#he is very careful how he talks about it (read: he never talks about it) so he doesn't confess to murder by mistake

[highvern]

Nights Like These

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: fluff, neighbor!au, Nightwing! mingyu based off this, bartender reader

warnings: very dumb people (mingyu x reader), suggestive but no explicit smut

Length: ~2k

Note: merry gyumas!!!!! this is revenge for spider woo from @gyuswhore if you hate it, it's bc i wrote it in like 3 hours. thank u @the-boy-meets-evil i will be enacting my revenge on you soon. MWAH!

summary: On nights when you close the bar late, a friendly hero always happens to be around to walk you home and share his woes about the crush on his neighbor.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

With the rain pounding down in thick sheets, you rush home. On nights like these, when you're the last one out of the bar, completely alone, are always the worst. The bus doesn’t run this late but at least you’re only a few blocks from your apartment. A ten minute run if you don’t stop.

The rain abruptly halts. Not that you’re lucky enough for the storm to pass but because someone falls into step beside you. “Need an umbrella?”

You don’t even need to look to know who it is. He always shows up when you have the closing shift. The man who runs around the city in a spandex suit and calls himself Nightwing. 

The first time, some creep had been trailing you from a distance. Thankfully, most of the businesses on the way back to your apartment stayed open later, the nice apartments have doormen so you could run into one at a moment's notice. But as soon as you noticed the weight of a gaze on your back it vanished with a short scuffle. When you turned to find the source of noise, Nightwing stood guard as the creep spirited away.

From that night on, if you got off after midnight, he was there to escort you home. 

The first few times he followed from a distance. A couple yards, then ten feet and then one night you waited for him to walk beside you like a normal person. Most nights you were too exhausted to make conversation but he kept you both entertained, asking easy questions or staying silent if you were particularly irritated. But usually, on those nights you felt his eyes on you from one of the alleys you passed, or from the rooftops. He gave you space but kept you safe. Even when you insisted there were far better things for him to do in a city that never sleeped. People who needed him more. But Nightwing shook you off each time.

“This storm came out of nowhere,” you say, huddling closer. He’s big, taking up most of the space by default. You try not to touch him but the heat of his body is pleasant considering your soaked clothes, chilled straight to the bone.

“Yeah, downtown is already flooded.”

“Already walked all the other girls home there?”

“Ha-ha,” he huffs. “I actually work in an office there.”

Oh. In all the nights he’s chaperoned you home, he’s been careful not to reveal too much about himself but some things naturally slip out. He wants a dog but is never home enough to take care of it. One of his friends burnt a fish in his apartment and wasn’t allowed to come back. He tried reading some of the books you talked about but wasn’t a big reader. This is the first time he’s offered information so personal.

“So even superheroes have day jobs?”

“Gotta pay rent somehow.”

“Maybe take up being a security guard. Or Uber but walking women home late at night.”

“Nah,” he smiles, a flash of white teeth between pink lips. “I do that for free. Part of the job.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Sometimes you think maybe he likes walking with you. But as he said, it’s a part of his job. His civic responsibilities to protect the street from creeps and weirdos. Besides, the only other personal information you know about him is the fat crush he has on the girl in the apartment next to him.

“How's your neighbor?” you ask.

“She’s okay. Still acts like I don’t exist.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

“You said she’d like it if I gave her something I cooked, I did.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

“Damn.”

You think of your own neighbor and how grateful you are that he does something similar. Mingyu was overall, a great neighbor. Grabbed your packages from the mailroom and left them on your doormat when he could, shared food if he made too much which was frequently, and managed to keep his rowdy friends quiet when they were over. But you typically only spoke to him in passing. Strictly neighborly. How are you? They didn’t pick up the trash today? Can I borrow some salt? By the way, I made an entire pot of spaghetti and I cannot eat it alone. Want some?

Recently he offered more and more. A blessing really because by the time you got off work you were too exhausted to cook and too broke to justify paying for the fees for delivery. Everytime he offered you food though you weren’t sure what to do with the tupperware. He was rarely home when you were; conflicting schedules. Last time he brought you the extra brownies from his office party. The tote bag full of clean containers sat next to your door for whenever you saw him but lately he’d been MIA. 

Maybe Nightwing’s neighbor felt the same way. If he had a job and ran around town at all hours it was unlikely there was a good time for them to talk.

“Have you tried asking her out?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Your shoulder brushes his arm but you ignore the contact. Not like you can feel much with the numbness from the freezing rain.

“No luck.”

“Maybe she’s shy.”

He levels you with a look meaning that clearly isn’t the problem. For a second you wonder what he looks like without the mask. The tiny scrap of blue, black, and white obscuring so much. Obviously, he’s handsome. Maybe she’s a little intimidated. You would be. Even if his neighbor didn’t know who he really was, he had an aura around him. 

And even if he wore baggy clothes, they wouldn’t hide his physique or height.

But you can’t dwell on those thoughts because then you think of your neighbor who is also tall and muscular, and somehow reminds you of a golden retriever.

“Well, you seem normal enough. Even though you wear a weird amount of spandex for a grown man.”

He laughs, the edges of the umbrella shaking with him and exposing you back to the elements but you don’t mind. The sound is rich and warm, forcing the chill away. “What is a normal amount of spandex?”

“Probably zero,” you joke. “Maybe you should just ask her out. Honesty is the best policy or whatever.”

“Or whatever. I’ll remember that.”

“Well,” you sigh. The front of your apartment is in view. Nightwing will wait until you’re inside to leave, tucked safely behind the glass door and up the stairs out of sight. He hands you the umbrella for the last fifteen feet he always refuses to accompany you, and disappears out of sight.

You don’t tell anyone who walks you home at night. It’s a nice little secret between you and the city’s hero. But sometimes you wished you could. If only to explain how confusing it is that Nightwing reminds you of Mingyu. A bizarre thought. Mingyu is an architect and hardly has the time for a pet, let alone to save the city every night. You leave the thought at the threshold of the stairwell.

The trek upstairs takes longer than you’d like. Five flights of stairs down is a lot easier than five flights up and with your limbs just now warming up, it's a process to rally enough energy to climb even the first few. Good thing is with it being so late, you aren’t at risk of holding up a line to the top. 

By the time you reach the third floor, the sensation returns to your extremities. By the fifth, the only thought in your head is a shower and the cozy warmth of your bed. 

As you reach the final steps, shuffling like a zombie, the universe decides your night isn’t over yet.

Your neighbor, hair washed from a shower, white shirt and pajama pants wrapped around his figure, emerges from the opposite staircase, where the trash chute is. Maybe you have a crush on Mingyu but half the building does too. He’s a good neighbor, he’s nice, and he’s handsome. 

Okay, maybe it’s a big crush and you can’t figure out if he’s just nice or if all the nice things he does mean a little bit more. You should probably ask Nightwing what he thinks the next time he walks you home. He’s a guy, he’d know.

But right now, Mingyu gets to see your best impression of a drowned rat.

Lovely.

“Hey,” he says. His door is at the top of the stairs you just climbed, and yours at the top of the stairs he just climbed. When you pass by, you can’t help but get a whiff of his body wash. Cedar, citrus, and soap mingling pleasantly. 

You grunt in response. “Hey, Mingyu.”

“Late night?”

“Something like that.”

You both stand in the hallway, waiting for something else to say but nothing comes up. Somewhere below a door slams and the patter of feet echoes through the stairwell.

Mingyu turns away first. “Well, good night.”

“Wait!” you call, cringing at the harsh reverb of your voice.

He whips around, eyes wide, cheeks rosy. Like a little kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar.

“I have your containers! I’ve been meaning to give them back.”

“Oh.” He deflates slightly but you pay no mind. 

You shove the metal of your apartment door open and rummage through your kitchen for the tote full of plastic containers. When you exit, Mingyu is waiting on your doormat, hands in his pockets.

Racking your brain for something – anything – to say, you blurt. “Um, the brownies you made were great.”

That pleases him. Behind the thick rim of his glasses his eyes soften, cheeks lifting from a shy smile. “Thanks. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“That’s nice.”

Neither of you move. Content rather than awkward. At your back, the rain pounds against the windows, thunder clapping, an occasional streak of lighting. A dull lullaby.

“Hey,” he starts. “Would you ever wanna hangout? Like a date?”

You couldn’t have heard that right. 

“A date?” you parrot.

“Or not! It doesn’t have to be a date if you’re not interested or…”

“A date sounds nice,” you grin, cheeks bursting. “What are you doing in thirty minutes?”

“Watching Survivor.”

“I’ll bring the popcorn. I just need to shower really quick.”

Mingyu blinks like he can’t believe any of it. Like you agreeing to hangout with him was never an actual option or that this entire thing is a fever dream. It’s cute. 

“Ugh—” he swallows. “Yeah! Okay. Just…knock wherever!”

Tucked away in the steam of the shower, you scrub and shave and scrub again. Feeling a little more human with each minute. You don’t bother with make up or anything fancy. Mingyu asked you out with mascara running down your cheeks in the hideous shirt the bar makes you wear. The bar is incredibly low. 

Settling on some sweats and a hoodie, you make the trip down the hall to 6F and knock just like Mingyu said. You sit a safe distance away on the couch but like two magnets you and Mingyu draw closer and closer until his arm is over your shoulder with a pretend stretch and you’re nodding off against his chest.

At some point, you both move to his bed. Or Mingyu asks and carries you across his apartment when you nod. His bed sounds like a great idea. The storm clears by the time you wake up. The first thing you do when Mingyu blinks awake, arm curled around your back like you considered leaving, is leave a gentle kiss on his jaw. 

You give him a better one as a thank you for coffee, and another when he makes pancakes. He lifts you onto the counter, taking place between your knees as thanks for the perfect whip cream smiley face decorating said pancakes. 

Next time you see your spandex clad friend, you’ll have to let him know honesty really is the best policy.

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[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Milk Aisle - Lando Norris

<word count - 7191> |part 1 - Nerd|part 2 - Rumours|part 3 - So Special|part 4 - Something Else|

Lando resented you. He absolutely hated your guts. You had completely ruined him. He was miserable, wholly miserable. He spent the coming days sulking in bed, even skipping school on the Friday by telling his mum that he was sick.

Despite never really enjoying school, Lando wasn't one to ask to have a day off randomly. So, she let him, just this once. She knew it was something to do with you, but Lando never specified. A small part of him didn't want his mum or family disliking you, but he couldn't fathom why. 

Maybe it was because he still longed for you with every fibre of his being, but that was just a hunch. 

He didn't bother doing any of the catch-up work that he had missed, it didn't feel worth it to him. His mum had to talk him into going into school on Monday after a weekend of moping and sitting with his mind that was shrouded with the fog of his hatred for you. 

His mum drove him to school, and he went to stand by the lockers until the bell had gone for first lesson. His friends had texted to ask why he hadn't turned up to the track on Saturday, or to the park for football on Sunday, but he had left them all on read. 

It was weird to see them concerned for him, since they were so prone to taking the piss out of him. He appreciated it, but he didn't want to talk. Meanwhile, you had also spent your weekend in a stupor of sadness. 

You definitely regretted it in some capacity, but you were glad not to hear a word from anyone when you walked into school on Monday morning. You were still avoiding Lilly like the plague she was, but no one made any move to piss you off. 

Later in the day, you took yourself over to DT, where you knew Lando would be. You hadn't seen him all day, and you weren't sure if you wanted to or not. The guilt would eat you alive if you saw him. Well, if he was sad. 

For all you knew, he could have been going about his day acting as if everything was fine and he wasn't so hurt by the way that things had ended between you. But then you caught yourself as your inner monologue ran rampant. 

Things had ended? That made it sound like you were in caring, loving relationship. Your friendship was very caring, since the both of you were very considerate of how the other felt. Loving? That was a whole other matter to consider.

Neither of you knew what love in a romantic capacity meant, but whatever you felt for Lando was the closest thing you had ever had to it. He wasn't there when you walked in, which was slightly relieving. 

You sat at your bench, opening the cupboard underneath the desk to see everyone's work who sat at that desk throughout the week. And there was the piece that Lando had made as part of the bet that had started all of this. 

He still owed you a week of woodwork, and you still owed him a few maths homeworks, but you had given up on it, just like you had given up on Lando. The bell went that signalled that everyone should be in lesson, and Lando still wasn't there.

Your teacher took the register, but just as he reached Lando's name, the door swung open as he skulked into the room. He didn't look at you, or anyone else for that matter as he took his seat at his bench. 

"You're late, Lando," your teacher said, and Lando just sat there and looked at him. "Why?" he asked, and Lando's eyes darted around the room for a second, as if coming up with a reason why he was late. 

"I was with Miss Kennedy," he said, and everyone knew it was a lie. Miss Kennedy was your maths teacher, and you knew he wasn't with her because you had seen her go into the maths room and Lando sure as hell hadn't gone in too.

It seemed your DT teacher also knew that it was bullshit, but he decided not to press the matter any further. Once the register was done, he explain what you'd be doing today. You hoped you'd be doing 3D modelling on the computers or 3D printing - or at least something that didn't require too much technicality. 

But no, it was your absolute favourite thing to be doing. Woodwork. You had to stifle an audible groan while he went through what you'd be doing. The task itself was relatively simple, but that didn't mean you wanted to do it.

Your assignment for the next two lessons was simple: you had to make a storage box. A simple box with some sort of opening and slots for any types of items that you wanted in it. You didn't have long to design it, you just had to come up with some measurements, grab the supplies from the store cupboard once it was authorised and go for it. 

In the end, you quickly made a rough sketch of your flashcard holder. It was something you'd actually use, and you would actually try since it would be going on your desk and you'd have to look at it every day. 

You planned out 11 compartments, one for each of your subjects and went to the storage cupboard to get your supplies. For this lesson, you had your sheets of wood and the hinges in case you actually got onto finishing the lid of the box. 

Despite your hatred of the subject, you had to admit that you were quite good at it. It was probably the perfectionist in you, wanting to make everything exactly to size and make your stuff look professional, even if you had never made anything quite as perfect as what Lando and his dad had made you. 

Lando just sat at his bench, unmoving. While everyone else had pretty much finished sketching and had gathered supplies, he hadn't even put pencil to paper. Your teacher knew something was up. Lando and your DT teacher were like you and your maths teacher - as close as it was appropriate for a teacher and student to be.

Lando was the best at DT, so he liked him. So, to see him not even bothering to try made him worry. He wasn't going to push Lando, but he also didn't want anyone else to see him just sitting around and think they could also slack off or that he was playing clear favourites.

"Lando can you please at least sketch something? And then we can make it another day," he gently encouraged, and Lando didn't want to take his bad mood out on his teacher, it wasn't his fault. It was yours. 

Lando mindlessly sketched shapes on his paper before deciding on what he wanted to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but spot you putting your hair up and pulling your apron on over your head. 

Goddamnit, why did you have to be so captivating to him? He was supposed to hate you for what you did, but why couldn't he? His eyes were superglued to you as you moved, marking out the measurements on your bits of wood. 

Trying to focus on the paper in front of him, Lando was finding it harder and harder to keep himself away from you. Plus, the way you were cutting your wood was far from safe. Your fingers were way too close to the saw blade, and he wasn't liking the way you were doing it. 

You were quick with the chopping so that you could make the cut as clean as possible, and you had neglected to notice the placement of your fingers. Every back and forth motion seemed to bring your fingers a centimetre closer to the blade, and he was internally cringing.  

He might not have liked you, but he couldn't watch you hurt yourself and just stand by and do nothing. Getting up from his seat, he approached your bench. "Hey, Y/N, don't chop it like that, you'll hurt yourself-" he started, but he was a few seconds too late. 

The hand that was sawing got caught, the teeth snagging in the wood. This caused your hand to slip, tilting the blade while still sawing. "Ow, fuck!" you yelped, dropping the saw with a clatter and clutching onto your fingers while droplets of crimson dripped down the side of your hand. 

Lando dragged you over to the sink in the corner of the room, turning on the tap and sticking your hand under the running water. "Stay there," he told you, darting to the other side of the room to get the first aid kit off of your teacher's desk. 

By the time he had gotten back, your teacher was inspecting your hand as red continued to gush out and you cried out in pain. It wasn't even that it hurt that much since the adrenaline was running, it was more the sight of the amount of blood. 

Everyone was looking at you, some people shielding their eyes from the sight of the blood trickling down onto the floor. Your teacher had his hands clamped over the injured fingers, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. 

"Lando, can you get the cotton wool out of the kit please?" he asked, and Lando was quick to pop it open and rummage through all of the different items. He found the big pack of cotton wool, pulling some out and passing it to your teacher.

He held it over the wounds across your digits, still trying to stop the bleeding. Lando felt like a bit of an idiot, just standing there and watching as more and more tears trickled down your face as the pain appeared to set in. 

He had seen you crying more than he had seen you smiling as of recent, and it broke him. He couldn't even put a hand on your back to soothe you, or hold your other hand in support. All he could do was watch. 

He didn't want to risk you pushing him away, not again. Lando at least let himself pull out a tissue from the first aid box and offered it to you. You took it with a small smile and a whispered thank you, the feeling of your fingers brushing together sending jolts of electricity through both of you.

Dabbing at the tears on your cheeks, your teacher asked Lando for the alcohol wipes from the box. "This is probably going to hurt, but I need you to just bear through the pain, OK?" your teacher said, and you held your breath in anticipation. 

Pressing the wipe to your sliced fingers, the pointed sting instantly seeped into the wound. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, your face scrunching up in agony. Without thinking, you grabbed Lando's hand and squeezed it for dear life, just to take your mind off the soreness.

There was no way in hell that he was pulling his hand away from you, instead he was glad that he could offer some semblance of support for you when you needed him. He could see that your hand was shaking as your teacher wiped the red off of your fingers, droplets still sliding down your hand. 

"Y/N, I think you need to go to the nurses office, OK? I'm going to have Lando take you," he told you, and you nodded. "Hold this on your fingers," he told you, pressing more cotton wool over the open wounds. 

Swapping to hold your hand with his free hand, Lando placed his other hand on your elbow in case he needed to quickly grab onto you. If you were going to pass out, you probably would have by now, but he didn't want to take that chance. 

No words were exchanged as you walked down the corridors, and you were focused on ignoring the pain and keeping the cotton wool clamped down on your fingers. Lando wanted to talk to you, to tell you that you were going to be okay, but he didn't want to overstep his bounds. 

