#i hope this was coherent enough and that i answered your questions suitably

[amyisherenowitsokay]

so tumblr wouldn't let me ask w/o an account so here i am-

so. hi. listen. i need to know. because i read re:mhny and a BEAUTIFUL Chekhov's gun stared me in the face just waiting to be fired??i think??- please tell me the control brains will have a role in re:mhny 3/4??? bc you're the only person i'd trust to do the concept justice and i understand if it's too late in your planning to play with but like, idk pls take my poor ideas perhaps you could be inspired-

wouldn't the control brains imply that irkens are a slave race? imagine Gaz having the AUDACITY of saying this to the Tallest, or Dib of all people not only learns of those specific dark facts (brains as overseers, irkens are grown not bred, pak holds so much more than gear, their minds, memories, abilities etc), comes to the realization, and it rips a chunk out of his view on irkens? or he looks at Zim with pity? in horror?

or something more interesting. The Control Brains use Zim's PAK against him. Zim doesn't realize, because he isn't the ''system administrator''. Maybe he's controlled, or thoughts/memories edited? Dib notices the subtle quirks, the loss in personality, Gaz notices the unnervingly nonsapient differences? Until Zim removes it for maintenance. Imagine the slowly dawning visceral terror as it hits him that he's much more aware, awake, alert without it drugging him? but- disconnection pens the 10 minute death warrant. I doubt he could constantly dis/reconnect, either.

oh yeah, first idea that hit me and i had to tell you- The Control Brains calculated the danger of Zim coming anywhere near the position of the Tallest. It's an objective fact such an outcome must be prevented. (if the irken race is slavery sanitized, perfection via calculating precision-free will is an illusion-, then leaders are knowingly produced. How else would the status quo be kept?) The Tallest know this. Zim knows this. Thus, not only the Tallest, but the Control Brains, must be removed. How, if murdering Zim where he stands is the automatic consequence for the thought? Easy, til the end. Deactivate the kill-switch. Pull the literal plug. Ten minutes to win.

Alternatively, with less 'me-editing-while-i-type-these-ideas-out-to-sound-coherent/add-more/sales-pitching-you':

Gaz stands where Zim once stood, staring at the irregularly sized and scattered crimson lenses of the Control Brains. There's a clarity that she's lost track of the remaining minutes.

Oho! Oho ho! Delighted! So delighted at fan theories ohoho!

I'm still MAD hungover from a lovely thanksgiving but I've long since honed the ability to type and not look at a screen so here we gooo.

SPOILERS/TEASERS UNDER THE CUT

First off, just to get it out of the way, I don't have any intention of trying to make a 4th Re:MHNY addition, mostly because of how my initial attempt at the 4th addition was so heavily entrenched in peer pressure and other ick. I won't go into it, but essentially, the series is going to stay a trilogy. We stan a trilogy.

The Control Brains are not going to rear their lil bulbous heads anytime soon, but I can confirm they're going to be in Re:MHNY3, as are the Tallest. I am most excited to redo the relationship between the Tallest and Zim.

The Irken Armada in fics as a whole is usually treated as a stepping stool for Zim to be King of the Hill, or for his Hero's Journey Redemption Arc. Which, don't get me wrong, some of my favorite fics have Zim end as a Tallest or Zim end as hero of Earth, but I personally HC something else that's going to be gently established as the story continues. I am still warring with the final cleanup, but I DO know some of it.

For your initial question, yes, absolutely. I think it might be canon (?) that the Irkens are a slave race, but don't quote me on that, brain is dehydrated and crispy. Regardless, for me, yes, I do think of the Irkens as enslaved, but heavily propagandized not to notice. According to them, they're not slaves, they're soldiers, when in fact they're both.

Gaz's 'audacity' in particular is a theme I'm looking forward to writing, and have actively already brainstormed. I do intend for Gaz to end up meeting the Tallest again, but unlike the original MHNY, you'll note that the Tallest are far less favorable to Zim at the end of the first story. They don't look at him with awe and admiration as they did in the original. They don't even know he has a mate, and that information is deliberately kept from them. They treat him with disdain, and Gaz notices and loathes it. They're not besties, they're dictators speaking to a subordinate they'd prefer was dead, and since he's been disillusioned, Zim knows that. The really fun thing about Re:MHNY is Zim doesn't have to imagine what Gaz does when face-to-face with someone with as much Absolute Authority(tm) as a Tallest. He's already seen it. Have a blurb from Re: 3!

It's not a question of "can you imagine how they'd react?" because Zim already knows. He's counting on it and accounting for it. And that's going to be the fun part!

Now onto Dib! I can't say too much without actually spoiling Re:2 actually, but I can say that Dib IS going to find out more about Irken culture than Zim ever wanted to him to know. He brought up multiple time to Gaz in Re:MHNY how much he really doesn't want Dib to understand or know Irken business the way she does. The curtain being pulled back for Gaz doesn't mean the offer extends to her sibling, but Dib's never been one to know when to keep himself out of other people's business. How he does so is where I'll let the mystery sit.

Regarding Zim being beaten up by a CB, or in some way ctrl + alt + deleted, I borrow a lot of my lore from unpublished episodes too, including The Trial. It's therefore my HC that the Control Brains themselves can't touch Zim, and have in fact been infected to view him favorably. I'll go more into what happened in Re:3, and what attempts were made to fix any errors Zim caused, but the events of that unpublished episode are important enough to keep in mind when I get around to writing it. At this point though, the Armada has become afraid to try to destroy Zim without the CB's on their side. It's best for everyone if Zim is dead, but they'll settle for keeping him as far away from Irk and their leaders as possible, and keep humoring him to make sure he doesn't want to leave, which is where the end of MHNY: Re lands.

