summer surge - even though hospitalizations and deaths from the virus remain at historic lows.

On Monday, the former director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Disease said: 'The message is that if you are in a risk category you have got to take this seriously.'

The 83-year-old told people with comorbidities and seniors 'you should be wearing a mask' in crowded places.

He also revealed he had contracted Covid about two weeks ago. It was his third Covid infection and he has been vaccinated and boosted a total of six times.

The above shows weekly Covid deaths (blue bars) and percent positivity of Covid tests (orange line)

The above shows the percent positivity of Covid tests in the past week by region in the US

According to the CDC, the weekly Covid test positivity for the week ending August 3 was nearly 18 percent, compared to 16 percent the prior week and 10 percent one month before that. 

Test positivity is the share of Covid swabs taken that come back positive. 

World Health Organization officials warn that if the virus continues to spread, it could lead to new mutations and severe infections that evade vaccine protection and therapeutics. 

Deaths have been generally on the rise since May, but began declining the week ending July 20. They currently hover at around 500 per week, compared to more than 25,000 in the fall of 2020.

The elderly, people with compromised immune systems and those with comorbidities are more at risk of developing severe Covid, being hospitalized and have a higher risk of death from the virus. 

New documents 'credibly show' Covid DID leak from Wuhan lab, say House Republicans

Dr Fauci told MedPage Today Editor-in-Chief Dr Jeremy Faust: 'You don't have to immobilize what you do and cut yourself off from society, but regardless of what the current recommendations are, when you're in a crowded closed space and you're an 85-year-old person with chronic lung disease or a 55-year-old person who is morbidly obese with diabetes and hypertension, then you should be wearing a mask.

'And you should be careful to avoid crowded places where you don't know the status of other people and you should get vaccinated and boosted on a regular basis.'

Dr Fauci's face mask guidelines have long been criticized as people claimed they did not work to prevent the spread of Covid. 

The educational and social effects of face masks on children have been well documented, with one NIH study calling the impact of mask use on students' literacy and learning 'very negative.' 

Another NIH study also found that social distancing caused 'depression, generalized anxiety, acute stress and intrusive thoughts.'  

And in testimony to Republicans in June, Dr Fauci admitted he didn't remember reading anything to support that masking kids would prevent COVID.

When asked if masking kids was an effective way of preventing Covid transmission, he said: 'I still think that's up in the air.' 

Despite the mixed guidance, experts are still concerned about the rapid spread.

Dr Ashish Jha, dean of Brown University's School of Public Health and former White House Covid response coordinator, told NBC: 'If you just talk about infections, this is probably going to end up becoming the largest summer wave we’ve had. It’s still not as big as the winter waves, but it is starting to get close.'

Dr Anthony Fauci recommended that the elderly and people with comorbidities wear face masks to protect against Covid

Dr Jha said she expects this surge to peak in the next few weeks and subside in September, just as updated vaccines to target the KP.2 strain of Covid become available.  

Additionally, in a briefing last week, World Health Organization officials said 84 countries are experiencing a rise in the percentage of positive Covid tests over the last several weeks. 

WHO officials said: 'Covid-19 infections are surging globally... and are unlikely to decline anytime soon. The UN health agency is also warning that more severe variants of the coronavirus may soon be on the horizon.'

And wastewater surveillance suggests the spread of the virus is two to 20 times higher than what is currently being reported. 

WHO officials added that new waves of infection could spur mutations and more dangerous strains of the virus 'that could potentially evade detection systems and be unresponsive to medical intervention.

The health agency is urging countries to ramp up their vaccination efforts and promote yearly Covid vaccines for high-risk individuals. 

Dr Maria Van Kerkhove, an infectious disease epidemiologist and lead of the COVID-19 response at WHO, said: 'As individuals it is important to take measures to reduce risk of infection and severe disease, including ensuring that you have had a COVID-19 vaccination dose in the last 12 months, especially, if you are in an at-risk group.

'I am concerned with such low coverage and with such large circulation, if we were to have a variant that would be more severe, then the susceptibility of the at-risk populations to develop severe disease is huge.'"

[snowdice]

Unplanned Consequences (Part 5: Patton) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series-The End]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton/Logan

Characters: Patton, Logan, Virgil (mentioned), Roman (mentioned)

Summary: Sometimes... things change.

Notes: This takes place after Best Laid Plans

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Hey Lo,” Patton said as he walked into the living room. Virgil had officially moved into an apartment with Roman a few days ago as the spring semester was starting tomorrow. This left Patton and Logan living alone together in the house for the first time since… The Incident.

Patton had just finished cleaning up dinner after getting Logan settled on the couch. The TV was on, but Logan was currently staring past it into space, something he never used to do, but had become a frequent occurrence since getting injured. It worried Patton a bit, but he tried not to think about it.

Logan looked up at him as Patton said his name. He didn’t smile softly at Patton like he usually would have. It made something clog in Patton’s throat.

“Hello,” Logan said.

“I… made us both some tea,” Patton said, holding out the tea mugs as though for his approval.

“Thank you, love.” He still seemed distracted and distant. He turned back towards the television.

Patton nodded and then walked over to set the mugs on the coffee table. Then, he sat down on the couch next to Logan. Years of instinct told him to scootch over closer until their arms and legs intermingled, but he hesitated.