And he was repeatedly reminding himself that he is supposed to hate you, not want to make you feel better. He was meant to enjoy your pain for some sadistic reason, but he felt that the mental justification of that didn't really align with any form of moral values. 

Eventually, the two of you arrived at the nurse's office, and Lando took his hand away from your elbow to knock on the door. You heard a muffled 'Come in!' from the other side of the heavy wooden door, and Lando opened it to usher you inside. 

He stepped in behind you, taking a firm grasp of your hand again. The nurse looked between the two of you, her eyes landing on the hand that you were covering with the cotton wool as she looked at the redness still partially dribbling from it. 

She was waiting for your explanation, but when you didn't offer one, Lando piped up. "She sliced her fingers on one of the tenon saws in the workshop, we haven't seen how deep they are but there's a lot of blood. She's still got all of her fingers, we don't need any sewing back on," he said, his attempt at making a joke falling flat. 

"OK, sit down, dear," the older lady told you, patting the bed in the corner of the room. Lando led you over, helping you shuffle on without the aid of your own hands. "You can go back to class now, love. Thank you for bringing her," she said to Lando as he kept hold of your hand for a few more moment. 

After offering you a final squeeze of reassurance, Lando released his grip and took a step back. Just as he reached the door, he heard your voice. "Lando?" you said, his name sounding heavenly coming from you. Your voice was rough from crying, and something about it worked for him. "Thank you," you said. 

"No problem," he nodded, taking himself out of the room and slowly walking back to the workshop. Once he got back, your teacher went up to him. 

"Is she OK?" he asked, and Lando just shrugged.

"I don't know, the nurse sent me away before she looked at her hand," he explained.

"Did you see what happened?"

"She was sawing through one of the pieces of wood for her container and her fingers were way too close to the blade. Her hand slipped and the blade caught her fingers," he told him, your teacher sighing.

"OK, thanks Lando," he said, walking off to observe the other students in the class. Glancing over at your desk, Lando saw the nearly chopped pieces of wood that you were doing, and something in him was compelling him to go over and finish it for you. 

He didn't want to, since he didn't want to be doing you anymore favours. But he also couldn't just leave it sat there, barely started. With a huff and hurling internal insults about himself for being weak, he took himself over to your desk. 

Your saw blade had blood on it, and he sure as hell wasn't using that. Your teacher spotted it and took it away for sanitation, leaving Lando to get another one from the tool cupboard. The bit of wood that you had been cutting was completely wrong after your hand slipped, a full slice through the surface.

He looked at your sketches and redrew out the dimensions on a different piece of wood, before taking it over to the bandsaw to cut it quicker. He didn't know why you didn't opt for that instead of the hand held method, but he was glad you hadn't. You definitely wouldn't have had fingers if you had slipped with that machine. 

Lando was quick with cutting the pieces up, getting ready to sand the edges and glue them together. He also saw the small tin of white paint on the desk, now seeing the full picture of your final creation. 

From a distance, your teacher saw Lando redoing your project for you and smiled to himself. He knew that Lando had made your previous work that you had turned in, it was obvious. There was no one with the precision or meticulousness like Lando, and it was clear who had done the work.

He found it admirable that the young man had put so much time and effort into the things for you, so much so that he couldn't even be mad. He watched as Lando picked up your pencil and made some amendments to the designs, as well as adding in some extra stuff that he knew would make it even better. 

In the meantime, you were still sat in the stuffy nurses office. The bleeding had slowed down, and the cuts on your fingers were deep, but not so bad. They may leave faint scars, though. "Is that young man your boyfriend?" she asked, and you knew she was just looking for something cool to tell the other teachers in the staff room later. 

"No, no. We're... friends." you said, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. It was all your doing, and maybe if you hadn't pushed him away, you could have been saying that he was your boyfriend. 

"Ah, 'friends'," she teased as she cleaned up the dried blood from around the wounds. You didn't respond, you just let her wrap each finger in some soft bandages. "Keep these on for a couple weeks, if they come off you can come back and I'll refresh them, OK?"

"OK, thank you," you nodded, taking yourself back to class with only a few minutes left of the lesson. As you walked in, you saw Lando at your bench, painting the pieces that he had recut for you. 

"I was... erm... sir did this... I was just painting them..." he stuttered, and your teacher smirked from behind him. 

"No, no I didn't. Lando did the whole thing," he chuckled, watching as his face turned red. 

"Thanks Lando," you smiled, admiring what he was doing. Every piece looked like absolute perfection, and he was even taking such precise care in the brush strokes he was using for it. 

"Anytime," he mumbled, putting the wet pieces on the window sill and going over to his own desk again. He didn't think you'd come back from the nurse's office before the end of the lesson, so to see you walk in before was nothing short of embarrassing. 

He didn't want you to think that everything was fine, and he was still pining after you. He didn't want you to know how much he still wanted you, and how much he always would. Yet here he was, doing your work for you when you had hurt yourself. Helping you when you had hurt yourself. 

Lando felt like an idiot. A big, lovesick idiot who didn't know what else to do but chase after the one girl he had ever had feelings for. He was desperate for the the bell to go so that he could leave, so that he could get away from you.   

It had dawned on him that he'd have to see you in maths, but he would be taking himself off to his reinstated desk in the back of the class, not the front row slot that he had once been so happy about having. 

Miss Kennedy had noticed his move, but she didn't say anything. She had noticed that the quality of his homework had slipped, and the next test that you had wasn't boding well. Whenever she walked around class when you were all working, she noticed that he barely got past the first few questions. 

She was hoping that his sudden brilliance wasn't just a short term thing, but she couldn't be too sure. Lando knew that you'd be there first, so he took it upon himself to be late yet again. He went to sit on the back row, not even paying attention to the new stuff you were being taught. 

Once you had been set off doing more practice questions, Miss Kennedy made her way to the back of the class. "Lando, can I have a really quick word with you after class?" she asked, and it wasn't like Lando could exactly say no. 

He thought he was going to get told off for the sudden deterioration in the quality of his work, but he wasn't in the head space to care. "Yeah," he nodded, going back to pretending to do the questions that were on the whiteboard. 

Everytime he looked up, he saw you firing through the maths as you always did. He didn't like seeing your bandaged hand, knowing that he could have stopped it if he had been quicker with telling you. 

Deep down, he knew it wasn't his fault, but he still didn't like knowing that he could have prevented it if he wasn't so caught up in his own head. You were just resting it on the table, since it was painful to do anything else with it at this moment in time. 

You were just working through the maths to try and take your mind off of your hand and Lando. It hurt, that was a given, but seeing Lando so miserable hurt a hell of a lot more. In many ways, you wished that he was just going about his day like normal, just so that you could confirm the theory that he never really cared. 

Yet, seeing him so miserable almost proved the opposite. He had to have cared to some degree, and it made you hate yourself even more for what you had done. He had even been doing your DT for you, again. He had made them perfect for you like ha always did. 

Although it felt cruel to go to him and say that you wanted to forget what you had said to him and just go back to being his friend again. It felt a little too far gone for that, and it was your fault. Completely your fault. 

Miss Kennedy went through the answers to the questions, before telling you all to make sure that you revised for your test. She let you go on the bell, but you took extra time to pack up since you pretty much only had one hand. 

It was a struggle, and Lando wanted so desperately to go over to you and help, but he stood his ground and waited at the back of the class. The tension in the air was thick, and it felt like the walls were closing in on you as you felt Lando's eyes on you from the back of class. 

Miss Kennedy was also watching, and you kept dropping things in your rush to leave the stuffy room. Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you bolted out of the room and into the flurry of students in the corridor. 

As you left, Miss Kennedy closed the door behind her, closing herself and Lando off from the rest of the school. "What's going on with you, Lando?" she softly asked, leaning against the door.

"Nothing." he curtly answered, itching to leave the room so that she wouldn't ask more questions.

"Your work in class is slipping, your homework is going downhill, and I can nearly guarantee that you're not going to smash tomorrow's test like you have been doing recently. What's gone on?" she pressed, and Lando was trying to come up with a lie on the spot. 

"Just stuff at home..." he mumbled, suddenly panicking that they may call his parents to ask what was happening and that it was effecting their son. Miss Kennedy stayed quiet, as if still pushing him to say something. 

"It's just stuff with Y/N, nothing major." he said, leaving his confession there. 

"Trouble in paradise?"

"If that's what you want to call it," he scoffed, knowing that things between the two of you were never paradise. You were always nearly there. You teetered on the precipice of happily ever after and a sick sense of doomsday. Yet, doomsday had gone from being close at hand to his every day state of mind.

"She's good for you, Lando. You do miles better when she's sat with you, and she actually talks to the people around her when you're there." Miss Kennedy told him, and it was hardly like he didn't know it already.

But, hearing it from someone else and out loud instead of in his own head, it somehow hurt more. It was like he was being forced to accept that you were better together than you were apart, and it was like tearing open the already shakily sewn together wound. 

"Yeah well, apparently I'm not good for her," he sighed, keeping his head down and walking out of the door. There was no use in Miss Kennedy stopping him, since she knew that was the best she was going to pull from him.

If Lando didn't want help, then he wouldn't let himself be helped. It was as simple as that. 

But, as he walked to his lockers with his eyes focused on his feet, he heard voices. He felt a strange sense of deja vu creeping up on him. He knew Lilly was there, and he wasn't putting any money on who she was talking to.

"See? The second you gave him even a shred of hassle, he was out of there. Do I get an apology now?" she said, and he could see the sneer on her face in his mind.

"No, Lilly. You get no apology. You don't deserve an apology. You don't deserve anything." you said, your voice giving nothing away. If Lando wasn't so annoyed at you, he would have found your stubbornness impressive. 

"But I was right, wasn't I? You're left being all by yourself, and now the smartest girl has been labelled at the dumbest for ever thinking she had a shot with Lando Norris." she continued to tease, and Lando couldn't tell if you were on the verge of tears or slapping her. 

He had said the exact same thing to you, but it sounded so much worse when she said it. He didn't mean it, not anymore. He may have in the moment, but he didn't believe it for a second now. And he knew Lilly did.

"Lilly, what has to happen for you to realise that you're going to walk out of these doors and be nothing. Everyone will remember you as the bitch who had nothing better to do than put other down because she wanted to make herself feel better." you started, and Lilly's eyes flashed with something unrecognisable. Hurt? No. 

"Oh please, I'm the-"

"No, I'm not done. When it comes to our highschool reunion, one day in the future, you're going to be nothing. Maisie might be doing music, since I'm sure you're awfully jealous of the fact that her talent is beyond anything you could ever have. I'll have gotten the best damned grades I can get and I'll be working some badass job just like I'm meant to."

"And guess what, you're not going to like this one. Lando will be with someone who isn't you. Because he doesn't like you. He'll never like you. No one will ever like you. No one here does, and no one will if you keep on destroying other people just to make you loathe yourself a little less." you finished, closing your locker and walking away from her. 

For once, you had rendered Lilly completely speechless. Lando stood still out of sight in the silence, unable to ignore the slight sense of pride that he was feeling for you. He walked past her to his own locker, and he was waiting for her to say something. 

"Erm... Lando?" she started, and he had never seen her so timid. This felt like the most genuine version of Lilly that he had ever seen, but he wasn't going to trust it. "Would you... maybe want to grab a coffee with me or something on the weekend?" she asked, and he had to use a lot of willpower to not just laugh in her face.

"Take the hint and fuck off, Lilly." he said, retrieving everything out of his locker and walking away. He had rejected girls before, and he had always felt bad about it. This time, he felt nothing but some weird sense of joy.

He liked being the one in control of situations with Lilly, because it gave her a taste of her own medicine. But he'd rather have you back. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd rather have you back. The satisfaction of going that to Lilly was incomparable to the joy he got when he was with you.

All he could hope was that she was now going to just leave him alone so that he could carry on with his life. Without Lilly, without you, just how it was those few fateful weeks ago. 

It was weird how everything had gone down over the past few weeks. He had gone from not talking to you ever, to talking to you all the time, to not, to being back at it, then practically strangers. 

Two people whose paths crossed momentarily that were now leading away from each other again. He couldn't quite tell whether he preferred his life before or after, the more he thought about it.

He had been happy before, without a care in the world. He was floating off the ground as he let the breeze of his youth carry him through life. Yet, with you, he was flying . He was soaring in the clear blue skies without  a cloud in sight. But now, it seemed like there was a permanent blanket of clouds hiding away the sun.

----

The following Saturday, your mum had dragged you out of the house to go on the weekly shop with her. You hadn't been shopping with her since you were at least ten, but she wasn't taking no for an answer today. 

All you had to do was watch as she checked her shopping list and navigated the aisles to find what she needed for this week. It was one of the most dull things you had done in a long time, and you would've done anything to be at home. Or anywhere else. 

You were snapped out of your daydreaming about more exciting activities when you heard your mum scoff to herself. You watched as her eyebrows knitted in slight frustration. "Love?" she asked, looking over at you. 

"Yeah?"

"Could you run to the bread aisle? I've accidentally picked up brioche rolls." she asked, and you just took the rolls out of the trolley and tried to find your way back to the bread aisle. You look at the signs over your head, eventually finding it, of course, at the very end of the supermarket. 

Putting the rolls back on the shelf and looking for the ones you normally got, you could've sworn you saw a familiar flash out of the corner of your eye. Curly brown locks- no, no it can't have been. Lando's family were millionaires, they shopped at Waitrose. Not Tesco.

Anyway, shoving that thought to the back of your mind, you collected the right bread rolls and went to track down your mum, wherever she was. You heard her talking to someone as you approached the dairy section, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. You were going to be stuck here for a long time. 

But, when you turned the corner, you nearly froze. Lando's mum. Your mum. Lando. All three of them were stood there, in conversation. Well, Lando wasn't talking, but your mothers sure as hell were.

Dropping the rolls into the trolley, Lando avoided your gaze. You hoped you wouldn't have to chip into the discussion, but your mum soon ruined those hopes. "Y/N, you didn't tell me you knew Lando," she chirped, and you saw the glint in both Lando's and his mum's eyes. 

You all knew what was going on, but you had to play along with the charade anyway. "You didn't tell me you knew Lando," you countered, sending daggers towards your mum.

"We met at parents evening, I just never knew the two of you knew each other," she responded, and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. Before you got another word in, your mum piped up again. "Why don't you two go and get yourselves a table in the cafe and a hot chocolate or something?" she suggested, and none of you could come up with a reason as to why it wouldn't be a good idea.

You just sighed and started making your way over to the in-store cafe. You didn't check to see if Lando was following, since you had to come up with something to talk to him about. Or you could just sit there in silence until your mums finished shopping. 

Spotting a table in the corner, you sat down and Lando sat opposite you. You couldn't think of anything to say, something to strike up a conversation with. Lando felt the same, except for his feelings were a bit more obvious to him. 

He was annoyed, to say the least. Fate had brought you together, yet again - even when it knew that you kept on throwing your endless vaults of spanners into the works to break it all down again and again and again. 

As you fidgeted with your hands on the slightly sticky wooden table, Lando noticed the fresh looking bandages around the fingers that you had nearly sliced off. "So... how are your fingers?" he asked, and you tried to maintain eye contact as best you could and failed miserably. 

"Oh, they're doing OK. I had to go to the doctors to get them glued so that they could heal better, but they'll be OK. Scarred, but OK." you explained, and Lando felt a pang of something in his chest. You were perfect, far too perfect, and now you were going to be scarred because he wasn't quick enough to help you. 

But there it was again, that self blaming for something that truly wasn't his fault. He couldn't help be concerned, even if he kept telling himself over and over again that he hated you. He hated you for what you did to him, how his brain reacted to you. 

He hated the butterflies that fluttered to life in his stomach every time he saw you. He hated the electricity that sparked through his veins whenever the two of you made physical contact. He hated the way your smile would light up his world like the sun. 

Most of all, he hated the way he still wanted you. If you were willing to push it all aside and even just be his friend again, he'd take it. It was better than nothing. Having you as a friend was a hell of a lot better than not having you at all. 

"Well that's good," he nodded, desperate to bring up if you could be friends again. He would be your friend in secret if that's what it took. He could still drive you home, spend time with you on the weekends instead of in school.

"I'm getting a drink, you want one?" he asked, standing up from his seat and trying to read the menu from the distance you were at. He knew his mum would scold him if neither of you had a drink, or if he hadn't at least offered to get you one. 

"Could I have a hot chocolate, please?" you requested, and Lando headed off to the counter to order two hot chocolates. In an alternate universe, this was a date and he'd get to ask you to be his girlfriend after your little, impromptu hot chocolate. 

Shortly after, Lando returned with the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and placed yours in front of you. "Thank you," you smiled, and he could've sworn he felt his heart stop. That smile. That pretty goddamn smile. The smile he was meant to loathe but could never heartily do so. 

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, rifling around in your bag for your purse.

"Hey, no, we don't do that." he said, as if there was such thing as a 'we' in this situation. He saw the slight blush that coated your cheeks, and he couldn't help but revel in it. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and love you. 

Sitting down, he was suddenly absolutely itching to just tell you everything. How much he was willing to do to get you back. "Look, I really-" he started, before he was interrupted by your mums getting back with their trolleys of shopping. 

He was going to tell you how much he missed you and how much he wanted to be your friend again, but of course your mothers just had to return at the exact wrong time. Or maybe the right time so that he didn't have to make a complete fool of himself. 

Your mum went to get coffees for the two of them, and Lando's mum was quick to strike up conversation. "Y/N, Lando told me about your hand. Really nasty accident, huh?" 

"It was, yeah. If Lando hadn't helped, I probably would've panicked and passed out," you chuckled, seeing the small flicker of shock on Lando's face. He was just doing what he thought anyone would do in that situation, and he hadn't realised how much you had appreciated his presence. 

"He just told me he got the first aid kit," she said, now guessing that Lando hadn't told her the whole story. He had gotten the part right about your sawing method to be flawed at best, and that he had given your teacher cotton wool, but the rest was missed out.  

"Oh no, he took me right to the sink, held my fingers under the water, held my hand, took me to the nurses office. He even carried on my project for me." you told her, and the pride she felt for her son was unmistakable. 

She knew he was smitten for you already, but it was nice to hear that he was still completely head over heels, even if you two weren't on the best terms right now. She was glad that she had raised him to be so thoughtful in such a situation. 