Brain is now slushie but I hope that tickles your fancy. Tysm for making a whole account just to share your enthusiasm about the direction of Re's future installments with me. I love and cherish every single one of my ao3/ff comments, but tumblr let's me go on monologues like this/gives me a place to upload teasers/art whenever I want to satisfy my readers during fic update gaps. Your username made me laugh audibly, but before you delete your account, I'd recommend perusing through my blog here if you're looking for more teasers.

[pooma-education]

How to prepare article review and term paper.

Research is dynamic and provides insights into solving complex problems in our lives. It empowers educators to foster open-mindedness, generate rational ideas, encourage critical thinking, and develop problem-solving skills, paving the way for a visionary approach to human life. In today's era, academic strength is not solely determined by the number of certificates but rather by the quantity and quality of papers and articles published. Titles like Assistant Professor, Associate Professor, and Full Professor are conferred based on the number of papers published in international journals and participation in international conferences. Therefore, I encourage educators in Somaliland to unite on a suitable platform and establish a research organization, playing a vital role in addressing questions that currently elude answers. I will also share insights on reviewing articles and term papers when delving into specific research topics

Process of article #review:

1. Read the article: Start by thoroughly reading the article you've chosen for review. Take notes and highlight important points or ideas as you go along.

2. Understand the main argument: Identify the main argument or thesis of the article. What is the author's central claim or point of view? Consider the evidence and supporting details provided to back up the argument.

3. Evaluate the article: Critically analyze the article's strengths and weaknesses. Assess the clarity of the argument, the credibility of the author, the relevance of the evidence, and the overall structure and organization of the article.

4. Consider the methodology: If the article includes research or empirical data, evaluate the methodology used. Assess the validity and reliability of the research methods and data collection techniques employed.

5. Discuss implications and contributions: Reflect on the article's implications within its field of study. Consider how the findings or arguments contribute to existing knowledge or open up new avenues for research.

6. Provide a balanced assessment: In your review, offer a balanced evaluation of the article, highlighting both its strengths and weaknesses. Support your points with evidence from the article or other relevant sources.

The second phase of our aritcle (Term Paper).

A. Choose a topic: Select a topic that is relevant to your course or assignment guidelines. Make sure the topic is specific enough to be manageable within the scope of your paper.

B. Conduct research: Gather relevant sources such as scholarly articles, books, and reputable websites to support your paper's arguments. Take notes and keep track of the sources you use for proper citation later.

C. Develop a thesis statement: Formulate a clear and concise thesis statement that presents the main argument or purpose of your paper. Your thesis should guide the overall structure and content of your paper.

D. Outline your paper: Create an outline to organize your thoughts and ensure a logical flow of ideas. Divide your paper into sections or subsections based on the main points you want to address.

E. Write the paper: Begin writing your term paper by expanding upon the points outlined in your outline. Provide evidence and arguments to support your thesis statement, and use proper citations to give credit to the original sources.

F. Revise and edit: Review your paper for clarity, coherence, and grammar. Check that your arguments are well-supported and that your writing is concise and focused. Make any necessary revisions and proofread for errors before finalizing your paper.

I hope to read it 🙏.

Mohamed Abdi.

Best regards.

[absinthe-and-abstinence]

An Unhealthy Obsession: Chapter Seven

Cafe Bustelo and Bets

TW: Slight implications of death and mention of slitting wrists.

<3

Previous Chapter | Master List | Next Chapter

Morning came early.

The sunshine dipped its fingers into your bedroom, even through the blinds, and eventually, you couldn’t fight it off anymore. The alarm clock next to you displayed 7:53 and it wasn’t until then you realized how early it really was.

You did your morning routine of using the restroom and brushing your teeth, but you skipped washing your face – you had done so last night, and you really didn’t need the cold water to wake you up more.

What you hadn’t done after last night was change clothes or at least both on sleepwear. You changed out of your jeans and collared top from yesterday and opted for sweatpants and a crop top instead. While looking to see if the outfit would be suitable to show in front of Spencer, you also added foundation and basic makeup as well. It felt like too much, but since he was going to see you often, you wanted to look decent in the meantime.

Speaking of Spencer.

You crept out of your bedroom, careful not to creak the floor or have the door to the bedroom squeak. You tiptoed around his room – in which you heard the distant sound of snoring, a good sign – and found your way downstairs.

Snoring was a good sign.

It meant he hadn’t escaped.

That, and he felt comfortable enough to sleep.

Imagine; Spencer climbing into the same bed as you. He’d slip in between the sheets and snuggle up against the back of your body. His body would warm your own, and his breath would tickle your ear. As he’d begin to give your neck kisses and move slowly down, you’d be able to…

Focus.

You walked around the downstairs, seeing if anything had moved or shifted during the night. Although the study light had remained on, nothing seemed out of place, and a book seemed to have disappeared from one of the shelves. You weren’t able to recall which but hoped it was a well-written one.

You started up the French press and took your pills in the meantime. They weren’t much; just birth control, some season allergy pill, and Airborne. You had started taking Airborne and other Vitamin C supplements during the pandemic, and even though this world you were in hadn’t left you in quarantine or wearing masks, you continued to take it. It just seemed like routine, and something familiar.