Logan either noticed his hesitation, or noticed his deviation from the norm, because he glanced over at Patton. He lifted the arm closest to Patton and Patton instantly took the invitation, moving closer to curl up under his arm.

Logan pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

It was silent between them for a long moment, only the sound of the television droning on breaking the quiet. The news was on, Patton noted. There was coverage on a supervillain attack Prince had stopped the night before.

“I think I need to retire,” Logan said out of the blue.

Patton drew back to look at him in surprise. “What?” he asked. “You’ve been given medical leave until next fall. You’ll be more than recovered enough to go back to teaching by then.”

Logan looked at him for a moment and then gave him a wry smile. “I wasn’t talking about teaching, my dear.”

“Oh,” Patton said blinking at him. “Oh.” He took a moment to process that statement. “But you… you want to retire?”

“I wouldn’t say want,” Logan said, “but I think it may be the most responsible course of action.”

“You… I know you’re struggling with the leg and everything right now, but you’ll get better.”

“Patton,” Logan said, “you’re a doctor.”

“Exactly!” Patton said, feeling oddly defensive for a reason he couldn’t place. “So, I know exactly how people heal from injuries like yours. You’ll need time, but with physical therapy and…”

Logan cut him off. “With physical therapy,” he said, “I will get much better. I will perhaps walk again, maybe even without a mobility aid eventually, but Patton, I’m 57-years-old. This severe of an injury is not going to heal quickly or completely.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m getting old,” Logan said. “I’ve been slowing down, and this will not help me speed up. Being Bluebird is physically… and mentally demanding. I won’t be able fully meet those demands again after what happened.”

“That’s not true,” Patton said even though he wasn’t sure of that himself.

“It is,” said Logan. “It’s always something that would happen eventually. This has just… sped up the process.”

“You’re catastrophizing,” Patton said. It was probably an ironic statement to make when Patton’s words sounded so much more upset than his husband’s. “You’re making a rash decision because you feel bad now, but…”

“This isn’t rash,” Logan said, evenly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot in the last months.”

Patton didn’t know what to say to that.

“Besides,” he said, nodding at the TV. The news had cycled around again while they talked, back to Prince, back to Roman. “I’m not the city’s only long-term hero anymore. Roman had been doing well before and is doing even better now. I will continue to help him on his journey, and it won’t be an immediate transition. Bluebird will still make a few appearances, but I do think it’s time. For my own sake and ultimately for this city’s too.”

Patton hesitated. Logan was right, of course, that this was inevitable. It’s just that Patton had never really thought about it. He didn’t want to think about it, especially now when Logan was still so hurt in multiple ways. He’d been telling himself that eventually things would go back to normal, but Logan had just confirmed Patton’s greatest fear: they wouldn’t.

It felt selfish to be upset, but Patton really couldn’t help it. Patton felt himself gripping onto Logan’s sleeve for support even though support was Patton’s job right now. He felt tears in his eyes, but he resisted letting them fall.

“Are you okay?” Logan asked.

“I…” Patton said. A couple of the tears escaped. “It’s just… I’ve never known a Logan that wasn’t also Bluebird.”

Logan sighed softly. He gently removed Patton’s grasping hand from his shirt sleeve to hold it in his own. “Things change,” he said, doing that thing where he stared into the distance again, “labels shift.”

A/N:

And that my friends, is the end of Sometimes Labels Shift.

It's been a long time coming and I'm feeling a bit emotional even though it's not the end of the Labeled Universe. We're just moving on to the next chapter.

All of our favorite Labeled characters will return in the new sub-series named Envisage. I hope to see you there.

[seven7een7h]

In the process of attempting my first fic, which is a crossover fic literally no one asked for of Teen Wolf and the Batfam, still workshopping but I figured I would share and see of anyone has any thoughts.

Don’t have a name yet, but lemme know what y’all think, I’ve never posted my writing before.

~

Beacon Hills hadn't changed a bit.

When Stiles left, well admittedly he hadn't really planned on coming back, but if he had, he probably would have assumed it would look... not exactly the same as 6 years ago.

He was back though, Stiles' plans never went off without a hitch, and it was the same. It was the same right down to the cracked pavement in front of his father's house, to the key catching in the lock, to the creak in the door when he let himself in, to the smell of home. What used to be home. This hadn't felt like home in a long time, that was half the reason he left in the first place.

His phone buzzed from his front pocket. A text from his father,

Text me when you get home kiddo

My shift ends in 30

Stiles huffed, leaning against his door frame with a languid smile to shoot back a response,

I got in early, just got to the house

See you when you get home

He tucked his phone away, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and onto the chair by his desk. It looked the same as the day he left, with a haphazard pile of papers on the corner, scrawled messily in his old handwriting. Far less legible back then, but he was far less a lot of things back then. Talia would never allow for it now, she had claimed primly that she would not waste time trying to decode his letters if he would not even take the time to write them.

Between her and Jason, his writing had become crisp, neat. Different from her curving cursive and Jason’s bold print, Damian’s shaky mix of the two, and then his sharp script, improving as he aged under their tutelage.

Stiles missed them, even if they were only a call or text away, he felt the miles of ground covered. The 3-day drive from Jason’s safehouse in Gotham, and the flight from Nanda Parbat 2 days prior, were weighing on him now. His shoulders and back ached in a way that was a bit insulting for his age, 24 was far too young to be feeling quite so old.

