#I think it's a huge lesson in why working conditions matter

[problemswithbooks]

BNHA 423

So, I can't say I feel much of anything reading this weeks leaks.

I'm not shocked that Shigaraki died, nor would I be surprised if his death is taken back next chapter and he gets brought back to life in some way.

The thing is despite people saying Shigaraki dying messes with the themes of the story the themes have always been more then a little shaky. IDK if it's just a difference in culture, but Hori has a way of setting something up as being a big deal/theme and then doing something that completely contradicts it.

It's really no surprise he might have killed off most of the villains including Shigaraki despite setting the story up in a way where saving villains seemed to be a theme. He did the same thing with self-sacrifice being portrayed as bad, but later showing it as good.

I will say I don't necessarily agree with how some people are framing Shigaraki's death as throwing abuse victims under the bus. I do get the frustration because Hori did focus a lot of how Shigaraki was used by AfO and in a lot of stories that would be used to absolve him of guilt for all the destruction he caused. But Hori never had Shigaraki change his mind. His last words are him continuing to wish he could have destroyed more and wanting Izuku to relay to Spinner he never stopped fighting for destruction.

I think if this had been a more thought out and focused story you really could make it a great tragedy. It feels unfair that he couldn't be saved, that despite Izuku's effort, at the end of the day Shigaraki wasn't able to break away from the destruction he was manipulated and groomed into believing.

In that way I can understand the anger of some fans, because the story is essentially a tragedy framed as a simply triumphant narrative. It always felt like it wanted to have some deep meaning, and always seemed on the verge of it, but never stuck the landing. The one thing I've always been left wondering is: what is Hori trying to say with this story?, and IDK if the ending, given what's on the page right now will really give me an answer.

If anything I think perhaps Hori was trying to say to much at once. I'm sure a lot of it gets lost in translation and cultural differences, still part of me thinks he bit off more then he could reasonably flesh out. Thinking back many writing choices feel like he had an idea or passing thought and added it because it was cool or thought he'd have time to do more with it latter but due to shitty writing conditions couldn't implement properly.

[destielhasmedead]

This is a post about Dean having undiagnosed ADHD by a person who has diagnosed ADHD. Therefore, I’m not a doctor and not an expert, but I know how I react and see many of those qualities in Dean.

Typical things that go along with ADHD are:

Hyperactivity

Hyperfocusing

Stimming

Hyperfixations

Impulsivity

Emotional dysregulation

Black or white thinking

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria

Trouble maintaining friendships/relationships

Substance abuse

Risky behaviors in general and sexual

*some of these also go along with other neurodivergencies- Ex. Stimming and Hyperfixations. This post is about his ADHD and not another disorder. And not all are needed to have ADHD Ex. I tend to not struggle with substance abuse.*

I’ll just go down the list:

So hyperactivity

This can be seen through fidgeting, restlessness, being talkative, and the inability to sit still.

In this example, it takes Dean quite literally 20 seconds before he gets bored and moves his attention, https://youtu.be/o1eL-3BJihg?t=20 (watch up to 40 seconds)

The clip below shows Sam typing and Dean having to sit in a chair and wait. Dean starts making noises and in less than a minute he is up and leaving to go somewhere else.

https://youtu.be/zvy_IKIHH5k

This might also be an example of stimming.

The definition off google is: “behavior consisting of repetitive actions or movements of a type that may be displayed by people with developmental disorders”

In the video, it is known as a vocal stim.

When Dean gets excited he is also known to stim - at the time I stamped in the link below, you can see his hands wave/tap at the railing. People with ADHD feel emotions more strongly than others do. This is why he may seem happier than usual when he gets pie (when it’s something he has regularly), or in this case, celebrate a holiday.

https://youtu.be/b82JDE0d6C0?t=29

Many of these can go together, such as you may stim when hyperactive, or stim because you feel strong emotions. So, with that in mind, I’m going to bring up emotional dysregulation.

Same as feeling extreme happiness, he also gets angrier over things that could be managed differently.

I hate to do it to you, but I have to bring up the prayer scene.

https://youtu.be/tcNVxm8HAXM?t=89

Specifically, the part where he talks about controlling it. Here is a part from the transcript if you don’t want to watch

“I – Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know – I know that it's – i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just – it comes out. And I can't -- I can't stop it. No matter how – [Sniffles] how bad I want to, I just can't stop it.”

He is struggling to manage it. It’s an impulse.

And that’s what I’ll talk about next.

Dean is known to get mad, but there are other forms of impulses. Such as his tendency to make rash decisions and just go out on hunts without backup, or make a deal for Sam without thinking through the consequences, or through any part of it really. Also, besides his life, his relationships are also put in jeopardy.

He unnecessarily risks his life when if he waited for Sam or Cas he would be okay.

Risk-taking occurs because of the dopamine deficiency in ADHD minds. For him, these risks often are seen through him making deals for others at the expense of himself.

Part of this risk-taking revolves around sex

He seeks the dopamine high that comes out (sorry no pun intended but) of these situations. Dean has only had a few more long-term sexual relationships, but even those ended fairly quickly. He is prone to one night stands.

Okay, I’m going to switch gears to hyperfocusing and hyperfixations

The difference is the state.

Hyperfocus: This is a highly focused attention that lasts a period of time, but then ultimately goes away. Dean is typically in this state when working on Baby or when they are going after something. Or, how he spent hours building the Malak box.

https://youtu.be/YAkIQb7Xtzo (peep the gay moment)

This is also a state in which someone with an ADHD mind is able to be less distracted and stay on that task.

Hyperfixation: Is being immersed or obsessed with one subject or activity.

So, I can hyperfocus on a hyperfixation.

Some of Dean’s fixations are cowboys and old westers, cars, cult horror movies, and cartoons.

This can be seen in Scoobynatural when Dean knew exactly what was supposed to happen in the episode and things about the characters Sam, who also watched the show hadn’t known.

https://youtu.be/yWRZsq8nQT8?t=221

As well as the numerous times Dean has information on cowboys- one example:

https://youtu.be/nIsxiYkoBKk

Substance Abuse: It’s no secret Dean struggles with alcoholism. ADHD is 5 to 10 times more common among adult alcoholics. I don’t have much to say on this subject, since it’s very obvious he has issues with it. And again, these issues are more relevant for people with ADHD because of the impulsivity, and behavior problems that may occur.

RSD or Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria: The definition is “a condition in which a person feels extreme emotional sensitivity and pain due to perceived or actual rejection, teasing or criticism”.

Say what you will, but Dean is a very emotional person. Typically, he shows his pain or sadness through anger or alcoholism. Any time Sam does something small, he takes it personally. He gets mad at Cas and feels betrayed for seemingly small mistakes, that for him feel huge.

RSD also contributes to his difficulty maintaining friendships and relationships: He pushes people away when things get hard and before they can get too close to him.

This is shown when he erases Lisa and Ben’s memories. https://youtu.be/rTBCWT9c9lo?t=159

As soon as things might get hard he leaves before they can get mad or reject him.

Black or white thinking: Or, also known as all or nothing thinking, means that an individual thinks in extremes. Your mind doesn’t recognize the shades of grey. It wasn’t really until season 6 or 7 when Dean started to sometimes accept the grey area. But, that was a hard lesson to try and learn.

He saw good and evil - monster and human. Meeting Benny, and later the good that came from Rowena and Crowley helped.

Even with Jack though, even though he hadn’t met the kid, he saw only one half of him. He deemed him to be bad, cause in his mind he can’t see the grey part, which in this case is “he’s half-angel, half-human. But, that doesn’t define his character”.

Overall, in my opinion, this is enough to convince me Dean has ADHD, but, now you can decide for yourself. :)

*these are only some examples - there are more I did not include because this has already taken me 2 weeks to finish*

[piccolina-mina]

Our girl is thriving this season, but what the fuck is this Wyatt plot? I need your thinks about this one. I just knew you'd be six posts in on this by now. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*sighs* For fk's sake, nonny. I don't even like talking about it because I get ranty.

What do you want me to say? Honestly, everything you can imagine I would feel about this, you're probably right. Because you know, I'm that b*tch always getting ranty about racism and stuff.

In short, I hate it. I think it's unnecessary, tone-deaf, random, pointless, lowkey offensive, and illogical. I legitimately find it triggering AF. And it doesn't make sense.

It's Unnecessary. There is a fraction of a chance that it will connect to something more significant, but even if that's the case, I'm confident that end result or connection could've taken place without this random reform racist Wyatt storyline. This series has struggled enough as it is properly utilizing all of its primary characters as well as providing them with decent screentime and arcs. It literally makes no sense to spend any of that time that could be used elsewhere on primary characters on a recurring guest star.

This isn't actually about Rosa, it's about Wyatt. Following up on the previous point, this specific arc caters to Wyatt. Revolves around Wyatt. Rosa is just a passive participant and vessel for this Wyatt storyline. So again, the arc itself is about a recurring character. At least when they did something similarly bringing back Cam to siphon time and arcs away from its main cast they found ways to implement it better and tied her to multiple main characters, so it wasn't a total waste.

The intended Wyatt/Rosa parallel is illogical. I know what they're intending to do with this storyline, drawing parallels between Rosa's experience coming back from the dead after ten years and trying to make sense of that and atone for things before and having this second chance to make things right and go down the right path and so forth and Wyatt losing his memory and his racist ways and having to reconcile with who he was to who he can be and all of that. I understand the concept they're trying to sell. It just doesn't work. Rosa's addiction is not equivalent to Wyatt's racism and violence. Her mental illness isn't either. It's dangerous to invite the comparasions with this storyline.

It's not successful redemption. True redemption is Wyatt knowing and remembering his actions and then trying to atone for them. It's not the convenience of amnesia wiping out his memory only giving him distance from his actions rather than really facing up to them. Because of the amnesia, to Wyatt, it's like he's hearing about another person. It's a cop out. He doesn't Actually have to do the work to redeem himself or atone or learn or grow. IF we're supposed to compare it to Rosa, she knew what she did and remembers and knows how she hurt her loved ones or whatever and she's actively trying to make amends for that as part of her program... a program that Wyatt isn't working or anything BTW.

They've contradicted themselves too much and are rewriting their own work and thus twisting everything up just to make this storyline work and it still doesn't. The timeline is all fkd up... what they established already all of it..The Longs were racist before Kate's death. Kate was racist. To suggest that a 10+ amnesiac blackout clean slates and erases all of Wyatt's racism is just wrong. As in it literally doesn't even make any sense. That is not how the amnesia works but they keep playing both sides of it trying to make it work. To sell us what they're claiming, he would have to have ALL of his memories wiped and have forgotten who he was completely.

Wyatt is behaving like he's shocked by racism in this town but they're also trying to argue that he was born into it. Wyatt was surrounded by racists and his friends come from racist families but he's acting like the very concept of him ever being ingratiated in it is some huge surprise. Wyatt looks affronted by things like Confederate flags. Wyatt being steeped in and surrounded by racism predates his amnesia period.

Kyle mentioned that line about Wyatt putting Whites Only on water fountains, and it sounded like a school prank. It also sounded like something Kyle was reminding Rosa of as if she was alive when that incident happened. Therefore, Wyatt was doing racist stuff before she died. Kyle would've been out of school by then so how else would he know that or why would he bother retaining it?

IF Wyatt and Rosa really were friends before (which holy retcon), then it makes no real sense that he would get psychopathically angry about his "friend" who does drugs getting into a car accident with his sister who does drugs. He would've mourned them both not jumped to severe racism and violence. But both he and Jasmine's family (who are MIA for all of this) did that... jumped to racism. So was Wyatt indoctrinated by his family or indoctrinated by message boards and shit? And if Wyatt and Rosa were friends than why was Kate such a racist bitch to Rosa?

They're backdrafting history JUST to make this storyline that we don't need with a character who isn't even a main one to work.

By not actually addressing that Wyatt has to unlearn racism and giving him an out through amnesia, there is the very realistic issue of that latent racism to come out at any given time. What happens when he's drunk? What happens when he's really angry at a POC?

Tying Wyatt's redemption with his clear affection for Rosa is again dangerous and irresponsible. I know we would all like to think that love is the way and through love it can heal racism, but that puts the responsibility on the disenfranchised person to be "lovable." Because if Wyatt WAS friends with Rosa once then that means the second Rosa did something unlovable she was just another *insert racist slur of choosing* right? It means that there's a possibility that if his feelings for Rosa dwindle or things go sideways in some way there's a chance that he could revert back to those racist ways. Loving Rosa(linda) and pinning all of his wanting to be better on her because of her makes his actively learning to be anti-racist conditional. Right now he's not doing this for him. He's doing it because of Rosa.

This entire storyline has placed the burden of forgiveness on Rosa, his victim. Without him ever having to actually make amends. It's this turn the other cheek BS that means there's nothing too big or harmful that can't result in forgiveness. It relies on Rosa and all that she represents to extend an inhumane level of mercy and grace to their tormentor and oppressor that was never once extended to them. It's such a consistent and problematic thing projected on disenfranchised parties that ONLY benefits the majority and makes them feel good. It's a narrative of meeting someone halfway when the playing field was uneven and the minorities are in actuality doing more work and making a longer trek. Halfway and meeting in the middle only works if both sides were even. They are not. It's the reaching across the aisle both sidesms when one side was clearly and actively more harmful than the other and than calling that peace and equity. It is not.

This storyline was meant to scintillate some viewers with this "what if" notion and teach others a meaningful lesson or be this poorly thought out gateway to exploring a complex storyline but it came at the expense of other demographics who actively have to deal with racist crap. And because of their problematic approach what is simply "just entertainment" to some who has the luxury of not having to think about it beyond that, is just gross and insanely triggering and uncomfortable to others. The others who deal with the reality of the subject at hand.

They wrote themselves into a corner with Wyatt so trying to dig him out of that no matter the cost or logic is absurd. This storyline could've worked better if Wyatt's racism didn't also include conscious, constant, extreme violence. But they spent all of this time making Wyatt the face of violent racism and now are trying to redeem him with no real effort. He wasn't just using slurs or making microaggressions. He wasn't some insensitive or aloof white person. He is a murderer. He has killed people. He technically murdered Liz in cold-blood. He knew she was in the crashdown when he shot up the place. The lights were still on. He beat up Arturo so badly he nearly killed him well after his friends even stopped. He attacked and intended to kill Rosa. And his handiwork was a constant thing, enough for Jenna to comment on it. And now we're supposed to ignore all of that because he has amnesia and has puppy dog eyes?

The fact that we can entertain (and for some succeed) Wyatt in all of his hot white dudeness' redemption after everything he has done slips into the inherent racism of society in the first place and is enraging. Because systemically and culturally and inherently society will bend over backwards to find a way to absolve a hot white guy no matter his actions. Flint and Noah couldn't get this type of redemption... So their intended storyline about evolving from racism STILL plays into the racist structures set up in society.

And because some people like it, there's this slippery territory of NO everyone who genuinely enjoys this aren't racist for enjoying it. But yes, this entire storyline and how it is playing out is at the very least racially insensitive.

In order for this storyline to work they would actually have to show Wyatt doing the work. They don't have enough time to dedicate to such a delicate storyline. It's been a C and D filler storyline with 45 second to a minute scenes. That's not enough time to explore this properly. We would've needed to see Wyatt returning home from the hospital. We would've needed to see Wyatt with his friends and it not feeling right and his discomfort. We would've needed to see Wyatt going through his yearbook and googling himself and the horror and disgust he felt. We would need to see this through his eyes. But we didn't have the time for that and we wouldn't have anyway because he's not a main character. We only get Wyatt through Rosa's eyes and they haven't even dedicated enough time to that for it to work. Rosa isn't conflicted at all. She didn't struggle to forgive him. She was reduced to a school girl with a crush and an insane level of grace and they just threw that at us with no buildup whatsoever. I don't know where Rosa's head is and how she got to this to place. Not really. And the only thing working about this is the chemistry between two actors who are allegedly dating so of course there's chemistry.

It literally feels like another instance of a favorite actor being shoehorned into a storyline just for the hell of it. Just because they didn't want to let Dylan go or something. Just to give him something else to do.

[axoxtxhxh]

Promise Me - Chapter 2 - The Fight

Summary: Armin convinced Reader to let him out for the day. On their way out, they get into some trouble and Reader gets hurt.

ArminxFem!Reader

Content: Blood, a little bullying, fighting, immigrant-hating (? I’m not really sure what to call it), me failing at using old-timey slang XD

Word Count: ~ 4,500

Armin’s eyes widened with excitement and he jumped up from where he was sitting. He was going to say something, but thought better of it. Standing quietly next to you with a huge grin on his face. He shook his hair out and smoothed it down and you felt a tiny twinge in your chest that forced you to smile. His innocence was always so endearing.

It was probably best that you didn’t both go out wearing scout regiment uniforms and you moved to the few extra articles of clothing you had next to the bed, digging around. The weather in this country was quite similar to Paradis and would have normally been warm at this time of year, but today was colder. The sun was hidden behind the clouds covering the sky and it looked as though there would be rain. If you didn’t actually need to go to the store, you probably would have skipped it on a day like this.

Unfortunately, all that was in the pile of extra clothing were short sleeves and thin shirts, the only clothing cheap enough for you to afford. They would have to work for now.

“What are you looking for?” Armin peeked over.

“We both can’t be out wearing our uniform,” you explained, “it’s bad enough that I wore it. Both of us wearing it together will look bad.”

You stood up holding a short-sleeved t-shirt, quickly removing your uniform shirt and handing it to Armin. He took it from you and folded it, replacing it in the bag while you put on the t-shirt.

“Ready?” You packed the small amount of change you had in your pants pocket.

“Won’t you be cold?” Armin worried. He didn’t mind wearing the t-shirt instead of you wearing it. He looked over your arms and really became aware just how much muscle you’d lost already.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

The walk to the store was only about ten minutes and not that scenic, but watching Armin look around in awe made the experience entirely different for you. He watched the people and cars moving around him quickly with a huge smile on your face and you smiled, feeling pretty happy that he convinced you to bring him along.

Armin couldn’t believe everything he was seeing. So many people, so many different people, all the cars, the food being sold on the street, everything was so new and amazing. He was breathing in the smells coming from the food vendors, barely wanting to blink in fear that he would miss something. He looked up to you and saw that you were smiling.

As you were walking, you thought about how strange it must be seeing the two of you together. You were definitely older than Armin, but not old enough for people to mistake you as his mother, maybe his young aunt. He was smaller than you as well, not just in height, but in build. Somehow, his black scouts uniform made him look bigger though.

The reactions of the people on the street were quite different today than they normally were. Maybe it was because it was a cloudy day and people knew rain would be coming in soon or maybe you did look different with Armin walking next to you, but everyone almost seemed friendlier.

There wasn’t a food stall that you passed that wasn’t saying ‘hello’ with a smile when you normally never even got a glance in your direction. A couple of them even gave Armin a free sample to taste which he accepted with an excited ‘thank you’ and shared with you while you walked. You kept looking over at him as he smiled at everyone with his big, blue eyes. It was definitely Armin that was making the difference. His less threatening face and cheerful look in his eyes was getting the attention of everyone you moved past.

You made it to the store and the lady behind the counter who usually paid no attention to you wasn’t any different from the rest of the town, happily greeting Armin with a welcoming smile on her face. You moved to the back of the store knowing what you needed and quickly grabbing it. There was no need to be out more than necessary. Armin took the supplies from you and you both went back to the counter.

“Looks like terrible weather today,” she said smiling at Armin.

“Rainy weather is nice with a cup of tea.” He smiled back.

“Such a positive way of thinking about it.” She rang up the items. “Are you guys from around here?”

“We’re just visiting,” he replied. You remembered another item you needed and quickly ran back to the aisle in the back, tucked all the way in the corner, ‘feminine products’. It was completely different here than back home. Each time you came back thinking they would restock what you were used to using, but it was only ever the same products. You grabbed a box at random and went back to the front.

“This one is my favorite,” the cashier was saying to Armin, “it’s perfect for days like today.”

“Thank you for the information!” His innocent smile was winning everyone over. She put it in the bag with your stuff and Armin spoke up to protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. We can’t pay for that.”

“No problem.” She winked. “It’s on the house.”

“Thank you!” Armin was beaming.

He looked back to you as you set your box of tampons on the counter, looking at the box, then back to you, concern hitting his eyes. You paid for the stuff and grabbed your bags, heading back out to the street.

“Wait… wait, Y/N.” Armin rushed next to you, taking the two small bags from you. “I can carry these for you. You should rest.”

“What for?” You kept walking.

“Your condition.” His eyes were wide, still full of worry.

“Trust me—” You tried not to laugh at his concern. “—I’m fine. Besides, the bags aren’t even heavy.”

“Even still, I will—”

“What do we have here?” A voice called from a group of older boys just outside the store. Both Armin and you turned to see who they were talking to. “It looks like a couple out-of-towners.”

The group of boys laughed and that’s when you knew they were talking about you and Armin. You turned Armin around to keep walking.

“Hey, blondie. Nice outfit.” Another voice called. You stopped where you were standing. Armin turned to grab your hand, but you stayed there.

“Looks like we got a bearcat on our hands, fellas.” The group laughed.

“Don’t listen to them.” Armin was pulling you, but you weren’t budging.

“Come on, you got something to say?” The boys kept jeering.

“Don’t tell us you’re going to listen to that little guy.” Another boy taunted, throwing an empty can at you, just missing your head.

You turned around quickly, walking over to them and narrowing your eyes.

“Is there a problem?” You asked, taking time to glare at each of them.

There were four boys. They each looked to be around eighteen, maybe nineteen. They were clearly bored and looking for someone to bother. If they wanted a fight, you would give them one. It had been a while since you sparred. Why not take out some aggression on some punk kids.

“As a matter of fact—” the boy sitting on the table stood up, “—there is. We don’t like your kind coming over to our country and stinking it up.” “Our kind?”

“Yeah, foreigners.” He spit whatever it was he was chewing right next to your foot on the ground. “You’re leaving a mess.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for your friend there.” You nodded at the one who threw the can.

“Whatchu mean?” He spit off to the side again and you clenched your jaw.

“The porky ashcan sitting behind you.”

