#which with the professional setting makes him very polite and formal (which he is)

[dkniade]

I remember, years ago when I first started learning Japanese, I had no idea how Japanese first person pronouns worked or which one to choose, so for a short while I used “Dusk” while introducing myself (instead of, say, formal gender netrual 私 / watashi that, perhaps unknown to me, can be taken as feminine in an informal setting like on social media). Maybe I thought “When in doubt, use your own alias of course.”

…..meaning for a short while I spoke Japanese kinda like English dub Paimon. 恥ずかしい…

[lovecrime2]

Hannibal Lecter x Reader

summary: you begin therapy with Dr. Lecter, a man who you quickly learn much from. from his intellectuality, to the darkness hidden in the furthest parts of his mind, you become enraptured with him. will he feel the same about you? therapy sessions turn into exchanging books with notes, cooking together, and seeing more of each other in ways you both never thought possible. a love story.

authors note: hello!! this fic will have multiple chapters and i’m so excited to start this! it’s also on a03. and im creating a playlist for this!!

Chapter I: Prima

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“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now, miss.” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.

You were too.

Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.

You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.

You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.

“Thank you very much,” you replied.

You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.

He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.

“Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.

“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.

“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.

It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.

After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.

“Have a seat, Miss L/N.” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.

“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.

“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.

“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.

“You have emotional regulation issues, accompanied by social anxiety. Past traumas, which I’m sure are accompanied by self-image problems, am I correct?” he asked at the end of his statement.

“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was later out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.

“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment, Miss L/N?” he asked you, eyes endlessly boring into you.

“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.

“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.

“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.

“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.

“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.

“Of course.” you replied.

And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.

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[thoughtssvt]

short nanami & megumi speech analysis

it's so interesting to me how nanami's speaking mannerisms translate through culture. not hating on how anyone writes him or anything, i just find it interesting.

because most of the time in fics/smaus kento speaks like he's writing a work email, right? very professional-esque, something you'd relate to a corporate setting, or just very rigid/ no slang way of speaking. when in japanese he just speaks very formally. even in fights he takes the extra time to use the polite words (which is often a longer way of saying things -- which now that i think about it would technically be how he's characterized in english if we're talking about how lengthy the sentences get i digress)

i think the only time he broke polite speech was in the fight with dagon when he called everyone to gather.

it also does make me think about megumi bc he's about the only other character who constantly uses polite speech even in the fight with dagon and any other fatal battle. with the other first years his speech is more lax and casual because they're of the same age and status but way more polite than you'd hear teenagers talk (at least in the 'verse)

in contrast he doesn't actually use polite speech when he talks to tsumiki, at least from what we saw (and i haven't fact checked myself but i also think he drops polite speech when he thinks to himself whereas i believe nanami still uses polite speech when he thinks)

this lowkey makes me headcanon that kid megumi shadowed nanami during a mission once and the way he carried himself just had megumi's eyes gleaming.

especially bc of his speech the earliest we've seen him (when he first meets gojo) he uses "あんた誰" antadare = who are you? the use of あんた anta being rude especially to a stranger. he was also in first grade so he probably just switched to using polite speech after learning, but i'm gonna stop here bc i only meant to talk about nanami but now im thinking about how itadori's speech changed just very slightly when he was talking to ozawa since he called her "ozawa-chan" and he usually only uses the suffix honorifics like -sensei--

idk how i got here

anyway good luck studying japanese, yall!

i've also been wanting to talk about the change in characters' character when they have siblings and their change in speech just across some of my favorite anime but i need to fact check myself lol

[lemonfairy-yearns]

Template by @espresso-ships

and for fun I'm going to over-explain my answers >:)

who's most likely to-

get a tattoo of their s/o's name: its Beetlejuice. bro has a lot of old tattoos of people he thought he'd be with forever but ditched his weird ass after they saw that(among other things). Pontiferous would NEVER put a lover's name on himself because in fae etiquette that would be like taking ownership of someone permanently, and that's a little too far for him.

fall for a scam: Pontiferous has almost NO digital/telephone "street smarts", but since he's usually surrounded by royal advisors or Beej(a professional scam artist), He's safe enough from wiring all his money to whoever asks nicely.

beat up someone who was mean to their s/o: both of them certainly WOULD, but Beej is more willing to use his trickster powers on a dime to amuse himself and/or on anyone who inconveniences him/Ponti. He often just starts messing with people just to make Pontiferous laugh(which works). If Ponti were to administer karmic justice onto someone being rude to his Bug(Beetlejuice), the person being rude better enjoy their new existence as a box of chocolate dipped cockroaches set on Beej's beside table. pushing Pontiferous to this point a bit harder though.

send an illicit text to the wrong person: Pontiferous is a very steamy romantic but TERRIBLE at managing his phone contacts. He has a line outside his bedroom of fairies who got the wrong text but would like to have a word with the prince if they may be so bold ;3 . Beej can barely get his phone to turn on with his greasy fingers, so he just writes Very Formal Emails on his ancient PC (because he's been a bio-exorcist for so long he has cracked getting messages to the people they're meant to get to. He's got a website and form letters and everything ooOOoh, web designer moment.)

Drink too much: Beej enjoys drinking more, and Pontiferous LOVES to spurn him on so he can see how much Beej can put away before he starts committing property damage. Also Beej is a Cocktails enjoyer, whereas Ponti enjoys drinks with alcohol added as a bonus flavor(eg: whiskey coffee, Bailys hot cocoa).

Forget an anniversary: Beetlejuice doesn't even realize that they have an anniversary(he hesitates to think they're even dating) and Pontiferous is too "polite" (read: cowardly) to remind him. but he has the exact date and time written in a book to give to Beej when they both eventually assert that they are indeed dating.

Burn the kitchen down when cooking: Beetlejuice, but make no mistake it is PART OF HIS RECIPE. he has a PLAN do NOT get in the way.

Apologizes first: Pontiferous is the king of over-apologizing, usually just to get people to shut up and because he needs to be thought of as polite, but. He's tired of being nice. He wants to go ape shit. Beej enables this.

Initiates a kiss: at any given moment, Pontiferous may need to be tied down to keep him from making out sloppy style with that freak for 6 solid hours. his advisors are so tired of his ass, why does he want that one???

[also-an-art]

Could you pretty please with a cherry on top write Schl/att and Q getting back from fancy dinner gathering of sorts, and Schl/att not being able to properly belch or burp until they both finally are back

Schl/att hadn't been to an event that required him to dress actually formally instead of just the casually dressy way he usually dresses since his wedding, which was a couple months and more than a couple pounds ago. His wedding suit still fits fine for all intents and purposes, even though it certainly doesn't fit as well as it did when it was tailored, so when Q brings him along as his date to the fancy diplomacy dinner Tub/bo was sending him to as his secretary of state, he figures it'll be fine to simply wear the suit without the vest to dress it down a little-- and give him a little more room to breathe.

For all intents and purposes, the dinner goes swimmingly well-- it's hosted near spawn, in the Greater DS/MP, and there are delegates from all of their neighboring countries but also many from outside of the server there, a rare occurance, since Dream usually keeps the border very locked down, although he's been less strict since the war ended. Schl/att knows the events of his election and presidency were highly publicized, both on and outside of the server, and that he was already a fairly well known public figure before his election. So he doesn't have to guess at why there are so many sidelong stares at him throughout the night, or why so many people attempt to engage in diplomatic conversations with him, which he politely redirects to Q and cheerfully explains he's only here as his plus one.

He feels a little overly scrutinized, both because of his reputation he hasn't necessarily had the chance to clear outside of the server and because of the clear physical changes he's gone through since he was in the public eye, but he's used to it, and takes it in stride, especially with Q by his side, being so wonderful and charismatic and charming as he always is. It's also not enough scrutiny to stop him from eating, frankly, an obscene amount of the ridiculously good and fancy food that's provided for them. Even though he's determined to get as much food out of it as possible, he's also not looking to embarrass Q or himself by having bad table manners, so he uses all the correct silverware, keeps his face clean, and engages in all the professional talk he's supposed to all dinner. By the end of, Jesus, like seven courses and a decent amount of non-alcoholic sparkling cider, the pressure in his stuffed belly is immense, bulging against the now infinitely too small waist and of his pants, and there's nothing he wants more than to undo his belt and unzip his pants and burp and moan in private.

Q seems acutely aware of his state and his struggle, and seems to be attempting to finish up the conversation he's having with a very bubbly diplomat as politely as he can, but she doesn't seem to be getting the hint. Schl/att finds himself hardly able to speak, focusing all his energy on keeping his breathing steady and not slumping back to reveal how enormously bloated he is. He keeps sipping his glass of cider, which he's not sure if is helping his situation or worsening it.

Finally, Q gets out of the conversation and tells a couple very polite goodbyes, while Schl/att focuses on standing up as gracefully as he can and not showing it on his face the way the heaviness of his meal really sets in as he gets to his feet. Q leads him outside at a brisk pace, looping his arm through his comfortingly.

"You alright?" he asks softly as they leave the banquet hall and step out into the warm summer night.

Schl/att takes a quick moment to glance around and make sure no one else is leaving or loitering around at that moment, then brings a fist up to even slightly attempt to cover a long, rumbling belch that brings immediate relief.

"Jesus!" Q laughs, an unmistakable spark of desire in his eyes. "Are you alright now?"

"Better," Schl/att admits sheepishly, slightly flushed, covering another deep burp as best as he can. "I... I really overdid it."

"No kidding," Q grins, giving a quick glance around of his own before putting an appraising hand on his belly. "These buttons are about to start pulling, you know."

"Fuck," Schl/att curses, glancing down to see that he's right. He was so preoccupied with his pants he didn't even notice how similarly tight his shirt was. "I need to get out of these pants."

Another burp takes him by surprise, and he lets out a quietly strained moan. He can practically see Q's eyes dilate in real time.

"I agree," he purrs. "Let's get you home."

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Miles C. Peyote and Howie Thetaxi

(I’ve already made an information post like this, but said post is pretty long; in fact, it’ll just get longer and more expansive as I develop new characters and stories for [The Future Mob Project]. And I’m worried that the sheer length will make readers lose interest when they click on a link to look for a specific character. So, I’ll be making separate information pages for each character while still maintaining the all-inclusive post. Got it? Good.)

Who They’re Based Off Of: Lewis Dawkins (Dawko) and Ryan (8-BitRyan), respectively.

Their Methods of Work: When your reputation precedes you from all the way across the pond, you’ve definitely done something right! (Unless that was never your intention, in which case you’ve done something horribly, horribly wrong.) Remember the board game Mouse Trap? Well, Miles probably played it a few too many times in his youth, if the booby traps he sets up nowadays are anything to go by. Whether the goal is to kill or simply capture someone, his designs never fail to be. . .elaborate. Howie, meanwhile, doubles as a mechanic and driver. From ditching cops to running enemies off the road, he has more than enough skill to make professional racers envious. Never, NEVER forget the importance of seatbelts if you’re getting into a car with him. (Also, never put your feet on the dash. It’s rude.)

Red Attire: For Miles, a pair of leather boots (Oxblood). For Howie, a pair of gauge earrings (Carnelian)

Notes:

These two got their start in The Marble Hummingbirds, a different mob based in the UK that has had a strong alliance with The Pentas Family for years now. As part of standard underground affairs, Miles and Howie volunteered to relocate to the US and work more closely with Murdock and the others. The adjustment was a bit difficult (especially for Howie), but they both understand that it makes several aspects of business more efficient. They both retain a good balance of loyalty between their original crew and their new one.

Miles is selective when it comes to speaking. He’ll talk freely when he’s among people he trusts or is in a place that he’s deemed safe/comfortable, but when he’s out in public, he’s just. . .very quiet. He’ll still talk a little for the sake of politeness or formality, but only a little. If an area is open or unfamiliar, he’ll usually prefer to use body language and the like. (This does absolutely NOT stop him from cackling like a maniac over his traps.)