You groaned and wished for your Adderall again. Hell, you’d even go back to Ritalin at this point. Unfortunately, they didn’t really give out these drugs without a prescription, and your doctor was ten years into the future on another plane of existence. Your thoughts, now that you weren’t hyperfixated on kidnapping a man, seemed jumbled and jumped all over the place.

In the meantime, you’d just self-medicate with coffee. Maybe it wouldn’t be noticeable.

Taking your first sip of coffee, felt refreshing and your mind seemed to instantly calm itself down. You walked over to the couch and sat yourself down with your cup. You weren’t really one for meditation, but sitting with a warm cup of coffee on a sunny morning was the closest thing to it. You took your time drinking it. Even though your mind had been up and running only a few minutes ago, it seemed to calm down enough to gather your thoughts. Those thoughts turned into questions, and part of you wished your mind wasn’t as coherent as it was.

Now that Spencer was here, now what?

What do the collar and cuffs actually do?

What happens if he escapes?

What if the team goes looking for him, if they haven’t already?

Would you ever explain the fact you were from a completely different reality?

Would you ever say ‘I love you?’

A lot of these questions you didn’t quite have the answer to if any at all. The degree of uncertainty you had. Had not been calculated beforehand. Before, the only thing on your mind was Spencer. Now that you had him here, the consequences and effects seemed out of your control.

You took your mind off this by starting breakfast.

Mixing up some flour, water, and eggs, you greased a couple of large pans and started to heat them up. While heating, you washed and cut up an array of fruit. Blueberries, strawberries, bananas…you placed them each in separate piles and went to the fridge to grab out bacon. After analyzing the contents of the refrigerator for a little while, you found the bacon and shut the door. To which, to your surprise, stood Spencer, still yawning and wiping the sleep away from his eyes.

“S’morning.”

You yelped in surprise, which startled him. You clutched the bacon you got out of the fridge as you chuckled.

“Sorry – I didn’t see you standing there. Good morning, Doctor.”

Still squinting and waking up, he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Good morning, Spencer. The prefix seems to be…a reflex,” you said. It was a lie, you liked the sound of the word ‘doctor’ leaving your mouth, but kept that to yourself. “How’d you sleep?”

He scratched at the collar around his throat, the metal resting against his Adam’s apple. He didn’t seem to respond to the question, only yawning in response. He had decided to wear the Cal Tech shirt with a set of plaid bottoms that looked just like you had imagined. When he stretched, the shirt rode up a little, only revealing a sliver of his stomach. It was enough to make you blush, so you went back to work. You put down the bacon and started to open the container, then tried a different question.

“Which book did you pick to read last night?”

He sighed and looked at you.

“Paradise Lost. It’s always a good classic.”

Of course he would think of Paradise Lost as a ‘good read.’ You struggled reading through it each time it was required for school, and even then you had the internet for help. The idea of anyone reading it for fun made you laugh, and he took note of that.

“Sorry; I’m not laughing at you.” You took some bacon and threw it into a sizzling pan. “I, um, always have had a hard time reading it. I’ve tried but I’ve never really understood it.” On cue, Spencer began to recite:

Into this wild abyss, The womb of nature and perhaps her grave, Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the almighty maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds, Into this wild abyss the wary fiend Stood on the brink of hell and look a while, Pondering his voyage...

You stared at him in amazement. Even knowing he had an eidetic memory, it was impressive. His voice was that of silk and honey, and you hung onto each word. It was as if the text you had struggled with for years was illuminated all at once, and Spencer began to breathe life into the words themselves. The way he pronounced each syllable and fluctuated the tone gave meaning to the reciting, and you were blown away.

He cleared his throat and continued. “That’s from Book II. It’s about Satan standing on the edge of Heaven and Hell, and is thinking about his journey. His journey, of course, is trying to visit the other world that God created and spoke about. Now, this isn’t canon of course. The idea of Satan or even what we think of…”

Spencer talked the entire way of you making breakfast. He’d find a new line of information that dove off onto another subject, and even though the beginning of the conversation started at seventeenth-century poetry, the conversation dipped into Mesopotamian mythology and American politics.

As you flipped pancakes and fried bacon, you asked interjecting questions. Even if you weren’t always able to follow along, you tried your best. On your second cup of coffee, you started to feel more comfortable asking clarifying questions. You had learned about lilu, a bird monster, and the Deist belief that the Founding Fathers used to regulate their idea of politics.

The more you asked about and allowed him the room and time to talk, the more light came to his eyes. His eyes flickered back and forth rapidly as if reading from his own memory. He talked with his hands often, wiping away imaginary old ideas and grouping together new ones. Your favorite, however, was when he’d get stuck and the words wouldn’t come to him, and he’d ruffle his fingers through his hands. Watching his fingers glide through his locks gave you heartache in the second, wishing it was you.

“Well,” you finally stated, after he finished his explanation on Nihilism, “breakfast is ready. I’m okay to eat wherever, so you can choose if you want the couch, the dining room, or even just in here.”

Lost in thought still over the concept of Nihilism, he startled at your words and blinked, taking a few seconds to process what you had said. He glanced at you, then glanced at the food all made, then back at you.

“You didn’t stop me from talking.”

You grinned. “I didn’t mind. I learned a lot.”

He shifted his weight and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms.

“Tangents are easy for me to go off of. I tend to ramble quite a bit.”

You walked over to him, and replied,

“It’s not rambling if you know what you’re talking about.”