"Well, I'm glad he acted fast," she smiled as your mum returned with the coffees for the both of them. They got lost in conversation, leaving the two of you to just sit there and listen to them gossip for a while. 

"C'mon, we're going for a walk," he said, slipping off of his chair and waiting for you by the table to join him. Neither of your mums paid much notice to your departure, so the both of you just started wandering around the supermarket. 

Once you were out of earshot of your parents, Lando spoke. "Look, I really miss you, OK? I keep telling myself that I should just forget about you and move on, I can't. You were one of my closest friends and I can't keep going on pretending like we never were close." he blurted out, and you just looked at him.

You couldn't decide if you were happy with what he was saying, or upset. You were happy because it just meant he felt the same way that you did, that he missed you like you missed him. 

On the other hand, you felt so guilty. So guilty for throwing what you had away for the sake of bullies. But in the moment, that felt like the best course of action for your mental health and your sanity. 

"Please, just... be my friend again? We don't even have to talk in school, just out of school. Just so that I can still at least talk to you." he said, his eyes pleading with you to just cave and let him back into your life. "I miss you..." he repeated, and you could tell that there was more to it than what he was saying.

You knew that there was not a single teenage boy on planet earth that would be this desperate to get a girl who was just a friend back, but you couldn't say you were complaining. "Lando..." you whispered. 

Just hearing his name on your lips was enough to send him into meltdown. Yet, he couldn't tell by your tone whether the next thing you were going to say was good or bad. "I'm sorry." you said, and he was still confused. 

Were you apologising because of what you did, or because you couldn't take him back as your friend?

"I really want to be your friend again," you confessed, and he was waiting for the 'but' to come after your sentence, but he was left waiting for it. You saw a smile slowly spread across his lips, his eyes lighting up. 

"Really?" he asked, ready for you to finish off with something about how much of a bad idea all of this was.

"I miss you too. A lot." you told him, and he could practically hear his heart singing in glee. 

"Can I hug you?" he asked all too quickly. You nodded, and before you could get any words in, he wrapped his arms around you. It was so nice to have you back in his embrace, and you weren't even crying this time. 

He could've cried of joy, but he thought that that was a bit too far. He may have been a very considerate teenage boy, but he was still a teenage boy nonetheless.  "So are we friends all the time or just out of school?" he said, not showing any signs of letting go of you.

"Just out of school for now, I don't know if I can handle much more of the crap we get put through," you told him, and he was slightly disappointed. Not disappointed enough to say something and put everything in jeopardy, but disappointed enough to pull back and give you a small pout. 

"Don't give me that face," you playfully scolded, trying to shuffle out of his arms.

"What face? I don't know what you're talking about," he feigned innocence, tightening his grip around you so that you couldn't run away from him.

"Don't play dumb with me, Norris. You know what face," you pressed, and it just made his pout more prominent. 

"Nope, no idea," he laughed, tugging you back close to him. Resting his head on the top of yours, he basked in the feeling of your heart against his, being able to have you right where he wanted you. The setting of the milk aisle wasn't the most glamorous or romantic, but he didn't care. As long as he was with you. 

A/N - Merry Christmas again! Another one for you, part 5 of this series that I didn't think would do as well as it has, but hey. I am not complaining. Love y'all 💖

tag list: @dying-inside-but-its-classy @formula1mount @sltwins @mariedeyes223 @sarah-thatstings-ann @solo2leo @arian-directioner @wisestarfishbouquet @qweerasdfg-blog

|masterlist|

[olderthannetfic]

Ayyy, there seems to be a lot of older people among the regular commenters of this blog so I'm gonna shoot my shot and ask for advice.

Idk if it's just the clinical depression but I can't help but feel like I'm never gonna find love as a straight girl. I don't hate men at all -- I've been very lucky to be surrounded by decent dudes growing up but shit. Lookin at the state of the world rn... Gen Z dudes chugging misogynist bullshit at alarming rates, women like Gisele Pelicot going through unspeakable shit from their own husbands... it's hard not to feel cynical. On top of that the decent dudes I know irl are all taken, I don't wanna go on dating apps, and as much as I wanna fuck an older man no decent one is gonna settle for a depressed young woman who's a 4 at best...

It's not that i don't have fulfilling friendships or that I don't value them, I just want to love and care for (and get dicked down by) a decent guy who feels the same way. I've always wanted that and I don't think it's changing anytime soon. Feels impossible though. I'm not sure if I'm the problem (I'm plain faced at best, no fashion sense or charm to speak of, though I do my best to be polite and kind) or there's just shit going on I've no control over.

--

People will give you a lot of placating nonsense, but the reality is that the supply of reasonably okay straight women is much higher than the supply of reasonably okay straight men. Finding a fulfilling long-term relationship is always hard anyway, but man... straight guys really need to step it up.

That said, a lot of people in general and straight guys in particular learn a lot from the breakdown of their first marriage/long-term relationship. Just because a guy is listening to godawful manosphere podcasts today doesn't mean he's never going to be dateable later.

Research on dating apps suggests that your average guy responds to pics where women have a lot of makeup on by looking for a hookup, passes by the ones with no makeup, and finds the ones with a little lipstick or something but not heavy makeup the most dateable.

While it would be nice if appearance didn't matter, if you're really worried about this, there are some basic things you can do where you'll get a lot of bang for your buck: Find one lipstick you can stand and learn to apply it. I like Bésame Cosmetics because I am a nerd and they sponsored a local film noir festival. Peggy Carter's lipstick was from them. They have the advantage of being intensely pigmented, so a quick swipe gives full coverage. I hate having shit on my face in general, so that's helpful. If eye stuff is less bleurgghhhh than lip stuff, learn to apply eyeliner instead. There are some liquid ones I really like even if it takes some practice to get decent at painting them on. You don't need a full face of makeup or really much of anything to read as Hot Girl™ to people who don't know anything about makeup and aren't paying much attention. Yes, even if you're a 4 and it's not just the depression talking.

Charm is hard. Some things can be taught, but a lot of that's innate. Fashion, however, is not. You don't need to be a fashionista to look better than a lot of the people around you. Save your money for fewer, better outfits. Buy things that fit well and get things tailored. Don't settle for ill-fitting clothes that don't make you feel good. Look for natural fibers and clothing that will last a long time. (And if you think you have sensitive skin that cannot handle natural fibers, you need to go up several price points on your cotton. Just saying.)

You can also increase your chances by doing activities where you meet more people who might be a good match. This means finding hobbies that actually have straight guys in them and going to in-person things where you meet new people. (This sounds obvious and pedantic, but I cannot tell you how many women I know who want a boyfriend but only do social things that are 95% women and 5% gay men.)

But the biggest thing you can do to stand out is... well... work on that depression. Self confidence and obviously being in a good place in your life are very attractive. Also, the good catches who haven't been snapped up tend to be the quiet, shy people. If you have your own shit together enough to detect and pursue them, you have a better chance of finding someone great.

I get that ~fix your depression~ is not helpful advice, but working on yourself in both important and relatively superficial ways is something you can control. Meeting the right person is not.

It might help to look at this as a 5-10-year goal and/or a lifetime goal, not a "Oh my god, my life sucks this year" problem. Yes, there's shit going on that you have no control over, but if that's your career and mental health and so on, you can work on that and be in a different place in a few years.

Frankly, I think a certain amount of cynicism is warranted, but that doesn't mean there are no decent guys or that you'll never find one.

[maxdibert]

Well, I was going to be a minimally civilized person, but considering that you called me a TERF out of nowhere, when I haven’t mentioned anything related to gender issues, when I haven’t alluded to that topic at all, and you just pulled that out of thin air as a fallacious argument to try to discredit me from the very first paragraph—well, I’m going to be a bit of a bitch and choose violence.

First: idk what book this person read, but Snape's obsession with Lily was creepy to the extreme. That their friendship started by him all but stalking her and Petunia should have been red flag #1. I mean, sure, he was a traumatized kid without friends, but that doesn't absolve him of his continued obsession. He literally stood outside the Gryffindor common room, refusing to leave, until she came out to talk.

Are you saying that a nine-year-old boy watching other kids play is a creepy stalker? I suppose you, at eight or nine, would just jump right into groups of kids and start playing with them for no reason, but let me introduce you to the quintessential representation of an introverted child. Because yes, introverted kids exist, although to you, it seems all of them must be stalkers just because they don’t know how to introduce themselves to other kids and just stand there watching. That’s something normal for any introverted kid who wants to socialize but doesn’t know how.

Severus and Lily were friends, mutually so—not because he was following her around. Some of you really need to learn to deal with the canon of the books. They were friends before Hogwarts, and clearly, during their school years, the relationship weakened until it eventually ended. But during that time, there is absolutely no indication that Severus was following her around because it was a CONSENSUAL childhood friendship. Did he wait for her outside? Of course he did. I’m sorry your personal life is so pathetic that your friends always ignore you when you’ve had a disagreement, but in my circle, it’s quite common that when we argue, we even knock on each other’s doors if needed to talk it out and resolve it. So, I don’t know, girl—it seems like a pretty normal attitude to me, wanting to fix things after a fight. What doesn’t seem so normal to me is a guy coming up to me and saying that if I date him, he’ll stop bullying my friend, as James Potter did. Nor would it seem normal for a bunch of kids known for bullying and casting spells on others to have a magical GPS to track where everyone at school is going, like the Marauder's Map. That’s super stalker-ish and creepy as hell because you can see where everyone is and what they’re doing. But I guess in your psychotropic view of reality, that’s just some mega-fun thing, while a nine-year-old not knowing how to introduce himself to other kids is the devil reincarnated. Truly, you have a totally coherent and undistorted view of reality, honey.

And yeah, he did switch sides out of guilt. But he canonically didn't give a damn about Harry. If he was actually trying to protect the kid, he would have done more than bully and abuse (occlumency lessons anyone?) the kid. Teaching at Hogwarts was never about redemption. It was about staying out of Azkaban. (And Dumbledore's manipulation, but he's a whole 'nother can of worms)

And what does it matter? I mean, Harry doesn’t have to care. Again, these are moral assumptions you impose on the character just because you feel like it. I don’t give a damn if he cared about Harry or not; what matters to me is that he did his job effectively. What’s canon is that he spent seven years saving the ass of a kid who was constantly trying to get himself into trouble and who, along with his friends, was a constant headache. But thanks to Severus, they didn’t end up dead more than once, so whether or not he cared deep down about those kids doesn’t matter because what matters is that he did his job properly and kept them alive.

And well, I’m sorry if you don’t understand how sentencing works, but not all sentences involve going to prison. Community service is a type of sentence, for example, so maybe Severus didn’t go to Azkaban, but he paid his debt to society in full by serving Dumbledore for 16 years and then continuing his legacy even after his death. I don’t care if he was a bad teacher; that’s Dumbledore’s fault for putting him there at 21, with massive trauma, zero chances to heal emotionally, and an overwhelming workload. Good or bad teacher, he paid his debt to society, so sorry, but your whining is, once again, utter nonsense based on your ethical and moral expectations that don’t matter for presenting the facts.

Second: the books actually say that Snape was 'up to his nose in the dark arts'. He was an active participant. He didn't just 'hang out' with to-be-DE, he WAS one. He joined up of his own free will. He became Voldemort's RIGHT HAND. He didn't regret calling someone a mudbl***. He regretted that it was Lily.

It’s funny that you attack me, calling me a TERF, and two seconds later, you talk about Severus as if he’s pure evil incarnate without taking into account his context and how he perfectly fits the usual target demographic for far-right groups to recruit new members. How the fact that Severus came from a poor and extremely violent environment made him a perfect victim to fall under the influence of people who offered him a better life, recognition, and support, when outside of that environment, all he knew was not even having enough to buy clothes and being tormented by a couple of rich pure-blooded kids making his life miserable. And yes, girl, he called Lily a Mudblood, but honestly, Lily had been about to smile at her bully while that bully was sexually assaulting him, and he had just come out of a highly stressful situation. We all say things we don’t mean in moments like that because we act completely irrationally. Plus, Severus could also be considered a Mudblood, considering he was a half-blood with a Muggle father and had grown up in a Muggle neighborhood surrounded by Muggles, so it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to me, but whatever.

And Snape CANONICALLY attacked the marauders just as much as they went after him. Just because they went after him first in that ONE memory, doesn't mean he didn't instigate too.

I don’t know if you’re still drunk after Christmas Eve dinner or what, but the books never establish such a thing. That’s something Sirius says, who is a completely unreliable source because, at 36, he was still calling the guy he nearly killed by that shitty nickname. So, sorry if I don’t trust anything from a guy who showed zero remorse about being a disgusting bully, but what do you want me to tell you?

What is established in the books is that Severus and Lily were calmly talking on the train, and James Potter interrupted their conversation to make fun of Severus. What is established in the books is that Sirius committed attempted murder. And what is established in the books is that Severus was walking along minding his own business, and since Sirius Black was super bored and wanted it to be a full moon, his best friend James Potter decided to attack Severus Snape and humiliate him in front of the entire school. They attacked him two-on-one, outnumbering him. Not only that, but they were also two rich kids from upper-class pure-blood aristocratic families going after a half-blood, working-class kid who didn’t have a dime to his name and no parents to defend him. Ignoring the extreme inequality between Severus and his bullies shows a tremendous lack of social awareness and absolutely zero understanding of class dynamics. I’m surprised that some of you claim to be activists and call yourselves social justice warriors when you haven’t cracked open a book in your lives. If you had, you’d see how problematic it is to defend a couple of rich bullies over their poor victim. It’s absolutely classist and disgusting, and pretending they were on equal footing and it was just a rivalry is to completely ignore all the power imbalances inherent in relationships affected by pronounced social and economic disparities. James and Sirius were two abusive rich brats who constantly mocked a kid for his appearance, which was directly tied to his lack of financial resources. When they laughed at him in the school courtyard, they made direct references to the state of his underwear, which relates precisely to his economic and social condition. You’re defending a couple of classist jerks, and then you throw around buzzwords like "she must be a TERF." Well, I’ve never excused anyone’s transphobia—you should stop excusing classism because, in that sense, you resemble J.K. Rowling far more than I do, clown.

And let's talk about the werewolf incident for a minute because i am sick and tired of Snape Apologists using this as an excuse. That was NOT planned. That was a lapse of judgement on Sirius' part alone (yeah, fucked to hell and he is fully responsible for that). At the same time though, NO ONE MADE HIM GO. Snape was given a vague instruction and he was so focused on 'getting back' at the marauders that he put HIMSELF in danger. That is just as much on him as it is on Sirius.

Ah, there it is, the one who calls women TERFs but then engages in victim-blaming. Yes, it was planned—Sirius planned it. And it’s called attempted murder, which not only should have resulted in expulsion but in the real world would have landed Sirius in a juvenile detention center for a few months if the prosecution's lawyer had been good. But setting that aside, I really like how you say “nobody forced Severus to go,” blaming him for what happened. It reminds me of when I was almost raped in a nightclub a few years ago, and the security guard I told about it to catch the guy said something like, “Well, no one told you to make out with that guy, you know.” It’s exactly the same goddamn speech that any basic straight guy would give to a woman who’s been assaulted or nearly so, questioning her about how she was dressed, where she was, or how far things went with the man in question. A round of applause—besides being a classist jerk, you re-victimize abuse victims. You really have it all, my friend.

Then the sexual assault? This is another common thing I see and it took me forever to figure out what it was even referring to. The pantsing? You cannot tell me he was the only one that happened to. If the levitating spell was really as popular as it's stated, this incident wasn't special. I'm willing to bet Snape did it to others too.

I’d like you to imagine Severus as a girl for a moment, and James exposing her in front of the whole school in her underwear. Then I’d like you to picture her in her bra and panties and imagine James’s voice saying, “Should I take off her knickers?” And now I want you to tell me that’s not sexual assault. It’s incredible how Marauders stans try to come across as super progressive and woke, but you just can’t, because your entire personality is based on defending rich elitist kids. And, of course, the mask slips. I have to laugh because seriously, it’s pathetic.

Third: Lupin not taking the wolfsbane. Yes, serious lapse in judgement. He also just saw Peter and Sirius on the map. The argument of it being criminal and a ticking time bomb is honestly werewolf prejudice and exactly why Remus has such a hard time finding a job in the first place. Way to go. You've discovered discrimination.

And no, I don’t feel sorry at all for the bullying accomplice who grew up to be an irresponsible adult, ended up knocking up a 24-year-old at 38, and then bolted. As far as I’m concerned, Remus Lupin can go to hell a thousand times. But hey, no problem, let’s keep defending accomplices to abuse who treat their partners like garbage. Why not? Poor thing.

Fourth: Get McGonagall's name out of your fucking mouth. She is CANONICALLY shown NOT showing prejudice and treating EVERYONE by the same standards. And, did you forget that 'Moody' here was actually a death eater in disguise? No duh he's using cruel and unusual punishments??? Full of abusive teachers my ass.

I never said McGonagall didn’t treat people equally; I said she was quite a strict teacher, and that’s canon. Severus wasn’t the only teacher who talked to or treated students in questionable ways, and if it had been such a big deal, his colleagues would have called him out—which never happened.

Fifth: What do you mean the kids weren't scared for life? I do believe those CHILDREN will carry that trauma with them for the rest of their lives. Saying that it didn't break them is cruel and completely dismisses the VERY REAL pain and suffering that they went through. They are real heroes because they OVERCAME their trials. Not all of us out here in the real world are so lucky.

It’s funny how you’re so convinced that having a strict teacher will leave children permanently traumatized for life, clutching your pearls over the cognitive and psychological consequences that might result, yet you wrote an entire text tearing down a character who endured violence as a child, suffered intense bullying, and was abandoned by every adult around him. For you, suffering and pain only matter when it’s about tearing down a character you hate. You’re like a typical right-wing politician, only concerned about social issues when it’s time to crush the opponent. Quite hypocritical and double-standard behavior on your part, but then again, not much more can be expected from someone with zero class consciousness.

And saying Regulus accomplished nothing? Disgraceful. Of course it took a catalyst for him to change his ways thats how redemption arcs work.

