#fun fact if you look at this image with a black and white filter on youll get to see what i saw the entire time i was making this

[acaesic]

dylon ⁉️

[laurabenanti]

I got a couple of asks on how I did the text transition in this set. I'm going to explain as best as I can (with image references).

*Disclaimer: this assumes you have a basic understanding of giffing with video timeline, and keyframes. If you're new to keyframes, check out this tutorial by @userpeggycarter before proceeding.

Step 1: Go through, make your gif, color and all that jazz. if you're not familiar with giffing and need a guide, check this one out by @cal-kestis. Be mindful of the number of frames you have, as it is extremely important when keyframing begins. Make sure you have an even number of frames, or you will have an uneven transition. For this gif I'm at 60 frames total, and I'd be careful exceeding 70, as if you need to go back and delete... It just sucks, so be mindful! You'll see my gif and coloring under a group I titled "base" - and I highly recommend putting your gif/coloring/etc. into groups, as it will make the timeline a bit cleaner, and it's a little easier to find everything you need. But when you're done, you should be here:

*Quick note 1: Make sure your gif is in 8-bit mode. If you aren't familiar with bit modes, that is a tutorial for another time. For now, you can change it here:

Step 2.1: Pick your font/placement/etc. I really recommend being 100% on whatever you pick, along with the size. I've encountered problems when I move the font after the fact with alignment, so it's best to look your gif over to ensure you're satisfied. For this set, I went with Figtree, placed dead center.

I want to add to this by saying, thus far, I have found that white is the only color that works for this. I'm playing around with some other options, but black is 100% a no go. If you find a way to get that working, let me know. I'll amend this tutorial.

Photo of text settings, along with where you should be now.

Step 2.2: Since we're transitioning into a new set of words/text, you need to get that text ready as well. Shorten the length of time the first piece of text runs to halfway (I have 60 frames, so I cut it to 30).

Step 2.3: Duplicate your text layer, type your other text. The two texts should show for length of time, as you have an even number of frames, meaning you can divide by 2. Move it over to the end of where the previous text ends. If that makes no sense, it should look like the below: (again, folder for the typography to know where to reference. I have a small organization addiction so.. creator's choice)

*Quick note 2: I do not recommend changing to a new font or size with this, it won't look quite right. Of course, experiment away! This is just a small caution based on my own experimentation.

Now, to get to the actual fun part...

Step 3.1: Duplicate the first text layer. For this gif, it's the one that says "it didn't change anything". Once you duplicate it, you'll be turning it into a smart object. This is so the filter we apply works. Repeat for the second text layer. Lil gif below:

Quick note 3: I recommend going one text bit at a time, and also would tell you to put each typography layer into its own folder. This is really important for later, so doing it earlier is better.

Step 3.2: We will now apply the filter. To do this, you're going to click the smart object version of our text, then go to Filter → Stylize → Wind. For the gifset I made, I used Method → Blast and Direction → From the Right. Click "OK" and the filter will apply. Duplicate this for the other text layer.

Step 4: We now begin the keyframing. I highly recommend the rule of 0.3, which is when your transitions are over the span of multiples of 3 (i.e. if you start at frame 1 with 100% opacity, frame 3 will be at 0%). We'll be doing 6 frames from 100% to 0%, and vice versa, for this transition. This was the best time I found for this transition, but it's a matter of preference. Just follow that rule of 3.

Step 4.1: Click the smart layer of the text we made on the timeline, then click the little arrow on the left of the name of the layer. You'll see this:

See the little clock next to Opacity? Click it, and you get this lovely little yellow diamond. This is how we control the visibility of the Wind layer. It will start at 100%, keep it there.

Click the arrow on the right of the play button 6 times (aka get to the 6th frame), click the stopwatch again. While on this frame, and the yellow diamond clicked, change the opacity of the Wind layer to 0% It'll look like this:

You will repeat this, in reverse, at the end of the text layer.

Quick note 4: Sometimes, Photoshop is moody. To get the diamond on frame 30 (or whatever frame # the end of your text layer is), put it on the frame prior. You can then nudge that diamond over 1 frame. See below:

Repeat the process for the other text layer.

Step 5: We're basically done! Change your gif from video timeline to frames, maybe do a quick play through to make sure all is well.

Quick note 4 (it's the last one I promise): I have heard from many that when they work with keyframes, they end up with duplicate frames. I, personally, have not encountered this issue. I do not know if it is because of the version of Photoshop others are using, PC vs. Mac, or some other secret third thing. I recommend that, when you check your gif, verify if there are duplicate frames. The keyframe tutorial I linked earlier goes into further detail, and here is another lovely explanation from Nik, the master of all things keyframe transitions.

Step 5.1: Export, and give yourself a high five because you deserve it.

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to reach out! I'll try to clarify anything if needed. Happy giffing!

[vidreview]

VIDREV: "The Biggest Lie in Hollywood | Technicolor" by NationSquid.

[originally posted june 15th 2024]

i'm just going to be honest right here at the start so we're all on the same page: i do not think this is a particularly good video. it is by no means bereft of redeeming qualities, but those qualities are massively overshadowed by this essayist's reliance on assumptions, generalizations, and outright bad information. in this review i'm going to talk about both the good and the bad, but understand that i'm not interested in being mean for the sake of meanness, nor am i here to bully or make fun of anyone. at time of writing this video has 90,000+ views, and NationSquid's channel has 390,000+ subscribers. with an audience of that size, i think some measure of critical scrutiny is warranted.

"The Biggest Lie in Hollywood" is about the history of color film in general, and the development of the 3-strip Technicolor process specifically. the "lie" in question is the idea that Technicolor films are truly "in color," because technically they were shot in black and white. this is true by a dictionary's standards, and to NationSquid's credit he does a good job explaining the process that led him to this conclusion. with Technicolor, three strips of monochrome film are shot with red/blue/green filters in front of each; when developed, those monochrome film strips are then dyed cyan/magenta/yellow; when projected on top of each other, the result is the "appearance" of full-spectrum color, despite the fact that no color information was captured on set. basically: Technicolor films aren't "in color" because they weren't shot on color film.

it would be very easy to spend the bulk of this review hammering on that specific technicality. first of all, color information was captured on set. you have three different monochrome frames capturing the relative luminance of a scene as shot through three colored gels. yes, technically even after the dying process those three frames are still monochrome… but they're monochromes in three different hues. it's not a "trick" or an optical illusion that they reproduce color when combined, it's just how light and color work. NationSquid insists several times that this is proof that Technicolor films aren't "in color," that it's actually "your eyes tricking you," but that just is not true. the process is irrelevant; if the end result appears to your eyes to be "in color", then it is definitionally in color. his later furtherance of this supposed presentational deception through the lens of a CRT's phosphor dots at least has a symbolic case in that, if you look close enough, the image is actually a matrix of red green and blue rather than a "perfect" reproduction. but even then, is an old school superhero comic not "in color" if it uses the Ben Day process? are human beings not really "made of matter" because matter's actually just a collection of atoms?

you get my point. but if that were my only complaint, i wouldn't be writing this review. bold assertions aside, his explanation of how technicolor works is generally pretty good. he even reproduces the process through still photography, then later again in CRT video to believably insert himself into an episode of The Brady Bunch. this is cool! i like it when essayists do this! there is a level of technical knowledge here that's impressive and effective. but his faulty thesis carries water for dozens of tiny generalizations that range from odd to annoying to revisionist to outright falsehood. for example, early on he confidently says "you probably think The Wizard of Oz was hand-painted frame by frame to be in color," thus setting up this video as debunking a "popular misconception" that i've never heard anyone say in my entire life, and on this particular subject i've been paying attention for a long time. this moment has the air to me of a formative personal experience from one's youth (ie thinking Oz's color was hand-painted before learning about Technicolor) being misconstrued as an obvious universal experience. could be wrong, but that's my gloss. this is something everyone does sometimes, but your writing is stronger when you pause to reflect on these personal connections any time one makes it into a script to make sure it actually holds up to scrutiny. consider that a running theme of this review.

before we even hit the one minute mark, NationSquid bafflingly states that "no matter how immersive [B&W films] were, absolute suspension of disbelief was never possible. there was always one thing missing… color." it's an easy enough statement to let roll over you when you're still trying to get your bearings through the introduction. it feels like a dangerously impetuous way to start, but lord knows sometimes you gotta oversimplify to write through the opening minutes efficiently. hell, sometimes you even put such flags in as a deliberate trap-- you know, play towards an easy conventional conclusion only to critically re-evaluate it with a more nuanced one later on. i did as much in my recent video about the Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Specials, where i spent significant time praising the show's practical effects before circling back around later to highlight the essential role that digital effects play even in practical effects-heavy productions, and how often we throw digital effects workers under the bus in our haste to praise practicals. now, i personally find the idea that color or lack thereof has any bearing on "suspension of disbelief" to be totally nonsensical, but whatever, sometimes you say wack shit to get where you want to go, and that's probably not even really what the video is about anyway… is certainly what i hoped. but after about thirteen minutes of generally pretty good technical process explanation, the video then jumps into a crash course on early film history which, uh, leaves some things to be desired.

he talks about B&W film as possessing a "degree of separation" which allows viewers to console themselves that everything on screen is make-believe. by lacking the color dimension, you see, B&W denaturalizes its subject and makes it feel less real. perhaps there's an argument to be made there, except NationSquid frames it as though the B&W film experience is inherently less affective due to the absence of color. he never says as much directly, but his conclusion sure seems to be that our experience of media today is qualitatively more nuanced and sophisticated than it was 50 years ago, that people today feel more deeply, experience more vividly the contours of a film's world when it is in color. consider the following paragraph:

It's much easier to watch footage of the Vietnam War in black and white, because it makes the events feel further away. "This is a whole other world, it couldn't happen to me." if you met Elvis in person, you'd probably faint. I would probably faint. But instead, you can watch him in the comfort of your own home. Film and television allow you to feed into your curiosity of what is being shown on screen without the consequences, and with black and white it was even moreso. And it's this exact frame of thinking that allowed black and white pictures to serve as their own form of art in the film world, which prolonged its dominance over color.

citation needed. citation needed. citation needed. if B&W footage of the Vietnam War made it feel further away, how do you explain the massive student protest movements that helped get the draft rescinded and end the war? do people today seem any less prone to distancing themselves from contemporary wars now that their coverage is in color? what "consequences" are we avoiding by watching film and television-- as opposed to what, literally meeting Elvis Presley the man in real life? where's the relevant profundity in pointing out that these are different experiences? is media duplicitous for not bombing us in real life when we watch footage of a bombing? and how is B&W "even moreso" prone to this consequence-free affect when it comes from a time when virtually all film and television was B&W, including all the same kinds of essential journalism we have today? i just want to take a big red pen to that last sentence. what do you mean by "frame of thinking"? what do you mean by "form of art"? what mechanism, precisely, do you think allowed B&W to "prolong" its dominance?

elsewhere there is a discussion of how silent film evolved towards sound and color. nominally this is meant as a comparison point for how other major technological transitions were received, opening the door for what should be an interesting discussion of artistic epistemology. i know that it should be interesting because this era is a special interest of mine, which is why i can't let it slide that NationSquid namedrops Cecil B. Demill and DW Griffith as "innovating the landscapes" of silent cinema (????) and then moves on as if the matter is settled. here's a protip for all you aspiring video essayists out there: if your essay is all about correcting a "popular misconception," make sure you do at least a cursory investigation of all your other inherited conceptions first just in case you're missing an opportunity to add more nuance and context to your discussion. it's not even that Demill and Griffith are unimportant figures, but rather that saying their names alone in 2024 without mentioning, say, Mary Pickford, Dorothy Arzner, Alice Guy Blaché, or any one of the hundreds of women who dominated and defined silent cinema betrays a shallow wikipedia-level understanding of the history at best. you only bring those two up when they're the only two you know about, and at that point you should probably just gloss over the subject entirely for both our sakes.

when discussing the problems of phonograph records desyncing from silent films, NaionSquid hits you with a one-two punch that made me shout out loud in the privacy of my own office:

phonograph records were already popular when silent films were a thing. hell, the technology itself even predates film. i mean, technically, silent film should've never existed in the first place.

what's he saying here? is he saying that because records were a popular media format, no other formats should've emerged? is he saying that it's weird B&W film became popular since records already existed? or is he saying that film should've never been silent because we could have just used records to add sound? the chain of logic he lays out here is strained and confusing, and the succeeding lines provide little clarity. it's weak argumentative writing, a basic undergrad-level "many people say" type approach that permeates this whole middle portion of the essay. on its own, if you lack domain knowledge, you might be able to accept this chain of logic. but me, the special interest haver, the film school goer, i hear all this and i can't help but wonder why he's neglected to mention that silent films usually shipped with bespoke sheet music, and that movie houses employed dedicated musicians to perform them? anyone with more than a few hours of knowledge on silent film will tell you that "silent" is a misnomer, as it was rarely if ever experienced "silently" by the audience. one could, if they were in the mood, connect this to the monochromatic nature of Technicolor and explore how our experience of media is historically contingent to the material reality of extant transformative processes. instead, NationSquid leaves this context out, and the absence screams of well-intentioned ignorance. it indicates a narrow engagement with history that contradicts his philosophical confidence, which is nominally what English classes exist to beat out of you. these are the sorts of over-generalizations that are acceptable in a classroom where you're meant to be learning how to argue, but quickly become dangerous and misleading when they're confidently presented without review to a large audience for profit.

this is not a problem specific to NationSquid, and indeed, many in his comments share my criticisms. i picked this video because i think it's an excellent example of a broader problem that is by no means new, but certainly made worse by contemporary technology and economics. it is extraordinarily easy to presume yourself an expert, and there's only money to be made in pushing forward as fast and as often as possible. my videos take forever to make because i spend a lot of time fine-tuning the script, which is admittedly disastrous for my bottom line and certainly i could stand to speed things up in that regard, be a little less perfectionist, but the fact remains: in the current political economy of digital media, ignorance is profitable because it's easy and there's no one whose job is to say "now hold on, can you elaborate on this point please?"

there are just so many frustrating, unqualified assertions. he comes around to talking about nostalgia for B&W film and people's experiences of it, saying "The printing process, projectors, and screens that were used at the time just weren't as good as they are now." citation needed! "Black and white was just tolerated because of its cost effectiveness." citation needed!! "In other words Technicolor "looks older" because you were watching it on older technology back then" BUT I'M WATCHING IT ON MODERN TECHNOLOGY NOW AND IT STILL LOOKS VERY DIFFERENT! CITATION NEEDED!!!

he talks about people "tolerating" B&W film, as if everyone was just sitting around like "yeah Casablanca is cool and all, but it'd be better if it was in color." what is this technological determinist nonsense? who in their own time gets hung up on the absence of a technology that doesn't exist? what do you say of Civil War photography, WWI newsreels, the liberation of fucking Dachau, that it's experientially lesser for being B&W? imagine someone saying 2D film is less "immersive" than 3D and that people merely "tolerated" 2D because it was more cost effective. they'd be laughed out of the room! (unless they're James Cameron in 2007, but none of us are or ever will be again.) people use the technology available to them based on the economic and political conditions of the moment in which they're available. yes, B&W was dominant because it was exceedingly inexpensive compared to color film, but what filmmaker saw that as an abject hindrance? the canvas is your canvas, you work with what you have. yes, theorists argued B&W's superiority over color on aesthetic grounds, just as they argued that silent film was superior to the talkies. but such theorizing was secondary, it was a reaction to and commentary on extant conditions over which they had little to no control. people rationalize the times they find themselves in. we tell stories, and then we tell stories about how we told those stories, and then other people interpret what the stories about our stories tell us about the stories that we told. we are human beings and our experience of art runs soul-deep no matter the medium, no matter the spectrum of senses it encompasses-- if the art hits, it hits. we did not "tolerate" the absence of color, nor was B&W "less immersive" or less friendly to "suspension of disbelief." if it seems so today, that's only because color film has been naturalized and B&W made the novelty. by such ham-fisted terms, you shouldn't be able to suspend your disbelief reading a book because words imperfectly recreate the experience they're meant to evoke. no, see, The Wizard of Oz isn't actually in color, because at one point the film stock was B&W. what do you MEAN this map isn't the territory?! manager, i've been duped!!

and perhaps none of this is intentional. if i were to ask NationSquid if he believes in any of the conclusions i've extrapolated here, chances are he'd give an emphatic no. this is what i mean by "well-intentioned ignorance." it's the easiest thing in the world to skate by on an argument that feels sound to you because it maps to your own understanding of the subject. "it doesn't sound wrong to me, so it's probably not wrong, yeah?" you include single-sentence generalizations that are "basically true" because you read them or heard them somewhere at some point, and you know your source is good so if anyone calls you on it you can be like "well here's what i meant." but the more you rely on these half-remembered quasi-truths, the more your rhetorical scaffolding reveals itself to be unfit for the job of supporting your argument. at that point, all the plausible deniability in the world can't save you from yourself. it stops being about whether you're "right" or "wrong," and becomes something far more elemental and difficult to prove: did you do the work? did you sit with your script and scrutinize it, line by line and without ego, even for just a few minutes? a good essayist knows what they don't know, and educates themself when the opportunity arises (or otherwise omits the topic entirely to avoid looking like an ass to someone with actual domain knowledge). it's impossible to avoid making mistakes in this free-for-all media landscape where editors and peer review are a thing of the past. but this does not abdicate you of the responsibility you have to perform due diligence for the sake of not misinforming your audience, nor does it give you an excuse to presume that you in this moment already know everything you need to know. you don't need to be trying to deceive someone in order to be deceptive. it can just as easily happen as the result of laziness.

anyway, that's this review.

[skiel-infinity]

hey! this is chance & here’s the prompt for week 6. what are your oc's bedrooms like? messy? neat? carefully designed? or a collection of their favorite things? you can verbally describe or use photos, whatever you think is best.

I have a very specific image in mind of Hazel's room but I'd have to draw it since I can't for the life of me find an image that does it justice for reference. So I'll just have to verbally describe it the best way I can.

Hazel does her best to make her room look like something straight out of a haunted palace somewhere in Europe. Desaturated colour palettes mostly leaning on pinks, whites, greys, and a hint of black.

Has one of those big veiled beds against the back wall in the centre. She has those white translucent curtains shut over the windows but heavy thick black curtains tied up in silver rope.

One wall is lined with a short but wide bookshelf which is lined with various dolls and plushies. There is the occasional doll or toy on the floor.

Through the dim sunlight filtering through the clouds, you can see the hints of pink that are everywhere in the room. But even in full sunlight, it only gets so pink. It almost always looks white or pearl pink at best due to the cloudy climate of the place she lives in.

Fun fact: Hazel also likes to startle visitors by replacing a big porcelain doll in the furthest most left corner of the room from the door... with herself. She'll dress up and sit there. Watching the confused guest wonder why the room is empty but feel like it actually isn't. It's one of Hazel's favourite ways to greet new guests.

[foulcolorbasement]

Experience the Ultimate Selfie Station with a Digital Picture Booth in Stoke

Introduction

In today's electronic age, catching memories https://postheaven.net/cormanukwt/image-photobooth-stoke-where-classic-fulfills-modern-in-picture-perfect has become a crucial part of any kind of event or gathering. Whether it's a wedding, birthday celebration, or business occasion, having an image cubicle adds an element of enjoyable and excitement. And when it concerns experiencing the utmost selfie terminal, nothing defeats a digital picture cubicle in Stoke. With its advanced attributes, interactive user interface, and high-quality prints, a digital image cubicle takes the typical idea of a picture cubicle to a whole brand-new level.

The Rise of Photobooths Stoke Photobooths Stoke: A Brief History

Before we study the world of electronic picture cubicles in Stoke, allowed's take a moment to appreciate the trip that led us right here. The concept of image cubicles goes back to the late 19th century when they were presented as coin-operated machines that generated immediate photos. Over the years, these booths evolved from black and white prints to colored ones, and at some point made their means into occasions and parties.

Embracing Innovation: The Digital Picture Cubicle Revolution

With developments in technology and the increase of social networks, typical image cubicles began integrating digital attributes. This gave birth to the digital picture cubicle change-- a pattern that rapidly obtained popularity due to its ability to record high-resolution pictures, supply modification options, and give immediate sharing on social platforms.

Unleashing Fun with Photobooths Stoke Capturing Unforgettable Minutes: The Power of an Image Booth

One of the main reasons that individuals enjoy having an image booth at their occasions is the possibility to record remarkable minutes. Whether it's striking a position with close friends or relative or just goofing around with props, an image booth offers an outlet for imagination and spontaneity. It enables guests to let loosened and enjoy while creating long-term memories.

Customization Galore: Customize Your Picture Booth Experience

One of the standout attributes of an electronic image cubicle in Stoke is the capability to customize your experience. From custom backgrounds and overlays to themed props and filters, there are countless options to make your images distinct and tailored to your event. Whether you're holding a wedding celebration or a company celebration, you can create a cohesive look and feel that straightens with your theme or branding.

Interactive Fun: Involve Your Visitors with Interesting Features

Gone are the days when photo booths were merely restricted to taking images. With an electronic picture cubicle in Stoke, you can involve your visitors with interactive features that elevate the total experience. From GIF creation and boomerangs to enhanced fact impacts and environment-friendly screen backgrounds, there's no lack of amusement choices for your guests to enjoy.

FAQs concerning Photobooths Stoke Q: Just how does a digital photo cubicle work? A: A digital picture booth operates utilizing sophisticated software application and hardware components. Guests can step inside the cubicle, select their wanted setups, strike a position, and promptly get high-grade prints or electronic copies. Q: Can I tailor the prints with my occasion's branding?

[themostdeadlybubblez]

The Elements of Color by Johannes Itten

SO......for this week's reading I will be discussing the elements that make up color.

There are several different kinds of color contrast such as:

Contrast of hue

2. Light-Dark contrast

3. Cold-Warm Contrast

4. Complementary Contrast

5. Simultaneous Contrast

6. Contrast of Saturation

7. Contrast of Extension

HERE WE GO...

Contrast of hue

Is the easy to represent, because all it requires is undiluted colors in their most vibrant hue.

This is also one of the most represent in folk art because its use of decor. Having vibrant colors next to each other, helps expression the various brilliance of different hues.

Light-Dark Contrast

Dramatic...is an understatement in describing light-dark contrast. By using black, white, and grays in between them can make a beautiful art-piece.

You can also use chromatic grays with correct shading to achieve a depth engaging piece.

Fun fact European and Asian regions tend to use this contrast the most (or at least had).

Cold-Warm Contrast

This one is easy to grasp to at least I think about the ways that weather channels or geographical channels show hotness/coldness or mountains/water.

It is kind of weird to think of colors in relation to degrees. Though as humans we like to associate colors with our senses, so with colors we can image how hot/cold that color would be.

SO, when creating a piece, we can manipulate our audience in feeling cold in a "hot" desert or hot in "artic water" by the way we use our colors.

Complementary Contrast

Who knew that colors can make other colors if they are used correctly. Based on the two colors they can make browns, chromatic grays, and even whites.

They can make a color have good depth without having to add black or white (muddying the colors).

Simultaneous Contrast

To get this effect to work you have to follow the guidelines in complementary colors. A color can appear lighten or darker based on the color.

In some cases, the gray can look like the complementary of the original color being tested on. It's like an illusion but in reality, it's almost like looking through colors filters and seeing more colors than others.

Contrast of Saturation

It's like looking at an old box tv compared to looking at a new 4k tv. Technology has allowed more saturation to be accurately show because it can actually process that color.

Essential you can break down the vibrance of a color until it becomes gray. These can help you figure out grays or other colors that can add to your painting.

Contrast of Extension

You know how stars compare to the night sky. That essentially is what this means, the relation between colors and size.

Sometimes a color can be shown once and is small (like a red dot on black paper). Typically, you are drawn to the red dot because it is more vibrant and catches you eye better than the black.

That is all Folks........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

See ya next time!

[thirstybtsthoughts]

What do you think are bts' sexiest (horniest😂) songs, lyric wise? 😃

There aren’t many, and some of these can be interpreted differently or more innocently, but allow me to provide a list with examples (and some of my silly annotations, sorry!) 😏:

Pied Piper

You're not being punished - oh am I not? Okay sir 😈 Come here, I'm your paradise - sure I will  Can't close your eyes Can't close your eyes You can throw a fit but it's no use (Don't reject me)

It's a bit dangerous but I'm so sweet - I’d like a taste of that sweetness I'm here to save you, I'm here to ruin you - this line ughhhh 🥴🥴

My pipe awakens everything - ‘pipe’ huh? 🍆😏 That sound burns you up even more You're pulled by it, you react I'm endlessly blowing - ‘blowing’ 😏 I'm your guilty pleasure - yes you are indeed You can't escape Never

Yeah, I'm a bit dangerous I can't even handle myself Don't worry, my hands They're only warm for you - UMMMM HELLOOOOO, Jungkook, I will take your warm hands all over me please and thank you 😁

War of Hormone

Girls are like an equation, us guys just do them... - Yep, this one line says it all, the fact it was 18 year old JK’s line too adjhjfldjk 🥴

I don’t care about girls I’ll play with once and say goodbye - Oop, enough said 🤭

But I learn when I see you, Body 101 

My testosterone heavily shows up...

Her hair, body, waist, legs, even her other unspeakable parts 

Saying I don’t care would be ridiculous as a guy 

I lose it just at her tiniest gestures... - Okay so yes the whole point of this song is about teenage guys hormones being all over the place when they see a hot girl, but you asked for sexy lyrics, and here’s a song that provides 😁

Cypher Part 3

Suga - Like you all know my voice turns people on Whether it be men or women My flexible tongue movements will send them to Hong Kong with my raps - fun fact, the phrase ‘send them to Hong Kong’ means to make a person climax. Therefore, Yoongi is saying he can make people cum with his tongue 😁.  

Cypher Part 2

Suga - My voice even bewitches your girlfriend - yep, I’m bewitched 

Miss Right

RM - Your sexy mind and your sexy body - yesss You were even born with sexy brain wrinkles - YES Just in jeans, a white tee and converse high tops That makes me wanna party on your body -YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS At the end of of your long, shiny hair Your gentle hips sing 

Suga - With you, I draw out my future,  In between our couple shoes are a pair of baby sneakers - I LOVE this line, makes me swoon so hard 🥰. The implication that he wants babies (in the world of this song) just sets my heart racing 🥰🥰

Converse High

When you look all flashy with your black stockings - he’s thinking about a girl in stockings 😏 And your high heels, that’s just a lie But you look better with Jordan numbers Ha, don’t you know? Converse kill your charms Anyway, when you meet me, don’t wear Converses It’s too hard to take them off of you - Oh really Min Yoongi???!!! hmm😏😏

Agust D

Sending listeners to Hong Kong with my rap My tongue technology - ICONIC (see Cypher Pt 3 above)

I Like it Pt 2

The memories draw me back, your hair from behind - this is likely far from dirty, but to me and my dirty mind it drew the image of him remembering fucking the girl from behind, he’s thinking about the way her hair looked during it 😏

(Honourable mentions to Trouble and Expensive Girl 😁, also Filter and Blood, Sweat and Tears😁)

Side note: I love how most of the above are Yoongi lines 🥵

Also note that this ask was about sexy lyrics, not song/beat, hence why there is no Singularity or House of Cards here 🥺😂

[whatislove-bambi]

Oops... (I Love You)!

Snow White AU

Summary: Taehyung is the fairest of them all in the Land of Fairytales. He’s tall, handsome and his features make even the Goddess of Love swoon. His best friend (his mirror), tells him day in and out just how he is the most beautiful in all the Lands… until today.

+++

Or how Seokjin has had enough of Taehyung’s vain ass and decides to tell a - in hindsight - terrible lie. How then Jin realizes he effed up because Taehyung is going to murder an innocent person for their beauty…

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Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Genre: angst, fantasy, fluff, crack?, smut

Contents/Warnings: smut!, strangers to lovers, enemies(?) to lovers, magic gone wrong, Big Dick Tae, evil!Tae, lowkey possessive!Tae, impregnation kink, soft!Tae, cunnilingus, fingering, breath play, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play (tiny), underwear kink, huge amounts of cum, fairytale happenings

Words: 19k. 

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We begin our story in the Land of Fairytales.

The land is rich with green and wealth, the inhabitants healthy and happy. Their ruler is a beautiful one. Tall, handsome, features chiseled so well that even the Gods and Goddess’ swoon when they see him.

His name is Kim Taehyung, the sole heir to the throne by his passing parents, the previous King and Queen of the land. You see, before they passed, they had urged him to find a suitable lover to marry, but Taehyung was stubborn. No one could meet his expectations - no one could rival his beauty. And so, his parents eventually gave up the notion of their son ever marrying, leaving him the only ruler and heir of the kingdom.

Taehyung didn’t have many friends either, always looking down on them and barking orders when neighbouring princes or princesses tried to make his cold heart melt.