He stared back in confusion. As if to answer, you cupped his face and brought it down closer to your level. You stood on your tippy-toes, and kissed the top of his forehead. Moving away from his forehead, your face full of blush, you made a decision.

“Let’s eat in the dining room. The sunlight is streaming in and it feels perfect.”

You started to bring in the food and cups of coffee into the dining room. As you took trips from the kitchen to there, you noticed that Spencer started to rub the top of his head, where you had kissed him momentarily.

You’d always wanted to do that.

Once everything was set up, you walked back into the kitchen with Spencer’s cup of coffee and handed it to him. He hesitated before taking a sip, then took a large swig. His eyes lit up and he began drinking more.

“Now I know you like sugar, but I wasn’t sure how much, so I just placed some sugar on the table.”

He took another sip. “This…this is,” he stammered, “this is really good coffee.”

Sheepishly, you placed some hair behind your ear. “I, um, used to be a barista. I know which beans to get and for the most part how to prepare them.” You laughed. “I’m decent at hot and iced coffee, but anything blended gets a bit more tricky.”

He finished his cup and immediately went over to the French press. “You know, it’s not very good to leave the coffee in the press. It can, um, over-extract the grounds.”

It was your turn to cross your arms. “I know. I just brewed this round while you were talking. It hasn’t been very long.”

He poured the rest of the coffee into his cup and eyed you.

“What was I talking about?”

You weren’t sure if this was a test or not, but you had an answer nonetheless.

“The misinterpretation of Lilith.”

He pursed his lips and picked up his coffee again. You continued.

“She’s not actually a character in the Bible, and isn’t really referenced in the Christian Bible. She’s written in the Alphabet of Ben Sira and was a loose translation of—”

He held up his hand as if to stop you.

“You…remembered what I was saying?”

You didn’t see your face, but you were sure that oblivion was written all over it.

“Of course. You were talking, and it was interesting, so of course I was paying attention.” You tilted your head. “Why?”

He chuckled and started to walk over to the dining room. Funny – this was the first time he had chuckled. “Nothing,” he said, whipping his hand as if to dismiss the conversation. “Just surprised, is all.”

---

Breakfast was mainly quiet, until the end.

Spencer placed his silverware onto his plate and sighed.

“So,” he asked, leaning his head onto a fist he had made a hand, “what are you going to do with me?”

You finished your bite and stared at him.

“What do you mean?”

He took his other hand and ran it through his hair. Gah, he looked so cute when he did that.

“Well, you’ve kidnapped me, placed me into restraints, and then just…” he paused, playing with his hair, “you haven’t really done anything to me yet, so I wanted to know what was in store.”

You crossed both your arms onto the table and leaned forward with them. “What do you mean,” you asked again.

He moved his hands into his lap and licked his lips. “Are you going to stab me?”

“No.”

“Are you going to shoot me?”

“No,” you said resigned.

“Will you torture me to death?”

“Spenc—”

He continued, rambling. “Hang me? Slit my wrists and let me bleed out? Overdose me? Drown me? Tear my skin off?”

“Spencer.” You stopped him from going down his disturbing serial killer list. He paused, with the fear in his eyes returning from the other night. You put your hand on his shoulder, and he winced at the touch.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m not going to torture you or drug you, or do any of the other things you said.” You removed your hand from his shoulder and brought it to the base of his chin, using this to move his face towards yours.

“I’m not going to hurt you. The last thing I want to see you be is in pain.”

His face still pointing towards yours, his eyes flickered downwards and towards any direction that wasn’t eye contact.

“Listen,” you said, your voice soft and gentle. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t want it where you have to worry about me trying to see your guts on the floor each time you enter a room. I want you to feel safe here. I’ve been trying to make it nice for you, and if there’s anything – anything – I can do to help, I’ll do what I can.”

He took your hand away from his chin and guided your hand to the vibration of the collar. He whispered, almost not audible. “Is this here to make me feel safe?” He placed your hand around his right wrist, where the cuff was located. “Are these here to make me feel comfortable?”

You sighed. “I was afraid of you running off once you got here. I didn’t want you escaping before I had a chance to meet you and have you here for a while.”

He grunted. “So you want me locked up and ask if I’m comfortable?” He took his hand off of you and grabbed his plate. “Well,” he replied with the iciest tone, “at least I’ll be the coziest abductee the FBI has seen when they find me.” He walked into the kitchen to place his dishes into the dishwasher.

When, he said, not if.

You massaged your temple and as he came back to grab his cup, you brought up a topic you may soon live to regret.

“You like challenges and puzzles, don’t you, Spencer?”

Silence.

“I’ll give you one.” You ran your fingers through your hair and placed them around your neck. You sat over hunched, elbows resting on the table.

“If you can figure out the password for the collar and the cuffs. If you’re able to solve it on your own – no lockpicking and no hack-wiring. If you can guess the code correctly,

You can leave, and you’ll be free to.”

You looked your body off of the table and saw a bewildered Spencer Reid standing above you.

“I won’t follow you. I won’t grab you again and force you back here. You’ll be on your own free way, and I won’t make contact again unless you want to.”

You stook out your hand meekly, instantly unsure of what you were offering. After all your planning, after all your hard work and the passion that had driven you to here; were you really going to just give it up?

Before you could second-guess yourself out of the situation, you felt a firm and warm hand enter yours, and shake. There was no paperwork, but a contract felt like it had been signed. The terms and conditions were outside your control now.

“Deal.”