Howie has no qualms about reckless driving. Swerving, speeding, staging accidents; he can do it all without batting an eye. Whatever it takes to get himself and his buddies (plus their cargo) from Point A to Point B without getting stopped or caught. However, this mindset only applies to his personal driving. When he’s casually out and about, he can’t stand other drivers who tailgate, block lanes, cut others off, etc. If you act rude toward him in traffic, he can and will make a side-quest out of finding a way to get back at you. And yes, this extends to when he’s on the job. It’s not at all uncommon for him to go back and forth between chatting with his passengers and yelling at idiots on the road in the middle of a high-stakes-chase.

Miles has a habit of collecting plushies; especially odd-looking ones. (For example: the creepy-yet-cute stuff you might find on Etsy.) But his plushies aren’t just for aesthetic or decoration. He’s modified each and every one of them to be soft little storage units. Some have well-hidden zippers in their backs, while others have their heads function as the lids to jars stuffed inside their stomachs. Miles uses this strategy to hide valuables, such as varying sums of money or the odd piece of jewelry taken from a target.

Howie is miraculously conscious of animals on the road. That’s one of few exceptions to his typical stance on get-away-driving. He'll always make sure to avoid hitting cats, dogs, raccoons, deer. . .or squirrels. As a matter of fact, one squirrel that he managed to spare back in the day seems to have pledged a life-debt to him. Seriously, he met this squirrel while he was still working in the UK, and by now it’s followed him to the US. Wherever Howie is, the squirrel always seems to be somewhere in the background, just watching and waiting.

Along with all the get-away driving stuff, Howie has helped The Pentas Family to form its very own chop-shop. Whenever cars are stolen from targets or enemies, Howie will be there to dismantle or sabotage said cars. Legitimate parts are sold, and certain jobs involve filling a vehicle with counterfeit parts in order to frame its owner. 

Ever since relocating, both Miles and Howie live out of The Five Seasons, a hotel near the Cove Port Inlet’s city entrance. The building is connected to the abandoned subway tunnels, and the duo rotates between sharing the hidden den; Miles will use it to build/test his traps, and Howie will use it simply to store/tamper with various car parts. The hotel just so happens to be right across the street from the car repair garage (Oh, For God’s Brake!) that Howie uses for his day-job.

Current Stories: [TBA]

@sammys-magical-au

[cellythefloshie]

ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥ: A Coworker Romance with Patrice Bergeron  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ and there's an age gap ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Celly's 300 Follower Appreciation

-you wanted to be a serious journalist

-something beyond how-to columns, or cosmetic reviews in beauty magazines

-but as a woman in journalism it was hard to be taken seriously

-so when you saw an opening for a beat writer with the Boston Bruins you had to jump at the opportunity

-you were sure you wouldn’t get the job

-especially since you were still trying to find your footing after university

-but it was exactly what the team was looking for

-they needed a young voice to help drive their viewership in younger generations

-the team didn’t know what to expect when they were told to expect a fresh face among the team of writers

-especially when you were set to start during a set of reload games

-you were nervous as you showed up with your credentials and boarded the team plane

-the rest of the writers welcomed you with open arms

-and made you feel at home in an instant

-they made you feel so comfortable that you didn’t notice some of the younger players gawking at you from their seats and speaking in hushed whispers

-whispered that would be silenced by a single stern glance from their Captain, Patrice Bergeron

-he wasn’t going to risk having one of the kids make you uncomfortable

-at the end of the day you were all part of the same team and they would need to maintain a certain level of professionalism

-but that was something even he came to struggle with

-it had only taken one interview for his composure to falter

-not only did Patrice think you were beautiful, but you were also eloquent and direct with your words

-you had a confidence that was contagious and demanded respect that was instantly offered

-you were in your element

-and he knew you were going to excel with the team

-which meant he had to assure the boys were on their best behaviour

-including himself

-which became more difficult with each interaction with you

-you were alluring, even if you weren’t trying to be

-and telling himself that he couldn’t have you made you all the more tempting

-he often had to tell himself you were just being polite and not flirting with him

-even while he oh so subtly flirted with you

-because why would you be interested in a man 10-12 years your senior?

-but you were interested

-very interested

-you had never had a man treat you so well

-he had always opened the doors for you

-listened to what you had to say

-and didn’t treat you as if you knew nothing about hockey

-what a dangerous thing it was being respected by a man

-because it had you forming a school-girl-type crush on him

-he was an unattainable, respectable man

-forbidden by the formalities of working together

-but it didn’t stop you from having your little secret crush

-your little daydreams about what it would be like to kiss him

-to imagine what it would feel like to feel his touch on your body

-and you thought of it at the worst of times

-during a game when he was on the ice

-during post-game interviews when he was drenched in sweat

-during the little coffee dates you would have while on the road that seemed like nothing more than two coworkers trying to have a semblance of normalcy while on the road

-little did you know he was having these same thoughts about you

-all the while assuring the other players didn’t make any advances on you

-because if he couldn’t have you, no one could

-but it all imploded after a huge regular season win

-one that would cement the team as one of the greatest in NHL history

-the post-game interviews were done

-but you lingered

-soaking it all in

-you stood alone in the locker room

-that was until you spotted Bergeron in the doorway 

-his hair was wet from his shower and he had redressed in his gameday suit

-you offered him a smile as he joined you in the room, offering to help you take your bags out to your car

-you were quick to protest, reaching for your bag before he could take hold of it

-instead, your hand had met his before either of you could reach the bag

-the touch rendered you both still

-you looked up and him

-and met his dark eyes that only seemed to darken further at the touch

-your lips parted to apologize, your hand ready to recoil

-but Bergeron was already taking hold of your hand

-and he used it to draw you flush against his frame

-your hands found his chest and gripped at the fabric of his button down

-and Patrice was leaning in and met your lips in a firm kiss

-it was one of desperation

-as if he had spent days walking through a desert and you were the first sip of water to meet his lips

-Patrice drank you in, his hands large against your back as he held you to him

-and when he realized you were matching his desperation

-he hoisted you up from the ground and carried you to the edge of the room

-carefully he sat down in the stall that had already been cleared of his equipment for the next road trip and only his nameplate had remained

-you rested there, straddling his lap as your lips continued to move against his

-his touch wrinkled your clothes and came down to rest on your hips 

-his firm touch angled your hips just right and help grind you down over his growing erection

-but it was only when Patrice let out a low, guttural moan against your lips that you both stopped

-not that you wanted to

-but it wasn’t the place for that

-you remained in his lap, breathless and faces mere inches from one another

-you could feel his every exasperated breath

-Patrice raised a hand up carefully, stroking your now messy hair back and out of your face

-it sent your eyes fluttering, a warm smile overtaking your features

-“i’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself-”

-and you could only blush as you tried to hide your grin

-“if we’re going to do this, we should do it properly-”

-“in a bed?”

-“after a few dates,” he hummed out and stroked a thumb over your cheek slowly, “i’m not some twenty-something just looking to fuck-”

-it was refreshing to hear

-for so long that was all you had been presented with

-with Patrice was a real man

-a man who respected you first before all else

-and together you put aside the fears of having a relationship with a coworker 

-and the fears of what the age gap between you could present and focused on one thing: each other

-for who you worked for or how old you were would mean nothing if it ended in love

[holly-louisexox]

Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 1

*Masterlist*

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices...

...But then things changed.

Not my Gif

"'Cause It's the end and I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid to die."

Finding the perfect mix and blend of any sort of music was always a challenge for any sound technician, especially when it came to live music that included a lot of electric guitar, loud drums and heavy vocals- not to mention the odd inclusion of a violin.  For Delia Vincent, this was her first big run of a sound tech career since graduating university. Sure she had done a few smaller production shows here and there and they all went successfully but this was a massive step for her, this time she was doing the sound tech for the American tour of Black Veil Brides. Safe to say she was feeling the pressure but she was determined to not fuck this up, after all, this was her lucky break; right?

As the song came to a close and ending the set list, Delia found herself clapping and cheering which brought the band's attention to her; considering the first show was a smaller more intimate venue everything echoed from the empty space and the sound desk wasn't too far from the stage.

"I'm sorry, who the hell are you?" the lead singer asks into his microphone before jumping down from stage and approaching her- the rest of the band following in pursuit of his action.

"Right, sorry, I haven't formally introduced myself yet. Hi, I'm Delia and I will be your sound technician for this tour." Delia smiles politely extending her hand for the 5 members to shake, however only 4 of them accepted her offer and introduced themselves, the front man of the band just stared her down as if analysing her.

"Aren't you a little young to be doing sound tech?" He continues to question her whilst scrunching up his nose a little- honestly, if he wasn't being such a dick Delia may have even gone far enough to say he was an attractive guy. But no matter, she had to keep thing formal and professional, even if he was already starting to get under her skin, this tour was a great opportunity and she wasn't about to let some snobby lead singer ruin that for her.

"Andy shut the fuck up!" CC whacks him around the head making the lead singer now known as Andy send him death glares whilst rubbing the spot of assault. "I'm so sorry about him Delia."

"No it's okay, actually, I graduated from a university in Italy 5 years ago. I did a Bachelor's and Master's degree in sound and lighting and after graduating decided I preferred the sound aspect over lighting so have spent the last 5 years doing sound tech for smaller productions and working up. Very honoured to be working with you guys by the way." Despite the uncomfortable feeling Delia was feeling from the harsh stare of Andy, she was adamant not to let her smile falter.  

"Right." Andy nods, although his face had softened his words remained harsh "Just don't fuck this up for us and I guess we'll be fine." With that Andy walks off and towards backstage leaving Delia and the other 4 members standing awkwardly.

"Yet again, I'm so sorry about him. Believe it or not he's a decent guy deep down, he used to be a lot nicer before... Well before some things changed for him let's just say." CC defends him before placing a hand on Delia's shoulder for comfort "Just don't take it personally okay? From my ear piece it sounded great, you've got this."

"Thanks mate, means a lot honestly." Delia nods in acceptance of his kind words not really knowing what else to say after such an awkward first encounter with her new work colleges.

"Hey, so um, we're doing drinks after show tonight just to, you know, celebrate kicking off tour. You should join us. Since we'll be working with you for the next few weeks it would be cool to get to know you." Lonny suggests sending a smile Delia's way to try and relax the tension that was surround the group.

"Yeah sure, count me in." Delia nods again unsure of how exactly to react.

"Alright! Well, great job guys, let's get out of here before VIP shows up." Jinxx cheers as the 4 guys start high fiving each other before walking the same route Andy took moments ago.

Well this will certainly be an interesting few weeks...

[liskantope]

I don't necessarily object to everyone saying their pronouns in a circle, but I wish it were more acceptable to opt out. I don't want anybody to try to force themselves to use pronouns for me that don't seem right, and I'm not very distressed by any of the three common pronouns, so really I just want people to address me by whatever pronoun is most natural/comfortable. This is different from wanting someone to use he/she/they in equal proportions!

(When people ask me my pronouns directly, I'll explain this if I know them well/there's time, or just say the pronouns that people use most often for me. Which is fine! But I don't have some strongly-held preference for it; if anything, I kind of hope someone uses the opposite gendered pronouns for me so I can see how I react to them.)

Thanks for the data point! I suppose I might not be as bothered about the "pronoun circle" thing if it were socially acceptable to opt out (which I guess is what "David" from the story in the thread of my last post was essentially trying to do, politely). But I feel nearly as cringy verbally opting out as I would saying "he/him" after my name, and in the sort of crowd that does "pronoun circles", I have a feeling what would then happen is that people would use "they/them" for me out of a (I suspect performative!) lack of knowledge about my likely pronouns, which somehow cuts to the heart of why on a visceral level I find the whole thing eye-rolling.