Nonetheless, this did not faze Taehyung. All he needed was himself, his beauty, and his magic mirror.

But like every fairytale, we begin happily only to come upon a conflict for our handsome ruler.

+++

The room was white: walls, ceiling, even the stained glass only filtered in light that made the room brighter — whiter.

Taehyung walked up the steps leading him to his most prized and loved object of all.

Seeing his face reflected back at him, he smirked cockily before speaking, “oh mirror of great wisdom and insight, I summon thee!”

Alright, here we go.

Jin wasn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s been cursed. Cursed to be a stupid mirror… or stuck inside one. Anyways.  

Sighing, his face appeared in the reflective surface, meeting the gaze of his only companion in all the years he’s been isolated - until precisely some years ago, when Taehyung was exploring a cave and found Jin’s mirror hidden away with other jewels and gold. But the young heir only had eyes for him, so he plucked him up and now here he hangs, alone and covered in bright light until he is needed or summoned for the King’s daily dose of narcissism.

“Yes, O’ Great One, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jin asks, sarcasm heavily lacing his tone.

Taehyung lifts a thick eyebrow, but makes no remarks. “How is that nearby Prince doing?”

“You mean Prince Jimin?”

“Yes, that prick.”

Jin scoffs. “He isn’t a prick. He’s a real nice guy, gave a bunch of money to a poor village down by the Island of the Mere.”

Taehyung wasn’t even listening - this brat!

Said King, was examining his nails, a bored expression on his handsome face. God, how Jin could stare all day at it and still want to claw his eyes out at the same time.

“Ahem,” Jin hisses, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

Taehyung flicked his gaze upward disinterestedly. Running a hand through his newly permed, black locks, he rotated his shoulder blades back to release tension in his muscles. “Right. So… mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

Jin crossed his arms, his patience thinning. Okay, so he was cursed like lifetimes ago and was trapped inside a mirror. He only had his own thoughts to keep him company until someone found his mirror and someone always found it. But once Jin appeared to greet them, they all freaked out and threw his mirror back in the trash. Until Taehyung. Which is why he tries to have never-ending patience and tolerance for this punk.

Taehyung had found him before the previous Royal rulers’ passing. He was still young, still cocky, but there was something sad and melancholic to him. He was exploring and upon finding the mirror, Taehyung fell in love and decided to keep it. When Jin appeared to him, Taehyung didn’t scream or run or throw the mirror out, instead, he sat down and talked with him. The first person to speak to Jin in years - lifetimes.

So while Jin finds certain personality quirks of the present King to be irritating, he is also fond of the poor man. After all, it must be pretty awful to be trapped within the castle walls, refusing to let down both his, figurative and actual walls and live life; only believing himself to be the most wonderful of them all.

“Are you deaf? I asked you a question,” Taehyung snaps.

Jin’s smile slips and he feels annoyance bubble.

Okay, screw it, fucking Kim Taehyung.

“What was your question again—“

“Who is the fairest of them all?” Taehyung cuts off bluntly.

Jin takes a deep breath, unable to hide his growing frustration. Technically there is no one who is fairest of them all. Sure, fair there are plenty, but the only one? That’s crazy talk! And Jin is stuck in a goddamn’ mirror! How he wishes to be able to make said man’s facade break - even for a moment…

An idea flashes into his mind and he grins deviously.

Clearing his throat, he puts on his best theatric voice. “Famed is thy beauty, King. But hold, a lovely maid I see. Rags cannot hide her gentle grace. Alas,” Jin searches until finally, finally he finds the perfect one for his perfect plan. “she is more fair than thee.”

It is so satisfying to see Taehyung’s stoic face crack. Something flickers in his eyes, his lips curling downwards in distaste and he crosses his arms like a petulant child.

Jin brings a hand over his mouth to cover the smile from forming. This is the best prank yet!

“Alas for her,” Taehyung all but growls, his deep voice suddenly deeper. “Reveal her name.”

Jin clears his throat, putting forth the act once more. “Lips red as rose. Hair black as ebony. Skin white as snow. Her name is Y/N.”

Taehyung’s gaze hardens if possible. “Who is she?”

Jin waves his hand nonchalantly and the image appears before the King.

Okay, her lips are not red as rose, in fact, they’re kinda chapped from how she keeps biting them in frustration, trying to scrub a stain off a dirtied plate. Her dark hair is pulled up and her skin is glistening with sweat and washing water, nowhere near as white as snow. But she’ll do - at least until Jin can tell Taehyung it’s just a silly joke and that she’s a peasant who doesn’t mean much.

She’s young, likely around Taehyung’s age, but unlike the royal highness’ luxurious beauty, she’s got her arms, elbow-deep, inside a wash basin, cleaning up dirty plates, the dirty water splashing onto her soiled apron.

Really, if Taehyung was smart, he’d notice she’s nothing like what Jin had said. But Taehyung is blinded by rage, something that Jin misses.

A moment of tense silence passes before —

“T-this wench is the fairest of them all?!” Taehyung roars.

Jin jumps. Oh wait, shit, why is he so mad?

“I will have her murdered.”

Jin’s jaw drops, unable to hold his horror. “W-wait, Your Majesty - I - this —“

But Taehyung has already turned, his deep blue robes swirling around him as he angrily marches out of the room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

Jin stares, unable to understand what truly just happened. “Oh… what have I done?”

***

Sighing, you place the last of the clean dishes back on their shelves, taking off the disgusting apron and throwing it in the dirty hamper.

“You off for the night, Y/N?” your coworker asks, untying her apron hurriedly.

“Mhm, too tired to do anything else.��

“Wish I could say the same. I have to get home to the kids - the husband will want some quality time together after dinner.”

You chuckle, helping her untie and toss the soiled piece into the hamper as well.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Which is why you, my dear, should get yourself a husband already! The oven doesn’t stay hot forever you know! Get the buns in there while it’s still fresh.”

Your face burns at the comment and you swat at her arm. “Stop it,” you whine.

“Come, let’s walk home together.”

Despite still being embarrassed, you let her drag you from the tiny tavern, bidding your boss goodnight.

***

Stepping out of the tub, you run a towel through your damp hair, your other hand reaching up to swipe a line through the steam in your mirror.

“Which is why you, my dear, should find yourself a husband already!”

You make a face, grabbing a nearby hairbrush to get the knots out. “Who needs a husband,” you mumble. “Men are all trouble…”

“Amen to that, my dear.”

Suddenly, a face appears in your mirror. A handsome face. With eyes that glisten and a smile that should get a million hearts fluttering, but you - you are terrified.

“Holy shit!” you scream, shooting backwards, as far away as you can from the cursed object. You throw your brush at it, watching it bounce off the glass, before searching for something heavier.

“W-WAIT! Wait!” the man shouts, from your mirror. “I come in peace!”

You grip the towel around you tightly, staring at the face before you, your heart thundering.

“Let me not be so in your face,” he chuckles at his own joke, before suddenly, it’s like camera lens, his face is now zoomed out and you see the rest of him. He’s wearing clothes that look royal, a white button-up tucked into dark slacks. “Much better. My name is Seokjin, but you can call me Jin. I am here to protect you—“

“Who the hell are you,” you continue to scream, grabbing the dropped hairbrush as your defensive weapon. “What are you doing in my mirror!?”

Jin frowns at you, clearly annoyed at you interrupting him. “First of all - I said my name is Jin. Jeez, youngsters these days just don’t listen,” he mumbles annoyedly. “Secondly, I can explain that if you just calm down… okay? Just put down the hair tool… there, you go, now take a few deep breaths…”

You do as you’re told before you step cautiously towards the mirror.

“I am here to help you - kind of like a guardian angel. You see, the King of this Land, he’s enraged with you.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Why? I’ve never even met the guy. Ever since his parent’s passing, he’s been cooped up inside his luxurious castle. He doesn’t even show his face at the annual festivals - how could I have enraged him?”

“The King is very… adamant on being the most fairest of them all. And someone,” Jin clears his throat. “Let it slip that it’s you. So he’s going to murder you now.”

Your eyes widen and Jin paces in his space, a pensive look on his face. “But I searched throughout the Land and there’s a cabin not too far from here, uninhabited and spacious enough for you. You could farm the nearby crops, survive there until the King’s delusions are set aside and then—“

A sound cuts Jin off, making his head snap to the side.

Your head is bent forward, face hidden from view. Your shoulders shake and tiny chokes leave you.

Were you crying? Panic seized his heart suddenly.

“L-Listen — I know it looks bad, but I assure you, I will keep you safe—“

Until the noise turned into a snort and then a full on guffaw.

“Oh by the gods,” you gasp, breathlessly. “I’m so tired, I’m imagining things. A talking mirror, the King wanting to murder me - for being the most beautiful in the Land? Ha! This is — it’s crazy! Come on, Y/N, you are so tired that you’re making all this stuff up. Just crazy.”

Jin stares in bewilderment as you leave your bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you, shrouding him in darkness. “Wait! Y/N! Y/N! This isn’t a joke - you’re going to die! He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!”

You huff, quickly drying your damp hair and drowning out your delusions. “Don’t you worry, Y/N, after a good night’s sleep, you’ll be back to normal.”

And with that thought, you jumped into bed and slept soundly soon after.

+++

You arrived at work a little earlier since you were opening the tavern. Slipping into your uniform easily, you start unstacking the chairs, before grabbing a rag to wipe down any uncleanly surfaces.

First the counter, then polishing overnight glasses, pairing cutlery and napkins, all the while, humming around the room. Your last task is to wipe down the mirrors in the diner’s restroom, catching a glimpse of your reflection now that you were almost done your morning tasks.

You hadn’t thought about last night’s events at all, at least not until now. Your reflection shoots back a smile and you chuckle. Who knew you had such an imagination?

“He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!” Jin’s voice echoed in your head, freezing your smile in its place.

Snapping out of your reverie, you shake your head, giving yourself a reassuring nod. “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The King would want nothing with a peasant…” You sigh forlornly, your reflection no longer beaming back at you. You wanted more from this life - more than just a measly wage from wiping down tables and serving drunk pirates or hidden princes and princesses who thought their disguises were actually stealthy.  

Sighing, you turn around, ready to leave the restroom. Not everyone got a fairytale ending, you think bitterly.

However, you fail to notice a pair of eyes watching you.

***

It’s not long after that, that your colleague of the morning shows up, waving you a tired hand as they go to start filling up the alcohol.

Shortly after turning over the sign to “OPEN,” people start entering. It’s a bustling morning, like it usually is.

“Y/N, drinks for the miner!”

“More meat over here!”

“How’ya doin’ doll?”  

“Refills, Y/N!”

The day never stopped. You groaned as you handed out your umpteenth food plate of the morning and poured your millionth cup of stale beer. Sparing a glance at the clock, your eyes lit up. It was break time.

Waving three fingers in the air at the barkeeper, the woman nodded in acknowledgement, before you grabbed something to drink and eat, taking a table closest to the back of the tavern. Here it was less crowded and more quiet, letting you have some alone time.

You take a seat and watch the people around.

Your life was rarely different, always the same things. You wake up, go to work, come home, make dinner, clean, go to sleep. Repeat.

Unconsciously frowning, you stir the straw in your drink. Life was, for a lack of better word, mundane. You didn’t have many friends, just a select few and all from work. They were either much older or younger and no one really near or around your age.

I need some adventure, you think, propping your chin on your hand as you look out the window at the bustling streets.

Suddenly, someone slides into the seat across from you. You stop slurping and stare, eyes wide with surprise.

“Hello,” the newcomer grins, brown hair tousled ever-so-slightly over large, doe-like eyes. He’s grinning at you, looking boyish and handsome.

You blink owlishly, pointing at yourself. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” he laughs.

“Oh - if you’re looking for a waitress, I’m on a break. But the other girls can help you,” you supply. You already regretting talking to him. You only have fifteen minutes every three hours and you didn’t want to waste it on this, no matter how good looking he is.

“Actually,” he begins, his grin faltering as he rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to you, personally. My name’s JK and I think you’re really pretty… do you, um, maybe want to go out sometime?”

Now, you’ve been asked out a couple times before - but certainly never from someone so attractive. Definitely not someone this polite and gentle in courting you. Your mind is reeling at the confession and you just stare at him, speechless.

“M-me?” you ask again, your voice coming out in a whisper.

He laughs, this time showing his teeth and you like his smile. “Yes. I mean, don’t feel pressured to. I just… you’re really pretty and I’m insanely shy so…”

“Sure!” You blurt, before you begin to second-guess and doubt yourself. Your heart flips at the way JK’s smile lights up even more.  

“When’s a good time for you?”

“I, uh, well… I don’t get off until tonight. Actually, I’m working all week,” you frown, rattling off the schedule in your head.

“How ‘bout tonight?”

That catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“Yeah! If it’s not too forward…”

Well… it is. But weren’t you just complaining about adventure earlier? I mean - come on, this guy’s cute! And he likes you!!

Taking a leap of faith, you give in. “Sure! I’m closing the tavern tonight,” you nervously fiddle with your fingers. “Would you be alright to meet me at the back?”

JK chuckles, leaning back and tossing you another boyish smile. “Are you kidding? A girl like you just said yes - of course, I’m not going to care.”

Now, if you were smart and cautious, you would know it doesn’t make sense that a random stranger just came up to you and asked you out abruptly. But you’ve been alone your whole life and no one to teach you about the evils in this world - naivety rolled off of you in waves. You wanted adventure - damn’t! And adventure you were going to get!

“I will see you when the sun sets!”

JK grins, his doe eyes flashing almost predatorily. “Of course, Y/N.”

You beam, going back to your drink with a bright smile while JK waves at you as he leaves the tavern.

You miss two things: one, he never even ordered anything on his way in or out.

Two, you never told him your name to begin with.

***

Stepping out of the empty tavern, you lock up and tuck the keys away into your worn-out bag. Turning around, you face the emptied backlot, confusion on your face. Where’s JK?

“Aren’t you eager.” The voice startles you and you whip around, facing the handsome man with the boyish face and the large, doe-like eyes.

He has a knack of taking you by surprise!

“Ha… you scared me!” JK doesn’t react, only continues to smile at you and you shiver…  from the cold?

“So… where would you like to go?”

Again, JK doesn’t respond. In fact, he merely stands where he is, continually smiling at you.

As naive as you are, you begin to feel uneasy. A moment passes, then another and another. Still, JK doesn’t move from his spot.

“Y/N, you really are quite beautiful.”

You swallow. “O-oh? Is that so? Thank—“

“It’s a shame the King wants you dead.”

Your eyes widen and in that moment, the situation clicks. How stupid you are.

Spinning on your heels, you turn to run, but pain erupts in your skull as you realize JK has grabbed a handful of your hair and is now tugging you back towards him.

“Uh, uh,” he tuts, like he’s talking to a disobedient child. “Stay still. This will be painless if you don’t fight it.”

Adrenaline courses through your veins and you hear your blood pumping loudly. Without thinking, you spin around and bring your leg up, kicking JK in the crotch, catching him off guard. He groans, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly. That’s all you need - you pull free from him and bringing your hand up, punch him in the throat with all your might. A splutter from said man and then you’re sprinting into the woods - hoping to put as much distance between you and him as possible.  

Your soles hit the ground and tree branches blur past you. Your breath is coming out in huffs, it’s getting dark and you’re alone. Footsteps are heard behind you and sparing a glance, your eyes widen at seeing JK’s looming figure catching speed with you. He’s absolutely terrifying in this moment.

Diving sideways, you manage to roll down a hill, groaning as you hit the flat surface of dirt. Sitting up, you gaze up to see JK glaring down at you from the ledge you fell. It’s too slippery for him to slide down without hurting himself, and he knows this. His gaze lands on a trail just off to the side. You watch in horror as he sprints towards it. Staggering up on wobbly legs, you gaze around — exit — I need an exit!

“Y/N! Y/N! I can help!” You look down and notice your bag on the ground, the contents spilled out. One of them is your compact mirror - which has Jin staring back at you! Feeling a wave of slight relief, you grab the mirror and despite the pain and your forgotten items, you race through the thicket of bushes and trees.

“Jin - tell me I’m dreaming, because right now I’m being chased by a serial killer,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low as you duck just beneath a protruding branch.

“I would love to tell you that - but unfortunately it’s the truth. The King hired a trained huntsman to track you down to kill.”

“How are you so calm about all this?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to save you,” Jin huffs.

“Please think faster - I don’t think I can continue like this anymore,” you hiss, noticing you are now deeper into the woods than you were before. Deeper and even more lost.

“I have an idea,” Jin pipes up.

You quickly and quietly crouch behind a few shrubs, hiding yourself and holding the mirror close to you. It’s terrifyingly quiet and you’re afraid to look up in fear that JK is looming over you, ready to strike. But you’re certain he’s nowhere near you yet, he had to round the ledge that you rolled down and that would’ve given you enough time to hide.

“Shh! I hear him,” you whisper, quietly placing the mirror on the dirt floor as you press yourself closer and closer into the shrub.

With bated breath, you hear him. Your heart is hammering loudly in your chest, so loud that you’re fearful he can hear and find you. The sound of his footsteps coming closer as he crunches nearby twigs and leaves.

“Y/N, if you come out now, I’ll make it painless and quick. I’m sorry for your fate, but the King has ordered it. You have nowhere else you can run.” It’s said matter-of-factly, but you notice how JK has the decency to sound… guilty?

Jin looks just as terrified as you. Though for him, it’s because he’s the whole reason this situation is unfolding and guilt is killing him slowly. He can’t let you just die - not because of Taehyung’s reckless and impulsive decision!

Due to his self berating, he misses you grabbing a nearby tree branch. You just needed one, clear shot and JK would go down - just enough for you to run to safety.

You slowly stand, holding the branch tightly like a baseball bat. One, two, one, two, one, two… you chant inwardly, as JK nears closer and closer to your spot.

Peeking out, you notice that the huntsman has his back turned to your hiding spot. It’s now or never.

Creeping out, you lift the branch up high and bring it down hard onto the back of his head.

You hear the dull thud of the branch meeting his skull and you think you’ve done it, but JK whips around and your eyes widen in fear. JK is stunned from the surprise attack and he clumsily moves back, putting distance between the two of you.

The impact has dizzied his senses and the next thing he knows, he’s slipping on something wet and then down, down he goes…

“Did you kill him!?” Jin’s voice comes from the ground, horrified and freaking out. You quickly drop the branch and look at the crumpled form on the forest floor. Shivering, you press the toe of your shoe into his side - he doesn’t respond.

“I-I don’t know! I didn’t mean to kill him,” you begin to ramble, fear bubbling in a whole new form. “Shit, shit,” you hiss, dropping to your knees as you reach a hand out, trembling fingers resting just centimetres between his philtrum and nostrils.

A shaky moment passes and slowly the tension bleeds from your heart as you feel faint air on your fingertips.

“He’s not dead - knocked out cold, but not dead,” you breathe, relief flooding your entire body. You miss how Jin visibly relaxes from your words.

“C’mon, I know a cabin not too far from here. You can rest there - tomorrow we’ll figure out another plan before the King knows you’ve gotten away,” Jin’s voice sounds so far in your head. He’s talking survival tactics, but all you can do is feel tears fill your eyes.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Pushing the bubbling fear and anxiety down, you go around JK’s unconscious form, hooking your arms around and under his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Jin deadpans.

“Dragging JK to that cabin you’re talking about. We can’t just leave him out here. He’ll definitely die from the cold if we do,” you huff, realizing just how heavy the huntsman is.

“Good luck, he’s built like a rock,” Jin mumbles with an eye roll.

Despite the side comments, Jin directs you to the cabin while you haul JK through the woods. You feel bad for his clothes, they’re smeared with dirt and leaves, but at least you can aid that wound on the back of his head once you get inside.

“Are you sure no one lives here,” you ask, feeling anxious after you’re done settling JK onto the spare bed and treating his wound. Your entire body is sore and your bones are weak due to the exertion.

Jin makes a noncommittal noise, his back turned to you in the mirror as if he’s actually looking around the place.

“Get some rest,” he advises instead, trying to sound calm.

He’s praying that Taehyung will forget.

If Taehyung doesn’t, he will find out and when he does, all hell will break loose.

+++

Now that we’re caught up with the present situation, on with the story.

King Taehyung is pissed to say the least. His mirror hasn’t responded to him since that day, which was well over a week ago. And on top of it all, his huntsman, is nowhere to be found. No news, no pigeon messengers, nothing.

Cursing his bad luck, Taehyung paces back and forth in front of Jin’s mirror, waiting impatiently.

“Jin, show yourself before I break the damn’ thing,” Taehyung hisses.

Rolling his eyes at the bossiness, Jin appears, doing his elegant bow. “Your Majesty.”

“Find me JK.”

Jin tenses immediately.

You see, after the whole JK-trying-to-murder-you incident, he was pretty much blacked out for a couple of days. You treated him as best you could with Jin’s help, but nothing seemed to work.

To make matters worse… the cabin was inhabited.

A druid, ancient and almost like a wood nymph owned the tiny place. The druid looked human, he was very tall and had startlingly blue eyes.

Surprise on everyone’s expressions when he opened the door to his room to find you kneeling by JK’s bed, bandages in one hand and scissors in the other. You were fearful at first, but the druid, who told you his name is Namjoon, helped you and JK, healing him.

He didn’t take lightly to having strangers in his cabin, but knew Jin from a lifetime before and had reluctantly allowed you and JK to stay until he was fully healed.

JK was a different story.

Number one, his name is Jungkook.

Two, he’s an orphan that grew up working as a guard for the former King and Queen before their passing. Afterwards, Taehyung recruited him as a special huntsman for secret tasks. This you all found out once you managed to cuff Jungkook to the bed and get him to spill everything. It wasn’t that hard, once Jungkook saw Jin, he was pretty much willing to explain everything, no detail left out.

Now, back to the problem at hand. Jin had hoped you would be safe and sound. Taehyung would’ve and should’ve forgotten about you after nearly two weeks of silence, but instead, it was like the King’s fury had risen with each passing day.

Looking at him now, Jin could see just how each day had ruined the powerful man bit by bit. His hair was ragged and messy, almost like the King had constantly ran his fingers through it in frustration. His robes were askew, no longer pristine and in place immaculately. His eyes had dark circles and his skin looked a little less than brilliant.

“Must I repeat myself, every single time,” Taehyung’s voice sounds, cold and hollow, shaking Jin from his thoughts. “Where is Jungkook.”

“Don’t you think you’re going about this wrong, Your Grace? Look at it this way - she’s just a peasant. Common, filthy, plain. You are a King - highest of the land—“

“I will not ask again - show me where Jungkook is or I will smash you to pieces.”

Jin’s eyes widen. Never, in all the years of bickering and fighting and constant cat/mouse games, has Taehyung ever threatened him like this.

“No.”

It’s Taehyung’s turn to stare in shock. “No?” he echoes, the bright walls suddenly dimmer around him.

“You can’t just murder someone because you feel inferior to them. What would your mother say?”  

“Silence!” Taehyung roars, angry filling his features darkly. “Do you know who I am?! I am the King - the Fairest of them all - and you dare to tell me, this pathetic, low, peasant girl has upped me? Regardless of your lies, I will see to it that her head is served on a silver platter for you. This will teach you to never lie to your King again.” A mad look takes over his handsome features and Jin feels real fear creep up his spine.

“I won’t let you harm her. She’s done nothing of the sort to deserve it. As your friend—“

A harsh, empty laugh cuts through the room and Jin stops. Taehyung looks like the portrait of crazy at this point.

“Friend? You think that you and I are friends?” The King questions, walking up slowly to the mirror, his blue robes swishing almost predatorily behind him. “You think… a damned soul such as yourself would ever be a friend of mine? No. No, absolutely not. I tolerated you - kept you by my side because you were useful. You showed me what I wanted to see - but you were never and will never be more than an ugly piece of decoration in this kingdom.”

Jin stares, mouth agape in horror and shock and sadness. He wants to tell Taehyung to take it back, to admit that they’re friends, that somewhere in that cold, darkened heart of his, he truly does care about Jin and all that they’ve been through. Jin, who was there for him when Taehyung was a young boy, reckless and immature, selfish and alone.

But no. Alas, Taehyung is resolute in his words. His eyes are hard, mouth set into a firm, grim line. It is time for Jin to face the music.

His hands coil into fists by his side and Jin tries to recompose himself as best he can. To hell with Kim Taehyung. After everything, he’s still a selfish, immature brat. With as much venom as he can muster, Jin sarcastically states his goodbye, trying to ignore the stab of heartbreak in his chest. “Very well, Your Majesty… I shall take my leave. All hail the King.”

Taehyung watches as the mirror dims and then Jin is gone. In his place is his own reflection, a shell of a man staring back at him, hollowed - unhappy. With a roar of anger, Taehyung spins from the throne room, heading straight for the library.

This common peasant has done it again!

Taken his closest confidant away from him. He’ll teach her.

He’ll show her just what happens when you mess with the King.  

Throwing open the doors to his personal library, he pulls books upon books out from their spots. No, no - Taehyung is almost insane. His fingers are trembling and his heart feels tight. He hates this feeling - he hasn’t felt like this since his parents — no.

You must not think of that, he tells himself. It’s weak and sad and he hates that feeling. Finally, his fingers feel the velvet. Pulling the book from its spot, he grins almost maniacally once he sees the cover. An ancient spell book that had been passed down from a witch to his father as a gift many, many years ago. His father had warned him to never use it, to keep it and know its contents, but to never use it, for Magic Always Came with A Price.

Ignoring the blatant warning bells in his mind and the echoes of his father’s words, Taehyung flips the book open, fingers leafing through the pages with speed. He’ll show them all - how he’s not lonely or weak. Kim Taehyung deserves to be king - more than anyone in this forsaken land! He grins, just a tad bit insane.

He finds three spells.

The first is a spell that will create a poison with a very rare antidote, which he creates successfully and dips a few apples inside.

The second is a tracking spell. He’ll find her one way or another.

Lastly, the third is an illusion. He needs something that will garner her attention, something that will probably appeal to her heart. Grinning, he settles for the disguise of an old, frail woman.

After all, horror comes in threes.

“Watch out, Y/N. I’m coming for you,” he cackles.

He recites the spell with some difficulty even after reading it over a dozen times.  

A gust of wind beats violently against the castle walls, the candles flickering. Taehyung closes his eyes, feeling the magic surrounding him, filling him up and stretching him to be what he wants.

Even with his eyes closed, he can picture the young woman that Jin had showed him not too long ago. She’s smiling at a group of children as she handles a brand new pie, straight from the oven in the mirrored image. Taehyung feels emotions boil inside him. Emotions he doesn’t want to think about.

Then the magic is gone.

Opening his eyes, he grins, only to falter when he realizes how tall everything looks. Wait.

He starts to walk towards the mirror again, but instead of moving smoothly, he stumbles and then falls, landing on his face. What the hell?

Pushing himself back up, or at least trying to, Taehyung stares in horror at what he finds.

His arms are short and furry!!

Trembling, he stands, looking down at himself.

Oh no… no, no, no…

Running towards the mirror, he stares and the image that stares back at him is horrifying.

He’s a dog!

A two-toned brown dog, small and furry and cute.

Taehyung groans, the sound coming out in a whimper.

Running back to the spell book, he realizes he mispronounced a word. The pesky Latin!

Well.

Closing his eyes, he tries to steady the anger boiling inside him. Fine. This is fine - he’s fine. He’ll go, find Y/N, get her to eat an apple, poison her, and then he’ll force Jin to transform him back. Jin will have to - especially if he wants the antidote to save his precious Y/N.

Stamping his paw down with as much might as he can, Taehyung grabs onto the stem of one apple, already heading towards the door.

He’ll show them.

He’ll show them all!

***

Jin is tense.

You’re in the garden tending to the vegetables, which means you’re safe. For the time being.

Taehyung is on a crazy spree. Which means, he’s after you and will not let you go until he manages to kill you.

“You know, this is kinda your fault,” Jungkook murmurs, pulling apart some bread and tossing a bite into his mouth. “If you didn’t mess with him, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Eat with your mouth closed,” Jin scolds from his spot on the dining table. Namjoon is pretending to not hear them, continually tweaking away at his mini bonsai plant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the bread. He’s almost healed now, but he’s decided to stay behind and watch over you. You did save his life after all, even though it was his fault in the first place.

After waking up and finding himself in an unfamiliar place and in immense pain, Jungkook knew it was time to reevaluate his life choices. Thus, here he was, swearing his loyalty to you.

“Seokjin, why do you keep pacing?” Namjoon wonders, standing straight and towering over the small mirror. The compact was left for travelling and now, Jin resided in a medium sized mirror that was toted around the small cabin wherever one of the three habitants would be.

“I keep pacing because I’m worried. You didn’t see him - Taehyung looked mad. Worse than the Mad Hatter!”