All the boys stood up at that and the spitting one calmed them down, putting his hands up until they settled.

“I think you need to be more careful with who you’re calling a porky ashcan.” He narrowed his eyes and spit, this time right in front of you, the splotch landing directly on your shoe. You moved quickly forward, but Armin was faster, standing in between the two of you and holding you back with his hand.

“Wait! Wait! We will be more careful.” He was looking at you, then turned to look at the boys. “She’s just tired. It’s making her angry. We will be more careful.”

“Looks like the blondie can tame the bearcat.” The spitter smiled an ugly smile.

“We’re sorry to bother you.” Armin nodded and pulled you along. You glared at the spitter until Armin pulled you far enough away and you both continued along the sidewalk.

“Why did you do that?” You griped. “You realize I could take them. Easily.”

“We fight titans. I don’t doubt your abilities.” His voice was low. “But you can’t just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset.”

“A bit upset??” You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. “He threw garbage at us, called us names and spit on me. I am more than ‘a bit upset’.”

“Let’s just get back.” Armin’s walked quickly, the smile on his face from earlier was gone.

You sighed as you followed him. Were you getting irrationally angry? It seemed like an appropriate amount of anger to you. They were punk kids that probably needed a lesson anyway. You looked over your shoulder, seeing them following you both. They might actually get that lesson if they stick close.

Before you even had the chance to prepare a plan, one of them ran forward, pushing Armin and he tripped, falling forward into the sidewalk.

“Armin!” You ran down to help him sit up and checked his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” His cheek was bleeding, scratched on the rough surface of the sidewalk. You were seething, fists shaking, breathing heavily and unsuccessfully trying to control your anger. Armin could see how upset you were and held your hand. “Y/N, I’m okay. Don’t do anything.”

You stood up and turned around, shoving your fist in the face of the first boy you saw, the porky ashcan. His head flew back and he fell to the ground, knocked out. The other boys started getting loud, yelling threats and running at you. You moved away from Armin and drew their attention to the little junkyard area behind you.

The second boy made his way over, fists flying and you ducked and dodged until you got him in the stomach and a kick to the face where he doubled over, falling to the ground.

The next one was coming at you with a misplaced kick and you laughed at him, making him angrier until he was close enough for you to grab his collar and headbutt him, knocking him out cold.

The spitter was last, walking up to you with a confidence you could tell he didn’t earn. You hit him and he quickly shook it off. He must have been hit before, familiar with the feeling and not as shocked as the others were. He grabbed the collar of your shirt and lifted you up. You had to admit, you weren’t exactly a lightweight, the guy had some muscle.

Picking you up was a mistake though. You quickly threw your leg over his shoulder and shifted the weight, taking him down until you were straddling him, one more close hit and he was out too. You smiled, standing up and wiping your hands. You were about to turn around to head back to Armin when porky ashcan tackled you, knocking you down and into a metal shard sticking up from the ground.

“FUCK!” You screamed. You were panting when porky ashcan climbed off of you and the other boys woke up. Seeing what happened and watching the blood soak into your white shirt, they all fled, leaving you lying there.

“Y/N!” Armin ran over, helping you sit up.

“Shit.” Your breathing was shallow and quick, sharp pain stabbing your lungs as you shook, trying to grip the edge of the shard. It wasn’t thick, but it went clear through the side of your lower abdomen. “Is it all the way through?”

You lifted up the side of your shirt to take a look. Armin knelt down next to you, holding your hip and helping you lift your shirt.

“Yeah.” His eyes were wide. Armin didn’t even need to lift your shirt to know it was straight through, the back of your shirt stained with blood.

“Help me get it out.” You leaned forward, resting your head on his shoulder.

His hands were shaking as he reached forward, gripping the edge sticking out of your stomach. He wiped the beads of sweat that formed on his upper lip with the back of his hand and shifted his legs a bit. He didn’t want to do this. He reallydidn’t want to do this, but he couldn’t ask you to do it.

He gritted his teeth, forcing the water sitting in the corners of his eyes to roll down his cheeks and he blinked to clear his vision then pulled. Quickly, and yet somehow so slowly, and with a dragged-out groan from you, the shard was out of your stomach and Armin set it to the side, resting both of his hands on your shoulder to help steady you.

“Fucking shit,” you breathed. “Damn it.”

The cut wasn’t that big, mainly hitting the bulk of muscles you had at your side, but it was bleeding quite a bit. This is exactly what you didn’t need right now. You didn’t need something slowing you down, something stopping you from being at your best. You took a deep breath, Armin still examining how bad the cut was.

“I think you need stitches.” He wiped his eyes harshly on the back of his sleeve.

“I’ll be fine.” You winced as you dropped the shirt back down, lightly pressing on the cut.

“You can’t beat an injury just by being strong, Y/N. You need stitches.” Armin stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Armin, where are you going? Armin!” You called after him, but he was already out of view and most likely nearing out of earshot. You had no idea how he had that much energy, but you didn’t have time to think about it. You couldn’t decide if it was better to stay sitting how you were or to get moving. There was no way you would be able to help Armin if he did get in trouble. The best way to help was not sit around and take your time.

You slowly stood yourself up, the twisting and stretching starting to pull at the cut causing your vision to go white. You stopped midway, wincing and taking a deep breath, then getting yourself to fully stand up. You kept pressure on the wound and walked back to pick up the bags and slowly made your way back to your abandoned building.

You were definitely losing blood. You could feel it pooling in your hand as you held your stomach, but it wasn’t enough to prevent you from moving, though moving was only contributing to the continuous flow of blood to the cut.

It was only a couple more minutes until you would reach the building and you could rest. You took a deep breath, your feet starting to drag slightly as you fought your mind wanting your body to sleep.

You could barely hear Armin’s voice yelling for you behind you. In your attempt to slow down and turn, you lost your balance and started falling. Armin quickly ran forward and caught you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” His face was right in front of yours, eyes bright blue and glassy. His jaw was clenched in anger. “Why are you trying to carry all this and walk when you’re injured? Are you crazy?”

Seeing him yelling at you only made you smile, your vision going black shortly, body limp, before returning and you blinked yourself back.

“We need to get back,” you mumbled. Armin put you on his back and grabbed the bags, moving as fast as he could back to the building. Thankfully, the cloudy weather sent most people inside and walking through the final small streets weren’t as difficult.

Armin managed to get everything, including you, back up the stairs and moved you to the bathroom, setting you against the sink.

“I think this might hurt.” He worried.

“I promise you, I’m already in pain.” You pulled off your shirt. “Just get it over with so I can lay down.”

Armin washed his hands and wet the small rag he had with him, bringing it to the wound and wiping gently, trying to watch your reactions.

“Fuck,” you grunted through gritted teeth. He lightened the pressure of the towel and ran the water through it, squeezing it out and wiping again. You watched as he quickly wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “You don’t have to cry, I’m fine.”

“I’m not…” He looked up and met your eyes, sniffling. “I’m just worried.”

“It’s okay, Armin.” He looked back down and continued cleaning the wound with the wet towel before moving to the smaller cut in the back.

He knelt down in front of you, doing his best to stitch the gash closed, thankful it was a clean cut. He continued looking up as he worked, watching as you closed your eyes and your body swayed woozily. He wasn’t the best at medical aid, but you had both certainly stitched a cut or two while out on a mission. As he finished up the stitch, the bleeding slowed and he let out a small sigh.

He had managed to find some stitching supplies at the store and the lady working there was nice enough to give them to him for free. He knew you would most likely need some sort of antibiotic, but hoped the cleaning he did would be enough for now.

He finished up the stitches in the back and helped you to the bed. The second your body hit the blankets, you passed out.

You began to lose track of time as you came in and out of consciousness, each time asking Armin how much time had passed. By the end of the second day, you were more aware and able to stay awake.

“You need to try and eat something,” he suggested, handing you a piece of stale bread.

You refused the food and he leaned over you to check on the progress of healing.

“Please at least drink some water.” He handed you a cup and you went to grab it as he laid your shirt back down.

“G—damn it!” You grimaced. “Don’t push so hard.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, worrying about how much worse the pain is getting instead of better. He put his hand on your shoulder and you fell back asleep.

You woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and in extreme pain. There was a pulsing heat coming from your side and you were shaking as you moved to sit up, a wave of nausea passing over you as you leaned your back against the wall. It was cold and actually helped the heat you felt pouring over you.

You forced yourself to take quiet, deep breaths in order to not wake up Armin. You could easily fall back asleep. So easily you were fairly certain you hadn’t been sleeping at all, but passing out from the pain. Up until now you had been able to get up and use the bathroom yourself, but right now you weren’t even sure you could stand up by yourself.

You took another deep breath, bending your legs in front of you and leaning against the wall behind you to get yourself to slide up the wall, but it was no use. There was no way you were going to stand on your own. You moved your hand to Armin, trying to call his name through labored breaths. He opened his eyes and quickly sat up, seeing you sitting.

“I need to pee.” You tapped his hand lightly with your own.

“Do you want me to bring a bag or something?”

“I don’t think we’re there yet.” You tried to laugh, but only a puff of air came out. “I just need help to the bathroom.”

Armin nodded and moved closer to you. He hooked his hands under your armpits and lifted as you used your legs to help, whimpering at the pull against the laceration. As soon as you were upright, he wrapped your arm over his shoulder and helped move you to the bathroom.

The building didn’t have the greatest bathroom, but it did have separate stalls which was helpful if you and Armin needed to use the bathroom at the same time. That had yet to happen, but it was still nice. It was also helpful having indoor plumbing, something you both weren’t familiar with.

Armin sat you down and closed the door, waiting sleepily on the other side.

“How long were you awake?” He asked, yawning through his question.

“Not long.”

“Maybe we should clean the wound a little while you’re up.” You opened the door and he turned around to help you to the sink. Armin had been suspecting that it wasn’t healing properly. Pain would have been normal, but not the amount you had been in.

He leaned you up against the cold wall in between the two sinks and lifted your shirt. You could hear his quiet gasp as he looked at wound. Perfect.

“Tell me if it hurts when I touch it.” He leaned over and started just resting his hand on the front of your stomach, far from the actual cut which was closer to your side. He continued moving it, pressing lightly as he slid it more towards your side, but higher up, just under the band of your bra. At this point, it just felt like his hand on your skin.

Armin was doing his best to slowly approach the red streaks that were creeping out from the wound. It definitely looked bad. The scab was big, wider than it was the day before, pus leaking through the cracks in it. Thin red streaks were appearing on the edges. He lowered his hand to your waist, sliding back towards the wound and you winced, your body flinching away from his hand.

“Maybe it’s better if you clean it?” He stood up straight. “I’m worried it will hurt if I do it.”

“It’s okay.” You nodded. “I can handle it.”

Armin quickly washed his hands and you braced yourself over the sink. The moment he brought his hands to your waist, the stinging pain of the water and the weight of the pressure had you gripping the sink so tightly your knuckles were white.

Armin lightened his touch, watching your ab muscles flex as your breathing picked up.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled his hand away to get more water.

“Just… do it… quickly.” You could barely separate your teeth to talk. Armin finished up and patted you dry and you both moved back to the bed.

A couple hours later, the sun had barely risen, small slivers of light shining through the window above you. You were sitting against the wall, having trouble breathing. Armin sat in front of you, his eyes watering and trying to think of anything he could do for you.

Your skin had paled significantly, lips white and chapped. You were constantly sweating at this point and somehow still managed to feel cold and hot. The pain was nearly unbearable.

“I don’t know what to do.” He held your hand, his own hand shaking as he tried to calm you.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, “we need to… if I pass out again… you have to find a way…”

You had no idea how to explain to him that he had to keep going, even if you wouldn’t be able to help him.

“Y/N, no! You have to get better.” He begged.

“Armin, I—"

“Armin?” Both of your heads shot up at the unfamiliar voice ringing quietly through the room. Armin quickly turned around. It was still too dark to see anything farther in front of them.

Armin grabbed a stick from next to the bed and held it in his unsteady hands, aiming at the direction of the voice.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” The voice called.

You still couldn’t see the owner of the voice, but you could tell it was a man, his accent different from the other people in the country.

“Who—who are you?” Armin stepped forward.

“I can come closer so you can see me.” The man took slow steps closer to them, stepping into the bit of light they had. He was maybe in his mid-to-late forties with dark features and tanned skin. Armin squinted a bit, trying to get his eyes to focus on the man’s face.

“Fran—Francisco?” His voice shook and the man smiled.

“Yes, you remember me.” The man stepped forward a bit more and Armin stiffened, stepping back, closer to you. As if right on cue, you coughed. “I can see your friend is sick. I only want to help.”

“How did you know we were here?” Armin asked, his voice firmer than it was before.

“After I gave you those shoes, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The man stepped forward again and Armin stepped closer, lifting the stick to threaten him. The man lifted his hands in reassurance that he wasn’t there to threaten you both. “I was watching you for the last couple days. I only want to help.”

The man took another step forward, only a couple feet from them now and Armin was starting to worry. He knew this man, but only as much as the five-minute conversation they had to learn each other’s names. He had no idea what he wanted from you both.

“Stay back!” He shook the stick.

“Okay, okay.” The man stepped back and lowered himself to the ground, sitting. “I just want to talk. I can see your friend is hurt. I can help her. I have a friend who’s a doctor.”

Armin’s eyes had been watering and he wiped them on the back of his hand, looking back to you, barely conscious, and turning back to Francisco.

“She needs a hospital, Armin.” His voice was calm. “I can help her.”

Armin couldn’t think. He needed time to think things through. He looked back to you, you were dying. You were definitely going to die if you didn’t get help, but he didn’t know that this man was actually going to be the help you needed. He brought his hands to his head, groaning through his clenched jaw. His mind was running wild. He just needed time to think.

“Armin…” your voice was weak, raspy and tired, barely audible, but the moment you spoke, he turned around, kneeling down to you.

“What do I do, Y/N?” He wiped the hair out of your face.

“We don’t have a choice. Let’s go with him.”

Francisco started standing up at your words, staying back until Armin told him it was okay to come closer. Your eyes closed as you slowly lost consciousness again, but not before hearing Armin’s voice in your ear.

“I won’t leave your side, Y/N. I promise.”

[rosietaeyongswife]

black orphan |l.ty

genre: angst, smut mafia!taeyong, taeyonxreader, mafia au

tw: mentions of dead, murders, bad language, sex, mafia, mafia stuff

summary: being daugther of people who are hierarchy..well known around south korea isn’t very nice especially when they’re mafia and you killed them. u know what also isn’t easy? taking care of your younger sister.

authors note: pls if you have time it would be nice if you could read this it’s about lately thing with chinese idols. i explain there why some people should stop spreading hate on them and that it’s not really their fault.

when you were child you didn’t understand what were your parents doing. you only knew you were rich. private schools. everything you want. most expensive clothes. everything. trip to hot country in middle of the winter? no problem. you and your sister minhee had everything. but your father and mother didn’t forget to teach you that you need to work for what you have.

  you were always amazed by your parents untill you were 16 years old and started to understand what they are doing for living. your parents were killers and drug sellers. you couldn’t belive it at first but with time you understood. that’s how your family is living. that’s how kim’s family is living. with time you learned about mafia life and your parents business. your father made sure that his daughter is going to take care of their business one day.. exactly - one day. one night your mother was standing in front of you with smile.

“y/n you are getting married.” she smiled wider. “he is son of rich man who can be needed.”

“what?”

 they wanted you to marry some 40 years old man and sell your younger sister because they would had only benefits. it was this time when it hits you.

 you are just 24 years old, are you really going to kill your parents? answer is yes. few weeks ago you poisoned your parents and made sure that everyone would think that their heart stopped. because of this you were now the owner of kim hierarchy. now you are boss. 

  you were sitting at conference room with jackson when someone called you.

“yes honey?” you smiled. “how much do you need? okay. take my credit card. yes it’s fine.”

 you hung up. it was minhee. she needed some money so you gave it to her.

“it was minhee right?”

“how do you know?”

“you always smile this way when you are talking with minhee.”

“damn jackson. you know me too well.” jackson chuckled. “so now. how is the deal with sagurako family?”

“i think they don’t want to pay us.”

 you could only smile.

“they really don’t take me seriously.” you sighed. “kill his son.”

“ok, how and when?”

“whatever. tell jaebum that it’s job for him.”

“yes sir.”

 you really weren’t in mood to games. you just want money and nothing else. is this that hard? pay what they own you? your parets exactly but they are dead so you should take money, right? they don’t matter same as their children. they have five kids so one less isn’t big deal. 

 when you were sitting by your desk you heard someone. it was yugyeom. you sighed and walked to the coridor.

“why the fuck are you so loud?”

“because bambam is stupid idiot.”

“what? no!” he shout. “he almost kill me.”

“whatever. be quiter.”

“y/n wait!” yugyeom looked in to your eyes. “someoe was following minhee when she was at school and then with her friends.”

 hearing this made you upset. you know that you have much more enemies than friends but you had hope that minhee isn’t going to be part of their hit list. 

“bambam take me home i need to talk with her.”

“what are you going to do?” yugyeom was looking at you confused. he knows very well that you don’t play games. “are you going to kill somebody again?”

“ew no. she is going to have home school. ask youngjae or mark to hire someone ok?”

“yes.”

 your sister safety is your priority. she didn’t do anything wrong and she is innocnt teen. you couldn’t let someone to hurt her or even worse. of course minhee knew that yours family works in dirty business but she doesn’t know much. and it should stay like this. minhee isn’t going to take your company one day. you can’t do it. if you won’t be dead to your 60s you would give company to your child or something but at this moment it isn’t time to think about this.

 the whole house was clean. junmyeon was here for sure. you smiled softly. take off your coat and boots. first thing you did was to drink some watter. drinking watter is important especially for your brain’s work. when you were done you went to find your sister.

“minhee!” you looked around your house but you didn’t hear her back. sighing you went to check her and you could hear she was talking with someone. “minhee!”

 you walked in and first thing you saw was her with phone.

“i’m sorry. didn’t hear you.”

“yeah, it’s okay. are you fine?”

“yes. everything is fine. something happend?”

“you not gonna attend school anymore. you will have home lessons. you know teacher will be here with you.” you shrugged.

“what? no way!”

“you can’t do anything about this.”

“you can’t lock me there! the fuck y/n! i have friends there.”

“they can come to house.”

“but no..wtf. i don’t want to.”

“it’s for your safety.” you tried to hug her. “i know it’s not cool and all but i don’t have any other choice.”

 minhee was looking at you with only hate in her eyes.

“are you trying to lock me down? just like parents did to you?”

“no, of course no! it’s not it.” you took package of ciggs. “i don’t want to see that you are dead. someone is following you. if you still be arguing you’ll be dead soon.”

“w-who is following me?”

“i don’t know. jackson hire some teacher and some bodyguards so i hope you’ll be safe here if no then i have to send you to china.”

“china?”

“yes to our uncle.”

“why the fuck i can’t live normal live.”

“listen. you can’t choose family but you should be grateful for us. for what you have. i work hard for everyting we achhived.”

“how? by killing people? it’s a job for you?” she smirked. “you are exactly like parents. what else do you do? drugs? murders? are you selling people?”

“done! i’m fuckin done. you can’t leave the house for next week. better accept how things are going because i’m not gonna let you talk to me like that.” you were pissed of. “you didn’t even know them well, what can you know? you acting like i don’t care about you even tho it’s not true.” 

 minhee didn’t feel bad about what she said. she was mad at you because she didn’t want to be in home. she wants to explore. you exactly know that she doesn’t want to live the way the whole your family is living. and you also don’t want her to live the same just like you. so sending her to china is the best option. uncle isn’t in mafia and all dirty stuff the rest of the family members do so minhee can be safe there.

  your sister didn’t talk with you by the whole week. you didn’t really care because you have so much work to do. kinda proud because you made japanese family to pay you the money they owned to your parents so you were satisfied. everything went fine. things are nice so are you. no worries by the whole time. only thing you are upset about is that your family want to meet. family meeting sounds nice? no. there is going to be other mafia because remember guys - if there is family meeting that means there is going to be make big deals.

 jackson with the rest of the boys were standing next to you. 

“you look pretty.” mark said looking at you with a smile. “but where is minhee?”

“told her that she has 5 minutes untill i go there.”

“yes sir.”

 you smiled. nothing can make your day worse. you are clever person so it turns out that you made a lot of big deals so now you are just swimming in the money to be honest. everything is so fine like never and nothing can upset you. not even this damn dinner with your family and others because you’ll be there with your people.

“minhee please we don’t have time. grandma will be mad.”

“i don’t care. i don’t want to.”

 you could only sighed. walking in her bedroom made you feel like teenager again. she was kind of similiar to you but at the same time she was so different. you took her hairbrush and started brushing her hair while looking in to her eyes in the mirror.

“you are so beautiful minhee. can you see it?” she nod. “everyones eyes are going to be on us. especially you because you are younger. behave there honey ok? they won’t like acting up or something. also be ready for all the compliments.” you smiled softly. “plus.. i can’t have eyes on you whole night so be careful. if someone is bothering you..” you lean to her ear “you know what to do.”

 she nodded and stand up. ready to go and show off. you are y/n and minhee kim. you are prestige family and nobody can tell otherwise. 

 the place was huge and expensive. you knew your family like things like that but not that much. without thinking your people with you at the front walked in welcomed by some people who were smilling at you.

“mrs.kim?”

“it’s me.”

“welcome madam. have fun.”

 slight smile goes on your lips and disaper quickly. and here you are. all eyes on you and your crew. smile and confident walk by you was really indimidiating. you knew your presence here was cherry on top. your parents died in mysterious conditions and here you are leading kim’s company. isn’t it suss? it is and you know it well but it’s only made you proud. your parents were problematic and were problem not only for you but for the family and co-workers. jelous eyes of wifes and girls were on you. to be honest, you are one of the prettiest and hottest woman there and that’s why you are just eye-catching. 

 the long table was place where you and minhee should stay. your people found place to themselfs, and when they were gone you noticed that by the table was sitting bosses of others organizations.

“good evening grandma.” you goes to hug her and asked minhee to do so. “i missed you so much.”

