#what HAVE i done this year. besides buy an instrument.

[supercantaloupe]

i'll be honest i'm looking back on last year and i'm having a very hard time saying it was like. A Good Year or whatever

i feel like anything i did that was really An Accomplishment was either really cringe or too small to be worth anything tbh. and none of my failures were very big either sure but they add up a whole lot more don't they

[tihgnari]

✮ 03. not my favorite (ღ)

tw: none / wc: 1k

"mom, no way," you beg, looking at her exasperated across the kitchen as she takes out the leftover containers. "you can't do this to me on my first day back. you will not subject me to this torture."

your mother is in her sleepwear, hair already in rollers with the korean face mask you gave her earlier already stuck on her face. she laughs at you, taking out all the leftovers from earlier's late dinner. "oh, stop being dramatic. you act as if you didn't grow up with those boys."

"but it's —"

"no buts," she cuts you off. "besides, just welcome them over. let them eat the remaining stuff, i'm sure they'll finish everything. i also heard kazuha's coming over, which is rare because it's usually always just the three boys swinging by here after their gigs to put back their stuff in the garage… so…" she drags out the last vowel of her sentence, looking at you suggestively. "maybe he's here to see you! not every day his childhood best friend comes back to town."

"mom, please —"

"they have a new guy in the band, too, by the way — well, second new guy after the other one left. his name's kuni, the poor guy moved here with his uncle when his father, his last parent, passed away two years ago and he had to stop college, can you imagine how hard that is? i wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"who even is the source of that gossip —"

"you go get ei and miko over there and just, hang out, you know? buy some drinks for all i care, i trust you. make friends, make memories, make the summer count, okay?"

at this point, she's done putting everything out of the fridge. she crams most of them in your tiny microwave, unintentionally doing what she initially asked you to do and why she pulled you out of watching a netflix movie with the gays in the living room. after you sense she's done with her little speech, you approach her, putting the remaining containers into the tiny device. your mother offers you a tight hug and a kiss goodnight, and you let her because you know she hasn't done that in a while.

your mother scurries back to her bedroom after muttering a quick "so glad my baby's back," and you finish putting the containers in rows of three on the kitchen island.

how do you say 'no' to that?

—

"YN!"

"AETHER!"

"YN!"

ALBEDO!"

you let out a delighted shriek as they tackle you in a hug, genuinely happy to see them after a few years. the van with their belongings is pulled up at the back of the house, for easy access to the garage — which, you learned from your mom, is where they've been practicing since last year after she offered it to the boys — "well, it was empty and no one was using it anyway, so why not?"

albedo and aether practically jumped out of their respective seats at the front of the van in their excitement. with their blonde locks flailing about, you're awfully reminded of golden retrievers that are happy to see their favorite person back after a long day. "so nice to see you guys again! how have you guys been? you both have gotten so handsome i can't believe you guys actually had it in you!"

"and you're still shabby yourself!" the three of you laugh as aether retaliates immediately, ever quick-witted and sharp-tongued.

"ah, well," albedo starts. "same old kids in the past, just playing smaller instruments. we finally became regulars at nowhere, so you should definitely come to our gigs sometime!"

you gasp. "no way, that's great! you guys have been waiting for a consistent gig for so long! how did you guys do it?"

"well —"

"i convinced them," a fourth voice says, butting into the conversation as you hear his boots hit the gravel and a car door shutting. "the owner adores his only daughter, and his daughter unfortunately adores me… so, it wasn't that hard to convince her, really."

you catch his innuendo and it makes you roll your eyes. "not even five seconds after seeing you again and i already remember why i hate you."

you turn around from the two boys and there he is in all his glory. kazuha laughs, pulling you in for a hug that you do not return. you keep your arms strictly across your chest as you turn your head away from him in disgust.

"oh, don't be like that to your favorite."

flabbergasted by what you hear, you look at him challengingly, the close proximity nearly catching you off guard. "you're not my favorite."

kazuha smiles.

"say that without blushing, and maybe i'll believe you."

a silence entails you both, neither one backing away from the intense eye contact until — "oh! yn, meet our new drummer, kuni!"

thank you, albedo.

you pull away from kazuha like he's a walking plague, straightening yourself to meet the guy your mother was talking about. his name sounds familiar as she often mentions him fleetingly when you text, only earlier at the kitchen did she actually take the time to introduce him and give him a proper introduction.

"hello, nice to meet you," he says. kuni's handsome, that was your first impression. from the way he carries himself, you know he's the calmer one in the band. from texts exchanged with your mom alone, you inferred he's helping your mom run the flower shop.

"i heard about you," you offer a handshake. "you help my mom run the shop, correct?"

"yeah," he takes your hand. "why, is there a problem?"

you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "well, if that's the case i owe you! thanks for helping out my mom, especially when i'm not always here."

kuni slowly smiles, "it's a pleasure, really."

you usher the misguided boys back to the house to offer them something to eat after helping them put their stuff in the garage, and through all that, a certain someone's ruby red eyes can't put a finger on how his bandmate looked at you — like a spark of interest broke through that usual air of nonchalance to him.

well, that's something you don't see everyday.

BAD BLOOD » previous : masterlist : next

a genshin impact band au w select characters

summary — you thought you'd be spending summer break helping at your mom's flower shop or attending kazuha's gigs, but the last thing you expect is to be caught in the crossfire of two band vocalists who hate each other's guts with a burning passion.

note — kazuha and yn's dynamics are so fun to write lmao

🏷️ OPEN! @raidenshogunmommy @arealistonao3 @kazumiku @kur0kki @quacking-simp @rifran @deffenferofjustice @keiiqq @solelial @rvoulte @monikidk @animeobsessed56 @siluc @miy-svz @aries-afk @potteraep @cindywasneverhere @moonjellyfishie @cridtiins @yoruunight @kunihaver @meigalaxy @vyvixen @riabriyn @v4mpess @kamisstufff @pluviwinkle @sp1ng @smhpunkacademic

[spell-cleaver]

Portrait of an Empire

Angstober

Day 26: Persuasion

Vader was still injured and limping when he came to see Sheev. The damage their fight had done to him was made more obvious by the strain Luke’s flight had put on him, and he looked more pathetic than ever when he joined Sheev on the balcony beside his throne room.

Sheev could not draw pleasure from it. He felt pathetic himself. It was disgusting.

“You have heard his demands,” Vader said. It was not a question.

Sheev looked disdainfully over Vader’s weak and trembling form, then back out over the balcony’s view. The sun was setting over Coruscant. It was beautiful, according to all the artists and poets who had ever beheld it. All Sheev had ever seen when he saw the crimson clouds was blood.

But that wasn’t true, was it?

That was the curse Luke had forced on him. The ability to see through another’s eyes—not to manipulate, but just to understand. He thought of that useless crystal Luke had made him buy in the market, so many years ago. He thought of the fact that he still kept it. Not under his pillow, as he was meant to. But he kept it, all the same.

Sheev wondered, now, what it was that Luke saw looking at the sunset. It would be different to what he saw when he had been younger. Sheev did not understand his grandson as well as he once did.

“I cannot accede to them; You must realise that. This Empire is forever.”

Vader, unexpectedly, agreed with him. “It is the only way to maintain peace in the galaxy.”

Of course Vader would think that, in hindsight. It was Sheev who had taught him that.

“This is the pinnacle of the Sith. We are the greatest of our line. And we have waited thousands of years for this victory. I cannot scupper it for a child!”

“The Empire is forever,” Vader repeated. “Will we be?”

Sheev cut him an irritated glance. “What?”

“Will you live forever? Will Luke?”

“That is the prize of all Sith,” he snapped. “Eternal life.”

“Luke will not be a Sith. It hurts him.” Vader said it matter-of-factly. No fury. No protective vigour. He knew his son, it seemed.

Had he spoken to him? Where had this contemplative nonsense come from? Vader was a blunt instrument. Hammers did not philosophise

“It hurts me,” Vader added. He gestured to his broken body. “Being Sith is meant to hurt.”

“It brings power.”

“The power does not prevent the hurt.” A beat. “Has it hurt you, master?”

Sheev rounded on Vader so fiercely he was sure his eyes blazed. But Vader, for once in his measly life, did not flinch.

“Why do you do it?” he demanded, fearless and frustrating. “What are the Sith for?”

“Power!”

“What is power for? I have burned my life and my loves for the Sith, for this empire,” Vader continued heatedly, “so tell me what it is for!”

“I built this empire for—” But he stopped.

Revenge. He’d wanted the Jedi dead.

Influence. He hated kowtowing to lesser beings than himself.

Prestige. He was the greatest Sith that ever lived. Everyone else should recognise that.

Every reason he uttered to himself was so inane.

So… pointless.

“To bring peace,” he bit out, “to the galaxy.”

“I cannot speak for the rest of the galaxy,” Vader said. “But Luke is not at peace.”

Sheev let out a breath.

“No,” he said. “He is not.”

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 2-4

Chapter 2: Summer preparations.

Part 4

Prev || Next

Basketball club practice is held inside the gym for the most part, but they use the outdoor space for warm-up runs.

They can hear the wind instruments club tuning and practicing marches, and it feels like they have their own personal pep band.

Although they keep hydrated, warm sweat flows freely.

While squinting against the blazing sunlight, Kagiura thinks of Hirano’s bright blonde hair.

Dyed blonde despite his position in the student council, Hirano’s hair is unfortunately quite damaged. It suits him so well, though.

And the small earrings that normally adorn his earlobes are as of yet still missing in action.

Although it’s already been a week, Hirano seems unconcerned; as such, Kagiura is the more worried of the two.

If the piercings are healthy, they won’t easily close up, but they’re still technically wounds, so they’ll undoubtedly shrink if left unattended.

Hirano had told him they’re his first piercings, so Kagiura had asked “shouldn’t you hurry up and put something in them?”, to which Hirano had replied, “If I took them out at the same time, I should find them sooner or later”, and seemed content to leave well enough alone.

While he took shelter in the gym, mopping his sweaty face with the towel hanging around his neck, Kagiura thought about what color earrings would look good on Hirano.

His image of Hirano’s personal clothing is vague, since he only sees him in loungewear.

He would be able to see them on the weekend, but Kagiura’s days off are dedicated to club activities, so his chances to see him are few and far between.

At school, when he’s wearing his uniform, most of the time they don’t end up running into each other. In the mornings, Hirano wakes up first and even wakes Kagiura up, but even Hirano wouldn’t wear his uniform that early in the morning.

He returns to the dorm earlier than Kagiura, and by the time Kagiura gets home, he has long since changed into loungewear.

That’s why going the traditional route of choosing ones that will easily coordinate with his usual clothing is easier said than done.

Besides, we don’t have any free time before summer vacation to go buy some together.

So what is he supposed to do?

Kagiura tried to figure out where to go from there, but before long, the rest of the club members finished their run and foundational practice began.

If your head is in the clouds, it won’t be long before you get injured.

He had taken that concept to heart, so it only took a moment for him to switch gears and focus on practice.

It’s strange; when he gets in the zone, he doesn’t even care about getting sweaty. He can’t even tell if the wind instrument club’s performance is still audible from outside, through the gym doors that are closed to conserve their pathetically weak air conditioning.

The application review for the plan selection qualifiers went by without a hitch, and they passed through the second round of judging immediately afterwards with flying colors.

Niibashi is doing just as well as anticipated—in fact, he is going above and beyond. The presentation he gives with a smile brimming with confidence is overwhelmingly effective, and his preparation is immaculate.

They deliberately address the open question of food safety measures, and are now at the stage where they’ll probably be able to get a space in the courtyard or somewhere else that can accommodate their customers.

They were able to get through the research in just a few days thanks to their 2nd and 3rd year acquaintances, so they’re grateful. 

Normally, upperclassmen make good use of their past experiences and prepare for the cultural festival ahead of time. That’s why it’s difficult for ill-prepared first years to win real estate in the courtyard, or so they’re told, but they faced their audition with such flawlessness that it was hard to believe they had completed it in such a rush.

Niibashi is excessively skilled at networking, so their stock of materials piles up with the help of other classes, and just like that Kagiura and the other two assistants take a back seat.

In contrast to the energy of the executive committees from the other classes with passionate appeals, the student council, who are in charge of the judging, are, to put it nicely, relaxed.

To put it not so nicely, their reactions are deadpanned, by which Kagiura was caught off guard.

One would think that the student council at a school where independence is so highly valued would be filled with the type of people who like planning things, but the student council president, Touou, seems to be the high-strung type.

As expected from someone who serves as the student council president as a second year, he’s used to directing others, and he even has a certain dignity about him as he subjects each proposal to a barrage of questions from on high, yet he doesn’t seem to enjoy doing so.

There was one other thing that was unexpected.

Which is that, the sometimes excessive amounts of nitpicking by the latter notwithstanding, Niibashi is actively involved with Touou.

I wonder if they’re good friends? Kagiura wonders, but he wouldn’t want to put a damper on them when they seemed to be enjoying themselves, so he bites his tongue.

*****

It isn’t long before summer vacation, so there were only morning classes today.

The gym is undergoing inspections and can’t be used, and the advisors are absent for training, so the coaches are also taking the day off, which means the basketball club isn’t meeting today.

That’s just fine by them, as it gives the first year club members the chance to go to a sports shop to purchase new shoes, which Kagiura, as a veteran, is happy to give recommendations for.

This shop is familiar with their school placing orders for uniforms, and they’re glad that the proprietor memorizes their faces and supports them even though they’re still just first years. Apparently he’s even come to see their practice matches.

His heart bounces on his way home, thinking he’ll ask Hirano about it too.

Despite eating lunch and going shopping, he still gets back much earlier than usual, and it’s not yet 3 o’clock. Even if he does his homework, time is just crawling by today.

“I’m home!”

There’s no response to his statement as he swings the door open.

“Huh…?”

Inside, Hirano’s bag is missing, as if he hasn’t come home yet.

Maybe he’s at a committee meeting, he thinks while he spreads a sheet out on the floor and begins tending to his club equipment.

After more or less cleaning up, he starts on his homework, imitating the self-study techniques Hirano had taught him.

If he could see this, would he be surprised?

But, contrary to his expectations, even when dusk falls there’s no sign of Hirano coming back.

Starting to get antsy, he opens the door to their room open halfway, but Hanzawa comes by and shuts it, saying “if you leave the door hanging open, it’ll be in the way!”

He’s on the same committee, which means it’s not a late-running meeting that’s holding Hirano up.

“Hanzawa-san, Hirano-san isn’t back yet—did he tell you he had something to take care of, or something?”

“Hm. I have no idea. Well, you’re not a child, so you’ll be fine. That aside, aren’t you going to go for dinner? I’m heading there now.”

Just as he’s said, dinnertime has indeed started. Although there’s a large window when you can go, you can never be too early if you don’t want to impact your bathing time.

“.....I’m coming.”

I really, really hope nothing’s wrong.

Slightly troubled, Kagiura follows behind Hanzawa.

Apparently, Hirano returned to the dorms just before dinnertime ended.

He went straight to the dining hall without even dropping off his bag, and didn’t come back to the room until after the first years’ bath time had started.

They kept just missing each other, and could say no more than passing greetings, but Hirano seemed to be in a bit of a bad mood.

He has always been the kind of person to speak brusquely, but it is rare for him to be so blatantly terse. I want to ask him about it, but would that be okay? What if it’s something serious that he can’t talk to me about?

He has a completely different set of problems from his comrade, because the depth of their lives are different by one year, a difference he can sense each and every day.

If Hirano has a problem he can’t resolve, there’s probably nothing Kagiura can do to help. If he asks him if anything happened, it might just make him even more upset.

But—he can’t just do nothing. That is the conclusion Kagiura came to.

While wondering how best to broach the subject, Kagiura leaves the bath, and hurries back to the room.

When he knocks lightly on the door and says “I’m back from the baths,” Hirano replies “yeah, welcome back,” in a lower tone than usual.

Hirano sits at his desk, the look in his eyes predictably sharp.