“Heh. Hasn’t he always been, though? Ever since the funeral, he’s been spiralling… not to mention, he keeps talking about absorbing more magic and whatnot,” Jungkook talks absently, reaching for another piece of bread.

Jin stops pacing, head whipping to face the younger male. “What - magic? You mean, Taehyung was looking into getting more magic?”

The huntsman nods. “Mm. He was constantly mumbling to himself about a magical book that could grant him whatever he wanted and keep him youthful forever. You know, typical evil talk.”

At this point, Namjoon looks up from his plant, furrowed eyebrows in the huntsman’s direction. “How are you not more… alarmed?”

“I was. I think I still am. It’s just my defence mechanism. You know, dealing with the whole, I-could’ve-died thing.”

Namjoon nods understandingly.

“If he found the book though, that means he’s been using it. Reading it at the very least. Which means he’s on his way here if he’s found the tracking spell,” Jin mutters, more to himself. “But he can’t just leave the castle as is. He’s the King - everyone knows his face.”

“A disguise,” Namjoon supplies.

Jungkook sits straight up. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like Taehyung. He would definitely get a disguise and probably cooked up a whole new murder plan.”

“Y/N!” Jin practically shouts. “Bring me to her! She’s in mortal danger!”

***

Outside, you straighten your back with a satisfying groan. Most of the vegetables were harvested and now you had a nice, filled basket of goodies for the coming days. Carrots, tomatoes, and some potatoes, too.

You’ve almost forgotten about the whole ‘the King of Land of Fairytales wanting me dead’ ordeal.

Humming softly, you go to water the plants by the front of the cabin. Namjoon has been so kind to let you stay, along with JK - now Jungkook. The huntsman had sworn loyalty to you after waking to find you tending to his wounds. Though… he was the one who inflicted them upon himself.

A sudden sound off to the side gets your attention.

You stand up straight, clutching the watering pot close to you.

“Hello?” You wince at the sound of your voice. Haven’t you learned from past tales that you never call out loud to impending danger.

Still, your dumbass is curious and so, you move closer and closer towards the sound.

It’s from a large bush near the front of the cabin. The leaves are ruffling and you’re sure whatever is in there won’t get close, not when you have a magical mirror, huntsman and a druid all nearby.

Pushing the leaves apart, you notice more movement. “What the—“

“Y/N, STEP AWAY!” Jin shouts and you hear Jungkook’s thundering footsteps. A hand lands on your upper arm and you’re steered around. Jin is ready - ready to face his former best friend, the monster of all monsters. How dare he come after you like this?!

However, what greets him isn’t a frail, old woman or an ominous child or demon spawned from hell, but rather… a dog. An almost puppy-sized Pomeranian, brown and yipping in your arms.

“Uh, Jin,” Jungkook murmurs, also noticing the fluff ball that’s cradled in your arm.

You’re the first one to break the silence, the small ball of adorableness staring up at you. “Oh by the gods,” you gush, unable to help yourself. “You’re so freaking cute!!”

The dog has short legs, a body of brown fur and it’s trying to move, but you don’t notice the way the dog practically growls at Jungkook threateningly. The huntsman backs off, immediately sensing something is way off.

“Jungkook, give me some space. You’re freaking out the poor pup,” you chide softly, too enraptured by the adorable fluff ball to notice the way it’s practically hissing at Jungkook with hatred.

Said man backs off, quickly going back to Namjoon’s side.

“Call me crazy, but I think that’s Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes never leaving the yapping dog. He can’t quite understand it, but he’s sure Taehyung is cursing him to the moon and back.

Jin watches from the mirror, calculating his next move. Taehyung isn’t an expert at magic, that much is true. He also managed to turn himself into a dog and found them.

Well.

“Y/N,” Jin calls out and you walk over, carrying your newfound friend with you. “Why don’t you keep it? I think it’s a stray.”

The dog stops barking - well, Taehyung stops shouting - immediately. His eyes hone in on Jin and suddenly the wheels click in his head. Sonofab—

“That sounds like a great idea. We could teach it some tricks. We usually sees wolves, not a stray puppy,” you coo, smiling brightly. “It’s so cute too!”

“Check to see the gender,” Jin supplies, further adding salt to the injury. Taehyung will murder him once he returns back to his normal form.

Without shame, you tilt the dog gently and peek.

“It’s a boy,” you smile without a care, not noticing how Taehyung practically went stiff in your arms, unable to do anything but let out a soft, embarrassed whimper. Jin is smirking at him, almost victoriously.

“Check, mate,” he mouths, smirk widening when he sees Taehyung ready to jump out of your arms and run at the mirror. Unfortunately, you’re far more stronger than him now that he’s a dog.

Thus, Taehyung has lost this round.

+++

The next days are splendid.

You wake up, make breakfast while Namjoon and Jungkook hunt, clean and chat with Jin and of course, spend all your time with your new puppy. You hadn’t been sure what to name him, but ‘Caramel’ seemed fitting since he was a duo brownish colour, darker brown on top and much lighter along his belly.

He constantly ignored his dog food, preferring to eat the human food you had cooked for the others. At first you were worried he’d get sick, but as time went on, you realized Caramel was just special. Even in this short time span, you knew you loved him.

On the other hand, Taehyung has been plotting your murder since day one. But alas, he hasn’t been able to execute it probably. Each and every single time, Jungkook, Jin or even the druid, Namjoon, have managed to foil his plans.

One time, he saw you leaning over the edge of the river bank, trying to fish. He had ran at full speed, hoping to push you into the water. Last minute, Namjoon had pulled you to safety and Taehyung had yipped in fear as he dove headfirst into the wet surface. He wasn’t used to walking, so swimming was far out of the picture. The shock soon wore off and fear gripped him as he felt himself sinking.

A splash was heard and arms grabbed him, pulling him up into safety. He spluttered, as much as he could in this form, ready to thank Jungkook for helping him… only to find it was, well, you.

You were soaked, hair sticking to your face as you watched him with worrisome eyes. “Caramel, be careful!” You scolded, keeping him bundled close.

The pomeranian didn’t know what else to do, shivering from cold, fright, or something else. Without thinking, Taehyung all but snuggled into you and your warmth. Just this once, he tells himself inwardly. Tomorrow he would try to kill you again.

Of course, the days that spanned soon turned into weeks. Each day, Taehyung spent with you, he forgot about wanting to kill you. Ever since the riverbank incident, you’ve kept your eye on the pomeranian, not wanting anymore accidents. Despite all the attention (much to Jin’s chagrin), Taehyung was beginning to warm up to you, whether or not he realized it.

In fact… he dare say, he was beginning to like you.

That is - if Taehyung had emotional understanding, he would realize it. But he didn’t. So he continued to be rather dense.

One night in particular, after dinner, Namjoon had offered to wash the dishes with Jungkook, deciding you should have free time after rushing around all day doing this and that. Jin had hummed in agreement, though he seemed distracted with something. The mirror bid you all goodnight, leaving only the two cleaners, you and Caramel.

Not wanting to go to sleep just yet, you wrapped yourself in a shawl that Namjoon had given to you a few days prior (“For the colder nights,” he had smiled warmly, dimples showing).

“Caramel,” you whisper, crouching next to the dog almost falling asleep on the armchair. “Do you want to see the stars with me?”

Taehyung perks at that, turning to face you. The last time he’s seen the stars was when his parents were still alive and well. The three of them had gone to the highest tower in the castle and gazed out, while having a nightly picnic of treats. He makes a low noise of agreement and you scoop him up, heading towards the back of the cabin.

The air is a little chilly, but you wrap the shawl tightly around your shoulders. Taking a seat on the wooden porch of the cabin, you bring your knees to your chest, head tipped upwards. Taehyung looks up, too, eyes widening at the sight before him.

“Wow,” you breathe amazedly. Taehyung mirrors you in agreement.

The moon is full and bright, high in the night sky. Around it are a million sparkling stars, some larger than others. It’s like the entire world has faded away, leaving only the two of you to see this swirling sea of endless beauty.

“You know, that big star right there,” you point out, getting the dog’s attention. “That’s Sirius. In other words, it’s known as the ‘dog star,’” you grin, “like you.”

Taehyung scoffs - you’ve got jokes.

You giggle feeling the sassy response from your companion. “It’s the brightest star in the entire galaxy, Caramel. Which means you’re one pretty special doggie.”

He doesn’t know why, but he turns to look at you and your side profile makes something in him feel… warm. Blaming the night chill, he presses his smaller form against you. Noticing, you lift and place him in your lap, wrapping the shawl around the both of you, while letting his head peek out to watch the stars.

“You want to know the funniest thing? I’m a common peasant… no family, no money, nothing to my name but my person. I work at a tavern, serving brutes and drunks all day long. All I wanted was my own fairytale ending… like those princesses I see strolling the street markets day after day,” you sigh. “Turns out the King wants me dead… I don’t even know why. Then there’s a magic mirror, a huntsman and a druid. I was all alone before they came to me… did you know that?”

Taehyung watches you, unable to look away. Something akin to guilt grips at his heart. He too, knows the feeling of loneliness. Ever since his parents’ death, he’s been alone. No friends truly cared, no family members wanted to take him in - all he had were servants and those that wanted the throne.

These past days that he’s been with you, he’s seen how you are. You’re hardworking, kind, always looking out for others. Always got a warm smile on your face, even when you’re sad. You try to hide the pain to not be a burden. And himself? He’s nothing but a spoilt brat sitting on the throne, complaining and whining when things don’t go his way.

“And the thing is… I’m scared they’ll all leave me. So while I hate the King for putting me in this situation, I’m also grateful because of him, I met some really, really wonderful friends.” You smile, looking down at the pomeranian.

Your eyes shine with unshed tears.

Taehyung whimpers, leaning up to lick the tears away before he can second guess his actions.

“But most of all, I’m glad I have you, Caramel. You’re… special to me. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like you get me. You understand what I’m saying and how I feel. …even though you’re a huge troublemaker,” you tease, voice soft.

Taehyung’s heart doubles in speed.

Even though you didn’t have lips as red as rose, hair as dark as ebony, skin as white as snow… Taehyung finds you, in a puzzling way, perfect. Especially with the way the moonlight shines down on you, basking you in a white, ethereal glow.

“I love you, Caramel. I hope I never lose you,” you admit, squeezing him a little tighter in your embrace.

Taehyung finds he doesn’t care. He hugs you back as much as he can in this form, nuzzling closer to your soothing heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. No longer lonely and isolated. He feels… happy.

Is Taehyung — the cold, hollow, ice King — falling in love?

You pet him, cuddle him, read stories to him - you even teach him tricks (which he hates, but he does because you smile when he successfully accomplishes one and it makes his tiny heart flutter). Heck, you even talk to him! It’s something Taehyung has missed ever since his parents’ passing and while he tries to push the thought away, he can’t pretend that his little (doggie) heart isn’t thumping for you. Because damn’, it is.

He’s gotten belly rubs and pets; warm, good, homestyle cooking made just for him with love and care. You give him forehead kisses and tell him your deepest wishes and desires, all the while just enjoying his presence even though he doesn’t/can’t say anything back! Yet, you never become frustrated or upset with him. Even when he’s being a ‘bad doggie’.

You genuinely care for him.

He sees the way Jin smirks at him when you get up to fetch another nighttime story and Taehyung growls lowly under his breath. The mirror chuckles and goes back to doing whatever he was doing before being a nosy-eavesdropper.

Taehyung is happy. He hasn’t felt this free in years and he doesn’t want to quite give up the doggy lifestyle just yet.

After all, he still needed to murder you and since that wasn’t really on his agenda anymore, he decided that he would stay just a little bit longer.

At least… until he could figure out why he couldn’t bear to leave you behind as he returned to his kingly duties.

+++

But of course, life is filled with trials and tribulations.

One fateful day, there is a knock at the door. Taehyung is busy sitting in your lap, eating the omelette you’ve cooked for him. Jungkook gets the door and lo and behold, it is Prince Jimin from the neighbouring castle.

Prince Jimin, with his coiffed silvery hair, smoky eyes and pouting, full lips.

The door widens some more and Taehyung is able to make out that there are two other men behind the Prince.

“Hello,” Jimin smiles, all princely and kind. Taehyung would roll his eyes if he could. The snob. “Would it be alright if I come in?”

“Oh - yes, please,” You start, already standing and gently placing Taehyung on the ground. He pouts. How dare you put him down because of this other, snivelling male. He watches as you walk over to Jimin, curtsying as best you can. He also doesn’t miss the way Jimin can’t seem to take his eyes off of you - the way there’s a shade of light pink dusting the Prince’s cheeks. A growl starts in Taehyung’s throat.

“Welcome to our humble abode, Your Highness,” Namjoon greets, bowing. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Jimin smiles still as he enters the small cabin, the two men following close behind. “I was just coming to visit you. I have some questions about my garden and was hoping you would be able to give me some advice… though, I dare say, I’ve come upon an even more beautiful treasure.”

Your eyes widen when you notice how the Prince looks at you, his eyes sparkling.

Jungkook clears his throat from beside you and Jimin notices how he’s eyeing the two men behind him. “Ah - yes! This is Yoongi, he is my Royal Advisor.” Said man is roughly around Jimin’s height, dressed in black, but his blazer is covered in an intricate pattern that is similar to the Prince’s. Black hair falls over cat-like eyes and Taehyung feels the bark in him die down, especially when the advisor turns his gaze onto him. It’s as if Yoongi can see right through his disguise.

“This here is Hoseok, my royal guard,” the man on his left, slightly taller, dark hair sweeping across his forehead. His eyes are focused on Jungkook, almost assessing the situation if anything were to break out.

“Would you two cut it out,” Jimin whines after a moment of tense silence. “This is why I didn’t want you accompanying me. It feels like a funeral with you two!”

You blink in surprise. Prince Jimin is handsome, but when he breaks from his serious face, he’s got a pouty, almost childlike glee to him. You chuckle, catching the Prince’s attention. A small smile lights up his face.

“Well, since you’ve come all this way, I suppose I’ll go back to take a look at the gardens,” Namjoon states, already walking towards the carriage waiting outside.

“Would your… friends care to join us,” Jimin wonders, gaze still fixed on yours.

“Sure!”

“Bark!”

Both you and Taehyung speak at the same time and it grabs Jimin’s attention. You watch in alarm at the way Caramel is poised, tense and ready to attack the Prince, despite the size difference.

Bending down, you quickly scoop the pomeranian into your arms. “As long as he can come. He gets fussy when I leave him alone for a long period,” you try to reason, struggling to keep your hold because it looks like he’s about to maul Jimin to pieces.

The Prince chuckles nervously, and while his two companions say nothing more, you notice how Yoongi’s eyes have amusement dancing in them as he watches the dog.

Soon you all set off, Jin, the magic mirror in tow as well.

Jimin’s castle is beautiful, tall, bright and filled with colourful people and decorations. There’s always music and laughter and you find yourself loving the atmosphere.

Namjoon tends to his gardens, while Jungkook and Jin go off to browse the castle grounds and the places outside. You keep Caramel close to your side, worried that he’ll get into even more trouble if you leave him alone.

All seems well. And all would be. You found a handsome, charming Prince; you have a group of wonderful, newfound friends - even Yoongi and Hoseok are quite nice, once you get past the whole serious facade they put up to guard their leader.

It should be a Happy Ever After.

But.

It’s not.

You see, this isn’t what Taehyung wanted. He doesn’t want to see you and Jimin getting along just swell. Laughing over shared jokes, talking and exchanging ideas, likes, dislikes, becoming closer each growing day. Soon, what was supposed to only be a visit almost becomes permanent.

Namjoon grows to love the garden and postpones leaving, despite Taehyung’s constant barking and ankle nipping to get the druid to understand he wants to leave. But Namjoon is far denser than the King and he doesn’t even spare a glance as he starts to avoid the small pomeranian.

Then an idea hits.

A devilish, perfect, evil idea.

Taehyung treks the journey back to the cabin - not that far when you have four legs. He finds the poisonous apple he had hidden behind the shrubs… a little gross looking, but nonetheless edible if he could clean it with some water. Holding the stem in his teeth, he treks back to the castle quickly.

New Plan: Poison Prince Jimin.

Y/N no longer loves him because he’s dead.

Y/N chooses to return home to the cabin in the woods with him.

You and Taehyung live happily ever after.  

The End.

“You’re jealous,” Jin’s teases when he sees Taehyung in his doggy form pacing around your empty bedroom.

You had went to have dinner with the others earlier. Taehyung had feigned sleepiness, so you had tucked him into your bed, pressing a sweet kiss to his head as you left. The moment you were gone, Taehyung had sprung up and tried to get to the poisoned apple underneath your mattress. He didn’t expect Jin to show up, but here he was, watching Taehyung through your new, vanity mirror.

A bark.

“That’s a foul word, even for you, My King,” Jin drawls, arms crossed. They haven’t really spoken that much - not since the Big Fight.

But Jin has a big, soft heart and he can’t stand to watch Taehyung fall apart. So while they haven’t spoken, the older has kept an eye on him to make sure he never went too far with his shenanigans. Now seemed like one of those times.

“What are you going to do - poison Jimin? Y/N won’t like that,” Jin tries to reason, missing the way Taehyung struggles with getting the stem of the apple into his teeth and out from under the bed.

Another bark.

“That’s not a good idea. You’ve already attempted murder, what, a handful of times and each one has ended up badly. Don’t you think this means you, oh, I don’t know - not murder anymore??”

Another bark and a string of growls.

“Pfft. Right back at you,” Jin scoffs. “Taehyung - look. If you love her, like I know you do, just talk to her - I can help you find a spell to turn back into yourself. She’ll love you for you. All you have to do is make a few personality changes, you know - less moody, less bossy, less—“ Jin stops.

As he turned to face the dog, he realized two things: Taehyung is not there. The room is empty.

***

You and Jimin are in the dining room, alone - how fitting.

The Prince is trying to teach you a magic trick involving a string. He’s demonstrating it once more and you’re enraptured by the neat trick. Taehyung hates how his heart is squeezing and running forward, he drops the apple by Jimin’s ankle. Barking once to gather the Prince’s attention.

Jimin looks down, surprise on his face to see your pomeranian beaming up at him, sitting on his hind legs and tail wagging.

“Oh, for me?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen.

It’s your hand that reaches towards the granny smith apple.

That beautiful smile on your face and he can’t — you can’t die!

Without thinking and clearly freaking out, he growls hoping to scare you.

Instead, you frown at the dog, hand closed around the apple and bringing it towards your face. “Caramel, what are you—“

Taehyung does what he can only do in this situation.

He eats the apple.

You watch in shock as your dog begins to whimper as he stares up at you, suddenly brown eyes looking like they were… crying?

Panic squeezes your chest and you drop to your knees, pulling the pomeranian close. “H-hey, what’s wrong?”

Taehyung feels immense pain course through him.

“Get help! Someone get help!” You shout in alarm, acidic tears pricking at your eyes.

Jimin is on his feet, quickly calling for Namjoon and Yoongi.

The doors to the dining room fly open, several people running towards the Prince and you.

Before they can get near you, a bright, blinding flash of light fills the room.

You close your eyes shut tight, keeping the dog securely in your arms.

Just as quick as the light was there, it’s gone.

And in its place, in your arms, is no longer Caramel, your adorable pomeranian - but a man.

Naked, caramel-coloured skin, eyes closed and definitely unconscious.

You stare in shock.

Everyone in the room is deathly quiet, until Jimin breaks the silence.

“Oh my gods… is that — Taehyung?!” All eyes turn to Jimin, including yours.

Wait, as in King Taehyung - the man who ordered Huntsman Jungkook to murder you almost a month ago?!

Jin and Jungkook are standing there, watching in horror because no one was supposed to find out about Taehyung’s disguise and also - why isn’t he moving?!

“He ate the apple,” you choke out, suddenly aware and connecting all the dots. “He ate the apple and now he’s not moving!”

Yoongi swiftly kneels beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let me see him.” You want to refuse, want to argue that they can’t touch him - not when you don’t even know what to do yourself. But the advisor gives you a reassuring squeeze and you hesitantly let Caramel — Taehyung go.

***

A wave of exhaustion hits you as you wait impatiently outside the royal infirmary.

Yoongi is also a trained physician, especially in ancient magic, much like Namjoon, and the two have not left the room since they took Taehyung into it.

You feel your nerves going as you sit there, waiting for something.

“Y/N.” Looking up, you see Jungkook looking worriedly at you.

Hoseok has been leaning against the wall to the infirmary, stationary and quiet ever since Jimin went in with Jin. Jungkook had offered to stay behind to comfort you, worried about how you were reacting to the sudden events.

“He’s - he’s really the King? The same King who hired you to kill me,” you ask, voice surprisingly clear.

Jungkook winces. “Yes… he, well, I grew up with him. His parents took me in from the orphanage. Hoped they could have me as Taehyung’s friend, but after their deaths, Taehyung pushed me away. Trained me to become his personal assassin - he was always paranoid everyone was against him,” Jungkook explains.

Groaning, you bury your face into your hands. “Why is my life so messed up?” You mumble. You miss the way Hoseok and Jungkook exchange an empathetic glance.

The door to the infirmary opens and you immediately look up. Jimin’s half-standing out of the door, handing something to Hoseok as he exchanges words quietly with his guard. The Prince turns to you, a somber expression on his face before he apologetically closes the door once more, shutting you out.

“My Lady,” Hoseok begins, treading lightly as he turns towards you.

You sit up. Beside you, Jungkook is tensed, worried about what Hoseok might do.

“His Majesty says the warlock would like to exchange some words with you.”

Hoseok hands you the small compact mirror and you thank him. Nodding, he goes back to his post, back turned to you as he waits silently.

Jin’s face appears in the mirror and he looks just as exhausted as you. “Y/N, I think… you have a lot of questions. Please, I’ll try to answer whatever you ask me.”

“Jin - just what the hell is going on,” you hiss, tears pricking at your eyes. “You better not lie to me anymore or I swear I’ll throw you into the dumpster!”

The man in the mirror feels immense guilt at seeing you so sad.

He finally tells you.

Jin tells you how from the beginning he was a renowned warlock, powerful and ancient. He grew cocky and as a punishment, a group of supernatural beings got together and cast a curse over him. He was to be locked inside the mirror that hung in Taehyung’s castle until true love came along to set him free. Even Namjoon, who was almost as old as Jin, couldn’t set him free with his magic. From there, years passed and Taehyung came along. The two became like brothers and soon, Jungkook joined the warlock’s world.

When Taehyung’s family passed, everything changed. Taehyung changed. He shut everyone out, closed his heart and became an ice cold King. Jin wanted to break through the mask, wanted to have the goofy, immature Prince back that he once knew. So he told a lie which spiralled out of control and brought them to where they are now.

You tear your eyes away from the image Jin has created in the mirror for you. The castle — Taehyung’s castle — is nothing like Jimin’s.

It’s gloomy, the servants in the image look monotonous and dreary, even the castle is sparse and filled with only decorations for the sake of filling empty spaces. Nothing is homey about Taehyung’s kingdom. You can’t help but feel bad for him… even after everything Jin has told you.

“I-is there a cure? To wake him up,” you ask.

“There is, but I don’t think Taehyung will ever wake up,” Jin answers sadly, his head hanging.

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

“It’s True Love’s Kiss,” the warlock responds, frowning. “Y/N, no one has ever loved Taehyung that way; no one but his parents. How can you possibly wake him up? Even I - his longtime companion feel anger when I think of all the mess he’s caused.”

You quickly stand, startling Jungkook. “Even if we feel anger, it doesn’t mean we don’t love him. I mean - you, you love him. So why don’t we try? I’m sure after all this time, you or Jungkook must feel something for the King.”

The huntsman makes a face. “I definitely am not kissing him. I know for a fact I don’t love him like that.”

“…could you?” Your eyes widen at Jin’s request. “He - he’s spent so much time with you as Caramel! Even if his name was never known to you, you must’ve felt something for all the time you spent together. Even if it’s just warmth. He clearly feels something for you - I mean,” Jin babbles.

You hate Taehyung.

He made you go on the run, almost get murdered by Jungkook, live in a cabin for fear of him finding out you were still alive - and it turns out, he disguised himself as your adorable pomeranian and tried to kill Jimin with a poisoned apple after he got jealous of your divided attention! Logically, it made sense why you hated the man. He was selfish and cruel and a narcissistic psychopath, you reasoned with yourself.

Even if he listened to you when you spoke and read to him, nuzzled into your side when you were sad that you could never return to normalcy.

Followed you no matter where you went, even if it was dangerous. Fought off stray wolves during your treks to find more food regardless of the size difference…

Played and did all the tricks you taught him - even though you now know he wasn’t a regular dog but the King of the Land! He still went out of his way to make you happy, when all he had to do was walk back to his castle and go back to his life.

He did whatever he could to make you smile.

Sighing, you give in.

Even if you are angry and you have every right to be, Taehyung is a straight up asshole - you want to save him. You want to save him because it just felt like the right thing to do and you couldn’t bear to see Taehyung die alone…

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, you enter to find Yoongi and Namjoon conversing over a large book. Jimin is sitting by Taehyung’s side, watching the King with a fond expression.

“Y/N,” Jimin greets, immediately standing when he sees you. “Is everything alright?”

“I know what will wake up,” you begin, exchanging a look with Jin. The older man nods gratefully. “It’s True Love’s Kiss.”

Jimin blanches visibly. “Y-you’re going to kiss him?”

“One of us has to,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Are you?”

Jimin quickly shakes his head.

Huffing, you push him aside as you walk up to Taehyung’s bed. The male looks… peaceful. Almost. His eyes are closed and you can see just how long his eyelashes are. You also notice the moles that decorate his caramel skin. One on his nose and one on his bottom lip.

“Are you sure, Y/N? You don’t have to do this,” Jimin begins, thinking you’re second guessing your actions.

“N-no, it’s fine. I’m just. You’re all watching me work a miracle, it’s unnerving.”

“Take your time,” Namjoon offers, a kind smile on his face.

Nodding, you take a deep breath. Here goes something.

Leaning over, you squeeze your eyes shut and kiss Taehyung - a quick peck on the lips.

Pulling back quickly, you watch, waiting for the man to sit up.

Nothing happens.

Behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat. “…maybe it takes a moment,” he shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

A moment passes and still nothing. Your eyes widen. It didn’t work! Maybe you aren’t Taehyung’s true love after all!

You turn, facing Jin with panic. “It should work, you’re the only one that should be able to wake him,” Jin states, more to himself before quickly disappearing after his words.

Great. Jin just left.

“Maybe you’re not kissing him hard enough?” Jimin wonders.

You like Jimin. Really, you do - but his comment irks you more than you let on. “Why don’t you trying kissing him then,” you hiss.

Jimin makes a disgusted face, crossing his arms. “No, no, I rather not. He’s a real drag.”

“You know, I saw something like this once. It was in a tale,” Yoongi begins almost conspiratorially.

Namjoon nods sagely. “Yes, I believe I do know that tale. The Princess needed a scale from a mere folk’s fin to wake her lover up.”

Jimin and Hoseok are now going to where Jungkook is standing by the window, all three conversing quietly.

You look around, noticing how everyone is muttering amongst themselves, trying to find a solution now that you clearly didn’t work.

The conversation around you begins to get on your nerves. They’re talking as if you were some trial that wasn’t successful in a laboratory!

Turning back to face Taehyung with a sense of newfound gusto, you lean down again. “You want true love’s kiss, fine.”

Grabbing Taehyung’s face, you press your lips to his more insistently now.

You try to ignore how soft his lips feel even though he’s clearly not had moisturizer or lip ointment during his time as a dog. That and he smells heavenly. Seriously, was it just a royalty thing??

Then — something just clicks.

It’s like time has stopped and you’re flying because suddenly, you feel hands on your face and the lips on yours begin to move, deepening the kiss. You groan, unable to stop yourself. The taste is addicting, making you yearn and want more.

Your fingers find their way into soft hair and you’re tugging enough to earn a hiss from the man below. He licks at your lips, asking for entrance and you almost grant it - until your mind reels you back to the present and where you are.

You pull away, mortified at what has happened.

“Y-you’re up?” you ask, unable to hide the breathlessness to your voice.

Taehyung is definitely and visibly up. His dark eyes are fixed on you, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed and his hair is a mess thanks to your wandering hands.

Remembering where you both are, he clears his throat, turning his gaze upwards to face the ceiling. “Uh, yeah. You - you kissed me?”

You nod. “To you know, break the spell of your poison apple!”

“Right,” Taehyung immediately replies, red dusting his cheeks. “Right. T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The entire room is quiet. Awkward silence filters the atmosphere.

“I should go,” you swallow, feeling embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded.

Taehyung doesn’t ask you to stay and you don’t miss the way your heart squeezes at that. You notice the rest of the room just watching you two interact with bated breath - even Jin is back from wherever he disappeared off to.

“Excuse me,” you quickly curtsy to Jimin, before you’re fleeing from the room.