“is this my little y/n? sunshine i missed you. how are you?” she was worried. this woman was someone who you wish were your mother. she was the only one who cares about you. your mother or father never told you “i love you” it was your precious grandma who always was making sure to say “i love you” no matter what. “is everything fine?”

“i’m fine. everything is the best. business is going really well. you know.. zeros on bank account are only growing.” you smiled. “what about you? health?”

“i feel like i’m in my 30s.” she was only 70 years old but she felt way younger. “you know even tho your grandpa is pain in ass i’m fine. i’m so happy that now you are leading business.” she smirked. “my son and his -be sorry god- wife were failure. they have never made this much money like you do.”

“grandma thank you. it’s not such a big deal.”

“it is. i’m proud of you. i’m proud that you are leading something to be even bigger.” tear came down my cheek. “and you minhee. what about you?”

“everything is okay i guess.”

“is something bothering you?” everyone were looking at your sister and you knew what she is going to say.

“i feel kinda grounded but it’s okay.”

“what?”

“y/n made me stop attend private school and have home schooling.”

“it’s against your wish?”

“yes.”

 you were now kinda mad at your sister. you know well that she said that because she still doesn’t agree with idea of home schooling and china.

“let me make things clear grandma. someone was following her and i love her too much to let someone hurt her. it’s the safest in our home.”

 your grandma sighed like everyone else in family.

“minhee you are still too immature and too young to understand things. let your sister work and decide. she is doing everything for your best.” your grandpa said while he was drinking his wine.

“but i have friends there. i have thing i’m interested in school and now i’m going to be grounded.”

 you couldn’t listen her anymore what notice your another uncle.

“minhee just let things happen. can we talk about something else? as you can see we have guests by these table.” he looked around.

 and that was the time when minhee must leave. you looked at her and she disaper. anothers girls and boys who were teens also disaper leaving the elders and bosses.

“okay so let’s talk.” your grandpa said. “my son is such a dumbass and made debts. also. police was suspecting you to be the one who killed your parents my dear y/n.”

 boss of nct, bts and monstax looked at you. you just smiled at them.

“there is no proof. i made sure to done work.” you took your glass of wine. “i’m more pro than my parents was, right? i don’t think someone is crying because of their loss.”

 you interested taeyong. he has never seen a person who openly talk about murder. about parents murder. you were that cofident that it makes him like you. he could see clearly that you don’t fuck with others. 

“mother will you let her get away with this? he still was your son.”

“will you talk like that if you knew that he signed documents about taking over your wealth? and everyone else?” you took a sip.”seokhyun you are so fuckin dumb. i hope you know why i don’t have respect for you right?” you smirked “you are pain in as..you remind me of some boy who was bothering minhee. you know what did i do with him?” he shook his head no “i shot him in front of his parents eyes. be careful.”

“what else you know?” grandpa took another bottle of wine.

“i know so much that i could easily take over business of everyone here.” you smiled. “father hide money in japan. i guess no one knows why there but it doesn’t matter. i have deal for mr. lee taeyong.”

 taeyong smiled over you. he was glad that he is going to make deal with big mrs. kim y/n. 

“i listen to you lady.”

“i know your handsome and eye-catching member named yuta nakamoto is japanese and he runs your business there. let’s say i need him. i want your help with finding money in japan.”

“i want 40% from this.”

“you want too much. it’s almost half of the money i would get. it’s not worth it. you are only finding money that are basically belonging to me.”

 you weren’t dumb. you knew that it’s way too much.

“what is your proposition?”

“i can give you 20%.”

“deal. i’m glad i’m going to work with you mr. kim.”

“same here mrs.lee i hope you not gonna fail.” he smiled. “i want to also say something. time is ticking mr. seo. and you know what happend.”

 lee taeyong stod up and leave to his members table. you looked confused at wife of your cousin jongdae.

“what happend?”

“it’s matter between me and him. please don’t ask questions.”

“okay so i can begin now.” namjoon said slightly annoyed. “what with our collaboration mrs.kim.” he was looking annoyed at your grandma

“i said i don’t know.”

“please.. my boys were working for you. i think we would be giant.”

 you were looking at them and thinking. what the fuck. you knew that bts are doing good but you also heard about their debts.

“no. if my lovely grandma said no then it’s no.” you didn’t look at him but at your glass full of wine.”don’t you want collaboration with my grandma and granpa just to pay off your debts and bills?”

 everyone was looking at your table because everyone heard it. whole nct were looking at you with shock same with bts and bosses of other mafies were spechless same with shownu.

“aren’t you too mean? it’s none of your business y/n. it’s thing between me and your grandparents.”

“exactly. and i’m not going to look how you want to take their whole wealth. how much money do you need? we can borrow you but you know.” you stand up like namjoon did few seconds ago just to come closer. “deadline is short period of time. and consequences are really big.” you smiled. “ask chan what happend when he was late with money.”

 namjoon was standing there embarrased and paralaized. you come at him and he didn’t like it. but you weren’t afraid. you are at too strong position to be moved by little kim namjoon.

“okay. borrow me a three milion dollars and i’m going to return them back.”

“sure. jackson!” you said. “make collab with my grandma but remember that i have eyes all around and i will notice if there is less money than it should be. you have month to pay me back.” jackson give you both piece of paper when you signed it. “sign it.”

“thank you and yes. month and you will have your money back.”

 after this everything went smooth. no fights. just paceful event. by the time it was time to dance and you were asked by your cousin jongdae to dance but soon enough you were dancing with lee taeyong.

“i didn’t know you were that mean and that strong.” he said while his hands were on your waist and yours around his neck.

“i don’t like playing games with someone who isn’t worht it.”

“and i like it.” he smirked. “you seem to be good player aren’t you?”

“maybe i am. mr.taeyong why are you even here?” he was confused. “i clearly see that you and your men don’t want to be there.”

“are you watching us?”

“shouldn’t i?”

“i guess you should. it scary talking with girl who killed own parents.”

 you could only smile. you aren’t afraid of anything and no one will make you feel regret. your parents deserved this and if you wouldn’t kill them they would ruin your life and your family lifes. and y’all don’t deserve this at all. your parents were selfish since you’ve been child. when there was no minhee your only friend was maid and chef. they were talking with you and play with you and your toys just to not feel alone. beside of them you had your grandparents. your grandma loved you like you were her daughter. she always made sure to say “i love you” and to check on you. and your grandpa? he would be proud and happy to walk you to your kindergarten and take care of you along with your grandma. and your parents? they didn’t care. they just thougth about money. more money and even more money. your mother was mean if she had to stay with you. she would just left you in your bedroom with toys and goes to her friend or to watch tv. and father? he didn’t even talk with you. he started to talk when he wanted you to be part of mafia. 

he taught you everything you need to know. and because of their lack of love and your knowledge of things you shouldn’t know about you are like this today. cold and emotionless. no one really show your love (not including your grandparents). kids at shool were afraid of you becasue they knew who you were and their parents didn’t allow them to play with you. in high school they didn’t want to be in touch with girl whose family is gangsters and who could kill anyone they want. you even hadn’t any best friend. no one. 

“it’s not scary. they deserved this.” you were closer. “sometimes you need to get rid of your enemies and i’m sure they were one.”

“am i your enemy?”

“if you will help me you’ll be my friend.”

since then you haven’t talked with family members. you didn’t need to. also minhee was more distant than usually. you even noticed that she is leaving and coming back late at night. you just had hope that she isn’t causing any problems. but when she was gone for two days and came back like nothing happend it makes you feel mad. mark and youngjae were nice enough to follow her around and found out that she is dating someone. minhee was dating and you didn’t even know. also, it seems like they know each other really well and are together since the very long time. 

 you were fine with it. she is 18. she can date anyone. you didn’t even care about this that she doesn’t tell you but it’s okay. it’s hers life after all. but when she were gone for a week and she doesn’t contact with you.. boy, you were really mad. minhee just disapear and have no signs of live. 

“y/n you need to calm down. she for sure is fine.” mark said “she is teenager, something like this happens.”

“but i do so much for her, why she is like this?” bambam was looking at you with sad eyes. he knew he shouldn’t feel this way but he hates your sister and seeing you hurt was really.. bad feeling. he knew how much effort you put to raise her well and take good care of. “i don’t understand. she just could told me that she want to go somewhere or something. i’m sick of it.”

“y/n.. we got it. i think she could leave with her boyfriend. yugyeom is checking him.” jackson hugged you tightly. “she is fine. minhee is strong.”

“and naive. she doesn’t even know how to defend herself what if he is going to hurt her?”

“maybe no? we don’t know.”

 when you were sitting in your office you didn’t know back then that person who is lover of your sister is who he is. reading his info was really surprising to you. it was unbeliveble. member of nct. 

 sound of your heels could be hear in headquarter of nct. your usually outfit on you - dark coat and black boots above your knees. people called you black orphan because of the fact that you are orphan basically and because you only dressed in black.

 members of nct who noticced you were whispering something about black orphan being here. you were walking slowly don’t even bother to look at them. you had goal - find minhee. jackson and rest of the boys were behind you and were in the line. like always.

“excuse me, what are you doing here?” man named mark was in front of you. “i don’t remember that you were invited.”

“i don’t need invitation.” you growled. “better find kim minhee and park jisung.”

 face of mark knew that is going to happen and why are you here. taeyong and rest of the members of nct couldn’t belive that jisung is letting his girlfriend stay in their place. taeyong was against and mad because he found out by accident when he was checking bathroom and minhee was going to bathroom. he almost killed her.

 when mark was about to go your sister and her s/o were near. minhee was looking at you surprised. she knew you could find her but didn’t think that you would come to nct. 

“i count to 10 and we coming home.”

“i’m not leaving.” she hissed. “i’m sick of being under your control.”

“what is this noise here?” taeyong appeard in his hallway. the crowd of his people were looking around whole argument.

“you living with my money that i worked for. i pay your bills and all. i’m doing everything for you to have amazing life. why don’t you understand that you will never be normal girl? you will never. you will always be “daughter of mafia” or “sister who hate her parents”. you should accept this.”

“that’s why i fuckin hate you!” she scream. “i don’t want your help. you think you did everything well. i want to throw up everytime i reminds to myself what you are doing. i don’t want to be part of this also i don’t want to live in china. i want to decide.”

you laughed like freak. you were looking at your little sister and couldn’t think of anything but how stupid she actually is. 

“i’m not asking you.” you hissed. “you are ungretful, spoiled brat who thinks that owns the world and is main charcater, don’t you? if you want to be that independent okay. i’m going to block all back acounts from you. from now on you will work your ass off for money. i’m starting counting and you better come here.” you looked in to her eyes. “1..2..3..”

“you aren’t my mother. my mother is dead! understand this!”

 jaehyun was about to say something but taeyong stopped him. he was enjoying the show in front of him. he really loves how crazy you actually are.

“i’m staying with jisung. i won’t come back to home.”

“you are making disrace for our surname. don’t act like fool and come to home. i’m at 7.”

minhee didn’t even flinch.

“i’m not scared of you. after all i’m your family.”

“are you sure honey?” you touched her cheek. “do you know how killed your lovely parents?” she denied. “i did. funni isn’t it? everyone know but not their own daughter. i think you should be scared of me at that point.”

 minhee couldn’t belive her ears. you killed your parents. she was living with you not knowing about everything.

“you are crazy bitch! i hate you! i hate this family! one day i’ll make sure that police or media destroy you.”

“good luck.” you winked and slapped her. “you are no longer part of kims family. i don’t need you. you were the one that needed me.” you said harshly stepping closer and touched her chest to push her. “you are no one know. there is no coming back. you are done in my eyes. dead. and if i see you in my way i’m going to kill your love and then you. and guess what? nothing will bother to help find justice.” you shrugged and smiled one last time “you are free. make sure to change surname and to make it like we have never been family.”

 minhee was holidng her cheek and crying. at this point she knew that she doesn’t really know her own family. that there is secrets that are creepy and scary just like them. and she was sure she doesn’t want to involved. but now she was feeling bad because of what she said. jisung had tried hundred times explain her who you are. that she is doing it for her safety because thousands of people wants her head and she still didn’t listen.

 taeyong was following you.

“are you going to stop going after me or you want me to beat you up?”

“don’t need to be so harsh. i just want to ask you something.” he smiled. “have you ever been in love?”

“the fuck mr. lee? i only met you few times and i talk with you for the second time.”

“just answer me y/n.” his eyes was shining and you liked this view. you liked him to be honest. he did awesome work by finding your fathers money. he was loyal to you and you liked it. also he was handsome. why don’t like him?

“no. i have never been in love. having crush in daughter of mafia doesn’t sound nice right?”

“i don’t belive. you are way too pretty and too smart to be alone the whole time.” you smiled. he was cheesy but you liked it. “i think this can change.”

“do you want to seduce me?” you asked with little smile. “make me feel like i’m special and leave next day?”

“who said i would leave?” he smirked. “you are really something y/n.”

“i think we could talk about it.”

 and here you are. taeyong brings happines to your live. you have never experinced things like the one you do with taeyong. you are no longer alone. you wake up usually in his bed with his eyse piercing in to your soul. jackson and boys were happy that someone is interested in you and you are intrested in someone. they have never seen you having crush in male. but here you are. all over heels over lee taeyong. you didn’t like the idea of him having you wrapped around his finger but who cares? you like it.

“y/n what are you thinking about?”

“taeyong would you kill for me?”

“isn’t it obvious? i know you can do it by yourself but i would always kill anyone who is messing with my girl.”

“since when i’m your girl?”

“since the first time i’ve heard of you y/n.” he kissed you. “why you asking?”

“i feel like i spend way too much time with you so i need to make sure that you are worth it.”

“are you doubting me?” he touch your cheeks. “look at us. we are in my apartment in japan with beautiful view on sea. we are here alone having the best sex of our lives. having each other and telling silly secrets.” he hugged you and you lay your head on his chest. “we don’t need to stress about business. we have each other now. it’s feels like heaven.” 

“we are in japan. we are looking at the sea.” you smiled softly. “it’s almost like dream.”

“i know you have never thing like this. i want to show you life colors you know?” he smiled. “i want you to be happy. i want to see that you enjoy your time and let someone like you more than friend.”

“you just saying that.” you sighed. “you are going to leave soon like everyone in my life. but it’s okay.”

“you will never get rid of me.” he looked deadly in to your eyes. “past six months was like arcadia with you by my side. i feel like i can love you and i know that no one ever loved you the way i do.” he smiled. “but i’m here. i love you.”

“what?”

“you heard me and i’m not going to say this again.”

“lee taeyong you make me feel needed.”

 he was messing so much with your head and you didn’t even mind. he was there. he was with you and makes you forget about any problems. about stress. about work. time with him is smooth. and you love it.

“can we make love this time? not fuck? i want to feel your love even if it’s temporary.” you said with eyes closed while you kissed him

 taeyong smiled wide. he loved the idea of making love and not just fuck.

“my girl is soft.” he teased. “i want to do it. love.”

“i hate you so much sometimes.” you rolled your eyes. “i’m not going to ask anymore. it’s just this once.”

“alright. i got it.”

 you were sure that taeyong will disapear. you can’t show feeling but taeyong.. he show you love. he was there. you didn’t even know when you started to finding yourself making breakfasts for him. hugging him for every 5 minutes. telling him your dreams. listen to him and advice him. making him happy. it comes to you naturally just by watching his moves to you. it was so soft and so new to you. proudness. it what’s you feel. you could love taeyong. you didn’t even love your parents nor sister. it was more like obligation. but with taeyong? you realized your feeling when you were missing him and your mind just focus on him.

 you wanted to be best girlfriend to him. one time he even just put gun in your mouth and say to suck it if you love him just to then have you moaning “love yous”. and you did. not thinking twice. at this moment you both knew that it’s simply love between dificult people.

 taeyong was deep in you. you could feel him hitting right spots.

“how’s my kitten feeling?”

“good. good sir.” you moaned. “i feel like i’m close.” you whines

“i love view of you. you are perfect for me even your pussy is made for me.” he moeaned. “look at you under me. lovely.”

“stop talking and just make me cum.”

“marry me.”

 you were that confused. you were at edge of orgasm and he is telling you this.

“taeyong why are you saying this when we fuck?”

“why not? will you marry me?” he punted deeper and faster. “i would love to see you with my surname. lee y/n.” he smiled giving you hickeys “all by myself. my wife.”

“you got to be kidding me.” you laughed “we are having sex and you asking me about mar-”

 you couldn’t end your sentence because taeyong circled your clit and suddenly wave of pleasure hit you like ddu du and you cum. moaning his name and curling.

“answer kitten.”

“yes. i want to fuckin marry you lee dumbass taeyong.”

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi & Sakura bonding moments in between teaching 🥺

(I wrote a ficlet because i'm weak for bonding moments)

Do not tag Kakas*ku

Words: About 1000. I wrote this in a notebook and then transferred it over XD

“Cha!”

Hearing Sakura’s voice screaming behind him, Kakashi turned in his spot and braced himself to catch whatever poor soul had pissed off his student.

What he saw instead when he looked at Sakura, was not a young girl upset with her teammates (who has already left the training field as soon as Kakashi dismissed them, thankfully), but was instead a frustrated kid trying desperately to fix her hair after a long morning of training.

Which, somehow, was not any less worrisome.

“Every time!” dropping her hairbrush to the ground, she threw her hands down onto her lap, Sakura screamed into the sky. “No matter what I do, my hair always gets messed up!”

Suddenly, his students annoyance made a whole lot more sense. While Kakashi himself had never had such a problem, he had trained with many people who had. Each o them had to come up with their own solution to a problem that plagued many.

For Gai, the solution was carrying around a comb on him at all times.

Anko kept her hair up in a pony tail and only worried about brushing it before bed and when she woke up.

Kurenai, much like Kakashi, had just stopped trying and would only spend the time brushing her hair before bed.

All Sakura needed was to find her own solution to deal with her hair. Something that Kakashi could help her find, maybe.

Gai was always saying that a good Sensei helped their students in any way that they could, so the least he could do was try. It wasn’t like Sakura was having much luck on her own.

Extracting his hands from his pockets, he made his way back towards his student. When she looked up at him with giant sad eyes, he forced himself not to let his discomfort with other people’s strong emotions scare him off. To keep on his path towards Sakura so that he could try to help her in even the smallest way.

“Here,” as soon as he was close enough, he held a hand out towards her and nodded towards the hairbrush that she had discarded on the ground. “Let’s see if Sensei can help.”

Immediately Sakura’s entire face lit up and she picked up the hair brush and held it out towards Kakashi.

“Thank you, Sensei! I never know what to do with my hair. I used to have a friend who helped me with it, but-“

Judging by the sadness that sank deep into her features, there was a story behind her words. Perhaps it was one that Sakura would want be willing to share with him if he asked the right questions.

Sliding in behind her, Kakashi took a seat on the ground and slowly started to pull the brush through long tangled pink strands of hair. The knots making themselves known immediately and forcing him to slow down so that he didn’t hurt her.

The fact that his hair was a hundred times worse than this was the only thing that prevented him from commenting on the horrendous state of Sakura’s hair. At least she tried to do something about it.

“Well, why don’t we start with what idea’s your friend had,” he suggested, tsking when another knot made its presence known as soon as he broke through the first one. “Perhaps there’s a solution that would still work.”

“I-well,” glancing over her shoulder, Sakura immididatly looked away when her Sensei met her gaze. “She gave me a ribbon…”

“That sounds like a smart solution. You wouldn’t happen to-“

“I gave it back.”

Oh.

“Well, in that case we could try something else. Perhaps a ponytail? Or braids?” When his words were met with silence, he decided to try a different approach. “Of, if you want, you could tell me about this friend. Is there a reason that you gave the ribbon back?”

As if a huge weight had suddenly been lifted off of her shoulders, Sakura straightened herself up and proceeded to talk Kakashi’s ear off about her friend. Telling him all about how smart and talented she was, and how her hair was always in perfect condition no matter what she did.

It was obvious that what ever had happened, Sakura missed her friend. A part of her wanted them back in her life, but there was clearly something stopping her from pressuring that friendship again.

Working the brush through another small knot, Kakashi took a second to think through his options.

Unfortunately, the best course of action he could come up with involved sharing personal information about himself. His least favourite thing to do, but Sakura needed his guidance this moment so he was willing to suffer for one day.

“You know, growing up I had a friend that I got into a fight with,” talking about it brought up all of the memories that he wished so desperately to forget. “We fought a lot in fact. Over the dumbest things usually.”

“Did you-“ Sakura’s hands settled on her lap. “You made up, right?”

His heart screamed at him to lie. To just let Sakura think that everything worked out in the end.

But then she might have to learn the same lesson he did the hard way. That time was fleeting, and the future was never a certainty for a shinobi.

It was a lesson he hoped to save all of his students from.

“We never got the chance,” he admitted, keeping his focus on brushing her hair so that he didn’t have to see the way her shoulders slumped in defeat. “He died before we could ever truly make up.”

“Oh…”

Finishing with her hair, Kakashi set the brush down on the ground and gave her his best smile when she looked back at him. A sad, broken smile that no doubt made her feel worse when he was supposed to be helping her.

“I think- I need to go talk to someone important,” she whispered, picking her brush up off of the ground and climbing to her feet. “Thank you, Sensei. For everything.”

Watching as his student turned on her heel and headed for the exit out of the training field, Kakashi couldn’t help but smile to himself. For once, it felt like he had done something right. As if things would get better because of his actions.

It was a damn good feeling. An accomplishment that he would have to tell Gai about the next time they hung out.

[mikkaeus]

lessons from 1000 hours of tutoring high school kids - a letter to my past self

not all those hours were maths, but this is about maths

Not in order of importance; in the order they came to my head. 

1. Do not trust a kid when they say that they understand something. They understand jack shit. Make them explain it back to you. 

2. When teaching sth new try to prod them to reaching the conclusion themselves instead of just straight up explaining it, if time permits. 