He longed for the chaise in Talia’s quarters. Wishing to lay once more and listen to her pen on parchment, to the turn of pages as Jason lounged a few feet away, the puffs of breath as Damian lay napping in her lap.

He couldn’t get that peace here. Admittedly, he couldn't get it there anymore either, with Jason and Damian in Gotham, separated by the morals of Damian’s father. Of Batman. By the mask of Red Hood, maintaining Jason’s identity as Bruce Wayne’s still-dead son, hiding him from the bats.

Until he chose to reveal himself, Jason and Damian would be forced to keep their distance, circumstances permitting. It seemed they all felt that distance in equal measures, as Stiles' identity, and his lack of mask, meant his movements around either of them were just as limited. With the exception of those in the league, Stiles’ connection to any of them, his existence as anything more than a regular civilian, were unknown, and best kept that way.

Even so, the two of them had met him at one of Jason’s safehouses, taking ample precautions to mitigate any risk of discovery, for a final farewell before his departure back to California, with promises that, just like they would do for each other, he need only call for them and they would be there, no matter the consequences. He swore to himself that he would never endanger them like that.

Stiles sent off a text in their chat, alerting the family to his arrival. Within minutes Damian responded, wishing him well in his own formal way and demanding to be kept in the loop. Talia also messaged him, asking about his trip before excusing herself for business. Jason likely wouldn’t respond until closer to sunset on the east coast, being left largely nocturnal by his crime syndicate.

He could do with a nap himself, he had earned it, surely. Flopping onto his old mattress, he took in the old smell with closed eyes and allowed himself to drift off.

About 45 minutes later, Stiles awoke to the dull thud of the front door closing, signaling the arrival of his father. He stretched, cracking his jaw with a yawn, and rolled onto his feet, grabbing his phone off of the mattress, where it hung precariously close to sliding onto the floor.

“Stiles?” His father called from the foot of the stairs.

“Just coming,” he called back, pulling his bedroom door open, “I fell asleep, sorry.”

He met his father’s eyes from the top of the stairs, before scrambling down them and into his father’s open arms.

Sheriff Stilinski may not have Claudia Stilinski’s all encompassing embrace, but the warmth of his arms squeezing around Stiles’ shoulders still felt intensely nostalgic.

“I missed you.” He mumbled into the worn cotton of his father’s uniform.

“I missed you too, welcome home, son.” His father squeezed back tighter, briefly, before releasing him in favor of laying a hand on his shoulder to look at him at arm's length.

[fostercare-expat]

Question for you all in the USA: Is the division of roles the same as below in your area? Is it just 1 social worker who manages the kids case and also does the guidance and support of mom?

Background- 2 weeks ago I had asked the new social worker this question:

“Who is going to be the staff person who is the main point of contact for Mom and who will be guiding and encouraging her to do everything that she needs to do in order to regain custody of her sons? Is that person you? I just want to make sure that there is someone at CPS who is responsible for really guiding and encouraging Mom, and then I'll step back from that role entirely, and I'll only communicate with Mom about logistics for the kids only, and I'll be more mentally stable if I have a boundary where I don't have any conversations with Mom where I need to be encouraging her to call her kids and organising visits for the kids to see her or explaining to her about how much damage is being done to the kids by keeping them in CPS care. Essentially if I just know that you have that role to manage Mom and help her be a better parent, then I can try to just let you do that without me feeling I need to be doing that. (Because during the Investigation phase, that was clearly not the Social Worker's role. The Social Worker told us that the role was to observe Mom's behaviour and see what sort of parenting she proactively chose to do, and that encouragement and services only began in the Intervention phase.)”

After 2 weeks and a reminder, this was the answer I got:

“Regarding this:

- my role as the CPO is to ensure that the child protection concerns are addressed, and to guide mom towards the reintegration of her children. That involves working with mom such as coordinating services and access etc, and supporting her so that she will be able to provide safe care for her children in the long term.

- we appreciate that you have been doing your best to encourage and push mom to improve as a parent.

- however, mom's motivation to be a better parent for her children needs to come from within, and she needs to demonstrate the necessary commitment towards ensuring her children's safety and wellbeing, on her own. Ultimately this will go into CPS's assessment of the likelihood and timeline of reintegration as well.

- we do hope that moving forward you will not feel inclined to take responsibility for having to constantly chase or push for mom to step up. This is not a role nor responsibility for others except the children's parents to bear.

- still, thank you very much for your continued efforts in supporting mom and her children, which have undoubtedly contributed to the children's current safety and wellbeing. I hope this clears up some of your concerns!”

My response:

“Thanks, [Her Name]. It does help clear up some of my concerns. I know that when I see opportunities where Mom can be a better parent that I can communicate them to you, and it will be your choice if you do or don't discuss those things with Mom.

Just to reassure you, I have held back IMMENSELY in encouraging her to be a better parent over the last 3 years. I haven't said 99% of thing I would have liked to :)

I do have some concerns about if Mom is going to get enough guidance to inspire true change though. From what I can see, she never had a positive role model for what being a good parent looks like. I feel she needs a lot of guidance to help her see what sort of different choices she could make which have a positive impact on her kids. She isn't a bad mom, but she isn't a good mom either. But I see great potential in her to be a genuinely good mom. I'm guessing she is probably repeating the cycle of parenting that she grew up with herself, and if she isn't exposed to a different way of parenting, then I fear she will just continue as is.