…unfortunately this is how our two lover’s story ends.

King Taehyung and Y/N go their separate ways. Taehyung goes back to his castle with Jungkook and Jin after thanking Prince Jimin for letting him stay. Namjoon chooses to accompany Taehyung back, especially after the King offers the druid position as a royal advisor. Jimin and Taehyung shake on it, promising to meet outside of royal affairs to become better acquainted again - after all, they were the best of friends when they were both just young boys. Yoongi and Hoseok continue on with their lives, though Taehyung can’t help but flush every time Yoongi meets his gaze. It’s like the advisor knows something Taehyung doesn’t (or doesn’t want to acknowledge anyways).

You go back home, declining Jimin’s request to stay by his side. You like the Prince, he’s handsome, charming, funny and he’s what every singleton in the Land of Fairytales is after - but he’s not for you. You thank him for everything he’s done and wish him the best in finding a better lover. Jimin doesn’t pressure you and you think it’s because he too realizes your heart never belonged to him in the first place.

Days pass and you’re back on track again for normalcy and the mundane. Though, you don’t complain as much as you used to. You quit the tavern upon returning, deciding to try your hand at a different occupation. You just know there’s something out there waiting for you - something great and wonderful and you’re going to find it on your own.

In his castle, Taehyung is miserable. Not because of his lifestyle. No, he’s changed things around a bit - new decorations, new guidelines, he even smiles a bit more to his workers and servants than he had previously. The magic spell book is placed back in its storage spot and he’s managed to recover as best he can the friendships with Jungkook and Jin.

But he’s unhappy. He doesn’t ask Jin who’s the fairest of them all anymore - it no longer fancies him to know and he honestly doesn’t even care anymore about that.

“You look awful,” Jin voices one afternoon on a sunny day. Both, he and Taehyung are watching as Namjoon teaches Jungkook basic, forestry magic. It’s endearing to see how the younger quickly fawns over the druid, almost heart-eyed.

“I haven’t slept well,” Taehyung lies.

“Because you miss her?”

A grunt is all the warlock gets in response. “You should find her. She’s waiting for you, too, you know.”

“What, you’ve been stalking her?”

“No. We still talk, even if you no longer bother to reach out. She’s a good one… pure and kind-hearted. Tougher than you think,” Jin chuckles.

“I know she’s tough, I just don’t want her feeling pressured to be with me because of what we went through. Trauma isn’t meant to create happiness.”

Not for the first time since their return, Jin is impressed. Taehyung has definitely matured quite a bit.

“I don’t think it’s trauma. She would’ve run for the hills if she hated you. Clearly - she doesn’t.”

Taehyung is quiet, mulling over the elder’s words.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Taehyung responds without hesitation. “So much that it hurts without her here. I just…” Taehyung sighs. “I just want to be with her.”

“Then go!” Jin practically shouts. “What are you waiting for?! No one is going to just drop her into your lap because you want her - you have to go get her yourself! Stop being a coward and go to her,” Jin wants to shake the foolish King.

Looking out at the land before him, Taehyung realizes he really doesn’t care about all of this. If you’re not by his side, he doesn’t want any of it - none of the riches or the fame. He wants your kindness and your smiles. He wants you reading him bedtime stories, expressing your wishes and deepest thoughts with him. Side by side, watching the stars like you had back at the cabin. Just the two of you.

“But I cannot do that to her,” he murmurs at last, shoulders drooping. “She wants a life for herself. If I profess my love to her and keep her here in the kingdom, she’ll never have the adventures and journeys she’s craving.”

Jin scoffs. Of all the time to be a good man, King Taehyung chooses now.

Suddenly, a wickedly good idea sparks into Jin’s mind!

Why didn’t he think of it before? This way, both the King and Y/N get their wishes to come true!

Grinning gleefully, he turns to face Taehyung - the younger looking at Jin skeptically.

“Why are you smiling like that? It is rather… unsettling,” he murmurs, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Oh, Your Majesty - I have just the thing for you.”

+++

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day.

You had quit your job at the tavern. Which means, no more money coming into your pockets, despite how little the wage already was. Now you have nothing coming in anymore, period.

Your supposed home is a tiny, broom closet. You’ve lost contact with all your former friends, minus Jin. The warlock still pops in from time to time to check on things. You’re grateful for the bond you two have, even though you’re certain it’s because Jin is still guilty of how he practically ruined your life.

When you returned back ‘home,’ you were certain you were going to take your life into your own hands. Adventures! Journeys! You wanted to visit the Isle of the Mere, see the North Kingdom — maybe take a yearlong cruise!

Taehyung had given you a hefty sum of money and shiny treasures for his gratitude to you for saving him countless times. Not that you wanted or needed it. If anything, it hurt you more knowing the King rewarded you with things for The Kiss.

Ah. The kiss… you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t affect you at all. Because, oh boy, it did.

After countless nights of tossing and turning, of having the man invade every single one of your thoughts throughout the day, you couldn’t help but finally take some serious self-reflection. You love(?) Kim Taehyung.

Even though he’s cocky, insane and a tad murderous — you miss him. You miss him listening to you when you told him your thoughts and feelings. You miss how comfortable you felt watching the stars in Namjoon’s backyard. You miss the way he went out of his way to make you happy, even in the form of a small pomeranian dog.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’ve stopped walking now, having arrived back at the cabin in the woods once more. Namjoon no longer lives here, having moved to Taehyung’s castle. You frown, it is truly uninhabited now.

Moving past the gate, you approach the front door, memories rushing back to you. Another sigh leaves you. You miss everyone. You miss the times you spent with them. No matter how trivial it might seem to them, it meant something special to you.

Suddenly, the neigh of a horse grabs your attention. Twirling around, you stare in shock at seeing a figure cloaked in deep blue robes on a magnificent stallion.

It’s Taehyung. You recognize that face a mile away. His hair is different, no longer the curly black, but now a bright, startling blue that matches his robes. He’s eyes widen when he notices you, quickly pulling his horse to a stop.

“Y-Y/N?” he asks, almost like he’s afraid he’s hallucinating.

“Hi,” you greet, soft and unsure.

“What are you doing here,” he wonders. “N-not that you’re not allowed here! You’re always allowed here - whenever you want…” he begins to trail off, tips of his ears turning red.

Your lips twitch. How cute.

“I was daydreaming and ended up back here,” you admit.

“You were,” he asks, surprised.

You nod. “May I ask what his Majesty is doing here? There are no royal guards… no druid, definitely no huntsman.” You can’t help the teasing lilt from lacing your tone.

Catching the sarcastic tint, Taehyung chuckles lowly, getting off his horse and walking closer to the front gate. “Well… I’m not stalking you if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t… I don’t want you dead anymore — like, at all.”

You bite your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile at bay.

Taking your silence as discomfort, he starts rambling. “Jin told me to come visit the cabin. He said there was something I needed to pick up here - clearly, he was putting me up to something. Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am! After all, you’re my saviour and I don’t - I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all…”

You walk towards him, stopping just shortly in front of him, the small gate dividing you two.

“I’m not uncomfortable, Your Grace. In fact,” you give him a small, but genuine smile. “I’m really happy to see you again. Even if you know, you’re not Caramel anymore.”

The blunette looks at you, unable to stop himself as he reaches out, hesitantly letting his fingers hover over your cheek. Noticing how unsure he is, you reach up, enveloping his large hand with yours, pressing the feel of his fingertips against the smooth expanse of your cheek. Your eyelids flutter at the touch, a content sigh leaving you.

“I’ll always be Caramel to you,” he whispers, like he’s afraid the moment will be ruined.

You watch him, gaze resting on his soft lips before moving up to his startling, electric gaze. By the gods. Jin was definitely right about Taehyung being the fairest of them all. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s watching you. How you crave to taste him again.

As if sensing your inner thoughts, His Majesty moves closer to you, his free hand resting shyly on your upper arm and drawing you closer. “I’ve missed you,” he admits, a breath away from your lips.

Your heart thunders in your chest, loud and erratically. “I’ve missed you, too,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded as you look back at him.

“Can I…?”

You nod, tilting your head and enjoying just how warm his body heat is against yours.

A few strands of blue locks tickle your forehead and your cheek, but you don’t care - all that matters is the feel of Taehyung’s lips against your own.

So close… so cl—

“Ahem!”

The sound springs both you and Taehyung apart, effectively ruining the mood.

“Sorry, was I interrupting?” Jin’s voice echoes from between you two.

You watch as Taehyung shoots you an apologetic smile, stuffing his hands into his robes, rummaging around before pulling out a small, compact mirror.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jin chirps, as if he didn’t just ruin a beautiful moment between you and the King. You wave, unable to keep the smile from your face. It’s nice to see Jin again - even though the warlock calls you daily.

“So,” Jin sing-songs, “I come bearing good news! I’ve spoken with Taehyung - er, His Majesty, and he has agreed to have you as his royal noblewoman. You are his Saviour, after all!”

“Me?” You question, taken aback.

“I did?” Taehyung blurts out.

You turn to face the blue-haired man, but he looks just as surprised as you. Jin shoots Taehyung a dirty look and you watch as the the King hastily excuses himself, spinning and exchanging, quiet, angry grunts with the mirror warlock.

“You didn’t tell me—“

“Because you would’ve backed out!”

“I’m your King…!”

“King, my ass—“

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s alright. I don’t want or need to be a noblewoman. I’m sure Jin is just being helpful, but really, it puts unnecessary burden on His Majesty and I couldn’t do that,” you bow, quickly apologizing.

“Y/N, please don’t. No need to address me so formally. I… I would love for you to be a noblewoman of my court. In fact,” Taehyung blushes. “I would love it if you would consider being my right hand, alongside Namjoon as royal advisor. You have… eye-opening insight into things that I don’t understand. I value that - and you, in my life.”

You stare, eyes wide as saucers.

“I-if you want!” Taehyung quickly tacks on, hoping he doesn’t sound desperate. “It’s entirely your choice. Don’t feel forced to do anything!”

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you bite back a laugh. He’s too cute for his own good.

“Well… I love to, Your Majesty.”

A look of loving awe is on his face. “Really?”

“Really.”

Taehyung can’t keep the grin from adorning his handsome features as you two ride back to his castle.

+++

Life with Taehyung is beautiful.

The two of you danced around another for a few more months. He never brought up the kiss and neither did you. You both shared knowing glances and shy smiles, the sexual tension impalpable, but neither of you acted on it. It grew to a point that even Jin was beginning to complain about you two making lovey-dovey eyes at one another while having breakfast.

Still, no one could say that they didn’t notice the way Taehyung’s eyes lit up when you entered the room. Or how your smile was so bright and genuine when you saw him in passing or when you two finally sat down for dinner together.

It was an unspoken bond you two shared, a bubble that only you two lived together in.

Gone were the rags and now you dressed in riches each day. Sometimes you found it stuffy: the corset, the bellowing dresses - they just weren’t for you.

Of course, Taehyung noticed. And when he did, he went out of his way to have custom tailored pieces of clothing for you. Some were pants, others were dresses that didn’t have as many layers and poofiness to it.

Even though he wasn’t your Caramel anymore, he remained as by your side as ever.

You two went on adventures and journeys together, sometimes to other royal functions and others to more common events. Nonetheless, you two were well known throughout the land as inseparable - constantly glued to one another.

After dancing around one another for what felt like centuries, you and Taehyung were together in the library one special afternoon — very much alone and very much aware of that.

It was rather quiet at first. You trying to read a book, while Taehyung browsed through numerous legal documents Namjoon and Jungkook gathered from Jimin’s latest visit.

A frustrated groan and the book you were reading was forgotten. “Need some help, Tae?”

Ever since you two became closer, Taehyung no longer wanted to hear ‘His Majesty’ falling from your lips. He treated you as an equal to him and here you were, even giving him a personal nickname that you only used in private.

“Please. These documents are going to be the death of me,” he grumbles, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Hiding your smile, you pull up a seat beside him, leafing through the many aged scrolls. “Wow, Yoongi wasn’t kidding when he said we would be busy…”

“Not the kind of busy, I want to be,” you hear the blue-haired man complain under his breath.

You two work in silence despite the ever growing tension. Hours pass by and you two are still nowhere near done. You notice the stars are beginning to light the sky outside the window, the lantern dimming with the wax melting.

Moaning, you stretch, arms lifted above your head, your body taunt for just a split moment. You miss the way Taehyung’s mouth waters at the sight of slightly exposed skin - your navel. He draws his gaze away quickly, leaning forward to reach another document.

Unfortunately (read, fortunately), you’re also reaching for the same scroll. You tug, just as he pulls.

You go flying forward from the unexpected strength and Taehyung drops the scroll, immediately wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling.

This close, you’re able to see just how long his lashes are. Wow. You blush.

“S-sorry,” you murmur, leaning up, your hands resting on his firm (has he been working out?) chest. You draw your gaze away from what may lay beneath the silken robes, eyes meeting his.

It’s quiet, save for the occasional drip of melting candle wax and the quiet creaks of the castle walls.

Taehyung can’t help the way his heart beats. You look breathtakingly beautiful in the dim lighting, similar to how you looked on the cabin porch all those months ago.

It’s now or never, he thinks. Fuck it—

“I want you.” Taehyung whispers, worried he’ll scare you away.

You draw back just slightly, drinking in his gaze. There’s not a single sign of hesitation or lie in his warm, brown eyes.  

“As do I,” you smile, sliding your hand up to gently cup his cheek.

He hums, tension bleeding out of his body at your response. He melts into your touch much in the same way his dog counterpart had many moons ago. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you confess, saying it out loud for the first time in your life. Taehyung’s eyes twinkle in the most beautiful way and it makes you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Let’s make a deal then,” you begin, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. “I’ll call a truce. Let you be known as the fairest of them all, as long as you promise to never try to murder me again.” You’re teasing him, playfully giggling.

You no longer hold any grudges and you’ve done nothing but let Taehyung know this ever since you’ve agreed to stay and live with him. Now, though, you know he finally hears and believes you.

Taehyung can’t help the smile that takes over. It’s boxy and youthful, lighting up his face in a boyish way and you love this expression on him more than anything. “Sure. And…” he wraps an arm tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “If you still love me in one year, we’ll get married.”

You scoff, but there isn’t any heat to your words. “What makes you think I’ll agree to that?”

“Because I love you and you love me, if I remember correctly,” he teases cheekily. You chuckle, melting into his embrace.

“Okay,” you whisper, agreeing to so much more.

“Okay?” he asks, just to make sure.

“Okay — yes. I’ll marry you, if you still love me in one year,” you giggle, agreeing.

Taehyung laughs and it is the single, most beautiful sound you’ve heard in all your life. You want to hear more of it and you want to be the reason for it even more.

“Now… before you let me officially court you, we need to finish these dreadful documents. And find out how to undo the curse on Jin. After all, we won’t hear the end of it if he’s not physically at the wedding!”

You nod, beaming, but you can’t help the way your heart flutters with how close Taehyung is beside you. “If you turn into a dog again, fair warning, I’m keeping you that way. Far cuter,” you tease.

Taehyung chuckles, “but then I can’t do this.”

Blinking, you draw back slightly. “Do what?”

He gives you a moment to reconsider, but you tilt your face and Taehyung leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Do it again,” you whisper breathlessly, grip tightening on him.

Smiling, your lover leans down again. “As you wish, My Lady.”

You meet him halfway, your lips molding perfectly against his.

And so, as they say, in the Land of Fairytales…

Y/N and Taehyung lived Happily Ever After.

_______________________________________________

***Epilogue***

“Now that we’re married, we need to have an heir,” your husband logically reasons.

You laugh, turning to face him. You two have been recently wed and are now on your honeymoon.

All was well within the Land of Fairytales.

Jin was now a physical warlock again, no longer trapped inside the mirror. Said mirror was still in the throne room, though it now was kept as decoration and nostalgic memory more than anything else. He had decided to stay with you and Taehyung after he was set free, working alongside your husband as his close confidante and as Jin puts it, your personal ‘civilian consultant’. This meant that Jin would come and go as he pleases from the castle walls, blending in with everyone to get the latest details in case anything were to go awry for Taehyung or Jimin. How he got out of the mirror though… that is a tale for another time.

Now, onto the others: Jimin is happily running both Kingdoms while you and Taehyung are away. There’s a rumour floating around that he has eyes set on someone who’s just as stunning and kind-hearted as he. Jungkook and Hoseok remain the ever loyal, royal bodyguards. Though Hoseok smiles a lot more now that he’s got a brother in arms that he can trust to watch his back. Yoongi and Namjoon continue their royal advisor duties. In their spare time, along with Jin, the trio are browsing through ancient texts, learning more about the world of Magic and their endless properties.

Thus it leaves you and your husband. Married after a year of kisses, tears (good and bad), stargazing, browsing through magic texts, adventuring together to neighbouring kingdoms and worlds, and so much more. Together you’ve done it all and together you’ll continue to do it.

“Right now?” you tease, rubbing scented body oil onto your skin.

Taehyung watches you from his spot on your shared bed. He’s leaning down on his side and facing you, his eyes transfixed on you like a predator.

“All is well in the Kingdoms… we should have an heir,” Taehyung shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I dare say, you are just a horny dog,” you laugh, standing and knowing Taehyung is watching the way your silk robes fall around you, accentuating your curves for his eyes to feast upon.

“Is that new,” he wonders, sitting up to move towards the edge of the bed and reaching for you.

You hum, letting him pull you close so that his face rests happily against your chest.

“I bought it during our visit to the Fae Queen.”

Your husband makes a face and you laugh softly at that. “I didn’t like her.”

“Oh? She certainly took a liking to you. Heard all about how beautiful you are,” you continue to tease.

Taehyung huffs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t care,” he mumbles, listening to your heartbeat in your chest. “You are far more beautiful.”

“I love you,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair gently.

“And I,” he begins, drawing back and pulling you down onto the bed. You gasp, falling forward. Catching yourself, you caging him between you, your arms and legs on either side of him. “I absolutely love you,” he purrs, eyes flashing.

You lean down and he meets you halfway. You both kiss, softly at first, but soon it becomes more passionate and heated with every second that passed.

His fingers are tugging at the silken knot of your robe, undoing it quickly and you draw back just enough, lips never leaving his. You slide the robe off of you, letting it pool around your waist. Taehyung tugs it off, the cloth discarded somewhere in the room.

His tongue licks at your lips for entrance and you more than eagerly grant him access. He sighs into your mouth, one hand cradling your back while the other is gripping at your exposed thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust.

“As are you, my Love,” you purr, pleasure seeping through you. You grind down ever so gently and he hisses, grip tightening on you. He’s hard now and you feel wetness pool into your centre at the stimulation.

The next moment, you’re pinned onto the bed, his lithe form above yours. “Fuck,” he grunts, eyes zeroing in on the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear to bed. “For me?” he wonders in awe.

You nod, biting on your bottom lip to hold back the whimper as his index finger drags down your cloth covered slit.

Smirking, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “Use your words, sweetheart. You know how I enjoy our chats.”

Seeing you roll your eyes, he laughs.

Reaching a hand down, he cups your breast as you had forgone a bra tonight, rolling the nipple beneath his thumb and groaning when you gasp. Bringing his face closer, his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth greedily. His tongue is hot and wet, fingers coming up to pinch the other one.

You gasp, head thrown back, fingers threading through his hair in delight. Taehyung has a very talented mouth.

He moves away, bringing his lips to your exposed throat, sucking and pressing wet, open kisses against your skin. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers hungrily.

Not one to let your husband have the reigns just yet, you lean back onto your elbows, spreading your legs a bit more. You watch the way Taehyung’s eyes darken and practically salivate when he notices how soaked your panties are.

“I want your tongue in my pussy,” you taunt. “Fucking me with it until I cum.”

“Yes,” he growls.

His hand immediately flies forward, one to keep your thigh apart and the other slipping underneath the red lace. You hiss when you feel his nail scrape slightly, just enough to tease you. Watching your reaction, he smirks before he sinks one finger into you. You gasp loudly, body arching in delight at the way he stretches you. Hell — he’s good at this too.

The sight is delicious. Taehyung’s whole hand inside your panties, stretching the fabric and bulging it while he fingers your wet, clenching hole.

He finger fucks you until your grinding down, a gasp leaving your lips, eyes squeezed shut. You look so beautiful, your own fingers gripping the bedsheets to hold onto something as Taehyung makes you fall apart.

“Tae - I asked for you mouth,” you whimper, eyes half-lidded as you gaze back at him, pleasure coursing through you.

“Is that so,” he teases, a lazy smirk on his handsome face.

God, how you hate and love that smirk all at the same time.

“Taehyung,” you beg.

It’s on deaf ears because he presses two fingers next, the burn making your head spin with want. He knows just how you like that stretch, the burn that soon turns to immense pleasure.

Without warning, he removes his fingers and spreads your thighs with ease. You gasp as he dives in like a starved man. The lace underwear is lifted to the side as his mouth is on you within a moment, sucking your folds. The lewd sounds that echo in the room are embarrassing and you bring an arm up to cover your face. Your husband is enjoying himself a little too much, groaning at your taste. He watches you, watches the way you writhe in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he warns authoritatively, eyes flashing, one hand slapping your thigh. You quickly pull your arm away, eyes meeting his. They’re like molten lava, burning you to the very core.

You watch him, watch the way he devours you like you are his last meal. You can’t help yourself, the gasps and whimpers of pleasure leaving you as you ever so gently grind down on his face, rubbing your pussy deliciously against his nose and mouth. Your juices are soaking his chin and yet, you want so much more. Sensing it’s not enough, he brings his fingers back to your core, teasing your clit before sinking them inside you along with his talented tongue. The sounds you make are making him harder than he’d like to admit, gingerly rutting himself into the bed for some relief.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, fingers finding his hair and tugging. “Ah — I’m c-cum—,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut. The words aren’t even fully out of your mouth before you’re pushed off the edge, coming hard. Taehyung’s efforts doubling as he keeps you against his tongue, working you through your intense orgasm.

Your husband keeps his rhythm up, until your fingers begin to gently nudge him off of you. Finally pulling away, he smirks at you, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and popping them into his mouth. You feel your stomach stir in delight at the way his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking your juices off, the lewd scene making you groan in pleasure at the sight.

“You pervert,” you grumble, no bite to your words as you wrap a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is anything but innocent, tongues battling for dominance as you taste yourself on him.

“Want you,” you pout, pulling away. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you and you bite back a giggle at the way his eyes darken. Not waiting another moment, you tug his pants down, eyes feasting on the delicious sight before you.

Taehyung is hard.

His cock is big and when you reach out to wrap your hand around him, he’s hard and heavy in your grip. You moan at the sight of precum on his tip. Bending, you bring your mouth to him. You lick at the slit, earning a hiss from your lover, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you press kittenish licks here and there, before sticking your tongue out and sliding from tip to top. You envelope your mouth around one of his balls, sucking obscenely and using your hand to jerk off his hard cock simultaneously.  His taste is something you can’t live without, you realize not for the first time.

You release him, popping off lewdly as you continue to suck on his cock, eyes fluttering close at the salty taste. You want to take him fully into your mouth — have him hold you down as you deepthroat and choke on his cock — have him facefuck you until you’re crying, but his fingers find their way into your hair, curling into a fist and tugging you up and off of him.

“Next time,” he growls, voice hard. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

You gaze up at him, unable to believe this is the same man that once hated you and in turn, accidentally turned into your adorable pomeranian stray. Now he’s your most beloved, your cherished half to the very end.

“I love you,” you murmur, unable to stop the words from leaving you.

His gaze softens and he brings you close, pressing a warm, soft kiss to your lips. “I love you more,” he hums, lips leaving yours to trail down your throat. “Lay back,” he groans, leaning back on his heels as he languidly strokes his hardened length. You’re entranced by the sight, but his words have you scrambling to obey.

Not wasting another moment, you lay back against the pillows, easily and lewdly spreading your legs for your husband after slipping your panties off and dropping them to the side. His gaze is sinful as he watches you, dark fringe hanging over his eyes.

You can see the way he’s straining to hold himself back. A faint smirk ghosts your lips, purposely tilting your head back, your free hand trailing your index finger over your inner thigh, inching closer to your swollen core. You are completely naked before him and Taehyung feels his breath hitch.

“You brat,” he chuckles breathlessly.

He moves towards you and you grab at his arms, pulling him against you. Using your hand, you take his cock into your grasp, moving it closer towards your centre. You both watch as you push his head into your entrance. Moans leave both of you as he sinks into you completely, filling you so fucking perfectly.

“Teach me a lesson,” you purr, licking a strip along his exposed neck, trailing your lips upwards until you’re enveloping his ear in a teasing suck.

Taehyung hisses and before you know it, he’s pulled out of you with you suddenly flipped onto your front — hands and knees.

A thrill shoots up your spine at the dominating aura rolling off your lover. Despite his rough manhandling, you smile to yourself when you feel his breath ghost behind your ear, one hand smoothing down your spine lovingly. “Is this alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back into his touch.

Taehyung moans and you feel him enter you in this position, hitting a whole new level of ecstasy. Your eyes flutter shut as you grip at the bedsheets, arching and pressing yourself until he’s fully seated inside you.

He chuckles at the way you give in to him, pulling back and making you writhe in pleasure at the way his thick cock hits your deepest parts. Each push and pull against your walls making you gasp in pleasure.

Your husband draws back just enough to spread your ass cheeks, watching the way his length sinks back into you and he groans — the perv, you think, unable to keep yourself from clenching at the thought. The fact that he’s getting off to this as much as you are — by the gods, you love this man.

Taehyung grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging you up so that your back is arched and pressed firmly against his chest. He smirks against your ear, pounding into you with a harsher rhythm now. “Fuck, look at you,” he teases, but his voice is breathless and he’s having trouble trying to keep himself together with how good you feel.

He’s panting into your ear like an animal in heat, one hand now wrapped securely around your throat, the other on your hip in a bruising grip. You laugh breathlessly, head thrown back and eyes closed — you just know the marks will be beautiful tomorrow morning.

“Tae—,” you whimper, moving in tandem with him. You feel just how much he throbs inside you, his cock wants release — you know his end is near, too. You chase your own high, your hips undulating and moans leaving your throat — fuck, you feel so good right now.

Noticing the lacy red underwear that you had discarded aside earlier, you reach for them and beam in triumph when your fingers enclose around the soft material. Balling it in your hand, you tilt your head back to see him biting on his bottom lip, thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer to his end.

Smirking, you shove the lacy material into his mouth, keeping your hand enclosed so that he can’t spit your panties out.

Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sudden onslaught, dark orbs watching you with unrestrained lust. He hisses something, it’s garbled but you can make out an expletive and your name.

His hand leaves your hip, finding your clit and begins rubbing furiously with two, slender digits. You gasp at the sudden onslaught of sensations, one hand still wrapped tightly around your throat, keeping your face tipped upwards.

You open your eyes, meeting his dark orbs. So fucking beautiful.

“I-inside,” you gasp, “cum inside, T-Tae—!“

It’s all you manage to get out, his fingers abusing your swollen clit, the rub so deliciously hot — you scream his name, body arching tightly as the cord unexpectedly snaps. Your hands fly up, one gripping at his sweaty, firm shoulder, the other on his round ass; anchoring you as you reach another euphoric orgasm.

Taehyung groans, spit soaking and dripping from his mouth onto your ruined panties. Still, he keeps it as a makeshift gag, dark eyes watching you tauntingly. He’s surrounded by your scent right now, inhaling you deeply. He begins to fuck you like a raged animal and you take it because it feels so good.

Even though your body is sore and used, you let him continue his assault. It won’t feel satisfying until he cums deep inside you. Impregnating you with his seed — claiming you for his own.

A deep, warning groan leaves his throat.

You tilt your face to watch as Taehyung uses your body like the good cumslut you are to reach his end. His eyes are dark, brows furrowed. His gaze falls upon you and you muster a tired smirk.

“Cum,” you weakly order, a whimper leaving you at the way he’s fucking your tired, oversensitive pussy.

That moment is all he needs —

you feel his body tighten and then he drops down onto you, sloppily thrusting into your sweet cunt as he holds you down.

“F-fuck—,” he hisses through your underwear, pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in your neck — an animalistic growl echoing from his throat — bucking up into you desperately now.

It’s so filthy and dirty and you love it.

You gasp in pleasure, feeling the now drenched panties fall from his mouth and onto your back.

His mouth presses open, wet kisses wherever he can reach — your neck, shoulder blade, ear, your cheek.

Taehyung cums and he fills your sweet cunt with his thick, hot seed. You reach your hand back, grabbing at his side to anchor yourself as he uses your body a few more thrusts, riding out his orgasm, both your juices making a squelching sound each time he fucks into your swollen pussy again.

Despite the angle of your arm, you manage to pull him closer, gasping silently. He pumps you full of his hot cum, so much that you’re certain without his cock the ropes of jizz would leak out of you. Your breathing is harsh, body twitching ever so slightly at the feeling of being filled with Taehyung’s thick load.