3. Things I have assumed and have been sorely mistaken:

a) If an area is identified to be an issue in the lesson, the kid will go and do some questions and revise themselves to fix it.

b) Kids take notes. (I’m still kicking myself for only realising this more than 6 months in with this kid. I get paid too much to be making stupid mistakes like this.)

c) Kids know how to take notes. (Session 1: Take notes, here is a detailed outline that you can then expand on with examples and stuff. Session 2: The kid has copied my scaffold word for word and not expanded anything on it. Me: You need to actually EXPLAIN how to complete the square for example, not just write “completing the square”. Kid: Okay yeah I get it. Session 3: For each topic he’s googled an explanation and copied entire paragraphs word for word, because he “thought they’d phrase it better than him”. He’s using terminology that I 100% guarantee he does not understand at all. I now understand why high school teachers always said use your own words when making notes - something that I had always thought should be blindingly obvious to everyone.)

4. Not everyone is as obsessed with not making mistakes or not being able to solve problems are you are. (For these kids, being stumped at a difficult question isn’t the end of the world.) They think a question ends at figuring out the answer, whether that be from the help of a textbook, the solutions, their friend, or me. You need to impress upon them that it doesn’t matter what the answer is! It’s about what you learn from the question. How was the way they were thinking about the question incorrect? How can they avoid this in the future? What general advice can they give themselves? And then they need to actually commit to reducing incidences of the same mistake in the future. Some kids I’ve been giving the same damn advice to every problem they get stuck on, and magically they can solve it after I give them the advice. Just remember the general advice!! You’re spending all this time studying but you’re running into the same wall over and over again instead of remembering to take the rope out of your bag. I’m not magic! I’m just sitting here reminding you that there IS a rope in your bag!!  (Not that my method of angry scribbling in red pen across my working and writing that I’m a fucking idiot is something I’d actually recommend, but they could definitely afford to be less laissez-faire about learning from their mistakes.)

5. Actually make good notes during the session; otherwise, the kids probably retain nothing. It is kinda awkward to be sitting there writing away but it is a necessarily evil. Also, you can write while they’re chipping away at a question themselves, and that way you don’t need to be watching them like a hawk while they do algebra painfully slowly. (I feel like kids make more mistakes in sessions than they do normally.) 

6. The key to being able to solve a problem is believing that you CAN solve the problem. I’ve been saying this a lot recently - if you follow the rules for maths, there’s no reason it should be wrong - when I have Year 11s and 12s asking me every step of simple algebra if something is correct, or asking whether you’re allowed to do something, and I ask them, “what do you think?” and they reply, “I don’t know.” (Related: Another thing I’ve been saying a lot is that algebra is about doing the same thing to both sides. They just think it’s magic!) Anyway, I brought this up because of problem solving questions actually, not basic algebra. Of course, you can teach them how to break down the question, or general processes like “if you don’t have enough information, go back and check you’ve used everything in the question”, but all that’s useless if they don’t believe that they can solve it by themselves. That means

a) You need to actually encourage them. Even though you’re not a... fluffy or particularly inspiring person, just try. 

b) YOU need to believe that they can do it too. Think of the number of times you’ve been shocked that some kid managed to make a leap of logic you thought was beyond them. Kids are better than you think (and also worse than you think, but we’ve already talked at length about that). 

7. It’s most of the time more beneficial to force the kid to go through the expanded version of the working instead of the abbreviated version. They’re not you, trying to economise as much as possible on working to save precious seconds for rechecking at the end. Don’t push that obsession onto them when their goals and skill level is completely different. Especially if they’re:

a) making silly mistakes

b) not understanding why something works and just following the pattern for a specific context, and then being completely lost in another context. (eg. not being able to use the null factor law for when the factors weren’t linear with a gradient of 1, because they always skipped straight to x= instead of actually writing out each factor equalling zero, and then rearranging). 

8. Stop lecturing for too long. Make sure you’re writing stuff down, not only for the purpose of notes for them to look at later, but because not everyone’s good with auditory learning (you’re one of those people! and yet you subject others to the same shit you rant about out length about your professors!). Make them do work through a problem or part of a problem or ask them questions or something. 

9. A lot of kids do not know how to study properly. A few important things:

a) Do not automatically look back at past questions when solving a Q. You need to treat every question as completely new, and only look back if you’re stuck. That way you force active recall every question and thus making sure you’re actually remembering what the process is. You don’t get any worked examples in your exam. 

b) I do not know how this is every single fucking kid but knowing how to use your dang calculator saves lives!! It’s literally 50% of your grade and you’re sitting there two days before your exam struggling to graph a parabola??? After all the hours you poured into studying the content? Yes your calculators are gross and unfriendly but they’re your best friend. Not only should you know how to use them, you should be fast at using them, and you should know everything it can do that could be remotely helpful. 

c) Sit full exam papers under exam conditions. That shit is like gold and kids are piddling it away by just leisurely working through one question at a time with the help of their textbook (and me). 

d) Print out the formula sheet, and use it. Know what’s on there and what’s not. 

I don’t know if this is a pretty standard experience for people with a track record of excellent academic results* (by this I mean just assuming some things are obvious to everyone) or if I’m particularly bad because I’ve always only interacted with a very narrow range of people. anyway feels fucking bad for my kids but. im trying. god knows ive come a long way since i first started.

*or as I prefer to state it, a track record of being a huge fucking nerd

[codename-adler]

Kevin and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt.III

I don’t know how many parts I can write but I keep going?? It just brings me joy and I hope it does you too <3

>> Table of Contents, TW and other parts here!

they keep this little game going for a few Mondays, where they kind of interact with each other through the lessons and have each other’s back against the rest of the class

Kevin remains at the front seat of the room and Juliet stays at the back by the window

it doesn’t mean they can’t support and encourage each other in subtle ways

when she is calm enough, Juliet will raise her hand and ask him more details about a point he brings during a lecture, because, well, she never really heard about it before and she likes to learn as much as she can (and if she likes his voice and his mannerisms more than those of their teacher, that is her own business...)

when Juliet is confident enough to speak up in class, Kevin only has to turn and stare at the students who keep interrupting or talking over her for them to shut up (he learned a bit from Andrew, after all, and if he uses that opportunity to catch a glimpse of her warm eyes, than that is his own business...)

but what happens in class stays in class; outside, they are strangers once again and go on with their life

they don’t quite forget about each other, but they can’t afford to have other priorities or distractions; we all know Kevin’s life is a mess and a fight for survival; Juliet’s is, in a word, hard...

Monday afternoons are for soldiers to rest.

then, obviously, everything goes to shit

Kengo dies, and then Jean almost dies, and then Renée brings him back and with him, all these fears and feelings and anxieties

Kevin feels guilty, guilty, guilty...

which means he is even more of an asshole to everyone

he skips class the following day, a Monday

Juliet isn’t disappointed at all, and if she happens to listen a little less that day, well that has nothing to do with it

it takes a few days for Kevin to stay more than a minute in Jean’s room at Abby’s; every time he looks at him, his heart races and he feels like throwing up, because I could’ve got him out before & I could’ve brought him with me & I could’ve done more & I knew what would happen to him & this is all my fault & I just left him there & God I’m disgusting

the faces of Jean, and Riko, and Tetsuji, and Neil, and Jean, and Thea and Neil and Seth and Jean all melt together in his mind

and Oh God Thea

instead of the pride he usually felt when thinking of her, he felt fear

but no, that wasn’t quite true; the fear had always been there, burried under pride and satisfaction; now fear was the strongest

after the game on Friday, Kevin spent all night in Jean’s room, watching him from a chair and thinking, just thinking everything over and over again

they didn’t speak, except for when Kevin reassured Jean after nightmares, in a low voice that barely resembled his usually rough tone

somewhere in the night, the reassurances became as much of a mantra for Jean as for Kevin

on Saturday morning, still in Jean’s room, Kevin called Thea.

he asked her if she heard about Kengo (of course I did) and how she felt about it (well I just hope someone is there for Riko, seeing as you left him and Jean was never of much comfort) 

(she couldn’t know about Jean yet, but still)

Kevin hangs up 

then he calls her back

“I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, Thea.”

“I see. Okay. Goodbye, Kevin.”

and that was the end of it

Jean just stares at him from his bed as silent tears fill his eyes

his mind reeling from everything still, Kevin slowly gets up from his chair to go kneel by Jean’s head; with as much care as he ever could, he caresses the back of Jean’s neck, mindful of not touching any wound

as Kevin’s forehead touches with Jean’s, both boys finally exhale

it is not peace. it is not forgivness. it is not shame, nor guilt. 

they are simply two boys who will forever be tangled up in themselves no matter where they are, because they lived through too much together to leave the other behind without feeling like losing a limb

so Kevin stays, this time. he stays all weekend with Jean, wiping away his tears and organizing a future of possibilities for the boy he should have brought with him when he left the Nest

but as soon as he leaves Jean’s side, which is a grand total of four times that weekend, Kevin puts his professional mask on and goes on as if his world wasn’t crumbling down again

so on Monday, Kevin goes to class on the one condition that Abby pulls him out if anything happens with Jean

his mind is still a jumbled mess of Jean/Riko/Thea/Neil/Tetsuji, and sometimes an angelic face with frizzy hair flashes through, but not long enough for him to wonder

which is why he is pulled out of his memories when the teacher announces the group project they’d warned them about at the beginning of the semester

groups of two, maximum three; present two pieces of literature, one from Early America, one from the 21st century inspired by your choice of Early American Literature (no, brandon, you cannot choose The Patriot, it is shit at accuracy); you must each speak for 12 minutes; this thing is due before your finals, LET’S GO PEOPLE

as usual, Kevin assumes he’ll work it out alone, no teacher had ever complained and he just wasn’t in the mood to chit-chat with people who had no consideration for accuracy while Jean was still in a critical state for Christ’s sake!

meanwhile, Juliet was silently chewing her lips until the first layer of skin is torn away, anxiety levels at their highest since a long time; she didn’t know anybody in the class even after a whole semester, she didn’t have any friends, nobody to talk to or to pair up with... well, not anyone who would want to

it takes her everything to get out of her head and move from her desk to the front of the class

“Hi.”

Kevin looks up from his laptop, and there she is

she has a dimple on her right cheek, because she’s stressed out and it translates into a nervous smirk on her lips

“Okay, so... I’m alone. You’re... well, not accompanied, so I was wondering if maybe you’d agree to pair up? I think we’d work great together, you seem to be really invested in your studies. I respect that. Does that... Would you like that?”, Juliet musters up the courage to ask him

“Yes, it’s a good idea”, Kevin replies in slow-motion before even thinking it through

“Really?”, Juliet lets out, disbelieving that her idea even worked out

“Yes...? It’s Juliet?”, Kevin asks even though he knows perfectly well he’d never forget her name. “I’m-” he starts again

“Kevin, yeah, I remember. I mean, it’s kinda hard to forget” Juliet blurts out

oh

oh

she had known all along, hadn’t she?

“You like exy?”, Kevin almost spits back, all warmth gone from his eyes and his jaw heavily clenched

“Uh... The sport with the stick and the ball?”, Juliet tries, visibly lost

“Something like that”, Kevin answers

“I mean, no, I don’t care for it. If you tell me to observe the dynamics between the players and among the team, though, or if you want me to write about it, I might care... Why? It comes from Early America? Is that what you’d like to work on?”, Juliet responds

oh

oh

she doesn’t have a clue, does she?

“No, it’s... nothing. Forget it”, Kevin says slowly. “What did you mean by ‘hard to forget’?”

“Oh. God. Don’t take it personally, but hum, you’re taller that six feet? Sitting right in front of the class? And I know it’s my fault for sitting in the back, but me and my five foot two really can’t see shit. But then you also seem to have endless secret knowledge up your sleeves and it’s made this class a little more tolerable, so, I forgive you for you height of titan.” Juliet rushes out, despite her embarrassment

she is absolutely clueless. he’s just Kevin the huge nerd to her. 

he’s not even bothered by the stickball comment

he’s not even bothered by her complete lack of interest

she doesn’t bother him at all

“Are you sure you’re okay with me? I’ve been told no before, I can take it. It just seemed like a logical idea and-”, Juliet mumbles anxiously

“I’m good. I’m ready when you are”, Kevin cuts her off

her smile was not everything, it was not exy and it was not thea ‘s nor jean’s, but it was a smile untouched by his monsters

and he liked that

[hockeylvr59]

Collide Part 1 || Sidney Crosby

Summary: Life as a single foster mom and a pediatrician didn’t leave much time for dating. But when Dr. Erin Lancaster becomes the pediatrician for Pittsburgh Penguins Defenseman Brian Dumoulin's baby boy, her association and quick friendship with his wife Kayla turns her crazy but quiet life upside down. 

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Welp...I could have had a baby of my own in the time it took me to write this update...I know quite a few of you have been clamoring for it so I hope it was everything you could have imagined. I’m still not sure I have Sid’s personality down...you’d think I’d be able to write my captain better considering he was the first hockey player I ever wrote about but...at least he’s present in this part. 