I have occasionally been called "they/them" in real life by people in social circles like that and haven't particularly minded it, though, just felt bemused more than anything. In a purely online context (especially when, as on Tumblr, I'm under a pseudonym, nobody is seeing my face or hearing my voice, etc.), being referred to as "they/them" doesn't feel terribly weird or bothersome to me at all, maybe just the tiniest bit strange but hardly even that.

I think what all of this is betraying in me is a (raw, not entirely endorsed, maybe semi-justifiable but only in a much longer, deeper post) wish on my part that pronouns be treated as having something to do with and some strong correlation with a person's name and appearance and presentation. The "pronoun circle" enthusiasts seem, to my strong impressions, to be trying to manufacture a set of societal assumptions where pronouns have no relationship whatsoever to anything externally perceivable about a person. This bothers me on a gut level that, again, I can't really explain or justify right here and now.

(Also, leaving aside pronouns, in the first place I find just going around in a circle just to say names in most non-professional settings to be kind of awkwardly formal and makes me feel a little silly.)

[a-rumbly-in-my-tumbly]

All right (cracks knuckles)

Professional Japanese translator time!

You're right that the way the characters talk does say a lot about their personalities-- I would say that as far as the gap being too wide is concerned, that title would go to Edmond. Especially in the earlier intimacy rooms, their interactions don't really come across well because tbh, English is REALLY lacking when it comes to translating characters whose internal struggle is the problem. Essentially, it comes across as noncon when it isn't.

BUT, on to Kuya! I wouldn't particularly say he's polite as he is very aware of how hierarchies function. Sure, he says the right words, but it's more to make sure that, when he does do something to amuse himself, his victims have nothing to point to about his CHARACTER. He's seen what happens to rude, haughty yokai--because he's often the one to do it.

So no, he's not polite. He's sardonic. Painfully cynical. Acting in a way that his life suggests should be default (which is why he gets onto Eiden for being so naive, but can't dislike him. After all, if everyone just realized their petty optimism was worthless, we'd all get along; but that would be boring, wouldn't it?). Kuya, therefore, is quite disdainful about titles (remember his reaction to the yokai falling all over him?) so his "old friend", "young master", "wolf pup" should be read with that same sardonic disdain. HOWEVER, this doesn't mean Kuya doesn't LIKE Eiden and the clan members; it's just that a part of him wishes it didn't. Wouldn't life be so much easier if he was HAPPY being "Master Kuya", benevolently doing favors for old friends, enjoying the company of others? Of course it would, and he knows this. But he also knows how pointless getting attached is.

As a related aside and somewhat of a circle back, boku as a pronoun, too, I would say is default more than formal, per se. Of course the nature of the character will change that (i.e. how Edmond's "watashi" doesn't come off as particularly polite so much as just humble, or how Rei's "ore" doesn't come off as full of himself so much as flippant). A lot of beginners from English are told about pronouns because English needs them, but Japanese really doesn't; and unless you're translating jidaigeki or something you really don't see the Truly Formal modes of address like "wagahai" 我輩 and so on; but I would argue it's because teachers from English are very aware that because pronouns are so optional, they are also still associated with gender (Megumi Ogata, nonbinary afab voice talent, refers to themselves with "boku", for example), so they don't want learners running around subtly gendering themselves without being aware of it; so it's easier just to say "watashi for girls, boku for boys" and leave it at that instead of trying to explain how "atashi" and "ore" are different, but not that different, and it's not that boys or men CAN'T use "watashi" or that girls and women can't or don't use "ore", it's just that a Japanese person from Japan will assume that you're making a mistake with your pronouns over it being a deliberate choice for many social reasons that stem from how Japan still sees the world as binary in terms of there are Japanese, and there are foreigners, and foreigners don't understand Japanese. So, it's easier, especially initially when you're still learning the language and wouldn't be able to explain your choice, to set it aside.

So. There you have it, re: Kuya. Tl;dr? Formal? Perhaps. Polite? I wouldn't say so, necessarily. Sardonic is the word here, absolutely. Though Rei can be too, because he's also Seen Some Shit in terms of "the way people are is largely bullshit", Kuya has accepted it in the core of his soul. He's not ANGRY about it, or frustrated the way Rei is. At least not anymore... except during those rare times when Eiden makes him hopeful that he may be wrong, and that's when he tests him, gets angry (like in the spring card), and tries to mess things up--he knows he's right, why can't these people see that?

As someone who kinda understands Japanese, the way the characters talk really adds a lot to their personality. I'm the type of person who really pays attention to the types of pronouns they use and Kuya's speech drives me nuts every time!!!

Okay, so first of all, we all know that Kuya has high regard for himself and that's justified. He's powerful and the wise old fox of the group plus, he's been with Huey the longest. With that being said, he talks way too respectfully and that gap in character really sells it for me.In Japanese he refers to himself as "boku" which is a very respectful term for a males. It's used in more formal settings or just situations that require more tact and manners in general. That's not all though, he uses it in its kanji form "僕" which means that it's even MORE formal! Just how cute is that?

Next, he never really refers to people with the pronouns for "you". He doesn't use terms like "omae", "anata", or "kimi" towards Eiden and the clan members but instead refers to them as titles like "wolf pup" for Garu/Karu, "old friend" for Quincy etc. This is just another show of Kuya talking very politely because using second-person pronouns can be seen as informal or rude in Japanese. As for Eiden, he refers to him as "Eito-san". Calling people by their names is just more respectful. In English, it's translated as "young master" and I think that's just a way for us to see how he still recognizes Eiden's position in some way. He also refers to Rei as such, so we can definitely see that Kuya recognizes hierarchial positions despite his personality. Even just generally, he uses "desu" and "masu" often so YES fox boy is very very respectful in his speech.

This is just word vomit so I don't know if I'm making any sense but I just cry inside everytime Kuya has new voiced lines because I also love the intonations in his voice. I don't really know Japanese fluently but I know enough to be able to play Japanese only games so if anyone wants to correct me or elaborate feel free to do so!

[donotexterminateupgradepudding]

Black Sails meta - an excellent example of show, don’t tell.

Season two of Black Sails does an excellent job during the flashbacks to tell us where Captain Flint came from, his relationship to Miranda and of course, his intimate relationship with Thomas Hamilton.  Over the course of those first five episodes we get snippets of events that run in parallel with the current timeline and why Flint is so goddamn dedicated to doing crazy shit in the name of Nassau and pirates.

The first set of flashbacks are around the first meeting of Lord Thomas Hamilton and rising star in the Royal Navy, Lt. James McGraw.  In this entire sequence we see that McGraw is wearing black gloves while everyone else in the background and Thomas have bare hands.  The fact in this far shot that you can’t see his hands is the best indication of those black gloves.

Thomas is wearing one of the super fancy long wigs and we can see a ring on his right pinky finger as well on his bare hand.  In contrast, James has his hair tied back in a simple ponytail and he wears his officer’s uniform.

James takes the naive Lord on a field trip in their second meeting to point out issues with piracy, specifically around the Caribbean. I love how Flint is just like, “the pirate is Davey something or other” with such a dismissive attitude that these men can all be lumped into one defining group.

For this, Thomas Hamilton is no longer wearing the super fancy wig but has switched it out for a little less formal one.  It results in one of my favorite conversations from the entire series.  I didn’t capture it in these shots, but our stoic Lt. McGraw is still wearing his black gloves.

This conversation also adds to the solid INTJ personality of Flint - one can have great ideas but knows that most people are likely to fuck them up; this also is shown in season one as Flint made sure to have Gates as his quartermaster for what was clearly years since he’s absolute shit at office politics.

The main point of the flashbacks in the first episode of season two want to make it clear that Flint is pragmatic, blunt and distant with closed off body language. The second episode has another flashback where Thomas starts off with the creation myth from Genesis and adds in extra bits that everyone needs a partner.  This is in his office where he’s still wearing the white wig while seated at his desk while Flint stands before him formally.  The only thing which has changed for him is the fact his hands are now bare, but held behind him.

Flint is still cautious of the man as a cold rain falls outside.

This is the only scene with the two of them - the rest of the flashback is between Flint and the Admiral who is both his father figure and professional mentor.  We learn that some time has passed between the scene with Thomas and the one at the pub as when left alone, other officers try to gang up on Flint and bully him speaking poorly of the Hamiltons which unleashes has rage, which only his mentor can stop.  These conversations reveal additional information, James is on first name basis with Thomas, indicating he’s become closer than from the opening scene above and he’s close enough with both Thomas and Miranda that he feels obliged to defend their collective honor. Admiral Hennessy has a good read on McGraw.  He knows everyone has a sort of ‘primal emotion’ in himself but McGraw’s is one that is darker and wilder than most.  Granted, he admits it is likely why his mentee has been an excellent naval officer and moving through the ranks smoothly and effectively.  But the Admiral is also concerned how deep that darkness is and what it would make McGraw capable of. 

I’m sure that this conversation stuck in the back of Lt. McGraw’s head and reminded him that when pushed he could do very dark and effective things.

Episode three has two flashbacks, the first one continues the intellectual discussion about what to do about the ‘pirate problem’ and shows how comfortable James has become in the presence of the Hamiltons and them with him.  Thomas is now without any wig or jacket and James has his sleeves rolled up and he’s comfortably seated in the chair also wearing only his military waistcoat.  This is a huge jump from episode one where both men are dressed for their respective stations and roles.

The table has half drunk wineglasses, papers and books scattered about.  We even see an empty plate with the silverware neatly off to the side indicating that James had eaten a meal with Thomas while working.  More importantly, this is a direct contrast with episode two where Thomas is seated while James is standing.  Now, James is seated and controlling the conversation while Thomas tries to determine how to fix Nassau.

True to form, the issue is laid out plainly.  The difficulty with Nassau is it is in a hard place to govern indirectly.  The anti-pirate propaganda pamphlet they look at shows that the current governor has been corrupted by the pirates and it is very easy to do.

Thomas can only listen across the table as his friend explains that the entire governmental set up for a place like Nassau is doomed to fail, due to the inherent nature of men and that anyone with a reasonable amount of intelligence will do more for himself and fuck the government.

And with this Lt. James McGraw has laid out one part of the goals of the infamous Captain Flint and those he works with, and against in the current timeline of the series.  Their entire conversation, the elements around them show that these two men have grown close and are not only at ease with each other physically, but can speak very openly with each other.

Their serious conversation is broken by Miranda entering to make sure that they are still alive, apparently having worked in the office for several hours non-stop, hence the food eaten in the room and the wine to help lubricate their sticky brains. . .  What is clear is that the relationship between Thomas and Miranda is a good one.

The two of them have a fondness that may not be defined by unbridled passion but they love each other and support each other.  This is also when Miranda loans James Don Quixote to help him to understand Thomas better, which I mentioned in my previous meta about the role of books).

We then get a flashback where our stoic navy man is more than willing to open his door to his apartment without a shirt to be met with Miranda Hamilton.  He seems completely confused why she’s there as though he were expecting someone else.  Miranda explains that she got his address from the carriage driver and invites herself into his place since it is awkward standing in the hallway of the apartment building.  I’m more than willing to read between the lines that 1.) he was expecting Thomas to come to his door which is why he so willingly opened it and 2.) Thomas may have given the information to Miranda worried or concerned and wanted her to reassure him with things.  I think that by this point, James was already involved with Thomas, but that Thomas had been paying him visits to his small flat.

James is able to get his undershirt on but his entire body language is super awkward.  He’s not keen on the idea of going to visit some other members of the aristocracy in lieu of her actual husband.

He’s quite cheeky in his reply with a large smirk as he tries to dissuade her until she cuts him off to explain that he’s worried how it would look to the rest of civil society.  Though the amount of flirting between the two of them is just - wow - kind of adorable how cheeky it all is. They try to outwit each other while making smirks at each other.

Of course, Miranda won’t be defeated by his concern for appearances and she changes her argument to ask is he is happy.  And man - does this question cause his brain to come to a grinding halt.