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (11)

     jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: some angst and irrational jealousy

words: 5.2k

   chapter eleven

Your presentation with Namjoon the next day was a success – which was almost a given, considering how much work the two of you had put into it – and, to celebrate that it finally ended, you went out for some coffee in the afternoon. The campus café was packed at a time like this but both of you were still buzzing from the adrenaline of having to present in front of the whole class, so you barely noticed anyone else.

“I’m so glad we presented last,” you said and then sighed in content after you tasted your caramel beverage. “That left no time for anyone to ask any questions since everyone just wanted to go home faster.”

Namjoon chuckled. “I know. That’s the only benefit of having to spend the entire class stressed and anxious.”

You groaned at the realization of how many nerve cells you’d lost today. “Thank God that’s over now.”

“Yeah, it’s—” he started to say and was suddenly cut off by a sharp flashing sound from somewhere behind you, accompanied by a bright flicker of light that illuminated—and blinded—the boy in front of you for just a second.

You blinked in shock – both from the flash and from the realization that someone had just taken a picture of you two – and turned around, your eyes widening in surprise.

Behind you, a group of flustered freshmen huddled close to each other as they sprinted out of the café, their phones in hands. They looked back at you as they went, quickly turning away as soon as they caught your eye.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, turning back around.

“Some wannabe paparazzi, I’m assuming,” Namjoon said, rubbing his eyes with the pillows of his index fingers, “with some audacity. They didn’t even bother to check if the flash was on.”

“This whole week has been very weird,” you said, glancing over your shoulder again, so you could watch the group through the window – they had piled together in the front-yard of the café and were, most likely, adding unflattering filters to the picture they just took – and then you returned your attention to your friend, all while shaking your head, “but that still has to be the weirdest thing that happened to me. Why would they do something like that?”

“Hard to find a sensible reason,” Namjoon said, his voice empathetic, “but if I had to guess, then I’d say they’re trying to stir something up with that picture.”

“How?” you asked and then realized. “Oh, because I’m here with you?”

“Yeah.”

You rolled your eyes, finding it hard to believe that you were in your final years of university, and the people around you – albeit younger than you – still behaved like they were characters in a high school drama.

“Jesus,” you mumbled dejectedly and took your paper cup of coffee into your shaky hands, sipping it slowly in hopes that the hot liquid would calm you down. You set the cup back down again after a minute, however, because it had no effect on your nerves at all. “Are there no clubs they’d like to join? Nothing else they would want to spend their time doing? I mean, how bored are they?”

Namjoon cleared his throat, feeling awkward for not having suitable answers to any of your questions and for putting you in this position in the first place. “I, uh—yeah. Very bored, probably. I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed glance – his apology had confused you – and noticed how uncomfortable he looked as he avoided your eyes and drew indiscernible patterns on the table with his finger.

“Why are you apologizing?” you tried asking softly. “This isn’t your fault.”

He knew that, of course, but that didn’t alleviate his discomfort. “No, I just feel like I’m partially responsible for that picture because I suggested we get coffee here.”

“You could have never guessed that people would be weird enough to do this,” you countered, feeling even worse now that this incident has made him wish he hadn’t come here with you. “If anything, it’s me who should be apologizing for dragging you into this. I’m honestly struggling to understand why they care so much but I shouldn’t have—”

Namjoon protested, “no, don’t feel guilty about this.”

You stopped to really consider his words.

The two of you were sitting here, apologizing to each other, when, the truth was, neither of you was responsible for the sheer shallowness of the people around you. You had no influence when they were placing their priorities and you couldn’t be blamed for what happened just because these people valued a good campus scandal more than an A in Calculus.

“Yeah. You’re right. I didn’t do anything wrong,” you declared, “and neither did you. Do you want to take a walk instead of sitting here?” you asked then, relieved that you chose to get your coffees to-go instead of drinking them from those pretty but very fragile-looking porcelain cups that several girls were snapping pictures of a few tables away.

An impressed smile appeared on his face after your suggestion; you knew your self-worth. And Namjoon – in the least condescending way possible – admired that greatly.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said with a nod at the window of the café. “The weather’s nice.”

Thankfully, the incident at the café did not repeat itself when the two of you strolled around campus, talking and drinking your coffees in peace. You ended up getting into a conversation so deep – Namjoon was telling you about how his roommate, Seokjin, had purchased an unidentified plant from the flower shop off-campus and was convinced he was now growing marijuana in his room – you didn’t even notice when you finished your drink and it was time for you to say goodbye and head back home.

It was very nice to talk to someone – other than Inna – who shared your point-of-view on most things, but still remained calm and respectful when the conversation turned to something you didn’t exactly agree on. You weren’t used to that. Even Inna, who was normally understanding and open-minded, had a strong opinion on certain things and, sometimes, she got defensive if you disagreed.

Jungkook was a whole different specimen: if someone said something he didn’t like, he was going to defend his stance with impressive – and, frankly, intimidating – fury. Being near him could always make your blood boil, your pupils dilate, and your heart start skipping beats.

Talking to him could sometimes make you wish you could jump off a building – just so you wouldn’t have to look at his shit-eating grin anymore – but it also reminded you that you were alive. It was like bungee-jumping. Like swimming with the sharks.

Apparently, you were an adrenaline junkie, and – as you reluctantly admitted to yourself – he was the adrenaline fix you needed.

When you got back to your building – still thinking about Jungkook even after you’d spent half a day with Namjoon – and entered the elevator, you had your mind set on watching a distracting movie so you could push Jungkook out of your thoughts. You haven’t seen him these past few days and, clearly, it was starting to get to you.