“What happened today?” Kagiura asks, although for a moment he almost folds under the pressure of that gaze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You came home late today, Hirano-san. And it doesn’t seem like it was because of a committee meeting.”

“Oh…sorry. Did I worry you?”

“Yes. I was really worried.”

That’s right, he’s worried. He only realized it when Hirano said it.

The feeling of uneasiness that had been plaguing him all afternoon was an awful lot like the loneliness of being left home alone as a child.

Like the feelings he’d had when it seemed like he’d be swallowed up by the swirling anxiety at the thought that something must be something wrong with his parents, or something terrible had happened to his siblings, for them to not come home like this.

“I see. …..It’s not exactly a cheery story, though.”

“That’s okay.”

“There was a fight—or rather an incident of violence—at the school today. It was one-sided; the guys were playing dirty.”

A kouhai from the committee tried to get them to stop, but Hirano’s friend held him back, stepping in in his place, and sustained injuries.

Apparently the reason Hirano had been late is that after asking about the incident from his friend in the committee room, and then hearing what the first year victim and his kouhai had to say about it, he’d been discussing it with the committee advisor.

Hanzawa hadn’t known about it because the advisor had stopped Hirano from calling him back from the dorm even though he was the vice chairman.

“Do you not know who did it? I’m sure they’d be suspended or something…”

“The guy who stepped in to stop it isn’t that great at fighting, so the culprits were able to get away. He knew that they’re first years, but it’ll be summer break soon, so I don’t really know what’ll happen. …He won’t even tell me all the details, either. He probably thinks it’d be lame to snitch or something.”

The longer he talks, the more it seems like he’s just going off on his friend. But rather than being angry at him, it seems more like there’s something else spurring him on. Regret, perhaps, or frustration.

Imagining the pain of someone he’s supposed to be close with refusing to talk to him, Kagiura gently reaches out his hand.

He strokes that beautiful blonde hair.

Although their usual roles are reversed, this is essentially what Hirano always does for him.

Listening to him talk, comforting him, encouraging him. Hirano does it more skillfully, but for Kagiura as he is now, he doesn’t have the words to nurse his indignation.

As he smoothes down his hair, Hirano’s eyes go wide.

“.....What.”

“I thought if I did this maybe you’d calm down.”

“.....”

Letting out a small huff, Hirano murmurs, “you’re right.” The tension slowly drains from his face..

He makes such soft expressions.

Now it’s Kagiura’s turn to be surprised. Hirano’s just like a cat that’s warmed up to him.

“Hey. How long do you plan on rubbing my head?”

No sooner had he spoken than Kagiura pulled his hand back, but even after Hirano leaves for the baths, Kagiura flops onto his bed and ponders how comfortable it felt to stroke that blonde hair.

Twenty minutes later, Hirano returns from the bath, having washed away his sweat and his air of gloom.

Having sat at his desk and pulled out a map of the school, he says, “I’ll do what I can to get this taken care of before summer break,” his usual vigor restored. He’s not sulking at all. He’s back to his normal self.

When Kagiura asks about it upon his return from the bath, Hirano tells him that after discussing with Hanzawa, they’d decided on a plan of action moving forward. It seems the best thing to do is to check out the vicinity the perpetrators had been walking in, and ask the clubs and groups that use that area at the time of the incident for eyewitness statements to try to deduce the culprits.

Putting out a notice aimed at students in clubs seemed unlikely to succeed, but the thought was that if anyone had been acting strangely after the fight, someone might’ve noticed.

After that, with not only Hanzawa but the collective force of the whole disciplinary committee to gather intel and the support of the faculty advisor, they were able to suss out the culprits before summer break.

The school decided to take disciplinary action against them, due to their maliciousness and the fact that there was a second assault.

Just as Hirano had declared, it was just in time for summer break.

Upon returning to his room after chatting with the club senpai who were also dorm students, Kagiura finds that Hirano had already finished getting ready for bed and turned off his desk lamp. It is unusual for him to try to go to sleep early without studying or reading.

Kagiura follows his lead and softly crawls into bed.

Normal classes end tomorrow. The day after that is the closing ceremony.

The basketball club has practice for the weekend practice matches, so Kagiura won’t have the chance to see Hirano, who’s going home immediately, until the new semester.

As his awareness of this fact sinks in, so does his loneliness.

He didn’t sign up for the mock exam, but his week is full of morning make-up classes, so there’s just no way to swing it.

I never thought I’d come to feel like this.

He’s become fond of that flashy personality that caught him off guard at first.

But that was really just the beginning. Things like moving his slippers out of the way for him, eating the peppers off his plate—he was touched by the kindness Hirano had shown him throughout those days.

Being with his side, more than he would’ve expected from living with someone who isn’t family, is comfortable.

“Hey, Hirano-san.”

“Hm?”

“You’re going home the day after the closing ceremony, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. You’re staying until next week, right? Practice matches and whatnot.”

“Yep. Besides, I also have supplementary lessons this week.”

“You’re actually gonna go? Good for you.”

To tell the truth, he’s actually a little unsure about that.

His grades aren’t exactly something to write home about, but he’d made a rebound at the end of the term, and managed not to get such crappy scores that he’d be forced to take the supplementary lessons.

If he can go, he probably should, but due to club activities he might be exempted.

After checking the prerequisites, he’d declared his plans to attend, because he foresaw putting it off until the end due to a combination of his own personality and being lulled into a false sense of security by the words “you don’t have to attend if you don’t want to”.

Up to now, he’s accepted his senpai’s help, and so far hasn’t let him down…within reason.

“Because it looks like they’ll even be able to teach me how to do the homework we got assigned for summer break. You’ve never been called to attend, have you?”

“Nope, because I take school seriously.”

“Speak for yourself…”

“Haha. You take it seriously too, I bet, and you’ll keep it up in the second semester.”

“Right. …..Um, Hirano-san.”

It’s not as if he’s about to say something weird, but his heart thuds against his chest, and for no real reason, his fists clench atop the bed.

“Hirano-san, do you have any plans for summer break yet? Like around the end of July, or the beginning of August.”

His voice is hesitant, as if he’d confessed to doing something bad.

“Nothing set in stone. Why?”

“What do you think about coming with me to the countryside?”

“Hm? You mean…me tagging along when you go visit your family?”

His questioning reply is slow and tinged with sleepiness.

He hasn’t said no yet, so Kagiura remains hopeful.

“Yeah.”

“.....Your place isn’t really that far in the countryside, is it?”

Hirano’s and Kagiura’s homes are in the same prefecture, and furthermore, they’re right above a transit station. Ignoring the distance between the station and their houses, their respective stations are a 30 minute ride from each other. They’re both familiar with the area.

“Not there, to my grandparents’ house…is that not gonna work out? It’s a huge house and there’s a ton of rooms, so it won’t be cramped, and every year my relatives end up bringing other people anyway, so you wouldn’t be out of place or anything.”

The words had spilled out of his mouth unchecked, but what he said is true. His cousins in university bring along their circle of friends, and more distant relatives with small children come to stay with someone who has a close connection with the main family, so during summer break his grandfather’s house hosts a wide variety of guests.

“.....What days are you going, Kagi-kun?”

“I’m taking the night bus on the 30th, arriving on the 31st, then I’m thinking I’ll stay two or three days and take the night bus back home.”

Up until last year, he’s come with his immediate family, so they’ve usually stayed a bit longer. But for Hirano to come along, he figures this span of time is an easier ask.

He doesn’t want to push back the dates if it can be helped.

There’s a reason it must be this timing.

If Hirano has a prior commitment with this timing in mind, Kagiura will have to give up, but—

“If your relatives give permission, it’s fine by me. I don’t have summer classes around then.”

At the readily given agreement, Kagiura quickly sits up. His phone is charging on his desk.

“Hey, you’re not trying to call them right now, are you?”

“Whaaat, I can’t?”

“You definitely can’t. Do it tomorrow. Look at the clock; it’s almost time for lights out. We’re not allowed to use phones or other devices now.”

Because Hirano himself doesn’t usually follow this policy to the letter, Kagiura immediately understands that cutting off their device time is for Kagiura’s sake.

That sort of thing is what makes him such a good person.

“Fiiine. …Good night, Hirano-san.”

“Yeah. ‘Night, Kagi-kun.”

With the click of the switch being flipped, all the lights shut off.

As the room falls to darkness, the waves of unbelievable nervousness and elation begin to ebb, and before long Kagiura falls asleep.

*****

On the first night of summer vacation, for the first time since he’d started school, Kagiura greeted the night alone.

The two-person room is spacious for one person by himself.

Thanks to the departed Hirano, who’d cleaned thoroughly while Kagiura was at school, even the air in the room had seemed different when he opened the door.

In fact, just by Hirano, who is always there before him, being gone, it feels like everything from the atmosphere to the scent of the room has changed.

Homes are living things, so without people living there they fall apart, or so Kagiura has heard.

He is also hoping that with the number of guests increasing during summer break, that countryside house with many extra rooms will become lively, just as his grandfather said.

Up until now, he hadn’t had words to put to the feeling, but now it feels like he understands what it means to start your own family after leaving your parents’ home.

It just doesn’t feel right if someone isn’t here.

And being with someone is better than being alone.

*****

After talking to his parents and grandfather, Kagiura was given permission to bring his senpai from school home without any issues.

He has yet to tell Hirano anything more than that, but it seems like today they’ll have the opportunity to talk about it.

That night, during the time when phone calls are allowed in the dorm, Kagiura tries bringing up the topic while talking with Hirano.

“By the way, Hirano-san. My relatives said that since you’re my dorm roommate and I’ve probably gotten used to you, it’d be fine for you to stay a week or even two.”

“That’s way too long. And what does ‘used to me’ even mean?”

“I don’t know, either. …..As a matter of fact, we do have guests that stay around a week.”

“I’m grateful to your relatives, but that’s a long time.”

Hirano’s voice as he stifles a laugh is lower over the phone than his natural voice. The husky sound jumps a bit; it’s the first time Kagiura’s heard this voice.

“Are you busy with summer prep courses?”

“Well, I’m finished for tonight, so not really. What about you? Doing okay?”

“Club is going really well, of course. I want to go swimming since it’s so hot, though.”

“Not that, your supplementary classes. You’re going to them and doing the assignments properly, right?”

“I’m doing them. …..There’s a range of topics designated for each day, so I’d be in trouble if I didn’t do them.”

The teacher in charge of the supplementary classes claimed that the majority of students who say they “can’t study” are simply not in the habit of sitting at their desks, rather than having a large difference in their basic academic ability.

He’s not entirely wrong, Kagiura concedes. Because, after all, every time he sits at his desk, he finds himself watching Hirano’s back as he studies or after he’s finished his homework.

If he hadn’t been observing Hirano’s day-to-day life, he probably would’ve said something like “we’re just built different” and not thought anything of it, but thanks to Hirano, he can see the difference between himself and someone who continually puts in effort each day.

“That’s for the best when you’re in your first year. You’ll get more points by reviewing the material from the first semester than by choosing units based on trend.”

Due to the large difference in their characters, Kagiura is skeptical of the theory that if he seriously worked hard, his scores would rise accordingly, but Hirano, who is always studying much more difficult subjects than Kagiura, is sparing him some effort. He has no choice but to do it.

“.....Yeah. I’ll do my best. But, you know…” Although his voice is already subdued so as not to carry into the hallway, Kagiura drops his voice even lower.

“But, what?”

“Our room feels kind of empty when you’re not here.”

When the little huff of laughter reaches his ears, he closes his eyes, unable to stand the way it tickles as if the breath had brushed him directly.

“You must be getting tired. Go to sleep already.”

He wants to protest that he’s not at the age when sleepiness makes him needy, but just as Hirano pointed out, exhaustion is beginning to weigh on him.

I want to fall asleep just like this, without hanging up.

Even though he knows that’s impossible, he almost blurted it out.

I want to see him soon.

*****

T/N: (1) The phrase here is actually 親の実家, but this concept doesn't really translate well into English, so I figured grandparents' house conveyed the meaning best. Basically, in traditional families, the 実家 (true home) is the main house (think Akito's house in Fruits Basket) where the grandparents still live and the extended family gathers for events. This tells us 2 things: 1, that Kagiura's family's probably loaded, and 2, they're traditional, so if he and Hirano ever actually start dating (lol), we can expect some juicy family drama

(2) Full disclosure, Kagi's super cheesy/romantic line at the end is more literally "When you're not here, this room is too big and too quiet". I was going back and forth about how to write it, because I'm a stickler for accuracy, but ultimately I think what I ended up putting conveys the wistfulness and longing a little better than transliterating it would

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[papercherries]

I'm perhaps going on a bit of a obsessive trip. I've been thinking all day about making music again, but more folk punky than I used to. It's not a super popular genre in the UK but it could be fun. We kind of just have punk, which I love as well. But I align much closer with folk punk. I do wonder if it's to do with my upbringing. My grandparents were quite strange.

Every year they'd attend an "American West" convention, we'd stay in caravans and it would all be done out of a caravan park. There'd be fun activities like axe throwing, bows, horse riding, quickdraw (usually with real guns loaded with blanks) and in the evening there'd be music and line dancing. I was surrounded by shitty country music and was deafened by twenty-one gun salutes (that were were done in a criminally small hall). I'm sure some of the country music was good but I don't remember any of it, besides a song that sounded like Hallelujah but wasn't.

I wonder if it seeped into my brain and infected it with a love for banjos, harmonicas and such. Combined with my emo phase, it's just what u might end up with. Along with midwest emo, antifolk and a spice of ska punk due to my dad's love for madness. My music taste is very "American". I don't listen to many British artists and the ones I do listen to I usually found at shows. Besides the popular ones.

I'm planning on buying a banjo at some point, they sound so pretty. But I'd love to have someone to play songs with. None of my friends listen to the same music as me and the only ones who play instruments wouldn't wanna play in a band with me. Our music tastes are just too far apart. I suppose to find the sorts of people I'd wanna play with, I'd have to interact with people at shows or events and make friends. But I find that incredibly difficult even though the opportunity has presented itself more times than I can count. I tend to run and get awkward. Even if I'm being flirted with, It's ridiculous. It would just be fun to be in a band. I actually have some semblance of timing now and bpm so I'd be better for that. Though it would probably be scuffed. As all bands are to start with.

[xxmolls]

A song I wrote called “Sammy.”

I wrote this song the summer I turned 18, right after I graduated high school (2008).

My mom took me on a trip to visit some family friends in Seattle. Their house was right on Lake Washington.

I wasn’t sick yet (that would happen the next summer), and my brain was on some kind of manic creative binge. I was constantly writing songs at that point in my life. I heard lyrics in every conversation, and I always needed a musical instrument nearby to transcribe a melody running through my head. I was frequently writing songs in my dreams (though I’d usually forget them when I woke up).

On this trip to Seattle, I was worried about being away from my guitar for too long. The summer before, I had found an acoustic Gibson Southern Jumbo Deluxe from 1973 in a local pawn shop and used all the money I’d saved from my summer job to buy it. It had some cosmetic cracks on it, which made it a “player’s guitar” and significantly lowered the price to where a high schooler like me could afford it. I hated being away from it for too long. It felt like an extension of my own body. I loved it so much that I had even fallen asleep clutching it to my chest before.

Because I sure as hell didn’t trust the airline with my guitar, I had to go to Seattle without it. In its place, our family friends let me use an acoustic guitar they had bought from Walmart years ago while I was staying at their house. I think i remember it having nylon strings. It may have technically been a classical guitar. I had also just bought a mac laptop for my first year of college, and I was obsessed with Garage Band.

I spent much of our trip to Seattle in their basement writing songs on that shitty Walmart guitar and recording demos on Garage Band (I sound like a real fun guest, I know). The whole time I was looking out their back door and seeing Lake Washington.

I wrote “Sammy” during my time as their basement troll (or Trull, maybe I should say…). I used a lot of imagery from what I was seeing out their back door. The moody country vibe of the music was probably inspired by that scenery too.