I think that this argument is how Miranda is setting James up to agree with her and allow himself to experience what she calls happiness.  She is incredibly straightforward and makes it clear to him to not worry about all the rumors and that she loves her husband and it is obvious that they do love each other. 

The flashback concludes with them in the carriage and James admits that he told the carriage driver to take her back home.  Miranda tells him theory of the two types of men who make their life at sea 1.) those who out of sense of duty are willing to leave their identity behind to and 2.) those who find the loss of identity to be the attraction of the career.  James playfully asks her which of the two men he is and she replies that he is very good at managing how people perceive him.  With this skill he is able to get what he wants without anyone realizing he set everything into motion in the first place.  She tells him that he’s concerned about what people think he might be doing behind closed doors; as opposed to the actual acts that he is doing behind those closed doors.  He’s not a prude who doesn’t do things because of morality or propriety - he just wants to appear so and he does exactly what he wants in private. 

The two flirt a little more as he takes her hand in his and they kiss in the carriage.  However, Miranda is the one who makes the move to sit on him as the flashback ends, showing that she is the one driving the physical relationship between them.

He doesn’t have an issue per se with kissing her, but when they briefly pull back, Miranda is eager while he seems distant.  By this point in the show, we know that Miranda is a very sexual woman and she has a high libido.  No judgement - just fact. 

She is more than willing to meet those needs but it is also clear that it is still better to be involved with someone who has a good relationship with Thomas.  We already know from the first season that Captain Flint and Mrs. Barlow are still sleeping together, but it is entirely for her and out of habit.  I can’t help but think that there is a sort of guilt or need to sleep with her out of obligation to Thomas when he was alive or how he promised to take care of her.  Honestly, if I were him, I’d see the logic of sleeping with her; Miranda is intelligent, attractive, and fun. 

Even if you weren’t madly in love with her, she’d be a good fuck.  He still loves her, but not in the same way that he loves Thomas.  The two of them have ten years of hardship and suffering and their lives are incredibly intertwined, you can’t just sever than and not have it impact the two of them.

Episode four has the flashback when things start to go wrong in regard to Lord Hamilton’s plans to deal with Nassau.  Thomas calls James over in a rush because he wants him to talk him out of his plans.  I love the casual flirty reply that James gives him at first before realizing things are more serious.  He flippantly replies that they don’t have a problem and even laughs a little.

But oh no, this is more serious as Thomas states that he has grown close to him and trusts him deeply.  And that is when James begins to look concerned.  Again, James is seated in a chair with his sword as they go over the plan.  Until Thomas says he wants to pardon all the pirates and that look on James’ face of ‘oooohhh fuuuccckkk’ as they know that Lord Alfred Hamilton is coming over for dinner and they will have to discuss this with him.

Interestingly, Thomas is the one standing while again, James is seated trying to be the voice of reason, aware of the situation in Nassau, in Whitehall, in the Navy etc.

When he gives his advice both as a member of the navy and then as a friend.

His words cut Thomas to the core and we end with a scene where he looks like he’s about to cry looking at James.

This is followed by the awkward dinner scene where Thomas’ father begins to argue with him over the plan Nassau.  Miranda tries to speak up and is cut down ruthlessly by Lord Hamilton as he can’t help but remark on her sexual activities making the mood worse.  Honestly, I don’t know why this is such a big deal; countless members of the upper classes had all sorts of affairs and as long as heirs were produced it wasn’t a horrible scandal.  But I don’t know exactly why the writers took this direction. 

It all comes to a crashing halt when James explodes in a very polite fashion (for him) telling the Lord of the house to leave his own home as Thomas laughs at the situation.

To try to prevent the plan from failure before even reaching the floor for debate, Thomas, Miranda and James try to rally support from his intellectual salons (which were likely a delight for Flint even if he didn’t speak, just watching and thinking through everything).

Only one person is willing to assist, Peter Ashe, who finally is formally introduced to Lt. McGraw, though they must have seen each other in these various salons and other events.

Episode five has too many flashbacks that are interrupted in my personal opinion, but I guess they were going to the frantic pace that is set by the concurrent events.

First off, we learn that some time has passed since the flashback left off.  Thomas has been fighting for his political cause while James was away to see Nassau for himself.  This is reflected in his new facial hair and highlighted by Thomas’s comment that it has been three months but felt twice as long.

Okay, we get it, you really missed him Thomas and I’m sure the feelings are likewise - but James has no good news for you.

None of the news that our Lieutenant has is good for the cause.  The governor got in a fight with a pirate over money and it resulted in punishment - the governor’s wife and son were drug out into the street and killed but he was kept alive to spread the word.  Yet, despite all of this we learn that James remains dedicated to Thomas’s plan, even emboldened by what he saw he reveals to Miranda.

However, everyone’s emotions are roiling.  Even before James had returned, Miranda wanted to leave town to take the heat off of Thomas . . . and with their continued push to fight back at Alfred Hamilton, James also is naive about things.  He falls back on the idea that he can still do what he wants ‘behind closed doors’ because he thinks the truth itself is too much to risk being made public.  This is where he’s wrong - it is the very truth (well through a not quite well known source) that ruins his career and he and Miranda are forced to accept the affair story and leave London. 

The bitterest part is that Admiral Hennessy assigned James McGraw to this because of his pragmatic attitude; unfortunately, since McGraw has been ‘swept away’ by the silly ideas of Thomas Hamilton and worse likely seen as seduced by him intellectually and romantically, the Admiral berates him.  Honestly, it is the most heartbreaking scene in the flashback for me, since the Admiral never considers that James saw the logic and promise in the plan, thus throwing his full support behind it.  He is the most skeptical and realistic person and seeing Nassau in person hasn’t shaken him from the plan it only causes him to double down.  This is even more bittersweet and ironic in season three when Woodes Rogers shows up with a ton of pardons and tries to use a variation on the plan that Thomas and James had originally created in 1705. 

Only at the end of the episode do we have a return to the awkward dinner scene where Thomas seeks comfort and support in James at the dinner table as Miranda simply sits there as they begin to make out.  You damn well know that the two of them likely retired elsewhere for a bit before trying to rally more support.  Come on, there is no way that anything that James has started is going to stop until well, it is the full stopping point.  The man never does anything halfway.

Miranda returns the copy of Meditations to James as we finally learn it was gifted and dedicated to him by Thomas.  That Thomas did not want James to be ashamed of their relationship, but this is directed to a man who wanted to craft a careful image of himself before others.

Was he ashamed of things?  I honestly don’t know, it really could go either way.  All of his actions are for Thomas and his vision for Nassau in his mind.  We never hear the conversation he had with Miranda when they were told to leave, but it is clear that he convinced her to join him in Nassau as they fulfilled their role as the fallen Lady and her Naval lover.  Personally, I like the INTJ angle that James preferred total privacy in regard to his relationship.  It is clear that Thomas was someone he let into his inner world and thoughts and he might just be doing the classic ‘I don’t talk about my relationship ever.’ but very INTJ move.  How he truly felt about Thomas was for him and Thomas alone. I think more of his anger would stem from how their lives were ruined, his career destroyed, all punishments of ‘civil society’.  Obviously, the logical solution to this is to say ‘Fuck you England!  I’ll just go to Nassau and become a very successful pirate instead and use my power and influence to fix Nassau without England.’  Yeah  . . . I guess that’s an option most people would take a hard pass on, but not when you can create Captain Flint to do it for you.

Our last dramatic flashback has another glimpse of a flashback as James reflects on his soft moments with Thomas; making out in his room, listening to Meditations read aloud by Thomas. 

They are all so - soft.  Incredibly soft and this is through the eyes of the man who would become the feared Captain Flint.  One of the few instances of true softness in the entire show.  I love how gently he caresses the book before opening it to see the little note to him.  Awwww, again so soft.

Another point that I’d like to bring up here is that with this soft book scene, we see Flint wearing his two rings.  I about drove myself nuts in the first two seasons spending too much time trying to track them to glean any additional information.  Season one episode eight shows his starting set up for the rings below.

In short, there is something there, but I’m not sure how much we can read into it compared to all of the book related plot points and character development.  There is a ring on his right ring finger and one on his pinky.  We know that he’s from a working class background so he wouldn’t have a family ring or anything like that.  I’d guess it has something to do with being a seaman or some sort of professional thing, since people are inclined to wear professional rings.    Furthermore, in all of the flashbacks to 1705 he wears ZERO rings.  Never.  Nothing.  The rings are clearly something that are a part of Captain Flint. 

I’m not expert on ring meanings but the ring finger one could have the lazy interpretation it is representative of a relationship.  Since he’s very careful about how others perceive him, it likely could double internally as a link to Thomas and externally to Miranda since those in the know, think she is his woman.  In season three he will outright refer to her as such to rile up his own crew.  Was she actually his woman?  No, but having people think that his ring is linked to her helps shape his image.  Aka our Captain is involved with a bookish Puritan woman . . .  Plus, Miranda still wears what is likely her wedding ring on her left ring finger from 1705 to her death in Ashe’s estate.

After Gates death, Flint moves the two rings over to his left hand.  They stay there for most of season two until he and Miranda go to meet their old friend Peter Ashe.  Again, with my limited knowledge of things the left hand is more about his intellect and feelings while the right hand is about power and presentation.  After they take the unnamed Spanish Man O’ War, we see him thinking in the background as he devises his return to Captain before they reach Nassau.  I think while he retools and revises things he’s going for the more subtle ring position; that he’s focused on what to do next and how to move forward now knowing that the Urca gold is practically theirs.  As long as they can turn around and do so.

So, maybe he’s regained his bravado and needs to really impress upon Ashe that he’s fully in charge of things and his willingness to seek out a compromise. Which is why only at the end of season two does he wear the rings on the right hand again.

I wasted too much effort trying to determine if his pinky ring is the same one that Thomas has in the flashbacks but that is not the case.  Thomas has one that he always wore on this right pinky and it also had some sort of gemstone set in it. As you can tell I’m totally into jewelry and know all sorts of things about them - I hope you can read my dripping sarcasm as I’m not sure if I could even stand to wear a ring in the first place. 

Flint’s pinky ring does not have any sort of stone set in it.  It would have been a clever detail to have him wear Thomas’ ring, but in no way in hell would have happened with how ruthless Alfred Hamilton was.

They were swiftly removed from London and Thomas was spirited away before Miranda or James even knew or could do anything about it.  And you’d guess that Thomas was likely wearing his ring when he was taken sooooo, yeah, cute fanfic idea but not supported by what the show has shown us visually.  I’m sure the most important gift from Thomas to James was that book above, since we know to quote Dufrense, ‘he likes his books’.

Overall though, Black Sails is a show that excelled in showing you what was happening in addition to telling you things through conversations between characters.  What confuses me is anyone who was watching this show and then got to episode five in season two and was completely shocked by the visual reveal that Thomas and James were deeply in love.  You can go all the way back to the sex scene with Miranda and James to know that it wasn’t romantic love there.  The fact that James wraps his arms around Thomas, yet can’t bring himself to even touch Miranda makes it quite clear how he saw his relationships with both of them.  Well, that is all for now.

[thewatercolours]

(Heads up - I was in kind of a wordy frame of mind when I wrote this... :-P)

Ah - I read this right away when you posted it, and now I am excited to reread for the comments!

You know, Graham-old-buddy-old-chum, reason would suggest you should just wear your quiver everywhere. Over your clothes. I do not actually want you to do this because it would ruin your cloak's swooshiness, but still. You wear your leather armour all the time, after all, suggesting you're always ready for a situation. So wouldn't always wearing your quiver make sense? (Let's face it - the leather set was probably a compromise at first. Like it was either he could keep dressing in his knightly adventurer look, which is at least dignified, or wear the more expected formalwear of a king, and he picked the former, not the formal.) But, um, let's focus on the story!

Also the archery opening is a good way to plant questions and a slight bit of tension as the story begins - a little preview of what's coming, rather than starting purely with political conversation.