I hope that you will have the time to spend with her to help guide her and cheer on her efforts, but I know that you have many cases to attend to. I also think it will be challenging for her to accept advice from someone younger than her who hasn't raised kids. I think it will also be difficult for her to trust you as you are also the same person who has decided that her boys can't return home yet. I'm sure you are already aware of all these factors of course.”

@predictablyunpredictablelife You seem to have some good ideas on how to improve the support element. Thoughts?

[pininghermit]

Dare I Desire (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Adrian x Male Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5| Chapter 6| Chapter 7|

AN: Introducing a bunch of OCs

“How do you know my name?” Adrian asks you, who sat opposite him. He was still taking in the clean castle and changed surrounding and now this… The plate of food in front of him felt foreign. How long had it been since he had such food and not just alcohol.

“Why yes Adrian, it is nice to meet you too. My name is y/n by the way.” you cross your legs as you rest your head on the chaise’s arm. As if the debacle in the storeroom never happened. Adrian felt a pulse of annoyance the more time he spent with the intruder.

Stormy grey eyes stared back at him in a silent challenge. The suave smile that concealed fangs similar to his was equally infuriating. Anger, rage, wrath Adrian felt them all at once.

“Ai, don’t glare at me like that!” you said in pseudo hurt voice with an extravagant motion of your hands. “Believe me,” with a dramatic hand on your heart you continued. “I will tell you everything but right in sequence. I will reveal to you who I am and my reason for being here but before that we need to go back in time. The story goes like this-

Long ago, maybe decades, maybe centuries or maybe millennia ago there was a world that housed both the evil and the good equally. Elves, men, vampire, dwarves, faerie, even dhampir must I say, lived on the same planes. In those times monsters were not labeled by a kind. It was the deed that labeled right and wrong, not the specie or race.

However, such a world had to come to an end when humans grew. With their growth came the need for land, the need to conquest and conflict. Soon the world that once housed all now fell into the struggle of survival and death. One had to die for the other to live.

Wars raged and monsters came to being. Our kind was not different. Born with unageing bodies that withstood decay our kind wielded the weapon of pride. But that’s just the boring part of history. Do you want the juicy part?” Adrian blinked. He had been too engrossed. Almost enough to forget about the vampire sitting in his study.

“Ahh I must say my story telling skills are quite impeccable.” Ignoring Adrian’s snarl, you continue. “Let’s skip a few years. So, the humans, vampires, elves, fae fought blah blah blah. You know the boring parts.” No. Adrian in fact did not know. None of the books in his father’s study mentioned this. Whatever you were spouting. All his curiosity was shattered by the man child, who probably was way older than anyone he had ever met. Adrian would not grant you any of his curiosity.

Slouched on chaise you spoke of war like a bedtime story. “Whatever my parents were pretty sick of all that and decided to leave the humans alone. They created a veiled world for us magical folk. Of course, superior to the rest.” If obnoxious were a person, it would be you, who sat, in front of him.

“In return they pledged to give up on blood. A bargain made with the spirits of the land that offered them a hidden valley. And so came to be Asor, the kingdom and refuge for the beings of the past world. Humans were given their world and we were given ours.

With peace came time and oh boy did my parents use it well. Now, now no judgement of course but I do have six other siblings.” Well, that was hard not to judge Adrian wondered.

“Eldest are triplets Cenfrith, Estrid, and Rowena. Close knit than any of us. They gave up their right to the throne for the sake of their weird bond. Don’t ask me…I don’t know either. Then came Yorick, the second eldest or fourth if you do the math. He rules now. Being the most responsible of us it made sense.” Despite the light manner of your speech Adrian could sense the tightness in your voice at the mention of Yorick. A weird tension that did not suit you.

“After Yorick is Harold, the artist of our family. A lone soul, very hard to find on any given day. And then comes Saewig ten years older than me and the menace. Brutal with his words and bows Saewig is the hunter who is almost is a beast himself.” You take a deep breath and pause as if to gather your marbles after that long list.

“Last and the most precious is me,” you gesture extravagantly. “Of course, having me made my parents realize that a greater perfection could not exist.” With an unabashed smile you jump up from the chaise.

“And how does this all matter to me,” Adrian mutters his heart beating wildly with an emotion he did not know of.

“You,” you point with a finger that makes Adrian want to snap it. Somehow you are now sprawling on his couch, “have the immense privilege of being the mate to the youngest lord of Asor.”

A second later you crouch on the floor as Adrian’s fist throbs from the impact of his punch. Unfortunately, Vampire bones don’t break easily.

[aromantic-enjolras]

20 questions for 20 writers!

Thank you @pumpkinspice-prouvaire for the tag! Let me see what I can do with this...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Holy fu- Fourty-four??? When did that happen????