Said man isn’t much better off either, he’s panting in delight, peppering your exposed skin with kisses as he rides his orgasm out, rope after rope of thick white filling you just like what he wants. Even when he stills, you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him, an added spurt leaving his softening cock to fill you up even more.

“Mmm,” you giggle breathlessly, one hand reaching up to entangle your fingers into his soft hair. “Think I’m pregnant yet?”

Taehyung laughs, the happy sound making your heart stir. “We can always do it again,” he winks, slowly and carefully pulling himself from you. Your body is turned until your on your back, meeting warm, brown eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?” he wonders, wet fringe sticking to his forehead.

“Absolutely,” you smile softly, fingers quickly tugging him down for a deep kiss.

Taehyung kisses back, making sure he doesn’t crush you with his weight. You wince when he pulls away and worrisome eyes fall on you. “Y/N…”

Your gaze falls to your thighs and you flush at seeing just how wet they are, Taehyung’s cum seeping out of your swollen centre and soaking the bedsheets mixed with your own arousal. “My goodness, you came a lot, Your Majesty,” you coyly tease.

Said King groans, dropping his face into your neck, one arm sliding around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Don’t tease me, my Love, I think I can go again.”

Your eyes widen a fraction and you feel heat stir inside you at the thought of being fucked like that again. “In a moment, I’m going to ride you,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I will only stop after you’ve filled me with another load of your seed.”

He laughs, the voice deep and soothing to your soul. “I truly, truly love you, Y/N.”

Tilting your face up, you meet his warm, loving gaze. There’s a bright smile on his handsome features, dark fringe hanging over his almond-shaped eyes and it makes your heart stir. Not just his beauty, but his soul and the feelings that fill you from the bottom of your heart because it’s him.

“And I,” you lean in closer; Taehyung meeting you halfway. “I truly love you, Taehyung.”

His arms feel like home and his lips… they’re just the icing on the cake of your happily ever after.

The End.

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.2

This is the second chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3.9k words

previous chapter

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella Swan is introduced to a possible new friend and receives a gift. The doctors new family may not be as well adjusted to small town life as Charlie would like.

Chapter Two

The next morning I wake up to a growl of thunder beating against the inside of my skull. I had a night of thankfully restful sleep for once, only waking up to get a glass of water. My hands are clasped against my chest, fingers knotted in annoyance as I hold back what likely will be a spill of expletives. Why must there always be noise? Why can I not sleep soundly and awake soundly, just once?

I open one eye experimentally, hoping the sun has already arisen and I won’t be missing out on any leftover sleep. My room is shrouded in darkness. The expletives, swear words crude enough to make a priest gag, spill out in a muttered breath and my hands squeeze against each other once more before reaching for my alarm clock. The red numbers blink back at me and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the light before I read the time. Nine in the morning. I look back to the window where my blinds are drawn closed, but still no light, even filtered through the canopy of clouds, peaks at the edges. 

The thunder, which had gone quiet after waking me up initially, rolls again for a moment before silencing itself. Only, was it thunder? It sounded heavy, like machinery but with a deeper growl. Was there construction nearby? I didn’t recall any on my few trips up and down the street, and I question why there would need to be any construction anyways. It’s not as if this is a booming neighbourhood with a subdivision being built. 

Charlie knocks against my door, quieter than yesterday. “Bella, it’s time to get up.” You’d imagine that with my age being nearly twenty and my status as a legal adult I’d be allowed to choose my own time to wake up. My annoyance dies down quickly when my thoughts bounce back to Phoenix, waking up early each morning to drive Mom into her early morning classes. Nine in the morning really isn’t that early, in fact, it allows me time to get some chores done before class. “Someone has dropped by.”

My lips contort into an annoyed pucker. Who would have stopped by? Mom had warned me before the move that nothing but rumours and nasty mold comes from Forks. Apparently her quick marriage to Charlie, and even quicker pregnancy with me, was enough gossip to fuel conversations for years. I remember a trip to Forks at eight years old, a woman had stopped my mother in the grocery store and asked her over for coffee. “They just want the inside scoop,” Renee had told me afterwards, “Give them anything and they’ll find a way to make it ugly.”

My bare feet brush the ground and a flash of cold spreads up my shins. Apparently, even in spring, the weather is dangerously cold. I tell Charlie I’ll be downstairs in a moment, pulling on a pair of jeans and thermal socks. I was hoping for a relaxing day alone, just me, my sweatpants, and the laptop. I compromise on the socks, regardless of who is downstairs, my toes will not be cold today.

I pull the blinds open, the lawn stretching out beside the house is bathed in shadowy darkness despite the morning hour. The forest that lines our property, secluding us from the neighbours, is eerie and mysterious. The green tones that I initially found alien and too bright are now gone and replaced with navy. I wait a moment, staring into the trees, my thoughts rambling into fairytale imaginations. 

My brain conjures an image of a man, tall and insidious, stepping out of the tree line, long claws attached to his fingers and a nasty grin revealing pointed teeth. His shirt is ripped in the front, a long tear reaching from throat to navel and from inside the shirt tufts of hair stick out. No, not hair, fur. He growls menacingly. 

I close the blinds quickly and blink against the pictures my brain throws at me. 

The landline rings downstairs and startles me, a jolt of anxious adrenaline surging through my cold feet and up into my heart. Maybe one of the reasons I enjoyed Phoenix’s barren, plain landscape was that I would not be subjected to such terrible thoughts. I remember being twelve and watching Scream with my mother, she was on a horror movie kick and had rented a whole stack of DVDs for us to watch. That night when I was tired but my eyes refused to close as I didn’t want to imagine what could be lurking outside my bedroom window. Crawling into my mother’s bed, she ran her warm palm against my forehead and hummed a song until I calmed down. 

“Bella,” she had said quietly, the nurturing lilt of her voice expanding my heart, “We live in a desert. You can see for miles and miles and miles, if some bad man was coming we’d see him from forty minutes away.” I giggled quietly into the comforter, our bodies pressed against each other in near sleep and my mother’s hands maneuvering through my hair with expertise. 

Now, I look out at the grassy lawn from a crack between the blinds. It resembles the set of a slasher movie, the forest borders it with every possibility my imagination can muster. I can see a man from four seconds away, not forty minutes.

There's a chorus of male laughter from below and I sigh, assuming this is my cue to go downstairs and meet with whoever has stopped in.

Charlie is sitting in the living room, facing me and his back to the television which is decidedly blank. On the couch is a head of glossy, black hair. Beside him is a wheelchair with an older man sitting in it, a mug clasped between dark hands. I curse whatever forces brought these strangers into the house so early, I am not in the mood for interaction. I was hoping for a bowl of oatmeal and a quiet morning. 

“Hey!” Charlie braces his hands on his knees and pushes out of the armchair. His face is split in half with a grin. I can’t recall him smiling this large in the past week of my stay. The two men turn, facing me with warm smiles.

One of them is older, perhaps Charlie's age, his mouth creased with smile lines and his eyes wrinkled with sun damage. His skin is a warm russet brown, his eyes deep-set behind pronounced brows and a large smile. Bright white teeth stare back at me as my brain picks over his features, how do I know this man? I know almost immediately that he’s Quileute, from the Reservation to the west of town. I vaguely remember trips to the beach with Charlie and eating hotdogs over fires with some of the children from the area. 

“Do you remember me, Bella?” He asks in a deep, commanding tone. His voice transports me back to the beach, collecting colourful rocks with the other kids and being called to dinner. Billy Black. He lives in a small, red house with a large kitchen perfect for gatherings. He’s older than I remember, but my last time being here for any substantial time was nearly four years ago. 

“Dad, c’mon,” the boy says with a sarcastic eye roll. He stands from the couch, his height towering mine by a few inches and his broad shoulders slumped forward happily. I wonder how tall he’d be if he stood to his full height. His voice is deep, not as deep as his father’s, but still an indicator of the family resemblance. Where his father is strong and sure, this boy is aloof and casual. Jacob Black. “She hasn’t been back in ages, she probably blocked your nasty attitude out of her memory.” 

I bite back a smile, but Billy laughs and shoots Charlie a look that says, kids, am I right? I step forward and extend my hand to Jacob, who takes it gratefully in his own and gives a soft shake. His hand covers mine and is most definitely a few degrees warmer than I am. “Jacob Black, we used to make mud pies together.”

“Best in town,” Charlie adds in from the back of the room. I smile. 

“No, no, I remember you guys,” I tell the Blacks. “It just took me a moment.” Charlies sits back down in his chair and motions for me to take a seat. 

“Billy and Jake just stopped by,” my father explains. I sit beside Jacob on the couch, a cushion between us. But, even with the provided space and the lack of physical contact, I feel heat come off of him in waves like a radiator. I wonder if he’s sick. “Jake here is a mechanic.” A furious blush settles under the boy's brown skin as his mechanical skills are brought up, this is my first time hearing of his expertise. I remember his sisters being twins, both tall and beautiful with matching smiles. They were almost two years older than me, Jacob had followed closely behind and was only born in the same six months as me. Of course, now that I try to remember, the date falls short in my memory. It’s possible he has a career as a mechanic somewhere on the Reservation, but he mustn’t work in Forks. I hadn’t seen a single mechanics garage in town. 

“No, no,” he looks between me and my father with an apologetic smile, “it’s just a hobby. Something for fun.” Billy tsks at his son, shaking his head in a way that makes me believe this conversation has occurred before. 

“Hobbies can bring in money, hobbies can turn into jobs,” the older man says with a scolding tone. Jacob just shakes his head crookedly, not responding. Charlie takes this as his cue to interrupt the trajectory of the conversation, and I’m grateful. I haven’t spoken to these men in nearly four years, that last place I want to be is in the middle of a family feud. 

“Well, now, there was a reason I brought up Jake’s skills,” Charlie interjects with a wave at the large boy next to me. “Bells, go take a look outside.” My fingers twitch anxiously in my lap at being thrust into the center of the conversation. I was hoping I could slide under the radar here, not end up in the middle of it. 

It takes great restraint for me to get up from the couch and not stumble over my ankles in the act, my clumsiness reaches new heights when I’m being watched by a room of people. Even if there are only three people in the room. The window at the end of the room is open, the curtains pulled to the side, and when I reach it my gaze falls on a group of kids biking down the street with a rainbow of helmets. Apparently, the dark sky doesn’t scare them the way it does me. 

They pedal quickly, little screams of delight just barely audible through the thick glass of the living room window. They pass the porch and disappear behind a large red truck parked out front of the house. I blink. It’s still there, rounded fenders and shiny door handles, long bed, ancient grill adorning the hood. It’s beautiful. “Is that your truck, Billy?” There’s a chorus of laughter behind me, the men’s baritones mixing and producing a flaming blush starting at my neck and creeping up into my face. I turn to look at them, my stomach clenching as I turn away from the beautiful vehicle. “What?” 

“It’s yours, Bella,” Charlie tells me. The breath I was holding leaves my lungs through my gaping mouth, I struggle to close it and take an experimental inhale. “Bella?” I turn and look back out the window, the glorious truck still sits there staring at me from across the dark lawn. I can only imagine how beautiful it is in the sunlight.

“I- it’s mine?” I ask. Another series of laughs echo through and then footsteps come up beside me, Jacob stands looking out the window. “You made it?” I question, looking up at him. 

His shoulders shake silently and his lips press together as he tries to compose himself, I’m not sure why he finds my comment so funny but it reignites my blush. “I fixed it up, yeah. But, don’t get too excited. The thing runs at sixty miles max, push her further than that and you’ll be walking home.” 

We all go outside quickly, me leading the pack with an excited skip in my step. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall on my face or stumble over my words as I spoke my thoughts aloud. “It’s so pretty, I love it! Jake, I have no idea how you could make it look so perfect.” The truck sits against the curb, its red paint flaking in places around the tires, but even more perfect than I could have imagined. 

The sky is a disturbing shade of grey, a fact that irritates me more outside than it did in the house. Why does the weather have to ruin such a perfectly good moment? But I spend the majority of my time on the vehicle, petting its sides carefully like I might damage it. Finally, seemingly having had enough of me quietly admiring the vehicle, Billy tells me to hop in and check it out on the inside. 

Jacob produces a set of keys, no automatic locking mechanism, and twists it in the truck's door handle. He holds the door open for me, producing a hand to help me in. I take it gratefully, stepping up into the driver’s seat and letting myself sink into the seat. Jacob closes the door on me, but my thoughts are lost and focused only on how much I love this truck. 

“So,” he says after opening the passenger door and climbing up next to me, “You ever driven a truck before?” I shake my head, fingers curving experimentally around the thin steering wheel. I can see myself now: driving down the empty highway, the sun blinding against the dry pavement, window down and hair blowing, radio blaring. It’s exactly what I needed, a way for me to get around without needing to borrow the cruiser (which, yes, is illegal) or have Charlie drive me around. 

“I can give you lessons,” Jake offers, fingers clasped in his lap, drumming a tune against the opposite knuckles. “If not that’s cool, but she drives a little funny.” “She?” I ask, eyes leaving the steering wheel momentarily to watch his face. He notices, the serene expression dropping from his face and replaced with a quick upturn of his lips. 

“Uh, yeah.” He palms the back of his neck roughly and seems almost apologetic. “I have a thing for cars, y’know, so naming them is kinda part of the deal.” I can barely make out a faint red tinge over his cheeks. “Wait, hold on,” I can’t contain the giggle that slips out but firmly press my lips together before trying again. I can only imagine the toothy smile I’m giving him, a girl all too excited over some old truck. Only, this is the perfect old truck. “What’s her name?”

“Betty,” he responds sheepishly, his hand still massaging the back of his neck. “But if you tell anybody that I’ll have to kill you.” 

“That’s okay, Betty is our secret.” 

And, just like that, I now have a secret with someone. Does this make us friends? Regardless of whatever it makes us, my heart sings happily from within my chest, excited to think that maybe Forks won’t be as lonesome as it’s been this past week. Maybe Jacob and I will become friends and bond over Betty and I won’t only have Charlie and school and books. 

“Well, before you accept her turn the keys,” Jacob instructs. I oblige, setting the keys in the ignition and giving them a gentle twist. A roar of mechanical thunder envelopes us. I nearly leap out of my seat in surprise, the loud rumbling of the engine settling in my ears and blocking out all other noises. Jake says something but I can barely hear him from over the thunderous growl of Betty. I turn the keys back and the truck dies down with one last rumble. “She’s loud,” he says obviously. 

“She’s perfect.” 

Jacob hands me a spare set of keys after we get out, telling me that he’ll be back the day after tomorrow to give me my first driving lesson in the truck. Charlie was all too excited with that idea, even though I already have my license and know how to drive. In fact, other than illegally borrowing the cruiser with Charlie’s permission, I have never committed an illegal act involving a vehicle. If memory serves me correctly, Charlie has two speeding tickets from his youth. 

But, I don’t argue against Jake's offer. In fact, I thank him profusely and promise to pay him for the lessons. “Bella,” he says in an exasperated way, as if we’ve known each other for years and I always say such supposedly outlandish things. “Why would you pay me for something I’m offering to you?” 

We’ve stopped in front of the Blacks vehicle, a large brown and beige truck which seems to only be a decade newer than the red one. This isn’t saying much for the brown vehicle as the red one could be from the fifties. Billy is wheeling his way down the driveway with Charlie walking beside him, laughing emphatically at something his friend had said. 

“That’s crazy,” I respond with a shake of my head. “That’s like me not paying you for the truck.”

“Yeah, I know.” I take pause at this, the words welling up inside my brain and the meaning lost to me for only a moment. Then, like finally finding the missing puzzle piece under the table, I understand what this means and the picture is clear. 

“You- I- This truck isn’t free.” The words stutter out of me, the first two the beginnings of messages I abandoned immediately after starting them. This truck, though old, is not cheap, and neither is Jakes’s skill. I should pay him for labour if nothing else, but I know he doesn’t want to include that in the bill. He doesn't want to send me a bill. 

“It’s a gift,” he states simply with a shrug of his wide shoulders. Billy pulls up beside me, slapping away Charlie's hand as he tries to adjust his chair for him.

“Careful, Swan,” the older Black warns with hostility. “I have more muscle in these arms than you do in your entire body. Touch the chair and you’ll get what’s coming to you.” 

Jacob helps Billy into the passenger seat, folding up the wheelchair and securing it into the truck bed with quick hands. Charlie stands beside me, shooting fiery threats back and forth with his friend until Jacob climbs behind the wheel. “Storm coming through,” Jacob says with a wave towards the dark sky. “If you need any help with anything, tying stuff down or moving let me know.” Charlie thanks him for the offer and I lean in to thank him again for the truck and the lessons. I also assure him that the argument over billing is far from over and that he’ll get an earful the next time we meet. 

The rest of the day is spent restlessly. I log into my online classes but my attention is continuously claimed by my truck in front of the house. The sun never shows itself, content with hiding behind the cloud coverage. I’m sitting in the living room when Charlie gets home for dinner, my book discarded on the couch somewhere beside me. I reach for it once I see his cruiser pull into the driveway, deciding it would be better to look busy than to look like I’m obsessing over my new means of transportation.

“Bella?” He calls, the door shutting behind him with a creak. At some point I’ll have to oil all the hinges in the house. It’s that or I go clinically insane from the constant noise. 

“Yeah, just in here.” 

He comes in bearing a brown bag with the Forks Diner logo written on the side. “I brought dinner, it’ll be on the stove.” I nod and thank him, telling him that we can eat together once he’s down and out of uniform. “Well, actually, I won’t be eating until a bit later.” His moustache twitches irritably and he disappears into the kitchen to drop the food off. 

“Are you meeting with Billy?” I ask, knowing this isn’t the case. It must be an issue with work causing him to feel stressed. And when he comes back into the living room from the kitchen I’m able to see the tension holding his shoulders in place. “Did something happen at work?” “It’s nothing to worry about,” he assures me, but his words do anything but. So much for police chief being a boring job. “Just those new kids in town, the doctors children,” he waves a hand in the air as if trying to gather his thoughts. “Kicking up trouble in their first week here, something about racing.” 

“Oh.” I pull my knees under me and turn to face him fully, my arms hanging over the back of the couch like a child. 

“Anyways, no big deal I’m sure they’re just used to city life or something.” But, my fathers tone indicates that he most definitely does not believe his own words. In Charlie's books a bad apple is always a bad apple, and he’s probably dreading all the other trouble these kids will kick up. “I’ve just gotta go check-in with them, make sure it doesn’t happen again.” His hand moves towards my arm, as if to pat me goodbye but it stutters midair, falling back to his side awkwardly. 

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, biting on it as he mutters a goodbye and leaves through the front door without looking at me again. I wonder when this will get any easier. 

Renee left Charlie a year into their young marriage, taking me away to live with her in Arizona. She had given me partial reasons over the years for her leaving, talking of them being too young, the weather too wet, how she wanted a life where she could be free from responsibilities. I’m not sure whether it dawned on her that a child constitutes a responsibility, but she took me to every yoga class and rarely left me with a babysitter. 

My mother was never too keen on Forks, not that I fault her for it, the weather leaves much to be desired and there’s virtually nothing to do. But, because of her disliking I rarely visited my father, my first extended visit being when I was twelve and stayed the entire summer as Renee travelled with her then-boyfriend. I came back to a scrapbook of kissy photos and pressed leaves from her travels, all I had to show for my trip was a runny nose and a strong distaste for hamburgers. One can only eat so many burgers before the novelty wears off.

taglist: @musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos​

[wreckofawriter]

Pulled Apart

~Part 1~ ~Part 3~

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Regulus Black x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing?

Summary: Everyone is lost in the world as the man soon to be called the Dark Lord rises to power. Your parents are already ready to give their life along with your own for this man. You spend your seventh year in Hogwarts being pulled apart by the expectations for you and the hope placed in you by your childhood friend Sirius and his closest companions

A/n: Sorry I've been so inactive. I just finished my last week of school and I had a shit ton of projects to do and now its summer so I feel empty... anyway hope you guys like it! Also check out my 2k celebration

    A soft giggle met your ears, its familiarity was hypnotizing, its source just out of reach. You gazed around the room trying to find the origin of the noise, the shimmering gowns and sharp sound of heels on marble confused your senses. You felt a soft tap on your shoulder, the feeling of relief rolled over you as you greeted the curious grey eyes of your best friend. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek but instead of meeting skin, your fingers fell through as if you had tried to hold the wind. Suddenly you were shoved forward falling through the mist you had been convinced was Sirius and landing on the ballroom floor. Your white dress spilled around you as you tried to stand. 

    “Y/n, are you alright?” 

    You looked up to see Regulus, he was dressed in a formal suit, his hair brushed back from his face. He held his hand as an offer which you took. As you were pulled upright you glanced down at your gown, its brilliant white and delicate lace were blinding. A vail spilled down your back, a golden band shimmering on your left hand. 

You felt your heart speed as your eyes darted around the crowded room of blurred faces. They landed on your mother her smirk ever present as her face twitched into one of a pale demon. Your breaths were short and useless.

    “Y/n?” 

    You looked up at Regulus who now held your hands gingerly in his own, a soft look of concern graced his sharp-cut features. You felt dizzy, the heels you wore digging into the back of your feet. The thin lace of your dress did nothing to hide the tattoo stabbed into the skin of your forearm. A snake pulling from a skull in a gruesome scene. You opened your mouth to scream.

    You sat up suddenly in your bed. The sheets you were tangled in felt slick with sweat, a shiver rippling your body. Your memory began to do flips as the strange dream that had woken you evaded the present thoughts of your mind. You stared at the dull grey light which blanketed your dorm, the quiet sound of Bellatrix’s snores giving you no comfort. It felt wrong, sleeping so close to your enemies. That’s what they were now right? Enemies. Or maybe the conversation you had had with the curious man in half-moon spectacles had been some twisted, far away dream as well. You couldn’t quite think straight, your stomach churned with the familiar feeling dread. 

    You leaned for your wand which stood on the small table next to your bed, you flicked it with a whisper, and light filled the small curtains which surrounded you. Sliding them aside you stepped from beneath your blanket, warm feet cooling on the stone floor. You pulled on a sweatshirt and padded quietly towards the door. Pushing it open carefully you thanked the hinges for their silence and began down the steps. 

    You had always preferred the castle at night, the sliver moonlight which filtered through the windows, the soft whine of the wind, the snores of portraits. Not to mention the lack of prying eyes and the comfort of solidarity which you rarely felt. It was all calming, therapeutic. 

    Your original destination had been the astronomy tower but when you heard a pair of footsteps in your path you turned quickly and instead headed for the small courtyard. You made it without incident, the sound of the falling water paired with the chirp of crickets was lulling. 

    You slide to the ground, back resting on the cool concrete of the fountain, and leaned your head upward. The moon was nearing full, stars bright and blinking. The night was slowly fading, you still weren’t sure what time it was but your guess was close to three. 

    Dumbledore’s words repeated in your head, the image of a young Sirius sobbing in front of you spilling in your vision as you slipped from reality. You felt your eyes sting with unshed tears before you managed to blink them away. 

    “Y/n?”

    Your head snapped forwards, eyes opening as you instinctively raised your wand. You peered over its point to see James Potter. His hair was its usual curly mess, glasses crooked on his nose, his dark eyes peering down at you in confusion.

    You stood too quickly, wand lowered to your side, “What are you doing out of bed?” 

    He grinned, “I was going to ask you the same.”

    You folded your arms in front of you, “Well I asked first.”

    “Well, I’m head boy so I win.” He smirked pointing to the small pin which shimmered on his robes. 

    You scoffed, “There’s nothing to win.” turning away from the boy you prepared to leave.

    He tsked his tongue taking a few hurried steps until he stood in front of you, “Seriously y/n, you didn’t think you were getting away this easy did you?”  

    “I was kind of hoping I would.” you scowled, “But I supposed you are wearing the snitch badge.” 

    “It’s not a snitch badge.” James defended, your eyes rolled. He paused sighing, “Look y/n, just tell me what you were doing. I’m not going to sell you out to anyone.”

    You glanced up at him in consideration, “You first, you’re not doing any narc duties this late so you’re out here for a reason too.” 

    “Stubborn.” He mumbled but complied, “Fine, I was setting up a prank.” 

    “Liar.” You stated plainly, “I’m not stupid Potter.” 

    He furrowed his brows, “Why would I lie?” 

    You shrugged, “I don’t know, you tell me.” 

    “I’m not lying.” He argued, pushing his glasses up his nose.

    You narrowed your eyes at him scanning his appearance, “Fine.” you said finally and James released a breath.

    “So why are you out?” He asked hurriedly.

    You hummed, “No reason really. I just can’t think in my dorm.” 

    James frowned, “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” 

    “More fun to watch you struggle,” you explained with a grin, “I don’t know why you care in the first place.” 

    “Because we’re friends.” 

    You clicked your tongue, “Are we?” 

    He laughed lightly, “You’re such an asshole sometimes.” 

    “That’s rude.” You respond, “Look I’m exhausted, I’m heading back.” 

    “I’ll walk with you,” James stated. You rolled your eyes again. 

    You both headed back through the corridors and down towards your common room in silence, neither of you were too fond of getting caught, the idea of detention wasn’t all that appealing. 

    “So what were you thinking about?” James asked as you reached the safety of the dungeons.

    “What?”

    “You said you went to the courtyard to think,” He explained, “What about?

    “None of your business,” you answered quickly, happy to see your escape approaching.

    James pushed his glasses up his nose, he didn’t like the feeling of paranoia you seemed to adopt. It was unsettling. He wondered if Dumbledore had asked you about joining the Order but didn’t dare bring it up. 

    “Well, uh thanks for walking me.” You spoke turning to face him.

    James smiled, “It’s no problem.” 

    You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave before whispering a password and disappearing behind the slowly opening wall. 

    Something was definitely up with you. 

    You sighed heavily, your eyelids seemed to weigh pounds as you started across the room. The sudden click of a light turning on caused your heart to jump. 

    “Merlin, Nina.” You gasped, hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

    She glared at you, her arms crossed in front of her, “Where were you?” 

    “Nowhere,” You replied. “Just out.”

    “Who were you talking to?” She continuted. 

    “No one, what’s up with the interrogation?” 

    She ignored you, “You were with Sirius weren’t you? Really y/n? Right after he broke Pearl’s heart?” 

    “I wasn’t with Sirius.” You deadpanned, “And it wouldn’t matter if I was.” 

    “Who were you with then?” She pressed standing from her seat, her sea-green eyes boring into you in ways which made you shiver. 

    “I happened to run into James, it was no big deal.” 

    Her eyes narrowed, “Why did he walk you back?” 

    “How am I supposed to know?” You huffed. 

    She paused, tucking her shimmering black hair neatly behind her ears, “You’re lucky I don’t tell Pearl about you sneaking out again. She would be ticked off.” 

    “Whatever.” You mumbled heading back towards your dorm, Nina behind you, her hands tucking into her silk robe which cost more than it should have. 

    “Why even are you friends with Black?” She asked as you reached the top of the stairs, “He’s an asshole.” 

    “We’ve known each other forever.” You reasoned. 

    Nina scoffed, “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a dick.” 

    You shrugged heading towards your bed, “Night Nina.” You sighed as you tugged your blanket over your shoulder. Images of tattoos and white dress suddenly conquered your mind. For some reason, Pearl’s heartbreak was the last thing on your mind. 

    The next morning was fuzzy around the edges, like some sort of haze. You felt half dead and half paranoid as if the entire school had somehow overheard the conversation you and Dumbledore had had the night before. 

    Nina didn’t speak to you about your conversation a few hours ago as you readied yourself. She had always been like that, blunt and stern. If she had wanted more information on where you had been she would have gotten it. You supposed being a muggleborn Slytherin made her that way. The only thing that kept her from being completely dehumanized by many of the Slytherins was her money. Despite being muggleborn you were pretty sure she was richer than anyone in the house which meant she could almost blend in with the spoiled rich kids you had grown up with. 

    Nina lead you towards the hall for breakfast rambling about some test she had in History of Magic and how you should really be studying more. 

    “Y/n! Nokomis!” A familiar voice called over the murmur of the crowded hallway. 

    You whipped around to greet none other than Sirius Black. 

    Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, “What do you want Black?” 

    “I need to borrow y/n for a moment.” He grinned but there was a sense of forgery to it.

    “I’ll see you in a minute.” You whispered to the olive-skinned girl before starting towards Sirius whos smile had dropped. 

    “Whats up Siri?” You asked falling into step with your friend before suddenly being shoved sideways. You stumbled into a closet, hand pressing into a broom handle as your foot struck a small bucket on the ground. The door was shut and you were thrown into darkness

    “Godric Sirius, what the hell is going on?” You hissed reaching out to try and find him but missing and tripping forward. 

Sirius caught you in his chest your momentum sending him backward, colliding with the door. He didn’t seem to care as he snatched your hands into his own.