Warnings: discussion of opiate-addicted infants

Word Count: 2,416

~~~~~~~~~~~

Though my initial meeting with the Dumoulin’s had gone well in my mind, I was still somewhat surprised to step into the office a week later to find Alex practically bouncing off the walls. Taking a sip out of my coffee mug I merely raised an eyebrow at her, an inquisitive look spreading across my face. 

“Don’t get me wrong...I know you’re an incredible doctor but this...this is huge and I don’t know how you did it!” She exclaimed, handing me a stack of papers. Glancing down at them revealed a completed new patient packet, sans baby’s first name, for the Dumoulin’s pending arrival and though mentally my jaw dropped, I outwardly brushed it off, pretending that it wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as it actually was. 

“It’s just another patient Alex.” I reminded her. “He’ll receive the same care as every other patient.” Shaking her head, Alex rolled her eyes at me knowing exactly what I was doing. As I turned on my heel to retreat to my office for twenty minutes of paperwork before our first patient I couldn’t help but smile. “Let the rest of the nurses know they can wear penguins shirts for the home opener.” Her laugh followed me down the hallway and once inside my office I took a moment to bask in scoring my first VIP patient. This could do wonders for my practice moving forward. 

___

That was the last time I’d really thought about having a Pittsburgh Penguin baby as a patient. At the office, I had too many other patients to worry about. At home, I had a five-year-old who had started school for the first time and a seven-year-old who was struggling with math. I was balancing work, helping them with school, and making sure that they had time to do kid things like attending karate and swim lessons, not to mention play dates with other kids. Time was moving faster than I could keep up with but at the same time, I prayed for it to slow down. Life as a foster mom meant that I needed to cherish every moment with these crazy boys because I knew that sooner or later they would likely be leaving my care. And that was a whole bundle of emotions that I would never fully be able to handle no matter how many times it happened. 

Before I knew it, it was already November. Today was supposed to be my afternoon off, yet I found myself headed downtown to Magee Women’s Hospital. 

After checking in at the front desk, I clipped my visitor’s pass onto my blouse and followed the familiar path up to the NICU. Once there I was greeted by one of the nurses I’d gotten to know from the various times I’d been here before. After gowning up, I stepped inside and she led me over to a bassinet containing a tiny baby boy. He was still hooked up to a variety of wires and tubes, his skin was mottled, and his body tremored. Looking down at him, the maternal side of me teared up. No child deserved to enter the world in this kind of pain. Reaching down, I brushed a finger over his head before trailing it down his arm to his hand. Immediately he wrapped his fist around my finger and held on tight. 

“He’s a fighter.” The nurse murmured over my shoulder. “We honestly weren’t sure he was going to pull through but I’d say for the most part he’s out of the woods now.” Nodding I just watched him for a few more minutes before switching back to a more professional mode. 

“Tell me about his history. Everything I need to know.” I expressed. As his nurse told me about the methadone injections he was receiving but would likely need even after he left the hospital and how his condition had been steadily improving, I listened carefully, figuring out the best plan for once he was released into my care. Brushing my fingers over the baby’s head once more, I eventually made my way out of the NICU, tossing the scrubs. It would likely be another week or so before he was ready to be released but once he was, he would be coming home with me for the foreseeable future so that he could continue to have expert care while residing in a home setting. 

Checking my watch revealed that I had another hour and a half or so before I needed to pick my boys up from their various activities. As I debated what to do with that time, I fixed my hair into a fresh ponytail before moving to pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans. 

“Dr. Lancaster?!” Glancing up, I saw that it was one of the nurses in the maternity ward that had called my name. Moving over to the nurses’ station I smiled at her, leaning against the counter. 

“Yes?” I inquired. 

“Oh good, that is you.” The young nurse murmured softly. “Melinda said you were down in the NICU…” She explained. “I was looking through the paperwork for one of our newborns and I noticed you were the pediatrician of record. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.” She expanded. “They’re down in room 314 if you wanted to pop in and say hello.” Before she had even finished speaking she was dashing off down the hall in the opposite direction as a scream sounded from one of the delivery rooms. 

For a moment I stood frozen, honestly racking my brain trying to figure out what patient she was talking about. Then I started off in the direction of 314, deciding that I would just have to wait and see. It wasn’t until I noticed that this wing of the maternity ward was nearly empty that the most likely possibility clicked. Clearly keeping track of due dates was not my strongest skill...generally because I usually didn’t need to. 

Approaching the room I heard soft voices speaking and I gently knocked before popping my head in. Immediately my eyes met the sight of Brian perched on the bed over his wife, newborn in her arms. 

“Are you up for visitors?” I whispered. “I won’t stay long, I was just in the building and a little birdie told me you were here so I thought I’d stop by.” 

Kayla’s voice was soft and tired but she quickly nodded. “Of course. Come in, come in.” She insisted. Stepping into the room I shut the door behind me and moved quietly across the room. 

“How are you feeling?” I asked her. “Everything go fairly smoothly?” 

“Sore. Tired.” She declared. “But he’s here and we’re both healthy so I’d say it went okay.” 

“Good.” I murmured. Before I could say anything else, another knock sounded at the door and another head popped in. This time, Brian moved to stand up and as a body came through the door, I watched as the two of them hugged each other, arms moving around the flowers in the new visitor’s hand. It wasn’t until they pulled away that I realized who this visitor was and immediately my throat went dry. 

“Hey, Sid.” Kayla breathed, shifting the baby a bit in her arms. 

“These are for you. The team sends their love and congratulations.” He responded, moving over to give her a quick half-hug as well. It was only then that he noticed he wasn’t the only visitor in the room and paused. 

“Sid, this is our pediatrician Dr. Lancaster. Dr. Lancaster, this is Sid.” Brian introduced. Suddenly a warm hand was reaching out to me in greeting and I took it, frantically trying to pull myself back together. Meeting Brian was one thing, meeting Sidney Crosby...that was another entirely. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sid said, his voice familiar but yet different at the same time. 

“The pleasure is all mine. But it’s just Erin.” I replied, taking a deep breath before turning back to Kayla and the baby. “Do you mind if I look at his chart?” I questioned, professional curiosity filling me. Of course, it was only a matter of time before these records were sent to me anyway, but with a nod from Kayla, I reached for his chart beside the bassinet, looking over his APGAR scores and the nurse’s notes. Nodding to myself for a moment, I set it back down and smiled. 

“Sounds like you’ve got a strong, healthy little boy there.” I declared. Parental pride filled both Kayla and Brian’s faces at the compliment. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Kayla asked, and never one to turn down having a baby in my arms I quickly agreed, gently shifting him to cradle against my chest. Looking between him and both Kayla and Brian I tried to determine who he looked the most like right now and when I expressed that he had Brian’s nose they both laughed. 

“Have you guys picked a name?” Sid inquired from his spot leaning against the foot of the bed. Brian quickly nodded, glancing down at his wife before sharing. 

“Brayden Joseph.” Glancing down at the baby in my arms I immediately decided that the name suited him and murmured softly to him in greeting, introducing myself as his doctor and expressing that I didn’t expect him to like me at first because of the required shots to keep him healthy. This time, when I looked up from talking softly to the baby Kayla and Brian were sharing a soft look as he whispered in her ear and I could feel Sid’s gaze on me. Meeting his eyes I saw warmth but also a lingering sadness and I quickly drew my bottom lip between my teeth as I broke the gaze suddenly feeling like I had a stomach full of molasses. 

“So Dr. Lancaster…” Sid addressed. “Do you make hospital visits to all of your new patients?” I couldn’t tell by the tone of his voice what he was thinking or why he had asked. It wasn’t quite accusatory but at the same time, there was a tenseness to it. Deciding that I just didn’t know him and therefore shouldn’t read into it, I shrugged softly. 

“Only when I happen to already be in the building.” 

“Yeah, you mentioned that….everything okay?” Brian jumped in. 

“Of course. I was here in a semi-professional manner.” I explained. “I needed to stop down at the NICU to meet a baby that I’ll be fostering when he’s released so that I could figure out what I need and discuss the best care plan.” 

“Dr. Lancaster...Erin…” Kayla quickly corrected, nodding at me for my approval. “In addition to being an incredible doctor, is also a foster parent, Sid.” There was an underlying current of unspoken communication going on between the three of them, one that I wasn’t going to pry into. 

“So you’ll have a newborn at home in addition to the other two?” Kayla asked as Brayden started fussing causing me to hand him back to his mom. 

“Lord help me but yes.” I breathed, chuckling softly. “I’ll have three boys. Two rambunctious ones that keep me on my toes and then this new baby which might be the hardest to deal with of all three. I love when I get babies into my care but hate when it’s because they were born with opiate addiction and need specialized care just to stand a chance.” Both Kayla and Brian’s eyes went wide and I shoved my right hand into the front pocket of my jeans. “I’m not gonna lie, he's still in rough shape but the nurses think he’s out of the woods now. It always breaks my heart seeing them that way though. Knowing I’m going to have to give him daily injections for at least a few more weeks to help his body slowly withdraw from the drugs he’s been exposed to.” 

“Wow.” This time the voice came from Sid and I nodded glancing over at him. 

“It breaks my heart but I’ll do it again and again because I know that my experience and ability to provide elevated care and monitoring gives him the best chance moving forward.” 

The mood in the room had taken a turn for the serious and I let out a deep breath before pasting a smile back on my face. 

“It makes me even more grateful though for all of my patients that have fantastic momma’s and who are healthy and strong.” I tease, my words thankfully bringing a smile back to Kayla’s face and then Brian’s along with his wife’s. 

Feeling my phone buzz in my pocket, I glance at my watch again and mumble a curse. 

“And this was already longer than the short visit I promised, but I have to get going, I’ve got a seven-year-old to pick up from karate and then I have to make dinner for him and the five-year-old being dropped off from a play date.” 

“Thank you for stopping by.” Brian declared, moving over to shake my hand. 

“Of course. I’ll see you guys soon.” I promised. Still, there was something about the look on Kayla’s face that made me pause though I did need to leave. “Hey, Brian...grab your phone.” Once he had, I rattled off my cell phone number. “If you guys have any questions, concerns, etc. Things that you think it would be too silly to call the office over, text or call me. I know first-time parenthood isn’t easy but you’re gonna be great.”  

As I headed for the door, I turned for just a moment. 

“And it was nice to meet you, Sid.” 

It wasn’t until both boys were tucked into bed and I was settled into my own trying to get my mind to shut down so I could sleep that the encounter with Sid entered my mind once more. It wasn’t something I could wrap my mind around, his behavior struck me for reasons I couldn’t explain but at the same time, I couldn’t get the feeling of his hand in my own or the swirling shades of his eyes out of my head. It was a level of confusion I just didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with so I brushed it aside, refocusing my brain on all of the things I needed to get done tomorrow. 

Outfit Inspiration:

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXVI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I promise I have this shit handled there won’t be more drama than needed I PROMISE -Danny

Words: 3,545

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Want You Back’ -by 5sos

Chapter Fourteen: A Distraction.

"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" Hermione explained quickly as she handed a coin to each student. 

"On real Galleons, that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry and Mel set the date of the next meeting they'll change the numbers on their coin, and because we've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic theirs."

"Took the majority of our weekend to make 'em, but I think we did a decent job," Mel smiled proudly.

After a couple of seconds where no one said anything, Hermione added anxiously:

"Well — when Mel told me about this I thought it was a good idea– I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But... well, if you don't want to use them..."

"You can do a Protean Charm?" said Terry Boot.

"Yes," said Hermione. "I mean, Mel and I just learned so they could be a bit faulty, but we're quite sure they'll work just fine..."

"But that's... that's N.E.W.T. standard, that is," he said weakly.

"Oh," said Hermione, trying to sound modest. "Oh... well... yes, I suppose it is..."

"Well, I'm not having lessons with my uncle for nothing," Mel laughed. "I'm a natural talent, and Hermione is a fast learner. You can trust us."

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" Terry asked in shock. "With brains like yours?"

"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," said Hermione with joy, "but it decided on Gryffindor in the end."

"And when the hat sorted me, I was definitely not Ravenclaw-worthy," Mel said, deep in thought. "I wonder if it would change its mind now that I'm older..."

"So does that mean we're using the Galleons?" Hermione insisted.

There was a general agreement and everyone dispersed, Mel went back to the bookshelves and put a bit of order before leaving.

"You're a brilliant teacher," said a voice behind her.

Mel turned around to see Fred standing there, his arms crossed.

"Arranging books isn't that hard... neither is reading them, you know?" She teased.

"I prefer to use my time on more enjoyable things," He shrugged, the boy got closer and picked up a few books to help her. "Like working on my products... talking to pretty girls..."

"What do you want?" She snorted.

"What, I'm nice and suddenly you assume I need something?"

She stared at him knowingly, raising a brow.

"Okay, fine," He sighed. "Some of us talked and decided I was the bloke that had to come and ask you..."

"Ask what?"

"Well, you see, we're confused," He continued carefully. "...About your love life."

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Oh, it's not, believe me," Fred raised a brow. "But my friends are cowards and I'm your friend, so they pushed me to ask you. Because they're really invested in your life, and they want to know–"

"If I'm available?" Mel ended. "Sorry to be the one who tells them this, but I like people who aren't afraid of me."

"They're not afraid of you," The boy hesitated, "not in the way you think."

"I'm their teacher, I can't date them," She replied casually.

"Don't try to give that excuse," Fred responded right away. "Harry's been all over Cho and she's his student as well!"

"Yeah, but I'm not Harry."

Fred stayed quiet for a moment before trying again.

"I don't know why would he choose her over you, though."

"Fred," She warned him. "Not now..."

"No, really," He continued. "I don't know what happened, but you seemed to be having the best time and then the third task came and–"

"Exactly," She dropped a book on the table with a loud thud. "You don't know. No one does and I would appreciate it if everyone could just stop trying to know..."

"We worry about you," He frowned. "You're not the same. Harry's not the same, we know something really awful happened if You-Know-Who's trying to kill you. But you don't have to go through it alone."

"You want to help me?" She turned around, walking up to him and poking his chest with her finger. "Stay out of it. Don't ask. That'll help me more than dating one of your friends."

"I'm not trying to set you up with anyone, I'm just trying to understand!"

"Understand what?" Mel asked in frustration. "I have friends, people listen to me– They invite me places, some even want to date me! I've never been better!"

"You have," He pushed her hand away. "Last year, after Harry pulled you out of the lake–"

"Honestly, to hell with Harry," She scowled. "I don't need him. He doesn't need me. We found common ground while planning these lessons and that's really all the interaction we require. I still care about him and I will help him if he asks nicely, but I don't–"

"Mel–"

"I'm fine!" She raised her voice. "I'm so busy– the lessons and the D.A.– and Umbridge being a pain, and that nagging headache that comes and goes every time this bloody boy gets in trouble–"

"Mel..."

"So what if he wants to date Cho?" She started to pick up more books and setting them in random places. "I'm no one to stop him. We never dated! I can't have feelings for him!"

"But you do."

"Of course I do, Fred!" Mel blurted out. "I'm in love with him!"

The girl closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn't going to cry a second time because of a boy, let alone in front of someone else.

"Hey," Fred stirred into acting and hugged her gently. "I get it... No, I don't. But I don't judge you."

"Why not?" She said hoarsely. "I'm an idiot. He rejected me months ago and I can't let it go."

He shrugged.

"Listen, I'm no expert at romance, but you obviously need time to figure things out. I'll make sure my friends won't annoy you, don't worry, you'll be left alone if that's what you want."

"Not alone," She held onto him in worry. "I don't want to be left alone– just... it'd be nice if they can give me space."

"Whatever suits you, Lady," He agreed. "You know, I'm not used to being the comforting bloke. I'm more the funny type."

"Growing up means you learn how to be both," She said softly. "I think you're great."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere with me," He raised a brow.

"I'd never heard such a blatant lie."

Ron sat down next to her with an air of despair. She put an empty bowl in front of the boy.

"I must've been mental to do this," He mumbled. "Mental."

"Don't be thick," said Harry, sitting on his other side and handing him the cereal. "You're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous."

"I'm rubbish. I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"

"Ron, when we trained together you were wonderful!" Mel frowned. "Don't let their sneers get to you, you've worked hard!"

"Get a grip," said Harry. "Look at that save you made with your foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant —"

"That was an accident!" He said, turning an ugly shade of green. "I didn't mean to do it — I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and I was trying to get back on and I kicked the Quaffle by accident."

"Well," Harry glanced at her in a silent plea, "a few more accidents like that and the game's in the bag, isn't it?"

"Certainly!" Mel agreed, knowing that even the slightest argument could mess with Ron's spirits.

"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked her brother as soon as she and Hermione sat down.

"He's just nervous," Harry replied quickly.

"Well, that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous," said Hermione heartily.

"Definitely helps you be more cautious," Mel nodded, softly rubbing Ron's back.

"Hello," Luna walked up to them, she was wearing a massive Lion head as a hat, which she pointed casually. "I'm supporting Gryffindor. Look what it does..."  She tapped it with her wand. The lion roared so loudly a few students chocked on their food.

"Wicked!" Mel said.

"It's good, isn't it? I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway... good luck, Ronald!"

"Isn't she lovely, Ron?" Mel beamed. "She came to wish you good luck, wasn't that nice?"

"Wonderful," Ron said dryly.

Angelina, Katie, and Alicia appeared behind them.

"When you're ready," Angelina said, "we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."

"We'll be there in a bit," Harry replied. "Ron's just got to have some breakfast."

But no matter how hard Mel and Harry tried to convince him to eat, he refused every attempt. Mel got up to follow the boys outside, Hermione did as well and pulled Harry aside for a second.

"Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges," she whispered.

Mel knew what she was talking about, those badges with 'Weasley is our king' written on them. She'd tried to hex them while no one was looking, but one warning look of Hermione was enough to stop her.

"Good luck, Ron," Hermione put one hand on her friend's shoulder and kissed his cheek. "And you, Harry —"

Mel had to hide her smile after seeing the boy's reaction to Hermione's gesture. Then, as fast as the pleasant feeling appeared, it also came the realization that there was one tradition that she could not do.

She walked quietly next to Ron, praying that Harry was too distracted with his friend to even remember the missing element. She got to the changing rooms and gave Ron a tight hug, whispering soft words of comfort that she knew her friend was not listening.

"Lady!" Fred and George were coming from the castle, and a huge relief washed over her. "Came to wish us good luck?"

Harry froze, she saw him turn and silently cursed the twins, the boy seemed to have forgotten about the tradition, but at the mention he immediately backtracked. Mel ran up to the twins pretending she hadn't seen him.

"I actually came to wish Ron good luck, this being his first game and all," She smiled. "But I guess it'd be better if I wish you all good luck, you need all the good wishes you can get."

"That we do," George frowned, looking at Ron over her shoulder. "How's he doing?"

"If I'm honest, terribly," Mel said grimly. "Please don't mess with him today, all right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," He sighed. "Thank you for your good wishes, Lady."

"No problem," She said brightly.

Mel hugged both -having to stand on her tiptoes but not as much as before- when it was Fred's turn, he held onto her a bit longer to whisper in her ear.

"Wasn't this your tradition with Harry? The good luck hugs?"

"I can't do it!" Mel said, holding onto Fred tighter. "What should I do?"

"Well, you could be a twat and leave after I break the hug," He offered. "Or you could stop being silly and just wish him good luck as well. You don't have to hug him or anything..."

She gulped.

"Fine. Thank you."

Fred stepped back, his usual playful grin appearing.

"Hey, if I remember correctly the hug always comes with a kiss– Where's ours?"

"Win the game and you might get it," She snickered.

Fred and George walked past -not without ruffling her hair first- and left her at Harry's mercy. True to Fred's words, he approached her.

"You know..." He started. "I'm glad you came to wish us good luck and... er–"

"Of course," Mel said. "Ron's one of my best friends."

Harry lowered his gaze.

"Yeah, I know that..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "See you..."

Harry looked up, those gloomy eyes finding hers.

"Good luck," She said, nodding shortly and leaving before her urge for physical contact could convince her to do something stupid.

Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin, He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King.

"Hermione I beg you," Mel groaned. "One hex, let me do it once and I promise I'll be quiet for the rest of the game."

"I can't, Mel. If you do it I'll have to take points from you."

"But listen to them!"

"I know! But it's best if we just ignore it–"

"Not for Ron it isn't!" Mel huffed.

Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King.

"Tell me, nutty," Pansy pushed her way through the crowd. "How does it feel to know you're about to lose to Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Who said we're losing?" Mel asked without looking at her, her knuckles white from the effort of keeping a neutral attitude.

"— and Pucey's dodged Alicia again, and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!"

The crowd on her side groaned and swore under their breath. Pansy laughed happily.

"Are you going to comfort your boyfriend after the game is over? I can picture him all grumpy and mean– and you still melt around him as if he were the cutest kitten!"

"You're one to talk," Mel rolled her eyes. "Harry's not my boyfriend. When your friends care about you that's what you do, you comfort them. But of course you wouldn't know, you have no real friends..."

"You call that group of admirers your friends?" Pansy sneered. "As if they actually cared about you, they just talk to you because they're brainless!"

"Is that why you're talking to me, then? Leave me alone. I want to watch the game."

"Pansy, we should move," She heard Daphne Greengrass's voice. "We're surrounded..."

Pansy pushed Mel's shoulder as she walked past, which wasn't any better, cause now she had no excuse to not pay attention to the tragedy happening in front of her.

Poor Ron couldn't catch a break and Mel felt something growing around her, her anxiety and anger were building up as the Slytherin sang louder. Mel breathed in and out several times, she looked down to the part of the railing she was holding and saw her hands were leaving a dark stain on it.

Suddenly, Harry dived down to catch the snitch, Malfoy following suit. Her mood lifted instantly, if she could trust in something, that was Harry's quidditch skills. In a matter of seconds, Harry stabilized his broom, the snitch safely guarded inside his palm.

Mel was in the middle of letting out a relieved sigh when a bludger hit Harry right at the base of his back, the impact pushed him out of his broom and Mel's stomach dropped even though he had been merely four or five feet away from the ground.

"Is he all right?!" Mel leaned over the railing and Hermione was quick to hold her back.

She heard Parvati and Lavender giggling behind her.

"Oh, there it is," Lavender laughed.

"You had us worried, Mel! Ever since the year started we were wondering whether if you had moved on from your little crush..."

"Yeah, for a moment you fooled us!" Lavender laughed, though it wasn't meant to be mocking. "But hey, if he goes to the hospital wing again we'll make sure to send you breakfast and dinner so you don't famish while you look after him."

Harry was okay after all, and he got up like nothing had happened. After she confirmed this, a wave of annoyance hit her.

Why, even after all those months staying away from him, people kept insisting on calling her Harry's admirer? That was long over! She wouldn't drop everything just to help him. She could've ignored those comments when Fred mentioned them, and she could've let it go when Pansy taunted, but for some reason, hearing her own classmates say it made her blood boil.

She wasn't an extension of Harry, she was her own person! She even regretted telling Fred she was in love. She was not. Definitely not.

She saw the girls in the team holding Fred back, and George being held back by Harry. Her eyes soon found Malfoy, who was saying something to them with a nasty smirk.

"We have a problem," She told Hermione and quickly made her way out of the stands to stop whatever Malfoy was attempting to create.

"Or perhaps," Malfoy was saying as she arrived, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it —"

Harry and George jumped into action, not even caring about pulling out their wands, they went at it with their bare fists.

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!"