Oh, this makes so much sense that surrounding countries would start closing in on Daventry once power shifted to a green, young king who's a little too inclined to trust. Everyone looking to gobble up their piece of the pie - or possible to swallow the whole thing up in one gulp.

I get the desire to prove himself, to meet with the ambassador without a guard breathing down his neck. But this is probably an example of a time when Graham's growing up instincts are tangling confusingly with the importance of security as a king. Around that age, it's healthy to strike out independently and distinguish your adulthood from your childhood, and when others attempt to help or protect you, it's fairly natural to push back because it feels like they doubt your capability. And how much more so for Graham, who has spent the last few years as a professional adventurer and has grown used to having everything in hand himself. It must feel stifling - and insecure - to be back under the careful watch of older people. But in this case, though No1 certainly has his doubts about Graham's naivete, it almost has less to do with Graham being immature or incaopable and more to do with the nation's good. The king must have guards, because even the most self sufficient king could get struck down or captured, and the stakes would not just affect him, but the whole population. And disentangling these two aspects from each other would be very tricky for a young king who's dealing with all the normal life milestones *and* a crown at the same time.

"And those have been frequent since the coronation." Putting it in its own paragraph makes it feel so ominous.

Yeeeeah... the fact that Graham and Manny called it an alliance (and Graham went around calling it that to anyone who would listen) would make it it really easy to throw shade on his attempts at actual diplomatic alliances. You've got a bad track record of one time, Graham, but it's a doozy. (You don't know the full extent of its dooziness yet...)

I mean, Graham, you haaave got just a bit of an ego. And this is literally No1's job - don't blame him for that. I mean, I bet it's easy to forget it's his primary function, what with the million and one tasks the guards have to take upon themselves in this understaffed castle. But the fact that his duty is to protect the king has nothing to do with how well or poorly you're doing. (Admittedly, No1 could be slightly more considerate in the way he's doing this, and Graham's resentment is also stemming from other stresses beyond this particular moment, but still. Both of you two, understand each other's needs. Get on it.)

Insidious! Hypnotic powder you don't have to ingest - hypnotic powder with some kind of enchantment to make it potent just from touching it!

I wonder how much of Graham's freeze response is natural and how much is the result of the stuff on the ambassador's hand. Maybe it has a small effect just from being in the vicinity. I imagine the ambassador is protected by some kind of magic so he doesn't hypnotize himself. Or get hypnotized by Graham. Wait - how does hypnotic powder even work? Does the powder "know" who administered it and whom the victim has to obey? Is it a generalized effect, like anyone could tell you to do something while you had it in your system, and you'd just go with it, Ella Enchanted style? (Obviously these questions are beyond the scope of this fic. I'm just spouting off.)

Nice callback! Earlier in the scene he said he was a knight before he was a king to prove he was fine to handle this situation himself. Now he thinks nearly the same words to himself, but this time in horror, because this fact is doing nothing to save him!

"The hand inched closer and closer, and the smell began to get stronger and stronger when suddenly, a different hand grabbed him. One that was firm and felt of metal gripped his cowl and yanked him further away. He admittedly choked at the clothing suddenly slamming into his throat, but that meant nothing when he realized who it was that grabbed and saved him in just the knick of time." No words. I just love this. "Stand down if you value your life." I love seeing him be all heroic. I can see this moment so visually. Graham grabbing No1's elbow, No1 en garde.

And just like that, all's well again. Yes Yes. Loved this. Loved this. Well done.

10: No1 shoving a startled King Graham behind him to protect him from a threat hehehe guard guard guard

He really should have had his archery kit in his pockets, Graham thought. He should really just have a constant spare one no matter the occasion.

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust the delegates or ambassadors or rulers of the neighboring kingdoms surrounding Daventry, if anything he knew he was a bit too trusting based on the uncertain humming and muttering belonging to Number One whenever the topic of alliances was brought up. In fact, the captain of the Royal Guard always made it his business to always, no matter the circumstances, make sure a guard was an arm’s length away whenever said delegates, ambassadors or rulers came to seek an audience with Graham. 

And those have been frequent since the coronation.

Graham thought this was a good thing, a chance to extend any olive branches or treaties or really anything. Number One thought it was good spirit, but revealed a bit too much of Graham’s naivety.

He recalled being annoyed that Number One dared insinuate that he was naive, that he couldn’t read people as well as he thought. 

(“And to prove it,” Graham began, his hands on his hips, “I’ll be meeting with the ambassador from overseas with no guard hovering over me.”

“You call it hovering, I call it protection, sire.” Number One glared. “Or are we going to not bring up the whole duel of wits fiasco with your so-called ‘alliance’?”

“One time doesn’t make me terrible in judgement of character, Number One.” Graham glared in return. 

“You’re right, it doesn’t. However, I still don’t exactly approve of your egotistical decision… especially with this particular ambassador. Word has it that he’s been doing a number to nobility… and you’re still in the single digits of your reign.”

“Words, but not facts.” Graham pointed out, disregarding the backhand Number One had just said regarding his ego. “And you forget, I was a knight first before a royal.”

Number One stared long and hard but eventually crossed his arms. “Very well, we won’t hover.”

“Excellent–”

“We will be at the door. At the ready for anything.”)

And that anything was right now, in the throne room, where the ambassador was smiling almost sinisterly. The earlier talk of alliance and comradery evaporated when the ambassador insisted that for the pact to truly have meaning, that Graham would shake his hand. A hand that reeked of what Graham could only describe as a mix of that horrible hypnotic powder he was all too familiar with and enchantment of a sort.

He should slap the hand away, Graham thought. 

He should shout for distress, Graham panicked.

He should run, Graham internally screamed.

But his body wasn’t moving. It was frozen in place. Frozen in fear. Frozen in self anger for not taking Number One’s words to heart. 

Zards, he thought, was this really how he was going to be done in? By some supposed ambassador that was undoubtedly drenched in the archaic arts? All because he both refused to listen to Number One and so stupidly forgot his archery kit? He got too comfortable, he belittled himself. He should know better than to leave his room without it. He’s an archer, for Heaven sake! He’s a knight before he was a king! 

Move, he shouted at his body. Move!

The hand inched closer and closer, and the smell began to get stronger and stronger when suddenly, a different hand grabbed him. One that was firm and felt of metal gripped his cowl and yanked him further away. He admittedly choked at the clothing suddenly slamming into his throat, but that meant nothing when he realized who it was that grabbed and saved him in just the knick of time. 

“Number One!” Graham gasped.

The guard stood between the king and the attacker, his sword unsheathed and aimed at the startled ambassador who raised his hands up in slight defeat as the point of the blade was aimed dangerously at the enemy’s throat.

“Stay behind me, sire.” Number One ordered before his attention was on the ambassador. “As for you, stand down if you value your life.”

The ambassador glanced at Graham, almost trying to intimidate him. And in a moment of panic, of feeling naked without his own means to defend himself, Graham gripped to Number One’s armor.

“Heh, you do not scare me.” The ambassador snarked. “For you see, I know what to do with your ilk, you’re just– ugh!” He gulped as the tip touched ever so slightly the neck. Not enough to bleed, but enough for it to be felt.

“No, I’d rather not hear you talk anymore. Heard enough of that with your so-called ‘allegiance declaration’ you rehearsed to my king.” He took a step closer, noting the ambassador stepping back and sweating just slightly, especially so when the doors to the Throne room swung open and Number Two came charging in with the others, arresting the man on the spot. 

Graham exhaled slowly, feeling his entire body shake with nerves of what just happened. He gripped his chest, trying to steady himself when Number One turned to look at him, his sword sheathed away. He knew he would owe a thousand debts to Number One, that he was never going to hear the end of it about his judgement call… but in this exact moment, he didn’t care.

“Are you alright?” Number One asked.

“Thank you.” Graham managed to say. “And… you were right. I’m sorry.”

There was a series of snark that was brewing that even Graham could feel from Number One’s stare. He braced himself when instead he felt a pat on his shoulder.

“I know. And know that no matter what, you’ll always be safe… even if I was right in the first place.”

He chuckled and smiled. “I know.”

[cursingtoji]

Royals

Pairing: Gojo x Roality/Sorcerer!Reader

Summary: Yuji was told by his sensei that someone very special was coming to evaluate his new cursed energy.

Warning: fem pronouns, slightly suggestive, hickeys, established relationship.

a/n: naruto's anbu uniform is what i based reader's outfit off, so keep that in mind i guess? i apologize if i forgot some tag in the warnings, feel free to point anything out to me. thank u and enjoy <3

“How pontual” Gojo smiled when he felt your presence on the top of the building he was standing along with Yuji.

“Huh?” Yuji looked around confused till he saw a black silhouette behind him.

“Hope you don’t mind Yuji-kun, I wanted a professional opinion and called a friend”.

“Are you sure this is the best place to do this Gojo?” You asked going around the boy with pink hair staring at his figure and sensing his cursed energy.

The building you agreed to meet him was one of the tallest in Tokyo, you could barely see the people on the streets from here.

“Sensei, is your friend a ninja?” Yuji asked, staring back at your figure, your black outfit left no skin to be shown while the kitsune mask covered your whole face and two swords remained crossed at your back.

“You worry too much Princess, don’t you believe I am the strongest?” You frown upon the use of the pet name. Yuji tilted his head to the side.

“I just don’t want things to go out of control” you moved your hands to remove the kitsune mask, your identity would still be protected by the mask that covered your nose and mouth beneath it, but Gojo stopped your hands as soon as you approached him.

“Keep it on until we finish okay?” He smiled, although he did not say anything else this was enough for you to understand he did not want the curse inside Yuji to cross eyes with you. “I’ll explain later, Yuji, now can you give us ten seconds with Sukuna?” Gojo stretched his arms preparing for a quick battle.

You moved to the corner of the building to give him space but still keeping an eye on the pink haired kid.

He was so young...

Black marks soon appeared on the kid’s body and the new cursed energy overwhelmed you making a shiver run up your spine.

As the heir of a clan that for centuries has the ability to control cursed energy, this scared you.

Sukuna’s energy was enough to destroy a big city like Tokyo as easily as a snap of a finger. In the past your clan helped Sukuna by increasing his cursed energy during battles but in the end, your clan also helped destroy Sukuna by suppressing his cursed energy as much as they could. Gojo asked you to come watch a quick demonstration, if the plan succeeded and Yuji managed to live long enough to eat all Sukuna’s fingers, it would be just a matter of time until the king of curses took control of the vessel and attempted some kind of mass destruction. If the time comes you wanted to be able to perform the same act that your clan did in the past.

Although, since Sukuna’s downfall your clan did not act as sorcerers anymore, instead they turned into rulers and politicians, living in big cities as Tokyo and controlling cursed energy just by existing there, a natural balance to the modern world, they would tell you, but none of this changed your mind when you decided to break the chain and become a sorcerer almost ten years ago.

The fight started when Sukuna ran towards Gojo murmuring something about seeing him again. Gojo controlled the situation fast by immobilizing Sukuna on the floor, far enough to not harm you.

“So?” Gojo asked, looking at your direction.

“You asked me to not do anything so I can’t say for sure, but I think it’s possible” you answered the white haired man.

Sukuna’s attention now was brought to you, he tried to read your cursed energy, you sensed that, but with the kitsune mask covering your face and eyes you doubt he recognized you as part of the clan that caused his downfall one thousand years ago.

Gojo again smiled at you, proud of you being able to take such a fast reading without messing with Sukuna’s energy, which he asked you to not do.

It would be better for everyone if Sukuna doesn’t make a target of you so soon.

“Alright, guess we are done for now” Gojo raised as soon as Yuji took back control of his body. You watched amazed as the cursed energy came back to a normal level.

Gojo asked Ijichi to drive Yuji back to the school and promised to talk to Yuji in the morning.