“You said yes last night right?” His voice sounded desperate.

You stiffened, swallowing thickly, “Yeah.” 

In seconds he had you wrapped in his arms, your face pressed into the fabric of his dress shirt as he buried his head into your neck. 

Shock froze you in your place for a moment before you melted into his embrace, the scent of mint and smoke filling you. Your worries seemed to wash away as Sirius held you, his quickened heartbeat loud in your ears, his breath hot on your neck. You felt the color rise to your cheeks and you only fisted his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you away from that shit,” he mumbled into your ear.

And suddenly it was all back, the dread, the anger, the fear. You were crying before you even knew it. Thick tears spilling from your eyes as you muffled sobs into the boy’s chest. 

“Shit y/n, what’s wrong?” Sirius asked pulling back and prying you away from him so he could look you in the eye, now adjusted to the dim lighting. 

You only cried harder raising your hands to your face to hide yourself. 

Sirius was stunned, he couldn’t remember the last time you had cried in front of him, it must have been years ago. A slight panic filled him, “I’m so sorry. Did I say something? I didn’t-”

“It’s not you.” You whimpered, “I’m so scared Siri, I’m just so fucking scared.” 

Sirius felt his face drop, eyes softening before he pulled you back into him, a hand threading through your hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he mumbled, “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” 

   

    You didn’t get a chance to see Nina or the others before classes. Instead, you headed for Arithmancy, a class you had grown to hate more than you should have. It didn’t help that Professor Vector hated your guts. She ignored your questions and always called on you for answers despite the fact that your hand was never raised. There was only one saving grace in the dreadful class and that was Remus Lupin. 

    You had been placed next to the boy by your professor on the first day of your seventh year and since then he had become a lifeline. On your way to the classroom you hated so much you did everything you could to not look like you had been sobbing in a broom closet moments before, you didn’t do much good. 

    You walked into the class head down wishing you had a hood to hide under. Remus was already in his seat a book covering most of his face. When you fell into your own place next to him releasing a soft sigh the book was dropped onto the table in front of him. 

    “Are you okay?” He asked. It had been barely fifteen seconds since you entered the classroom. 

    You gave him a weak smile, “I’m fine.” 

    Remus frowned, “Here.” his wand was suddenly out and pointed towards you. The boy didn’t miss the slight flinch that you gave but said nothing to it, “Tergeo.” He mumbled and the smeared trails of mascara were wiped away, your face left as a clean slate. 

    Remus felt his eyes flirt down towards your lips for only a moment before he pulled away, knowing he had stared just a second too long. “Sorry.” 

    You laughed lightly, “Why are you apologizing?” 

    His ears went red, he glanced down at his hands feeling a bit stupid.

    You shook your head smiling. Your hand ran through your hair, and you groaned slightly, “My hair is so gross right now.” You muttered under your breath attempting to brush through the tangles with your fingers. 

    “Here.”

    You moved your gaze back to your desk partner who now had his hand out, offering the navy beanie which had been placed on his head moments ago. 

    “Really?” You asked eyes wide as Remus shoved the hat into your arms, his own eyes looking at anything but you.

    “Just take it.” He replied thrusting his face back into his book hoping you wouldn’t catch the heat which had now spread to his cheeks. 

    You pulled the beanie on top of your head tapping the werewolf on the shoulder, “Thanks Re.”

    Remus gulped, sure you could see the blush that now filled his face as you smiled warmly at him, his own hat perched on your head, “Of course.” He managed to croak. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac @willowyreads @approved-by-dentists @itslilithsstuff @captainshazamerica @findzelda

Masterlist

One more thing: I have some major plot points figured out but I suck at story boarding so if there is something you want to see in this fic or ideas for plot, I will totally consider them

[profitvideo-2021]

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[cakesunflower]

No Need Convincing Me [Tattoo Artist!Calum AU] Part 3

Summary: Elodie Banks hadn’t expected to get so caught up in her best friend’s tattoo artist. But all it took was one meeting with Calum Hood for Elodie to feel herself drawing towards him and the ink on his skin. Maybe once she was rid of a miserable relationship and the insecurities that came with it, she’d allow herself to realize that Calum was just as wrapped up in her.

All Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Part 3

The bedroom door swung open, the music playing throughout the apartment no longer muffled as Elodie turned around instantly, eyes landing on Calum standing in the doorway. “Oh, shit—sorry,” he apologized with a quick chuckle, one hand still on the doorknob while the other scratched at the back of his head. Elodie blinked at him, at the boyish grin on his face and the flush in his cheeks. He was drunk, or tipsy, maybe. “Thought this was the bathroom.”

“It’s okay,” Elodie assured him with a smile of her own. The nervous flutter returned in the pit of her stomach, but the smile that tilted her lips was one she couldn’t control. Calum came into view and so did her smile. Gesturing towards the ensuite, Elodie told him, “You could use this one.”

Calum nodded, shutting the door behind him as his dark eyes took in the sight of Elodie as the music blaring throughout Dominique’s home was just slightly muffled once more. She felt a familiar flush overtake her body as Calum stepped into the room some more, the heat of his gaze freezing Elodie in place as he took her in. Well, her and her costume; she and Dominique decided to dress up as Cher and Dionne from Clueless, complete with a form fitting white crop top under a black and yellow plaid blazer with a matching mini skirt, knee high socks and heels—the last two a combination only reserved for Halloween.

And with him openly observing her costume, Elodie did the same to him; she knew, thanks to Dominique, that he and Ashton were dressed up in costumes from Reservoir Dogs, their looks complete with white button downs splattered with fake blood, dress pants with matching suits and sunglasses. She’d only been around Calum a couple of times, and even though his clothes had fake blood on them, Elodie still found herself admiring the sight of him in dressy clothes. He looked good, which wasn’t a surprise.

What came as a surprise, though, was the fact that Elodie found herself liking it more when Calum wore his chains and leather jacket; both looks suited him, truthfully, but for some reason the sight of Calum in a leather jacket was burned into Elodie’s brain. And she didn’t mind it a bit.

She wasn’t entirely sure how Calum got so close to her, the distance between them minimal as he stopped a foot or so away from her. His body towered over hers, more so than Nathan’s did, and yet. . . There was nothing suffocating about this. Elodie’s stomach flipped at the way Calum’s broad frame dominated hers, but there was no real intimidation. The sound of her heart beating in her ears was louder than the music. Calum didn’t make her feel small.

Elodie looked up at him through her lashes, breath hitching when she noted the pink in his cheeks. It wasn’t a sight she’d seen before, not that she’d been around Calum enough times, but it was adorable. His lips curled, and Elodie figured it was a lot easier for him to smile when he was a bit inebriated. Voice low, yet always carrying that rasp, Calum murmured, “You look pretty.” And he meant it.

How was it so easy for him to compliment her? It should be alarming, how effortlessly Calum ignites a fire in Elodie’s face and intensifies the butterflies in her stomach she hadn’t felt in a long time. It should raise red flags that he could make her breath hitch in her throat with just a few simple words and a look casted by those dark brown eyes. But it wasn’t any of that. It felt good.

Her lips curled, her smile shy and sweet and honest, and instead of saying thank you, she wanted to return the compliment despite the nervous twisting of her stomach. “You look—”

“Badass?” Calum supplied, looking down at her as he made his eyebrows jump twice, quickly, and it was like he sensed how she was feeling and decided to make it easier, make it light with a joke and a smirk that was more charming than condescending. And, God, the slight lisp kind of flustered Elodie even more.

“I was gonna say handsome,” she told him, her voice as soft and genuine as her smile, the heat in her cheeks returning as quickly as the confidence that allowed her to return the compliment left. But Calum’s eyes glimmered at her words, his smirk softening into a smile of his own, and Elodie’s heart was in her throat as the familiar scent of his cologne began overwhelming her. Throat working, she gestured with a small laugh, “Didn’t you have to use the bathroom?”

Calum blinked, as if just remembering why he entered the room in the first place. His eyes darted towards the other door as he sounded an absent, “Right.” Looking back at her, he winked, quick and flirty and heart stopping, as he said, “Be right back,” before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Elodie let out a slow breath as she heard the lock click, head tilting back to look up at the ceiling. Was she flirting with him? Did that count as flirting? Fucking hell, Elodie wasn’t even sure what constituted as flirting anymore. Nathan didn’t even flirt with her.

Her eyes clenched shut at the reminder of her boyfriend. Whatever she just engaged in with Calum, whether it was flirting or not, should not have felt as easy and good as it did. Not when that few minutes of conversation was far better than just being in her own boyfriend’s presence.

And it was as if the universe wasn’t on her side, because the bedroom door opened, and in walked Nathan, dressed as. . . Nothing. Because God forbid he took part in something as childish as Halloween—or Dominique’s birthday. So he had arrived in one of his many custom tailored suits, looking like he did every other day of his life. Elodie didn’t get butterflies at the sight of him. She froze up—but not in the kind of way she did with Calum. Not in the excited way.

“What’re you doing in the guest room?” Nathan questioned as he walked in, not entirely shutting the door as the sound of the music and the party filtered in.

“It’s not the guest room,” Elodie found herself saying before she could stop. And she didn’t want to stop. So she smiled, allowing herself to be excited and thrilled and everything else that she was since she arrived at Dominique’s penthouse so they could get ready for the party. The birthday girl had decided she wanted to have fun at her own house, so she and her hired security could be more in charge of who arrived. Gesturing to the room with her hands, Elodie told Nathan with an exhilarated grin, “It’s my room. I’m moving in with Dom.”

He didn’t smile or share in Elodie’s excitement but, then again, she hadn’t entirely expected him to. Instead, Nathan just raised his eyebrows, a scoff of a laugh escaping him as he asked, “You’re what?”

She didn’t want him to step on her happiness, so she kept the smile on her face, even if it became a bit painful to keep. “I’m moving in with her,” Elodie repeated patiently. “She surprised me with the idea and my parents think it’s great, too. I’m gonna start packing my things up soon.”

Nathan’s eyebrows drew together, his disdain with the idea clear on his face as he began walking towards her. It was terrible, how almost everything Elodie said or decided was something Nathan couldn’t bring it in himself to feel happy about for her. What kind of boyfriend was he? What kind of relationship had Elodie been subjecting herself to? “If you wanna move out of your house, move in with me, El. It’s more practical to live with your boyfriend at this age than your best friend.”

If Elodie was someone else, she would’ve laughed in Nathan’s face at his ridiculous words. Last time she checked, there was no age limit in living with your best friend. What’s more, her and Nathan had been together for, what, six months? And most of them were miserable because Elodie allowed herself to suffer being with someone who wasn’t good to her because the image they created was good enough. Living with him sounded like the worst idea she had ever heard—the thought of it was enough to make her nauseous.

“I’m not going to move in with you, Nathan,” Elodie told him calmly, hands at her back as she nervously played with the material of her skirt. “It’s not practical.”

She could see the anger quickly brewing in the green of his eyes. He never hesitated in getting pissed off at her. She wished she was numb to his piercing scowl, but it never failed to anxiously jump her heart. Nathan’s voice was harsh as he demanded, “Why the hell not?”

He was storming towards her as he spoke, encroaching on her personal space that Elodie decided, right then and there, that she didn’t ever want him near again. So as he approached her, Elodie found herself taking a few steps back, the action only serving to piss Nathan off even more. If he was a decent boyfriend, one would think the sight of his girlfriend backing away from him—out of fear—was an alarming sight on its own. But it didn’t even seem to register as concerning to Nathan. No, it only served to aggravate him more. How twisted.

Maybe it was the notion of Nathan never seeming to be on board with any idea that allowed for Elodie to have her own independence, or the horrific reminder that getting utterly pissed off at her for no solid or logical reason seemed to be his favorite pastime, but whatever it was, it finally had Elodie uttering the words she had stupidly been fighting herself from saying, words that were only a hint at what Dominique had probably been wanting to hear her to actually say for a long time.

“Because I can’t live with you if you’re not my boyfriend,” Elodie stated, the words rushing out of her quickly and without thought, like she wanted to get them out in the open as fast as possible and hope they didn’t leave a bitter taste in her mouth. They didn’t.

Her heart was thundering as she looked at Nathan, who had stopped just a foot in front of her, looking down at her with a startled, angered and glaring expression as her words registered. Her heart was too loud in her ears, filling the silence followed by her words despite the lively party going on. God. Elodie should be out there celebrating her best friend’s birthday. Though, part of her figured Dominique wouldn’t mind if she’d heard what Elodie had just said.

Nathan’s eyes were narrowed suddenly, challenging and mocking at the same time. “Are you breaking up with me?” He let out a laugh, the sound empty and humorless and twisting Elodie’s stomach unpleasantly. She looked up at him, her own eyes widened at what she had said, though not at all regretful. But she watched him warily, worriedly, not entirely sure where this was going. Because normally Elodie would just submit, she would do or say whatever she needed to in order to appease Nathan, but that was out of the window. Now, she was doing and saying as she wanted to, and there was no telling how this was going to go. The fear she felt prickling her skin was yet another sign that she had stuck around for far longer than she should’ve.

Instead of letting Elodie answer his probably rhetoric question, the empty smile that had upturned Nathan’s lips to release his humorless laugh dropped, the fire in his eyes a full on blazon as his jaw tightened. “You can’t fucking end this, Elodie.”

Somehow, through the dryness of her throat and the trembling of her fingers, Elodie managed to return, “You can’t keep around someone who doesn’t want to be with you, Nathan.” She gave a shake of her head, unable to let the guilt from seeping into her tone and saddening her eyes as she added, “It was my fault for making you think I wanted to stay longer than I ever did.”

Her words, though riddled with guilt and sadness because that’s just the kind of person Elodie was, had been pushing enough to enrage Nathan all the more. Because next thing she knew, right once she had finished speaking, Nathan’s expression contorted into one of rage, eyes fierce and lips snarling, as his right hand lifted and Elodie’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach as his guttural voice raged, “You fucking bi—”

Elodie’s initial reaction wasn’t to shrink away and squeeze her eyes shut. Because this had never happened before. For all his faults in their mess of a relationship, Nathan had never raised a hand at Elodie, and so she hadn’t seen it coming. She’d frozen, lips parting to inhale a sharp breath out of utter startlement for what he was about to do, eyes widening in a sick combination of horror and confusion and terror because, shit, had she been naive enough to never expect this from him?

But what Nathan aimed to do, he didn’t get to. Because neither of them had heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, nor the quick footsteps to approach them just in time for Calum’s hand to catch Nathan’s in the air before it descended. Elodie found herself stumbling back a step, heart pounding against her check, hand pressing to her stomach as some kind of defense as she looked on with widened eyes. No tears, no tears, no tears. She didn’t want to cry. No matter how scared she felt in Nathan’s presence.

If Elodie thought Nathan’s rage towards her had been terrifying, it was nothing compared to the unabated fury etched on Calum’s face. He no longer looked like his flushed, maybe tipsy self from before; instead, his dark eyes were sharp and menacing, lips pressed together tightly yet twisted upwards in obvious outrage. His grip on Nathan’s arm was tight, strong, iron clad in the way Nathan’s arm shook in trying to break out from the grasp but being unable to do so.

Elodie was frozen where she stood, troubled head trying hard to catch up with what was happening, as Nathan turned his head slightly to meet Calum’s gaze. She watched the way Calum looked down at him, noted the muscle in his jaw jumping as he tried to control whatever anger was burning through his veins right now. “Were you really ’bout to do what it looked like?” Elodie’s throat worked at the sound of Calum’s voice. The deep timber she enjoyed the sound of was dark, heavy in the promise of violence as his focus remained solely on Nathan, who struggled to get out of Calum’s grip. He was a big guy, but Elodie didn’t know he was so strong to so easily keep Nathan in place. Calum licked his lips before letting out a quiet breath, chin tilting to bring his mouth closer to Nathan’s ear as he baited lowly, in a dangerously challenging tone , “Motherfucker, give me a reason to break your fucking arm right now.”

Nathan’s breathing quickened from his own anger, and Elodie wondered if there was a bit of panic mixing in on his end, as he jerked his shoulders to get away from Calum’s grip. But with one hand holding Nathan’s arm and the other, Elodie realized, holding Nathan’s other arm behind his back, Calum had an unforgiving grip on him. “Get your fucking hands off me!”

“So you can try and put yours on her again?” Calum scoffed, but it was controlled. Everything about him in this moment, Elodie noticed, was controlled. His expression was threatening to twitch into something far more savage than it was, his deep voice, though dark, trembled just a bit with the fury igniting his system. Calum was much better at controlling his temper than Nathan was. “Don’t think so. Let’s go.”

He was moving them, then, and Elodie watched with widened eyes as Calum forced Nathan around, hands still gripping him, as he pushed him out of the room. Nathan’s struggling grunts and curses were drowned by the music, and Elodie snapped herself out of her shocked trance as they disappeared around the corner, Calum’s broad frame easily overpowering Nathan’s, barely stumbling over her feet and following them out.

Elodie’s heart was drumming, quicker than the bass of the music playing through the penthouse, and she pushed her way past the people enjoying themselves as she looked over their heads to catch sight of the two guys. Her brown eyes darted around, unsure if she was breathing heavily from panic or surprise, as she finally caught sight of them towards the front door.

She stumbled out of the front door into the wide hallway just in time to see Calum let go of Nathan with a shove. She stood a few feet behind them, the door shutting behind them as her hand gripped the doorframe as she watched Nathan swiveled around, tugging to straighten out his suit jacket as his angrily wide eyes landed on Calum. He looked outrage, like he couldn’t believe Calum would put his hands on him, as he let out a sharp breath.

Nathan stormed over, eyes narrowed as he demanded, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” He pointed a finger at Calum warningly, a lock of his blonde hair falling across his forehead, as his voice remained tight. “You don’t put your fucking hands on me.”

Elodie feared that the veins in Nathan’s forehead and neck were about to burst, face red, and it was almost alarming how kept together Calum looked compared to him, despite the look of wrath he’d been wearing. Of course, she couldn’t really see his face; just the tightness of his jaw, his sharp gaze focused on Nathan and nothing else. He stood tall, chin jutted and hands curled into fists at his side. He was like a barrier between her and Nathan, and Elodie appreciated it more than she could say.

“Leave,” Calum said, his tone hard with no room for arguments.

Nathan exhaled sharply, his gaze moving past Calum to look at Elodie, and she felt her body tensing at the anger still present in his eyes. He didn’t even try to wash it over, instead looked at her with the same fierce look that showed the rage that didn’t diminish. Nathan’s breathing was unsteady, his aggravation keeping him from taking any stable breaths. “Elodie, let’s just talk—” he stared as he took he tried to take a few steps towards her.

Calum didn’t allow him to finish, side stepping to press a hand against Nathan’s chest and pushing him back. “Are you serious right now?” Calum scoffed, an incredulous chuckle escaping him as he shook his head at Nathan. He didn’t waver under the glare shot his way. “Fuck out of here.”

Elodie kept her lips pressed together, throat working as she watched the scene in front of her. God, all she wanted to do was head back inside and drink and celebrate with Dominique. This had escalated more than she expected. Her heart still hadn’t calmed down after Nathan raised his hand at her—he was about to hit her, for God’s sake. She thought many things of Nathan, but someone capable of doing that had never been one of them. Not until now. And to think she was just saying the absolute worst thing to him away from getting him to this point had her stomach twisting uncomfortably, terrifyingly. How could it have gotten so bad?

She watched, with scared eyes, as Nathan shot them both one last outraged look before letting out a scoff and began walking backwards down the hall to where the elevators were. His eyes met Elodie’s as he jammed the button, gaze sharp as he told her from where he stood, “You’re making a mistake.”

Elodie took a breath, shaky and catching in her throat, as she blinked quickly to rid of the tears that had gathered. Last time. If she was going to cry because of Nathan again, this would be the last time it would happen. Because she was done; she’d managed to grow some kind of spine and end things with him, and even though she ultimately needed Calum’s help, she still did it. She put an end to an unhappy chapter of her life. Nathan wasn’t going to make her cry anymore.

So she swallowed the lump in her throat, grip on the door frame tight as she responded as steadily as she could, “I don’t think I am.”

His expression hardened. As expected. And with a snarling curl of his lips and scowl that sent a shiver down Elodie’s spine, Nathan was gone.

And she could breathe.

“I’m sorry.”

Elodie’s gaze lifted, widened and glassy eyes landed on the only other person in the hallway. She tried to focus past the sound of her drumming heart and muffled music from inside, blinking as her eyebrows drew together in a gentle frown. “What?” she asked in confusion. “What’re you sorry for?”

“Uh,” Calum sounded, now facing her as he reached up to rub the back of his head. When Elodie got a look at him, she noted the expression on his face, one that was ridden with guilt as he took a few steps towards her. Coming to a stop in front of Elodie, Calum’s dark eyes met hers, and she was almost shocked at how there was little to no trace of the anger she had seen. Or, maybe, it was there, laying under the concerned softness of his gaze, but because it wasn’t meant for her he didn’t show it. Was it strange that Elodie found that sweet? Calum’s throat worked as he let out a breath. “I’m sorry that you had to see me. . . Like that. And I’m sorry that he thought that kind of behavior would ever be okay.”

Elodie couldn’t help it—she gaped at him. Her lips parted, widened eyes staring at him as if he had two heads, when in actuality, he’d only uttered words any decent human being would. And it was almost sad, how much Calum’s apology meant to Elodie, because Nathan had never thought to utter the words I’m sorry after the things he’d say. But here was Calum, apologizing for something he didn’t have to feel guilty about.

“Y-You don’t have to apologize,” Elodie told him, not caring too much about how she stumbled over her words a bit. The shock was only beginning to wear off. Elodie blinked quickly, clearing her throat as her cheeks pinkened and she added gratefully, “Thank you for jumping in and defending me.”

“’Course,” Calum responded, his voice softer than she thought was capable, the word slipping from his lips so easily as if he had never been second guessed his actions. His eyebrows then knitted together, some edge creeping back into his voice as he said, “He had no right to even try.”  With a clench of his jaw and his dark eyes meeting hers, he asked slowly, “Has he done that before?”

The way he asked reluctantly had Elodie realizing that Calum was dreading her possible answer. Like if she said yes, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn to the elevator and find Nathan to finish what he’d started. And while violence wasn’t something Elodie promoted, the mere idea of Calum caring about the situation to the point where he’d consider doing something like that had her stomach twisting. But not in a bad way.

“No,” she answered truthfully, rolling her lips into her mouth as her gaze dropped. Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt her own guilt pool in the pit of her stomach. She knew it wasn’t her fault, knew that what had just happened was because of Nathan’s own flaws; but being with someone like him long enough and having to endure him drop remarks that somehow everything seemed to be her fault made it difficult to not blame herself. She had acted and he reacted, terrifyingly so, and it was she who had pushed him over the edge, wasn’t it?

“Hey, stop that.” Elodie blinked, gaze lifting to look at Calum, taking a gentle breath to keep the stinging in her eyes at bay. Don’t cry. It’s over. Calum’s frown went from a glare at the thought of Nathan to a softer, concerned one, just barely a hint of sternness present. He stood in front of her, his figure tall yet a comforting presence, and Calum ducked his head slightly to keep their gazes locked. Elodie just barely glanced at a tattoo on his collarbone peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. “It’s important that you know that none of this was your fault, alright? He’s the only one to blame.”

He was right. Elodie knew he was, but Nathan had such an imprint on her that she still found herself parting her lips to argue, “But—”

“No buts, Elodie.” The words died in her throat as her name slipped from his mouth, pressing her lips together when his hands gripped her shoulders. Just as he did so, Calum’s gaze dropped to his hands, like he was suddenly aware of him touching her without warning, and Elodie felt her heart jump at the mild panic that seeped into his dark eyes. But she remained still, silently letting him know that it was okay, that his touch was burning her and she welcomed it. Calum’s throat worked, eyes meeting hers once more, looking at her like he wanted her to truly understand what he was saying. “You weren’t the cause of any of this. A grown man should know how to act. I barely know the guy and already saw him cross so many lines. You did the right thing.”

Elodie knew Calum’s words were meant to be comforting to her, to let her know that the choice she made tonight was valid. But it also served to remind her that the choices she’d made to get to this point had been so wrong. To let it get this far. . . What had she been thinking? Her skin was hot—whether it was from shame or guilt or Calum’s proximity, she didn’t know. But Elodie’s throat worked as she blinked her gaze away, sniffling ever so slightly as she looked at the wall and found herself muttering, “You probably think I was stupid to be with him in the first place.”

“No. I think you had your reasons.” Elodie’s gaze shifted back to Calum, at the understanding that softened his features as he offered a slight shrug. “You don’t have to tell ’em to me. And it might not mean much, but—” His lips quirked up ever so slightly, honest and real as he gave her shoulders a squeeze. “—I think you’re better off without him.”

Elodie’s throat tightened, brown eyes on his, and  in a moment of feeling forward, she reached a hand up and squeezed Calum’s wrist. She felt the cool metal of his chain bracelet under her touch, sending a shiver down her spine despite the warmth of his skin. When Calum raised his eyebrows, not at her touch but as a way of silently asking if she understood what he was telling her, Elodie found herself smiling. And finally let the guilt slip away as she agreed, “I think so, too.”

Satisfied by her answer, Calum’s lips quirked into a smirk before dropping his hands from her shoulders, and Elodie tried not to be disappointed by the lack of his touch as Calum ticked his head to the door. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

*****

When Elodie stepped into H & H Tattoo and Piercings, she was greeted by Michael exclaiming her name in happy surprise over the sound of the unfamiliar song playing through the shop, leaning away from the computer at the reception desk and pushing himself into the back of his chair hands thrown up. “Where’d you come from?” he asked with a laugh as they pulled away from a hug shared over the counter.

“I ran into her at the Starbucks down the block,” Sierra said as she walked around the desk, waving Michael away, who got up with a sigh as she returned to her rightful chair. “Asked her to come by and hang because I’m so bored.”

Elodie smiled as Michael snorted, raising his eyebrows at Sierra. “So you basically kidnapped her from the rest of her day to bring her here?”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Elodie assured with a shake of her head and a gentle smile, one hand still holding her frappe cup. “I just got out of class and had nothing else to do.”

And it was true. After class, she’d gotten into the car and asked her driver to take her to Starbucks because she needed it even after sitting through three classes. Running into Sierra had been out of the blue, and when she was invited to come hang out at the tattoo shop, Elodie would be lying if she said her heart hadn’t jumped up to her throat at the thought of seeing Calum. It was the first thing that popped into Elodie’s head as soon as she heard Sierra’s offer, an excited flutter in her stomach to see him again.

Ever since Dominique’s party four days ago, Elodie hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Calum. There were moments during the past few days that thoughts of Nathan would creep into her mind without her content, where she’d feel her heart racing as she remembered what he almost did to her after she finally stood up for herself. And then she’d think of Calum, and she’d relax. She found herself being able to breathe again—not just because of Calum, but because she was no longer tied to Nathan. She did that.

“Ready to get that nose piercing?”

The sound of his voice had Elodie’s breath hitching and she turned around in time to see Calum strolling over, tall and broad shouldered in black track pants and a red tee that hugged him snugly. She noted the bit of scruff that had become more prominent around his mouth and on his chin, and not that her opinion mattered, but she liked it. Nathan was always clean shaven, and this time around, Elodie didn’t feel much guilt for thinking how boring he was. Was that stupid? To think someone was boring because they didn’t like growing facial hair?

Elodie decided that no, it wasn’t. Because everything about Nathan had been clean shaven. Except his uncontrollable anger. She quickly pushed thoughts of him out of her head, unwanted and unneeded, as she focused on Calum. The tattoos on his arm were on full display, the black ink intricate against his brown skin, and Elodie’s curiosity once again came in full swing. She hadn’t ever seen all of his tattoos before; words and pictures alike decorating him. Elodie wanted to know what they all meant.

The smile on her face came easily as response to Calum’s welcoming smirk as he reached her, arm going around her shoulders to pull her in a hug that was just as comforting as the cologne that washed over her, fresh and woodsy as it took over the faint scent of antiseptic and something pleasant she couldn’t put her finger on. Elodie didn’t want to pull away from Calum’s hug, but she felt her heart jump when she noted that Calum didn’t move away from her.

“That hadn’t been on the agenda today,” she told him truthfully, one hand gripping her Starbucks cup while the fingers of the other played with the green straw.

Michael grinned. “Nothing like a spontaneous piercing,” he told her, finger reaching up to flick the silver cross dangling from his ear.

Elodie laughed with a raise of her eyebrows before rolling her lips into her mouth. Her initial thought was that she could wait to get a piercing, but as she let the thought play around in her head, Elodie couldn’t help but wonder, why wait? She was here now, and wanting to get her nose pierced was something she wanted to do for a long time. She always liked the way they looked on other people and there really wasn’t anything stopping her from getting it done.

She wasn’t one for spontaneous actions. Breaking up with Nathan was the biggest unexpected thing she’d done. Why stop now?