I wanted to use a two-syllable name in the chorus, and I remember having a discussion with my mom that I needed a gender neutral name. My reasoning at the time was I wanted to not use pronouns (besides I and you) or a gender specific name so that anyone could sing my song without having to change the words.

I think it was my mom who suggested “Sammy.”

I also drew on my recent first trip to a casino for song inspo. The legal gambling age in Washington state is 18, so we went to a nearby casino. I won 5 dollars, and immediately said “I’m done” (I also almost got arrested for cheating, but I still don’t completely understand how that happened).

I recorded a demo on my laptop a few minutes after I wrote the song, using the shitty Walmart guitar and dubbing over with some creepy ass background harmonies with the reverb turned up to 11. Later on I added some lap steel myself (even though I didn’t know how to play lap steel, but 18 year old Molly didn’t let that stop her from faking it). The resulting early demo was kind of cool, though INCREDIBLY rough. Maybe I’ll share it in the future.

This recording is from when I recorded in Austin. It features some really cool session musicians (some are family friends). I don’t like how my voice sounds on it. This may have been the trip to Austin when I unknowingly had shingles and a super sore throat. Or maybe the recording session where I had a huge goiter in my neck. I’m just gonna go with that explanation. It makes me cringe less when I listen to the recording.

I have been asked a lot “who is Sammy?” A bandmate used to tell people that Sammy is my dog.

Maybe Sammy is someone I haven’t met yet. I sure as hell am not looking for their ass when they disappear in the mountains, though. That was strictly dramatic poetic license. Sorry, future Sammies.

Here are the lyrics:

I dreamt of a place where the pine trees hang low

The lakes look like oceans and there's mountains capped with snow

I went there last night as I was driving in the dark

The casino lights finally hit their mark

I lost all my money, but I didn't care

There were hints of your shampoo lounging on the stairs

I looked for you everywhere, but it was just so dark

You were gone before I could tell you

You'd finally won my heart

Sammy, oh Sammy

quit hiding in the dark

Sammy, oh Sammy

You've finally won my heart

The pinks of the flowers all turned to blue

as I lost all hope that I'd be able to catch you

You remind me of a butterfly the way you slipped from me and fled

But you've always been out of reach

flying high above my head

I finally fell asleep one night and dreamed of you once more

I was so far from home, so tired and so poor

I took my last paycheck and lost it on a game

I went into the mountains

and cried out your name

Sammy, oh Sammy

I'm callin out your name

Sammy, oh Sammy

I've spent everything in vain

[1greenameba]

Yeah , irish and italians wheren't considered white for a long time , and it seems we are going back to that with all the italian stereotypes and jokes i heard recently as an italian ...

Let's also prepare for a lot of anti-slavic sentiment in the next years , there is a lot of material for reactionaries to deem them a "scape goat" and do the same as it was done for arab-muslims in the 2000s :

-russians are regularly called "orks" by many pepole on the internet

-i am really sure when time will come to help ukraine there will be two camps the "this how much money we gave them in weapons do you really want to give money to their homless instead to our doctors" camp and the "we the enlightened westerns should impe.. Help the ukranian pepole by buying whole sale their leftovers homes and in general exploiting their resources , or by doing what china did in east africa for years only we are the good guys now" and i shouldn't say that both camps are wrong or both are essentially arguing over where to point the oppression beam : either domestically by removing workers rights or abroad by doing the same exploitative crap they have done for a long time

-poland has been taking a lot of EU fundings for a long time , and their governament isn't too progressive , so i can see liberal parties creating resentment towards poland and claiming that it's gonna be like afghanistan or iran ( there have been many times in wich civil rights where instrumentalized by imperialist powers to invade or strongarm a country into submission : right afther they have been bombing them for 20 years American politicians rose concerns about woman welfare in afghanistan , and similar in iran ) so i don't see it too different for pepole to paint poland in that light and create anti polish sentiment ...

-slavic is a fuzzy term : greece and czeckoslovakia are in the balkans , but they aren't slavic , or are they ethnically ? asks a fascist looking to broaden the scope , same for romania they are in the middle of eastern europe but they speak a romance language , maybe there isn't too much difference between romance and slavs , keeps on wondering the fascist ...

And this is how fascists think : they aren't looking for truth they seek excuses to further their goals ,

That is why anti semitism works soo well , you can't really tell if someone is jewish at a glance , and so it's an effective accusation ...

The Nazis did this a lot as well : the turks , the japanese , the indians and the italians where equal to the aryan race when they needed to allie themselves with them ,

Even the british and the slavs had secretly aryan blood in their veins , when they had to explain why they where defeating them ...

The same happen for sikhs afther 9/11 : they aren't muslims , but they wore turbants and kept beards , so they got hate crimes all the same ...

And during covid be it koreans or SEA pepole ( it always sounds weird to me : it sounds like i am referring to the bronze age sea pepole instead of south east asia ) they faced hate crimes in the US ...

The reasons are always pretty thin and detached from reality , besides superficial facts

The point is to have somenthing that is malleable enough to be used against anyone they feel like but grounded enough to pack a punch and be recignizable ...

[saumil-soni]

Tips for Choosing Lab-Grown Diamonds

In the event that you have at any point regarded yourself as pondering, "What are lab-developed precious stones?" or "For what reason would it be a good idea for me I purchase a lab-developed jewel over an earth-grown one?" then this is the most ideal article for you.

Whether you are right now during the time spent purchasing jewels or basically need to set yourself up for what is to come, here are the solutions to a portion of your most squeezing questions.

Here is All You Want To Be familiar with Lab-Developed Jewels and Their Advantages

1. What Are Lab-Developed Precious Stones?

Beginning with a little seed of unadulterated carbon, lab-developed jewels can be created through two distinct techniques: high-pressure high temperature (HPHT) or synthetic fume statement (CVD).

Regardless of which cycle is utilized, in the two cases, the precious stone is filled in research centers that have repeated the particular temperature and tension circumstances that empower carbon to take shape and structure jewels.

Following four to about a month and a half, the lab-developed jewels are fit to be cut and cleaned similarly that precious stones removed from the Earth are handled. Also that the two sorts of jewels, mined and lab-developed, are cut and cleaned by cutters and polishers utilizing similar instruments and strategies.

These precious stones have been around for more than 70 years, however, developing precious stones for adornments (pearl grade) was not economically suitable.

In any case, just over the most recent couple of years have these great stones got some decent forward momentum on the grounds that the innovation has advanced throughout the long term, and presently jewel grade jewels can be filled in research centers. A modest bunch of precious stone makers across the world can develop jewels of the quality that is normal in fine gems.

It is vital to take note that lab-developed jewels have indistinguishable synthetic, physical and optical properties from earth-mined precious stones, guaranteeing that they are truly "genuine" jewels. As a matter of fact, in 2018, the Government Exchange Commission disposed of "normal" from the fundamental meaning of jewel, showing their comprehension that there are different ways of growing a precious stone.

2. What Are The Advantages Of Lab-Developed Jewels?

One of the main advantages of buying a lab-developed precious stone is that you can get a lot greater carat size at a similar cost as a more modest mined jewel with tantamount or better 4Cs: cut variety, clearness, and carat. Hence, there is no rejecting that buying lab-developed jewels is the most practical method for getting your desired stone (and merit).

By settling on a lab-developed jewel, you can be guaranteed that you are picking a more moral and manageable choice.

At the point when you buy a lab-developed jewel, you can continuously be certain that it has a perfect, clear history. Besides, being a supportable choice with all cycles done in a lab setting, there's a compelling reason need to dig profound openings to develop or remove them. Obviously, ordinary mining rehearses have prompted the hopeless disturbance of biodiversity.

As far as supportability, jewel mining meaningfully affects the Earth. In addition to the fact that jewel mines disrupt normal land, the most common way of mining requires critical measures of non-renewable energy sources.

Lab-developed jewels don't have any of these ecological effects. A few cultivators utilize sun-powered energy somewhat in handling lab-developed precious stones.

Thus, whether you are looking for a wedding band or a couple of ear studs, lab-developed precious stones are without a doubt the best approach.

3. What Styles Of Lab-Developed Precious Stones Are There?

Since you are picking a lab-developed precious stone doesn't imply that your choices are in any capacity restricted. As a matter of fact, the best lab-developed jewel retailers assess their pieces in the very way that they do across the precious stone industry. This implies that lab-developed precious stones are additionally appraised in light of cut, clearness, variety, and carats.

Assume you are seeing lab-developed precious stone wedding bands. All things considered, you can choose your lab-developed jewel to be round, oval, princess, pad, emerald, pear, Asscher, brilliant, marquise, or a heart.

You can likewise choose the lucidity you need, the cut, the carat, and the variety can. For certain people, you may likewise need to decide the clean and balance. These decisions give you choices to plan the jewel ring of your fantasies.

Essentially, lab-developed jewel hoops come in different styles utilizing various metals, complete carat weight, variety and lucidity, and a few precious stones. Notwithstanding studs, you can have lab-developed precious stone wedding rings, pendants, and armbands - all that you really want for an immortal and lovely gem assortment.

Last Contemplations

Jewels are an exemplary stone that has just become more immortal as many years have gone by. Hence, there is not a glaringly obvious explanation to accept that their allure will diminish at any point in the near future; as a matter of fact, it seems like the interest in precious stones is simply proceeding to rise.

Nonetheless, the inventory of mined precious stones is lessening, making their costs ascend, while the antagonistic impacts of jewel mining keep on expanding.

Consequently, it is accepted that lab-developed jewels are simply going to keep on filling in prevalence. As they are the solution to this developing interest and quickly contracting supply.

Luckily, they are similarly as shocking (while possibly not all the more so) as normally mined jewels, making them the best choice. At the point when you pick a lab-developed precious stone, you can feel better about your buy as there is no ecological harm. There's zero chance of it being a "blood precious stone", and you will have set aside cash, as well!

At the end of the day, lab-developed precious stones are the most ideal choice for everybody concerned - going from you to the regular world. Next time you want a jewel, you understand what you really want to do.

Is it true that you are on the lookout for another jewel? Have you at any point considered buying a lab-grown one? What styles are on your list of things to get?

Tell us your considerations and some other thoughts you have in the remarks underneath!

[annemagus]

natural love potion; h.p.

Pairing: harry potter x fem!Gryffindor!reader Timeline: HBP / 6th year Warning(s): cussing, mentions of dying and blood, submission, reader pining Word Count: 5k

A/N: Hey there! This is my first ever post. I would love to hear your thoughts!

Harry and Y/N are friends. Just friends. Much like Harry and Hermione, there is nothing out of it that is going on between them. Not until that day in potions.

—

“Are you done with my potion?“

“You mean, will Professor Slughorn call you by your name? Then yes, Wallenby.“

It was the first week of another year at Hogwarts. New faces, new prefects and even new professors are introduced, as usual. Professor Slughorn is the newest addition to the faculty and to have a good first impression with the students, he's given the 6th years Amortentia, the love potion, as their first Potions homework.

They were supposed to put it in their selected food or drink and it had to be unnoticeable. Why would the Potions Teacher assign this kind of homework to the students? No one knows. But this certainly gave him a good first impression to a large number of students.

“Blimey Harry, we've been rotten at Potions ever since. Now look at you, it's as if you've taken private lessons with Snape the whole summer. You’re the bloody Potions Master in our year now!“

The two Gryffindors are making their way out of their dorm room towards the Common Room with Harry holding a small basket of cookies to bring it in the dungeons where the potions classroom is at. Y/N is patiently waiting for them near the Portrait as several students greet her along the way.

"G'morning."

“Where’s ‘Mione?“ Ron exclaimed without even acknowledging the girl’s presence.

“Uhm, shouldn't you know that, Mr Prefect?"

The male prefect then realized the time and his supposed agenda to escort first years to the Great Hall. Harry scolded him of how much he and others would kill to be in his position and yet he’s never given it any importance.

“Godric, have mercy on me. Hermione’s gonna kill me!” the redhead exclaimed after getting a playful slap behind his head from the Chosen One before rushing away from the two.

“Much worse than that, she’s gonna make him expelled,“ she jokes with a mouthful of cookie from the small basket Harry was holding. "Mhm, you have no idea how badly I've been craving cookies since last week! This is good, Har. Where’d ya buy it?“ 

Harry, before realizing what happens, freezes. He was too busy lecturing his best friend that he didn't notice a hand sneaking into his potion, the cookie. His hand slowly snakes its way to the contents of the basket that has supposedly four cookies but now has only three. “Y/N!“

"What?" she chuckles dreamily.

"We need to get you to the Hospital Wing."

“What for? You put poison in it, didn't you?“ Y/N continues to chuckle dreamily.

Harry stares at his friend as if she was some peculiar experiment. “How are you feeling, Y/N?“

“I feel like . . .“ she sighs dramatically as she gazes far away, mesmerized. The effects are plainly obvious. “I feel like falling.“

“Falling?“ Harry's stomach twisted. This is what makes Potions classes bothersome, the uncertainty of knowing whether the potion you brew is right or wrong. You can only know it if you’re a professional or by testing the potion done, which in Harry’s case, Y/N would do for him.

"I'm falling in love, Harry. I'm falling in love with you."

And boy was he really the Potions Master.

The raven-haired boy's cheeks got warm the second those words escaped his friend's lips. The two are only friends and have never acted more than that. Seeing this new side of Y/N for Harry is too foreign for him.

Sure, Harry has seen her date two boys from different houses, but being the recipient of her romantic antics has never crossed his path. His last romantical relationship, if you can call it that, was last year with the senior Ravenclaw Cho Chang. Even that didn't go well. He went on a single date with her just to make her believe he's in love with both Hermione and Y/N. Ever since then, he never thought about committing to any romantic relationship.

"Harry . . ." Y/N's hand reached out for his arm, grazing down slowly towards his hand with too much delicacy. Their hands are now intertwined. The both of them have never reached this close proximity, having learned now that one of his best friend's palms are soft but slightly calloused in the fingertips from playing muggle instruments and Harry fears that when Ron finds out about this act, he will tease them nonstop which isn't fair for Y/N. ". . . I know this may sound all too sudden, but, I have loved you ever since."

He didn't respond. He tries to block all of this sudden affection out of his mind knowing these are all artificial.

"Don't you love me back?"

"Of course I do. You're my best frie-"

If his cheeks were warm, now, his ears as well are on fire. Y/N has thrown herself to the flustered boy, locking his neck and face in her arms, squealing in happiness like a kid. Holding hands is a new thing for The Boy Who Lived but hugging him as if to let the world know he's someone's is another thing.

Very few people have ever hugged him in all the history of his 16 years of existence, knowing the story of his parents and the lack thereof. His godfather, Mrs Weasley and Hermione are the only ones — as far as he knows — written in a tiny piece of parchment of the list of people who have hugged him. Yet none of them could compare to this hug as those mentioned acted parental towards him.

Students are now starting to pass them out of the Common Room towards the Great Hall. One of those shouted, "get a room!" They're still standing just beside the Portrait Hole where Ron has left them both to deal with his own romance.

"Uhm, Y/N, why don't we go get ourselves some breakfast first, yes?"

"Yes! Let's tell 'Mione and Ron that we're finally together!"

—

Breakfast was agonizingly slow, to Harry's opinion. Y/N can't stop giggling beside him and feeding him like an infant earning them attention from the others.

"Oi, Potter! Didn't know that you two are . . ."" Seamus makes a kissing face earning a few cackles and sniggers from their other friends at the table.

The boy just ignored them with an eye roll, amusing the two friends in front of him.

"Leave them be, Harry. Besides, when was the time Y/N acted on you this way, huh?" They all diverted their gaze to the dazed girl. Eyebrows knitted in concentration as she feeds him but at the same time doing her best to get as close to Harry as the universe could possibly give her the opportunity to. They've never seen her this in love and affectionate. And the two thought that Harry just deserves it even just for a while. "Never, right? You better make it worthwhile."

"Thanks, Ron. Really helpful." He answered with his famous eye-roll.