“I don’t know, Satoru. There’s only so much I can do alone, and I’m sure the rest of my clan won’t get involved with Sukuna if he returns. This is a huge responsibility for me...” you stopped talking, not even wanting to consider the possibility of such a powerful curse having complete control to do whatever he pleases and you not being able to do much by yourself.

“I won’t put you in danger, but for now it would be good if you could stick around Yuji, just to observe... I can put a good word for you with Yaga” Gojo dropped his arm around your shoulder playfully.

“You really want me to stay at jujutsu tech Tokyo just to keep an eye on him?” You removed the kitsune mask, now allowing Gojo to see your teasing eyes.

“I have my own selfish reasons too”.

The next morning Yuji crossed his path with Nanami around the school, having worked together once Yuji felt comfortable with asking Nanami about his sensei’s friend.

“Oi Nanami, do you know Gojo-sensei’s ninja friend? I met them last night but still don’t know what happened”.

Nanami stared at Yuji like he was speaking some foreign language “...Ninja?”

The elder was about to ask him to elaborate when the said sensei turned around the corner with you by his side.

“Gojo-san, Ojou-sama” Nanami bowed low when he noticed you coming closer.

“Ojou-sama?” Yuji looked at the person walking to them alongside Gojo. He did not recognize you at first, you now were using a colored Yukata and nothing covering your face.

“Nanami please, you know me long enough to drop this title” you smiled at your friend.

Yuji quickly made the connection between Nanami using the princess title and Gojo calling you Princess yesterday.

“Oh sensei, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. You two make a beautiful couple” Yuji smiled.

“Itadori, show respect, Y/n-sama is an actual royal” Nanami whispered to Yuji.

After the downfall of Sukuna your clan reigned for a while, being the heir of the main clan branch and if your clan was still reigning that would technically make you a princess. Nanami insisted on referring to you as Ojou-sama in public even though you two attended school together years ago and long passed the formal titles.

“Sorry” Yuji bowed, still confused.

“It’s okay Itadori-kun, we will have enough time to get to know each other” you assured the pink haired boy.

“You are moving here?” Nanami asked.

“Isn’t it great?” Gojo smiled widely, now placing his arms on your shoulders and Nanami’s. “It will be like old times again”.

“Yaga accepted my request to stay on the campus and assist the kids,” you explained Nanami. Of course he knew that by ‘the kids’ you mean Itadori and his new found cursed energy.

“What a great set of teachers you will have Yuji-kun” Gojo tight his grip around you and Nanami “Why don’t you go find Fushiguro and Kugusaki while I show y/n her room?”.

“Yes, sensei!” Yuji smiled and bowed again before leaving to find his team mates.

“Let’s keep y/n secret between us, okay Nanami?” Gojo asked now that the three of you were alone. “Sukuna might not find out about y/n’s origins if she doesn’t mess with his or Itadori’s energy, the elders agreed to keep her around for now as protection”.

“I see… Well let me know if you need anything, Ojou-sama” Namami replied and fixed his tie.

“I need you to stop using that title, Kento” you smiled again at your stubborn friend and dropped Gojo’s arm from your shoulder going back to the path that led to your dorm.

“Always so polite, Nanamin” Gojo teased “Just don’t forget I’m the only one allowed to get on my knees for her” he released Nanami’s shoulder leaving his fellow sorcerer flushed.

“What did you tell him?” you asked Gojo when he got back to your side.

“Nothing he doesn’t know already” his large palm touched your lower back.

Your arrangements with Gojo were something known only by the heads of your clan, the two of you and few close friends. A promise made almost ten years ago allowed you to attend jujutsu tech and become a sorcerer if the only descendant of the Gojo clan married you by the time both of you got to your thirties. There was nothing in it for Satoru, but he agreed even though he barely left his teenage years.

“Satoru, What are we gonna do now?” you asked looking at your feet.

“We can start by getting you a pretty uniform, maybe a short skirt and a v-line” the hand that wasn’t at your back moved to the collar of your Yukata exposing more of your neck and collar bones and all the purple and blue marks painted there “A masterpiece like that has to be shown”.

“You are shameless” you slapped his hand away and adjusted your Yukata back. His flirty personality taking your mind away from the new responsibility of being Yuji’s guardian. “You know, we are two years away from the arrangements and I still wonder why you accepted it” you confessed, stopping in your tracks.

“Oh Princess, I’ll always be taking the side of rebel soul and you so happened to be the one that stole my heart from day one, you are not getting cold feet now, are ya?” he leaned and placed his arm on the wall behind you, an old habit that made you flushed when you two were younger, but now you can only bite your lips and raise a hand to lower his blindfold and meet his shining eyes full of admiration.

“Marrying the prince that saved me and the strongest jujutsu sorcerer? How could I get scared of that?”.

“Prince huh? I can get used to it”.

© all content belongs to cursedmoonchild. please do not modify or repost; if you find reposted content please let me know, i have not consented to the repost of my content

[stormblessed95]

Hi Stormy, I always appreciate your take on things so would be curious to hear your thoughts on Jungkook calling Jin ‘yeobo’ - twice I believe?

No, not a Jinkooker here! 😝 And don’t think it means anything other than he clearly calls someone (Jimin) ‘yeobo’ frequently enough to slip up. Just curious as to why you think it wouldn’t have been cut from official content (which it was in, right? correct me if wrong) because it certainly exposes that Jungkook has *somebody* special in his life!

The delulu in me thinks by having that on record, if Jungkook ever slips and calls Jimin that on something live, it can be discounted but… delulu?

(Apologies if you already covered this somewhere! I think I’ve read your whole blog 😄 and don’t remember it being discussed.)

Lol hello anon 💜

JK calls Jin "Yeobo" (여보) (honey) Twice. Where he corrects himself afterwards to Hyung. I think all this shows is how close the two of them are. I don't think it hints that he slipped up and called Jin what he calls his partner. I don't think this proves he is dating Jin. I think this just proves what we all already know. Lol that BTS call each other pet names fairly consistently 😂 and the reason he corrected himself is because both of these times were in interviews where JK felt or looked more comfortable in them. But he corrected quickly to the more formal and polite "hyung" after he slipped because they are in a professional setting. It wasn't a causal place or time or thing, it was a professional interview about their work, and while they were still having fun and chill, polite speech is what you should use in a professional capacity such as this, which is where the correction came from.

And like I said, pet names between the members isn't anything new. I often very affectionately like to say that Jin is to JK what Tae is to Jimin. And the amount of pet names between vmin that they often use is, well its a lot. Lol not just soulmate, but your my angel, penicillin, little prince, etc etc etc. Or Hobi constantly refers to the maknae line as HIS baby's or HIS dolls.

And Jungkook calling Jimin Aegiya. Which is a more cuter and sweeter way of calling someone baby. Like term of endearment next level up baby wise, essentially like saying "babe" in English. And they have done this many times to each other.

Or when JK calls him Dangshin, which they other members have also used in reference to each other. This is basically a very formal "you" or a very informal "dear/darling" and considering the rest of speech used, it was leaning more towards informal

Here is a very long thread of all the members calling each other baby on multiple different occasions through the years lol

Or here is Tae calling Hobi Jagiya:

Jimin calling Yoongi baby:

Yoongi calling JK baby 3 times. (Also note here how they use Aegi, not Aegiya)

And I'll also just include this moment here, where during the 170226 fansign, JK was asked "what is Jimin's existence to you?" And JK replied "Honey❤"

When asked what they want to be called by their future girlfriends during a fansign, this what the boys all answered. Note JK/JM just want to be called Jimin-ah and Jungkook-ah here too. And how often JK drops honorifics with Jimin to just call him casually like that.

JK also said in the early years that he would want to call his future girlfriend Honey or Darling.

But basically what I'm saying here is that pet names is just bangtan together as a whole at this point. I don't think this is anything that can be used to define a relationship between members as its a group dynamic. So no, I don't think this is proof for Jinkook being boyfriend. I don't think this is proof of JK being in a relationship with anyone else and slipping up either, girlfriend, boyfriend, Jimin.... lol and everytime the members call each other pet names I think it's the cutest thing in the world, but it's not what makes me think one is in a relationship or not. And sometimes with certain pet names, context matters too.

[slashbitch2]

Wavelength

slight nsfw warning ;)

Eve had always felt that she stood out from those around her. That in every situation, in every group and at every point in her life, she was walking round on an entirely different wavelength. Although, living this way wasn't as direly lonely as it sounded, rather she learnt to appreciate the few and far apart moments with company. When someone would, for just a split second, understand her.

The first person to ever make her feel this way, and regrettably the only for a very long time, was Ted. He'd swept her off her feet and into a less isolated world, a concept so unfamiliar at the time that she'd allowed herself be dragged out to sea. Then there was Brandon, who she was told would change her whole world. And he did, for a while.

Brandon was her life preserver until his priorities changed; until Mother's day cards became Valentines day cards, movie nights were exchanged for house parties and homework for alcohol. But Eve wasn't the kind of mom to act as though this behaviour was unwarranted and abhorrent, so she let him wedge the door shut and clear his search history. She could cope with a little more distance.

Then along came Ted's affair, their crumbling marriage and eventual divorce. Before she knew it, she was drowning.

The all too familiar feeling of solitude reappeared, completely devastating for her when Brandon left for college. However, this time she swore that she wouldn't let it overwhelm her, and did everything possible to prevent herself from sinking. Which initially started with a class at a community college, and ended with her lying in the arms of both her colleague Amanda, and classmate Julian. And yet, after they'd hurriedly packed up their things and left, she felt no better.

Brandon was sitting on the porch when she found him later. His back was turned to her, but the hunched up posture and awkward shuffling said more than enough. In that moment, Eve reverted back to her old way of thinking. She came to the conclusion that she'd failed as a mother, that her mistake was unforgivable despite the years of morose behaviour and selfish demeanour Brandon had subjected her to.

For retribution, she removed Julian's number from her contacts, predicting that he wouldn't be able cope with remaining friends. He too immature, still in that irrational sulky stage of adolescence. Next, she specified to Amanda that what happened was a one time thing, though she was already way ahead of Eve, chatting casually like nothing had taken place that weekend. Her easy-going reaction was a nice break from the prevailing tension with Brandon, which she then mentioned to her friend.

She tried to casually bring the subject up in the same manner that she imagined Amanda would if the roles were reversed, acting like the issue was nothing to do with her.

"As much as I hate to use such an outdated phrase," Her friend said. "boys will be boys. "

Eve chuckled, though the general concern weighing down on her shoulders meant it came out as more of a scoff. "You can say that again."

There's a brief lull in conversation as Eve disinterestedly taps away at her phone while Amanda sips thoughtfully at her coffee. The silence is only invoked by an awareness of social standards, since there's much Eve wants to talk to her friend about, but feels would be inappropriate in public.

Eventually, Amanda's the one to break the silence. "Are you still looking for someone to fill in for Sarah?"

Eve's attention flickered back to the woman sitting opposite. "I am." She replied hesitantly, knowing that she ought to have posted the job advertisement weeks ago, but had forgotten.

"I know someone who'd be good." Amanda was sliding her phone across the table before Eve got the chance to respond.

The screen displayed what she could only assume was a job application, though the font was too small to actually read. Squinting, she picked up the device to try and glean some information about the potential applicant.

Amanda continued as Eve scrolled. "She hasn't worked with seniors before, but has managerial experience."

"Are you sure she'd want this job?" Eve asked apprehensively as she set the phone down. "Seems a little over-qualified to me."

"Yeah, she's serious about it." Amanda's expression grew more determined. "Y/N just moved here. Mentioned she was looking for a more lowkey kind of job."

Eve remained doubtful.

"She's travelled a lot. Had a lot of different jobs." Amanda took another sip of her drink. "But she said she wants to settle down somewhere. Get a job that'll take her to retirement- which was an exaggeration, but you get the gist."

"Well." Eve sighed. "You can't get much closer to retirement than working at a nursing home."

"Exactly. So can I pass on her contact details then?"