“Okay.” The word slipped past her lips before she truly comprehended it, but she didn’t regret it. She saw the grin that quirked at Michael’s lips, mirroring it a bit nervously before her gaze slid over to Calum, who was looking down at her with raised, almost impressed eyebrows. The smirk remained. “Can I get it today?”

It wasn’t long until Elodie was sitting in the same chair Dominique had been sitting in, after signing the papers Sierra had given her before Calum led her to one of the curtain separated rooms. And as she sat, her bag on one of the spare stools as she lightly drummed her fingers on her jeans clad thighs, her eyes took in Calum and his actions. He was getting everything ready, and as the song on the shop’s playlist changed to one she recognized by The Weeknd, Calum asked with his back still to her, “You nervous?”

Her eyes were on his back, on the broad expanse of his shoulders, and Elodie felt the need to touch the soft material of his red shirt again. She licked her lips as she asked, “Should I be?”

Calum turned around, gloves on his hands as he approached her, an easy and boyish smirk on his face that had her heart jolting within her chest. Elodie couldn’t help but admire how in his element he looked as he prepared to pierce her nose, tall and confident and cool. “No,” he told her truthfully, settling on the stool and being somewhat at eye level with her. Calum’s smile turned warm, friendly, and the way it put her at ease almost instantly wasn’t lost on Elodie as he promised in his usual rasp, “You’re in good hands.”

Elodie’s throat worked. She had no doubt about that.

Honestly, the whole process passed a bit too soon. But Elodie knew it was because she was more focused on Calum than what he was doing. Her heart had been in her throat as he sterilized the area, the closeness making her skin flush like a middle schooler. It was almost embarrassing. When he’d marked her nose and had her check in the mirror to approve of where the piercing would go, Elodie found herself still hyper aware of Calum’s proximity. She tried to pay attention to the sound of The Weeknd’s voice playing through the shop, on the vague sounds of Michael and Sierra chatting over in the main area. Her attention couldn’t even focus on how she stood out in the shop; how her light jeans and pastel yellow top were a splash of color against the black and reds of the parlor, that everything about her didn’t necessarily belong in Calum’s shop.

They were so different. Elodie wondered if Calum noticed, too.

No, of course not. Why would he spend time thinking about her?

“Alright, you ready?” He’s to her right, and his voice was low and gentle, like he didn’t want to startle her. Calum spoke to her in the opposite way of which he looked; all tall and set features and dark eyes but a voice that’s friendly and soft and sends butterflies erupting in her stomach each time. Elodie knew that was dangerous.

She wanted to look at him, but she kept her head straight, focused on his presence and voice and the faint scent of his cologne. Elodie twisted her fingers on her lap, keeping herself from clicking her nails as she hummed an affirmative, “Yeah.”

Making it a point not to look at the instruments he was going to use, Elodie slid her gaze to the posters on the wall to her left, but felt her eyes automatically fluttering closed when she felt the cool metal on her nose, biting the inside of her cheek as she felt the brief pinch of the needle piercing her. She felt her eye water, something Calum had told her would happen, but she barely paid attention to it when Calum, as quickly as he’d started, announced, “All done.”

Her eyes opened, eyebrows rising as she found herself asking in surprise, “That’s it?”

Next to her, Calum chuckled and Elodie told herself she was imagining the fondness in the sound as he handed her a tissue. “Yup,” he smiled, watching as she dabbed at the tear that had escaped her eye, the chain of his necklace glinting under the bright lights. Smile turning into a lazy smirk, he praised jokingly, “You were a real trooper.”

Elodie scoffed out a laugh, cheeks warm, as Calum handed her the mirror. She could feel his eyes on her as she turned her head to the left a bit to look at the piercing. Her lips quirked up at the sight of the silver stud in her slightly pinkened nose, glimmering prettily, and she instantly adored how it looked. “I love it,” she said happily, turning her head to look at Calum, who’d been watching her. His dark eyes were warm as he sat relaxed on the stool, gloves off. “Thank you.”

He mirrored her smile, shrugging modestly, before jutting his chin at her. “Told you it suited you.”

Far beyond her control, Calum could already effortlessly ignite a blush in Elodie’s cheeks, so when he so easily complimented her, Elodie damn near felt like she was on fire. Moving her legs so she was now sitting sideways on the chair, feet touching the ground, Elodie gripped the edge of the leather chair as she asked him earnestly, “How much do I owe you?”

Calum rolled his eyes, pushing back the stool as he licked the inside of his lower lip before his tongue poked at his cheek and stood up, body easily towering over Elodie’s seated figure as she tilted her head back a bit to look up at him. “You don’t,” he told her with a raise of his eyebrows, a silent reminder of when he told her it was on him. “On the house, remember?”

Elodie let out a breath. She appreciated the offer, thought it was so sweet of him to give her her first piercing for free, but Elodie had never been one to comfortably accept free things. Which was hilarious because this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened; the status of her family made for benefits such as this, but Elodie didn’t want to reap Calum of the same conveniences. Even if he was being friendly. And maybe sweeter than she deserved.

“Are you su—”

“Elodie,” Calum cut her off, a breathy chuckle escaping him as he stood in front of her. Then Calum shifted, taking a step away from her to allow himself to bend forward, his hands on the chair right next to hers and lowering his head enough to be at eye level with her. His chain necklace dangled a bit at his new position, and Elodie’s heart thrummed in her throat at their proximity because he was so close. And in that moment, she allowed herself to get lost in him for as much as she could before the distance came between them once more.

The brown of his eyes was a bit lighter than Elodie thought, a warmer brown that made them all the more inviting, framed by long eyelashes. His gaze was honest and Elodie felt the air rush out of her lungs because Calum wasn’t just watching her—he was looking at her, making sure she could see the honesty in his eyes that he was offering. Elodie didn’t think anyone looked at her the way Calum did.

“It’s on me,” Calum said, pulling her out of reverie of admiring him. He tilted his head then, a smile pulling on his soft looking lips. Did they feel as they looked? “Let me do somethin’ nice for you, okay?”

Elodie couldn’t help the way she sank her teeth into her lower lip, skin warming when Calum’s gaze dropped ever so slightly to note the minor movement of her mouth. She didn’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw, and Elodie wasn’t going to lie to herself—the urge to close the gap between them was overwhelming. But she stayed put, releasing her lip to offer a pretty smile as she said, in more of a whisper than anything else, “You’re sweet.”

Calum let out a breath through his nose, lips quirking as told her, “Haven’t been told that one before.”

Her hands itched to make the subtle movements so they were touching Calum’s instead of just feeling the warmth of their proximity. She wanted to close the distance, wanted to feel him in combination with the heat of his body. It was too inviting. Maybe it wasn’t ideal to be so. . . Attracted to someone right after getting out of a relationship as messy as hers and Nathan’s had been. And she hadn’t known Calum long, but she couldn’t lie and say whatever she felt whenever she saw him or thought about him was ordinary. Elodie could easily recognize that whatever she felt for Calum wasn’t something she normally felt. It was exciting.

She wasn’t sure if she was responding to herself or to Calum as her smile widened. “First time for everything.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhale @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @gorgeouslygrace @sunnysidesblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @calistheloml​ @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @fluffsshawn​ @bloodmoonashton​ @tea4sykes @abbypeeta 

[fiction-in-my-blood]

The Bewitching Hour Part 1 (SITS Smut) Kyohei x MC

I’m thinking of turning this into a series with all the guys in it, so if you enjoy, stay tuned :)!

Warnings: Fingering, Sex

~~~~~~

Work had been trouble lately. Not only was the ghostwriter severely struggling with doing her own job, a lot of the Revance members were on edge because of it. Takashi’s Demon Mode had been making more frequent appearances and many worried for their own safety, few also worrying for the only woman in the house. Not only that, The morning the producer woke up, there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Who the hell are you and how did ya get in my house?” Kyohei roared at the half naked, rejectfully majestic man that stood at his fridge, peering at the contents like they were going to put themselves together for his breakfast. The man didn’t seem much phased by the shock of one of the inhabitants of the house that wasn’t his, he found it amusing, that showed on the smirky, mysterious grin that appeared on his face when he turned around.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it, I spent the night.” The admission did nothing to ease Sir Kyo’s suspicion, instead making him more pissed off in the early hour. No one would be a morning person if this is what they had to deal with first thing. 

However, before he could argue, demanding him to explain, a high whine came from the far end of the room. “Mitsu~, I told you not to come down until I was ready.” The strangely provacative yet shy call of the young woman, merely dressed in an overbearing sweater and shorts, hair a mess after the activities she had partaken in the past night, shocked the other resident. 

“But, my dear, you were taking too long. I was getting a different type of hungry.” The man, surely older than her but a gentlemanly youth about him, cooed, a teasing smirk forming on his lips as he remembered what he had been hungry for only a few hours before this conversation. Masami blushed.

“They call it a walk of shame for a reason, Mistu. Get your stuff before anyone else wakes up.” She crossed her arms in defiance, the brunt of her configuration halted by the notebook she held in one hand. Kyohei recognised it as her writing journal. 

“Okay, I guess I can get dressed. Unless you want to keep something for future uses?” The man with fair hair long enough to be pulled back into a long pontail sauntered over to the ghostwriter, leaning over her to steal her lips. Before he could catch them, however, he was blocked by a wad of paper.

“No kissing, Mitsu. It’s in the agreement.” She sighed, almost exhausted with having to remind him all the time. The roll of her innocent eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the slightly distracted producer. 

“Hello. What the hell is going on here?” A little pissed with having such a rude introduction, Kyohei made himself known to the couple. The fact he would soon learn about some of her stress relieving habits brought a blush to Masami’s cheeks, trying to hide them with her hand as Mitsu chuckled to himself beside her. 

“I-I have those lyrics done, Kyohei. Read through them when you’re ready!” The ball of red quickly made her exit after slapping her notebook on the coffee table in the living area. Mitsu couldn’t help but enjoy the sight Kyohei would usually also be happy to see. 

“There’s nothing to fear, sir. Just a trade in professions. You may like the use my services too one day.” With the way Mitsu’s been acting in this extraordinary scenario, Kyohei couldn’t tell what he was suggesting. What was this man’s profession and what did it have to do with Masami?

“If you’d like to see my portfolio, I’d love to comission if you find it desirable.” Only now did Kyohei spot the large art pad held to Mitsu’s body with his arm as he continued to rest his hands in his pockets. 

“You’re an artist?” Kyohei, significantly cooled compared to moments ago, grew slightly curious to the man’s offer. 

“And Miss Mami is my muse, and I her’s. We arranged it years ago.” The nickname rolled off with such ease it showed how close the two must be. Kyohei almost felt jealous just talking to the man. 

“Show me.” He demanded, wanting more to see what had impressed the girl so much to have the obvious relationship they had together. This made that mirthful chuckle reverberate from Mitsu’s chest once again. Despite the clear irritation on the producer’s face, he placed his sketchpad on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Kyohei’s eyes went wide at the images before him.

Pages upon pages of naked women, mostly Masami, framed in comprimising positions, always a lewd look in their eyes. The drawings seemed so realistic, Kyohei almost felt like he was there when it was created, even if they were just sketches- mainly black and white. The one that really caught his eye was the masterpiece on the back page. It was Masami, on her back with her knees pressed to her chest, feet up and vulva on full display. He looked away, an intolerant blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“I’ll say, my most recent piece is my favourite. Masami surely was in her creative flow last night.” A look of pure pride overtook what his usual expression seemed to be as he gazed upon the picture of his business partner. She seemed too innocent most of the time, it was only Mitsu who ever got to see this side of her. 

“Creative flow?” Kyohei was drawn by the odd explanation for such a drawing, his gaze following the man as he ripped the page out with little regard to his other pieces. 

“You don’t know of her Bewitching Hour? And how long has she lived here?” A tone of pity mixed with amusement filtered out of his mouth as he placed the sheet of paper on the counter before closing his book once again.

“Like any woman, Masami is a powerful being. Sometimes her talent gets too much for her and she can’t seem to let it out at all. She gets so pent up sometimes, I’m man enough to admit even I can’t satiate her creativity.” Mitsu laughed on the memory of an irritated Masami climbing off his lap with a heavy sigh of not being able to pleasure herself with his body. He didn’t mind, he had those nights too, it was the joy of their agreement that made him so confident in his abilities.

“But what’s a Bewitching Hour?” Kyohei was beyong interest by now. For months he had wanted to her his hands on the innocent cutie that lived under his roof. This might finally be his chance. 

“It’s just my term for it. She does her best work, in the bedroom and in her songs, at night. The only way she can filter her ideas is in the act, as one would say. On nights I can’t get to her, she’ll desperately play piano. I’ve never heard it myself, but I’m sure its beautiful.” A mesmerised look drifts into Mitsu’s eyes as he imagines all the dirty scenarios he could get into if he could just catch her off guard in one of her musical trances. 

“Remember, if you ever hear music in the dead of night, the Bewitching Hour has begun.”

~~~~~~

Several days after the mysterious and mature artist escaped the Revance home without being spotted by any other members, Kyohei has gotten very little sleep. Mostly from anticipation to hear any type of tune drifting through the halls and some due to the thoughts that clouded his brain. How would he initiate such an occasion? Were her trances even a thing? Would it be right to take advantage of that to experience the feelings he’s been waiting so long to feel? Maybe yes, maybe no. It all depended on her, really. If he showed up, made himself known, and she just happened to jump on him, he wouldn’t stop her. Even if she needed a little coaxing, he would be happy to take the place of her muse if for a night. He just wanted to encounter what he had heard, and seen in still images, was so magical. 

Then, on one fateful night, a jolly tune bounced in the distance and Kyohei shot up in bed. Where or who it was coming from didn’t matter as long as who it was he hoped it would be. He grabbed a shirt just in case this didn’t turn out how he had hoped and stormed out the door. 

In the hallways, following the strangely enticing sound to what must have been from the recording studio, the darkness and tune was a little eery. It was upbeat and fun, but the emptiness of the halls and the hyperawareness that everyone was asleep made a suspicious shiver run up Kyohei’s spine. Please, please don’t let this be Takashi.

Sure enough, through the door that was standing open, was a risquely dressed woman, her fingers jumping along the keys of the keyboard in their in-home recording studio. She was in her pyjamas, a worn tank top that must have been from her teenage years from the cute character on the front and shorts of a different design but just as old. Her hair was up in a rushed bun, sagging to the side when she tilted her head in frustration. Her ideas weren’t flowing the way she wanted them to and Mitsu was in Osaka for an art showing. She had no other outlets. 

Except for the man that now stood directly behind her. She didn’t notice him at first, too wound up in her musical whimsy until she felt a warm pressure on her shoulders. She jumped, the electric instrument groaning with a clatter of keys as her fingers slammed down at the unexpected sensation.

“So tense. You need to relax if you want to get your work done in time not to get punished.” A tone she was all too used to breathed on her ear as Kyohei leaned over head, the feeling of his erection pressing into her back. Not that she could feel it, she was too stunned as to why he was here and too busy trying to bay her urges. No matter who it was, she would go for anyone in this state. Before she had met Mitsu, she would go on the prowl in less that suitable establishments, usually mistaken for a prostitute, even though she was the most dressed person on the whole block. Although, it didn’t matter to her, she usually got what she needed.

“Help me then.” The demanding tone spurred Kyohei on, the stern look making him chuckle. She looked as frustrated as Mitsu had made her sound and that led him to believed that this could happen. That he could get what he want. What they both wanted- for whatever different reasons.

Slowly but directly, Kyohei’s fingers from one hand drifted over her bare skin, along her collarbone and arond her neck, making her look up at him by tugging lightly on it. From some of the sketches in Mitsu’s book, she liked and was a frequent user of positions like these. Masami gulped at the heat that suddenly flooded in her. 

With that slightly startled but so heavily lustful look in her eyes, Kyohei continued, inching his other hand down her chest and under her top. She moaned the second he tweaked her nipple. Both of their hearts raced at this less than innocent act taking place in such a common area of their home. Masami didn’t think about it, too caught up in trying to filter through the words flying around in her head, but Kyohei was metaphorically shitting bricks. If someone came in, would it be his fault? Would she get angry? The sound of a whimper pulled him out of those thoughts though.

“K-Kyohei, ca-can you... Can you finger me?” The forwardness of Masami’s words and the pleading look in her eyes as he held her face up to meet his gaze caused a shot of arousal to fire through Kyohei’s body and he wasted very little time in pulling her up. He quickly looked around for a surface to lay her on, but there was only the couch and the office chair that didn’t have any important equipment on it, so he pushed her onto the ground, laying her legs over his as he leant over to her. His hand was no longer around her neck, instead both were either side of her head, holding himself up over her. 

With her hair sprawled out around her, pale wrists settled close to were his hands were, eyes slightly wide at seeing him in this position and cheeks flushed with desperate but embarrassed need, Kyohei had never been more turned on by any other woman. Masami wasn’t anything special. She didn’t have the ‘perfect’ body or have the greatest make-up skills. She was slow and at times absent-minded, just like right now, she seemed to be concentrating on something else and Kyohei didn’t know that this was what she was usually like in the moment. She was concentrating on her lyrics.

But Kyohei didn’t want that. He wanted all thoughts on him. 

So, sitting back onto his heels, he focused all of his attention to her lower half. Palms falling on her knees, which only now had he realised were slightly bruised and was sure they were from the last time she had done something like this, his hands crept up her legs. The warm sensation on her body, chilled by the cold room and limited clothing, sent an excited shiver through her- dispersing any thoughts of music to the side, just for now, just so something could make sense. There was Kyohei Rikudoh, having her straddle him while she was on her back, making his way to her nether region with a look that seemed a little too excited. 

But, Masami didn’t have time to think that fact over as she felt some sort of pressure on her clit. She gasped out a moan as she looked down to see Kyohei’s thumb disappearing underneath the fabric of her shorts. The motions on her fastened the more she moaned but the second she got a little louder, it was gone. 

But only for a moment. Masami was about to complain before she felt that same digit enter her fully. Although shorter and thinner than some men she’s had, Kyohei’s thumb worked wonders on the nerves that were building up in that area and the nerves that had been in her head for the past few hours. He enjoyed the silent gasping as he pressed in different directions before slipping out and replacing it with his middle finger, once again seeing that short burst of annoyance before her lips parted to take in enough air to remind herself to breath. He wanted so badly to trap those plump things under his, exploring her mouth like it was the Mariana Trench, so, he leaned in.

“No.” A muffled call escaped Masami’s lips as she covered them with her hand, protecting herself from his advances. He stopped his thrusting fingers, wondering if he had hurt her, but she shook her head. 

“N-Not on the lips.” She stuttered, the darkest blush she’s had tonight ligthening her face as she kept her hand there. Kyohei was slightly confused, his brows frowning at the strange demand. She would let him fuck her, but she wouldn’t let him kiss her? Well, he knew she was strange, but he didn’t believe it when she had reprimanded Mitsu. He thought it was just because he was there. 

“I-If that’s gonna be an issue for you...” Masami led off as she sat up, inched herself away the best she could to keep the distance away from their faces and his fingers, which he hadn’t realised where still in her, slipped out. She bit back a moan at that, too embarrassed and scared to have annoyed him to make a noise. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you.” Kyohei smirked, wanting this more than he wanted to exercise each of his fantasifull whims. Masami’s shoulders eased at that and her gaze wondered down his body. 

“Oh?” She muttered at the tent she saw pitched in his shorts. They were loose and thin, something like basketball wear, so she could definitely tell most of that height wasn’t material. She was in for a treat tonight.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward, pulling down his waist band and helping his cock escape before he could say a word. To his surprise, he panicked as she grabbed it with such gentle fingers his hands flew behind him to keep himself upright. As her knees weren’t hooked over his anymore, she could sit on her own legs as Kyohei’s crossed his in front of him.

Masami knew what she was doing, she had a routine. Something she knew worked every other time she had done this act with someone new, so, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick before licking it. 

“You’re rather forward, huh?” Kyohei tried to regain his usual composure as the petite woman before him hardened him so suddenly he worried there’d be no blood left in his skull. She looked up at that incredulous smirk and couldn’t help but blush as she realised what she was doing.

“I want this.” She replied bluntly, not blaming herself for her less than ordinary ways to relieve stress. She licked him one last time before she brought her lips right next to his ear, careful not to let go of his cock. “So, will you fuck me now, Sir Kyo?”

Her questioning tone was almost innocent if not for the words that spilled out of her mouth so easily. Kyohei felt something come over him, an all too familiar feeling of lust, and he pushed her back by her shoulders onto the floor where she had been moments ago. He pulled her shorts and panties off, all in one go, and threw them behind him without much care as to where they ended up.

“You came prepared?” Masami frowned her brows at the condom Kyohei pulled out of his pocket. She wasn’t mad, she was happy he had one, but it did confuse her. She didn’t really know he was aware of her trances. 

“Always am, Miss Mami~.” Kyohei’s teasing tone, mimicking the voice of her usual muse, made the girl blush, covering her frown with the back of her hand as she laid there, waiting patiently. She looked too cute for what he was about to do to her.

“Shut up and help me.” She grumbled, reminding him why they were here in the first place, and Kyohei couldn’t help but chuckle. The two stayed in their separate states until Kyohei sharply entered her. 

Both mind’s turned into a pleasured fog that distracted either side of this couple from the outside world. Not that anything was happening that they would need to look out for, everyone was asleep and Kyohei hade the foresight to close the door. This allowed them, mostly Masami, to moan to their heart’s content. She clutched the top that fluttered over her as Kyohei towered over, holding himself up with one hand and her right thigh with the other. 

“K-Kyohei.” She gasped out, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him as his hand massaged that part of her leg, waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move. He seemed pushy, but he did care, being the secretly thoughtful guy he was. The sound of his name told the producer he could start thrusting. 

“You’re so tight.” He grunted as those movements pulled him out of the short but sweet trance he found himself in as he watched the young woman writhe beneath him distracted him from the tightness of her. How could a woman said to be so risque and ravaging seem so virginal?

“Y-You’re just big.” The comment made her blush and she pouted, momentarily preoccupied from the heavenly sensation slowly grinding into her. 

“Don’t frown like that. I’m sure you’ve dreamt about this, haven’t you?” He drew even closer to her once again, propped on his elbows as he continued to thrust in and out of her, one hand holding her cheek. He was careful not to make it seem like he would try to kiss her. 

The smugness of his tone and sudden hard pound of his hips made Masami’s hands fly down his torso to grip the skin of his behind, hoping it would spur him onto giving her more of that much needed pleasure. “K-Kyohei.” Her ideas were finally organising themselves. She was so close. All she needed was a little encouragement. 

“Go on. Scream my name. I know you want to.” Even though his own breathing started to hasten, his heart racing and his words sometimes tripping over themselves, Kyohei tried to seem as cool as he usually was. But, the clawing feeling on his lower back and arching of her’s, pressing their bodies even closer together was just so erotic, he found his own thoughts becoming jumbled. There was so much he wanted to say, so many dirty things he wanted to whisper in her ear to make her blush harder, to stutter his name more, he couldn’t understand any of the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Something about loving something, but the shriek of the woman below him pulled his thoughts away from that strange sensation.

“K-Kyohei!” Arms flying up his body and around his neck, pulling him closer and her up so he could snake an arm around her, holding their bodies flush together, Masami couldn’t hold back anymore.

“More. Please. I need so much more!” She whimpered in his ear and he only just realised his thrusts had slowed while he was thinking. Then, one thought made sense. Flipping them over so he was on his back and Masami was sitting on his lap, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure she must have been hollowed out by him, Kyohei smirked. 

“Go on, do it yourself. Use me to inspire you.” Sitting, holding each other, his hand clutching the back of her hair so he could whisper in her ear without risk of her pulling back, Kyohei pulled as much out of her as he could. Albeit the ground prohibitted most of his movement. When he loosened his grip, Masami sat up, looking at him with another one of her cutely questioning expressions.

“How do you- Oh!” Masami gasped as he pushed her hips down, mainly to distract her from her question and also to pleasure himself. Her hands once again clenched the fabric on his chest and she subconsciously started bouncing up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin sounding between them. Heavy breathing, moans of each other’s names, and the smell of hot, sweaty sex filled the room. It was lucky they had good ventilation in here.

It didn’t take much longer for either to finish, coincidentally at the same time, and when they both felt each other’s releases, Masami collasped forward, landing on Kyohei’s chest with a soft thud. She was panting, her thighs aching slightly from the exercise, and Kyohei chuckled, his arms sprawled out either side of him. The two finally had a moment of silence...

...Until Masami jumped up, his penis sliding out of her but she didn’t seem to care much, and yanked her journal from the table she had been struggling over before he showed up. As if this hadn’t just happened, as if one of the most sort of bachelors at the moment wasn��t laying half-naked on the floor behind her, Masami started working. She started pouring her heart out onto the pages in front of her, making quick work of the song she had been struggling with for the past day and a half. 

It couldn’t be hidden, Kyohei was a little pissed. He had just had one of the most amazing sex sessions he had ever experiences, and she was still able to make it to the desk chair and write? So, he got up, meaning to turn her around and pound her against that journal that seemed to occupy her thoughts, when she met his stern gaze with a delighted smile. He only now saw the slightly darkened rings under her eyes and, despite that, she still looked adorable. 

“Thanks, Kyohei, you were a big help!” Masami cheered, slapping her book shut and standing up, only to find the two much closer than she had anticipated. Both their lower halves were completely on show, but she couldn’t let herself look down. She was beat but, most of all, she was able to write. She had been able to accompish what she set out to do. 

Kyohei just chuckled at his own stupidity. He should have understood what Mitsu meant when she really did just use his body to satiate her creativity. This was just a trade in professions, a transferable muse and a writer, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Call me if you need anymore help.” He winked, his smug smirk returning to his face as Masami blushed at the offer, turning to find her shorts, throwing them on and running out the door so she could finally get some much needed sleep. What neither of them had realised was the pair of panties, tucked behind a filing cabinet after Kyohei had carelessly thrown them over his shoulder. 

[bi-nick-carraway]

Blinking Lights and Starry Eyes

Chapter 1

Summary: A 1950s high school natsby au. Read to find out ;)

Warnings: brief mention of cigarettes and alcohol, some vage sexual implications, reference to racism, Tom Buchanan

Note: This is not going to be an accurate representation of the 1950s. I tried (even tho I didn't really). I haven't written a fic in a long time and with the quarantine I figured why not. Hope you enjoy! (Also if someone could teach me how to do the "under the cut" thing is be eternally grateful. I use mobile and can't figure anything out.)

    The hallways were, as usual, gray, dull, and boring. It seemed as if time was moving slower every day. I never did enjoy school that much, despite what others might have thought. I was always studying and reading, never late to class, never partied, never spent my parents’ money on cigarettes or alcohol. I never even wanted to. School, parties, all of it just seemed boring to me. I wanted out of it all.

    My cousin Daisy, on the other hand, practically owned the school. Everywhere she went, she was treated like some kind of queen. Why she attended a regular public school like everyone else, I could never figure out. Expensive prep schools probably weren’t her idea of fun. Although her current idea of fun was named Tom Buchanan. She had gone through no small number of sweethearts, several of which her parents would never even think to approve of, but her relationship with Tom felt more permanent than any of the others. His family’s money probably had something to do with it, or maybe she got pregnant a little early. Either way, I was getting tired of seeing her following that jerk around.

    Unfortunately for me, that jerk was hell bent on making every day of my life miserable. Maybe he was making an effort to befriend Daisy’s relative, maybe he just had a natural attraction towards our family. Some days I wouldn’t have minded if it was the latter. His head may have been empty but his thighs sure looked hot in those shorts he always wore running.

I had just gotten out of my Advanced Composition class when he approached me, wearing a hideous blue and orange striped sweater and that wide aggressive grin that made me want to turn and walk away. But I forced a smile in return, even when he slapped my shoulder so hard I had to force myself to not wince.

“Nick!” Tom greeted, voice deep and unintentionally threateningly, at least I think it was unintentional.

“Hi, Tom,” I responded. As always, my voice weakened in the presence of a man stronger physically than myself, though Tom wasn’t exactly my first choice. “What’s up?’

“I need some advice.” That was surprising. “Have you heard about the new kid?” I shook my head. “Figures. Well, this kid, I think his name’s Jay Gatsby, everyone coulda sworn he was a dropout. Used to go here awhile back, then left out of nowhere. Now he’s back with hair full of a bucket of grease and girls falling for him left and right.”

“And why do you need my advice?”

“Here’s the thing. Gatsby and Daisy used to hang out before he left, but he didn’t have any money so no one felt sorry when it ended with them. But now he’s back and I’ve heard he’s made a ton of cash.”

“Tom,” I stopped him. “I understand your concern, but Daisy has no intention of leaving you for some guy with grease in his hair. I promise.” When the bell rang I bit back a swear. “I need to get to Algebra. Good luck, Tom.” I started towards my class, knowing full well that Tom had no intention of attending next period.