"Always here for you, mate "

"I just don't get why we couldn't tell Professor Slughorn immediately. I mean, I'm sure he has something for Y/N. Or Madam Pomfrey-"

"Yeah? In which I'm sure is also your easiest ticket to detention."

The boy grunts some incoherent words of profanities under his breath. Not only was he getting embarrassed by the fact that one of his close friends is acting like his girlfriend but dragging Y/N along with his catastrophic life is just too unfair on her side. She didn't ask for this. Plus, detention in the second week of a new school year doesn't sound good.

The Brightest Witch reminded them not to take Potions lightly. It may sound like not the most helpful subject in a wizarding war, but can get you expelled once meddled with students. In short, what happened to Y/N is very illegal. You should not use or test your Potions project with another student. Plus, Filch will go nuts if he gets the news that a student gave another student a love potion.

“Well, at least, now we know that your Potion worked well.”

"Come on, we're going to be late for DADA."

On their way towards Snape's classroom — a fact Harry still can't accept — Y/N's fingers are interlaced with Harry's as they walk. She's given him her bag as that's what boyfriend and girlfriends do. In the classroom, Y/N didn't sit in her usual spot but literally kicked Ron out of his chair to sit beside Harry, the boy just mouths a sorry.

Her usual focus from the class was now inclined to Harry himself alone the whole class. Out of all their major subjects, Harry is known to have the Defence Against the Dark Arts class on top of it all. Y/N knows it, having been a member of Dumbledore's Army. Everybody knows it. But with Snape being the teacher and Y/N constantly caressing his left cheek every time Snape's back faces them, the said subject is somehow kicked out of its place on top.

"Y/N, do you mind?" He tried but obviously failed to ask her to stop in the nicest way he can utter. "I mean, it'll be really hard for us to pass DADA, and eventually NEWTs, if we're both distracted." His voice is hoarse and soft, one way or another. Afraid to hurt the girl beside him and cause a scene. Letting his former Potions Professor know his mischief doing is the least of his priorities for the day. Merlin, at least, let this day finish without anyone knowing.

"Harry, my love, it's not my fault your eyes are distracting. They're the most beautiful green not even the most beautiful forest in the world could compare to."

Once again, his cheeks and ears are on fire for the 37th time this morning. Most of the reasons are from the nonstop compliments he's receiving from the girl. It didn't take much energy from him to not believe all of it. He grew up with the Dursleys, they didn't fail to engrave in his mind his place and worth.

"Care to share in class what you're chattering about, Mr Potter?" The elder snarled in the middle of his discussion, letters extending out of his tongue as per usual. He finally notices, as always, Harry making another noise across the room.

"Nothing, Professor."

The said Professor narrowed his eyes to the duo. He knows, of course, he knows, he was a bloody Potions Professor ever since he accepted the job offered to him at Hogwarts.

"I'm saying this once and only once," he positioned himself in front of the two, now leaning to the Gryffindor boy to let just the two hear what he'll say. "Fix this, or you will face more vile punishment than getting expelled."

The class was dismissed with 50 points taken from Gryffindor. Harry is used to it, even his other fellow Gryffindors weren't surprised anymore. As a matter of fact, as long as he is breathing, infinite points will be deducted from their house.

As they were heading out of the classroom, Hermione gently peels the zonked out Y/N away from her grasp on the poor boy. "Harry, you can't let the other teachers know about this."

"Well, what do you suggest then?"

The next words that came out of her lips are like caffeine to the sleepy heads of Harry and Ron. They could not believe she could say such things. Even Y/N would have been gobsmacked if she just wasn't in a daze.

"Don't go to classes?" Her tone was laced with uncertainty. But she couldn't think of any other option, she'd rather let them take a day off classes than have Harry nor Y/N expelled.

"Can I come with them?"

— 

Harry Potter's Monday was bizarrely different from his usual ones. He has spent the whole day with Y/N trailing behind him like a baby duck. His hand used to be sweaty the whole time with her's but now, it felt more comforting than awkward interlocked with his.

The castle was quiet, with all the students in class, it gave him privacy and away from the prying eyes of malicious gossipers. They couldn’t get inside the Common Room as some 7th years are hanging there knowing they have fewer classes and more time for reviewing for their NEWTs, library; some teachers roam around there, Hagrid’s Hut; knowing Hagrid, as much as they love the guy, couldn’t keep his mouth shut from secrets.

As much as he dreads going to class all the time, it was strange to see the castle this quiet without Ron’s company.

He was throwing pebbles by the lake to pass time as Y/N sat on the ground behind him, making them their Charms essay homework.

The boy studies her features. Y/N wasn’t so bad. Her hair’s tidier than Hermione’s. She was actually beautiful. He would’ve taken her to the Yule Ball when Ravenclaw Cho Chang declined his invitation and if it wasn’t for that Slytherin bloke asking her out instantly - her first ex-boyfriend who Y/N dated a few months back. Her hair tucked in her ear as she focuses on what to write next in her essay. Harry feels bad for making her write his homework but the girl insisted. Guess you’d do anything for the people you love.

He looks back on the lake. Thinking of the people who have loved him did everything they could to protect him, even dying. First, his parents, then Sirius even Jesus, what did he do to deserve this fate. What good will it be if the people he loves are gone?

Two arms wrapped around his chest from behind startled him.

“You’re tense.” Y/N’s hand unwrapped his bloodied hand. He didn’t even notice he was gripping the stone tightly, his scarlet blood staining the object.

“It’s nothing.“ He cranes his neck to stare at the girl on his right shoulder. Her eyes are full of concern and love. Love that he created out of a goddamn potion for a goddamn homework. A love that could never be compared to the love of his parents and Sirius. A goddamn false love. His brows knitted before jumping out of Y/N’s embrace with panic.

“I think we can go inside now.“

The rest of the day consists of Harry, trying to ignore all of Y/N’s pining over him. He tries to remember that all of these are not her fault, there’s nothing to get mad at her about. Running away from her is also impossible as she committed herself to cling to Harry’s arm as if her life depends on it.

Finally, classes are over and dinner is approaching. The two are reunited with Hermione and Ron in a secluded area of a random hallway, as Harry was hoping to get less attention from other students as they got earlier at breakfast.

“How are the love birds?“ Ron teases, seeing their hands locked still.

“Oh, it was majestic, Ron! Harry took me to the Black Lake even though today was a school day. I feel a little rebellious, to be honest.“

“Good hiding spot.“ Hermione commented.

“I’m not going to the Great Hall for dinner. So you two can bring Y/N instead.“

“No! I’m coming with you!“

“Y/N aren’t you tired of my company yet?“

“I could never! I love you.“

Ron snickered pretty loudly in front of them, even Hermione couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Aren't you two just adorable?” the redhead continues to tease.

“Don’t worry Harry, Ron and I will bring you supper instead.“

The day has finally ended and the effects of the Amortentia, as what the favourite book of Harry says, wears off after 24 hours. It was past Y/N’s get up time but fortunately for them, she took her time sleeping exactly until the effects wore off. 

She moans with pain as she tries to sit up from her bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"'Mione?"

"It's me."

"I feel like a full construction site is inside my head . . . and I feel awful. Like, waking up on the wrong side of the wrong bed."

"Do you feel anything . . . unusual? Like, something or particularly someone you want to obsess about?"

The girl looks at her strangely and then at the time. "Bloody heck Hermione, aren't we late for breakfast?"

Clearly, Y/N remembers none from the incident.

Meanwhile, at the Great Hall, Harry is tapping his leg out of anxiousness. If his Amortentia was too strong and didn’t ease away, he might as well pack his belongings and leave Hogwarts voluntarily. His precious book from the Half-Blood Prince has mentioned the cure for a love potion but the ingredients are only held by the Potions Teacher. The horrors there will be once he mentions this to a teacher is unimaginable, he’d rather spend the day with a dazed Y/N than get lectures from a teacher.

“Don’t worry about your girlfriend, mate,“ Ron’s words are muffled from a chicken leg in between his teeth from across him. “They’re here.“

Across the Hall, the two girls are striding towards their place.

“Why are you at my seat?”

“Uhhh . . .” stammering, Ron glances at Harry for help. They were normally sitting beside each other but after the incident yesterday, they thought Y/N would love to sit next to the Golden Boy. “I-I don’t know either,“ just sliding to his side to make room for the two.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?“ Harry asks the dishevelled looking girl in front of him. Both Hermione and Ron - who are sitting side by side - are listening to the exchange intently.

“Honestly, I feel bad. Like, subconsciously, I know this day would be so bad,” Y/N sighs depressingly. “Why, are you alright?“

“Yeah,” deep inside the boy, a strong wave of relief passed him. His body was cold from the nerves, but knowing his Amortentia had finally worn off, those nerves were showered off of him with a warm relieving feeling. “Actually, I’ve never been better.”

“Well, at least one of us has woken up on the right side of the bed.“ she chuckles half-heartedly. Harry felt guilty hastily after hearing those words. It’s all your fault dipshit.

As Y/N is back to sitting beside Hermione, she is also back to her normal self. Talking to her alone about their Charms homework that she never remembers making and some other random stuff that the boys could not give a care about. She was back to not paying any attention to the Golden Boy at the front who she absentmindedly know is staring at her.

Morning supper was finished and the quartet is now in Snape’s classroom. Y/N was back to sitting beside the cute Hufflepuff guy she's been crushing on and Harry is back stuck with his blabbering best friend.

As Snape discusses some more non-verbal spells and the techniques, he takes time to stop rounding the class in front of Y/N who was again, back to her normal self, her focus never leaving the Teacher. He stares at her, looking past her eyes and seeing that his student’s consciousness is back before trudging towards Harry and Ron.

“10 points from Gryffindor,” he grunted under his breath, which actually is the first compliment Harry has ever received from the elder man.

Classes ended and dinner came, Harry finds himself staring at the girl in front of him. She was talking to Seamus, one of their good friends, chatting and laughing with him as if he'd said the funniest joke ever told. The food on his plate has long been forgotten.

"Quit staring, you creep."

Harry looks back at his best friend beside him with a mixture of confusion. "Don't tell me you think I wouldn't notice."

What the boy was talking about, he has no idea.

"When will you tell Y/N?" Again, he replied with a look. "About the incident, of course."

Harry wasn't planning on ending his friendship with Y/N because of his carelessness. He could've just sealed the cookies in a jar or box so no one could see it, but no. He had to display it for the world to see. Hermione disagrees with his plan, of course.

The three of them found the perfect time to be alone in the common room, students are still chatting and scampering about their day anywhere but their dorms. So they decided then, to tell Y/N what happened.

"So that's why I felt bad. Isn't that the after-effects of Amortentia?"

Three heads nodded in front of her, studying her features.

"Well, I'm glad it was you, Harry. Could you imagine if it was Ron?" Y/N visibly grimacing at the thought. "But to be honest, it was all my fault. I should've asked you first before eating it. Thank you for being honest with me, Harry."

It wasn’t really what the boy was expecting as a response. He was anticipating more anger or embarrassment from the girl.

Their usual cycle is back. Y/N was completely Y/N Y/L/N again it's as if nothing happened. The four of them never mentioned the incident again and Harry catches himself being disturbed with that. It made him feel some things like shouldn’t Y/N be shy around me? Or shouldn’t Ron tease us still about what happened? Or shouldn’t Hermione lecture us and watch over us more to not repeat the incident again? These thoughts run through his head as every day passes.

He also catches himself getting extra angrier at the Hufflepuff boy, Y/N’s crushing about, every time they have a Quidditch tournament. Especially that time when she barges in the Common Room pretty loudly yelling at everyone that she got a date with the cute Hufflepuff.

“Y/N can you help me find a good present for Mrs Weasley’s birthday on our next Hogsmeade trip?” He tried, one Friday morning, to get in between them.

“Of course, Harry! But, can we do it after my date?“

“Right . . . you have a date.” Sounding a tad bit more disappointed than he really is.

“But,” Y/N responded with the syllable dragging along “I could tell him to go on the next visit instead and spend the day with my best friend?”

“Oh no, I don’t want you to cancel your date because of me.”

“Harry, I could even cancel my Charms class, Godric knows how much I love that class but, that’s beside the point. What I’m saying is that I’m here for you. Also, we’ve barely hung out anymore ever since you’ve been the, what does Ron call it, ah, the Potions master!”

“Not you too!” he playfully grunted all too loudly earning a laugh from the girl.

"Seriously, I would love to come with you.”

He never thought he'd say this but he misses Y/N. His Y/N, who cannot keep her hands to herself but Harry’s.

And before he could stop himself from getting deeper into his thoughts, he was left astounded. To his knowledge, all feelings he has for his best friend are only platonic but here he is, couldn't stop himself from the thoughts of Y/N. The way she used to have her focus engraved to the boy alone and him alone. It gives him so much angst every time Y/N hasn't given him enough attention for the day.

If this stupid Amortentia incident leads him into any feelings he'd be in deep shit.

Because Harry should not be bothered to get distracted. Quidditch season is starting, he's got new people relying upon his captainship. Besides Y/N has her eyes on someone else and he cannot risk losing their friendship knowing his feelings aren't being reciprocated.

Well there it is, he's already in deep shit.

So when their first game arrived playing against Slytherin, he is rather surprised to see Ron winning them a high rank.

He knows he deserved the glory that's why as the captain of the team, he let them have the post quidditch game party in their common room. The parties were usually lead by the twins, but knowing they're already gone, he didn't know that his fellow housemates apprehended their festivities.

"Weasley! Weasley!"

They watch as Ron finally gets recognition for his own efforts alone. Y/N was nowhere to be found, probably with her new boyfriend, and Hermione was shattered when Lavender Brown smothered Ron with kisses.

The two are in a random staircase trying to comfort one another. He doesn't know who needs more comforting, Hermione or him. Knowing he already lost someone who's never his also shattered his heart.

"How does it feel, Harry? When you see Y/N with another guy?"

To say that he's dumbfounded was an understatement. He couldn't be that careless with his so-called feelings now, is he?

"I know. I see the way you look at her. You two are my best friend."

He dreaded this conversation happening. The Golden Boy has never intended on developing feelings toward his friend. Unlike Hermione and Ron, the two have been having this romantical tension ever since their first year. His feelings toward Y/N is purely conjured by an incident they never dared to speak about. The boy believes that these stupid feelings of him will only break their friendship and Harry's not risking that.

"Why don't you try something?" Hermione is always the one they go to whenever they need help and whenever they're clueless about the next step. But this, this advice of hers is definitely one Harry's scared to listen to. "Hufflepuff boy is still not making any moves yet. You know, you're valid to think about yourself too. You've always thought about the others, you always prioritize us before yourself. You deserve to live too, Harry."

So Harry did listen.

In the Great Hall, he confided himself to sit beside Y/N all the time. Hermione doesn't mind the changes in their seating arrangement as she gets to sit with Ron anyway, so candidly speaking, it is a win-win situation for everybody.

He starts small, playfully feeding her (the way she used to), talking and listening to her talk about life in general. When they were walking towards their class, he would always offer to carry her bag, in which he never really waits for her response. Intermittently inviting her to do homework by the lake alone together. And every time they have Hogsmeade visits, he would buy her sweets at Honeydukes.

And Y/N notices. It didn't really take her long before she sees. She has convinced Hermione one night to tell her of her doings that day she was under Amortentia. Harry's new behaviour towards her has perfectly mirrored the story Hermione has told her.

Little did Harry know, the feelings eventually have been mutuals.

So when the Golden Boy was informed of this Christmas Party Professor Slughorn has assembled, he didn't hesitate to ask Y/N in an instant, too afraid that Yule Ball night might happen again. He was, for once, too grateful to be part of the Slug Club as Hufflepuff Boy was not part of it. Now that just minimizes his crush problem.

He has seen her in a ball gown back in their fourth year for their Yule Ball. But he never got the chance to be the one standing beside her throughout the night but now, tonight, he feels like the luckiest man.

Standing on the top of the stairway from the girls' dorm room was his best friend he never had feelings before until this year. She wasn't wearing the grandest of gown there is but this simple dress enhanced her features. She was walking down the stairs with a smile that gave a huge impact on how she looks. She was literally glowing.