Mel pushed some people out of the way, but the scandal caught everyone's attention and it was harder to get to them.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" Madame Hooch shouted. Harry and George flew far from Malfoy's reach. "What do you think you're doing? I've never seen behaviour like it — back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

Malfoy was whimpering on the ground, completely beaten. Fred was being held by the three Gryffindor chasers and he was completely red. Harry and George got up, panting and bleeding, bruised all over. She felt her knuckles tingling, the side of her head was pounding. Harry was hurting.

She walked up to Fred instead.

"It's okay!" She yelled at the girls. "I got this!"

She saw their relieved expressions, everyone knew that the only student the twins would listen to apart from Lee was Mel. They let him go, and he tried to walk up to Malfoy, but Mel stood in his way.

"Calm down!" She held him back. "Your brother's in trouble already, don't do this to Angelina!"

"You didn't hear what he was saying," Fred used a voice she'd never heard before. "That fucking rat–"

"It's over," Mel insisted, trying to ignore the pulsations on her body that she knew belonged to Harry's side of the lifeline. "Look at him! The guy's pulp at this point..."

"Yeah, but he's not dead, so there's a few things I can do..." He tried to get rid of her, but Mel only moved her hands up to cup his face and forced him to look at her.

"You're not doing anything! You'll get punished too!"

"It'll be worth it!" He insisted. "And you can't stop me!"

Mel was angry for several reasons. She was angry because Harry was angry, and she'd been through a roller coaster of emotions that morning. She was vulnerable and having a hard time muting out Harry's feelings. She just couldn't do it.

She was pissed because no matter how far from Harry she'd stand, people kept seeing her as his delusional devotee, it didn't matter how nice she was with the rest of the school, most only talked to her out of pure selfish interest, either popularity or trying to have their way with her.

It was humiliating to see how everyone just continued to compare her to the men in her life. Like she couldn't be relevant on her own. If she didn't have a voice, at least she'd make sure no one would look at her and think she was Harry's.

Mel held Fred's face tighter and pulled him down in a sudden kiss. She heard gasps and whispers all around her, she felt Fred going terribly stiff for a second before abruptly reciprocating. His actions took her by surprise and she yelped, jumping out of reach.

Fred blinked, his arms hovering on the same place where her figure had been seconds before, he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Wha..?" He said, sounding completely lost. "What?"

"You won," She blurted out, looking around and realizing than most of her classmates had seen her. "I said that if you won, I'd kiss you–"

"You said maybe," He interrupted in bewilderment.

"I know what I said!" Mel felt like she could faint out of pure embarrassment. "Maybe I just wanted to kiss you!"

"Well, maybe I should ask you on a date!" He replied defensively.

"I'd say yes, thank you!" The girl pulled her robes up her neck. Then she added in discomfort. "Can we please leave now?"

The boy noticed everyone was looking at them and nodded. They left the field, keeping as much distance between them as possible.

'What have I done?' Mel thought in distress.

Next Chapter —> 

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @sarcasticallywitty15 @21bruhs

[krizaland]

Revenge of the Mad King Chapter 2

Previous

I’ve been working on this fic for quite a while, so I’m probably going to spam the chapters I’ve finished but after that things might slow down.

Be warned: This fic deals with obsessive behaviors, stalking, kidnapping, forced eye contact, forced kissing, death threats, canon typical violence, and love triangles.

And with that you followed Dib onto the bus with Zim grumbling behind.

The moment you plopped down next to Dib, he begun to tell you all about he and Zim’s adventure in the Zimvoid.

Your eyes widened in horror when Dib described the atrocious conditions the Zims were forced to live in!

Your heart nearly skipped a beat when Zim gloated about all of his victories in the Arena.

But yet when Dib described Zib, you felt conflicted.

You were horrified by the atrocities Zib had committed but yet you couldn’t help but pity him.

Zib’s life must have been beyond miserable if it pushed him to madness.

“Y/N? You ok?”

The sound of Dib’s voice jolted you from your thoughts.

“Huh? Oh yeah! Just…Wow….That was a lot to take in…”

SCREECH!

The bus had finally pulled up to the Skool.

You, Dib, and Zim filed off the bus with the rest of the students.

As you trudged on to your next class, your mind wandered back to think of Zib.

“I hope he’s doing ok right now…”

Little did you know, Zib witnessed the entire conversation and was seething with rage.

“How dare those two inferior softies spread such LIES about me!” Zib roared as he slammed his fists onto his keyboard.

“WELL, ZIB THEY WEREN’T EXACTLY WRONG-”

“SILENCE! It’s obvious those two FOOLS are trying to prevent me from saving sweet Y/N from their clutches!” Zib’s voice sounded like Zim’s as he ranted.

“ZIB, I DON’T THINK THEY EVEN KNOW ABOUT-”

“I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO BE QUIET!”

Zib took in a deep breath for a moment before a huge unnerving grin spread across his face.

“Computer, activate the teleporter.” Zib’s voice had returned to normal but his words were dripping with venom.

“BUT ZIB I DON’T THINK IT’S SAFE FOR YOU-”

“I DON’T PAY YOU TO CONTRADICT ME!”

“YOU DON’T PAY ME AT ALL…”

“Just do it!”

“VERY WELL….RIGHT AWAY, ZIB…”

FSSH!

“TELEPORTER FULLY OPERATIONAL BUT SERIOUSLY, ZIB I REALLY DON’T THINK YOU SHOULD-”

“TELEPORT ME TO Y/N RIGHT NOW!�� Zib commanded as he hopped into the teleporter.

The computer sighed

“RIGHT AWAY ZIB..”

FSSSSSSHHHH!

With a bright flash, Zib was in front of the Skool.

“Tch. I’m perfectly fine! My Computer is such a w-w-w-worrywart”

Zib let out a startled gasp.

“What the-?! What’s wrong with my v-v-v-voice?! Why am I glitching?!”

Zib tried to reach for his PAK only to be met with a

ZAP!

A small spark smacked away his hand.

“OW! Looks like the teleporter fried my P-P-P-PAK a bit. No matter, I can take care of it later. Right now I need to focus on saving Y-Y-Y-Y/N”

And with that, Zib stormed into the Skool.

Meanwhile, you had just made it to your next class.

You took your usual seat next to Zim as Ms. Bitters slithered in.

Dib panted as he trotted into class.

“Dib! You’re late!” Ms. Bitters growled.

“Sorry, Ms. Bitters… I picked up a strange disturbance and-”

“SIT DOWN!”

“Yes ma’am…..”

Dib slunk into his seat and let out an annoyed huff.

“Class, it seems we have a surprise new student.” Ms. Bitters snarled as she gestured to the open door.

An all too familiar laugh echoed throughout the room.

Dib’s eyes widened in horror.

“No…”

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Heavy boots clicked against the dusty tiles.

Zim’s face paled.

“It can’t be…”

With a single dramatic motion, the newcomer sauntered right in front of the chalkboard.

“Zib?!”

Your jaw nearly hit your desk!

There, standing before you was indeed Zib, just as grotesque as Zim and Dib described him to be.

A massive, unnerving grin spread across Zib’s face, revealing countless rows of sharp teeth.

“Hello friends, my name is Zib. Don’t mind me! I won’t be here for very long anyway!”

“Alright! Now take that open seat behind Y/N!” Ms Bitters barked as she pointed to the seat behind you.

“Oh with pleasure!” Zib giggled as he eagerly zipped behind you.

You felt a chill run down your spin as Zib took his seat.

Your heart may have felt bad for him but your gut thought otherwise.

“You’re even more breathtaking in person....”

You jumped and turned around to face Zib only for him to feign innocence by whistling.

You shrugged off the creepy comment and tried to focus on the lesson.

However that was easier said than done for every so often, Zib would disrupt your focus.

From whispering answers into your ear, to trying to sniff the back of your neck, Zib was starting to become quite the nuisance.

You were about to confront Zib about his creepy behavior when-

BRRRRRRINGG!!

The lunch bell rang.

“Go to lunch now!” Ms. Bitters barked as she pointed to the door.

You didn’t have to be told twice!

You gathered your things and darted out the door.

You tried to make your way to Zim only to feel a pair of cold hands clamp around your waist.

.

“Y/N! Wait!”

A startled yelp escaped your throat as you were pulled into Zib’s chest.

“Shhh....It’s alright darling, it’s just me,” Zib whispered as he caressed your face.

“Zib?! What the hell was that for?!” You demanded as you pushed him off of you.

“Aww! You’re so cute when you’re m-m-m-mad! Anyhow, I’m here to save you!” Zib giggled as he pulled you close again.

“Rescue me?! From what?!” You snapped as you wriggled in his grip.

“From them...” Zib spat as he gestured to Zim and Dib arguing in front of their lockers.

“You mean my friends?!”

“How could you be so blind, Y/N?! Those two are not your friends! They’re FILTHY L-L-L-LIARS!” Zib roared, his voice sounding like Zim’s as he spoke.

You nearly did a double take!

After looking at Zim, you turned back to face Zib

“Was....Was that you?”

Zib’s face heated up as a nervous giggle escaped his throat.

“O-o-o-oh! Heh! S-s-s-sorry about that! Sometimes my voice gl-gl-gl-glitches”

“I can tell....”

“Anyhow! Those two FILTHY L-L-L-LIARS, have been poisoning your handsome mind for far too long! I couldn’t just sit by and watch them manipulate you! So I’m going to take you back to my dimension! You can live there with me and rule by my side!” Zib cackled as he raised a fist.

“What?! That’s crazy! There’s no way I’m going anywhere with you!”

A large, unnerving grin spread across Zib’s face, revealing his countless rows of sharp teeth.  

“Oh I’m sorry, Y/N! I didn’t mean to make it sound like a choice”

You let out a yelp and bolted towards Zim and Dib.

“ZIM!! DIB!! HELP ZIB’S GONNA-”

You felt Zib’s hand slap over your mouth.

CLICK!

Zib slapped a pair of alien sleep cuffs around your wrists.

You tried to fight back but your knees buckled, causing you to fall to the ground.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll take good care of you...”

That was the last thing you heard before your world went dark.

Next

[cutegirlmayra]

Lately we've seen Sonic and Amy together these past few years. Sonic Forces for phones in a matter of events, the IDW (although they are not 100% canon), a few official images of the two in official accounts, the new line stickers did not look so much Amy stalking and Sonic uncomfortable; On the contrary they look good or have put it as if they were Sega's Mickey and Minnie Mouse. Do you think there will be a small future for the possible couple?

It’s true! Sega has been re-marketing over these new ‘eras’ you could say within media and advertising. It’s interesting to see their ‘new direction’ with so many ‘projects’ to find that ‘Sonic flare’ that once sparked the whole series into great appeal and success.

I have great hopes for them. I know it’s coming slowly, but as a little girl I once predicted that SEGA would have an ultimate question… Would romance in the Sonic series improve the brand as a whole? Is it successfully marketable?

Over the last few years, I have been studying and watching SEGA’s strategies and trying to learn the best I can while not being ‘in the loop’ so to speak. They’re kinda experimenting, and I worry it could be forced.

I’m only hoping that they realize Shipping and the possibility of young love isn’t a bad marketing idea. In fact, the themes of love and self-healing (Much like Steven Universe) and Friendship with Magical Success that makes sense (My Little Pony) are doing incredible.

Sonic’s main ‘theme’ was about nature vs. metal, man and his unbreakable soul, and how a life with friends is more than any life alone.

If they can put ‘Love of Friends’ and ‘Caring for others’ with the idea that Sonic and Amy, along with other couples they’ve established, could translate into a cute ‘crushing’ moments that could boost the series into more mainstream for this generation, it could be epic!

We want more emotion, but what we really want is that rebel heroism we saw in Sonic at the very beginning. He wasn’t as unconventional as Batman, as Lawful Good as Superman, or as Tragic as most superhero stories go.

He wasn’t Mario, who got the job done with a smile and Yahoo!

He was dealing with metallic scrap ruining his world. He was alone and had to accept others, but only under the condition, they accepted him and his way. He had to learn to care for others and not just protect them and then ditch them.

Sonic’s core is his unbreakable will, but then also his undeniable heart.

He loves his friends.

He loves nature and the world he races upon.

He loves his life.

That is inspiring. It’s subtle, as is most things in Japanese animation, but it’s what drew us to Sonic and his unusual character.

He’s cocky, he’s fun to watch, he’s hyper but chill… and he won’t back down.

Not all heroes can show a raw side and a big heart at the same time. Sonic can.

How does Amy fit into this world? This brand?

If Sonic is the will/soul of the series, Tails is the can-do spirit. The mind over matter. If I try, if I believe in myself as my friends and hero idol do, then I can do anything so long as I don’t give up. Knuckles, muscle, but brawns is used for valiant causes like saving your friends and doing the right thing without hesitation. You can’t just isolate yourself, you need others, and others need you.

Then there’s Amy.

The Heart.

People can change, they’re good, there is more then just fighting, life is meant to be enjoyed and not dull or boring, you can seize your own destiny, you can fight for those you love and the future you want to pursue, you don’t have to give up your dreams, you are special and wanted, you can make a difference, you’re strong so long as you don’t ever give up!

There is so much Amy brings… and when she’s tossed to the sidelines, we lose that emotional grip and the cliffhanger of seeing Amy’s subtle lessons inspire the rest of the gang and give us emotional depth physically on the screen…

You can’t cut women and their influence out. Even if it’s Shonen.

Rouge too, Blaze as well… All the girls have something that is hard to translate through a male character. (It can happen! Don’t get me wrong, I love sensitive guy characters!)

To abandon ‘heart’ from your series… to give those roles to the other 3 or even to other characters doesn’t work as well since Amy was LITERALLY crafted to be that glue that kept that emotional turmoil and comfort in a beautiful balance.

Devotion to one’s heart.

The heart is strong, no matter what. It may fight for different reasons, but each is a strong emotion that can’t be denied nor forgotten.

The heart suffers, but it does so for others.

Because it cares, it speaks up, and won’t let you carry on if it’s wrong or hurting others.

The heart can be easily beguiled or deceived, manipulated, and used…

The heart can also quickly forgive, not judge, and love unconditionally.

The heart sacrifices, is unselfish, and undeterred.

The heart is hopeful, and ever-patient…

The heart can be fierce because it feels so much and will scold you when its called for. It’s brave and true but most of all-

It perseveres.

Gets back up.

“I told you didn’t I? There was no way Sonic would let something like that happen!” - Sonic Unleashed, Amy Rose.

Believes.

The heart is strong.

And to be without a cute little romance like what the heart seeks, is like denying the heart altogether.

“There was always something fun to do with Sonic around. I really miss him.“ - Sonic Adventure

”I hate it when they leave me behind!“ -  ”Have no fear! Amy Rose is here!“  - ”I know that people fight over the most trivial things. Some people may be selfish like the Professor said… But they’re basically good. If they try their best and never give up on their wishes…. They always have a reason to be happy. That’s why you should help them out… Saving them is a good thing!“  - Sonic Adventure 2

”Love changes everything. It feels like every little moment in your life is huge!“ -  ”Sonic, I’m going to save you.“ - Sonic 06

“No matter the package, you’re still my Sonic, Sonic!"  - “That won’t happen! There’s no way Sonic will let it end like this!” - Sonic Unleashed

You save the lines that mean the most to the character of the HEART, and you can learn a lot about a character’s heart through their words.

I would love for our Blue Hedgehog to continue to learn about love through this spirited, cheerful, and canonally described “pretty” Pink Hedgehog!

Sorry, I could quote Amy for so long haha! That’s all for now, too long of a rant!

[professorjaskier]

Thriller Night (And Other Happenings at the 21st Amendment): Chapter 2

Hi guys! I just posted the final chapter of my Lamden side-quest from my huge project. 

TW: There is touching and talk of sex, but nothing really happens and everything is consensual

Here is Chapter 2! Chapter 1 is right here. Enjoy!

As Aiden made his way across the floor he kept rising to the balls of his feet to catch a glimpse of fiery red hair. When he failed to stretch high enough to look above the sea of people he cursed his bad genes and short stature. Normally, he was alright with not being the tallest person in the room, but right now he needed to find Lambert. There was a good chance that he would be sitting at Geralt’s usual table, hidden in the most reclusive corner of the bar, but what if he wasn’t there? With a final burst of energy, Aiden slipped through the crowd, all the while hoping that he was choosing the right direction.

When he emerged out of the fray, his head turned towards the table where he expected to find his boyfriend. He wasn’t disappointed, his eyes landing on Lambert’s strong back, still dressed as Ron Weasley in muggle garb. The tension that had entered his body with Geralt’s ambiguous words lessened the moment he saw Lambert. He looked physically fine, if not bored, as he tapped his makeshift wand against an empty glass sitting on his table.

A smile curled on his lips as he walked up behind the red head and nuzzled his nose into the crook of his neck. “Hey, babe,” he murmured into Lambert’s ear.

He felt Lambert momentarily tense in his arms before melting into the touch. Aiden shifted slightly to press a chaste kiss into the unruly red curls he loved, reveling in the familiar feeling of Lambert in his arms. Everything felt perfect until Lambert finally spoke. “Hello, Aiden.”

Aiden froze at the tone Lambert’s voice had taken, momentarily pulling away from the embrace. Though his words were deceptively nonchalant, the way that he’d said them set Aiden on edge. It reminded Aiden of how he’d regarded him when they’d first met; skittish and unsociable, as though he were scared to let anyone close. That and the use of his birth name in lieu of a nickname demonstrated that something was wrong. Maybe Geralt was right to sound so foreboding.

Aiden immediately rounded the booth and scooted in next to the red-head. Lambert moved further in to make room, but it was painfully obvious that he was avoiding eye contact. “Lambert? Babe, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“You did nothing,” he evenly replied, once again tapping his wand against the glass to the beat of the music.

Aiden raised a challenging eyebrow at the obvious lie, but Lambert still refused to look in his direction. “Well I’ve obviously done something to piss you off.” He sighed in frustration when Lambert’s sole answer was shrugging his shoulder. “Is it because I can’t spend Halloween with you? I know it’s your favorite holiday, but it’s one of our busiest nights, I can’t just leave my staff—”

“It’s not that,” Lambert interrupted, dragging a hand down his face in consternation. Aiden fell silent, waiting for Lambert to continue. He knew that his boyfriend occasionally had difficulty voicing his emotions, but if given time they would usually come spilling out. It was a hard-learned lesson, but Aiden could hear his mother’s voice softly saying “Patience is a virtue, mijo .” Pulling on that piece of knowledge, he stayed seated and waited.

A minute passed before Lambert looked up and scanned the room. “Where the fuck is Geralt? That asshole should be back with our drinks already.” He punctuated his unexpected outburst by grabbing a glass and sipping at the dregs.

Aiden knew exactly what was happening. Lambert was trying to distract him from the conversation at hand. Sometimes he would try to misdirect a conversation if the topic scared him, going to extreme lengths to avoid unpleasant displays of emotion. Unfortunately for him, his tactic would not be working tonight. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Aiden responded. “He ran into Jaskier. Literally. Also, I didn’t know that they knew each other!”

Lambert whipped his head to pin him with a look of confusion and something else he couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it concerned him enough to take hold of the large, coarse hand laying on the table. “You know Jaskier?” he asked, a tinge of desperation tinting his gruff voice.

“Um kinda,” Aiden replied, puzzled by Lambert's sudden interest in Jaskier. “I met him tonight. He’s one of Priscilla’s best friends.”

Lambert blinked in surprise, processing the information before he shrugged. “Makes sense. Everyone seems to like Jaskier.”

A layer of tension had descended on the table, a tension that Aiden was clueless to understand. “Do you know Jaskier?” he asked, trying to puzzle out Lambert’s odd reactions.

Instead of looking at him, Lambert started to poke a knot in the wooden table with his wand. “He’s the pretty boy that Geralt’s been working out with.”

Suddenly, a few parts of the puzzle came together even though the rest was still unclear. It was like doing a rubix cube and getting all of one color sorted, but still having disorder on every other side. Lambert had mentioned Geralt’s new colleague and work out buddy, insinuating that Geralt felt more for the other man than feelings of friendship. That would certainly explain the strong connection he’d sensed when serving the two men at the bar.

“In that case, your brother will need some alone time with Jaskier and I need some time alone with you. Follow me.” Standing up, he kept the grasp on Lambert’s hand firm, but loose enough that he could break away if he wished. There was a moment where Aiden was certain he would refuse to follow, but Lambert eventually grumbled and stood up. After taking hold of his jacket, Lambert nodded and Aiden started the arduous path to his office.

Though the crowd had not thinned in the few minutes they’d been seated, it seemed easier to navigate the throngs of people with Lambert by his side. Maybe it was because he always felt a bit more grounded with Lambert by his side. Or maybe it was because his boyfriend was built like a fucking tree. Aiden smirked at the skeptical edge that tended to leak into his thoughts, thinking of how Lambert would laugh at the bluntness of his words.

As they approached the office, he leaned closer to Lambert and said, “Stay here! I need to leave instructions with the bar.” Waiting until he received a nod in response, he pushed his way towards the till and grabbed the attention of Stacy, the most competent member of his staff. “Stacy,” he shouted over the music, beckoning her over.

She caught his eye and politely told her customers that she’d be right back. At least he hoped she was polite about it. As she made her way over, she raised an eyebrow, “What is it?”

Aiden smirked at the annoyance leaking into her voice. “You do realize I’m the boss here, right?” he asked, enjoying the sassy glare she shot him in response. “Right, make sure Geralt and Jaskier’s drinks stay filled.”

She looked intrigued by the request and peered over the crowd to find Geralt. Aiden tried to pretend that he wasn’t miffed that she could look over the crowd when he couldn’t. She finally looked back at him with a playful grin. “Jaskier, the pretty boy who’s sitting next to him? They fucking?” Stacy asked.

Aiden chuckled at her bold question. “Yeah, that’s him and that is none of our business. It’s on the house, okay?” He winked at her and laughed at the pout that found itself on her lips. “Also, tell no one to disturb me unless the world is ending.”

The tell-tale smirk returned and he knew that the next words out of her mouth would have her fired at any other establishment. “At least someone from that family is getting fucked,” she evenly replied.

Aiden playfully gasped before turning back to see Lambert leaning against his office door, completely oblivious to the raunchy conversation taking place a few feet away. “You are a menace and you’re lucky that I keep you around.”

She scoffed and threw a bar towel at him. “Bullshit. Now go have fun.”

He rolled his eyes at her insolence, but turned towards his office. Stacy was a handful, but there was no one better at making cocktails. She was also the only one of his employees who had the balls to speak to him like that. As long as she kept on making good jokes and even better cocktails, she would be employed at his bar.

He arrived at the door and reached around Lambert’s waist to unlock the door. Lambert didn’t move, instead methodically gazing the crowd surrounding them, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. His attention was easily garnered with a tap on his shoulder and he promptly stepped into the office. Aiden immediately shut the door and turned the lock, ensuring that their conversation would not be disturbed.

His office was nothing to crow about, but Aiden thought that it was comfortable enough to serve its purpose. A wooden desk stood in the furthest corner, piled high under invoices and other practical matters he had to deal with later that week. A couch stood on the other side of the room, obviously well-used, but in relatively good condition. On nights when he did not have the energy to make it home, the couch became his makeshift bed. Lambert was currently seated on that couch, glaring daggers at him.

“Lamb, I can’t fix whatever is bothering you if you just keep on glaring at me. I’m not a mindreader.” He sauntered over to the couch and planted his knees on either side of Lambert’s thick thighs, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders he dreamt of each night. “Please,” he pleaded.

Lambert let out a sharp puff of air through his nose, shaking his head incredulously. “It doesn’t matter. I’m overreacting, just being an asshole.”

Aiden frowned at the self-deprecating words and shook his head vehemently. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

Lambert pursed his lips, seemingly to keep his bubbling feelings within, but soon enough he reached his boiling point. With a final grunt of annoyance, Lambert said, “If you want to see someone else, you shouldn’t let my ugly mug hold you back. You should go for it.”

Aiden jolted back, shocked and a little bit pissed at the casual tone with which Lambert said those words. Almost as though he were discussing the weather. “What the fuck?” he asked, pushing himself off of the couch. He needed to move or he wouldn’t be able to process this.

The broader man leaned forward and rested his head on his hands, affecting a nonchalant posture. “I saw the way that you were looking at Jaskier. He’s pretty, I get it. You might have to fight Geralt to have your chance, but—”

Aiden couldn’t take anymore of the shit his boyfriend was spewing and cut him off. “No! What the fuck, Lamb? I don’t want to leave you, you know I love you!”

With a growl, Lambert stood up with clenched fists and glistening eyes. “I saw how you were looking at Jaskier tonight! It was the way that you look at me. You always flirt with people, but—” he paused, looking at the floor as he gathered the words. “You never look at them like that.”

Aiden moved towards Lambert slowly, as though he were a spooked animal ready to bolt. The comparison was not too different, with the way Lambert kept glancing towards the door with barely suppressed panic in his eyes. “Lamb, have I ever left you before? Even before we were together, have I ever left you when you needed me?”

Lambert’s eyes shot back towards him, piercing him through with the intensity of his gaze. After a momentary silence, he murmured, “No. No you haven’t.”

The bass of the music shook the walls around them, breaking the tension of the following quiet. Aiden nodded at the simple words and continued to walk towards him. “And have I ever given you reason to doubt me?”