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

122,025. One third of yours, pumpkin!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Les Mis and Jesus Christ Superstar. I used to write for Cats a few years ago, and I wrote Sherlock and Harry Potter once upon a time. I also wrote Stranger Things once, but that was a gift for @p-trichor and I don't think I will again (writing about characters from a show you've never watched is stressful!)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Rumour Has It (Les Mis, ExR Prof AU). Good Enough To Eat (Stranger Things, vampire Steddie). Merlin (TV) according to Ao3 (Merlin, not technically a fic). Ne m'aime pas (Les Mis, aro!Enjolras). Sleepy Love (Harry Potter, Wolfstar). my beloathed, so happy it's almost out of the top 5

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to!! I love getting comments, so I do like getting back to people. Though sometimes someone leaves a comment so elaborate and so kind I freeze at how to make a good enough response and I never do. So... @buffintruder I promise I cherish every single one of your comments please don't be hurt if I don't answer!!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uuuuuh.... I guess depends on your definition. If we're going for implications, it would be "A Kiss With a Betrayal (Is Better Than None)". Nothing that bad happens, but it's the setup of Judas' betrayal of Jesus, and shit gets daaark after that. If you go with actual sad ending, "I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship" would have to take it. Enjolras cries so much in that one.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

"Curiosity Trapped the Cat", probably. It's just so cute!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not anymore, thankfully! When I was a fandom youngster I got a very angry comment on a Jily (Harry Potter) fic from someone who was enraged Lily didn't end up with Snape, and someone who ripped me a new one for using a word that turned out to be perfectly neutral in my native language and a slur in English.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! Not often, but I have a PWP on Ao3, actually. For some reason I only do it as a collaborative effort, though: the Courfjolras PWP on Ao3 is a joint fic with @pumpkinspice-prouvaire and I have two Courfjoltaire WIPs with @shamedumpster (called "In the Middle (While you two get along)" and "Skip the awkward (come undone)" ^^).

10. Do you write crossovers?

Same as pumpkin here. I don't do crossovers, but I do love myself a good AU!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Does it count if I was the one doing it? My first fic, the Jily one I was saying, I wrote in my native language and then translated to English. The two versions are on ff.net!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep! Apart from the aforementioned Courfjolras PWP, I wrote a cute fluffy ExR with @pumpkinspice-prouvaire for the Ace!Enjolras series. Also depending on how you see it the Jesus Christ Superstar is a joint effort with @shamedumpster, even if we are writing separately each bit.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Why don't you ask me to choose a favourite child? Might be easier!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

A rockstar AU where Courf is an aromantic Bowie stand-in and Marius is his main guitarist and fuckbuddy who gets too invested. I love it, but it's a longfic and I'm not good at sticking to those. (And also it's a Sad Ending rarepair fic. Who is going to read it?)

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at keeping people in their POVs and not slipping into omniscient narrators. Descriptions, too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get stuck on logistics. Sometimes you just have to handwave shit, you know? People don't need to know when they put the cup down or the position of every guard.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

As someone who is always reading in a language that isn't mine, if I can read an entire fic in English, you can read two sentences in another language and their translation if it works for the character. My caveat to that is in Les Mis fics: do not suddenly have characters say five words in French if they're already all French. It just breaks the illusion that they were speaking French the whole time.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

And posted? Harry Potter. In general? Percival Christopher Wren's "Beau Geste". I hated the ending so much I wrote an entire Fix-It ending.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

"Still Crazy After All These Years", a Courferre second chance romance fic I wrote last year. It's a little more involved than I usually do, with a non-linear narrative and a non-linear writing process, and I think it turned out really well. I feel like the nuance of the situation was pretty well done, too.

Tagging @buffintruder, @quillsand, @shamedumpster and @enjolraspermettendo!

[moriartyluver]

ARE YOU MINE CHAPTER I

"OH! YOU'RE HERE EARLY."

(Name) looked up as she tuned her new guitar, eyes meeting a pair of bright blue ones.

"James, hi," She smiled before returning her attention to the instrument in her hands "Did you see Sherly and John on the way here?"

About half a year ago, (Name) had discovered, near her secondary school, that there was an abandoned building. An old art studio to be precise. It was surrounded by a small forest but the building itself was enough for them to practice in. It was much better than practicing at Sherlock's or some overpriced old shed.

Sherlock, (Name) and John had all went to the same school and were friends, although not extremely close. One day, (Name) had found out in conversation that Sherlock also played the guitar, aswell as the violin, and they had been extremely close since. 

Shortly after, Sherlock and (name) had found the little abandoned building and cleared it out, as if claiming it as their own. Obviously they weren't planning on keeping it, but once the band would start taking off, they had their eyes on a proper place to practice, they just needed the money for it.

James nodded before speaking "They're at the corner shop, buying snacks for the practice. How long have you been here for?"

"Long enough." (Name) sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I've just been messing about with this guitar, y'know, trying to see if I can make a good tune or something.." she paused then looked towards the door where she saw Sherlock and John coming in from.

"We bring sustenance!" Sherlock laughed, holding up a few bags of crisps, tossing a (favourite snack) at (name) who smiled gratefully in response then sat beside her as john approached his drum kit after dumping the remaining snacks on an old coffee table.

"Took you long enough," James said, sitting down "(Name)'s been waiting here for God knows how long."

"Not my fault you all have terrible sense of time." She said "if I message the group chat and say we're meeting at 2, we're meeting at 2. Not 2:30pm, and certainly not 3."

"Hey! I bought you (favourite snack)! I deserve a thank you, not a nagging!" Sherlock exclaimed, pointing at an unamused (name).