"Hi."

"Y/N," he breathed, completely in awe of what feelings do to people.

He always sees Y/N every day, talks to her and laughs with her. She sees her perfectly like what normal best friends do. But after developing feelings for her, his mind is persuaded that she was the most beautiful person that walked on the planet.

Harry is infatuated. He felt as if he was under some spell. Is this how Y/N sees him, all those times she was under the love potion?

But Harry was sure, a hundred per cent, that this is not artificial feelings. He really likes her.

So after a very successful Christmas date, with Hermione being their third wheel, the two were back from being hip to hip. Harry was glad his Y/N is back. He's been wearing the pride of not having to use a love potion to get her back beside him. Because this time, Harry did not create an artificial love to make the girl he likes, like him back. This time, he did it right. He just needed to wait for the right time and place to ask her.

Christmas has passed and Harry's time is also running fast. Of course, his special assignment with Dumbledore has never left his mind. He would do the subtle talks with Professor Slughorn here and there. He felt as if he's running out of ideas to get what he needed and to make things worse, the Potions Master is already growing annoyed with him.

"Still no luck with Slughorn, then, I take it?"

"Luck . . . That's it. All I need's a bit of luck."

That evening, Harry was away the whole time. He missed dinner but Y/N waited on him in the common room. She knows that the Felix Felicis potion has no limits. Whatever the user's deepest desires, it will help give it to them. Y/N knows that at this very moment, Harry succeeded. She makes sure that there will be someone waiting on him to celebrate it with him.

Harry came back from the Headmaster's office bearing a report about Slughorn's memory with Tom Riddle. There, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he sees her sleeping in one of the tables far back. It was not hard to see her, with the time obviously past bedtime, she was all alone.

With the liquid luck still pumping in his veins, he rushed to her. Kneeling in front of her, the Golden Boy then gently wakes the girl up.

"Harry?"

"Y/N . . . I think I'm falling"

"Falling? What falling? Are you experiencing vertigo right now? Anxiety?"

"Worse than those."

And Y/N, moving on from her sleeping state, was now fully aware of where the conversation was going. She holds his inviting hand. "What is it, Harry?"

"Love . . . I'm falling in love."

Y/N smiles at how adorable the boy is looking right now. His hair is ever so dishevelled and his lips as red as cherry. He was the most oblivious boy she knows. Has only dated one yet here he is, kneeling in front of her. Confessing.

She knows that Felix is helping him with some luck because knowing the sober Harry, he would never be bold enough to say such things. Little did Harry know, he need not some luck as she was all too blessed to have him in her life. Because to Y/N's honest opinion, in this room, she was the luckiest.

"I'm falling in love with you, Y/N."

—

(Shamefully) tagging these amazing ppl: @harryjamespotterxreader​ @harrypotterxx​ @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[little-moonbeam-666]

Fatal Chemistry *Part 1*

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, masturbation

Word count: 4200

Pairing: Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive) x Camgirl!Reader

Adam stared at Ian in disbelief, as if he had misheard his friend.

“Excuse me?”

“Listen, man, Y/N is great. She’ll be moving here in about a week and I promised her I’d find her a room to rent somewhere.”

Adam sighed, becoming annoyed. Why couldn’t Ian have asked him for anything else? ANYTHING but this.

“Who is she to you?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

“Y/N is an old friend of mine from school. She’s like a little sister to me. Man, I promise you she wouldn’t be any trouble. She’s clean, she’s quiet, hell… her favorite activity is reading and writing. She’s quieter than a church mouse. You’d hardly even be able to tell she was here. And money’s not a problem, whatever you want, she can pay it. She’s self-employed. But she knows that renting a whole apartment to herself would be way more expensive than renting a room from someone. Just know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

Adam was at a stand still. Almost everything in him wanted to scream ‘No!’ and be done with it, but there was a small sliver of… something… that was telling Adam to give this girl a shot to prove to him that not all zombies were horrible. If she was anything like Ian, maybe he could tolerate her.

After all, since Eve had died a few years ago, he had been rather lonely with nobody to talk to. He had nobody to share his ideas or interests with. He was alone. Besides Ian, who always had a positive word to say.

“What does she do for work?” Adam questioned further.

“She’s uh…. Well…” Ian stammered. “She’s a… sex worker… of sorts. A cam girl. Like she does live shows that people pay to watch. But I swear she wouldn’t bother you at all.”

Adam felt as if he may come to regret the decision he was about to make, but fuck it.

“Fine. She can rent a room here. But she better be as clean and quiet as you say she is. I don’t require much for rent, so tell her $350 a month and the room is hers.”

Ians face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Adam, thank you so much. Y/N will be so excited to know I found her a place.”

“Don’t mention it.” Adam said, no expression in his voice whatsoever. “So what day will she be here?”

“She’ll be here next Monday. Probably later in the evening ‘cause she booked an afternoon flight.”

“Great. I’ll have the room ready for her.”

“Again, Adam, thank you. I’m gonna head home so I can give Y/N a call and let her know the good news.”

Adam didn’t say another word as Ian headed out the door. Now he had plenty of time to clear out the instruments and boxes of vinyl records from the spare bedroom that he planned on letting you use.

He got up from the couch and made his way down the hall to the spare bedroom, right next door to his own, and slowly pushed the door open. He grumbled to himself, seeing the piles of vinyl records that he needed to relocate. He grumbled out a sigh along with a few choice curse words and got to work.

Meanwhile in Montana, you had just gotten off the phone with Ian after he had told you that he had found you a room to rent. And also that the guy who you’d be moving in with was a friend of his.

Ian’s description of Adam was a bit vague and you couldn’t tell too much from it. Ian described him as introverted, a musician, and a man of few words. Not much to go off. Definitely not enough to conjure up a decent assumption about the man.

You were too excited to sleep so you decided to pack up the rest of your things, which in all honesty wasn’t a lot. Just some books and clothes.

Getting up from your bed, you headed over to your dresser to begin packing up your socks, bras, and panties. And let's be honest,  you had A LOT of bras and panties due to your line of work. And you weren’t ashamed of it either. You loved your job. You got to pick your own hours, it gave you an excuse to buy cute lingerie, and the payout was great.

Your next show wasn’t scheduled for another 2 weeks, giving you time to get moved and settled into your new place. And you prayed that Adam didn’t mind your line of work or living with him might be a bit awkward. Maybe he’d actually like what you do and want to be a part of it.

That was your last thought before you realized you had several empty drawers and all the previous contents of them folded neatly on your bed, ready to be put in an empty box. You smiled at a job well done, deciding it was late and that you needed to head to bed.

The next Monday came before you knew it. That day you had managed to tie up any loose ends you had in Montana and by late afternoon you were at the airport with your several suitcases of belongings. Detroit was only a few hours away!

The flight was quiet and gave you time to relax and really think about the fact that you had a new home now. Now that you thought about it, you really didn’t know all that much about Adam. Ian gave you the bare minimum information and told you that he trusted him and apparently at the time, that was good enough for you.

Your thoughts were still racing as you got off the plane and gathered your suitcases. You were nervous and excited and honestly just ready to meet your new room mate.

The lights of Detroit were a blur as a cab drove you past downtown, so far out that there were hardly any lights. Most of the houses looked abandoned, and the ones that had lights on weren’t very well kept.

Well, Ian did warn you that it was out of the way and your neighborhood was quiet.

The cab finally came to a stop in front of a large house, dim lights shining from the inside. You double checked the address on your phone and matched it with the metal numbers on by the front door. This was it. Your new home.

You quickly paid the driver and grabbed your bags from the trunk and watched the cab turn around and drive back towards town.

When you turned back to the house, you had time to really take it in. It was old and falling apart, but you could tell it had character. The yard was a bit overgrown and it looked like there was a privacy fence around the back.

A sudden movement caught your eye, causing you to look up. The silhouette of a man stood in the window of the 2nd floor. He quickly disappeared once he saw you.

You grabbed your things and made your way to the front door. Before you even had a chance to knock, the door swung open revealing the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. This must be Adam. He was barefoot, wearing black skinny jeans and an ancient maroon colored robe that hung open, revealing his pale chest and stomach. You had to keep yourself from staring too long.

“Hi, you must be Adam. I’m Y/N.” You said, giving him a small smile.

“Come in.” he said quietly, reaching to take 2 of your heavy suitcases, bringing them into the house like they weighed nothing. 

You grabbed your remaining suitcase and followed him inside and shut the door. He didn’t say another word and made his way up the stairs with your things, so you followed. You had to watch your step once you made it upstairs, boxes of what looked like antiques, books, and records lined the halls. You followed Adam to a room at the end of the hallway before he set your things down and turned to you.

“This is your room. Bathroom is down the hall to the right. Kitchen is downstairs. It’s not stocked, so you’ll have to fend for yourself.” he stated simply. You nodded your head in agreement.

“Thank you.” you said, giving him a smile. He just gave you a nod before turning and walking away. 

You made your way into the room, noting that it was larger than your old bedroom. And there was a king size bed which was also nice. It would work well for your shows. Your walls were a dark navy blue wallpaper, patterned with golden floral designs which you admired greatly. You would have to properly thank Adam for letting you live here with him.

You moved your suitcases to one side of the room by the huge ancient looking dresser and decided to go find Adam. As soon as you stepped out into the hall you could hear the sound of a violin echoing through the house. You toed off your shoes, kicking them into your room before following the pretty sounds. 

Eventually you found what looked to be like a makeshift living room, littered with wires and cables running across the floor and instruments everywhere. Adam stood at one side of the room, facing away from you, the violin placed under his chin as he played. You leaned gently against the door frame, listening to the sad, haunting sounds coming from the instrument. After a few minutes of listening in awe, the music stopped. He didn’t turn around, but he spoke.

“It’s not finished yet. Can’t seem to find the right way to end it.” he said.

“Well it’s beautiful. I loved it.” you said, making your way over to the curved pink couch in the middle of the room.

You watched as Adam silently put the violin back in it’s case. He came over and sat on the opposite end of the couch, as far away from you as he possibly could, not saying a word. The silence practically echoed in your ears but it gave you a good chance to really look at him. 

His wild black hair, his perfectly straight nose, chiseled cheekbones. His eyes were stunning. They were a golden yellowish green color in the right light. Your gaze wandered to his slender neck down the hard planes of his chest and stomach, exposed by his robe hanging wide open on either side of him. Your stare lingered on his abs and the trail of dark hair that led down into his pants. You could feel your heart beat faster at the naughty thoughts that popped into your head.

Adam chuckled to himself, catching your attention.

“Thank you, Adam.” you said quietly, hoping to drop the fact that he’d just caught you openly gawking at him.

He turned his head to look at you.

“For what?”

“For letting me live here. I really appreciate it.” you clarified. He nodded in understanding.

“Yeah. Ian likes you, so I figured you couldn’t be that bad.”

“I promise I won’t be any trouble to you.” you said sincerely. He didn’t say anything, so you decided it would be best to go back to your room and unpack.

You got up, bidding Adam goodnight. All you got in response was another nod of his head.

2 weeks passed and you and Adam grew closer. He grew to trust you. There were some deep intellectual late night conversations. And sometimes you’d stay up a little later to listen to him play something on one of the many instruments he owned. The two of you had formed a bond. He was a man of few words but you appreciated that. You could just co exist and nothing had to be said.

It was finally time for your first show since moving. You moved around your room, grabbing anything you might need.

Your outfit for the night was a black velvet set with lace trim and a black silk robe to go overtop.

Looking at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smiled as you applied a coat of clear lipgloss over the nude pink lipstick you wore. You were finally ready.

Meanwhile in the room next to yours, Adam could hear you greeting your viewers as you went live. This was your first show since moving in so he had never heard you before. His vampire hearing allowed him to hear everything you were saying and doing as if you were in the room with him.

As your words became more explicit, he managed to mentally block you out. And he was able to keep that block up for a while and focus on the book he was attempting to read. Until he heard it. A long, strung out, pornographic moan accompanied by the buzzing of a vibrator. His cock jumped at the sound. He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you. You were breathtakingly beautiful, even for a zombie.

 Adam hated that he may just be developing feelings for you. You were always so enthusiastic about the music he made. He loved the way you’d sway along to whatever song he was playing, a smile on your face. Your laugh when he’d make a joke sounded so bright. He hated these feelings and thoughts about you. He was a vampire and you were a zombie. It would never work.

Your voice caught him off guard. You were talking to your viewers… about him. And your words were far from innocent.

“My new roommate is so fucking hot… Oh fuck! God, when I watch him play guitar all I can think about is his long fingers and how I bet he could finger me so good. Mmmm and don’t get me started on those tight ass skinny jeans he wears. Literally doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, his cock has to be huge. Oh god, and he has no clue that I touch myself every night wishing he was fucking me. Fuck, I wish he was fucking me right now.”

Adam couldn’t believe what he’d just heard you say. You really thought about him like that? You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you? He had to do something about it… right now. He could hear your moans and whimpers rising in pitch and he knew you were close.

He got up, wearing nothing but his skinny jeans, and made his way to stand in front of your bedroom door. Was he really about to come into your room while you were on live? He thought about it for a second and decided it was now or never.

He slowly pushed your door open, revealing the most gorgeous sight he’d ever seen in his 500 years.

Your laptop was placed on a stand at the foot of your bed, letting your viewers see everything. You were sprawled out on your bed with your head thrown back, your hair a halo around your head, and your legs spread wide giving Adam the perfect view. Your panties were pulled to the side, giving you access to your most intimate parts and the cups of your bralette were pulled down, letting your breasts become exposed. One of your hands held a vibrator directly on your clit and the other was pinching at one of your nipples.

Adam wanted so badly to walk over to you and please you himself, but you were still on live. So he opted to just lean against the door frame and enjoy the show. And by the desperate sounds spilling from your lips, you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Oh fuck, I’m so close.” you moaned, your eyes squeezed shut and your hips bucking wildly against the vibrator.

Adam gently cleared his throat, just loud enough for you to hear. Your head snapped up and you looked directly at him, eyes wide in shock. You were about to pull your hands away from your body but he shook his head ‘no’ at you and gave you a reassuring smile, silently telling you to continue.

You glanced at your computer, noting the comments section was now filled with questions about what just happened. You smiled and leaned back again, pressing the vibrator harder against  your clit, moving it in circles.

“Oh my god, guys, my roommate literally just walked in and he’s watching me from my doorway. Fuck, I bet he heard me talking about him.” you moaned out, looking at Adam. He smirked and reached a hand down to rub at the bulge in his pants.

“Oh fuck, I need to cum!” you squealed, rubbing the vibrator vigorously against your aching clit. You glanced at Adam, wanting his permission. He nodded his head and mouthed the word ‘cum’. 

Your orgasm washed over you, making your legs shake violently and your eyes roll back. You turned off your vibrator and tossed it to the side. You could feel the sheets beneath your ass were sopping wet. Your eyes went wide as you realized what just happened. You fucking squirted. You had never managed to do that before. You wanted to be embarrassed but you were too exhausted. 

You sat up and made a show of  keeping your legs spread so everyone could see your puffy glistening folds.

Holy fuck, Adam had never been so turned on. He waited for you to bid your goodbyes to your viewers and shut your laptop before approaching you.

“Adam, I’m so sorry, I never meant for-” you started, but you were cut off by Adam’s lips on yours, silencing you. You smiled into the kiss before he gently pulled away.

“No apologies, love. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed.” he said gently before leaving your room and heading to the bathroom.

The sound of the water running while he was in the bathroom gave you a moment to process what just happened. Adam had heard you. He came over to your room. And he watched you masturbate while thinking about him. And you enjoyed every second of it. Holy shit.

Adam came back a moment later with a warm damp washcloth.

“Lay back.” he said, barely above a whisper.

You did as he said and laid back on your pillows. You watched as he gently pulled your panties down your legs and then used the washcloth to wipe off your inner thighs, moving his way up to your now very sensitive pussy. You spread your legs a little to give him more room. You didn’t miss the smirk on his face as you did so.