Ehhhh no. Regulus was a rich kid like Draco Malfoy, thrilled to be a Death Eater. He joined because he genuinely believed he was superior to others due to his blood status and aristocratic family. But when faced with bloodshed, it overwhelmed him, and he backed out. He didn’t accomplish anything—he just acted foolishly, which delayed things for Harry years later. Funny how you see redemption in Regulus but not in Severus, who spent almost twenty years of his life paying his debt to society. Funny how you’re so lenient with Regulus, who’s described as handsome, wealthy, similar to his brother physically, coming from a privileged family, fitting the aesthetic of a mysterious, elegant guy that looks great on Pinterest boards. But you’re not so understanding with Severus, who came from abject poverty, is constantly described as ugly and unpleasant, and clearly lacks that smooth aura. I love it because people like you point fingers at others for things that are really just projections of your own internal prejudices.

If you made it this far, I hope you have a good day. Believe whatever you want, obvy I'm not going to change anyone's opinion. You can't MAKE a person understand. Still, it's nice to rant and remind myself how nice it is that I live in my own little corner of the fandom where I don't have to see this bullshit on my dash

If you’ve read this far, I wish you a Merry Christmas. I hope one day you’ll dignify yourself by opening a book on social politics or class dynamics. I hope one day you’ll bother to read statistics on how violence and economics interplay with predispositions to criminality. And I hope one day you’ll think twice before calling someone a TERF without reflecting on your own disgusting classism, beauty privilege tendencies, victim-blaming, and utter inability to analyze characters. Also, you might want to reconsider defending rich, privileged, abusive kids because it’s seriously cringe-worthy. Kisses.

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[1425fivefive]

if you’re still doing kink prompt asks, can you do piercings/tattoos with Carlos Sainz and Oscar Piastri?

yes!! carlos is a piercer in this and oscar has a pussy for unexplained reasons. there is an actual genital piercing in this, so don't read if you're squeamish about that 💕 (for the kink prompt asks)

Carlos sucks Oscar’s clit into his mouth, moaning when Oscar lets out a desperate whimper of Carlos’s name, thighs trembling.

Oscar’s always been sensitive, always liked having his clit sucked and played with. Most of the time, Carlos feels like he barely has to do anything to have Oscar coming, shaking and whining, falling apart on Carlos’s fingers or face or cock. Carlos knows he’s good with his hands, has to be because of his work, but he’s not delusional enough to think he’s some sort of sex god. He knows Oscar is just like that. Too sensitive for his own good.

Carlos had brought up the piercing sort of as a joke. Pinched Oscar’s clit between his fingers and said, “Imagine how sensitive you would be with something sparkly here. You would never stop coming, I think.” Oscar’s mouth had dropped open, blinking up at Carlos with a shocked expression, and he came with a shuddering moan, clit twitching between Carlos’s fingers. Oscar hadn’t wanted to talk about it after, had just shoved his face against Carlos’s neck, thick thigh slung over Carlos’s waist.

Oscar hadn’t brought it up again for ages and Carlos figured he’d forgotten about it. Mindless dirty talk, in one ear and out the other.

But Oscar had turned up at the shop one day, hoodie pulled over his head like he was trying to avoid being spotted, like anyone would care about a random engineering student walking into a piercing studio. He’d barely been able to get the words out but he’d asked Carlos to show him pictures of clitoral piercings.

Carlos had pulled out a binder and they’d flipped through it together, Carlos resting a soft palm on Oscar’s lower back, pointing out which ones would increase sensitivity, which ones were easiest to heal.

Oscar lingered on one picture. “What’s this one called?” Oscar asked, voice so soft Carlos almost couldn’t hear him.

“Ah, that one is a vertical clitoral hood piercing,” Carlos said. “VCH for short.”

Oscar hummed, a pink flush rising in his cheeks.

“It is pretty, no?” Carlos asked, watching Oscar closely.

“Yeah, uh, really pretty,” Oscar said, still barely audible. “And does it—feel good?”

Carlos laughed softly, leaning in to press a kiss to Oscar’s neck. “Very good, cariño. The people I have given it to are always leaving me very nice reviews.”

Oscar let out a little squeak, a shiver running through him.

“If you want,” Carlos murmured, tugging Oscar closer to him, sliding his hand down to cup Oscar’s arse. “I could do it for you.”

Oscar moaned, shuddering against Carlos. “I have to—I need to—” He trailed off, letting out another little moan. “Let me think about it, maybe?”

“Of course,” Carlos said. “Take as long as you need.”

He’d eaten Oscar out on one of the display counters, after, made Oscar come three times on his tongue, imagining the taste of metal in his mouth, how easy it’d be to make Oscar come.

In the end, Oscar had only taken a week to think about it.

They’d been in Carlos’s flat, Oscar in Carlos’s lap, Carlos helping Oscar bounce on his cock, when Oscar had panted, “I want it. Please, Carlos. Want you to.”

Carlos had come on the spot.

And now he has Oscar in his bed, naked and flushed, thick thighs splayed apart, pussy dripping onto Carlos’s sheets. Carlos’s piercing tools are next to them on a tray, along with the little bar Carlos picked out for him with two white jewels on either end. The little bar that’s going to be pressed up right against Oscar’s clit, keeping him sensitive and wet and needy, desperate for Carlos.

Carlos moans against Oscar’s cunt, sucking hard on his clit. It’ll be easier if Oscar’s turned on, his clit swollen and easy to pierce. And it’ll be less painful if he’s just come. If he’s still riding the endorphins of his orgasm. Oscar also won’t be able to play with his clit for a few weeks, has to leave it alone to heal. Carlos can’t even imagine how desperate Oscar will be at the end of it, how good that first orgasm with the piercing in will feel. Carlos sort of wants to see if he’ll finally be able to get Oscar to squirt.

“Carlos,” Oscar gasps, back arching off the bed and thighs spreading wide in the way they always do right when he’s about to come. “Carlos, fuck, oh, please, Carlos.”

Carlos whines and drags a flat tongue over Oscar’s clit, keeping the pressure steady and even, making sure his tongue’s covering Oscar’s entire clit, that Oscar can feel him everywhere.

Oscar’s thighs are shaking and he’s gone almost silent, nothing except little gasping breaths, tiny hitched whimpers. It only takes one more drag of Carlos’s tongue for Oscar to come with a hoarse scream, cunt twitching rapidly under Carlos’s mouth, wetness flooding onto Carlos’s chin, Carlos’s sheets. Carlos groans, licking Oscar through it, hoping his sheets will smell like Oscar for days, a reminder of the pleasure Carlos brought him.

Oscar hasn’t even finished coming when he gasps, “Do it.”

Carlos moans, giving Oscar’s clit one last suck, but he sits up, grabbing for the needle.

Oscar’s still shaking a bit, still trembling, but he goes still when Carlos pinches Oscar’s swollen clit between his fingers, letting out a whimper that sounds aroused and frightened all at once.

“Deep breath, cariño,” Carlos murmurs, positioning the needle. He feels focused, in control. He’s done thousands of piercings, he knows he’s good at this, knows he won’t hurt Oscar. “Deep breath.”

Oscar whimpers again but he takes a shaky breath in, looking up at Carlos with desperate eyes.

“Good,” Carlos soothes. “Now let it out.”

Oscar starts to exhale and Carlos pushes the needle through, quick and efficient, one smooth movement.

Oscar lets out an anguished scream but it turns into something else halfway through, a cry of pleasure, and then Oscar’s shaking, toes curling, hands twitching, letting out little gasps of, “Oh, oh, oh.”

“Oh my god,” Carlos moans, watching Oscar come just from the feeling of being pierced, just from the brush of metal against his clit. “Oh my god, Oscar, oh my god.”

Oscar’s still coming, cunt gushing onto the bed, trembling and crying out, desperate chants of Carlos’s name.

“I’m here,” Carlos breathes, pressing a kiss to Oscar’s knee, keeping the needle steady, keeping Oscar’s throbbing clit between his fingers. “I’m here, baby, you’re okay.”

“Carlos,” Oscar sobs, one last shiver before finally going lax against the bed.

Carlos takes a shaky breath before reaching for the jewelry, slipping it through and screwing the gems on either end. Carlos can’t hold back a moan at the sight of Oscar’s puffy cunt, his swollen clit decorated with little jewels. Carlos had thought Oscar’s cunt was pretty before, but now—

“Beautiful,” Carlos murmurs, staring at Oscar’s pussy. “So pretty.”

Oscar whines, thighs splaying open, even as he whispers, “Hurts.”

“I know,” Carlos soothes, running a palm over Oscar’s thigh. “But I think you like that, no?”

Oscar lets out a tiny, anguished sob, but he nods, once.

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

Summary: What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hosuk.

🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

📕 Number of part: 15/?

🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Guys, this is crazy. I spent a lot of nerves writing this part. It was the hardest for me. It's also the longest of all the parts I've written. Please, at least there were a minimum of mistakes 🤏🏻 🙏🏻 In this part, we learn more about the clan in which Jungkook works. And oh my god, what is Jungkook going to do with Doohoon? 😵 Please let me know in the comments how you like this part ����🫠🫶🏻

🫂Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘�� You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜

⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 15. Who are you, Jungkook?

𓏧POV Jungkook𓏧

"She's pretty." - Jungkook hears his ex-girlfriend's voice from somewhere in the distance. Jungkook looks after you. He remembers your expression, you looked angry. But he can't really tell if it's because of Doohoon or because of his ex's appearance. He wants so badly to follow you, not to stand here and look at the face of the person he thought he would never see again in his life.

Ha Young hasn't changed much, her eyes as mischievous and playful as ever. She was never serious, like you, for example. She was indifferent to everything. She only cared about her image and the money she had to have in a constant flow.

Jungkook looks at his ex with an angry look. Who is she to judge you? She never loved you, and it always annoyed Jungkook.

Jungkook recalls the time when they were dating against his will.Jungkook remembers how they would fight every time Ha Young found out that he was talking to you.

"She looks much better in person than in the photo. I never thought I'd get to meet your precious bestie." - Ha Young says sweetly. Jungkook clenches his jaw. He's only here to find out what this woman is doing here, and why she's in the company of his former friend and now enemy.

He doesn't have time to listen to her thoughts on you. All he can think about is that you're alone and he's not there. Doohoon is here, which means he will try to get closer to you. He threatened to have you. Not in this life. Jungkook won't give you to anyone because he's become so greedy for you. He doesn't understand what these feelings are, but the thought of you being with another man drives him crazy. Not to mention Doohoon, who can only get you over his dead body.

"You have exactly one minute to talk." - Jungkook says coldly. He has to hurry to get to you, and he doesn't have time for anything else.

"In a hurry? Want to see your upset bestie? She's angry. She's probably dying of jealousy." - Ha Young said and smiled wickedly.

"You'd better speak to the point." - Jungkook says threateningly. Ha Young stops laughing. Jungkook's furious look makes her nervous. But she has a plan to follow.

"Don't get mad, champ. I was just joking." - Ha Young smiles sweetly as she looks at Jungkook. God, he's even hotter than he was before. Maybe she'll have a chance to get into his pants. She has no doubt that she's better than you in bed, and she could make Jungkook feel good. The sight of him now just makes her drool. "I want to smoke a cigarette. Can we go to the smoking room?" - Jungkook clenches his fists nervously, he's hesitant to go with his ex or not. Is he worried about you. He decides it shouldn't take long. A quick conversation and he'll be back with you. Besides, you're under the protection of Hoseok and Taehyung.

Ha Young walks in front, Jungkook walks a little behind. He doesn't look at her at all. He's holding his phone in his hand and checking a text from Hayato.

This guy belongs to Jungkook's group. He is Japanese by birth and lives in Korea. He speaks good Japanese, so he is very helpful in getting the devices back. Hayato writes that the devices were transported to Sapporo. And that Doohoon is personally supervising the transportation. Jungkook wants to curse. Doohoon, that dambass. He getting tired of him doing this shit.

Jungkook writes to Hayato to find out where the devices will be delivered to Spapporo. He also asks for information on how to pick them up.

The loud music and conversations fade away as Jungkook and Ha Young find themselves in a room in front of the restrooms. The room is large. It has sofas and tables with ash trays on them. There is a slight smell of cigarette smoke in the air. There are hoods working here.

Ha Young sits down on one of the sofas and takes out a cigarette from a small black handbag. She seems to have taken it only to have a place to put the pack of cigarettes. Jungkook stands at a distance. He doesn't want to smoke with her. Although he wouldn't mind smoking one to calm his nerves.

Ha Young takes a drag and then a thick cloud of smoke leaves her mouth. She takes another drag and then smiles with satisfaction.

"So is it true that you guys are fucking?" - Ha Young asks, her eyes radiating pure curiosity.

"Do you think it's any of your business?" - Jungkook replies dryly. Ha Young laughs. She takes another drag and blows out smoke.

"Doohoon told me you're fucking her. And that you've wanted to do it for a long time. You wanted to fuck her even when we were dating?" - She asks. Jungkook is angry. Not only is Doohoon a dumb asshole, he also has a big mouth.

"You were fucking Taejoon when we were dating." - Jungkook reminds his ex. "Is it worth it for you to bring up that time now?"

The reason they broke up was because of an affair. Jungkook met Ha Young at a club in Namjoon, the same club where he fought. She worked there as a ring model. They are the ones who carry the signs with the round numbers.

He remembers her flirting and seducing Jungkook. She was always hanging around him because he was the best fighter. Their romance started quickly because they instantly became passionate. They dated for over six months. Ha Young always supported and cheered for Jungkook. She was good at relationships and always knew how to make Jungkook feel good.

Jungkook doesn't know if he was in love with her at the time or not, but he enjoyed being in this relationship. He shared absolutely everything with Ha Young. She knew everything about him without exception. He also told her about you.

When she saw your picture and found out how you were talking to her boyfriend, she often made scenes of jealousy and asked Jungkook to talk to you less. He was angry at this request. He couldn't give you up for his girlfriend. You were his friend for a very long time and he had special feelings for you that no one could understand. You are someone who must be in his life.

But in order not to upset his girlfriend, he stopped writing and calling you first. He was happy to communicate with you when you took the initiative, but after a while your communication went down to a minimum.

When the "super fight" situation happened, Ha Young began to distance herself from Jungkook. While he was dealing with the police, she hardly ever came to see Jungkook at the hospital, almost never answered Jungkook's messages, and even less often answered the phone when he called. Then later he found out that Ha Young was hooked up with Taejoon. He was Namjoon's man. Jungkook found out that she had been fucking him for months.

Jimin was the one who helped Jungkook find out the truth about his girlfriend. He remembers when they broke up. He wanted to punch that Taejoon guy in the face, but Jimin stopped him. He told him that Taejoon was close to Namjoon and if he picked a fight with him, his boss wouldn't like it. And Jungkook would get into big trouble with Namjoon himself. And since Jungkook already has a big debt, there's no need to make things even more complicated. "Some cheap vagina isn't worth the trouble." - Jimin said at the time. It was a big blow to him and he had a hard time with the divorce. But working for Namjoon helped him quickly forget those hard times. Ha Young disappeared from his life, and then Jungkook decided that he would not have a serious relationship, certainly not with the life he had. One-night stands were the best solution.

But now, looking at this woman, he feels nothing. Despite her beautiful dress and makeup, she doesn't look attractive.

Ha Young didn't say anything. She was silent because she had nothing to say. Jungkook knows that Taejoon bought his ex-girlfriend. And he bought her very cheaply.

"So what? Is she better than me in bed?" - Ha Young asked, almost finishing her cigarette. She only had a few puffs left.

"That's none of your fucking business. Tell me why you're here with Doohoon. How come the two of you are here with him?" - Jungkook says rudely. He's already tired of this dialog.

Ha Young slowly finished her cigarette and put it out, throwing it into the ashtray. She stood up and walked over to Jungkook.

"You've become so hard to me. Have you forgotten how good we had together? Is it because of your bestie?" - Ha Young asked as she touched Jungkook's chest with her hand. She lowered her voice to sound more sexy. Jungkook looked down at her hand and after a moment, he pushed it. He didn't want her to touch him.

"Listen, Ha Young. Don't mess with my head. I don't have time for your empty talk and memories from three years ago. If you don't start talking now, I'm going to leave. I'll find out for myself why you're here. And God forbid I find out that you're here because Doohoon brought you here for some plan. You'll regret ever being born." - Jungkook says threateningly. His eyes burn with rage.

Ha Young feels her skin crawl at Jungkook's tone. She's both scared and excited. Has he always been this fucking hot? Ha Young smiles to hide the embarrassment Jungkook has caused her.

This is why she's here. She has a debt to Doohoon and to get rid of it, she has to fulfill her part of the plan. Right now, her task is to get him to talk so that Doohoon can talk to his lovely friend. And then she has to do something special. But she has to wait for a sign.

"Do you want to know why I am here, Kook?" - Ha Young asks.

"You wanted to tell me yourself, that's why we're here now." - Jungkook replies. He senses that something is wrong. Is she stalling or something?

"Actually, I'm here because of you." - She finally starts to speak. "I've been communicate to Doohoon for a long time. Like a year or something. Once... I was saved by Doohoon. The client was terrible, he... I thought I wasn't going to get out of there alive." - Jungkook's ex says with a desperation Jungkook doesn't believe. He scrunches up his face.

"A client?" - He asks again. "What do you do for a living?"

"I work as an escort." - Ha Young says casually. Jungkook nods his head with an indifferent look. Ah, nothing has changed. Instead of a cheap prostitute, she's become an elite one.

"I see. So what? Why are you here because of me?" - Jungkook asks.

"Doohoon told me everything about you. When I found out that you were fucking your precious bestie, I felt so terribly jealous. She always pissed me off. I guess she got what she wanted. Didn't she?" - Jungkook's ex said, her voice bitter. "I've been thinking about you, darling, ever since we broke up. I want you back." - Jungkook laughed softly. Is she stupid or what? What does she take him for if she thinks he'll fall for that fairy tales?

"Really?" - Jungkook laughed.

"Yes, dear, I came here not because of him, but because of you! Jungkook, I remember us. The passion we had." - Ha Young's eyes light up. She moves closer to Jungkook, her voice softer but provocative. "We could start over. I'm better than her. I know the real you." - Jungkook looks at his ex with contempt.

"You don't know the real me. And I don't want to have anything to do with you." - Jungkook says cold.

"You can deny it all you want, but I know you haven't forgotten me. We were perfect together." - Ha Young says. She hears her phone vibrate three times. It's a message from Doohoon. It's a sign, she just needs to wait a few seconds. Doohoon is supposed to text three messages when he's at the door.

Ha Young walks up unexpectedly and presses herself against Jungkook and suddenly kisses him. She captures his lips immediately remembering the feeling. They taste so sweet.