"Whatever" she rolled her eyes

John opened a tube of salt and vinegar Pringles, then gestured to a bag beside (name) "What's in that?"

She looked down then opened the little plastic bag, with a local supermarket's logo on it. "Oh this? ..uh it has all my music stuff in it. Like albums and my record player."

James frowned in sympathy for a moment "Right, forgot to ask how it was with your parents last night, you know, after what you told us with the guitar breaking."

"You can always crash at my place if they end up kicking you out," Sherlock offered

(Name) shook her head in response as John offered her a Pringle, taking one with a small 'thank you'  "It's fine, really. Went better than I expected in fact."

"Really?"

"Well it wasn't perfect, and my parents lectured me quite a bit, but they were grateful I returned at all after what dad did. They said I wasn't allowed to keep these," she pointed to the bag ",there anymore. My parents said it would distract me from my studies when I go to university, but I'm allowed to stay in the band as long as it remains a hobby. My mum convinced my dad to get off my back about it, thankfully. I agreed to it, but I'm probably not gonna stick to it."

"Didn't you tell your dad you didn't really want to go to University yet?" John asked

"Nah," (name) said "I just said I was taking a gap year and I'll start next year. Hopefully our luck will change and by then, I can get away with just being a rockstar.." she smiled "Speaking of-"

"Oh god not this again," Sherlock muttered

(Name) scowled at him "We can't be a band if we don't have any songs, idiot. We can't just keep doing Arctic monkeys covers for the rest of our careers if we want to be taken seriously. Sure it's fun, but we can't earn real money if we don't make real music!"

"Yeah but you're the song writer, not us." The ravenette pointed out  "You got anything yet?"

(Name) pulled out a notebook with the words 'composition notebook' written on the front. She flipped through the pages. "We still need to sort out our concept but I think I've got some ideas. I think our first album has to be something special, you know...I've been thinking about what we're passionate about and then I sort of came to the idea we should make a song about government corruption, and the oppression of the working class, but I still need to get the lyrics right.."

"That's not bad actually," Sherlock hummed "It'll get us noticed for sure, and we're spreading a message too, good job, (nickname)"

(Name) flashed a smile, then stood up, holding her guitar and strumming a few strings hesitantly. She sat back down with an exasperated sigh.

"There's something missing, though...I can't figure it out yet.." she muttered

"Maybe you should take a break?" John suggested

James nodded in agreement "Let the thoughts process in your mind. We'll just play a few random songs and let you do some thinking. You eat your snack and relax."

(Name) put her notebook in front of her, resting her cheek against her palm as Sherlock, John and James played 'Creep' by Radiohead in the background, although it wasn't helping much.

There was an edge to their music that they didn't have yet, but it was hard to decide what. Their band was quite traditional though. Two guitarists, both of which sing, a drummer and a bassist. Other bands had some variation but the vision that (name) had was difficult to explain.

Yes, (name) adored her very new and modern guitar, but there was something about traditional instruments...Sherlock played violin, perhaps they could make do with that..? No..

(Name) shut her eyes, and in the strange foggy darkness, she saw the stranger from yesterday, playing piano elegantly. She opened her eyes slowly, roughly scribbling various words, which morphed into phrases and then lyrics  on the paper. She put her pen down and turned back to her lyrics from earlier.

"The sins that hide in a precarious mist...?" she muttered under her breath, then shot up in her seat, yelling over to the rest of the band. "Hey!" They stopped playing and turned to her "What rhymes with mist?"

"Hmm.." James put his finger to his chin "List..Cist..wish..?"

"Wish doesn't rhyme with mist." Sherlock said, narrowing his eyes at James.

"It does if you say it in a certain way, but of course you wouldn't know that with your Yorkie accent." James argued back.

"You bloody Yankee..!" He cursed, holding up his guitar threateningly

"Sherlock, no! We don't need another broken guitar!" John warned, forcing Sherlock to put his guitar back down.

(Name) laughed quietly, then turned back to her notebook. "Alright you guys go back to practicing now, thanks!"

"Wait, have you got something?" Sherlock asked, putting down his guitar and approaching (name), who flashed the page to him.

"Just the first line. It's all subject to change," she said as Sherlock took the notebook from her hand "Thoughts?"

"It's not bad.." He muttered "Where'd the sudden burst of inspiration come from?"

Taking the book back, she shut it before explaining "I realised what we were missing."

"Which is..?" James said

"I know this might sound a little nerdy, but if we incorporate elements of traditional classical music and 19th century themes, we might have out own little USP and get famous in no time." (Name) explained

"As much as that sounds cool, I don't think they played electric guitar in the eighteen hundreds."

"Don't worry about that," The (hair colour)-ette insisted, stretching her arms "Did you go to that shop I told you to after you nearly got us kicked out when we were in town yesterday?"

"Which shop?" Sherlock asked cluelessly.

Groaning, (name) stood up walking out with her hands in the pockets of her jacket "Never mind then. God you lot really are hopeless without me.."

James followed after her, throwing on his coat because British weather meant rain in the middle of summer. "Wait, where're you going now?"

"Taking a shopping break, now hurry up or we'll miss the bus and have to stand out in the rain for another 15 minutes for the next one." She said, nodding her head to the exit of the abandoned art studio and unfolding a black umbrella.