And that was precisely when you nearly fell right back into the elevator cabin after you stepped out and saw the sight in front of you – you thought your abstinence from Jungkook had caused you to hallucinate.

“Oh, you’re finally here.”

Jungkook stood up from the spot next to your door when he saw you emerge down the hall.

You hadn’t expected the boy that haunted your mind to manifest himself right in front of you, so you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. But you still tried, “w-what are—w-why—”

“I called,” he said as a way of explaining. “You didn’t answer.”

You remembered hearing this when he showed up at your dorm the first time, prompting a very awkward three-way exchange between him, Namjoon, and you. Granted, now that the awkward component was out, this gesture could have made your heart flutter but, really, it felt more like a—pleasant—stab into your chest.  

“I, uh, I left my phone in the dorm,” you said, your hands seeming useless when you had no device to hold. “You have to stop coming here whenever I don’t answer my phone, though.”

A confident grin appeared on his lips but his eyes – the true mirror into his heart – were begging.

“Why?” he asked only half teasingly as his gaze seemed to pulsate with need to hear you say that you wanted him here. “Am I not welcome?”

You remembered – and instantly discarded – your plan to watch a distracting movie, and shook your head.

“No,” you said. You wanted him here. It was any thought or activity, distracting you from him, that wasn’t welcome. “I just feel bad for making you wait.”

Pleased with the answer – and not even trying to conceal it as the warmth on the edges of his pupils spread like honey throughout both of his eyes – Jungkook pushed his hands into his pockets.

“It’s fine,” he said and then added, almost carelessly, “I thought something could have happened to you. You’re not one to forget your phone. So, I came to check.”

“Yeah, I was in a hurry this morning—”

“But then I heard it ring inside when I tried calling you from here, so I figured what happened.”

You blinked at his interruption. “Wait, so you knew I left my phone? Why did you wait then?”

“Well, I still needed to talk to you.”

The unapologetic tone of his voice made you inhale sharply and take an unconscious step back as a protective means so you wouldn’t throw your arms around him like your heart wanted you to. You lowered your eyes.

“Okay, but you could have—I-I mean,” you didn’t know why you were still talking. It was obvious that he didn’t mind waiting. And yet that was somehow so impossible to believe. “What if I would have been gone longer?”

“Then I would have waited longer,” he shrugged like it was obvious, his eyes analyzing your confused features. “Why are you so bothered that I’m here?”

“I’m not bothered, I’m just—” truly, relentlessly falling more and more in love with you. “I was just surprised. Sorry I made you wait. What did you want to talk about?”

You gave him a weak smile as you tried to use the business tone you reserved for almost everyone but your voice still came out sounding meek and uncertain.

Jungkook just chuckled – not at you but, rather, at the the obviously nervous state you were in right now. While he always—secretly— appreciated your witty banter and sarcasm, he couldn’t help but feel proud to have this disarming effect on you.

“Straight to the point, huh?” he ribbed. “I thought that, after I’d waited for you for thirty minutes, the least you would do is invite me inside.”

“You waited for thirty minutes?”

“More or less.”

“Shit,” you were done for and you hated that it took this little – just some dedication to wait until you returned – to win your complete devotion. “I’m sorry.”

You walked past him – trying almost desperately not to breathe but still getting a whiff of his cologne and clenching your jaw as you refused to let the intoxicating smell affect you – to unlock the door.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said, watching you and marveling at how completely unaware you were about the effects that the smell of your hair – as it lightly brushed against his chest when you walked past – had on him. “I don’t mind.”

You turned the key in the lock, the warmth from inside of the room hitting your already warm face as soon as the door opened.

You moved to a side and looked at him.

“So, uh—come inside, then.”

He did. And the room felt suffocating with him in it – but not in a painful way. It was just unusual: like you’d been transported into a different realm where breathing was no longer necessary to keep you alive and yet your body – so used to the way things were before – was still fighting it.

It was a useless battle.

You couldn’t breathe around him anyway.

“So, I received a picture today,” Jungkook said as he followed after you and took his shoes off by the door.

“Received a picture?” you frowned at his wording, lifting your eyes from your shoes to his face. “I hope you don’t mean in the mail.”

“No—” he paused to laugh. “I mean someone sent it to me. Well, to this groupchat I’m in but they tagged me.”

You placed your shoes in their rightful position by the door but chose not to return your eyes to his because you had a feeling where this was going.

“Right,” you said, not encouraging him to go on but knowing that he would anyway.

“It was you and Namjoon,” he said.

You nodded – which surprised him. “So, the picture reached you.”

For a moment, Jungkook tried to look for hidden hints in your voice – hints that would indicate where your knowledge about this had come from and, more importantly, why you looked so defensive all of a sudden, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him from the other end of the hall – but then he settled on just asking.

“You know about it?”

“Do you know who took it?” you countered, surprising him further.

“Uh—no, I just know who sent it,” he said. “Why? What are you going to—”

“I’m going to complain,” you decided.

Even though you’d suspected that the picture was going to be sent out and not kept as a private artifact, hearing just how quickly it reached Jungkook – and that it was, apparently, directed at him but not sent privately to him – pissed you off.

It was like showing the picture to Jungkook was only one part of this masterplan and this part was a small one. Because another part – the big, important one – was making fun of him in front of every person that was in the groupchat he’d mentioned.

“You don’t take pictures of people in public without their consent, not even celebrities,” you began, “and with a flash on, no less! Like they weren’t even trying to be secretive about the whole thing.”