Jungkook is confused, he didn't expect his ex to kiss him. She grabbed his collar and clung to him with her lips. As soon as he comes to his senses, he pushes her away. But not too hard so that she doesn't get hurt. Ha Young smiles with satisfaction at Jungkook.

He raises his eyebrows. He wants to yell at her, but with his peripheral vision, he notices someone outside the smoking room door. Jungkook turns his head, and everything stops inside him.

Your dazed eyes seem to cut him to pieces. Behind you, Doohoon is standing, holding your shoulders and smiling. Jungkook thinks he's going to lose his mind. Are you here with him? Did you see everything?

Jungkook quickly walks over to you. But when he opens the door, all he sees is your back. You run down the hall to the exit. Jungkook urgently needs to explain everything to you.

But Doohoon is standing in his way. Jungkook is so angry that nothing can hold him back.

Doohoon sees you running away because you didn't want to talk to Jungkook. He turns his head and is one step away from Jungkook.

"What did you do, you bastard?" - Jungkook hisses. Ha Young runs after him. She stands silently behind her ex-boyfriend.

"Really, Jungkook, do you have an obsession with taking my girls?" - Doohoon provokes Jungkook. He is already shaking with rage.

"How dare you touch her bastard? I told you that if you lay a finger on her, you'll be begging for breath!" - Jungkook clenches his fists so hard that his fingers crack. Doohoon smiles. Come on, dumbass, it's almost showtime.

"I was just talking to my friend. You don't seem to share anything with her. I told her the truth about you. She was shocked that you belong to the mafia." - This is the last thing he says before he meets Jungkook's fist with his face. The blow is so hard that Doohoon falls to the ground. His eyebrow throbs and hurts like hell. Doohoon feels warm blood trickling down his cheek.

Jungkook is blinded by anger. He's ready to just beat the bastard to death. How did he end up next to you? How did he get the chance to talk to you? Did he tell you that Jungkook belongs to the mafia? Where is everyone? How did he set it up so you could see that kiss? He swears he's going to kill Doohoon today.

Jungkook climbs on top of Doohoon, grabs his hair, and punches him in the face. He puts so much force into each punch that Doohoon's face instantly bleeds. This is the bastard's payback for everything he's done. For the stolen instruments, for the harassment, for telling you things you were never supposed to know, for bringing that whore in here who kissed him in front of you.

Doohoon laughs. He's hurt, but he knows that now Jungkook is in trouble. He doesn't mind sacrificing his face for the sake of the perfect execution of the plan. The plan to ‘destroy Jungkook’. This idiot is like a rabbit caught in a trap.

"I'm going to kill you, you son of a bitch!"- Jungkook shouts as he smashes Doohoon's face beyond recognition. "How dare you lay a finger on her?" - Jungkook is furious.

Doohoon could have really died today. But he is saved by the guys from the Namjoon clan.

Jimin is the first to run into the hallway and sees Jungkook punching Doohoon. Jimin tries to pull Jungkook away, but he's too strong. He shoves Jimin away and continues his work. Doohoon has to die so that Jungkook can finally live in peace.

Taehyung comes to help Jimin. People rush into the room. Yamada and his bodyguards. Jin and Hoseok are here. Ha Young is also among these people. She's the one who called for help. Jungkook is dragged away from Doohoon by force. Taehyung and Jimin can barely hold him, but Jungkook breaks free and screams.

"Let me go, I'll kill him." - Hoseok and Jin also run over to calm Jungkook down. Ha Young runs over to Doohoon and leans over him.

"Please call an ambulance!" - She begs.

Jungkook just can't be held back. He sees his friends and is so angry at them.

"Where the fuck were you guys? Why did you let him be around her?" - The guys look at Jungkook in confusion. Didn't he call them outside because he had something important to tell them?

"Buddy, calm down!" - Jimin finally says when Jungkook is pressed against the wall and breathing heavily. His hands are bruised and covered in blood. His face is also smeared with Doohoon's blood.

"What's going on here, Mr. Jeon?" - Yamada asks. Jungkook is out of his mind. He ignores the party host's question and turns to Jimin.

"Where the fuck is she?" - Jungkook is still breathing heavily. He is released, he stands up straight and his posture is tense.

"I saw her get into a taxi." - Jungkook hears Jin's voice. Jungkook takes off running, passing all the people who came to help Doohoon. When he reaches the half-conscious Doohoon, he stops. Ha Young defends his partner and several of Yamada's guards tense up with their hands on their guns.

Jungkook looks at his ex with contempt as she so desperately defends Doohoon.

"I swear, you fucking bastard. I'll blow your head off if you ever show up near Y/N again." - Jungkook throws in a final word and walks out of the hallway. He leaves the restaurant to find you.

***

Your hands are shaking. You feel something painful squeezing your chest, preventing you from breathing in properly. Tears are running down your cheeks, forming a wet path. Each new tear runs along the established route, hot on the trail and instantly cold.

Your head hurts, from crying and an endless stream of thoughts. Oh God, you're going to go crazy.

You bought a ticket for a night flight to Korea. Your first thought when you realized who Jungkook and his friends really were was to run away. Are they the mafia and who knows what's in their heads? Maybe this trip to Japan is some kind of mafia business. What if you get hurt because of them? You have to run away, right?

You haphazardly stuff your things into your suitcase and beg yourself to get out of there before Jungkook comes. You knew he would. Maybe that's the only thing you know about him. Because it turns out you don't know the man at all.

Jungkook is working for the mafia. These words sound so absurd and it didn't fit into your mind. Your Jungkook, the one you've known since childhood, the one who could smile so warmly and sincerely-how could he be connected to this world? Could he really kill people? A whole bag of guns - isn't that strong evidence that he can?

Your relationship with Jungkook turned into a kind of disaster that threatened to break your heart. You succumbed to the feelings he aroused in you. The image of him kissing his ex was tearing you apart.

You see this picture before your eyes, and his words "mine" echo in your head. You are in so much pain. You pressed your hands to your chest and felt a very dull pain. Tears don't help at all, it seems to only get worse. Why did he say those things? Why did he do that to you? Why did he make you fall in love with him? It's not fair. Why did you find out that he belongs to the Mafia and see him kissing his ex one night? Does fate dislike you so much that it's cruel to mock you?

You ran from bathroom to room to get your things. You were getting ready for a party so fast that you threw everything around. Now you need to spend time putting it all in a suitcase.

Almost as you're packing, you think you should call a taxi to take you to the airport. You grab your phone and enter a request into the taxi app with shaking hands.

You hear the door of your room knocking and you freeze. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Your breathing is rapid. You know who it is.

Jungkook runs into the room and sees you. You're crying and you're almost packing your suitcase. He notices that you're dressed in black jeans and a warm sweater. The dress he bought you is lying on the bed.

Your eyes are frightened. You look at Jungkook and your hair stands on end. He's not wearing a coat, just his suit. His hands are smashed and covered in blood. There is also blood smeared on his face. His gaze was intense, and his eyes were dark, as if a storm had settled in them.

Your heart clenched at the sight. It was him, but at the same time not him. The man standing in front of you seemed like a stranger.

"What are you doing?" - His voice was low, almost hoarse.

"I'm leaving." - You say. Your voice trembles and he scratches at your throat.

"Baby no." - Jungkook says desperately. "Please let me explain everything to you?" - He walks toward you.

"Stay away from me." - You ask with fear in your voice. But Jungkook doesn't hear you. He approaches you and grabs you in his arms. You feel as if you've been frozen. You can smell Jungkook's perfume. For a moment, it seems that this is the most ordinary hug that has always been accompanied by this wonderful smell of citrus and lemongrass. This is your favorite smell. But it's all an illusion. This is not the same hug. Jungkook is not the person you know. Who are you, Jungkook?

"Let go." - You cry.

"It's that bastard Doohoon. He set this whole thing up..." - Jungkook explains. Jungkook holds you for a moment longer and takes your face in his hands. His heart breaks at the sight of your crying eyes. "Baby. My favorite little girl. Please, please listen to me. I'll explain everything to you..." - He's begging you so desperately, but you think you've had enough. Enough of all the darkness that shrouds Jungkook's personality.

You are on the verge of an emotional breakdown. You can't see that face in front of you anymore. You pull out of his arms and silently go to your suitcase. You have already called a taxi. You just need to take your things and leave.

"You're not going anywhere!" - Jungkook shouts. He's angry again. He throws your suitcase on the floor and all your things fall out. You are frozen. Jungkook's eyes are furious. You feel fear choking you. You start to cry harder.

"Please." - You cry softly. "Let me go... I'm... I'm afraid of you." - Jungkook almost faints. Why does your look remind him of all the people he's tortured when he needs to extract money or information? Are you really afraid of him? But he would never hurt you in his life. He is so angry about everything that happened that he probably looks like a monster. You look at him like a monster and your eyes are full of fear.

Jungkook is breathing heavily. He doesn't know what to do, but he doesn't want you to leave. He wants to explain everything to you. But do you want to hear him? But it looks like he can't hold you today. You're going to leave anyway, he knows. His world was falling apart right in front of him, and he didn't know how to put it back together.

Jungkook silently walked out, leaving you alone. You quickly gathered your things and left the hotel without a word.

***

When you arrived in Korea, you went straight to Suwon. On the morning of the day after Christmas, you were on your way from the airport to your hometown. You absolutely could not go to Jungkook's apartment. Everything there would remind you of him. You want to forget everything you've learned about him as much as possible. Your emotions get the better of you, you can't think straight.

Your parents were pleasantly surprised by your arrival. Almost from the doorstep, they thanked you for the Christmas gifts you had mailed to them before you left for Japan. Your parents also tried to ask you about your vacation in Niseko, but you lied that you were very tired from the road and would show them photos later. All of your parents' questions about Jungkook were skillfully ignored.

A few days passed. You kept getting texts from Jungkook that you didn't read and calls that you didn't answer. You even wanted to block him once because he called so often that it made you angry. But this morning you haven't received a single text message or call. In your mind, you're excited. Did he really leave you alone? But you were a bad liar. When the whole day passed and Jungkook still hadn't made himself known, you were upset.

Your oppression was so noticeable that your mom was worried. She asked what was wrong but you couldn't tell her. You lied and said it was just a stomachache. But it was really your soul that was hurting.

You lay in bed and thought about Jungkook. He's not the fucking guy you knew. He's a mafia guy. He probably tortures people. He probably uses brute force. Or a gun.

You have a clear image of him in your head, with a mischievous smile and a gentle gaze. You remember his arms hugging you. You just can't imagine those hands holding a gun and killing someone. You cry again because you are torn apart by feelings and common sense. You want him to be with you right now. He would hug you with his face buried in your shoulder, as he often did, and tell you that he would always be there for you. That it was all a bad dream. That he doesn't kill people and that it was just a mistake. You miss him so much that you want to crawl out of your own body. You don't know what to do. You ask mercy for yourself. You can't sleep without him. You are not full when he is not around.

On the other hand, your common sense says that Jungkook is dangerous and he really puts you in danger if you are around him. Knowing the world of crime, it's a constant threat and risk. You get scared. Jungkook must have been on the verge of death more than once. Your heart is squeezed with incredible pain. What should you do? Talk to him? Ask him to leave this world? Will he be able to do it? Your head is bursting with thoughts.

You get an idea. First, you need to find out everything about the RUN NOIR clan, and you have the opportunity. Despite the fact that it's almost three in the morning, you text your sunbaenim from first-year. Kim Ji Sung is a master of his craft. He is a journalist to the core, so if you need to find some hard-to-find information, this man is a real find. You are lucky to have known him. He taught you what a journalist should be, and you managed to get a lot from him during that year of your first year and his last.

So you were one hundred percent sure that he would help you. You write a short message saying that it's a matter of life and death and that you need detailed information about Namjoon and his clan. From the very beginning to the present day.

The night passes and you only fall asleep in the morning.

You didn't get as much sleep as you would have liked. Your eyes opened on their own at 9 am. You stayed in bed until eleven until your mom called you for breakfast.

You checked to see if Ji Sung had read your text. He had, but he didn't reply. You were nervous. Should you remind him about you again? You texted him and waited.

Your mom sat down at the table with you, having finished setting it. Your father was not at home, he was away on business.

"Are you okay, my daughter? Do you have such bags under your eyes? Are you not sleeping well?" - Your mom was worried. You were embarrassed. It was so obvious how you were hurting.

"I'm fine, mom." - You said softly, smiling. "I was just on the phone for a long time. I've lost my normal sleep rhythm with this vacation." - You turned back to your plate and lowered your head so that your mother wouldn't see your depressed mood. Mom started eating breakfast, believing your lie. She told you about Dad and where he had gone. Suddenly she started a conversation that you had been avoiding since you arrived.

"I've been wanting to ask you, dear. How is Jungkook? Did you come to Suwon together?" - Your mom asks with tenderness in her voice. And you feel like you've been electrocuted. The mere sound of his name sets your heart into a frantic gallop.

"No. He didn't come because he has a lot of work to do." - You try to speak calmly. Even though your pulse is pounding loudly in your ears.

"He's so busy all the time. Yonok is so worried about it. She complains to me that she sees her son once a year. You should talk to him. He should come more often." - Your mother said without reproach in her voice. It sounded more like a request. You mumbled that you would try to talk to him. But it doesn't seem like it's going to happen because you know the reason why he comes so rarely, and you don't know if you'll ever see him again.

"I haven't seen him in probably three years. Yeah, the last time was at your graduation. He must have gotten so handsome. He was always such a handsome boy. Does he have a girlfriend now? Yonok didn't tell me anything about whether he had a girlfriend or not. But he might not have told her." - Your mother talked about Jungkook nonstop. You lost your appetite. You decided that you should either change the subject or just leave.

"Mom..." - You called out. But she didn't seem to hear you.

"You know, I went to visit her recently. She asked me about you, and I showed her your photos. She said you've become so beautiful. Yeonok said that Jungkook should pay attention to you. She wouldn't mind if we became family. I support her completely. You know how much I love Jungkook. He's such a good boy. You've known each other since childhood. Don't you make a perfect couple?" - Your mom looks at you and meets your dumbfounded gaze. Even your moms are there too. Why does everyone around you think you're the couple to Jungkook? Is it all your "loving look" fault? But you're more surprised that your moms were discussing it. If they knew what was going on and who Jungkook really is. Would they have wanted him to be your boyfriend?

You are saved by the ringing of the phone. It's Ji Sung. When you see his name, you grab the phone and run to your room. Your mom can't know what this conversation is about. Closing the door behind you, you pick up the phone.

"Hello, Sunbaenim." - You greet.

"Hello, my precious Hubeh." - You hear your sunbae's cheerful voice. "We haven't talked for so long. When I saw your message, I was so happy until I read its content." - He laughs into the phone, you laugh back. "In where are you get into huh?"

"I'm sorry I didn't write to you sooner. I'm sorry. I promise to fix it." - You apologize sincerely. If Ji Sung were standing in front of you, you would bow low. "I didn't really get into anything. But I need information about these people. Can you help me?" - You said with hope in your voice.

"Do you even know who you're asking me to get information about?" - Your sunbae asked seriously.

"I do. They are connected to crime. Sunbaenim, please, I know you can get any information you want. I just need to know who these people are. And how dangerous they are." - You say pleadingly.

"Y/N, I can tell you without any information that Namjoon is very dangerous. And also 6 people close to him. He's a mafioso who holds almost all of Korea. He is definitely unrivaled in Seoul." - Ji Sung says. You're getting anxious. How bad is it?

"Really? And who are the six people who are close to him?" - You wonder if you can find out anything. You hear Ji Sung laughing.

"Y/N, you've always been inquisitive. But in the case of the RUB NOIR clan, this could be your fatal mistake." - Sunbae warns you. You have no choice. You need to take a risk to find out who your friend really is and whether you can help him leave this world.

"I'm begging you, Sunbae. This is important to me. I will owe you a debt. You know that one day you may need me very much." - You don't back down.

"You're still stubborn, I forgot about that." - Ji Sung says with a lament. You laugh into the phone. "Are you so desperate such terrible trouble on your ass? Do you have a boyfriend in their custody or something?" - You can hear your heart beating. Yes, he is. But he's not your boyfriend. Friend? You can't call Jungkook your friend anymore.

"You could say that. I'm going crazy with this. That's why I'm asking you so desperately. I need to know who these people are." - The lie falls from your lips so easily. You pause for no more than a few seconds. "Namjoon and these six people close to him." - You wait for a response. When you hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone, you hope that your lie has worked.

"Okay." - Your sunbae agrees. "But you have a very big debt to me. Because Namjoon can cut off my balls just for digging up information on him. And you, at best..." - For some reason, he suddenly fell silent. You were wondering what would happen to you if Namjoon found out that you asked sunbae to get information about him. But Ji Sung didn't finish his sentence. "I'll send you an encrypted link to download the file later this evening. When you get it, text me and I'll delete everything." - You were happy. Your eyes lit up in anticipation of knowing who they all were. Because you were sure that Jimin's name would be among the 6 people close to you.

"It's a deal. I'll be eternally indebted to you if you do this for me." - You said. Ji Sung smiled.

"Don't say such words. Being eternally indebted to me will be your curse." - Sunbae joked.

"I'm willing to endure that in exchange for very detailed information." - You promise. Ji Sung laughs again.

"We have a deal. I'll be in touch." - He says and hangs up the phone. You feel elated. You look at your phone and realize that Jungkook hasn't texted or called you for two days. This instantly spoils your mood. You go to chat with Jungkook and see his last message from two days ago.

09.21 PM 🐰 Jungkook: Baby please pick up the phone.

You look at his name and see the last time he was online. 5 minutes ago. He was online 5 minutes ago, but he didn't text you. You sadly lock your phone and go back to eating breakfast, which has already turned into lunch.

You finish your breakfast and help your mom with the cleaning and washing up. Your mom says that she is going to pickle a crab, she mentions that Jungkook loved her pickled crabs, and you start to get angry that she tells of him so often. Your mom asks you to go to the local supermarket and buy some food for tonight's dinner. Since she will be cooking the crabs, she can't go yourself.

You immediately agree, going to the store will be a great opportunity to clear your head. You go to the bathroom and take a quick bath. You get dressed and go to the store.

It takes about 20 minutes to walk to the nearest supermarket. You walked down the snowy street in your hometown where you used to go to school every day. Along the way, you met some friends and had a nice chat.