~

"I thought you went here yesterday, why are you here again?" John asked as the band walked into Qs again, empty as usual.

(Name) combed her fingers through her (hair colour) hair "I was meant to take a new amp as a package deal from Herder yesterday but I told him I'd come back for it another time. I couldn't carry that thing by myself so I figured I'd get it now then go to the place I was telling you about."

It wasn't surprising that the band were quite childish and daresay, mischievous, in public settings. At Herder's it was much worse than trying to kidnap a mannequin (which Sherlock and James had tried to do a few months ago at a local shopping mall. They were banned now though. As you can see, they have quiet the habit of getting banned from public spaces.) The band would often come in, solely to mess around with various instruments, even if they couldn't play them.

In fact, Von Herder had tried to shut Q on weekends and any time that the Band would be available outside of school hours just so he wouldn't have to deal with them, but he stopped because John convinced him not to, they were close after all, considering John was one of the few people who could ever listen to him ramble about instruments and the process of creating them.

Within seconds of opening Q's doors, Sherlock and James had already ran to the Basses and Guitars like little children in a toy store.

"(Name)! Look at this cool guitar!" James called out to her, but she shook her head, instead standing by the counter, waiting for Von Herder to come back out.

"I'll be there in a second, just need to talk to Herder and get my new amp," She said, tapping her fingertips against the counter.

"I swear to you, Albert, the piano has something wrong with it's keys!"

"Are you sure your own abilities aren't to blame?"

She heard talking behind the door.

"You're always like this.. no wonder you chose to stay with father," the first voice scoffed

Three individual voices.

"Now, now, Mr William, I'm sure we can find the issue, right, Albert?" The third voice said

"Mother's birthday is coming up, I need to be able to play something for her, and it can't be all wobbly, or else I might sound like an armature." The first voice said again "Of course, though, you'd never care, brother. You didn't come to Mother's last birthday because of work or some other pathetic excuse. Those orphans have turned you against your real family, once again."

'One german and two tories, probably..' (Name) thought to herself. Of course, she did know that you couldn't determine one's political status based solely on their accents, but seriously, they sounded like aristocrats or something. One of the posh voices was more whiney and annoying, but it sounded like a boy her age, so not exactly childish. The other was more stern and authoritative, likely older at that.

The door swung open, and Herder appeared in front of two young men who were stood in the back. "Oh, (Name)! There you are," The German smiled, then frowned, somewhat nervously. "Are you...alone..?"

"Unfortunately not," She laughed. "I'll make sure James doesn't break a bass string again, don't worry."

Herder seemed to narrow his eyes behind his blindfold. "I should hope so," He said coldly "You're all lucky I don't charge for all the accidents you and that band of you have caused..now let's see, where did I put that amp.."

He crouched down to look beneath the counter, feeling around until (Name) heard a muffled "Aha!" to signify he had found it. While he was crouched, (Name) managed to get a better look at the two young men who were speaking, almost arguing, earlier.

One was wearing a smart suit, his brown hair combed back and his bright green eyes shining with the reflecting of the light, and a younger man, possibly a little older than (Name), stood beside him. They had similar facial structures, but their features differed. Instead, the younger boy had dirty blond hair and brown eyes, but not plain brown. It was more of a hazel shade, bordering on dark red. They were still talking in regards to a piano, but a little quieter now.

Von Herder stood back up, sliding a box across the counter to (Name). "It's a little bit heavy, but I'm sure you could get a friend of yours to help you carry it home." He said, nodding his head to where Sherlock, John and James stood. "Schönen Tag noch!"

"Erm.. Herder, can I ask you something..?" (Name) asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. Von Herder nodded in response, curious "You know when I was here yesterday.. That guy playing the piano..do you know him..?"

"Oh? William? Yes I do." He said

(name) shook her head, assuming he was referring to the dirty blond with his brother. "No, sorry, I mean the one here yesterday..?" She repeated.

"Yes, I know. That was William."

'Clearly this is not going anywhere..nevermind then..' (Name) thought to herself

"Right.." She muttered, giving up her pursuit of the stranger from yesterday. "Thanks for the amp, Herder." She said, picking up the box by it's little plastic handles and walking over to the rest of the band with a disappointed sigh.

"What's up with you?" Sherlock asked, raising a brow.

"It's nothing, just that this box is so damn heavy.." said (Name). She looked back at where Herder was stood, alongside the two posh guys. "Who are they? I don't think Herder's let anyone go behind the counter before. He freaks out when people test out the instruments, for god's sake."

John perked up "Oh them? The taller one," He gestured to the brunette "That's Albert. Herder runs this place but it's owned by him. He seems quite wealthy so I wouldn't be surprised if he owned most of the places here. The other one's his brother but I hear they don't talk much. That's the second time he's been here by the looks of it."

(Name) blinked at him. "Never took you for gossip, John."

"I'm not..!" He defended "Herder just tells me these things sometimes when he's showing me his newer stuff."

~

"Did we really have to walk here?" Sherlock groaned as (Name) pushed the wooden shop door open, causing a little bell to ring.

"This place is literally only 5 minutes away from Qs, you lazy fuck." (Name) said. "And the rain stopped so there's really no excuse, stupid."