“R-right. That was disrespectful,” Jungkook agreed, puzzled to notice that the same frustration he’d felt when he saw the picture, was now mirrored on your features. “But I mean… we’re supposed to be dating, remember? That’s why they took the picture.”

You entered the bedroom and he hesitantly trailed behind you.

“That’s not an excuse,” you said.

“Of course, it’s not,” he agreed. “But I kind of get it. I mean… well, how do you think it makes me look when you’re—”

You stopped in the middle of the room and turned around, finding it difficult to fathom how he was capable of defending these people, when they were so dead-set on humiliating him by showing everyone a picture of you with “some other guy”.

“Jungkook,” you said sternly. “That’s exactly why they took the picture. To make you look bad.”

“And they succeeded!”

You frowned. “Doesn’t that piss you off?”

“No—I mean, yeah, obviously, it does. I came here because I was pissed off,” he spoke, his eyes jumping from the window behind you to the posters hanging on Inna’s side of the room. “But I had some time to think about this while I waited for you. I’m actually more pissed off about you being with someone else than I am about getting embarrassed in front of others.”

You thought you misunderstood him. “What?”

The last time Jungkook panicked this much was when he’d been caught red-handed stealing his father’s Jack Daniels from the pantry in eighth grade.

“I… I meant—I’m pissed off about you hanging out with someone else,” he said, rolling his eyes for more effect as he tried to make it seem as though he’d just phrased himself wrong before.

Both of his hands were behind his neck as he stretched – a nervous habit – and you watched him battle his inner discomfort for a minute as you debated which part to focus on. Maybe he really didn’t mean to say what he said.

“Jungkook,” you finally said. “With all due respect, I’m not going to stop hanging out with my friends just because your two-faced friends want to mock you.”

He groaned – growing genuinely irritated now – and turned his back to you. “It’s not that they’re mocking me—”

“Don’t defend them!” you protested.

“I’m not!” his voice had risen to match yours. Slowly, he turned around and dropped his hands to his sides with an exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying, it’s not about them trying to mock me.”

You didn’t believe him. “So you’re saying you would have still been pissed about this if they sent the picture to you personally instead of showing it to everyone?”

“I would have been pissed about this even if there was no picture,” Jungkook replied.

“What are you saying?”

He sighed again. He thought it was fairly obvious what he was saying.

“We’re fake-dating, right?” he asked and it felt like he was deflecting. “So that means people are going to do this. They’re going to talk, even take pictures—”

“I know that,” you said. “We already talked about that.”

“Yes, but… I know that this makes you uncomfortable. And I hate that, really, I do. I’m grateful that you’re helping me in spite of it.”

Waiting for him to get the the point, you tapped your foot impatiently. “Okay.”

“I…” his eyes fell to the ground. The creaking floorboards under your feet distracted him. “What I’m trying to say is that, other people are going to be talking about what’s going on. And these types of things,” he meant the picture as he waved his phone around, “are just going to make them even more curious.”

“You’re suggesting that, by hanging out with my friends, I’m giving them something more to talk about?” you tried. “Even if they don’t take pictures.”

“N-not with your—well, they don’t know he’s your friend.”

“Actually, they don’t know you’re not just my friend, too.”

Jungkook winced – but it was a momentary reaction and, afterwards, you weren’t sure if he really did wince, or if it was just a stray ray of sun that passed through the curtains on your window and blinded him – and then cleared his throat.

“Well, exactly,” he said. “They don’t know shit. They assumed we’re dating and we decided to go with it. And now they see you with Namjoon and, remember, they don’t have confirmation that we’re dating, so, naturally, they start to speculate even harder.”

You had to give it to him, he may have had a point. Maybe people weren’t actually trying to mock Jungkook. Maybe they weren’t laughing about how his “girlfriend” was “cheating” on him with someone else.

Maybe people were genuinely curious whether he was dating you or not and, perhaps, they hoped that by pushing him into the corner with this piece of evidence – that was obtained through questionable means but this wasn’t a courtroom, so everyone fought dirty – Jungkook would finally give them some answers that they craved.

“I’m—” you sat down, too overwhelmed to finish a full sentence. “This is so childish, my head is starting to hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said and then took the liberty of sitting down next to you.

“No, it’s—I get what you’re saying,” you told him, turning your head so your eyes would meet and catching the sharp sound of him inhaling as he realized how close your faces were. You flushed and turned away. “I-I was just—I don’t know, I guess I got sensitive because of the way they handled this. I mean, when they took the picture, I knew they were going to show it to you, that much was obvious. But I thought it was going to be one of those “hey, just a warning, but I saw your girlfriend out with some guy today” type of texts, you know? One-on-one.”

He fisted the sheets of your bed when you referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Sitting here next to you – so close he could now make out the specific notes of your scent; he loved the smell of menthol in your hair – was going to kill him.

“Yeah,” he said as he exhaled. “With us, it’s never one-on-one. When they’re not sure about something, they argue about it in front of everyone.”

That sounded terrible. It even reminded you of a prison – with no private space and everyone constantly sticking their nose in each other’s business.

“Why do you hang out with these people?” you asked. “They’re always looking for ways to humiliate you.”

You thought Jungkook was going to defend them again and insist that they were like this with everyone, not just him – and you would have had no choice but to take his word for it, since you didn’t belong to the inside crowd – but, much to your surprise, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked down.

“They’re—yeah, I can’t explain that,” he said, suddenly sad. “They clung themselves to us – to t-the other members and me, I mean – and we didn’t bother to shake them off.”