"Sure." She shrugged. Assuming that her friend's recommendation was genuinely helpful, then she would be saved from suffering through the tedious interview process, which was worth taking a risk for.

---

As Eve sat at her desk, the world around her faded into obscurity. Without Sarah as the assistant manager, she'd been suffocating under piles of neglected paperwork, only now forcing her way through it. The main thought motivating her was that you were due to arrive any minute, for what she'd described as a first informal interview. The idea of conducting anything more formal this late into the evening was unappealing. So, based on the unusual circumstance by which you'd applied, and the strange time slot reserved, the interview would be more casual.

Finding that her eyes were starting to strain, she granted herself a quick break to look round the office. Eventually she settled on looking out the window, content watching the world pass by. The day had been unexpectedly hot, and some of that humidity still lingered, but judging by the gentle breeze filtering in through a crack in the window, the evening must've started to cool. A soft pink colour filled the sky, darkening to orange where the sun had just set over the horizon. From the other direction, a deep blue had begun to filter into view, the only indication that night was approaching.

When her gaze drifted back to the room, she realised that the pink light was cast around the room, bathing every surface in a delicate glow. How the simple beauty of the evening had previously escaped her attention was a mystery. One that prompted Eve to take a break to admire it.

The break was short-lived, however, as a sharp knock at the door quickly stole her attention away.

"Come in." She called out but found her voice hoarse from disuse. She frantically cleared her throat as the guest entered.

Eve looked up at you and smiled politely, then down at her desk, then did a double take. Although she hadn't given enough thought to form any preconceived image of what you might look like, she certainly hadn't expected someone quite so attractive.

As soon as the label crossed her mind, she was already berating herself for it. You'd barely entered the room and were here for business, she couldn't let herself think of you in that way. It was wrong. Both professionally and morally.

"Evening." Your voice was deep, smooth and with an accent she couldn't distinguish.

Eve tried her best to smile amiably, though she was sure the emotion wasn't reflected in her eyes. Instead she scanned your body from top to bottom, lingering on your neck, and then your hands. The action was automatic. An unintentional response to her attraction- and there it was again. She'd allowed herself to get distracted barely ten seconds later.

"Hi." Eve was too quiet, her tone lacking the necessary command. She swallowed. "Please, take a seat." And smiled, this time more genuinely.

"Thank you."

She watched you stiffly slide into the seat, effortlessly demanding the attention of the entire room. Although Eve had known you for less than a minute, she'd already decided that there was something hypnotic about the way you moved. From the slight twitch in the corner of your lips, to the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Every movement, regardless of it being barely perceptible, had her mesmerized, however she was mostly fixated on your hands. How they couldn't quite settle in your lap, rather were wrung about anxiously until abruptly stilling.

Your hands falling limp dragged Eve back into reality as it dawned on her that she'd been staring for a little longer than appropriate. She literally had to shake herself out of the senseless state and clear her throat once more before she was ready to continue.

"It's nice to meet you." Jolted into reality, she outstretched her hand, which you eagerly met. Your grip was firm, matched with a confident yet humble smile that looked well practiced.

"And you."

Eve already understood how you'd succeeded at accumulating such an impressive employment history, as every second of the interview so far, you'd acted perfectly. Like you'd written the book on 'How to Handle Job Interviews.'

"Just call me Eve." Separating from the handshake, she dismissively waved her hand, unable to hold the eye contact for any longer. There was an inquisitive manner to the way you were watching her, as though you were trying to ascertain the most information possible from appearance alone. Being exposed to your scrutinising glare caused Eve to shift in her seat, though not from discomfort or uneasiness, rather from inadmissible lust.

As the interview progressed, her eyes continued to occasionally stray toward your hands. Despite how hard she was trying to stay focused, she kept catching herself unintentionally imagining how they'd look gripping her waist, pushing apart her thighs. And if she blocked out this particular fantasy, then her attention would shift to your neck, and how she'd love to bite down on the supple skin presented to her.

She'd hoped that her fling with Amanda and Julian would've suppressed her incorrigible longing for pleasure, yet still found her thighs pressing together as her imagination overpowered reason. All the scandalous scenarios flashing through her mind only grew more vivid, more frequent. An incessant stream of borderline pornographic images, which worsened her guilt as she struggled to focus on what you were saying.

The cool breeze from earlier seemed to have vanished, replaced by unbearable humidity. She could feel herself sweating bucket loads, and only flushed more upon realising that she must've looked a mess; with stray hairs framing her face, an inability to sit still and a layer of perspiration covering her entire body. You'd probably noticed by now.

"God it's been hot recently." You commented, playing with the neckline of your shirt.

Had Eve not been observing you so closely, she would've guessed this was general small-talk. But judging on how you'd acted so far, this was a strategically placed act of mercy, a way of excusing her, no doubt, dishevelled appearance.

"Yeah." Eve chuckled, twirling a strand of hair round her finger. "We could move outside." She suggested, then quickly added. "If you wanted to, that is." Her desperation to please you came as a surprise. The roles should've been reversed. You should've been trying to impress her.

Eve had undeniably lost all authority in the situation, which simply excited her further.

---

When Eve laughed, she scrunched up her face and closed her eyes, which was inconvenient even at the best of times. Right now, however, she'd never despised the quirk quite so much.

As inconsequential as the current circumstances would look to any passer-by, she wanted to commit every detail to memory. From the lingering pink hue of dusk, to the way you threw your head back as you laughed. In fact, she wanted to memorise everything about you. Since leaving behind her stuffy office, conversation had flown easily between the two of you, the matter of employment seemingly dropped in place of getting to know one another. You'd indisputably gotten the job. Eve knew it. You knew it. So both were happy to indulge in a lighter tone of conversation.

The topic had turned to worst first date experiences, so she had very few to share with you, though that didn't stop her from enjoying listening to your little anecdotes.

"What about you?" Taking a calming breath after an outburst of laughter, you paused to ask her the dreaded question.

In comparison to your story, her worst date was relatively tame. "Well." She scratched at the corner of her eye, considering whether she could exaggerate in some way. "I went on a date recently that I had to walk out of."

"Really?" You folded your arms, leaning back against the brick wall. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess it just didn't feel right." She shook her head, hoping to deter any more questioning.

"Fair enough. Sometimes you just know- right?"

Eve drew her eyes away from being locked on the ground, finally summoning the resolve to look directly back at you. She bit her lip, compelling herself to nod.

There was something about you that was pure ecstasy to her. While looking at you, she could feel herself falling deeper into the hypnotic state she'd been in earlier, unable to tear her eyes away and unwilling to try. In spite of the normality of the situation, it felt meaningful. Eve didn't feel so alone, so out of place. Which made no sense to her as she'd known you for barely over an hour.

"What did you do after?" Your voice was somehow deeper, eyes lidded and posture relaxed. "After the date." You clarified.

The inquiry was personal, even without context that could be inferred. Eve hummed, delaying her response long enough to consider how much she was willing to divulge. "I-" She laughed nervously, suddenly embarrassed to confess. "I went swimming."

"Swimming?" Your eyebrows shot up, amused by the many connotations of her vagueness. "Where?"

Eve scuffed the heel of her shoe against the concrete ground, shamefully incapable of returning the eye contact. "Here." She admitted quietly, grinning as if in disbelief that she'd actually done it.

"Wow. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting that." You took a deep breath, rendered speechless for a second. "So, you have access to the pool?"

Eve shifted restlessly, hesitant to pursue the topic any further. She knew where this was going, and that she shouldn't endorse this type of behaviour. But the heat wasn't helping, and neither was her overactive imagination. She was supposed to be responsible, but then again, so were you.

Inevitably the possibilities of what could be overpowered her better judgement. "Yes." She reached into her pocket, producing the coveted key ring and hanging it on her pointer finger.

Upon glancing up, she discovered you were watching her intently, indisputable lust reflected in your eyes. Eve found herself in one of those rare moments where she felt understood, on the same wavelength as someone else. The logical part of her brain argued that you were basically a stranger. That if she followed through on your shared idea, then your hiring and subsequent job experience would be forever tainted. But the possibilities were too tempting to ignore.

So when you asked. "Want to go swimming?"

She couldn't refuse.

---

You'd held her hand as she'd lead, the reasoning being that most the facility was shrouded in darkness. Though Eve liked the weight of your hand in hers, so she didn't bother to turn the lights on until reaching the pool. Only then did you separate, crouching down to check the temperature. You beamed with childlike joy as you waved your hand around in the water, skimming the surface then diving deeper down.

Eve grinned. Your pure happiness was infectious, the effect it had on her similar to being drunk. She was intoxicated from exhilaration. She would've been content watching you relish in the feeling of water running through your fingers for eternity, though to her dismay, you soon grew bored. And then to her surprise, you unabashedly began to strip. Her eyes were glued to the expanse of your back as you pulled your shirt over your head, and to the revealed skin as you tugged your trousers down.

She had to stop herself from stumbling back as the strange reality of the situation suddenly dawned on her. Instead, she reacted by comically clutching at her heart, clawing the fabric of her own shirt.

You turned to the side, looking at her out of the corner of your eye. "You coming?"

She chewed on her lip, pondering the two words in greater detail. This was you asking for consent, giving a final warning. You were both aware that this was an incredibly outlandish idea, an extremely irresponsible one that should've discouraged Eve. Yet it had the opposite effect.

Before she could overthink the consequences, her shaking hands were clumsily unbuttoning her blouse. At the unspoken confirmation, you smirked back at her, then without warning, threw yourself into the pool. The splash echoed round the room, proceeded by carefree laughter as you resurfaced and began leisurely swimming away from her. While you were busy, Eve took the chance to continue undressing without interference.

Her insecurities didn't emerge until it was too late, resolved moments later as she dove into the pool. The water was colder than she'd anticipated, but her burning desire dulled the intensity. Breaking through the water's surface, she inhaled deeply, grateful for the supply of oxygen. However, her breath was soon stolen from her as she noticed you were treading water directly in front.

Somehow, you looked even more beautiful now. With the wave's reflections dancing across your skin, your hair drenched and dripping. She wanted to chase after the droplets with her tongue, despite knowing she'd likely be met with the bitter taste of chlorine. But what really flustered Eve was the way you were staring at her; the hunger in your eyes that hinted at your intentions.

Your stillness was teasing her, the water practically stagnant around you both. Eve was becoming increasingly irritated, the heat between her legs only growing. So it didn't take long for her to snap. She lunged forward in an attempt to grab hold of you, though her hands couldn't quite clutch onto your slippery skin. She stumbled to the left, floundering around until you grabbed hold of her.

Upon securing her grip, she froze, due to both the sensation of your body pressed up against hers, and her embarrassment. She couldn't bare to look up, to face her awkward failure. After a beat of silence, she heard you laugh lightly. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant or mocking, but she insisted on keeping her eyes locked on the wall. That was, until your lips gently brushed against her ear.

"Were you trying to kiss me or drown me?"

She snorted, the tension leaving her body, then turned to rest her forehead on your shoulder. "The former. Definitely."

You laughed again. This time Eve joined in, happy to ignore what'd just occurred.

"Want to try that again, then?" You kissed just behind her ear, causing a shiver to suffuse across Eve's body. She waited a minute, expecting more before realising you intended for her to make the next move.

She glanced up at your face, fixating on your lips. You were so close. All she had to do was lean forward ever so slightly. One final glance to your lidded eyes confirmed you wanted the same- all she had to do was close the distance.

Taking a shaky breath, Eve shifted a hand up to cup your cheek, her thumb softly stroking your skin. There was no rush; you both wanted the same thing and were eager to revel in the experience. So, when her lips finally grazed against yours, there was no deep sigh or sudden change in pace, rather a blooming warmth in her chest. She was floating, both literally and metaphorically in a sea affection.