The shop, a sign reading "Moneypenny's boutique" at the top, covered in various flowers, roses, lilies, carnations, was on the edge of a road branching off of the main road. There was a few passersby but none actually entering the little vintage boutique. In the tinted, delicate windows were displays of dresses and suits and blouses and corsets and coats. The exterior was painted a mahogany colour and the words on the sign were written in gold.

As the bell rang, a woman with very straight, auburn hair, cut short to just under her chin, walked out from behind a doorway of vertical blinds. Her pale face was painted with subtle freckles around her nose. Her bangs covered her forehead and her brown eyes were shielded by a pair of large glasses. She wore a scarf around her neck, despite the humid weather, and a white blouse under a jacket. Simply put, she looked like she had just time travelled from the 19th century into present day.

"Moneypenny!" (Name) greeted "It's been a while, huh?"

The woman smiled "It's nice to see you again, (Name)." She looked at the three confused men stood behind her "Are these the..?"

"The band? Yeah." She confirmed

The quiet woman, now known to the others as "Moneypenny", gave a polite smile. "(Name)'s told me alot about you all, please feel free to visit at any time."

(Name) leaned against the counter, humming as she watched Moneypenny put away some fabrics. "The flower thing is new," She said, making small talk "Y'know with the sign..? Did Fred do it? It looks quite nice."

Moneypenny nodded "It is..Fred did it a couple of weeks ago actually. He's helped around a little more considering it's the holidays."

"Right, that makes sense.." (Name) trailed off, looking back at the band as James mouthed a 'What the fuck are we doing here?' to her. (Name) mouthed back 'I'm getting to it.' while her bandmates looked at her in confusion.

"(Name), why are you here?" Moneypenny asked amidst the awkward silence.

(Name) chuckled nervously, standing up straight "What makes you think I didn't just want to pop in, say hi? We're mates, Monepenny, aren't we?"

Moneypenny narrowed her eyes at (Name) skeptically "Well, if you were," she said in her usual quiet voice "You'd be browsing, or making conversation. So?"

(Name) sighed, her forehead resting against her arm as it lay on the counter for a moment. She looked up "Alright fine, but you better promise to hear me out fully." Her friend gave a hesitant nod "So..you know I have this band, obviously, I mean they're right there." She nodded her head to the three young men "Anyways, I've got this concept. It's super cool really, like we're gonna combine classical music, you know like Beethoven and Mozart, piano stuff from a couple of centuries ago, and then merge that with U.K. Rock music." 

Moneypenny hummed although it didn't seem she cared much. She picked up a little box, walking through the little door behind her as (Name) followed, desperate to pitch her idea to her. 

"So I.. erm.. I mean we wondered if we could maybe ask a talented fashion designer for a favour? Someone gracious and kind like you?" She smiled 

"Enough of the flattery, (Name), get to the point." Moneypenny warned with a frown, placing the box on a table covered in scraps of cloth 

"My point is, could you maybe please please please let us borrow some of your very cool pieces to wear?" (Name) pleaded as she followed Moneypenny back to the counter, clearly disinterested "It'll be worth it, I promise-"

"No." 

"Come on, Moneypenny!" (Name) exclaimed "When we get famous, it'll promote this place too! What reason could you have for not agreeing? I thought you said you had faith in the band!" 

Moneypenny pinched her forehead with her thumb and index finger "It's not that, I just think it might take a while for it to be worth it." 

"Yeah but with all these new ideas, the coke-" 

"The Baker Street Boys." Sherlock corrected 

"Whatever," (name) rolled her eyes "With all these new ideas and our improved concept, we can actually be something! Give us half a year and we'll have our first proper concert, a decently sized fanbase and proper management!" 

"My mind's made up, (Name), now unless you're going to buy something, I suggest you go  practice so you can achieve those far fetched goals." Moneypenny stated, her arms folded. 

The door opened with another ring of the bell, revealing a short boy with spiky black hair, holding a flower pot. Moneypenny and (Name) turned their attention to him, both wearing smiles on their faces. 

"Fred!" (Name) greeted, walking towards him "It's been a while, huh."

"(Name)." The boy now known as Fred said. He looked over to the awkward trio of Sherlock, James and John, unlike their rowdy selves. "This is the band, isn't it?" He asked

(Name) nodded "Yeah, but Moneypenny here isn't a big fan of us, she thinks we're going to fail and end up as tramps, living on the streets because we're so talentless and pathetic."

Fred squinted his dark eyes in confusion, muttering a "Huh?" 

"(Name)! That is not what I said!" Moneypenny scolded 

"Yeah you did." she joked "Come on, Freddy, tell Moneypenny we're actually worth a few outfits or so. She doesn't want to lend these talentless hobos anything, even if it could be amazing promotion when we get famous." 

"(NAME)!"

"Fine, fine," (Name) scowled, gesturing to the band to follow her as they walked towards the door. "We'll get out of your hair then, we're leaving!"

A/N: ooh more characters. Y/n's probably barely gonna be in the next chapter to make a little room for our other lead ifykyk. I'll upload a false lovers chapter soon and make a masterlist for this too. I've mostly been writing series stuff instead of oneshots but I'll try to get something sorted soon lol. My computers is kind of acting up and my phone broke so I've been on the edge of insanity recently without a method of escapism lol