Finally, after buying everything on the list your mom wrote you, you returned home. You offered to help your mom with the pickling of the crabs when you came back from the store. She was almost finished cleaning the seafood and said she could do it herself. The marinade was ready, all that was left was to season crabs.

"If you want, you can help me prepare dinner. In the meantime, go do your own thing." - Your mom said gently. You agreed and went to your room.

You didn't do much of anything. You lay in bed, watching a drama, interrupted by your phone. You checked for texts from Ji-sung and Jungkook's online presence. He was online a lot today, by the way. Right now you look at your phone screen and see "online a minute ago". It's strange that he logs in so often and doesn't even write to you. He terrorized you for two days, and now he won't even send you a smiley face.

You felt a sadness that filled your entire consciousness. You blocked your phone in frustration and fell face first on the bed. How terribly you want to see him. To fall into his arms. To breathe in the smell of his perfume and forget that this horrible world exists at all.

The day passes almost in vain. Somewhere in the evening, when the sun went down and the frost outside became stronger, you felt that you were freezing. You got up, found a warm orange sweater and put it on. You also put on your socks because you had been walking around barefoot all day. You were about to leave your room and go to your mom's when you heard your phone vibrate. You had a small hope that Jungkook had texted you.

You grabbed the phone. The text wasn't from Jungkook, but it was just as important. It was from Ji Sung. You wasted no time in reading the message. There was a link. You clicked on it and a file was downloaded to your phone. When it was downloaded, you immediately texted Sunbae and he deleted everything. Before you opened the file, you received another message from sunbae.

05.12 PM Sonbae Kim Ji Sung : It was worth me all this effort. You are now my eternal slave 😁

You wrote a reply:

05.12 PM You: I'll do my best for you too Seongbae 🥺

You couldn't wait any longer. Sitting down on the bed, you opened the file. It was detailed about Namjoon and the "6 close to him":

Kim Namjoon - Leader.

Role: Chief strategist and leader.

Tasks: Developing clan development plans and setting long-term goals.

Organizing business operations and ensuring their efficiency.

Controlling financial flows and providing a "cover" for illegal activities.

Managing relations with other groups and authorities.

Profile: The founder of the RUN NOIR clan (translated as "Running in the Dark") and later the Mono Corp. He is cold-blooded and extremely intelligent. Namjoon is able to foresee several steps ahead, and his leadership is based on respect, not fear. He is an idealist, but his methods are often brutal when it comes to achieving a goal. He is passionate about art. The slogan of his clan and corporation is: "Run the world with art, rule the streets with shadows". He owns 26% of “Moro Corp”.

Min Yoongi - Shadow Leader

Role: Advisor and executor in the "shadows."

Tasks: Control of information flows and operational security of the clan.

Performing the most delicate and risky tasks that require skill.

Liaison with the criminal underworld outside of Seoul.

Characterization: Yoongi is older than Namjoon, but recognizes his leadership because he believes in his vision. Almost no one in the clan has seen his face and he owns 24% of “Mono Corp”.

Kim Seok Jin - Technician and financier

Role: Responsible for technology and financial fraud.

Tasks: Organizing cyber defense for the clan.

Conducting financial transactions, including money laundering.

Providing access to advanced technologies for other members.

Personality: Gene is jocular and seemingly carefree, but he is actually a genius in IT and finance. His knowledge and connections in the tech world give the clan an edge over the rest. He owns a 12% stake in “Mono Corp”.

Jeon Hosok - Supply and Logistics

Role: Head of Supply and Transportation.

Tasks: Organizing the delivery of illegal goods, including weapons and drugs.

Controlling the network of couriers and carriers.

Providing cover for illegal operations through legal business.

Characterization: Hosok always seems cheerful and frivolous, but he is a master at what he does. His cunning and talent for improvisation allow him to solve any logistical problems. He owns a 10% stake in Mono Corp.

Park Jimin - Businessman

Role: Curator of legal business.

Tasks: Management of a network of elite restaurants, nightclubs and gyms.

Organizing illegal fights and ensuring their profitability.

Communicating with investors and maintaining an ideal "clean" image for the public.

Characteristics: Jimin is charismatic and sexy, and has an innate talent for business. His charm helps him make lucrative deals, but his sweet exterior hides a dangerous and relentless personality. He owns a 10% stake in Mono Corp.

Kim Taehyung - Insider in the military police

Role: Source of access to military police information and resources.

Tasks: Using his status as a special forces officer to obtain information and cover for operations.

Organizing clan protection in case of threats from the police or other law enforcement agencies.

Participation in the elimination of "difficult" targets.

Characteristics: Taehyung is a two-faced man: to his colleagues, he is a professional and reliable officer, and to the clan, he is a dangerous and resourceful ally. He owns a 7% stake in Mono Corp.

Jeon Jungkook - "Brute Force"

Role: "Dirty worker."

Tasks: Racketeering, debt collection and elimination of undesirables.

Controlling the security and safety of the clan.

Organizing physical support for other members' operations.

Characteristics: Joined the clan almost four years ago. Participated in illegal fights organized in one of Namjoon's clubs. Has a debt to Namjoon. The amount of the debt is not disclosed anywhere.

You just can't believe what you just read. What killed you the most is that Taehyung is among these "6 close people". Your heart is broken because you thought he was almost a saint. He is also connected to the mafia and you feel sick.

Jungkook does the "dirty work" and you're not surprised. But it says here that he has debts. What is the amount of this debt? And why did he become a debtor? There are more questions than there were before.

You get goosebumps from the description of these people. You know most of them. And most importantly, these are the people in the mafia clan who keep the whole of Seoul in fear. The scariest thing here is that Jungkook is among these 7 people. Good lord, how? How did your best friend, a promising taekwondo fighter, the son of ordinary businessmen become such a man?

Your mother's voice brings you out of the state of prostration you've fallen into because of the information about the mafia clan.

"Y/N! Come downstairs, daughter!" - She shouts at you from somewhere on the stairs leading to the first floor. Her voice is joyful and excited. You block the phone and hurry downstairs. You hear her voice speaking happily to someone. "I'm happy to see you..."

You come down the stairs and freeze, grabbing the railing. No. It can't be! Jungkook.

He's sitting in the living room on the couch next to your mom. She's care him, and Jungkook smiles shyly at her. He's dressed in all black as usual, but he's not wearing any outerwear right now. He's wearing a black sweater and black sweatpants. His bangs are combed to the front and have a slight parting. You look at your best friend and your heart threatens to jump out of your chest. Your fingers and toes go numb. You missed him so much. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stand motionless at the first step up the mountain.

Jungkook notices you and your eyes finally meet. You look into those big black eyes, similar to Bambi's, and you see something familiar and so necessary in them. Jungkook smiles at you lightly.

"Hi, baby." - He says in his trademark Jungkook voice with a hint of apology and playfulness.

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[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Hello, I just recently found your stuff, but I love it soooo much. I always look forward to reading your stuff on my breaks at work.

This is my first ask, so I'm so sorry if I have done it wrong. But how would the warlords react to a reader who instead of rejecting their affection because of the normal reasons, she rejects them because she genuinely thinks they deserve someone better and more fitting to be their queen and you know, not a human, because she thinks very little of herself because she came from a bad home with like a mean dad who was verbally and mentally abusive with the prompts 9 and 17.

- a bookworm with taste

P.s. I love the cursed warlords au it's so fun to read :)

The way you asked this is perfectly fine! However, since it includes prompts from the list, I actually categorize this as a request. Not a problem at all, I like requests! So the Request would be Prompt 9 and 17 for Cursed Warlords AU! I love the extra tidbits with this! And since this au already has a specific dynamic I keep it as that dynamic! Even if not prompted that way~ You did NOT specify which prompt we were talking about. Because there are Dialogue prompts and word prompts. I’m going to go with the dialogue prompts because that’s what I THINK you’re talking about… But next time if you request something please specify, I don’t want to do the wrong thing. Regardless THANK YOU for the request! Dialogue Prompt 9. “A peach for our sweet flame.”

Dialogue Prompt 17. “You’re here because I want you to be.”

Three weeks, it’s been three weeks since you’ve been trapped on the island with Wukong and Macaque. You’ve rejected them so many times… why don’t they understand? Why don’t they understand that nothing good will come of them keeping you here? You are a mere human woman, nothing like the others that they could have. They could have anyone they wanted, so why were they keeping YOU here?

You sighed as you sat silently at a small table in the garden. Your favorite flowers were blooming at your feet, when were they moved into the Kings’ personal garden? You could have sworn that you’ve never seen them here before.

“My Queen, there you are~ You had me worried you tried to ‘escape’ again~” Wukong’s voice practically sang through the air.

You turned your head to look at him but didn’t say anything. He looked so happy to see you, his face clearly beaming as he happily skipped over to you. His tail wagging as he took a seat in front of you. He leaned forward in his seat holding his cheek with his hand while his elbow rested on the table.

“…” You weren’t sure what to say.

You felt a warmth radiate behind you and a peach was held out to you as Macaque wrapped his arm around you, holding the peach in his hand. You stared at it in shock, your eyes widening in shock.

“A peach for our sweet flame~” He grinned happily catching you off guard.

“I-I don’t need it,” You muttered quietly, why should they give you such things? They didn’t need to personally bring you food.

You couldn’t stop looking at the table in shame. You didn’t belong here, there was no way that they actually cared about you. You wanted to leave, you didn’t deserve any of this. You couldn’t stop downgrading yourself no matter how much you tried to stop.

“Why’s that?” Wukong asked, his smile turning into a slight frown at your rejection.

“You can have it, but- I don’t deserve it,” You muttered quietly and almost immediately there were two warlords slamming their hands to the table. Macaque almost crushed the peach in his anger but barely managed not to.

“What the hell are you talking about!?” Wukong yelled angrily at the mere mention of you not being good enough.

“There is no reason for you to think of something so stupid! You are more than worth it darling,” Macaque added quickly, pulling you close to him as he nuzzled against your face.

“No- I don’t. There is no reason for you two to keep me here, truly,” You responded slowly, as you looked down again.

You were forced to look up again when Wukong gripped your chin and gently pulled it up so you were looking straight at him. “You are here, because I want you to be. We want you to be. We love you for you, and you more than deserve it,” Wukong replied calmly looking at you with a stern gaze.

Your eyes widened in shock at his words. He didn’t mean that did he? There was no way that he actually meant that- However the longer you stared into his eyes, the more you came to realize that yes, yes he did mean it. You turned to look at Macaque for a different answer, but he too held the same resolve in his gaze.

They both loved you and wanted you to stay. All you had to do was eat the peach that they offered you~ Not that you knew it would bind you to them eternally~

[altxrrmelancholy]

Cherry Lemons pt.2

Tags: attempt at angst, yet another argument (a minor one though), Yunho, Min, Woo and Yeo for moral support, sfw, matz moment.

Wc: I wasn't even counting...

Note: ik I have several works pending, but this was long overdue. I deserve punishment for making some of you wait. I'm sorry 🙁. Anyway, enjoy!

Make sure to read part one first!

It was crispy outside, so cold. The leaves outside the house had covered almost all the grass that there was barely any green left. There were dark clouds constantly throughout the day. Times like these are when students dread going to class. They would sit through lectures and wish they were somewhere else instead. The lecturers had probably noticed since the classes for the particular semester were also very little. This meant that students could barely be seen on campus if it isn't class time. There were definitely pros and cons to the weather.

The outside was not the only place that was noticeably cold.

Ever since the stunt outside the house, everybody seemed to be walking on eggshells around Hongjoong and Seonghwa. In a normal setting, these two got along. As the two oldest in the house, they were closer to each other than any other person in there. Now Seonghwa spent nearly all day in his room if he was in the house as Hongjoong seemed to avoid any place graced by his- erm...best friend? Whenever they were in the same room, the atmosphere was painfully awkward. None of the other boys knew if the two knew that they were ruining everyone's mood. Were they gonna talk to them though? Not a chance.

.

.

Now Seonghwa knew it was pretty shameless of him to keep calling all the time because they usually went to voicemail anyway.

He screwed up. Big time. At least he knew that.

He also didn't have the courage to go over to your dorm room and apologize. He didn't know where to start. One would think that the two weeks that passed ever since that night would give him enough time to formulate an apology, what he would say to you when he saw you, if he did.

What did he even plan to say, if by sheer luck, you did pick up one of his calls? I'm sorry, forgive me, I miss us please give us a chance? By nature, you were a nice person, especially to the people you cared about. He could at the moment imagine, as he lay on his pillow with his eyes closed, that he was laying on your chest like he used to do.

He would look up at his beautiful delusion, and you would look down at him and smile, admiring his eyes.

I'm sorry, he would say. I really care about you and would never intentionally hurt you. You know that, right?

And you would smile. I know. You don't need to apologize. And he would wrap both his hands around you and squeeze you so tight that he could feel both your hearts beat in sync.

That would be after he, of course, fucked you into the mattress as you laughed with each other about how crazy it was that you were actually sleeping with each other. He never really knew at what point he started developing actual feelings for you. At first, the two of you were friends with benefits. Maybe he always had feelings for you? He didn't want to dwell in that.

Seonghwa has spent many days imagining scenarios like that. He frowns as he realizes that he is not actually laying on your chest. And that his pillow was cold, and your scent gone.

This is the nth day in a row, Hwa. He dragged his tired eyes to you as you stood over him beside his bed, his T-shirt on your frame. He never allowed you to wear his clothes. He almost felt like crying. Why didn't he allow you to wear his clothes?

"I'm sorry." He said still staring at you.

I know. Now go and eat, please-

"I'm sorry for calling you a bitch. I know I hurt your feelings." You looked at him in confusion. "I'm so, so sorry Y/n. I didn't mean any-"

A knock on the door. Whoever that was stepped in. Mingi.

"Hey, Seonghwa?" He whispered hesitantly as he saw the man on his bed. "Yunho, Woo and I were gonna go get dinner. Come with us?"

It was dinner time?

It's not like he intentionally refused to eat. He just couldn't eat a full meal. His diet lately consisted of snacks that he would sneak out from the kitchen when he was sure Hongjoong wasn't in the house, or in his room. And then he would hurry back to his and close the door softly, like he never left. He should eat though. He loved food.

He nodded weakly at Mingi as he got up. "I'll be down in a second." Mingi shrugged and shut the door a little too hard, prompting a wince from Seonghwa. He looked to his left to hopefully continue apologizing to you, but you were already long gone.

.

.

Since you shared a major with Yeosang, one of Seonghwa's housemates, he was helping you with a few classes that you seemed to struggle with. It's not like they were difficult or anything, you just couldn't bring yourself to study efficiently lately.

"You think you can do the entire paper on your own now?" He said as he gave you your study books over the condiments on the table.

"Sure. I mean, we have been studying, right?" You said as you packed your books and tied your hair so you could eat. Yeosang was surprisingly good company. Considering he started talking to you after the night you were driven home with your tail between your legs. You thought he only started talking to you because he felt pity for you, but nothing about him has ever popped up. Whether he was pretending or not, you didn't know.

As you both were eating, of course, nothing was going right for you this semester. You dropped your fork on the floor as you were absentmindedly staring at your food, causing a bit of spillage. "Shit."

"Oh. No worries. I'll get another for you." He says, standing.

"Thanks, Yeosang." And just as you were about to pick yours from the floor, someone else beat you to it.

"Here you g- Y/n?" You looked at the source of the voice and could see Yunho crouching down beside you. Lo and behold, behind him was Seonghwa. He was staring at you with his eyes wide, his hands around his arms. Why wasn't he wearing a jacket? It's so cold.

But of course that wasn't the most prevalent thing in your mind. But did he look different. You couldn't tell what exactly was different about him. His aura was not the usual confident one he had. Come to think of it, you don't recall hearing his bike around campus these days. Did his hair grow longer? You had to get out of here.

"Y/n? I got your fork. Oh. hey." Yeosang was aware of Seonghwa's presence and suddenly everybody was waiting for anyone to say something. Mingi and Woo were holding each other's arms behind Seonghwa while staring back and forth at everyone. Yunho stood up finally, ready to hold anyone back in case something happened, in this very public diner.

Seonghwa glanced at Yeosang. What was he doing here with you? He didn't remember the two of you being close at all. He heard the sudden scrape of a chair on the floor and watched you pack your bag.

"Yeosang, I'll call you later, okay?" You didn't even give him a chance to answer as you had already started walking away, zipping up your jacket. Seonghwa couldn't allow this to happen. He watched you walk away that night, and he couldn't allow that to happen again.

"Y/n, wait." He walked after you. Yunho was quick to hold him back. "Just let her go, man."

He pushed Yunho out of his way, hard, and ran outside after you.

"Shit, guys. Let's go." Mingi and Wooyoung who were just looking at the drama unfold ran outside after him, Yeosang on their track.

"Y/n? Y/n please stop, I need-"

"What!" Your eyes were starting to turn red as you faced your- what, now ex-boyfriend?

"What do you want, Seonghwa?!" You were now standing in an alleyway, and it was dark. Reminiscent of that night.

"I-I..." His heart was racing. What, again, was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry."

You blinked. That was it?

You scoffed and turned around to head back to your dorm room, but Seonghwa's sudden grip on your arm prevented that.

"I'm trying to gather the words, Y/n. Please, I know I hurt you but could you please be civil for a moment and listen to me?" He wasn't even arguing, the words came out almost a murmur. His eyes were filled with desperation and he was shivering slightly from the cold. It didn't mean you were having it though.

"Civil? Seonghwa, you spent weeks tearing me apart emotionally and now you want civility?" You were also almost whispering, you words sounding harsh.

"I-I want to make things right, I-"

"Let's not forget your little habit of shutting me out whenever I tried to talk about anything important. Are those the words you're having trouble gathering?"

"Maybe I shut you out because every conversation felt like walking through a minefield!" No, no, no, what happened to making things right?

You walked towards him and stood right in front of him, so close, that you could count his eyelashes. "A minefield that you created." You whispered. His eyes turned soft. "There's no way we can go back to how things were, Seonghwa."

He was almost kneeling. "I'm really sorry, y/n. I didn't mean anything I've ever said that hurt you. Please let me try and make it up to you." He looked at you, waiting for something positive, because again, that's who you were.

"Is it the sex?" His eyebrows furrowed.

"What...?"

"Do you just miss having sex with me?" You said, your voice wavering.