She kissed you again, this time with more conviction. Then fell backwards, her feet now comfortably resting on the bottom of the pool, her back hitting the wall as your grip on her waist tightened. You dragged a hand across her chest, causing her to gasp. Your touch was scolding compared to the cool water. A perfect balance between lustful heat and a mind-numbing, all-encompassing chill.

She raised her arms, flinging them around you and exhaling as her impatience reappeared. Though thankfully, you didn't make her wait long. Soon enough, your mouth had latched onto her neck, leaving messy kisses from behind her ear, to down by her shoulders. The feeling was pure bliss, encouraging her to lean into you and press your bodies closer together.

She didn't need to say anything. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Like you had her body memorised: every caress was perfectly placed, each touch just what she needed. It didn't take long for Eve to reach her pleasure, although she did spend a while in a dazed state of satisfaction, simply drifting in your arms. Eventually, she regained awareness to feel you tenderly nibbling on her lower lip, and eagerly reciprocated the kiss.

Motivated by the sudden fervour, she switched the positions, pushing you up to the wall.

"Get on the ledge." Eve murmured against your lips. She looped her arms under your thighs, ready to lift once you'd agreed.

Surprised by her abrupt confidence, you quirked an eyebrow, but obeyed nonetheless.

With you sat before her, she knew the evening was only just beginning, and judging by your breathless expression you felt exactly the same. This was one of those rare moments where Eve felt completely understood.

[fandomlovingfreak]

Healing His Heart (18/?)

Young Remus Lupin/Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit Content (18+)

Word Count: 2100

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Summary: (y/n) is two years younger than him, a popular Slytherin, and Regulus Black’s best friend. Yet he can’t help but be attracted to her bewitching personality and sweet smile. Unfortunately, his er–problem makes it harder to get close to others. Despite his attempts to push her away (for her own good) she seems determined to worm her way into his life.

Disclaimer: Remus Lupin (Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, and other Harry Potter Characters) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: So So So Sorry for the extremely long wait. I just could not get this chapter out of me for all that is good in this world. I hope some smut makes up for the wait.

Enjoy

Number Nine Glovergus Lane has an exceptionally large door; Remus observes as he looks up at the towering manor.

It's an especially sunny day, warm with a slight breeze. Perfect for taking his girlfriend somewhere for a stroll around a pond or... in a garden or something.

Instead of spending a romantic day with (y/n), he found himself being practically pushed out of the front door of her home. It hadn't been a malicious action on her part; she had ripped the letter from Mister Gedius out of his hands as they sat in her family's garden, eating breakfast. A brief glance over the letter had her dragging him out of his chair and up the staircase as she excitedly talked about the opportunity Mister Gedius had written about.

He allowed her to pick out the outfit she deemed "smart enough" for an interview and practically buzzed with energy as he changed, chattering away non-stop.

Of course, he had to agree with what she wanted. She was too excited for him to just ignore the reply. Besides, Mister Gedius was offering a particularly generous deal. It was good pay, flexible time (obviously a plus for someone who had a-- furry little problem), and he would be doing something he knew he would be good at. Maybe it wasn't a flashy Ministry position or the coveted Defense Against the Dark Arts post, but it was something. And he desperately needed something.

The last thing he needed was (y/n)'s parent's to believe he was dragging down their daughter in any way. He could be a provider.

Not that (y/n) expected him to take on such a traditional role, but something in him had to prove to others he was capable. No one had yet made him believe he wasn't, but society's view of his kind was far from accepting. It would always be a fear that lingered somewhere in his mind. 

"Yes?" Remus snaps back to attention, looking up at the greying man. 

"Hello, I am Remus Lupin. I sent you an inquiry about the Library assistant job last week."

"Ah yes," the man nods, "come in, come in." The man leads Remus into a large library, "sit, sit. Would you like anything? A cup of tea, perhaps?"

"Uh-- sure, thank you. That would be great." 

The man settles down in a chair across from Remus before speaking, "Did I introduce myself?" Remus sets his cup down before responding that he did not with a shake of his head.

"Ah-- I always seem to forget. Effie always reprimanded me for forgetting to introduce myself," he chuckles fondly, "I am Iwan Gedius. I'm sure you deduced that considering, I am seated across from you."

Remus smiles politely, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Gedius."

"Please, call me Iwan. If you're to take up this post, you must drop the formalities. They are quite unnecessary in my home."

"Of course s-- Iwan."

The older man smiles, looking amused, "So tell me, Remus Lupin, are you a recent graduate from Hogwarts?"

"I am, this past May."

"Congratulations. Do you have any experience with libraries?"

"Not any professional experience, but with my studies, I spent numerous hours locating books in the Hogwarts Library. And of course, multitudes of hours replacing said books."

Iwan nods, "And you're up for my library? I have to warn you, I am notorious for not reshelving my books. At least not very well."

Remus nods, "Whatever needs reshelving, I am more than willing to reshelve. And, I have plenty of patience to document or reorganize the whole library if needed. I am willing and happy to put the whole library back together, honestly."

Iwan chuckles, "You've more than convinced me, Remus. You can start next Monday, maybe around ten A.M.? I don't expect you to work more than five or six hours a day. Weekends off, of course, and personal time off is always available if you request a few days ahead of schedule. How does that sound?"

Remus grins, feeling elated, "That sounds great! I appreciate that you're taking a chance on me."

***

"So?" (y/n) is sitting at the dining room table when he gets back.

He shrugs off his blazer, setting it down on the back of a kitchen chair, "I got the job."

A smile rises on her lips, "Did you really?" Remus nods as she springs out of the chair she had been sitting on, launching herself into his arms.

"I knew you would get it! I just knew it!" Remus makes a noise of surprise as she presses her lips against his. His hands find (y/n)'s waist as he steadies them, their bodies molding together as the kiss quickly grows passionate.

"My parents-- they're gone for the next few hours," she whispers against his ear, her sinful hands untucking his dress shirt.

Remus doesn't think twice about what she said, pulling her immediately towards the staircase. Weeks had gone by between the time he was allowed to feel her underneath his body. The temptation to bury himself in her warmth, to hear her soft sounds as they move together towards mutual pleasure... It's too strong to resist.

(y/n) gets his shirt unbuttoned and thrown from his shoulders before he can get her bedroom door shut properly. He returns the favor with vigor, removing her clothing with unmatched speed. A bit embarrassing when he thinks back to it later that night, but at the moment, getting her naked and on the bed is all he could care about.

She looks fantastic, he thinks, once she's displayed in front of him. Despite actually only being a bit bigger than what they're used to at Hogwarts, the bed looks massive. The possibilities are endless, he thinks, trying to decide how he wants her situated. 

Tapping her hip softly, he mutters, "'wanna try something new." 

Sitting up on her forearms, (y/n) gives him a funny look, "like what?"

"You'll see," Remus kneels on the bed, moving her leg so he can lay next to her. "Lean against me. Just like that, good girl." He's moved her, so she's got her back pressed to his chest and her leg over his hip. Remus's left hand, which rests on her abdomen, moves up to massage her breast as his other hand begins to slip down her thigh towards her sex.

He swears she's holding her breath, her face turned towards him as he teases the skin of her inner thigh, not yet reaching where she wants him.

"What do you want?" he presses a kiss to her neck, his hands ceasing their teasing as he waits for an answer.

"You know what I want, Rem." Not the answer he wants, not what he wants at all.

He tries again with a light pinch against her breast for emphasis, "Tell me what you want."

The yelp is exactly the reaction he had wanted. Remus hides a satisfied grin upon her neck. 

"Please touch me." Her voice is quiet.

He caresses her thigh, "here?"

(y/n) shakes her head, "no, no, please, Remmy. Don't make me beg you."

"I thought you were a good girl. Good girls use their words." He can't help himself, biting lightly where he had previously kissed.

She makes a whimpering sound, her fingers intertwining with his brown hair, pulling lightly as he tongues at her neck.

"I am-- I want your fingers in me, please. Please, Remmy, I want you to fuck me with your fingers."

He grins, "there we go. That wasn't too hard, was it?" He moves his hand down to cup her sex, "got to make sure you're nice and wet for my cock. Isn't that right, darling?"

"Yes, yes, please--" She's cut short as he thrusts two fingers inside of her. The noise she makes is like poetry. 

"Is that too much?"

"More, I want more." She's already squirming against his hand, trying to fuck herself against it.

Any concern Remus may have had melts instantly, "as you wish." Pulling his fingers out, absolutely coated in her juices, he inserts a third before beginning a quick pace.

"My hands are a bit busy; how about you play with those pretty tits for me, darling." Remus's voice is low, barely over a whisper. Her hands are immediately at her chest.

"Like this?" Her voice holds a teasing edge as she watches his eyes follow the way she pinches her nipples.

"Exactly like that." With his free hand, Remus moves her beautiful face towards his, kissing her soundly. (y/n)'s hands are suddenly buried in his hair, forgetting her previous request as her hips maneuvering to press up against his lower abdomen. 

"Fuck me, please?"

And who is he to deny her when she's behaving so good, using her words like he asked? With a tilt of his hips, he's sheathed within her.

With each shallow thrust, (y/n) rocks against his hips, causing her clit to rub against his body, the leg thrown over his hip wrapping itself tighter around him. Remus lets his hand drift from her lower back towards her ass, grabbing a handful to increase the push and pull of their lovemaking.

The angle is new for them, on their sides gripping one another to stay exactly like that because he's hitting just the right spot, the spot that makes her involuntarily let out small gasps.

She's chanting quietly, breathlessly that she wants more. She wants everything he can give her and more. Whimpering about how big he feels and how much she loves his cock.

"Please, Remus--"

"What do you want?" He asks before kissing her again.

"I wanna cum, please, Remmy--" Remus grins, pulling out quickly. 

Before she can complain, he moves her to her hands and knees. Large hands massage her ass, feeling rather giddy as he runs his cock against her cunt.

(y/n)'s whole body seems to tremble, her face turning to look at him, "Oh, Gods-- hurry!" 

The night is full of new surprises, he thinks to himself before he goes right back to fucking her senseless. 

"Holy fuck," (y/n) gasps out. Remus can't help but grin, leaning over to press a kiss to the back of her neck. He feels huge draped over her body, caging her in against the bed as he relentlessly pounds into her.

This may be his new favorite position. He's got access to nearly all of her, and he can't say he doesn't enjoy having this more dominant power over her. 

His hand snakes down to her sex, fingers moving clumsily till they find her clit. At the contact, (y/n) pushes back hard against his hips, her head jerking up just a tiny bit.

"Yes, there." Remus obliges, fingers moving in practiced circles around her clit, his mouth attaching itself to the side of her neck, pushing her towards her release. Feeling he's only going to last another minute or two more, Remus's movements speed up, hoping to get her there before him.

It seems to do the trick, her pussy trembling around his cock in seconds and a low moan of his name coming from her lips. The top of (y/n)'s body seems to slump against the bed as he chases his own release.

He pulls out of her, releasing across the small of her back with a deep groan. He steadies himself by planting his hands on her hips.

He's about to make a comment about enjoying the view when he hears the (y/l/n)'s front door open and close and the sound of (y/n)'s mother calling for her.

"Shit!" Remus springs up from the bed, grabbing his wand to get rid of the mess on (y/n)'s back and to cast a precautionary contraception charm.

"C'mon now," Remus whispers, pulling his pants back on. (y/n) laughs, rolling over to look at him, but she doesn't seem to be in a rush to get her clothes back on.

"Relax, Remus." She's about to pull on one of his shirts, but he grabs it from her hand.

"Don't make it too obvious."

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "I hardly think wearing your t-shirt is going to tip my mother off to what we were doing."

"I dunno! Mothers are weirdly perceptive."

His girlfriend giggles but pulls on her own shirt for his sake. "Ya know, you're cute."

Remus frowns, "I just don't want your parents to think anything there's any... funny business going on."

"I'm sure they know there is funny business going on. All parents were teenagers once too, you know."

Remus frowns, "Still! They don't need to catch us in your bed."