He gently wiped the remnants of your orgasm from your skin, the washcloth nudging against your over sensitive clit, making your hips jolt from the contact.

“Mmm Adam.” you gently moaned, spreading your legs a little further apart, your lower lips separating on their own and exposing your still swollen clit. You knew you would be overstimulated but you didn’t care.

“We shouldn’t. You’re too sensitive to actually take me right now. But if you want, I can give you one more. But you have to promise me you’ll get some rest afterwards.”

You nodded vigorously, your eyes wide with lust as you watched Adam set the washcloth down on your night stand. You could feel yourself becoming slick again at the thought of Adam making you cum. Your mind was too clouded with lust to think about the consequences.

“Bra off, love.” he ordered and you quickly complied before laying back down.

Adam got on the bed next to you, laying down on his side so he could watch your face as he pleasured you. He lifted his hand and gently placed it on your breast, gently squeezing before letting his middle finger slowly rub over the hardened tip, making you whimper.

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me.” he whispered in your ear, leaning down to kiss at your neck. You heard him inhale deeply before he let out a feral sounding growl.

“Adam, please!” you begged as he pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sent jolts straight to your throbbing cunt.

“What do you want, Y/N? You have to use your words.” he said, continuing to abuse your sore nipple before switching to the other.

“Fuck, I want…. Ohhhh….. I want you to play with my pussy.” you said, making Adam smile.

“Oh I’ll play with your pussy, baby. Would you like my long fingers that you like to stare at while I play guitar…” he started, letting his hand skim down your stomach, stopping at your hip bones. “Or would you prefer my tongue?”

You groaned thinking about his fingers. You’d imagined what the long digits would feel like inside of you. As much as you wanted him to lick and suck at your throbbing core, you already knew your answer.

“Your fingers! Please!”

Adam chuckled, letting his fingers graze lightly over the top of your pubic bone.

“Mmm I thought so.”

He let his finger trail down to gently trace down the seam of your pussy. You spread your legs further apart and bucked your hips.

Adam quickly maneuvered your leg closest to him to rest over top of his legs, holding you open for him before moving his hand back to your dripping slit, letting his fingers slide between your folds to caress your hole, but never dipping inside. He could feel you clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by him.

He tested the waters, dipping the very tip of his middle finger into you before pulling it out. You whined at the loss. Slowly he pushed it back in, pushing in further than he did before, all the way to the second knuckle. He set a slow pace, pulling out before pushing back in until he’d worked the entire length of his finger into you.

You looked over, catching Adams' attention. You reached up and curled your fingers around the back of his head, pulling him down so you could kiss him. He slowly inserted a second finger beside the first, stretching your walls and making you moan into his mouth. His tongue danced with yours as he sped up the pace with his fingers, curling them slightly to drag against your g-spot.

Adam pulled away from the kiss to watch your face as he began to piston his fingers in and out of you at an almost inhuman speed. Your eyes shut as you embraced the pleasure flooding through you. He could feel your walls squeezing his fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me!” he encouraged, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck.

Just as you were about to cum, you turned your head in his direction. Adam pulled his head back to look at you, but what you saw must have been a trick of the light or the pure euphoria that washed over you in that moment. For a split second, it looked like Adam had fangs. You barely had a half a second to think about it as your orgasm came crashing down, your walls squeezing Adams fingers.

Your eyes were screwed shut from the intense pleasure and when you opened them again the fangs, or whatever you saw, was gone. It was just normal Adam smiling down at you. As you gazed up at him, he gently withdrew his fingers from your still pulsing core and brought them to his mouth and slowly sucked your juices off of them.

“Adam…” you mumbled sleepily, halfway embarrassed from watching him taste you for the first time.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” he said, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Adam… what just happened… we just…” you stuttered, not knowing the right words to say. You literally just got finger fucked by your roommate of 2 weeks and he’s acting like it’s completely normal.

“I know, baby. We have a lot to talk about, but we’ll talk tomorrow evening. Rest, darling.” he stated.

As soon as you shut your eyes, you felt yourself being lifted. Your eyes snapped open and you realized that Adam was carrying you out of your room.

“Where are we going?” you asked, sleep lacing your voice.

“My room.” He said as he stepped out into the hallway and turned into his room. It was dark, like your own and the bed was just as big with black silk sheets.

He gently laid you down on the silky sheets before pulling the comforter up over you. You were about to sit up and complain about being alone when you saw him unbuttoning his pants and pushing them to the ground. You quickly averted your eyes, noting that he went commando. You felt the bed dip beside you and saw that he was crawling in bed next to you.

He reached his arms and pulled you tightly against him. Your back was pressed against his chest and you could feel his hard cock pressing against your ass. Your immediate response was to wiggle your ass against him, but as soon as you started, he gripped your hips, holding you still.

“Adam, I…”

“Y/N, you promised me you’d sleep. Now rest, darling.” he said, burying his nose against your neck. You did as you were told and shut your eyes, falling asleep in Adams arms.

Tag list:  @memenerdlover @katrinakennedy1 @asexualaromosafezone​ @regulusgoesswiming​

[yslkook]

WRONG (3)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you find yourself at the tattoo parlor more often as of late. also, jungkook hates lemon jelly filled donuts and is easily bribed by mint chocolate and macarons. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship

Sora’s unbridled passion for why she believes Jungkook is wrong for you has never irritated you as much as it does in this moment. You’ll never understand why she’s so adamant about the topic, when it’s not her decision. When she knows that you’ve been harboring a small crush on the man for years now, and you’re fairly certain he returns your affections.

When the man told you that he had put an orange heart next to your name, you knew it was real.

You don’t understand why Sora is determined to make things so complicated, when they don’t have to be. You don’t believe her claims that he’s a fuckboy, that he treats people like trash. He’s shown you the opposite. He’s so gentle with everyone, not just you. He’s blunt but he has a big heart under all of the leather and layers of black.

If there’s a word to describe him, it’s dreamy.

Which is why you’re so hurt that Sora refuses to give him a chance. After all, if she was your best friend, shouldn’t she offer him a chance for your sake?

It confuses you.

“I’ve heard so many bad things about him,” Sora says knowingly, swirling her glass of wine in her hands. You don’t feel very much like drinking, not when your stomach swirls in unease. Being in her apartment is nothing new, but right now, you’d rather be anywhere else.

“But what things? And from who? Jungkook is such a genuine guy and he hasn’t done anything for people to start rumors about him,” You protest, but your words fall on deaf ears, “And I like him-”

“I mean come on, have you seen him? The man radiates bad vibes. My friends have all said-”

“Bad vibes? You’re dismissing him because of bad vibes when I’m telling you that-”

“I’m your best friend, don’t you think I know these things?” Sora says, heat and arrogance in her voice, “I’m only looking out for you. It’s shitty that you’re dismissing me for a guy-”

“I’m not dismissing you-” But your voice grows smaller and smaller, something that you think Jungkook might be disappointed in you for.

“It sure as hell sounds like you are,” Sora sneers with a cold sort of tilt to her lips, “Listen. I’m just looking out for you, even if you don’t seem to appreciate it. I thought we were best friends. Friends look out for each other, but if you don’t want to listen to me, that’s on you.”

Something dry settles in your throat and something heavy settles in your chest.

“He’s not good news,” Sora continues, as if she can’t see your heart beginning to ache, “I’ll find someone who will treat you much better, don’t worry.” She pats your knee in a way that is supposed to be reassuring but you wince.

You don’t want her favors, but it’s too late for you to protest. Besides if you did, she’d feel awful and you never want to be the cause of her being upset. She’s your best friend after all. And what kind of friend would you be, if you upset her to that degree?

But still... you don’t want anyone else. You want the sensitive man who gets misty-eyed by powerful renditions of Beyonce songs, the man who texts you until you fall asleep, the man who asks you what color to paint his nails when he feels like it.

You kind of want the sensitive man dressed in layers of black.

You let Sora talk your ear off about all of the guys she has in mind for you, but you stop listening. You don’t understand this vendetta she has against Jungkook, the vendetta that she’s always had. But she is correct about one thing- she is your best friend and has your best interests at heart...right?

The four walls of the tattoo parlor that you’ve begun frequenting more and more often begins to feel more and more like a welcome place in recent days. You’ve always been friendly with the guys, especially Yoongi and Hoseok.

Even if Yoongi doesn’t work at the parlor, he’s here frequently enough.

Though Yoongi and Hoseok are some of your oldest friends, you’ve only come to the parlor a handful of times in the past. Once that realization hit you, you’d made it a point to stop by more often.

Why hadn’t you before?

They’re your oldest friends, but these days, you feel closer to Mina and Mei as well. While you do have other girlfriends who you see as often as your collective schedules align, it’s still different.

But still. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly belonged with anyone. You feel as if you’ve been floating through life, with Sora by your side (at least half the time, when she’s not spewing criticism over the man you have feelings for).

Thinking about it gives you a headache and makes you feel nostalgic for something that you never had. But maybe it’s something you can have.

“Hey, you,” Mei calls from reception, where she’s sitting next to Hobi who waves at you, “What brings you here? Finally gonna let me pierce you?”

“I brought donuts,” You shrug, “And I’m not ready for that surgical instrument to touch me, thanks very much.”

“You can stop by without the pretense of bringing sweet treats over,” Hobi says knowingly, “I mean none of us will complain about donuts, but you know that right? You can come by anytime you want.”

“O-okay,” You nod, your throat feeling a little dry.

“Now, come here and let me see what you got. If there’s a lemon jelly filled donut, save that for Jungkook. He hates them.”

“You got plans this evening?” Mei asks, grabbing her bright red purse that’s nearly the size of your head. Her purse matches her bright red nails and for half a second, you’re mesmerized by the glossiness of her nails.

“No, other than getting ready for tomorrow’s day of work-”

“Great! Wanna come with me to the tattoo supply store? I have to pick up more needles, grips and gloves.”

“Sure,” You shrug, a little excited at the prospect of a quick adventure for Mei, “I’ll just say bye to Hobi.”

He’s already watching you with mirth in his eyes, as if he knows what you’re about to say. “Hey, will you tell Jungkook I said hi?” You murmur, feeling your ears burning at his smug grin.

“Sure, I will,” Hobi grins, “I’m sure he feels bad about not being able to say hi to you himself. He’s had a busy day.”

“Understandable,” You nod, “I mean, you guys say he’s the best in the city, right? I’m sure he’s got a waitlist of people who want to be tatted by him.”

“Maybe someday he’ll tattoo you, huh?” He says mischievously to which you roll your eyes and feel your face heat up.

“He would be so lucky,” You scoff, as if the notion of Jungkook tattooing your body doesn’t make something flutter in your belly.

“We have this competition at the parlor where the person who makes the most tips has to buy the supplies on a monthly basis,” Mei says smugly, “Usually, it’s Kook but for the last few months it’s been me.”

That doesn’t surprise you in the least- Hobi has told you that Mei and Mina are both skilled in realistic and watercolor tattoos, as well as piercings. You think if you were ever to receive a tattoo from either Mei or Mina, you would tip them for the mere fact of them being so close in your presence for so long.

They used to intimidate you, when Hobi had first introduced you to them. Mina with her sleek bob haircut, and Mei with her long, glossy waves. Both of them had nose piercings and their ears were dotted in different hoops and rods. You’d only caught a glimpse of their tattoos a handful of times- Mei has a full sleeve on her right arm where Mina’s tattoos seem to be more hidden.

They’re just so cool and funny and smart.

“How did you all get the idea for the tattoo parlor? Like, was it a business decision or were you all friends before?” You ask curiously.

“Well… Jin, Mina and I have been friends since we were kids, our parents are really close. Jin had this dream of opening his own tattoo and piercing parlor for the longest time. Jungkook and Hobi joined a few months after we officially opened. It took a while, but we’re where we are now,” Mei says fondly.

“That’s incredible! You guys started from the ground up,” You say, in awe, “That parlor is your baby.”

“Fuck, yeah it is,” Mei grins, “What about you? What cool tech stuff is going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

“Um…” Your face heats up at the compliment, “I’m currently helping in developing this app for one of our clients, it’s specific for tracking and trending information related to chronic health conditions. It’s still in its infancy, but it’s been fun! And it’s job security, I guess.”

Mei lets out a low whistle, “Wow, you’re doing something like that by yourself?”

“No, I have a pretty great team,” You shrug, “Something like that definitely can’t be done alone.”

Mei hums, “You’re gonna be great, Ms. CEO.”

“Yeah right, I’d never want that burden,” You scoff, “I’m good right where I am.”

With both of your arms full of bags of supplies for the tattoo parlor (and some extras), you both walk out of the shop and towards Mei’s sleek, black car. It’s late, and you don’t really feel much like taking public transportation. But you’re nervous to ask Mei for a ride home for some reason.

“Hey, did you drive to the parlor?” Mei asks.

“N-no, I don’t have a car yet,” You reply, “I only just bought my condo and didn’t want to make another big purchase just yet. I want to start looking though…”

“Oh! I’ll drive you home then,” Mei offers once she starts the engine.

“Are you sure? It’s kind of out of the way from here,” You reply, folding in on yourself a little in the passenger seat.

Mei only waves you off. “Oh, please. What kind of friend would I be if I just left you to get home alone?”

You bite your tongue, as vivid memories of Sora claiming that she didn’t have enough gas in the tank or her asking for gas money for the ten minute drive from her apartment building to your condo flash in your mind.

“Thank you, Mei,” You say gratefully, “Let me know how much to Venmo you, for gas money-”

“Gas money? For a seven minute drive? Is that a joke,” Mei gasps, “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I asked!”

“Asking me for gas money,” Mei mutters, “You said you want to start looking for a car?”

Her smile twists into something mischievous.

“Yeah, I have no idea where to start though…”

“Ask your boy, Jungkook. Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin work at a car dealership and they’re his roommates, I’m sure he’d be eager to help you.” Something in her voice is coy but you maintain a neutral face.

“Yeah… maybe I will,” You say thoughtfully, “Hey! He’s not my boy-”

“Alright, alright,” Mei relents gently, “But really, reach out to him. He’ll help you. So that those boys don’t scam you like the sleazy car salesmen that they are.”

When you see Jungkook next at the tattoo parlor which is conveniently on your way home from work (again with a box of pastries), you muster the courage to step into his office to ask him for help.

“Hi,” You say weakly, “Umm… I come bearing gifts. Got some of those mint chocolate brownie bars that you like, and those macarons-”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to bribe me, baby,” Jungkook says, smirking widely when your lips part in protest.

“If I was trying to bribe you, it wouldn’t be with mint chocolate. Disgusting,” You roll your eyes and squeal out loud when he lunges for you, giving you a teasing but tight back hug.

“Take it back,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. You hardly hear him, too wrapped up in the warmth of the big black hoodie he’s wearing. The soft, gentle scent of laundry and vanilla floats into your nose when you turn your head to press your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat is faint against your ear. You wonder if he can hear yours speeding up.

“Mint chocolate sucks. It’s a fact,” You mumble.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” His voice comes as a low grumble from his chest and you swallow nervously. Before your nerves can get the best of you, he changes the topic. “Mei told me you’re in the market for a new car?”

“I don’t really know where to start, but I’ve already started doing some research,” You reply, pointing to your small backpack. You pull out a binder with meticulously colored tabs labeled in neat print that Jungkook raises an eyebrow at.

“What?”

“You just carry around a binder with your research on car purchases at all times? Is that what you do?”

“I have to be prepared!”

“Sometimes you just need a vibe check-”

“You want me to purchase an entire vehicle worth about a million and one paychecks based on just a vibe check? Is that what you did with your motorcycle?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook gives you a crooked smile, “And a little research. I guess.”

“You guess,” You mutter under your breath.

Jungkook has been more touchy with you once you had given him the go ahead all those weeks ago. He doesn’t show his affections with you unless you’re both alone, and it’s never anything more than hugs and the occasional brush of hands.