"What? Y/n, no-"

"Why then should we get back together if we're just gonna fight all the time? Or are you afraid that this time, someone is walking away from you instead of the other way around, huh?" Seonghwa didn't know what to say. Wasn't it supposed to be easy? Apologize and then the two of you could move on together? He felt himself panicking. No, it can't happen like this. Without even using the little braincells he had when it came to you, he leaned forward and captured your lips in his. You missed this so much that you just gave in to him immediately. The kiss was slow and passionate, unlike the last one.

"Uuumm, so, did they make up?" Wooyoung whispered from where they stood hiding, peeping at the two of you comically like a bunch of cartoon characters.

"I don't think so? They're crying." Yunho whispered.

"That could also be tears of joy, you know." Woo turned to look at Yunho. But nobody had any right to say anything about this topic so they just went silent and continued watching. You know, in case a fight broke out.

You took Seonghwa's cheek into your hand and he circled your waist in his. He was briefly happy, although he was starting to feel that this was probably not the first of many kisses from then on.

You pulled back and stared at him. You shook your head, tears still shining in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Seonghwa."

"No. No, don't apologize-"

"Just sort yourself out, okay? I can't do this with you anymore. Please, don't look for me."

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry-" He tried grabbing at your waist as you began to walk backwards.

"I know."

And then you left. You just walked away the second time. You were tired and needed rest from this all. Even as you walked away, sobbing with a very heavy heart, not sure if you wanted to do this, you were sure that you didn't want to be tired anymore.

Seonghwa just stood there staring at the void. He had fucked up. His feelings for you didn't save him. What was easy about this was that he had easily hurt you. You probably forgave him, which he didn't know, but you were not going to get back with him. Because he did that. He hurt someone he cared about. Someone he was happy with. And why? He couldn't even tell. Was he not ready for a relationship? Or was it actually just the mind-blowing sex? Either way, it didn't matter. He should have just chased after you that night.

"Seonghwa?" He felt two people beside him grabbing his arms. He looked toward his left to Yunho who had called him, he couldn't even see him well because of his hair and the tears.

"Yes, Yunho?" And his friends felt their hearts break at that. They dragged him out of there to their house, forgoing dinner and quietly agreeing to just eat at home. And there was a void within Seonghwa, multiplying the more he took a step out of that alley.

.

.

Hongjoong entered his best friend's room to find him on the bed, his back turned from the door. He realized how skinny he had gotten from his silhouette in the very dark room. Hongjoong didn't even know that his feelings were this strong, enough to have him bedridden most days. He just thought that he was always in his room because they were busy ignoring each other.

"Hwa?" He whispered.

Seonghwa almost cried. The only other person who called him that aside from you.

Hongjoong hesitantly sat on his bed as Seonghwa shifted to look at him. Thank goodness the lights were off. If he had red eyes, he didn't want his friend to see them.

"Are you good?" He asked, as stern as usual. Seonghwa shifted to lay his head on Hongjoong's lap.

"She just left." He choked out, with the last of his strength of the day.

He dragged his hand through his hair. He felt really bad for his friend. And although he was still mad at him, he couldn't have just left him after what he was told by Yunho earlier. So he made himself comfortable on the bed as he heard his best friend sniff over and over again. "I'm tired."

"I know, Hwa."

.

.

That night, Hongjoong ended up spending the night in Seonghwa's room.

.

.

Note (again) : feedback would be appreciated. Don't forget to reblog!

[hyperpotamianarch]

Hello. Today, I'd like to make some random anecdotes about Rabbi Avraham Ibn Ezra - poet, commentator, linguist, mathmatician, probably not too bad at chess and cursed to be poor for the entirety of his life.

After a cursory look at his wikipedia page, I must admit I didn't really know much about his life: only that he was born and raised in Spain, went travelling, had terrible luck with everything, wrote his commentaries on the Torah for money (which I think didn't help with the "cursed to be poor" thing), befriended Rabbenu Tam in France, possibly married the daughter of Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi and promptly died... somewhere... oh, and also wrote lots of poetry in the middle.

Historically speaking, he lived at the end of the Golden Age of Judaism in Spain, around the 11th-12th centuries CE. This puts him right after Rashi - which allows him to snark at everything he thinks Rashi was wrong about, but before Rambam - which means he doesn't get to snark at everything Rambam got wrong. His commentary on the Torah leans a little towards the linguistic side, though he has a couple of other things going on as well, like roasting people he disagrees with (Ben Zuta is the only friend a bull has, anyone?) and dancing around verses he thinks were added later to the Torah, like every time it says "to this very day".

He also wrote one of the first math books in Hebrew - Sefer HaMispar, he wrote a poem about chess, one about how whatever he'll work at he won't get enough money. And generally, he wrote poems. Quite a lot.

I suppose at this point I should mention something: Hebrew linguists were, at the middle ages, predominantly Sepharadi. I mean, sure, there could be a non-Jewish Hebrew linguist, but for some reason I don't hear much about those. And there probably were Ashkenazi linguists, but there weren't many of them. Rashi does deal with linguistics - but half the time he does, it's using the books of two famous Sepharadi linguists. The Sepharadim, living in Muslim lands as they were, simply had a better background with learning Hebrew, since they were surrounded by speakers of a closely related language - Arabic. And Ibn Ezra's deep understanding of Hebrew led to him loving linguistic riddles, which I can never figure out - and I was reading an eddition with footnotes! Though maybe I didn't make enough effort or something.

But no, the reason I wanted to talk about Ibn Ezra was the impossible standards for poetry, as set by Sepharadi poets. You see, Jews were always influenced by their surroundings, in multiple facets. and poetry is definitely one of them. So, the influence from Arab poets includes strict rules for rhythm and - and this is what I actually wanted to talk about - rhyming.

The rythm thing is bad enough. Only once in my life have I tried keeping up with that. It was very, very hard. It's probably because I'm not used to this, but no song I write can keep a consistent rhythm and meter, and that's without trying to apply the standard Sepharadic rules. So trying to have such a strict meter... didn't work well for me. I guess I'm the frenchman from

וּמִי הֵבִיא לְצָרְפַתִּי בְּבֵית שִׁיר,

וְעָבַר זָר מְקוֹם קֹדֶשׁ וְרָמָס;

וְלוּ שִׁיר יַעֲקֹב יִמְתַּק כְּמוֹ מָן,

אֲנִי שֶׁמֶשׁ, וְחַם שִׁמְשִׁי וְנָמָס.

which was actually written about Rabenu Tam, but I'm a distant relative of his so this might still be applicable. Besides, as far as you know my name is Ya'akov, just like Rabenu Tam! (Sorry for not providing a translation, the gist is "how dare a frenchman trample all over poetry?!")

But rhymes. Oh, the Ibn Ezraic rhyming standards.

According to Ibn Ezra, one must always rhyme with the entire syllable. So no, just the last sound isn't enough. In Ibn Ezra's book, rhyme and dime don't actually rhyme - though I don't think he'd care about English at all. For the Ibn Ezra, shor and ḥamor can't be rhymed with each other; shor can rhyme with Mishor, and ḥamor can rhyme with har hamor, but you can't rhyme any other pair of those with each other. And I can't stay up to this challenge. It's nearly always impossible for me to find proper words to rhyme even without the extra demand for the rhyme to be the entire syllable. With English I don't think I even bothered or ever will. You have too many weird syllables for me. But with Hebrew... I do try with Hebrew, really. But I can't keep this up. And the most frustrating thing? It doesn't appear other Ashkenazi writers had this problem.

Now we get to the interesting part. I have been trying lately a new possible format for my very-anticipated-and-definitely-not-only-I-want-it Jewsade fanfic: introduction, preface and Haskamot to books. I just really enjoy reading prefaces for books, and one of my recent favourite pieces of writing is the conclusion piece of the Vilna edition of the Babylonian Talmud. If you're interested - it can be found in most editions of the Talmud at the very end of Masechet Nidah. The piece describes the trouble they went through to publish this edition of the Talmud and it's very interesting. Another favourite piece of mine is the preface of the Levush, a slightly obscure Halachic book from the time of the Shulchan Aruch. If you've ever seen me talk about the race to Halacha - this is my source for that, because the poor author was upstaged about three to four times by other people doing exactly what he planned on doing. I highly recommend this piece as well, though I don't know how easy it is to find. And the Levush - Rabbi Mordechai Yeffe - is a nice Ashkenazi guy. So he must be more lenient with his rhymes, right?

Well, I guess I didn't establish that part. Yes, the preface to the Levush starts with a poem. It's fun. It's great. It's also up to the Ibn Ezraic standard, while my attempt to write an equivalent is... not.

Huh. This post is oddly rambly. Ah well, maybe someone will like it. Anyway, the preface portion that really takes the cake is actually one from a fairly recent obscure book - like, this one was written barely a century ago. I only found it because one of my favourite singers, Aharon Razel, made a song out of it, but the song doesn't really capture the hilarity of the piece. Do ask me if you want to hear more, this one's great.

Signing off with a "darn you, Ibn Ezra! Why must you set such high standards!"

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ platonic, gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

・Boyd already had a son, but Ellis was too angry at him. He barely had anything to do with his father, the Sheriff, no matter how hard Fatima pushed Ellis

・You had entered Fromville by yourself; it was supposed to be your first adventure by yourself and now you were trapped in HELL.

・For the first few days, you were a tiny bit catatonic; anxiety, along with the whole "What could go wrong!" from your family was really messing with your head

・Fatima was the person who showed you a lot of kindness, patience and ways of looking at the town.

・But you came here by yourself, no link to anyone and you felt like 1. an outsider and 2. like the people wouldn't care if anything happened to you

・That was until you were too late getting back to your home in town, the monsters had already pulled up and were doing their creepy business.

・Boyd threw himself straight into action, flinging open the Sheriff Station/Post Office door and grabbing your arm.

"What are you doing out here?! It's DARK!"

"No, I no, I no-"

"So you were trying to get yourself kILLED?!"

"No! I just got carried away at the edge of the forest-"

"The EDGE of the WHAT NOW!"

"No Sheriff, it's okay. It's not like I have any ties here and the probability of me surviving is very low... so..."

・It was in that moment that Boyd decided to unconsiously adopt you.

・He would never let you feel alone again.

・Everyone was going to know you, know your importance.

・Whenever you give your opinion during matters (because you are now in the inner circle - you know more than the regular citizens),

Boyd always holds up a hand before you can talk, "No. You are not putting yourself as bait. Not again."

・Kenny likes you a lot, romantically? Maybe. He's still mixed up about the whole Kristi and Marielle thing.

・Then again, it's not like anyone was going to approach the Sheriff's kid with a romantic offer. Boyd is deeply protective of you.

・Both Jade and Randall have their eyes on you.

・They think you're very unique, smart but also have a boldness that this town had brought out in you.

・Plus you never let either of their quips go without an insult straight back at them

・Ellis, who hadn't been in town for a while, was surprised. A little hurt, but c'mon - deep down he knew he could never be replaced.

・Boyd always makes sure that you're okay, especially when it's just you two at the station. There's one bedroom/cell type place.

・So Boyd made another area just for you, where you had your own bed, a sheet to pull over for privacy and room for all your little trinkets.

・Sometimes he prefers you to sleep in the cell, especially when there's been an incident with the Monsters.

・To get him to open up, you made him play truth or dare once and it was the most fun he's ever had in a while.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Two damaged individuals who attach themselves to each other

"Come Near Them And I Will Fucking End You" (Boyd) x "You Heard The Old Timer!" (You, with the constant old person joke)

You bring him things you find interesting like bugs, rocks, things Mrs Chen let you go look for in the lost and found...

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Found Family

Trustworthy Male Mentor

Father Figure Who Doesn't Realise He's Basically Raising You Until You Call Him Dad

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Beautiful Boy by John Lennon (this doesn't negate from anyone's representation as a woman or non-binary. it's just a beautiful song)

Me and the Devil by Soap and Skin (the original fits here perfectly too)

A Narnian Lullaby by Harry Gregson Williams

[earlycuntsets]

"mikey way

"me and gerard, we're the best friends in the world"

Once again, we meet Mikey Way. But this time this guy talks soooooo much. Hi hi hi! Never thought Mikey could be this chatty!

Long coat and black jeans, that's the outfit worn by Mikey Way when he met W at the Malia Hotel, Thursday afternoon, January 31, 2008. Wow, he looked really neat. But when watching MCR's concert a few hours later, it turned out that Mikey was also wearing the same costume, he he he. It's very clear that his long coat and all-black jeans are not just a style but an important part of his identity.

Anyway… Mikey looked relaxed as he shook hands with W. As a small talk, W of course asked him what he thought about Jakarta. He answered honestly. "So far, great. But I haven't been here long. Only 12 hours, only half a day. So, you know." He said as he took a large white plastic cup of coffee from the table in front of him. His hands looked a little shaky.

Gosh, Mikey, the conversation has become so serious, huh, he he he. W reminds me that the name My Chemical Romance was taken from one of the books Mikey read when he was still working at Barnes & Noble bookstore, namely Ecstasy: Three Tales of Chemical Romance by Irvine Welsh. mentioned by Mikey, here. Wow, it seems so funny to imagine Mikey being a bookworm, huh? Apart from Gerard being the vocalist and frontman of My Chem, he is still Mikey's 'big brother'. So, let's just start asking about Gerard, shall we?

Mmm, maybe we can start with a question that's not too direct, huh…

What's the most annoying thing about Gerard?

"Him? There's nothing bad about him. Even if there's something annoying, it makes me love him even more. Ha ha. Even if there's something bad about him, it's endearing. Gera is a very talented and admirable individual."

What is the annoying side of you in Gerard's eyes?

"Me? Well, I don't know. Ha ha. Maybe you guys better ask Gerard directly, haha ​​ha."

Have you two ever fought?

"We have. It's natural. But not too often. In a few years maybe."

Can you tell us a little bit about how you and Gerard are actually brothers? what kind?

"We're the best friends in the world. We always hang out together. We always talk. Especially when we're on tour, we always share a room in a hotel. only once we fought, ha ha ha. We barely fight."

Do you still have time to read a book?

"Yes, I still am. Right now I'm reading Needful Things by Stephen King. This is actually my second time reading it, he he he."

Wow, you really like horror stories, huh?

"Ha ha ha, yes. I like horror novels and also horror movies. Stephen King is a great horror writer. Many of his books are horror themed. I really like Stephen King."

From early on, it seemed like Gerard did most of the talking.

"I only talk when necessary. Not only me, Frank, Bob and Ray have also. But more often than not we have to take care of our own musical instruments, so we leave that responsibility to Gerard, he he he."

Totally agree, Mikey Unfortunately, Gerard isn't there, hu hu hu!

On stage, Gerard is the same. Have you ever joined in the conversation with the audience?

"Well, yes sure. I have."

Anyway, really happy to chat with you. Lately, MCR has been using piano players a lot at concerts, huh?

"We do everything like other big bands do."

Are there plans to make James Dewees a permanent member of MCR?

Oh, James. He's already become My Chem family member since ama. Even though he is not a member of MCR, he is our friend. We have also known him for a long time. Besides, we like the sound of our concert piano. So, we keep using it.

Why, the hell, is the sound of the piano so important to MCR?

"Piano is the basis for all music. Since we know a cool piano player like James Dewees, we might as well include him in the line-up. Unfortunately, James is currently at sound check, so he can't be here."

My Chem, that's how Mikey shortens the name My Chemical Romance. Frankly, W also knows nothing, he he he. When asked when My Chem (yikes, I'm following Mikey) will release a new album, Mikey said it would be around early or mid 2009. Wow, that's still quite a long time away, huh. When W asked about My Chem's three previous albums, this guy remained enthusiastic, cas cis cus.(?)

Tell us about the metamorphosis from the first to the third album…

"Sure sure"

Album: Bullets

"We were still very young. We were in our early 20s and we had only been in the band for about 10 months. Every song that was created at that time was indeed in accordance with our condition at that time. If you listen to it, you will definitely feel the nuances of My Chem now. The songs on the first album are like 'the younger brother of The Black Parade,

Is the creative process different?

"Let's see… The first album, / was really green, he he he. Gerard was also very young. We felt more spontaneous. The second album, Three Cheers… was more mature, more aggressive. The longer it went on, the clearer it became in The Black Parade. The difference was probably with the presence of Bob on drums. He is one of the phenomenal drummers. Many people say so. Because of Bob, The Black Parade seemed touching on many musical genres."

What if someone says that The Black Parade sounds smoother than previous albums?

"Technically, yes. The first album was made in the basement. The sound was rough. But eventually we had a bigger studio and had more time to prepare the material."

adhika annisa, marti photo: yudha

08/2008 kawanku (indonesia) from mcrhollywood

english translation done by google translate

[kusakabesimp]

Is Kusakabe Conventionally Attractive?

I was recently asked if Kusakabe is conventionally attractive. The short answer is yes. But you know how I am, so here's your 1K word essay on why he is on every level, from the obvious to the subtle and everything in between.

Let's start with the physical. From a scientific perspective, facial symmetry is linked to notions of masculinity and good health -- traits our brains are subconsciously hardwired to find appealing. Kusakabe’s face is sharp, symmetrical, and effortlessly striking. But let's dive deeper. Because the symmetry is what grabs your attention, but his amazing features are what holds it.

Gege draws Kusakabe with very distinctive eyebrows (thank you, Gege). While this may seem random, eyebrows play a significant role in facial aesthetics and attractiveness, especially for men. They provide a frame that influences how Kusakabe's other facial features, such as his eyes, jawline, and cheekbones, are perceived. Also, eyebrows are crucial for non-verbal communication; thicker, well-shaped eyebrows amplify expressions, making Kusakabe appear more charismatic and assertive.

Ah, that jawline — broad, angular, and sharp enough to cut glass. Going back to the science, studies link angular jawlines to higher levels of testosterone, which are associated with traits like strength and dominance. HELLO, DOMINANCE OKAY (Look, I'm not making this up; I read a whole 2018 evolutionary psychology paper on this.)

And we can't talk about Kusakabe's jawline without also mentioning his amazing, magnificent cheekbones. When both of these features are well-defined, they contribute to a strong, chiseled look that’s often considered the hallmark of conventionally attractive male faces. As the jawbone draws the eye up, the cheekbones fix the gaze on the center of the face, giving the viewer a second chance to admire his facial symmetry. Even more science! Skin loses elasticity as we age, so bone structure isn't as noticeable. Higher and sharper cheekbones are perceived to be a sign of youth and vitality. Though Kusakabe is in his mid-thirties, he's still looking young and FINE AF.