“You coming to The Green Light later?” Tom called after me.

“Maybe, but I have a report due.” Without any further comments, I walked quickly to my class to avoid Tom’s guilt trip. I didn’t want to hang out with any of his football buddies, but I knew Daisy liked seeing me there while she waited tables, and I hadn’t been in weeks. The report wasn’t a lie, but eventually I figured one night at the diner wouldn’t hurt.

One night wouldn’t hurt. That’s what I tried to convince myself as I sat between two giants in letterman jackets. Did it feel nice to be sandwiched between two men for the first time in weeks? Sure, but nothing coming out of their mouths was attractive at all. Tom, in particular, liked to talk garbage about black. He had read a book defining the scientific evidence of white superiority. I smiled and nodded when needed, but I felt awful for the woman working behind the counter. She was polite and served them drinks, and then had to hear all this trash about her skin color.

“Hello, boys,” Daisy said as she rushed over to check in. Any vulgar talk stopped immediately in the presence of an attractive female. I tried not to roll my eyes, mainly because I loved my cousin and didn’t want to offend her. “Anything I can get you?”

“No thanks, darling, but the service here is great,” Tom flirted and winked. The rest of them agreed, and I tried my best to smile at her. Smiling at my dear cousin was hard to do while surrounded by such horrible people. More than half of them wanted nothing more than to bed her, even when she was Tom’s girl. I guess I couldn’t blame them. If I liked girls and if Daisy wasn’t my cousin, I could see why seeing her in that little green skirt and coffee-stained apron would make a guy go crazy. Her gold curls falling down her shoulders certainly didn’t help. The boys around were practically drooling, except for Charlie sitting next to Tom. That wasn’t any kind of mystery. I knew for a fact that Charlie had a very sweet, very kissable mouth. I sent him a smirk for the fun of it and forced back a laugh when he glared and his cheeks went red.

“Nick,” Daisy started, snapping my attention away from the flustered jock, “why don’t you start working here? Sally just left for college, and I know you don’t have anything else going on.”

“Thanks for pointing out my social life, Dais,” I said, getting a laugh out of some of the guys, “but you know I have to study. I have three tests coming up next week.”

“He’s a slave to the system, baby,” Tom said with a good-natured grin. Daisy rolled her eyes.

“We could still use a few extra hands,” Daisy said.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. She knew I was teasing her. She always did.

After a while, people started filtering out. It had gotten late. One of the guys was having drinks at his place, but I politely declined in favor of some last minute studying. I stayed a little longer. I could have dragged Charlie behind the diner for some fun, but he didn’t look like he was in the mood for it. I’m not sure I was in the mood for it, either, probably just had some steam to blow off.

When I finally decided to leave the hazy green light inside the diner, I walked out into the cool evening air. It felt nice, and it was just starting to smell like spring. Winter that year hadn’t been harsh at all, but I was still looking forward to the warmer weather.

As I paused for a moment to appreciate the fresh air, something caught me off guard. I saw a young man leaning against a beat up Harley. He wore a leather jacket over a white shirt, and his blond hair was slicked back with one stubborn lock hanging in the middle of his forehead. His beauty is what I noticed first. What I noticed next was his longing stare directed at The Green Light Diner. I shrugged it off as some creep waiting for a cute girl to come out, despite how poetic the image appeared. I walked away, hoping he didn’t catch me staring at him, and headed home. The stars were coming out, and the back of my mind hoped I would see that beautiful young man again.

tags: @low-key-aesthetic

[aahsoka]

So having been on tiktok for a bit I wanna talk a little about it.

What I like

It’s actually rather entertaining to scroll through up to 30 second videos one after the other. Sometimes the humor falls flat or it’s not your taste, but the algorithim is quite good at recommending the kind of content you will like.

I joined right when there was a big trend going around about sharing your culture, and soon after a Blackout trend where non-Black creators stopped posting for a day & spread/supported videos by Black creators. So I ended up with a fairly diverse fyp or “for you page”. It also quickly gathered that I am bisexual, so I get plenty of lgbt+ content. There’s some art mixed in there, some cosplay, some historical costuming/seamstresses, lots of avatar jokes lately, musical theatre content, fashion, girls in bikinis on rollerskates (in outer space), commentary on political issues, body positivity, all the kinds of stuff I like. To get a feed that caters to your interests you just have to watch & like videos you’re interested in & eventually it gets a feel for what you’ll watch and what you won’t.

Theres a trend where people say which ‘side’ of tiktok they’re on and I get ‘science side of tumblr’ flashbacks but I’ve mostly avoided the “straight” and conservative sides of tiktok. I would be considered a part of “woke”, “alt” (as in alternative) and lgbt+ tiktok (there are separate ones for each letter of the acronym). Possibly also “theatre” and “cosplay” tiktok. These categories are nebulous and you’re usually part of multiple communities; its just as arbitray as ‘science side of tumblr’ was.

The format reminds me of snapchat a little, and I love to talk to myself on video & post dumb thirst traps for my friends (none of which I’m attracted to so idk what my goal is there) and make stupid jokes. So this app is kinda perfect for my attention seeking side & hyperactive tendencies. Its very easy to consume on a short attention span, though not as easy as vine was.

Being in quarantine, its a way for a lot of people to engage in hobbies that involve community. Cosplay is pretty popular, as its a fun way to show off a costume & dress up & have fun without having to attend a convention. I enjoy the way lip synced audios can be used to emulate the character someone is dressed as; that’s something you couldn’t really do unless you were really good at impressions. Its a nice succinct way to show the process of creating a cosplay as well.

Those who enjoy theatre, but cannot perform in shows at this time, are able to create mini-monologues & sketches as well as sing parts of their favorite songs. Its an avenue through which to perform without putting anyone at risk of the virus. It’s also an easy way to show off your talents without having to go through the audition process & actually get cast in a show as a prominent enough role that someone will notice it.

It’s a convenient format for discourse and educational videos. Nice, short, easily digestible tidbits that stay in your mind. This extremely catchy song, for example: “Black neighborhoods are overpoliced, so of course they have higher rates of crime, and white perpetrators are undercharged, so of course they have lower rates of crime. And all of those stupid stats you keep using are operating off a small sample size. So, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up”.

As well as other videos where people take the time to explain historical events, satirize racist arguments to demonstrate why they are wrong, talk about prevalent tropes in movies, teach a few signs in ASL, share facts about their culture, etc, etc. I have found there are quite a lot of people there from unique and fairly unknown cultures and backgrounds- and this is a place where they’re able to share their culture & existence with people all over the world. There are a thousand different viewpoints. Their videos are doing far more for diverse representation than any other platform, I’d argue, as everyone is extremely visible on the app. (‘Their’ as in the creators, not the app itself).

I also have enjoyed coming across new artists on the app. It’s really fun to watch the process they go through, as most art videos deal with the whole creation of a piece. It’s inspiring. I have also come across a painter who’s work I’m in love with, and a woman who makes and sells the CUTEST ceramic mugs, and I need to purchase some stuff from them both.

Now onto the bad:

Unfortunately, the app doesn’t have much in the way of a filtering or warning system. I talked about that tiktok of the kids coming across human remains? That was just on people’s fyp. Just popped up. No warning. No reason for it to still be up. Traumatizing.

You can click on a video and say ‘not interested’ (I do this to literally every video I get where some girl is thirsting after kylo ren 🤮..... like I want the star wars videos just not THOSE videos). However, it doesn’t seem to know exactly why you weren’t interested, because I still get those videos from time to time. There’s no content filter where I can blacklist the kylo ren or any other hashtag.

There’s some very shitty content. There are racist conservatives. Misogynistic teen white boys. Really weird thirst traps. Videos where people lip sync to something with a straight face and tag it with #acting. Harmful body image trends. I thankfully stay very clear of this, but this kind of content makes me worry for the minors on the app. The one’s who don’t have enough of a concept of self yet to realize they don’t need to be able to do the newest pointless beauty trend to be beautiful, to realize it’s ok for them to be gay, to realize how predatory some adults can be, etc etc.

It is extremely easy to come across minors on the app who don’t look like teens. One time I went to a girl’s page and it said she was FIFTEEN. I’m usually good at guessing ages but something about this app messes that up. I wish there was a way to separate people under 18 and adults. Where I don’t have minor’s thirst traps popping up on my fyp. Where pedophiles don’t get a chance to curate that fyp intentionally. If anyone reading this has kids, I highly recommend they make their tiktok private or only viewable to friends.

Just like any site, there are plenty of bigots. Lots of racist comments. Plenty of transphobia. Any hatred you’ve seen elsewhere, of course it exists on tiktok. I have actually zero clue if you can report people & if it works. Most people seem to send a video commentary to their haters or duet a video of a racist pointing out their racism. I’ve heard of creators blocking people, however. I remember a tiktok of a Black woman who’s video somehow went fairly viral in Poland and now she gets a lot of racist comments from this large group of random racisf Polish followers she has and its extremely time consuming to block them all, as there’s no mass block feature.

The rumors about what works with the algorithm and doesn’t abound. I’ve heard well lit videos get more views. Many people suspect they have been shadowbanned for speaking out about current events. TikTok will remove the audio from videos sometimes if they deem it controversial enough. Most of us know they were criticized recently for intentionally keeping Black creator’s videos from being seen (a catalyst for the Blackout, actually). Or you may also recall when it was criticized for widely removing lgbt+ content. Those creators are fighting to be seen the same amount as straight cis white creators are allowed to be seen with no effort.

The effects some trends could have on teen girls. So many of them are already so uncomfortable in their own skin simply because of societal standards, but the absolutely meaningless challenges people come up with on tiktok make it so much worse. One trend was based around whether your finger touched your lips when you put it in your nose. Or if you could get your clasped hands around the back of your legs and over your butt (if they get passed, you have a flat ass, if they get stuck, its big). These completely arbitrary signifiers of the things you need to have in order to be pretty, are far more ridiculous that anything I have seen yet in my life. I worry about little girls taking these ideas to heart. There is a very kind body positive community on the app & I hope more people can find that.

There’s also that thing where they steal your data. Like most apps. But apparently they got a lot more invasive than usual, so I would look into it before making an account; if you want to do that.

I think the apps users can be great & its a pretty intuitive set up. It certainly deserves its popularity solely as a creative form of social media. That being said, its owners are so so insidious & do the worst things. Just like all other social media, its controlled by the worst kind of people. Who can never figure out how to effectively get rid of nazis or keep kids safe from adult content.

These are my less serious gripes with the app:

1) Lip syncing

When people lip sync and don’t do any kind of skit, joke, etc, just look as if they’re saying what someone else said; I hate that. I have to go back and find the original tiktok so I can like it instead. You literally did nothing interesting by ripping off someones audio and moving your lips along to it. So many people on this app are creative and so many others lack any semblance of creativity.

Also people are too easily impressed by lip syncing to kinda-fast songs. I lip synced to like....10 seconds of the devil went down to georgia and two people praised my lip syncing abilities. Like, I can also sing and talk fast, out loud, isn’t that more impressive? more skillful? The fiddle playing in that song is impressive, not the fact I can lip sync ‘the devil went down to georgia, he was lookin for a soul to steal, he was in a bind, cause he was way behind.’ Have you ever seen someone play Johnny’s fiddle solo????? It’s insane!!!

Rather than see someone lip sync to the verse in Stressed Out 2x faster than normal (which is, extremely simple and the song was overplayed and ingrained into our collective consciousness) and go WOW what about someone.....doing the verse out loud. You can litterally just mouth random words and look like you’re saying the right ones. It’s driving me crazy lmao. I’m set to become a God of tiktok because I have a repertoire of fast songs and rap verses memorized. It’s not even an uncommon skill to speak or sing quickly, people literally make rap music for a living! Listen to it maybe.

2) “Acting”

I am begging you to stop making me sit through those horrible POVs. I cannot take another girl not quite fake crying towards the camera as she lip syncs the words from a song that apply to the random situation she decided she was in. I cannot take another boy who thinks its sexy to stare into a camera and smirk in every single situation he creates.

Back to lip syncing, making facial expressions along to words isn’t really acting. Try saying the words out loud perhaps? The inflection you use with your lines is a pretty big part of acting. Like you can lip sync all you want, just stop tagging it with #acting.

3) Comedic timing, or lack thereof

You don’t need the entire intro to sit there looking at the camera waiting until the first line starts and you can lip sync to the part that’s the joke. You could cut off at least 15 seconds. Brevity is the soul of wit.

When your joke involves both reading text on screen and listening to the song for the punchline, if it isn’t done prefectly, its so difficult to follow. I can’t read a paragraph in 5 seconds. Paraphrase.

4) self deprecating artist audio

the audio thats like ‘this wont get views’ ‘I suck’ ‘you probably won’t see this anyway’ LOVE YOURSELF

It sucks when people dont enagage with your art but it sucks worse when your value in yourself and you art is based solely on receiving that validation. Please find a healthy medium.

Also you’re asking for pity, and you don’t want that. You want people who genuinely love your art for what it is.

5) editing videos is really hard how do you make such cool & smooth transitions????

please help me I don’t understand

Finally

here’s my account if you’re interested

[hello-robin-goodfellow]

THE DIFERENT CYCLES OF NOSTALGIA FILTER

Most of the nostalgia towards the past is based on Nostalgia Filter. The good stuff is remembered and the bad stuff ignored, forgotten or not even taken in account. When it's about a time period Two Decades Behind people will be nostalgic for it because they experienced it themselves, but from the viewpoint of a child or a teenager, when they didn't have to worry about all the adult stuff that depresses them nowadays, because the grownups took care of all that: taxes, work, bills, tragic news events,... If the nostalgia is about a time period people didn't directly experience themselves the romanticism is even more rampant. People will base their rosy posy image of that time period on stuff they have seen and read in books, comic strips, cartoons, TV series, films, old photos and/or fond memories of older family members. Usually they aren't aware that many things they now take for granted didn't always exist back then or were still considered highly controversial.

The glories of Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome where the cradle of philosophy and science started, everyone is able to enlist in the army (well, if you weren't a woman or a slave, of course) and see the world while doing so. You can go and enjoy watching Olympic Games, a play in the theater or watch exciting gladiator battles in the arena, philosophers like Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and Virgil are respected as pillars of their societies, and people were opened to sex and LGBT as opposed to the close-minded Christians in later centuries. Not taken in account: class systems, people dying early of diseases we nowadays have proper treatment for, slavery, democracy only for rich upperclass males citizens, bloody battles, Roman military service had to be fulfilled several years! before you could retire and start a civilian life, women having no rights, not even allowed to watch sporting games, xenophobia was so prevalent that would make modern prejudices and bigotry look tame, scientific contributions were more based on superstitions and empirical and weren't always based on logic (see Plato's and Aristotle's works), pederasty was the only accepted form of homosexuality and it was punishable if a relationship did not fit in those criteria (also it was only tolerated in some city and states), Roman sexuality was still arguably patriarchal and not all sexual taboo was acceptable (ie. a wealthy man get away with his slaves while married women were expected to be faithful, oral sex was considered shameful).

The thousand years of Chinese dynasties up until Republic was the time where people dressed in beautiful colorful haifu with good etiquette and manners, scholars were appreciated, education was valued as opposed during the Cultural Revolution, the Tang Dynasty was the golden age of prosperity and where women has more rights than any other periods. Not taken in account: the Confucians were oppressive against the lower social classes, the caste system, education systems were corrupted with many scholars and students were promoted based on bribes rather than actual skills, women were still considered inferior in the Tang Dynasty, the royal court were so deadly and decadent that would make the place in wuxia media look tame, slavery, the rebellions and civil wars (ie. The Three Kingdoms, An Lushan Rebellion, Taiping Rebellion) that were very common that cost million of lives that went unheard of and resulted in many famine and diseases that led to cannibalism, footbinding was practiced since the Song Dynasty, xenophobia was prevalent including against their sister countries like Japan and Korea.

The Middle Ages are usually romanticized as a glorious past with chivalrous knights fighting for the honor of beautiful princesses, proving their worth in tournaments, stuffing themselves at royal buffets with the kind old king, and defending castles against malevolent invaders. Not taken in account: The Plague, wars, mercenaries and soldiers plundering farms and villages, filthy streets, people dying at a young age because of insufficient knowledge of diseases, the injustice of the feudal system, monarchs and the Catholic Church being oppressive towards people with other viewpoints, high illiteracy, people executed and tortured for audience's pleasure and often without anything resembling a fair trial, women considered being lesser in status than men, famine whenever harvests failed... Ironically, the part that was arguably good, the Byzantine Empire (with its extremely high literacy and such luxuries as running water) is usually overlooked or completely ignored.

The Renaissance and The Enlightenment are the time when society finally got out of the bleak, primitive and God fearing Dark Middle Ages and gained wisdom by discovering a lot of stuff. Kings and queens never looked more magnificent. Artists and sculptors painted the finest works and humanists, philosophers and Protestants learned humanity to think for themselves. You could enjoy a Shakespeare play, listen to baroque classical music or have a swashbuckling duel. Not taken in account: A lot of new thought and discoveries in the field of science were very slowly adapted into society. Mostly because a lot of royals, religious authorities and other government officials suppressed these "dangerous" new ideas. Compared to those "primitive" Middle Ages more people have been hanged or burned on the stake for their beliefs and/or on the assumption that they were witches during the 1500s, 1600s and 1700s than in the centuries before! The Reformation and Counter-Reformation divided Europe and caused many casualties. All the great books and art works created during this era were only enjoyed or experienced by the very rich. Wars still ravaged Europe, colonization exploited other continents, slavery became a real industry and absolutism made the monarchy and nobility so powerful and decadent that they didn't care about the lower classes. Duels weren't glorious at all, just a matter of killing off your opponent.

The Golden Age of Piracy is one big adventure where you could go on a boat trip with pirates and have fun attacking other ships, taking gold and bury or search for treasure on some Deserted Island. Men were real men with a Badass Beard and cool looking eye patches, hooks for hands and wooden legs. Not taken in account: scurvy, people forced to do what their captain told them, your ship being attacked by other ships and losing, keelhauling, loot just being spent instead of buried, anti-piracy laws could get you arrested and hanged, storms could destroy your ship, all the cool looking eye patches, hooks for hands and wooden legs were just practical solutions for grievous injuries suffered during fights, and the fact that most of the Caribbean economy was reliant on the slave trade. There were also plenty of brutal attacks on helpless villages, indigenous communities, plantations, civilian ships, and even colonial settlements. In addition to helping themselves to everything that wasn't tied down, pirates would also torture, murder, enslave, and/or rape men, women, and children indiscriminately just for their own sick pleasure.

America's Wild West is a fun era where you could roam the prairie on a horse, visit saloons and shoot outlaws and Indians. Not taken in account: slavery was not abolished until deep in the 19th century and still going on in many colonies or remote place in the American South, cowboys took care of cattle and didn't engage in gun fights, gun violence was just as illegal as it is nowadays and could get you arrested by local sheriffs, outlaws could actually remain on the loose for several years, Native Americans being massacred by white settlers and armies, black people having no basic human rights, The Ku Klux Klan was a respected organization...)

The mid-to-late 19th century and early 20th century were a classy time period where everybody was impeccably dressed and had good manners. You could take a coach ride or (later on) test the "horseless carriage", read some of the greatest novels in history, listen to the first records or even the great Caruso in person, admire the wonders of electricity and enjoy a world still untouched by modern industry. Life in the colonies was even more fun because you so many countries were still unexplored territory and the ideal place for adventure. Not taken in account: Victorian values were dominant, women couldn't vote, poor people couldn't vote, industrialization didn't have any health, safety or ethical rules to obey, child labor was rampant, workers had no rights, factories were very harmful to people's health and the environment, city rivers were open sewers, upper class had all the advantages upon the lower class, people could be sent to the poor house when they couldn't pay their debts, many novels were just pulp (think of it as the 19th century version of Internet) and music was strictly symphonic, the first automobiles were as dangerous as electricity, colonization was great for white Europeans but not as much for the oppressed native populations of Africa and Asia, animals were still hunted down as trophies, people who looked different were exploited in freak shows and circuses for spectators to Come to Gawk.

The Interbellum (1920s and 1930s): Between the two world wars, life was great. Everybody went to night clubs and/or revue theaters where they could enjoy great jazz music, girls and comedians. Movie theaters were a great place to be, because fantastic cinematic masterpieces were made. On the radio you could great music and serials, and newspapers published the best and most engaging comic strips ever printed. Not taken in account: From 1920 until 1933 alcohol was prohibited in the USA, so having an alcoholic drink was impossible without getting arrested or dying because of bad homemade brew. Crime was able to organize itself in a way that will probably never get untangled again. Many people got murdered in gangster violence. Jazz music was initially seen as "barbaric" just because it was made by blacks, and it had to be adapted to symphonic music to make it well-known. Hollywood in its early years was subject to more scandals than ever since, leading to a industry-wide censorship that lasted until the 1960s. The Great Depression between 1929 and 1940 caused major unemployment and poverty in many civilized countries, also forcing quite some people to start a life in crime. The "Dust Bowl" generated a desertification of the Midwest. Germany was particularly struck hard, because the country was still paying huge war debts to other countries, causing mass poverty and the ideal atmosphere for Nazism to gain voters. Many countries during this time period suffered under either Nazism, Fascism or Communism. From 1933 on Jewish, homosexual, Romani and left wing people were already persecuted in Nazi Germany, at the same time disagreeing in anything with Stalin meant a one-way ticket to Siberia. War was already brewing in Europe and the Far East, when Japan invaded China and South East Asia. Many countries were still colonies, which wasn't a great deal for the natives there. Afro-Americans were still second class citizens and the Ku Klux Klan was still quite powerful in many political circles.

The '40s and World War II, the time where the entire world was united against a common evil foe and soldiers could still fight a just cause. Everybody worked together to defeat the Nazis or Japanese, while enjoying great Hollywood films and jazz and big band records on the radio. Not taken in account: Not everyone was united against the Axis. Numerous people (even Lindbergh and Ford) didn't consider Nazism or Fascism anything bad or felt their country should stay neutral in the war. During the occupations many people on both sides were arrested, deported, and/or murdered. People couldn't trust anyone, because your neighbor might be a Nazi collaborator or a spy who would turn you in to the authorities. The Nazis banned American and English music and films in Europe, so you could get in big trouble if you tried. Also, you know, there was a big war on. Millions of young soldiers were drafted and died on the battlefield, cities were bombed and occupied by enemy armies, you could die any day, shortages were rife.

The '50s: The last truly great time period in history. Music, films, politicians were nice, clean and decent. There was a general optimistic feeling about the future, exemplified in sunny fashions, interiors and technology. The youth enjoyed some great rock 'n' roll on their transistor radios and the early TV shows show how happy and pleased everybody was. Not taken in account: the Cold War, the Red Scare, anti-communist witch hunts, the Korean War, the French Indochina War, many European countries tried violently oppressing the inevitable independence of their colonies, Afro-Americans were still second-rate citizens in the USA and had to fight for human rights, homosexuals were forced to keep their sexual identity silent in many countries, the traditional role of women as housewives was still encouraged in many Western countries, a lot of music in the hit parade was still the bland, square, formulaic and sappy crooner music popular since the 20s, adults were scared of early rock 'n' roll and actually did everything to suppress the youth from listening to it and becoming teenage delinquents, the TV shows and films of that decade were so escapist that they ignored every controversial element.

The '60s and The '70s, a great time when everybody was a beatnik or a hippie and enjoyed fantastic rock music, marijuana, LSD and free love. People chased bad guys with their own hands with cool funk and disco music playing in the background. The young demonstrated for more democratic rights and everything changed for the better. Not taken in account: the older generation looked down upon hippies, the Vietnam War cost many lives, The Cuba Missile Crisis nearly caused a nuclear war between the USA and USSR, Afro-Americans still had to fight for civil rights, just like today there were just as much idealistic but naïve demonstrators who merely wasted time smoking pot instead of actually doing something, drug casualties were just as rampant back then as they are today, people took the law on their hands because of the alarming crime rates, not helped by the extreme corruption of police forces, psychedelic rock, funk and disco are now confined to sit in the shadow of both rock-and-roll and modern pop music, to the point that for decades, these were considered as the most cheesy genres created by man, [[not all demonstrators were pacifistic in their approach and it's an open question whether everything actually changed for the better.

The '80s: Oh yes. A great decade for pop culture after the sordid '70s and before everything went to the gutter in the '90s: Everybody felt a bright future coming along, as demonstrated by good TV shows, groundbreaking technology, computers and videogames, colorful clothing, simple yet catchy pop music and finally a TV channel that showed your favorite bands 24/7. The Cold War came to an end, the Berlin Wall and Apartheid fell. Not taken in account: The early 1980s had many people fear the Cold War wasn't going to end well. The Latin American debt crisis. President Reagan wanted more nuclear missiles in Europe, envisioned the Star Wars defense system and the "Evil Empire" speech reflected the "Red Scare" at a time "the Bomb" was still making everybody nervous. The Cold War, Berlin Wall and Apartheid did fall, but only near the end of the decade. Unemployment and economic crisis were a huge problem in many Western countries in the early years of the decade and the high speculation led to a bubble which fatigued in 1987 and burst in 1989. AIDS caused many victims because governments were slow to inform the general public on this disease as most people at first dismissed as just a problem for blacks, gays and drug users. TV shows and movies were extremely escapist and PCs and video games were prohibitively expensive. MTV did bring music videos on TV, but the downside was that how a pop star looked and danced became more important than the music, which was now created by computers, becoming increasingly sappy and repetitive as samples became the norm, becoming a disadvantage for those who still wanted to use actual instruments, chords and tunes. Metal and rap were seen as crime-mongering and even "satanic" as a whole. Also drugs went artificial during this time, turning Florida into a Crapsaccharine World. The nuclear power plant explosion in Chernobyl caused another major fear among people about the dangers of nuclear power.

The '90s and The Aughts: Dude. The Cold War has ended, and though some pesky Arabs (and some nutcases in the West) will try to blow people up and some Central European countries will be at each other's throats, there is peace at last! Outsourcing has lifted the West from the heavy load of manual work for good and turn to technology, and anyways, isn't the Internet wonderful? Society and culture are now free to break all imposed boundaries: Music has become more authentic with the arrival of rap, hip-hop, grunge and pop-punk. TV and movies now address modern issues instead of being stuck in those stodgy 50s and 60s. Politicians at last agree on stuff and generally get along. Whatever. Not taken in account: While a couple of years in the late 1990s were quite peaceful, the years before were marked by the extremely chaotic rearrangement of the former Warsaw Pact nations and the decade after was dominated by the Iraq War and memories of 9/11. The "technological revolution" ultimately never became the boon it was supposed to be: Economically, the exodus of manufacturing jobs forced the middle class to live on debt, which would give way to an economic meltdown by the end of the 2000s while privacy would gradually become a major source of concern as personal data became readily accessible. During the 1990s, the Internet was very expensive and was the province of businessmen and geeks while during the following decade, online downloads and chatrooms became incendiary topics. Grunge and "gangsta rap" were better known at their peak for the demise of several of their stars than for the music while hip-hop and pop-punk would be regarded in retrospective as trashy as the bubblegum pop that dominated the late 90s. By increasingly appealing to the trendy set, TV and film became increasingly shallow. While ideological differences became a thing of the past, politics became more self-serving and conflicts became pettier. As a result, people began to feel a sense of disconnection, which eventually led to the rise of strongly ideological populist movements.

SOURCE:

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NostalgiaAintLikeItUsedToBe

EXTRA: IN THE DISTANT YEAR OF 2045.

The New '10s and New '20s : Remember that meme? Do you have a Harriet doll? I need her to complet my My Little Poney: Friendship is Magic and Equestria Girls collection. Do you want to exchange her for my Fluttershy doll? Oh, do you like Lady Gaga? Her music was so deep. “Oppan Gangnam style. Gangnam style. Op, op, op, op oppan Gangnam style. Gangnam style. Op, op, op, op oppan Gangnam style. Eh sexy lady. Op, op, op, op oppan Gangnam style. Ehh sexy lady, oh, oh. Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh”. Oh, i love your funko pop of Baby Groot!  “ Gotta get that. Gotta get that. Gotta get that. Gotta get that that that. Boom boom boom (Gotta get that). Boom boom boom (Gotta get that). Boom boom boom (Gotta get that). Boom boom boom. (Gotta get that) Boom boom boom. That boom boom boom. That boom boom boom. Boom boom boom”. Avengers Assemble! 

Not taken in account: The Syrian refugee crisis. The burning of the Amazon jungle. Donald Trump as the american president. Jair Bolsonaro as the brazilian president. The Covid-19 Pandemic. Navy oil in the beachs of the brazilian north east. The Brazilian Cinematheque getting closed. Height of murders of LGBTQ in Brazil. Disney monopolizing the american TV an Movie Industry.

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