Lambert shook his head once more. Although he still looked tense, Aiden thought that he looked less likely to run out of the room. That was a good thing because his boyfriend was deceptively faster than his muscular build would imply. If Lambert tried to run, there was no way they would be finishing this conversation tonight.

Taking two more steps, he wrapped his arms around Lambert’s trim waist and placed his head on his broad chest. “So why would I do so now?”

Lambert frowned at the logic, but reciprocated the embrace, both of them standing in the small room. The moment was broken when they heard a whoop of excitement behind the door, indicating that some of the bar’s patrons were possibly drunker than advisable. Aiden chuckled and drew himself back to look at Lambert’s face, quickly pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose.

The taller man huffed in amusement at his antics, but let Aiden press kisses all over his face. Aiden eventually pulled away, but not before he took Lambert’s hand in his own. “Now what is this really about?”

“Maybe I was just being a prick. Wouldn’t be the first time,” Lambert insolently muttered under his breath. “It’s in my nature to be an asshole.”

“You can be an asshole,” Aiden easily agreed, “but you also have one of the kindest hearts I’ve ever seen.”

Lambert snorted at that. “Me? Kind? Are you sure you’re not talking about Eskel?”

Aiden watched Lambert’s reactions and immediately spotted the fear in his eyes. Why would he be afraid? None of this made any sense. “Yes you. I’ve met so many shitty people in my life, and I can tell you honestly that you’re one of the best.”

A look of conclusion passed over Lambert’s face. “The best shitty person?”

Aiden playfully swatted him on his shoulder. “No! The best person in general, Asshole!”

“Ah, but I’m still an asshole,” he answered, but the usual teasing tone in his voice had taken a wistful edge.

“There’s nothing wrong with being an asshole. I’m also an asshole, you know that,” Aiden responded, still uncertain what had caused this slight rift to form so quickly.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. “Jaskier isn’t an asshole.”

It was said so quietly that Aiden had almost missed it over the pounding bass. When he looked up, he saw a vulnerable expression pass over Lambert’s face before his boyfriend turned away.

Aiden grabbed his wrist gently, trying to lead Lambert back to him. With a grunt of frustration Lambert did his bidding, easily returning to his side. “This isn’t really about Jaskier, is it?”

Clenching his jaw, Lambert shook his head.

“Okay, that’s a good start. Is it because I thought Jaskier was attractive?”

“He is attractive,” Lambert immediately replied. “He’s also very intelligent and writes music. You like music. You’d have a lot in common.”

Suddenly it all clicked into place. “Lambert, there is no one who knows me better than you. You’ve seen me at my worst, you’ve seen me go absolutely feral, and yet you still love me. You are the only person I have ever wanted to keep in my life for more than a few nights. You are perfect to me, even though you are an asshole. Do you understand me?”

Lambert stood there in silence, but Aiden knew that he had gotten through to him. The creases in the corners of his eyes had lessened, leaving behind the fine lines that usually resided there. “Are you sure? I know that you’ve never been one for settling down and I wouldn’t want—”

He couldn’t bare to listen to another self-deprecating word come out of that wonderful man’s mouth. In an act of pure desperation and love, he leaned forward and poured all of his passion into a searing kiss. Lambert staggered back in shock, unsuspecting of Aiden’s advances, but soon returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm. They both fought for dominance, tongues pushing into each other’s mouths until Aiden finally broke off for air.

Lambert stared at him with a flushed face, momentarily speechless until he gathered his wits once more. “You can’t just make out with me every time I’m upset with you, Kitten.” He crossed his arms, painting the perfect picture of an upset toddler. The only thing missing was a stamped foot or a pouty face.

“I know,” he finally responded. “I just needed to find a way to make you stop spewing bullshit and I knew that method was tried and true.” Aiden planted another kiss on Lambert’s chapped lips and then dragged his now pliant body to the couch. Once they were seated he clasped larger, calloused hands in his own. Hands that he knew better than his own. “Now that you’ve calmed down a little, let me tell you what I have to say to all of that nonsense.” He saw Lambert duck his head, blushing with a combination of exertion and embarrassment, but he continued on. They needed to have this conversation. “I love you. That will not stop me from appreciating beautiful people, but appreciation doesn’t have to be physical. The only person I am physically appreciating nowadays is you.”

“Maybe you should stick to business, Casanova, because your poetry isn’t exactly Shakespeare.”

Aiden pretended to frown at the sassy comment, but shook his head in amusement. “And you can do much better? If I remember correctly, you asked me out by accidentally complimenting my ass.”

Lambert laid himself down on the couch, lowering Aiden on top of him so they were pressed flush to one another. “Wasn’t an accident. Your ass is magnificent.” He punctuated his statement by actually squeezing his ass, causing Aiden to gasp out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

“Fair.” Aiden smiled and ducked down to press another kiss to Lambert’s forehead. “But the point to all of this is that I won’t be leaving you anytime soon. Do I find other people attractive? Of course I do, I’m in a monogamous relationship, not dead.”

“Thanks, babe,” Lambert muttered, retaliating by working his teeth over the pulse point on his lover’s neck.

Aiden was momentarily breathless and dazed, but he soon choked out, “You didn’t let me finish. Stop distracting me.” Pushing away Lambert’s wandering hands, he regained his focus and continued his unplanned speech. “Anyways, what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—” he paused to shoot Lambert a meaningful look, but was met with an innocent expression. Rolling his eyes, he said, “—was that I might think other people are attractive, but I love you for more than your looks and I would never jeopardize our love or our friendship for a one night stand. No matter how beautiful the person.”

As he concluded his declaration, he noticed that Lambert’s eyes were looking redder than usual. “Don’t worry, Lamb. You can cry if you want to. Guess my poetry isn’t that terrible after all.”

The soft expression was immediately replaced with a more common scowl. “Fuck you, you asshole.”

Aiden pretended to contemplate the words, scratching the stubble growing on his chin. “Hm, I guess I could fuck your asshole, especially since it’s your favorite holiday.”

Lambert’s mouth gaped in surprise, struck dumb momentarily before he burst into laughter. “God, you’re the worst,” he said before leaning forward for a kiss. Aiden smiled into it, savoring it until Lambert broke away. If he’d whimpered at the loss of contact, that secret was kept by the pounding bass and the conflicted glint in Lambert’s eyes “But I can’t leave Geralt by himself.”

Aiden snorted. “Please, let Geralt enjoy his night with Jaskier. If we’re lucky they’ll be engaged by the time we’ve gone a few rounds.” He let out a sharp chuckle, remembering the shirt he had left Geralt with. “That or Jaskier will get to admire the view.” He caught a glimpse of Lambert’s head, tilted to the side, asking a silent question. “Let’s just say that Geralt might have had a costume change into something much skimpier. Honestly, Jaskier should send me a fruit basket.”

Aiden turned to face Lambert, curious to see his reaction. Upon making eye contact they burst into laughter, clinging to one another as though they were the only things tethering each other to the Earth.

“Happy Halloween, Kitten,” Lambert muttered

“Happy Halloween, Lamb,” Aiden replied, throwing Lambert’s wand to the side. “Now let’s make some magic.”

[anncanta]

Natural obligations

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Read on AO3

Or read below

Nuns always have a lot of work. This is part of obedience and the normal routine of the monastery, apart from the fact that physical labor helps to focus and pacify the spirit.

Agatha never particularly liked physical labor. She had enough lessons in the laboratory, after which on some days in the evening she was completely exhausted. Still, rules are rules, and at least three times a week she had to help in the kitchen, fetch water, or weed beet beds.

Perhaps that is why a long sleep on a wide and soft, albeit unfamiliar bed seemed to her more a blessing than a cause for alarm.

Until once again slipping out of the delightful slumber, Agatha remembered that there were no such beds in the monastery, and in spacious rooms with walls of rough stone, like the one in which the bed was, the sisters kept cheese.

Agatha sat up jerkily in bed and stared in front of her.

‘Can't sleep?’ Sharply turning her head, she almost buried her nose in the one sitting next to her.

‘What are you doing here?’ Agatha asked from dark, attentive eyes studying her. She tried to concentrate, but consciousness seemed to... splash inside her head, unyielding and nimble, like a slippery fish.

‘I’m here in some way at home,’ Dracula replied calmly. ‘What do you remember?’ he said curiously.

Agatha frowned.

‘The monastery. And prayer. You appeared during a common prayer. I remember Jonathan... Mina... Mina let him in. And the wolves. Yes, I remember wolves.’ She paused, not entirely sure that she had correctly reconstructed the events – or their sequence. ‘And then you said... You promised that I…’

She looked up at him thoughtfully.

‘You took me out of there,’ she stated grimly. ‘It seemed to you not enough to drink me without a trace, and you took me…’

‘...so to speak, in the flesh,’ Dracula nodded in agreement. ‘Don't you like it here?’ He added, sweeping around the room with a gesture.

She didn't answer. Glancing around again, she looked at Dracula. He was sitting so close that she could see the fine lines on his pale face.

‘What do you want?’ Agatha asked.

Dracula shrugged vaguely.

‘Talk.’

...

The bed was incredibly comfortable after all. Over the years she lived in the monastery, Agatha managed to forget about such luxury. She slept comfortably as if plunged into a thick sea of clouds – and she dreamed of clouds. Huge, white, embracing with fluffy waves. Occasionally unfamiliar shadows flickered behind them and voices were heard. But more often in the middle of a dream, Dracula suddenly appeared, and the desire to sleep went somewhere in the background. This was not so much surprising as it raised questions, as well as the fact that, no matter how hard she tried, Agatha could not remember to see at least once where he actually came from.

‘Why do I never see you walk through the door?’ she once asked the Count. ‘I think you are giving me some herbs… Maybe opiates,’ she suggested. ‘But I’m not sleeping anymore when you come. Or rather…’ she paused, feeling that she was confused. Looking at Dracula, she added angrily: ‘You don’t turn into a fog, in fact.’

Dracula smiled at her with that tinge of secular courtesy, which, as she had time to learn, meant that she should not wait for an answer, and Agatha, with a sigh, spoke of something else.

In this, however, there was nothing new – many times Agatha tried, directly or by hints, to find out from him where she was, what was happening, and what she should expect from him – all in vain. Dracula did not react at all, or he gave out something mocking – so much that it became clear that the topic touched upon by Agatha was taboo.

And, it seems, – the only one.

On the first evening after her... awakening, Dracula said he wanted to talk – and they talked. A lot – about books, music, about people and their habits, about what happened in the world before and what is happening now. They gossiped like seasoned gossips and conducted scientific debates, compared impressions of what they read, and discussed how life had changed.

Agatha was never silent, and conversations, moreover, helped her to organize her thoughts and understand herself better. If she lacked something in the monastery, then the interlocutor who could hear, answer, challenge her judgment, or confirm it.

The sisters were not her helpers here – they were kind and caring, treating each other... well, treating each other like sisters, they preferred prayers to disputes and discussions – even if it was about Holy Scripture. So Agatha was desperately bored with them.

Dracula was a demanding and stubborn conversationalist. Smart, attentive, keen, and passionate. He never interrupted and listened to the end of everything she said, thoughtfully studying, looking at it for a long time – and returning it back, sometimes deployed in a completely different angle, and it was... yes, it was exciting, she admitted.

On his next visit, Agatha woke up from a gaze.

Sighing, she turned onto her back.

‘How much time has passed? Since you brought me here.’

‘Three and a half weeks.’

Agatha nodded.

‘Aren't you afraid to make me getting sick of you?’ she asked in a surge of unexpected insolence.

She asked – and immediately regretted it. But the anger did not fall on her, as did the resentment and anger. He laughed.

‘Agatha,’ he said, leaning over and looking into her eyes. ‘How... predictable? you are. How naive in your fierce intransigence. You are so confident in yourself – and in the fact that this intransigence protects you from the manifestations of ‘sinful weakness’. Such as, for example, the ability to feel something for me besides... um... righteous anger. Your tenacity and resilience are truly amazing.’ He paused, smiling. ‘But if I wanted, do not hesitate... yes, if I wanted, I would make you... scream.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Agatha said grumpily. She sat up and shifted, making herself comfortable. The pillows spread to the sides and flattened, becoming thin and hard. ‘On the contrary, I find it strange that you took so long...’ she trailed off, choosing the word, ‘for so long delayed with this.’

She bent down to straighten a naughty pillow, and a lock of hair fell over her eyes. Removing them, Agatha looked at Dracula.

He stared at her intently and steadily.

‘Not in that sense.’

The words sounded soft, but something in them made her flinch and – for some reason – to touch the blanket with which Agatha was covered to the waist.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked in a secular tone.

Dracula leaned back, leaning against the low table by the bed. On the table was a glass filled to the brim with wine. Agatha didn’t remember this table had been here before. However, she was not too interested in the furnishings of the room.

‘Have you forgotten in your monastery why they scream in bed?’

‘We don't have much time in our monastery for idle reflections,’ snapped Agatha. ‘Are you serious?’ she did not believe.

‘Quite serious,’ he smiled.

Agatha was silent for a while.

‘Do you really think...’

‘I don’t think so, Agatha, I’m sure.’

She sat for a minute in confusion.

Anger came to the rescue.

‘You will never be able to!’

‘Let's check it?’

What is wrong in this room, Agatha thought. A window would be... Or two. She shifted.

‘Not worth it. I do not participate in disputes about... axioms.’

Now he smiled with the expression that Agatha remembered from their first meeting at the gate of the monastery.

Delight. Disbelief in his luck. Joy.

And in exactly the same gesture as then, he threw back his head and ran his fingers from the corners of his mouth to his chin.

‘Agatha, do you think that for three hundred and eighty-six of my sexually mature years there are secrets of women's pleasures that are unknown to me?’

Agatha chased away the memory.

‘I'm not talking about the secrets of women's pleasures,’ she winced. ‘Your aristocrat's bag, full of information about ladies' charms, has nothing to do with it. It will not help,’ Agatha said condescendingly, ‘in the area where it is a question of a body subject to a higher authority.’

‘Divine?’

‘No. The power of reason.’

He laughed.

‘You are a heretic, Agatha. A century ago, you would have ended your life in the square, and respectable ladies dressed in caps like you would have thrown logs into your fire.’

Agatha snorted.

‘Go away from the topic?’

‘No way,’ Dracula assured. ‘Bet?’ asked after a second.

‘Terms?’

He burst out laughing again.

‘Agatha, I see you are seriously bored. I will not forgive myself for this. The terms...’ noticing her angry look, he continued. A thoughtful expression returned to his eyes. ‘The terms. Let's say this: you allow you to be touched – as I want and as much as I consider... sufficient to prove the theorem, about which we argued. You are completely free in your reactions: growl and hiss, whisper, shower me with the last words. Moan – as loudly as you like. You can't scream.’

‘Moan?’ Agatha squinted. ‘Are you so arrogant?’

He chuckled.

‘I give you a chance.’

Agatha looked at him for a minute.

‘Fine,’ she said slowly. ‘Excellent, accepted. And here are my conditions: you do everything you can to make me scream with pleasure, and if you do not succeed... three times, you lose.’

Dracula raised an eyebrow.

‘Three times? Three times, Agatha?’

‘I give you a chance.’

‘I agree,’ his smile became so soft and sly that Agatha felt a desire to immediately cancel everything.’

‘What will you put?’

She thought about it. And really, what? How can a prisoner pay for a loss? Besides her own humiliation, of course, she thought with annoyance.

‘And you?’ Agatha always found it easier to attack than defense.

He pretended not to notice the pause.

‘I'll let you go,’ he said. ‘If you can’t scream even once, I’ll let you go. And I will fulfill any of your wishes. Of those that I can do, of course,’ he added mockingly.

Agatha frowned in disbelief.

‘Really?’ asked.

‘I give you my word.’

‘Okay.’ She rubbed her forehead absently. ‘What if...’

‘And if I win, then you will go with me to London. Openly, in full view, and voluntarily.’

‘Why do you need me in London?’

Dracula smiled.

‘Don't specify,’ Agatha said. ‘I won't need it. You won't win.’

‘We'll see,’ he is not threatening, she noticed. And doesn't scaring her. He just states.

She took a breath.

‘Well, good. Agree. You win – I will go with you. But that does not mean that I will stop trying to frustrate your... plans.’

‘In no case,’ the corners of Dracula's lips twitched slightly.

Agatha nodded.

‘Then... Since we agreed... on the rules... and on the terms...’ she hesitated. ‘When do you propose?..’

‘Now.’

Agatha stirred and adjusted the pillows again. Now they seemed too soft. She literally felt herself drowning in them.

‘Now?’ she asked politely. It won't do that way, she thought. She must look at him.

Dracula's eyes were completely blank.

‘Do you have any objections?’ he asked.

‘No, not the slightest.’ Tugging at the edge of the blanket, Agatha absentmindedly stroked it.

From the other side, a man's hand lay on the snow-white fabric.

Throwing back the covers in one motion, Dracula bent down, touching the long monk's skirt.

Agatha's gaze darted to his palm, which was lost in the blue folds. She did not feel it through the clothes, she only saw how it adheres to the fabric, completely, with the entire surface.

‘Tell me, have you done this before?’ now the voice of Dracula sounded very close.

‘What?’ Agatha asked, shuddering.

‘Have you ever done this before?’ repeated Dracula; his hand was still resting serenely on the crumpled skirt.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Interesting.’

‘I’m a nun,’ Agatha said dryly.

‘I remember,’ the hand came to life and grabbed the tight hem, lifting it. ‘But you had a life before the monastery?’ Dracula looked into her eyes. ‘Heart dramas, suitors?’

Agatha shook her head.

‘Me... I was the youngest daughter,’ she said. ‘The fourth after three brothers. And no dowry.’

‘There was only one way – to the monastery,’ grasping the hem with both hands, Dracula pulled up her skirt to her knees. ‘At thirteen?’

‘At fourteen.’

He nodded.

‘Understand. Well, what about you yourself?’

Agatha stared at him blankly.

‘What... me myself?’

‘Agatha,’ he smiled. ‘Haven't you ever tried to find out what it feels like?’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘Didn't you touch yourself, didn't indulge in forbidden games? Haven`t you ever... tasted yourself?’

Agatha turned away in dismay. She remembered her conversation with Jonathan Harker. How stubbornly she asked him about everything! How persistently she sought an answer, wanting to know if he had... a special interaction with the Count. How she convinced poor Jonathan that there was nothing terrible in his desires for Mina left in London and in his fervent dreams.

‘I've never done that,’ she said dully. ‘Even in a dream. Never. I lied to him.’

‘Lied to whom?’ asked Dracula.

‘Jonathan.’ She lowered her head and looked at her legs sticking out from under her skirt.

‘Did you introduce yourself to him as the queen of lecherous women?’

Her indignant gaze met with such frankly cheerful that Agatha could not find anything to answer.

‘Do you think it will give an allowance to you?’

‘An allowance?’ she blinked.

‘Everything unfamiliar scares at first,’ Dracula bowed his head. ‘You certainly won't be able to win an argument, but fear will allow you to hold out for a while and not give up victory in the first battle.’

Having said this, he ran his fingers of both hands over Agatha's thighs, spreading her legs – unceremoniously and quickly.

The first touch pretended a tickling – a quick, almost fleeting, and high – just beyond the edge of the trembling belly. Fingers went over the hollows of the triangle connecting the thighs, leisurely stroking one, the other, covered it entirely.

Pressing her back into the pillow, Agatha instinctively closed her legs – and groaned with pleasure that stitched her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dracula smiled – and moved his palm, pressing the base on...

‘Jesus,’ Agatha whispered.

Releasing his hand, Dracula once again ran it over Agatha's stomach from top to bottom, and, playing with the curls of hair in a secluded place, again – with his fingers – repeated the movement that shocked her so much.

‘It’s not forbidden to hiss, or growl, or emit lecherous moans,’ he reminded, leaning over to her ear. Gently stroking her with his thumb, with the middle finger he penetrated where it was humid and cramped, and immediately slipped out, leaving Agatha to shudder and breathe heavily.

‘You will come with me to London, Agatha,’ he said, lightly running over the open petals. ‘The bet was concluded without witnesses, and I, of course, will not claim the winnings in court,’ touching the above, he continued, accompanied by her sharp sigh. His fingers moved gently, and faster and faster. ‘If I am not mistaken, this is called ‘natural obligations’. Nobody will punish you for breaking them. But since the days of Ancient Rome, it has been known that arguing with natural obligations is like denying the very nature of things.’

He touched her again, softly and affectionately, and, trembling, Agatha with a powerless groan buried in his shoulder.

‘I win,’ after a couple of moments she breathed out barely audibly.

‘Oh dear,’ Dracula whispered. ‘This is just the first time.’

***

The dream turned into clear water. Crystal, a little prickly, light, and cool. Washing the boundaries of consciousness and completely filling it. Agatha tried to catch memories floating in the water, scattering to the sides and escaping like the wreckage of a raft or a sunken ship. Memories, thoughts, and feelings, about which, not just to the amazed Jonathan, she would not dare to tell the Mother Superior even.

‘And completely in vain,’ she opened her eyes and looked at Dracula looking at her. ‘You were talking in your sleep,’ he added, sinking to the edge of the bed. ‘Memories are worth sharing. Why else are they needed?’

‘Memories of defeat make the armies lose heart,’ Agatha muttered. She tilted her head, listening to herself. ‘What did you give do me after all... Henbane or mint decoction?’

‘Stop guessing,’ smiled Dracula. ‘You cannot solve this problem by enumerating options. Look for other ways.’

Agatha nodded.

‘I will certainly find it. You've been gone for a long time,’ she said, after a pause. And she immediately added in response to his questioning look: ‘In my position, it is difficult to keep track of time, but I tend to believe my feelings. And they say you haven't shown up for days.’

‘I thought you would want to rest,’ Dracula chuckled. ‘I'm glad I was wrong,’ he said, walking his hand over the blanket, and suddenly turning around, climbed onto her bed.

Sitting on the bed, he was directly opposite Agatha, and for a while silently looked at her.

‘You have changed,’ he said quietly. ‘You have changed so much since you came here.’

Agatha straightened and lifted her chin.

‘Winning the first round does not mean winning the game.’

‘Did I talk about what happened at our last meeting?’ Dracula was surprised.

‘Didn`t you?’

He turned around again and, stretching his legs forward, sat down next to Agatha, leaning back on the pillows.

‘Some victories only inflame... the imagination,’ he said, looking in front of him, smiling. ‘Aren`t they?’

‘How do I know?’ snapped Agatha. Turning away from Dracula, she stared at her hand on top of the blanket. Her knuckles twitched. ‘I can only...’

She didn’t finish. Dracula grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, placing her between his own legs and forcing her to lean back on him.

‘Okay, what do you want?’ whispered in her ear.

Agatha tried to push, but he just pressed closer.

‘I’m all at your disposal,’ Dracula purred, almost touching her auricle with his lips.

Agatha shuddered.

‘I can't... I can't say it,’ she said. ‘I...’

A quiet laugh made her grimace.

‘I didn't mean...’ Agatha muttered, realizing that she had betrayed herself.

‘You're curious,’ he laughed again. ‘And you love experiments too much to miss the opportunity to learn something new.’

‘Even if this is some kind of lewdness?’ Agatha snorted.

‘Why not?’ He ran his hand over her thigh and suddenly bent her leg and pulled it aside. ‘I suggested you set the conditions for the experiment,’ he said, penetrating under her skirt with his other hand, ‘so go ahead.’

His hand touched the hot skin, stroked the inner side of her thigh. Agatha groaned softly. In response, he wiggled his fingers, but instead of touching her where it was most desirable, he grabbed her bent leg and pulled gently, forcing her to open up more.

Leaning back, Agatha groaned loudly.

‘Where should I touch you?’ asked the persistent lips that tormented her ear.

Agatha shook her head.

‘I do not...’

‘Tell me,’ the rapid pulse in her temples seemed like a drumbeat, ‘tell me this out loud.’

Agatha shivered.

‘I want… I want… down,’ she whispered, feeling her cheeks flush. ‘Down... longer. And then...’

‘Then?’ touching her with a finger, he fulfills the request. Agatha breathes fast.

‘Then a little higher...’ another one joins the first finger, they caress her slowly and – oh, quite a bit – harder than last time. Agatha groans, gasping for breath. ‘Slightly higher...’ she asks ‘...higher. Above. Faster... And further... to the end.’

With the last words, choking on the exhale, she realizes that she won only because the pleasure was too strong.

***

When he appeared again, Agatha was awake.

‘You look tired,’ she said, watching him settle into the bed with the same calm casualness.

‘A lot of important things to do,’ Dracula replied absently.

Agatha ran her hand over the blanket.

‘I thought you’re not coming again,’ she said.

‘Why?’

She examined the folds of the graceful canopy.

‘I don`t know. To me...’

‘Was I with you unnecessarily...’

‘...modest,’ Agatha finished, smiling at the mocking sparkle in his eyes. ‘Of course not,’ she added in response to an unasked question. ‘I was just thinking... But no, it doesn't matter.’

Agatha turned away and fell silent.

They sat like that for a long time, and the further, the more awkward the silence became.

‘Agatha,’ Dracula said finally. Agatha shuddered and looked at him. ‘Agatha, I think I should...’

His face seemed tense and unusually determined.

‘Agatha, you...’

‘We haven't finished the game.’

She herself did not know what made her say this. She looked at Dracula, looking at her with a mixture of doubt and surprise. Without looking, felt the blanket, she threw it back – calmly and without challenge.

‘Okay,’ Dracula said and repeated as if waking up from a dream. ‘Okay.’

He sat a little longer in his place, and then, climbing onto the bed, moved closer to Agatha and reached for her skirt.