He’s melting you from the outside in, and you bask in his radiant heat. The thought of Sora’s approval doesn’t bother you, not when he hugs you like this.

But as always. Her disapproving voice worms its way into your head and you reluctantly peel away from him to sit on the faded burgundy couch with the box of macarons on your lap.

“So,” Jungkook says, immediately feeling the loss of your warmth in his limbs, “How can I help?”

tags: @kookdbean

MoM tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe

[agentofscifi]

Success is the Best Kind of Revenge Ch. 3

Heels click onto the floor of my office as Chloe pushes open my doors. My hands were currently holding up the train of a dress hung on Juleka. Alix follows after Chloe, tinkering with some kind of camera in her hand. Over the years, as we all graduated from University and done pretty well for ourselves.  

Juleka ended up changing her major in school after three semesters. Instead of going into performing arts for instruments, she went and got a composition degree. Juleka wrote music for a variety of artists and was one of the most sought-after songwriters. When she wasn’t doing all of that, she was modeling for my company. Juleka did a variety of photoshoots for several companies, mine included throughout her University Years. After I opened up my first few stores, we signed a formal contract. She’d been working for me for almost a decade. She split her time between Paris and Nashville in America. 

Alix decides to focus on a degree in art history. She worked at an Auction House company in Paris, moving between the various countries of Europe to authenticate pieces of art and then handle their sales. She was rather successful at her work, earning many bonuses for rather extremely successful sales. Alix’s unique style and comfortable professionalism made her easily approachable to buyings. She was rather blunt, and it did her well in her job. On her off-hours, Alix did some minor modeling and promoting much of my athletic pieces. Alix’s popularity grew as she competed in several X-Games in and after university. She won several titles in skateboarding, BMX freestyling, rollerskating, and snowboarding before retiring after a slip-up when snowboarding. She shattered her kneecap, broke a leg, her collarbone, and dislocated her arm in two places. She still did BMX biking, skateboarding, rollerblading, and snowboarding, just not in a professional capacity. That being said, little kids still asked for her autographs all the time.  

Chloe graduated from the London Business School with Honors and then proceeded to attend the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York to get a Graduate Degree in Global Fashion Management. She modeled some of my designs, worked connections, handled all my brand’s social media accounts, and finalized contracts. Now, she had several people working underneath her, to handle the day-to-day operations. Either way, Chloe handled all of the Brand’s business dealings and flourishes.  

As for me, I attend the London College of Fashion. I got a Bachelor’s Degree in Fashion Design and Development with honors. After those years, I went to Milan to attend Istituto Marangoni International for a Master’s Degree in Luxury Accessories Design & Management. After that, I relocated back to Paris. My first boutique opened up quickly after that along with a small factory with a loan from a bank. I ended up having to open a second factory within three months due to demands. More boutiques opened up worldwide as the Brand became a household name.  

“Hello Chloe, how is everything?”  

“We got invitations to a reunion for Lycée. Alya sent them, as she was the class representative when we all graduated. Personally, I think she wants to get her hands on you or Juleka for an interview. You know her journalism career is in the gutter.”  

Alix snorts. “And who’s fault is that?” 

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Her’s. The idiot ruined her blog when she was a teenager and she never changed. She still does idiotic and frankly dangerous things to get a scoop. Sure, she does some basic research now, but the girl’s been detained several times for endangering people and disrupting the peace. No University would touch her, and no place will hire her.”  

Alix looks up from the camera. “So, you didn’t inform everyone in the fashion journalism world about her history, knowing it would spread to all major news and journalism networks.  

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Look, this company’s image is important. I was not going to let Miss Blogger ruin it for 15 minutes of fame. She dug her own grave.”  

I sigh. “This is great and all, but are you all going?”  

There’s a snort right behind me. “Not on any of our lives. We will not be sinking that low.”  

“Chloe!” Juleka’s face is red and slightly scandalized.  

“What? Why would we go to this reunion? To see how everyone is doing? It’s rather simple. Alya’s a tabloid writer. Nino is a barely successful DJ who works at a music store to help pay his bills. Max is an IT guy at a company. That fake research paper haunts him to this day. Kim works at a gym. The drugs screwed his athletic chances over and he never planned for anything beyond going to the Olympics. Nathaniel works at an art store and does nighttime classes. He’s unsuccessfully worked with 7 different writers for his comics after leaving Marc.   

Now, Myléne and Ivan are happy, at least. Myléne works as a secretary and Ivan as a grocery store manager. Both are part-time so one of them can stay home with their kids at a time. They have millions of photos of their family on their Instagram accounts. Neither one can do much with charities. The fraud they committed was spread around the charity communities fast.  

Rose, Adrien, and Sabrina are the only ones who did what they wanted to do. Rose had a few years of fame with her music before getting married and settling down as a youth music teacher. Adrien moved to America and works for a University. However, I know for a fact that he will not be returning to Paris for anything less than a funeral or a wedding. As for Sabrina, after some therapy, ended up as a Detective in Marseille.”  

“Didn’t you pay for her therapy?” I tie off my last stitch and let the train fall to the platform.  

Chloe purses her lips. “I owed her that much. I screwed her childhood up, majorly.”  

“Did you stalk everyone to find out all of this?” Alix has a mischievous look.  

Another eye roll from Chloe. “I didn’t need to. In this day and age, all you need to do is type their name into the internet and all of their social media pops up.”  

I hum. “What about Lila?”  

“She’s still in prison. Tried another appeal a little while ago, to no avail. Her long list of offenses and the “assisting a terrorist” change isn’t something any judge would want to touch, even with a 10 ft pole.”  

Juleka simply shrugs. “Back to the point at hand. I’m not going to this reunion. Rose is the only one I wanted to keep in contact with, and she’s not going. It’s her five-year anniversary with her husband. She’s going to Spain that week.”  

Alix shugs. “I’m not going either. Kim has tried to contact me so many times to help him get back into the sports world. I am not giving him another chance. Besides, there’s this huge auction going on in Russia for that week. I am not missing that for a few hours with our childhood classmates.”  

I look at Chloe. She raises a perfect eyebrow. “Not a chance and you are not going either. Heavens forbid Alya posts something on that new blog of hers.”  

I set my needle and thread down on a work table and gesture to Juleka to get changed. “I’m not going if none of you are. Besides, there’s this fashion show in Milan that weekend. It’s for freshly graduated designers to show off their talents to possible employers. I was planning to go to find some who would specialize in Fashion Contour. I’ve been doing quite a bit of work in that field and want to get a fresh pair of eyes that will eventually take over that area of our brand. I was also hoping to look for someone to start a Make-up department. One of your people mentioned the idea at a meeting.”  

Chloe nods and starts to type into her phone. “I’ll tell my assistant to look through the applications we have to see if anyone fulfills the requirements for that job. Just find that new department head.”  

I give Chloe a nod as Juleka hands me the dress from before. A custom-made wedding dress for a woman who happened to be Juleka’s exact size. One of the many I had made of the years since I’d started my fashion business.   

Some part of me wanted to thank Lila. If I was honest with myself, I wouldn’t be where I was if she hadn’t arrived at my class and taken everyone’s loyalty. They weren’t bad people, but thanks to Ms. Bustier, they were a drain on my energy and abilities. Now, however, I was one of the most well-known and successful fashion designers with over two dozen people for me in Design. I could not be happier. 

Ch. 1 ~~~~~ Ch. 2

[bitchesgetriches]

Hey bitches,

I'm starting my 2nd year of college in the fall and am getting ready to move into an apartment with a friend next month. As we've been working on the final requirements, we've found ourselves a bit confused about renter's insurance. As this is both of our first non-home non-student-specific-housing neither of us totally understand what it is, or where we would be best suited acquiring it. Our apartment seems to work with a specific insurance but accepts others and I'm cautiously suspicious of just going with what the apartment recommends.

Could I beg of your enlightenment in this capacity/do you have any tips on shopping around for renter's insurance?

Hey piglet! This is a great question. And your instincts are correct: I'd be skeptical of an insurance plan that partners with your apartment building as well.

If you have car insurance, life insurance, or really any other kind of insurance besides health insurance, go to your insurance provider and ask them if they offer renter's insurance. Then ask if they'll give you a discount for bundling it with your existing insurance coverage. For example, when I was a renter I bundled my renter's insurance with my car insurance and got a lil kickback.

If you don't have insurance of any kind, ask your friends or family who rent what they use and like. Personally, I think Geico is pretty easy to work with and also fair.

Renter's insurance covers the contents of the apartment--your personal property, in other words. But don't just pay your monthly insurance premium and think you're done. Here are some little-known insurance hacks I learned AFTER I was robbed while renting:

- Take a picture of all your valuable items: laptop, phone, instruments, jewelry, sporting equipment, etc. Make sure those images are TIME-STAMPED, or that there's an upload date in the file's metadata. Then upload those image files to a cloud-based storage account like Google Drive or Dropbox.

- Save receipts for large, expensive items. Upload those receipts to the cloud too. Both of these steps are to prove ownership of these items. If they're ever stolen or destroyed, the insurance company will be like "But how do we KNOW you owned a PS5 and aren't just trying to scam us into buying you a whole new console?"

- If you and your roommate are sharing renter's insurance, make absolutely certain the policy covers BOTH of you. Learned this the hard way when we were robbed and insurance said my fiance's possessions were not covered because the policy was in my name only.

Good luck, piglet! Here's more advice:

Dafuq Is Insurance and Why Do You Even Need It?

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Living Independently for the First Time

[valyntynamaro]

Homesick - Thomas Raggi

Requested by @fairyth0rns In which a homesick Thomas confides in you after a show. I changed up the premise a little but I love how it turned out!! LOTS of fluff and feelings! Hope you like it <3 this is basically Thomas Raggi stan acc at this point ahaha.

word count: 1,914

REQUESTS OPEN

-no warnings

Being on tour with your best friends wasn't always easy, there were small fights, drunken mistakes and harmful words that got said, but it was just the pressure they were all under, no one was ever mad at each other for long, it was just the lifestyle catching up to everyone.

No matter how hard things got out on the road you knew there would always be someone you could turn to for help and consolation, and things did get hard being away from your life back home. However, you knew that everyone gets that way and all you can do is support each other.

Loud cheers erupted from the audience as the show came to an end, you had been out on the road with Måneskin for a few weeks and as the tour was coming to the end you couldn't help but smile, thinking about how far they had come not only in the last few months but over the last few years that you had known them.

Every single milestone and achievement made you all the more proud of the four people before you on the stage which you called your family, that's what you had become a close-knit family and you couldn't imagine your life without them.

"Thank you, everybody, we have been Måneskin, goodnight!!" Damiano screams excitedly into the mic as the band begin to leave the stage, you clapped and cheered for them from in front of the stage, but in front of the crowd barrier. Snapping a few pictures of them as they held up their instruments and waved at the crowd, Vic stuck her tongue out at you and leaned into the camera as you took her picture.

After the show, you all made your way back to the hotel you were staying at for those few nights, there was an off day tomorrow so everyone decided that it would be fun to go down to the bar and have a couple of drinks.

Down at the bar, you all raised a glass to the great show they had put on and the successful tour also for good luck in the future. Music played loudly as you all danced together, laughing with one another at the terrible moves coming from each of you, everything was perfect and it was moments like that which made all the fights and upsets worth it.

Swaying your hips to the music you felt someone's arms slip around your waist, looking down you recognise the rings on their hand, It was Thomas and you instantly relaxed into him, moving softly to the music in time with him. Whilst you loved everybody in the band, you and Thomas had a special bond, you just understood each other a lot more deeply than the others.

"Are you okay my love?" turning around to face him in his arms, you met with a slight frown, you hated seeing him like that and would do anything to make him feel better.

"I guess, I just feel...I don't know I think I'm just tired" You could barely hear him over the loud music and the screaming from your friends as they fooled around, picking one another up and throwing them around.

You take Thomas' hand, leading him away from the dancefloor and out the backdoors to the beer garden outside. The atmosphere instantly softened and you could tell he was a bit more relaxed. "What's going on in your head sweet?" the two of you take a seat at one of the tables, he pulls a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket and lights it, he offers you one but you politely decline.

"I'm just so tired of being out here away from home, it's catching up to me now. I just want to wake up and not have to worry about how I'm going to do that night, the pressure is just getting to me y/n." He rests his head on your shoulder, your hands instinctively go to his shaggy blonde hair, he loved when you would play with his hair.

“ I know my lovely, everyone feels like that sometimes It's completely normal you just have to do your best and that's all anyone can expect from you, we'll be home before you know it" Placing a kiss to the top of his head he sighs, putting out his cig he takes your hand in his and plays with the many rings on your fingers. You never wore rings until you started touring with the band, they introduced you to them and would always buy you one as a thank you at the end of every tour- they were so special to you and you made sure to wear them every day for good luck.

"Y/N, I don't want to be at this place anymore, I can barely catch my breath" you knew what he was feeling was social anxiety, you had spent so many times with Thomas backstage just calming him down when he'd work himself up into a panic, it was never a bother to you though you just loved to make him feel comfortable and safe.

" We can go back to the hotel if you want, watch your favourite movie and cuddle?" you suggest, he doesn't say anything but just nods, "I'll just go tell the others, meet you out the front." Getting up, you place another kiss on his head before helping him up and making your way inside, for a minute you struggled to find anyone but you saw Vic by the bar being chatted up by some guy.

"Vic, me and Thomas are going back to his room, I'll see you in the morning" you hug her, Vic had always admired your relationship with Thomas, she knew that no one made him feel like you did, she would often tell you how cute it would be if the two of you were dating. Whilst you liked the idea of being with him, you knew that it was far important just being there for him you wouldn't want to risk everything and then not be able to be there when he needed you the most, so you were okay with just being friends.

“ Don't do anything I wouldn't do girl, have fun" she teased, causing you to roll your eyes everyone in the group would make jokes about how you and Thomas acted like you were already a couple but you paid no mind to it.

Meeting Thomas outside you walked hand in hand down the road, taking in all the sights the city had to offer whilst you made your way back to the hotel you were staying at.

Back in his room, you changed into a comfy shirt of his, whilst he only wore a pair of grey shorts. You couldn't help but think how good he looked in them, those shorts of his were a weakness of yours and he knew that which is why he always wore them around you.

Relaxing on the bed, you lay your head on his chest your arm draped over his lower torso, he had an amazing body and you would often catch yourself sneaking a look whilst the two of you changed together. "what do you want to watch then?" you asked, tracing circles around his 'Må' tattoo, you had been there with him, holding his hand as he got the tattoo done.

"you choose" his voice was soft, you could tell he was tired, so you just put on a film you had seen a bunch of times so you didn't have to pay attention to it, so he could just relax and fall asleep.

"You know, I don't want the tour to end" you could tell something was on his mind. "why's that?" leaning upon your elbows you turn to look him in the eyes, getting lost momentarily in them.

"Because you won't be there" a tear falls from his eyes and you quickly wipe it away, holding his face in your hands.

"aw sweetie, I'll always be there, even if I'm not with you every day, you can always call me" you kiss his cheek, comforting him, wiping away more tears.

" it's not the same, I just want to be with you all the time, you make me feel like nothing else on earth, when I'm with you nothing matters y/n, I don't know how you do it but I don't want it to ever stop" now it was your turn to cry, no one had ever made you feel so special or important in your life and it felt so good to hear those words leave his mouth.

"Oh Thomas, I don't ever want to be without you either, but you know I have a life back home, outside of the band. I'm only a short drive away, you can come to see me whenever you want and whenever you feel sad I'll be there as soon as you call" It broke your heart to see him so vulnerable, but you knew there was nothing you could do, you lived about ten minutes out of Rome, you couldn't afford the city.

"I feel so selfish, I just want you all to myself all of the time. I count down the days to the start of every tour because I know that I'll get to wake up and see you every day, that I get to spend all the time in the world with you, with nothing keeping you from me" He sits up, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"I know sweetheart, I know" Is all you could say, you were choking on your own words, it hurt so much that you couldn't be with him all the time.