Basically, symmetry is the framework, and Kusakabe's features are the elegant finishing touches on a masterpiece.

Kusakabe definitely takes care his skin, and while that’s not a defined feature like the nose or mouth, it still plays a huge role in how people perceive his appearance and appeal. His skin is smooth, with a faint golden undertone from all the time he spends outside fishing. Its the kind of complexion that shows he's in good health and has a top-notch skincare routine he’ll probably never admit to having.

His hairstyle is a little outdated, but it can be considered conventionally attractive because it is well-maintained; the effort behind it indicates he is mindful of how he presents himself.

Is Kusakabe confident and conscious enough to go to Sephora? Drop cash at a high-end salon? Yes, he absolutely is.

His self-care extends to the way he keeps his body in peak condition. He’s in the dojo every day, no matter what he's practicing. And while he’s built broad, with those delicious strong shoulders, under that gi is a man whose lean muscles are toned to perfection.

His attention to detail also extends to his style. The care he puts into his appearance reflects an understanding of how to dress to highlight his best features. The tailored shoulder line, tapered waist, and notched lapels of his suit work together to accentuate his broad chest and torso. This cut creates a sculpted, V-shaped look. (I call it the 'reverse Dorito' because it looks like one, see? ▽). The notched lapel is a modern, classic fit that can easily be dressed up or down because, well, my man is practical.

His trenchcoat is worn open, but it is a really nice coat. It also has a notched lapel, but the notch is deeper. This fit, like his suit, is designed to complement his features. The cut subtly directs attention up to his jawline, a smart choice for his face shape. Plus, it’s perfect for someone both tall and broad, accentuating his frame without trying to make himself look larger than he already is.

Now, let’s shift focus to some of Kusakabe’s emotional traits that also make him conventionally attractive. His leadership mentality is something that naturally draws people toward him. Over the course of the manga, we saw him grow into someone who earned respect without the need to force it. During the meetings for backup plans for Sukuna's fight, for example, he wasn’t just participating; he was leading the discussion from the front. Getting a group of sorcerers to work together couldn't have been easy, but Kusakabe made it look effortless.

His deep love for those around him (despite his attempts to say otherwise) is the driving force behind his dedication to protecting them. Throwing hands with the King of Curses wasn’t about winning; it was about protecting the people who mattered to him, even if it meant sacrificing himself.

Kusakabe isn't just visually attractive — everything about him is. His sharp features and impeccable style stand out, but what really makes him unforgettable is his quiet strength, leadership, and selflessness. It's the balance of confidence and compassion that truly defines his hotness presence.

[ink-stainedkiss]

This isn't necessarily a request (unless you like the idea😍) but i am WEAK for saiki kusuo being happy and laughing, as ooc as it sounds IDC HES MY BABY AND HES HUMAN THEREOFRE I CONCLUDE THIS BOY CAN HAVE HIS DAILY DOSE OF GIGGLES.

Like, i read the fic you made on saiki finding readers thoughts funny, and i BAJDJSJAJDBS I SQUEALED.

Just imagining him breaking character, or AUDIBLY laughing, is so so sweet bro im not even joking. He'd only ever be comfortable doing it infront of his mom probably, or his close friends. EVEN SO.

Just needed to get it off my chest. 🙂 if you ever make more fics with happy/giggly saiki i might actually marry you. 🙂🙂🙂

This one goes specifically to you queen😍 and No. I’m going to marry you🫵😼

Missing You

Synopsis: Saiki starts to feel a bit weird when you are out and he realizes he misses you. Now to find a way to get you home faster…

Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! I hope you all had a great time because I sure did. Sorry my activity has been a little slow these past days have been busier than expected, so this one’s going to be a bit short. Also thank you all for the likes on my later posts! It feels so amazing to see you guys enjoying my other works. Anyways, please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff of our beloved Saiki💕

“You on the phone”

“Saiki on the phone”

*Saiki is wearing his telepathy blocking ring in this, so he's speaking normally*

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k

Everyone knew that Saiki was not a dependent person. He was the furthest thing from it. He loved his alone time- actually scratch that. He craved alone time. It was just his luck that he was always surrounded by people that caused him so much mental pain. To Saiki’s surprise, he had found someone he tolerated. Well it was more than that, but you guys were just friends, so he couldn’t say anything. He realized you were the only one that didn’t put Saiki through a problem which he had to solve. There were no long adventures when you talked to him in the halls. No using his powers to fix something you had done. He was able to act perfectly normal around you. Which is why he grew such an affection toward you. He grew so comfortable that he told you about his abilities and like he expected you took it well.

Today was one of his favorite days. Where he was able to hang around your home without a care in the world. Whatever his friends were up to outside of your house was not Saiki’s business, nor did he care about it. He had developed a routine when you text him to come over. He would arrive at your house, wear his germanium ring and let his worries wash away. It was the closest thing he could get to being a normal teenager and he was damn sure going to use his time wisely. Whenever Saiki stayed at your home, you would ask to do something, nothing crazy. Something simple like baking a batch of cookies, watching a movie on the couch, or if you were very bored, you would ask to do Saiki’s hair, which he never denied. Because, well, it was you. How could he say no?

Today was a bit different. You had mentioned you needed to run some errands and you promised you would back around noon. Saiki was fine with this since it meant he would have the house to himself. You trusted him greatly so you didn’t mind if he stuck around while you were out. When you left he gave a small nod and then the house was silent. Today was very different because something felt off. He had been reading a book on your shelf out of interest, but for the past five minutes, he had been rereading the same sentence over and over. Something was tugging in his head, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong.

Today was different because he felt so off without you in the same room as him. He checked the clock, realizing I had only been an hour and a half since you left. You wouldn’t be back until later, so Saiki had to find something to distract himself. Today was different because tried to cure his “boredom” with his powers. He turned on your kitchen sink, watching blankly as he made shapes and animals out of the liquid. When that didn’t stop the tugging, he moved onto your room. He felt slightly better resting on your bed and he played it off as being tired, but no. When he kept checking the clock to see if it was any closer to noon, he came to the horrifying conclusion that he missed you.

It was such a foreign feeling. Saiki? Wanting someone to be around him? Well that’s what happens when you sneak your way into his heart. The psychic couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his phone, clicking on your contact and placing the device to his ear. The small buzzing reached his ear and he felt a small fragment of relief when you answered after the second ring.

“Hey Saiki, what’s up?”

He sighed, a bit humiliated he felt this way.

“Nothing.”

“Then did you need something?”

“When are you going to be home?”

He said home like he lived here with you, but if you minded, you didn’t make it obvious.

“I should be there in maybe three hours.”

That did not help.

“Can you get here sooner?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“Yes.”

Might as well since there isn’t anything else getting you here faster. Saiki thought.

A small gasp sounded through the speaker, “I thought you said nothing was happening?”

“Just get here fast.”

And with that he hung up the phone.

—

You raced to your house, hoping you wouldn’t find it in ashes or hit by a tornado. Maybe you were being dramatic, but why would Saiki call you and tell you to come home quickly? It was shocking that you didn’t get pulled over at the pace you were driving home. When you pulled onto your street, you were thankful to not see any smoke, but that didn’t make you slow down. You slammed to a stop in your driveway, panic flooding your veins. You unlocked your door at lightning speed and the second it was open, you called out,”I’m here! What happened?!”

You shut the door behind you, scanning for some sort of danger, but you find your house was still intact. You were so confused. You were expecting some sort of freak accident with Saiki’s powers, but everything was in place.

“Nothing wrong.”

You whipped around, finding Saiki had teleported behind you. You blinked in confusion,”What are you talking about? You told me to get here quick and I-“ “I lied.” Your arms dropped at your side in defeat,”Then why am I here right now?” He gave you an emotionless stare,”Because I wanted you to be.”

Still in shock, you looked around, finding a scattered book on your couch. It was odd because Saiki is always the one to be neat. You turned to the boy, noticing how he was hardly making eye contact with you and he clearly wanted to say more. You recalled his words over the phone, then it all clicked.

“Saiki,” your words were barely above a whisper,”Did you miss me?”

The things that happened next were a blur. In the blink of an eye two arms were wrapping around you and you could feel Saiki’s head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t respond to your question, but this was enough to answer it. Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Was this really the same Saiki? The one who barely let people stand close to him, was holding onto you like a lifeline. You felt a long sigh escape his lips and instinctively you reached one hand up to rest in his pink hair and the other embracing him over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know how else to get you here.” He confessed gently, making your heart melt,”You could have just asked, Kusuo.” He tucked himself more into your neck, almost hiding his face from you,”But you were busy.” You rolled your eyes, “It was just getting groceries, I would have dropped everything if I knew you wanted me here.”

Saiki didn’t know how to respond, instead he used his teleportation to take you both to your room. You let out a grunt as you back hit your mattress, but your attention changed to the boy resting on you. He looked so at peace and you couldn’t believe this was still the same person. (It’s not like you were complaining.) As you softly played with his pink hair, a small idea popped into your head. Maybe I should go out more often if this is what I get to come home too…

[depravityfever]

warning for yan content and aventurine being annoying

“I didn’t realize you were so fond of Christmas.”

You don’t know what your reaction should be upon seeing the sight when you flickered on the lights. The decorations are minimal, a few lights and a decorated tree, but those aren’t what catch your attention. It’s caught by the dozens of presents, all neatly wrapped in various designs of paper and tied together with flowing ribbons. Atop each box rests an identical gift tag reading the same text:

From Aventurine

To [First]

“Ofcourse, I’d never miss a chance to spoil you.” You bite back the remark that that has never seemed limited to holidays with him. “And besides,” he continues, “Christmas is the season of giving. Did you expect me to let you celebrate empty handed?”

The irony makes you huff. Having taken so much from you, he doesn’t have the right to talk about giving anymore. Even if you sold all the gifts he’d gotten you throughout the time he’s forced you spend with him, you’re sure it still wouldn’t be enough to pay for all the damage caused by being in close proximity to him for such an extended period of time.

He knows you don’t care about the gifts he gives you, far too bitter towards him to care about material goods anymore, and you know he knows, but you decide to voice it anyway.

“I don’t want any of this,” you say, “especially considering it’s coming from you.” You cross your arms and give him a pointed stare to solidify your words, but they don’t seem to affect his uplifted demeanor.

“You wound me. I’m just trying to get you into the Christmas spirit.” He’s pouting, but you can tell he isn’t actually hurt. “If you’re really not interested, then I can offer you something else instead.”

“I’m not interested.”

“If you can win a single game of heads or tails, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of Christmas. How does that sound?”

Even if you don’t want to play along with his games, the offer is too enticing to turn down. You nod and he gives an amused smile. The coin boasting his signature colors is tossed into the air and then caught. “Tails,” you say, filled with determination. He pulls his hand away to reveal the result, showing …

Heads.

You visibly deflate, much to Aventurine’s amusement. “A game with only one round can be pretty disappointing,” he admits, “How about a retry?” Even if he seems confident, the odds are clearly in your favor. How hard can winning one round be?

“Toss it again."

Heads.

“Again.”

Heads.

“... Again.”

Heads.

You can’t help but groan, earning you a chuckle as he pockets the coin back into his coat. “It’s not funny!” is your irritated response. “I'm sorry.” “You don’t sound very sorry.” “It seems luck is on my side today. We’ll have to spend Christmas together after all.”

You scoff but don’t give any further reaction. While you’re still moping over the results of your coin toss, Aventurine must decide it’s funny to rub some salt in the wounds. He rummages in his pocket until he finds his desired object and holds it above his and your head.

“Mistletoe.”

It takes every fibre in your being to resist the urge to punch him.

[asarigg]

Body for Sale: a second reading of a disturbing past (csa)

Well, this part of the essay is the one where I imply a possible sexual assault towards Koujaku when he was a teenager, but since I was hesitant at first of talking more about it because I didn't want to be insensitive I made it shorter than originally intended. I was encouraged to expand a little bit on it, so I edited it. Since the post is already kinda long, I thought of doing a separate post for those interested. Please don't hesitate to correct me if you deem it needed.

I’ve sometimes wondered if there was some sort of sexual abuse on Ryuuhou’s part towards Koujaku. Nothing is implied canonically, at least physically, but the erotic connotations of the story of the tattoo artist he’s based on, the sadism, the drugging in order to do something non-consensually, and his constant references to love make me think of it happening on a symbolic level. I think it’s obvious that Ryuuhou loves Koujaku, in his own way, as his creation, and he’s talking about love at first sight and the similarity of love and hate. Besides, the way Koujaku acts can be easily associated with it.

Even though he appears to be charming and flirty, he actually has a very low self-esteem, seeing himself as worthless, dirty, and constantly self-blaming for what happened. His tattoo being his shame and filth, something he doesn’t want to taint Aoba with, works just as an allegory of victims so commonly feeling guilty and dirty (causing them to shower more regularly than before in an attempt to wash it away). He shows unconformity when Aoba wants to touch him in bed (something that with time and the support of a loved one gets a little better), and when he tries to touch and wash away his dirt, his shame, his tattoo, Koujaku jumps at contact, which could also be interpreted as having a flashback as part of his ptsd.

All the anger he feels inside could also be part of the consequences. And he mostly shows his hatred towards Ryuuhou, even though his father is supposedly still alive and was the one who did the most damage to them, especially his mother, whom he cared about the most. At the end of the day Ryuuhou “just” did the tattoo and his father has been treating them like that for years. So why does he tunnel all his rage only to him? Budget and time limit reasons? Maybe, but in this essay we’re not taking that. Obviously Ryuuhou was the one that made him lose it, torturing him ever since the beginning only to anger him, ultimately causing the death of his mother. Maybe he was too used to see his father being aggressive with them, something to be expected, kind of like how it's established that men are more violence driven and women are emotion driven. But it can also be read as the response Koujaku had to a possible abuse. Physical punishment was to be expected, but sexual abuse?

Ryuuhou took advantage of his situation, to stop him from resisting he could always use his mother. We’ve already seen Ryuuhou being referenced as male and Koujaku as the female counterpart, being lovers and enemies at the same time, with the female being associated with the powerless, abused victim, submissive, and being controlled by the male, as disgusting as it sounds. Ever since he was tattooed his body did not belong to him anymore, Ryuuhou made sure to mark his body and mind so that he could never forget him. He could have found refuge in his religious practices as well.

There’s always stigma around these cases, and the stigma around male victims makes it especially harder for them to speak about what happened to them. That sense of powerlessness, of losing control, of being less of a man, causing them having trouble with their identity, all of it is wrapped in toxic masculinity. And all of this is seen in Koujaku. He keeps all his feelings for himself, feeling distant from other people and engaging in a lonely way of life.

There are people that report having trouble with their relationships with others not only because of the trauma that happened to them, but also out of fear of doing that very same thing to someone else.

This traumatic event usually makes victims apprehensive of any sexual activity, but there’s a considerable large number of victims that, opposite to this, develop hypersexuality. His sexual life is more important to Koujaku's character than it may seem at first (like it's just a quirk of him), he sees his body as a tool for the pleasure of others, meanwhile his own pleasure is not important. He developed an unhealthy way of interacting with others, therefore he developed unhealthy sexual practices. This view of him being sort of a prostitute isn’t so far away. Flame Willow, the part of Platinum Jail they end in, pretty much looks like a red light district. It’s introduced as a place for “passionate folks to get their thrills”, an euphemism.

He also smokes and drinks, which are not talked about a lot as an addiction to cope with his pain. In the Drama CD though they do talk about it as a way to escape the stress he’s facing because of the Tamaokuri, so we can assume that he uses these two and possibly developed an addiction, wanting to drink until blacking out to forget for a moment.

Even if the sexual abuse didn’t happen canonically, the metaphor is as close as it can be, so it’s in your hands how you want to see it. Even if it’s hard to talk about something like this, I really like how this was built, because something that isn’t sexual abuse (at least canonically, and I wonder if the allegory was intentional or not) actually feels like it, something that changed a person’s entire life, his perception of himself and the people he interacts with, an event with an actual weight, something I missed from literally any actual SA scene that we got in the rest of the game.

[old-skyguy]

Look.

Ace Attorney fandom.

I know why people don't like Turnabout Bigtop. I am among the people who dislike Turnabout Bigtop.

But I GET why people like the case. I'm not going to be one of those annoying people who just blindly dump on it because I hate those mfs too.

Thing about Bigtop isn't that it sucks. Thing isn't the weird grooming stuff (though that is a huge part of it). It's not that it could've been good.

It's that - in my personal OPINION - it could have been *great*.

I think it had the potential to be one of the best third cases in the trilogy. It had everything; a fun and goofy setting fit for a pretty dang goofy lawyer game - where the environment itself had jokes and quips and one-liners and mishaps and tomfoolery written all over it, it had the previous case introducing a very interesting and important plotline that gave background for one of the more well-loved characters while also introducing an equally fucked up and lovable new one who was a child forced into a shit childhood of naivete in a CIRCUS with another character who was very naive and childish - whose interactions could have been funny and cute and reflective of said shit from the previous case (seriously she becomes such an important character in the 4th case, WHY would they not include her in this one for some character development? How did they fuck up letting a CHILD explore a CIRCUS?? That would have made the interactions flow MUCH better).

They had a pretty good, sympathetic killer imo, a morally dubious victim, an asshole of a client (who was pretty flat admittedly in-game, but I like his weird, topsy-turvy reasoning for it in the anime. Also, I think Max being kinda a dick would have bode well for the themes of Farewell since most of his clients up to this point have been like...nice? Not nice, but sympathetic, but him having to defend someone who's innocent but a prick would have shown him that just because someone is an asshole, doesn't mean they deserve to suffer for it and that they have the potential to grow as people, which is almost a complete foil to what Matt was. Ultimately, I would have loved the contrast of them as clients and I think it would have also served as character development for Phoenix, especially with his low-empathy tendencies).

They just didn't think that far ahead. They just didn't execute it well enough. They just decided to make three of the adult characters fight for the hand in marriage of a teenage girl. (Bat's part of the story was actually kinda good if he was just YOUNGER, I think him doing that for Regina would have been a stupid thing someone in the circus would do to impress their crush. Damn you Ace Attorney and your weird treatment of underage girls!!)

It just flopped and that's ok.

Even though it kinda sucked, it can still mean something to me.

Also I'm a Moe Curls apologist. I liked him, shut up.