Agatha pulled back.

‘We haven't finished the game,’ she said again, looking Dracula in the eye. ‘And I want to reach the end.’ With that, she unbuttoned her collar and pulled the dress from her shoulders.

Dracula looked at her closely.

‘You’ll lose,’ he said quietly.

‘I know.’

...

The echo was long, rolling, and sweet.

‘If they could hear you, they would come and grab you as the main culprit of all problems and troublemaker.’

Agatha smiled.

‘Fortunately, they can't.’

Dracula raised an eyebrow.

‘Who can't?’

‘Oh, for God's sake,’ Agatha snorted.

They were silent for a second, looking at each other.

‘How long?..’ he asked carefully.

Agatha narrowed her eyes as she considered.

‘I think that... yes, perhaps. I think it was when you offered me... all this. The glass,’ seeing that he does not understand, she added. ‘The glass on... yes, on the table. I remembered that you don't drink wine.’

‘And you were not scared?’ He raised himself and ran his hand along her neck as if wanting to hear her pulse beating.

‘Of course, I was scared!’ Agatha responded indignantly. ‘You eat people!’

‘Actually, I don`t.’

Agatha looked incredulous.

‘And what, for a long time?’ she said.

‘Since we bet.’

She frowned.

‘But how are you then...’

‘Seagulls. Large fish. There was an albatross two days ago.’

She was silent for several minutes.

‘I was going to…’ she said slowly. ‘My winnings. I was going to ask you...’

‘I guessed.’

She tried to hold on. She did her best. But that was beyond her strength.

‘So, to London?’ she asked, finished laughing.

He smiled.

‘So, to London.’

[britbritwrites]

Dr. Robotnik’s teenage daughter asking if she can go on a date

-When Robotnik’s daughter first asked him could she go on a date with some guy at school who asked her out, he had A LOT of feelings about it

-And they weren’t positive ones at that

-“Please, Dad? Just one-”

-“NOPE! End of story!”

-“But-”

-“NO!”

-“But Dad, I just-”

-“No! No and what was the word again? Oh yeah! NO! No daughter of mine will ever go on such a thing!”

-He knew something like this will happen eventually because it was part of growing up

-However, he didn’t know that he wasn’t gonna be ready for it to happen with his daughter

-It all happened in front of his very eyes so fast

-One day, he was changing her diapers, teaching her how to walk and say her first word

-(He really tried to get her to say extraordinary, a long word, as her first word. Surprising? I think not!)

-Next thing he knows, she’s blossoming into a beautiful young woman and asking about going out on dates.  

-All in honesty, it scared him a bit

-Scratch that, It scared him A LOT

-ALSO…...

-What if the guy just ends up standing her up?

-Or what if he tries something wildly inappropriate with her during that date?

-He’d have to go after the little douchebag and let his drones teach him a lesson if any of those ever happened

-Another important thing, he didn’t like the idea of her going out with some boy that he’s never even met first of all

-She thought he could at least let her go out on her first date but here they were going back and forth on whether she could go or not

-“But why not though?? All my other friends are going dates, why can’t I?”

-“Because”

-“Because why?”

-“Because I said so! That’s why!”

-She rolls her eyes at that part

-She can’t stand when he says that, she just wished he would have just gave her a valid reason instead of just saying those 4 words, it would be easier for her to understand why wouldn’t let her do something like dating and whatever case may be

-“Dad! Please! You just HAVE to let me go this weekend!”

-“Give me one good reason why I should let you go?”

-“One good reason? Um first off, I’ve been staying out of trouble like you always told me I should, I have straight A’s…..

-(Unsurprisingly, his daughter has a IQ off the charts like her father)

-(Obviously a genetic thing, Robotnik is real proud that it’s passed down to his offspring)

-(Except unlike him, she isn’t all cocky about it at times nor does she ever brag about it, she’s actually like meh whatever)

-(She does get annoyed when her dad brags about how smart he is over and over again)

-(She’s like “Okay Dad! We get it! You’re smart as hell and have an IQ as high as the Eiffel tower, that’s great! Now what’s for dinner tonight?”)

-“......I’ve been helping around the lab like you ask me to sometimes, I never drank, I never smoked, I never did anything to make you disappointed in me. I don’t know, Dad, I think those are more than one good reason and I think they’re pretty valid”

-And she was right, he had to admit. She has been a very great student, have been staying out of trouble, doing good in school the whole time, and an overall great daughter anyone would ask for and there was no arguing or denying those facts.

-She crosses her arms and smiles with a raised eyebrow, “I’m right and you know it!”

-He glares at her and grumbles, not wanting to admit that she’s right.

-“So pleeeease can I go on that date this Saturday?”

-“I’m sorry but nothing, not even the amount of begging you will do can make me change my mind about- Oh no”

-But then she does the pleading face

-When she does the pleading face, she pokes out her bottom lip and makes her eyes look sad

-She KNOWS Robotnik could never say no to that face or even think about resisting it

-He tries to say a stern "NO” to her but TOO LATE!

-He just could never do it, tell her no when she makes that cutesy pleading face.

-“OKAY! OKAY! I give up! You can go on your little….. date!”

-She gasps with a huge happy grin on her face

-At that moment, she feels like jumping over the moon of happiness and joy

-“YOU MEAN IT!?”

-“Do I have to repeat it again? Y.E.S. YES! You may go”

-“OH MY GOSH! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”

-She jumps into his arms like a little kid and hugs him

-“OH THANK YOU so much! You are the best dad in the whole world! No WAIT! THE ENTIRE GALAXY!”

-Robotnik rolls his eyes and slightly grumbles, then smiles a little and pats her back

-He loves her hugs, it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, he just doesn’t wanna admit it sometimes

-He especially gets all warm inside when she praises him for being a great father to her

-Sometimes he gets a cocky about it too 

-“And I PROMISE I’ll be home by 8pm and you won’t be disappointed! We’re going to the movies this weekend and-”

-“AH! AH! Not so fast! Only one condition”

-“Which is?”

-“Before you go on this so called date, I would like to meet this boy first! I wouldn’t want you to go out with some hooligan who only wants you for one thing. That’s why I was hesitate for you to go in the first place”

-“Oooh! So that’s what this is about! You could have just told me that from the beginning.” She shook her head.

-She then sighs, “Look Dad, I get it, I understand, I know you were just trying to protect me and don’t want anything horrible to happen to me but I promise you he’s not like that, I’ve been talking to him for about 3 months and he’s a cool guy”

-“Hmm, well, I’ll be the judge of that when I meet this guy. Alright, you finally got my permission to go on this date and blah blah blah! now please get off my back! I have work to do”

-She chuckles and says, “Oh Dad, you and your work, you need to find some more hobbies to be completely honest, just saying”

-As he goes back into his chair to work on more of his plans, she walks up to him with a few more things to say to him

-“Oh and dad, before I go, can I tell you something?”

-He sighs and looks up at her, “What now?”

-She kisses him on the cheek and gives him another hug

-“I love you so much, Dad even though you can get on my nerves sometimes but thanks for doing this for me”

-He couldn’t help but smile back at her, hugging her back, “Love you too, pumpkin”

-“Dawww, You love me sooo much!”

-“Yeah yeah” He rolled his eyes, “Now run along, little girl! I have important work to attend to”

-“Hey! I’m not a little girl anymore, you know?” She giggled.

-He shrugged, “Meh, you’ll always be a little girl to me”

-She laughed and shook her head at her Dad before leaving his lab all happy and joyful

-Robotnik was sure he was probably not gonna like this boy she was going on a date with but you know what? all he knows is his daughter was happy and that was all that mattered. If she was happy, he was happy too

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 4

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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Adrien stood in front of the Gabriel building with a cup of coffee and a bag of freshly-baked goods in his hands at five in the morning, ready to deal with whatever the company’s directors entrusted him with before he was due at his teaching job. This was a terrible idea from the start but, as experience had already shown him, it was a much better choice to tackle the unknown and confusing tasks early in the day, rather than after handling a few classes filled with teenagers. So, filled with determination, Adrien opened the front door and stepped inside. The faster he got to his office, the sooner he’d be free to torture his students with a test on the dynamics of spinning tops before mercifully shifting the lesson into quantum physics territory.

Adrien greeted the security guards and swiftly ran up the stairs to the designers’ floor. Having almost reached his office at the end of the hallway, he paused, noticing a light coming from under one of the doors. Someone must have forgotten to turn it off before leaving the office yesterday. People here did tend to overwork. That someone was probably too tired to remember flicking the switch off and would most likely be scolded for that by their manager in a few hours. Without a second thought, Adrien headed for the door. He was already here; he could make someone’s day better by fixing their mistake before it was noticed. He didn’t expect to see anyone in the room, let alone a half-asleep Marinette who looked like she had just survived an apocalypse. Her name involuntarily escaped his lips. The look she gave him was unsettling.

“It’s five a.m.” Adrien braved. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Working. Can’t you tell?” Marinette answered, returning her attention to the garment in front of her.

He brushed away the thought of intervening and sending Marinette home to rest as soon as it sprung into his mind. If their previous encounters had taught him anything, it was that Marinette didn’t want his help. And frankly, no matter his intentions to help her, Adrien wasn’t and didn’t plan on becoming Marinette’s babysitter any time soon. He did secretly plan to find her a new job, but that would be it. She was a grown woman. Surely, she would go home when she’d had enough.

Still, looking at her, something tightened in his chest. Adrien glanced at the food in his hands and carefully walked into the room, placing his untouched cup of coffee along with his box of pastries in front of the exhausted woman. Marinette looked at him silently, nothing but malice lurking in her eyes; eyes that were once so kind to him.

“I think you need these more than I do,” he mumbled, half-expecting to hear ‘I don’t need anything from you’ in return. Strangely enough, Marinette said nothing. Not wanting to take his chances, Adrien silently walked out and closed the door behind him.

The following week, Adrien spotted Marinette a few times in the company’s hallways and by the looks of it, she felt none better, if not worse. Just yesterday, for example, he saw her leaning on the vending machine looking rather faint as she waited for a granola bar to fall out. All his attempts to start a conversation to get to the bottom of her exhaustion or to suggest she get some rest were either ignored or aggressively but politely shut down.

However, even more than Marinette’s less than stellar condition, it was a text message Adrien received that day that genuinely shocked him. He almost choked on air and dropped his cell phone when a name he’d never expected to see again popped up on his screen.

Nino: Adrien, I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, and I wouldn't blame you if you delete this and never reply, but I think an apology is long overdue. For whatever it's worth, Alya and I regret and apologize for not believing you all those years back. We've learned the hard way that you were right about what working for your father would do to Marinette, so we thought you at least deserve an apology, however late it is. I do realize there's no way to fix anything now, but I hope this would make it at least a little better.

Adrien would have been lying if he said he didn't want to delete the text immediately and forget it ever existed, but the events of the last week kept his cellphone screen lit, his thumb hovering over the virtual keyboard for quite some time yet never making contact. Soon, Adrien closed the app and pushed his cell phone to the side, only to pick it up five minutes later and reread the message. He shoved his phone into his bag. Five minutes later, Adrien was reading the cursed text again. An hour after that, he still couldn't let it go, neither reply nor ignore.

Damn it.

First of all, how did Nino get his new number? Second, why would he text him all of a sudden? There had to be a reason, one serious enough to force Nino to contact Adrien after years of silence. His former best friend didn't so much as send him condolences when his father passed away. Not that it mattered much because Adrien was neither on speaking terms with his father nor was he even able to attend the funeral himself. Instead, he had been stuck at the emergency room with an especially nasty case of food poisoning, wishing he’d stuck with his usual takeout instead of thinking he could cook for himself. Still, what prompted Nino to reach out now? What did he want? What happened and what did Adrien have to do with it?

The young man groaned, dropping his head on a table. He needed to focus on his work instead of trying to pinpoint the underlying reason of why exactly his former best friend suddenly felt the need to message him an apology. Because one thing was clear—this wasn’t just a random call of conscience, and as far he could surmise, it had everything to do with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Hey, kid.”

Too engrossed in his mental turmoil, Adrien didn’t even look at his little companion flying close. “What?”

“Want a snack?” Plagg plopped in front of him on the table. “Food makes everything better, and you look a bit too sour for my liking.”

Adrien didn't answer, watching the soft glow of the screen. Despite his better judgement, he was concerned about Marinette. That much he couldn't deny because the present state of that woman was neither normal nor healthy by any stretch of the imagination. They might not be friends anymore, but as a fellow human being, Adrien couldn’t help but be concerned. As the CEO of Gabriel, he couldn’t afford to have one of his employees kick the bucket due to overworking.

“I guess a snack it is, then,” sounded nearby, but Adrien was too distracted to pay attention. What if Marinette was in some kind of trouble dangerous enough for Nino to step over his pride and contact him? What was going on, and why the hell did he still care for what was happening to her? Why did he want to reply to that message? Why were memories of the four of them hanging out together back in the day flashing through his mind all of a sudden? Why hadn’t Adrien deleted the message yet? The message from a former best friend who had betrayed him when he needed him the most?

“Open wide,” Plagg shouted in his ear.

Adrien jerked up. “Pla—”

Something soft and smelly was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth.

“There.” Plagg rubbed his paws together. “You’ll feel better in no time, kid.”

Tears pooled in his eyes as the unmistakable taste and smell of Camembert attacked his every sense. Finding the nearest trash bin, Adrien spat the grossness out and glared at his kwami. “What’s wrong with you?! You know I hate your cheese.”

“What’s the matter?” Plagg grinned. “You look more alive already. Told ya you’d feel better!”

Adrien growled and flipped his phone screen down, dropping his head on the table and covering it with his hands.

A weak knock on the door a moment later forced him to sit back up.

“Come in,” Adrien called and stood up to greet the visitor.

A petite girl stepped into the room. She looked familiar, though he wasn’t sure how he knew her.

“M Agreste?” she asked shyly, walking to his table with a sheet of paper in her hands. “I am really sorry to bother you so late, but I wanted to give you this today.”

She put the paper on the table, and Adrien immediately knew what it was.

“You’re quitting?”

“I really am sorry, M Agreste,” the girl mumbled. “But I received a proposition from a different company, and given the circumstances, I’m inclined to accept it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Adrien smiled at her. “A new job is nothing to apologize for, especially with how things are currently going here. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, M Agreste.”

“Where were you working?” Adrien asked, curious as to where he remembered her from.

“I was Mlle Dupain-Cheng’s assistant,” the girl replied.

“Oh,” slipped from his lips as Adrien remembered. He had seen her trailing behind Marinette a few times, but always too focused on the physical ruin of the first, he barely noticed the other.

“Does she know you’re leaving?” he asked absentmindedly.

“No.”

Adrien frowned. “You didn’t inform your direct supervisor you were quitting?”

“Please, don't judge me,” the girl replied quietly, shying away with every word. “Not to be ungrateful or mean to Mlle Dupain-Cheng, but I was afraid to tell her. She isn't herself these days. She's more stressed and exhausted than ever, and me quitting would be a cherry on the top of her already huge pile. But, please, M Agerste, try to understand… I can't continue like this. It was either quitting or going insane alongside Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien froze. ‘Going insane’ was a strong choice of words, but unsurprisingly, he couldn’t find it within himself to disagree or object to that statement. Marinette did look the part these days… maybe not ‘going insane’ mentally, but ‘going insane’ with exhaustion and overworking, for sure. Was Marinette even sleeping? She definitely ate. He saw her grabbing that granola bar a day prior, so she must be eating at least something—

“I’ll go now,” the girl said, intruding in his thought process.

“Wait—” Adrien reached out, but stopped halfway. He promptly pulled his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck. Quickly glancing at the paper, he asked, “Mlle Ardoin, right? Do you know what happened? I mean, what pushed Mlle Dupain-Cheng to such extremes?”

The girl shook her head. Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment or two before she visibly gathered some courage and looked straight at him. “Can I tell you something in confidence?”

Adrien nodded.

“I suspect…” Mlle Ardoin paused, breathed in and then continued. “I know it sounds crazy, but I suspect that Mlle Dupain-Cheng doesn’t leave work at all.”

Adrien couldn’t help but frown in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“She’s always here,” the girl replied, clenching her hands together as she looked to the side. “I usually arrive before anyone else does, but Mlle Dupain-Cheng is already working. When we leave, she’s always staying behind to finish something. Last week she wore the same outfit for three days in a row, and then another one for the rest of the week. She’s never done that before. Her hair isn't styled as usual either; she just ties it in a sloppy ponytail which, again, she’s never done before. Mlle Dupain-Cheng used to always look impeccable. Now, she’s a mess. Last Thursday, I noticed a small bag with personal hygiene essentials, makeup, and some clothes. There’s also a small suitcase standing in the corner, behind one of the shelves. And judging by the sheer amount of work she manages to do when she stays behind, I can assume she stays up at least half the night, which leaves little time to go home, sleep, and come back before everyone else does.”

Adrien’s frown deepened with every word as he processed the information. It wasn’t hard enough evidence, but still suspicious. “I’ll look into it, Mlle Ardoin. Thank you for informing me.”

“Please, don’t tell her I said anything, M Agreste,” the girl pleaded. “I only told you because Mlle Dupain-Cheng was such an amazing person when we first started working together, always a hard worker and more talented than any of us. That’s why your father noticed her and let her develop her own line. But what’s going on with her now isn't normal. It hurts me to see her like this. Please, M Agreste, if you can help her, do so. She deserves it.”

It took him a few moments to respond, his mind gripped by worry. “Thank you again for letting me know, Mlle Ardoin. I’ll see if there is anything I can do.”

Before leaving, the girl said a few more things Adrien didn’t pay much attention to as his thoughts raced back to Marinette. From everything he had witnessed in this last week, one thing was clear—Marinette had become like his father. That cold, dismissive, and hostile way she was treating him… Adrien shivered. Did he really want to get involved with that kind of destructive attitude again? When he was a child, he didn’t have a choice but to tolerate his father’s treatment. Now, Adrien had options. He could ignore this annoying feeling that told him to help Marinette and let her be if that was the way she wanted to exist.

So, why? Why did he still want to help her? She'd thrown him away without so much as a chance to explain. He shouldn't care. Why did he?

Adrien swore under his breath and sat down. Thoughts ran wildly inside his mind as he debated what he could lose this time if he did decide to get involved despite everything.

Friends? He had no one close to him right now. A couple of acquaintances, but no real friends. Burned once, Adrien had never fully opened his heart for anyone else. Work? He almost laughed. There was no way he’d lose his teaching career because of Marinette. She had nothing to do with it. He doubted she even knew he was a teacher, much less which high school he worked at. His ‘leading the fashion empire’ gig? He wouldn’t mind losing that at all. It was a test run, anyway. Family? He had none. Money? He had more than enough. Love? He trusted Ladybug. He trusted that she knew him better than to question his intentions and character should anything go awry.

“More snacks?” Plagg’s voice dripped with mockery and arrogance.

With a groan, Adrien closed his eyes and dropped his head on his desk for the umpteenth time. He should probably stop doing that or he risked getting a bruise on his forehead. Adrien grumbled incoherently, his sight landing on an untouched pile of papers. He should do some work and forget for a few moments about former friends in need who wanted neither his help nor him anywhere close to them.

“So, your Princess is even more troublesome than you thought?” Plagg snarled nearby.

“She’s not my Princess.” Adrien snapped.

“She used to be.” Plagg shrugged.

Adrien closed his eyes. That old nickname he had for Marinette held so many memories within it—memories of good times when they didn't have to think about important stuff and could just have fun. He missed those times so much. Beneath all his resentment, Adrien had to admit that he did miss his friends, and only now was he starting to realize just how much. Why did everything have to change? Why did they have to change? Why did he have to mess up so badly? Even being Chat Noir was more fun back then. Adrien’s lips split in a bittersweet smile as he remembered how after patrols Chat Noir would sometimes sneak onto Marinette’s balcony for a croissant or two. They used to be friends—

Adrien jolted up. Wait a minute!

“Uh-uh!” Plagg whistled.

Adrien stared blankly in front of himself. Chat Noir and Marinette used to be friends, but she didn't know his civilian identity. Chat Noir had stopped going over to Marinette's after Adrien's fiasco, but he'd never explained the reason to her. For all she knew, he could've moved away or gotten too busy for visits.

A mischievous grin sneaked onto Adrien’s lips—something that hadn't happened in a long while. He had a plan.

Plagg narrowed his eyes at his wielder. “You look like you’re about to do something really stupid, kid.”

“You might be right, for once,” Adrien replied with renewed fire in his voice because he might have just found a way to help Marinette without her knowing anything about his involvement. At first, Adrien had thought he could find her another job and be done with it, but if anything, the last week had shown him how impossible that was without Marinette on board. Talking to her about it was out of the question, seeing as she had dismissed him every time he had as little as simply approached her. He had to come up with an alternative, and this might just be it.

This time, however, Adrien wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes. He wouldn’t rush into anything without gathering all the information on Marinette and her current situation first and then thinking everything through. Hesitantly, Adrien glanced at his cell phone. What would be the best way to start on this if not by talking to one of Marinette’s closest friends?  

“Kid, are you sure?” Plagg landed on his cell phone before Adrien could grab it. “Do you really want to poke that wasp nest again?”

“I can’t just sit back and watch her kill herself.” Adrien pulled his cell phone out from under his kwami. “Not when I can do something about it.”

“Even after everything she put you through?”

“I’m not exactly all that innocent myself.”

Plagg silently watched Adrien for a few moments before scoffing. “Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying to me when she wrecks you again.”

“Don’t worry. That won’t happen. I’m not planning on getting anywhere near that close.”

“Yeah, like you can help yourself.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kid, you always give anything you do your whole self, and this won’t be an exception. You will end up with a broken heart again. Mark my words.”

Adrien sighed. “Thank you for caring, Plagg, but I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll remain as impartial as possible. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll buy a bucket of ice cream and deal with any broken hearts myself. If they even happen, which I highly doubt.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Plagg grumbled and flew away.

Adrien started typing.

Adrien: Even if it’s awfully late, an apology is always appreciated.

Adrien: I do wonder, though, what brought this on all of a sudden?

Nino’s reply was almost immediate.

Nino: I can explain everything in an essay under one thousand words over the text, or I could tell you everything face to face over lunch. Would it be too much too soon?

Yes, it would be, but if Nino wanted to meet after years of hostility, it might be more serious than Adrien thought.

Adrien: I've lived through worse. I can handle lunch.

A few minutes later, a lunch date with a former friend was secured. Adrien glanced at his watch. His eyes widened. Eleven in the evening? How didn’t he notice the time? Then… It might just be the perfect time for what he wanted to do. Abruptly, Adrien stood, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Kid? What’s—”

“Plagg, claws out!”

He leapt out the window and looked around. Sure enough, apart from his, there was only one other window lit, and he suspected he knew exactly who was in that room. Quietly, Chat Noir got closer and peeked in. Marinette was standing with her back to the window, working on a dress hanging on a mannequin. Little by little Chat climbed in as quietly as he could, and when his feet were safely grounded on the window sill, he produced the most seductive smile he could muster in this situation—he needed her to like him, or it was all for nothing—and purred.

“Long time no see, Princess.”

With a gasp, Marinette almost jumped in place; the scissors in her hands hit the floor with a crash as she jolted around, a look of fear and dismay on her face. His heart clenched. Dark circles under her eyes, a messy hairdo and a look of extreme fatigue on her face, Marinette looked like she was at the end of her physical limit. She even needed a moment to recognize him. When she did, her eyes widened, a smile brightening her face. She reached forward, parting her lips to say something, but before she could, her eyes fluttered closed and her body went limp, collapsing into the quick-reacting arms of Chat Noir.

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