"I don't even just mean with me physically, y/n you complete me, you make me a better man and I..." he pauses, wondering if he was really about to say what he was going to say.

"I love you y/n and I know you feel the same way about me, I've just always been too scared to do anything in case I scare you off because I can't bear to lose you" you pull away from the hug to look him in the eyes once more.

"Thomas, I've been in love with you since we first met you have no idea what it means to me to hear you say this" the two of you lean into each other, your lips inches away from his but before anything could happen the door bursts open, causing you to jump away from each other.

"Y/N Dami's been siiiickkkk" Ethan whines, stumbling into the room throwing Damiano down onto the bed beside you. Just like that, you had been snapped out of your cute moment with Thomas and back to the reality of the mother of the group.

"oh dear, let's get you cleaned up shall we?" you get up pulling Damiano up with him and take him to the bathroom, stopping at the door to look over at Thomas who just had the biggest grin on his face that you had ever seen. Even though you had been interrupted you knew that things had changed forever and that you'd have plenty of time to carry the moment on later, running a bath for your drunk friend you couldn't hep but smile too, everything was perfect in that moment and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[peachy-panic]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 3: “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

This is the next chronological piece of Do No Harm, continued directly from this chapter.

Tag list: @whumpervescence  @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump

WARNINGS: Medical procedures, referenced/implied noncon, slavery setting, the usual.

The young doctor seems a bit skittish and far less cruel than the other Facility employees, and that comes with the dangerous notion that perhaps he doesn’t plan on hurting him. But that notion requires a naivety of which Jaime is no longer capable. He, of all people, is aware that cruelty can disguise itself in many shapes and sizes. Just because it isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and that only makes it all the more dangerous.

There’s no use in hoping either way, he decides. Dr. Tate will either hurt him or he won’t, will either touch him or he won’t, and Jaime can’t — won’t — react. He has already made that mistake once today and will certainly pay for it later in ways he doesn’t want to think about now. He would do well to remember that he doesn’t hold any power here. Not in this room, this building, this life. And that, despite any arbitrary written rules, Dr. Tate is free to do as he pleases. 

At least he had removed the restraints from his mouth and wrists. Jaime can console himself with this small mercy. 

Those had always been the worst part of nights with Mr. Torley, on the all-too-frequent occasions he decided to use them. He was clearly very into them, and even more into Jaime’s fear of them. In addition to the claustrophobia they stoked in him, the use of restraints in bed had always felt something like a mockery. What use was it to restrain someone who can’t fight back regardless? The binds on his wrists and ankles were nothing more than accessories. The shackles in his mind did all the work to keep him still. And Mr. Torley knew that.

He does his best not to think about that now. Not to think about Mr. Torley at all, since that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Distantly, he wonders how long the influence of his first Keeper will continue to stain Jaime’s existence beyond the termination of their six-month contract.

Dr. Tate, who has been buried in the cabinets above the sink for several minutes, turns back to him sporting bright-blue gloves that adhere tightly around his slender hands. He meets Jaime’s eyes for half a second before his gaze darts somewhere just to the left of his shoulder. 

“We need to run a couple of tests,” he says in a detached, clinical voice, all notes of lightheartedness from earlier removed. “I’ll need to collect some samples from you.”

Jaime nods once in acknowledgement, squeezing his fingers tightly, unconsciously around the edge of the table. There’s an unnatural pause in his cadence, and Jaime when looks up, he watches a slight twitch of movement in the doctor’s jaw. 

“Please remove your pants and underwear,” Dr. Tate says, his voice taking on a lower pitch. “You can leave them on up to your thighs, if you’d like.”

The slight shift in demeanor sets Jaime on edge, but he doesn’t hesitate at the command, even as a familiar panic claws at the inside of his throat. He drops forward from the table, his legs taking his weight. His thumbs hook the waistband of the thin, cotton pants he had been returned in, and he doesn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation before pushing them unceremoniously off his hips. He takes Dr. Tate up on his merciful offer to keep them partially on his body. The cold, sterile air inside the clinic is sharp against his exposed skin.

Jaime’s eyes find the ceiling as he prepares for the touch he knows is coming. He doesn’t look to see whatever tools and instruments Dr. Tate is laying out on the silver tray beside the exam table. He doesn’t have to. “We need to run a couple of tests.”  Whatever foolish hypotheticals Jaime once held in regards to WRU — what they did and didn’t know about the treatment of their wards — had long been shattered. 

Of course they needed to test him for sexually transmitted diseases. They can’t have a Domestic Companion spreading something to the next paying customer that buys their time and exposing their innocent charade. 

There’s a pause in Dr. Tate’s movement, but Jaime doesn’t look away from his spot on the ceiling tile.

“I’m going to touch you, now.” Dr. Tate’s voice is low and measured. “I need to examine you for bumps or sores, any abnormalities.” He clears his throat. “And I’ll take a swab from your urethra. It might be uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt you.” Another pause. “Please, tell me if it does.”

Jaime’s grip on the table tightens, but he otherwise doesn’t react. Distantly, he is grateful for the warning, the bare explanation, mortifying as it is. He knows that the doctors here are not obligated to explain anything to the Companion patients, to seek consent in any form. Their consent was implicitly given in the contracts they signed at intake. He just as easily could have left Jaime gagged and bound to the table and gone about the procedure without so much as a word to him. Jaime is glad he hadn’t. 

Instead, Dr. Tate’s touch is light and professional. His gloved hands don’t linger, they don’t poke and prod to get a reaction from him. It seems, even, that he touches him as little as possible. Almost as if he is as eager to get this over with as Jaime is, which doesn’t feel quite possible. 

The fluorescent strip of light next to his focal point on the ceiling burns at the edge of his vision, but he doesn’t look away, using the mild discomfort as an anchor to hold himself steady. He concentrates on that instead of the gentle touches, gritting his teeth against any traitorous urges his body might provoke. Mr. Torley had loved that about Jaime — his responsiveness to touch — but not as much as he loved using it against him. 

His stomach sours at the memory, fresh humiliation creeping into his cheeks at the idea of something similar happening now. He doesn’t think Dr. Tate would tease him the way his Keeper had, but he still doesn’t relish the idea of becoming physically aroused in front of this young doctor, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him and, in another life, Jaime might have found pretty. 

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes, too painful to linger on. The idea of another life. A normal life. A life at all. These are thoughts Jaime is forbidden to have. The phantom sting of an electric shock lights up the column of his throat and Jaime winces.

“Sorry,” Dr. Tate said quickly, misunderstanding the movement and withdrawing his hand. Jaime’s eyes finally fall to his as the doctor takes a step back, inserting the long swab into a glass tube and sealing it with a cap. “The worst part is over.”

Jaime is numb all over, but he nearly laughs. He knows that having stepped foot in this facility again, the “worst part” has not even begun. 

“I’ll need to collect another sample from your mouth,” Dr. Tate continues, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and Jaime absently wonders why they even bother wasting extra product on the patients here. “And we’ll draw some blood—” 

Something catches his voice mid-sentence and Jaime’s eyes flick up to his again. Dr. Tate looks at him, and then pointedly, hurriedly away. Jaime swears he can see his pale cheeks reddening.

“You can— We’re finished with that part.” He stumbles out. “Feel free to cover yourself up.”

Jaime does as he’s told, finding it somewhere within himself to be grateful that the doctor had kept the procedure professional. He couldn’t say the same thing for every encounter he’d had in the facility clinic before. 

********

Sebastian knows what happens next, and that’s why he finds himself taking his time with the rest of the visit. As soon as he’s completed the mandated intake exam, he is supposed to mark the patient as cleared in his chart and alert the handlers to come collect him. To take him back into the part of the facility where Sebastian has never set foot; the “residential” wing where the unclaimed Companions are housed between contracts. On all the promotional advertisements, it’s depicted as a dormitory-like accommodation. Now that Sebastian knows just how little truth exists behind their lies, he can only imagine it’s nothing of the sort. 

His mind conjures images of iron-barred cells and concrete rooms, of medieval dungeons with chains and darkness and filth. It’s a sensationalized version of what he assumes is probably the truth, but that doesn’t mean the reality is any less horrible. After what he’s seen in his time here and everything he’s heard, he has no doubt that the people who are forced to reside here between Keepers are subject to the company’s own brand of horror. Frankly, he’s in no hurry to turn his patient back over to their hands a moment sooner than he has to.

The boy is silent and entirely pliable throughout the whole exam, allowing himself to be moved when necessary and not so much as flinching when the needles for the blood draw break his skin. Sebastian is glad when the more… invasive parts of the exam are over. The boy had been no less compliant during them, maybe even the opposite, but Sebastian hadn’t missed the subtle changes in his posture, the way the muscles in his hands clenched and released around the edge of the table as he touched him as little as possible. 

He had looked up at the ceiling instead of at the wall behind Sebastian, as he had done previously, and Sebastian had silently prayed that the position wasn’t intended as a way to hold back tears. He doesn’t know how he could live with himself if he made this kid cry.

When the blood has been drawn, the test samples submitted for lab processing, and a full physical performed, Sebastian has run out of ways to delay the inevitable. He closes out of the boy’s patient profile on his screen and turns to him, hands folded professionally in front. 

“I’ll need to alert the handlers that your intake exam is complete,” he told him, probably unnecessarily. He hadn’t looked to see how long he had been in the system, but from his behavior, he assumes it’s been long enough to break his spirit. He probably knows these protocols better than Sebastian ever wants to. “They’ll come and escort you back to the residential quarters.”

110750 nods once without looking at him. “Thank you,” he says flatly. Then, there is a moment of pause before he lifts his eyes and seems to level Sebastian with something more sincere. “Thank you for… for letting me get cleaned up.”

Sebastian feels like shattering into pieces all over the cold linoleum. Instead, he tries for a smile and lands somewhere in the realm of a tight, thin line at his lips. “Sure,” he says, a bit mortified to hear the crack in his voice. 

He watches 110750 take slow, measured breaths as Sebastian makes the call he desperately wishes he didn’t have to make. He tries not to stare as they wait in tense silence for the handlers to arrive. Of course, Sebastian could leave the room if he wants. The intake procedure is done, and so is his minimal obligation to patient care. But something feels wrong about leaving him. More than that, something feels utterly wrong about this boy being taken out of the clinic, away from his line of sight, where he can’t see what will happen next. He only knows it won’t be good. 

A split second before he hears the clinic doors whoosh open, Sebastian steps closer to his patient, lowering his voice to a quick, urgent whisper. “Keep an eye on that broken nose,” he advises. “If you have any trouble breathing as it heals, please don’t hesitate to let your assigned handler know that you need medical attention, okay?”

The boy hitches in a breath but doesn’t respond. Sebastian takes half a step closer. 

“Look, you have a right to medical assistance,” he says, the words feeling like treason on his tongue despite knowing their written truth. “Even here. Even now. You can always come see me here if you need to. They can’t legally prevent you from requesting care. Do you understand?”

Unexpectedly, something dark flashes in the boy’s eyes. Something less like the fear and dread he had witnessed earlier, and something much more akin to anger. Anger at Sebastian?

Before the interaction can go any further, they are interrupted by the unceremonious swing of the exam room door. The same two men who had brought him in - one with a fresh bandage on his face - push their way in, stepping between Sebastian and his patient. 

“Up you go, 7-5-0,” Handler Hernandez barks, and the boy is on his feet before he can finish the command, his hands behind his back, head bowed. 

“Oh, look who finally decided to behave,” the other one - Smith, maybe? - taunts as he sizes him up in a way that makes even Sebastian’s skin crawl. Just as he had prior to the visit, the man shifts his gaze to him, a sneer permanently embedded into his expression. “Does he get a lollipop for good behavior? Maybe a sticker?”

The boy doesn’t look up at him, but Sebastian thinks he sees his throat move. He feels a swell of rage rise into his throat, coming to a boiling point for the second time since he entered the room with this boy, but he swallows it back, keeping as level an expression as he can manage. 

“He was perfectly agreeable,” he responds tightly, refusing to play into whatever mockery he’s initiating. 

Smith answers him with a dismissive snort, turning his attention back to the boy like a predator who just found fresh meat. “What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, the thick rubber of his boots squeaking against the tile as he takes a step too far into the boy’s personal space. “Think we can go the easy way back, or would you prefer to do things the hard way again?”

The beat of silence in the room is painful as they await his response, which comes eventually in a subdued voice, through slightly gritted teeth and with his eyes on the floor. “The easy way. Sir.”

A snort from Hernandez breaks the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, he is escorted from the room and seems to take with him all the air in Sebastian's lungs. Naively, desperately, he hopes for the briefest moment of eye contact before he’s taken away from him. But his eyes stay downward, even as a large hand curls around his bicep and makes him stumble in his gait as he’s yanked forward. Sebastian watches helplessly as he disappears from sight, one singular thought slicing through his mind on a loop:

Who did this to you?

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

could you please do headcannons for what you think the boys would be like in 2021?

So, the pandemic also hit them pretty hard. Not because they couldn't make any money, but mainly because they couldn't hunt due to people social distancing and rules stating you couldn't be out after eight or nine at night.

So, for vampires - pretty difficult time. So, they hypnotised some folks to get them some bloodbags for the time being, so they could survive.

As everyone else, being stuck at home have them loads of time - which they already had, but now they used it for something else than just "sleep all day, party all night"

So, let's begin with Star. She picked up on so many hobbies. Making jewellery, making art, doing everyone's hair, painting the walls, redecorating her nook every couple of weeks, finally teaching herself to truly make her own clothes - making candles and soaps, she has done it all. And loved it all.

Style wise I dont think she changed all to much, just turned a bit more modern. I think she might have been into Yoga or Zumba for a while, and is still very much into mindfulness and practiced it quite often.

David read a lot, I think, and spent loads of time carving out a room for himself. Staying at home 24/7 made him realise that he needed some time away from his brothers because honestly, Paul and Marko can get a bit much sometimes. I also think he'd installed both WiFi and cable in the cave, so they all could watch movies and series together.

Stylewise the only new thing are new boots. The rest 100% the same as in the eighties. He just lost the mullet, although he's still not sure whether or not he likes his new look or not.

Paul has been - arguably - the most productive or the most annoying during lock-down. Since he couldn't go to concerts any more, he decided he'd pick up playing guitar again. Guitar wasn't enough however. He found an old piano, made a drumkit from some old barrels and had the greatest moment of joy when he found a triangle in someone's donations box. He has been trying to create a one-man-band, where he'd be playing every single instrument at the same time. Needless to say, the noise annoyed everyone.

Style wise I think he would be very much into the style from bands like Greta van Fleet, so not too different but enough to notice an actual style change.

Marko has definitely redone the Jim Morrison mural, and made several more with their other favourite artists. Since there was a big fight about who should be on the wall, Marko decided to just make it like a huge picture, having everyone on it in some sort of pose, to please every inhabitant of the cave. Also - he's become a grandparent. His pigeons had little baby pigeons, which he'd been happily taking care off.

Style wise I don't think he'd ever throw away his jacket. I think he just started with a new one. So, he has a new jacket with less patches than the original. The rest style wise is pretty much punk. He no longer had a mullet, instead he colours his hair (or parts of it) in any colour you could imagine.

Dwayne finally had the time to read all of his "to be read" books. Beside that I think he's the one that would actually wake up early and take a walk at sunset, so he could escape the cave for a little while. He'd bingewatch a lot of series, movies and documentaries. And you can tell me whatever you want, but he's the kind of person to do puzzles during lockdown.

Style wise he is pretty much a darker version of My Chemical Romance's Danger Days era? That style combined with his from the eighties is him now, I guess.

Laddie wasn't the biggest fan of lock doen at first - I mean, the poor kid has only been a full vampire for 20 years and he is not ready to be stuck inside. When he realises he could bribe any of the boys into buying him several game computers if he promised not to annoy them, he thankfully abused his new found power. A PlayStation and a Nintendo were his greatest joy during the pandemic.

Style wise he's a mixture of all the boys, I guess. They raised him after all.