Of course, they didn’t. Parental Advisory – and Jungkook in particular – loved being the center of everyone’s attention. And it made sense. Who wouldn’t love being loved?

You swayed your head thoughtfully but did not say anything else for a while. When you finally felt his shoulders relax and poke yours, you finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you said.

He didn’t blame you for it – which was unexpected but perhaps you’d misjudged just how self-aware about the situation with his friends he was – as he smiled softly. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here, demanding you stop spending time with your, uh, friend.”

He hated describing Namjoon in this way and he couldn’t hide it – not that he tried.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” you told him.

“Thanks.”

You nodded in response, the argument finally settling down. Only, you still needed to make a decision how to proceed – choosing to “just go with it” hasn’t exactly gone very well.

“So, what are we going to do about this?” you asked, careful so as not to make your voice sound too strict.

“You said you were going to complain,” Jungkook reminded you.

“I did,” you nodded, already seeing yourself knocking on the door of the dean’s office in your mind. “But it’s pointless, isn’t it? It won’t change anything.”

There were only so many things the dean could do, and controlling a population of nearly twenty-thousand students on campus wasn’t one of them.

“No, probably not,” Jungkook confirmed.

“So, what, then?”

He looked at you. “I have a plan. But you may not like it.”

You swallowed, aware that there wasn’t anything that you wouldn’t have done for him.

It was scary when you realized just how much control over you he still had, all of these years later. You briefly wondered if he’d ever cease to affect you this much.

“What is it?” you spoke.

“Come with me to our party this Friday,” he asked. “It’ll be a great way for us to express our anger about this in a more socially acceptable way. We’d sublimate, so to speak.”

You looked away. He had the power to convince you to do anything – you did not doubt that – but, God, you really didn’t want him to convince you do to this.

“Jungkook—”

“We wouldn’t have to stay long. Just—”

“Just so they’d see us together?” you cut him off and the sharpness in your voice wounded him because that wasn’t the only reason. “Just so we could respond to their incessant nosiness in this passive-aggressive way?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “But also because I want to hang out with you there.”

You thought that was just an excuse – a way to soften the blow after he confessed that he only wanted you to come to strengthen the image of your false relationship – so you didn’t catch the vulnerability in his voice.

“If that’s the case, then we could hang out—” you tried to say but Jungkook beat you to the end of your sentence.

“Here, I know,” he finished for you. “Or anywhere else that’s private. But I’m asking you to hang out with me there.”

You stayed quiet.

You weren’t saying no but Jungkook could see that you didn’t want to do this. He realized, in that moment, that he could convince you to come if he put his mind to it, but that would mean that you’d be doing something you didn’t want, all for his sake.

He couldn’t do that. He didn’t want that.

Standing up from the bed, he said, “I’m going to go.”

You followed him with your eyes, the sudden announcement taking you off-guard. “What?”

“Yeah,” he said, not turning around but stopping in the middle of your room nevertheless, “or I might start throwing things.”

“W-why—?”

“Because I want to spend time with you and you’re rejecting me,” he explained in haste, his words sticking together and making it nearly impossible for you to understand him. Not to mention, your heart was now beating so loudly, you were partially deaf to all other sounds. “I guess, you could say it’s bruising my ego. I have to—”

“No, Jungkook, come on,” you stood up, too, not really willing yourself to. Your body seemed to follow his automatically. “You know I want to spend time with you, too.”

He didn’t know, actually. But hearing this was enough to get him to stop and reconsider – clearly, he didn’t really want to leave.

“But do we have to go to that party?” you asked after he didn’t say anything.

He counted the dents on the wall next to your bed before finally saying, “what have we got to lose? People are talking anyway, so why would we stay home?”

A sad smile appeared on your face – you didn’t like reminding him of this; it felt like you were reminding him of your own name – as you replied, “you might find it surprising, but staying home isn’t actually painful for me. I enjoy that.”

“No, I… I know that,” Jungkook said, bringing a hand through his hair. He regretted standing up now. He worded himself better when he was sitting. “But… Okay. W-we could go to the party, hang out there for a little bit, and then we’ll head back and hang out at your place. What do you think?”

That was supposed to be a compromise but it felt too much like he was trying to do you a favor, but not really succeeding at it. Because the core reason why he wanted you two to spend more time together was still laced with his need to prove a point -- and the point was that you and him were more together than you and Namjoon.

“Where’s the catch?” you asked, not seeing how the return back to your place could have benefited your fake relationship.

“There’s no catch,” he said. “I genuinely wish to be—wish to spend time with you.”

That was a good response – he could tell he’d chosen his words right by the way some of the pressure seemed to leave your shoulders when you exhaled.

“And,” you said, “how much of that wish is influenced by your need to prove to everyone that I’m not cheating on you?”

Jungkook smiled.

“Only a little,” he said.

“Well,” you grimaced – and his smile widened at your obvious dramatics – and then turned around to look out the window, “at least you’re honest.”

“I promised I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said.

You watched the students pass by your building outside while you considered your options. There weren’t many. You could either give in and agree to go with him now or you could spend another ten minutes listening to him try to convince you to come, only to agree then.

It didn’t seem fair to make him beg you to come – you didn’t think your company was worth that much and, in any case, you did want to spend time with him, even if you had no conditions of your own and would have gladly remained unseen by anyone else – so, choosing to give in now rather than later, you turned to face him again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go to that party with you,” you said and your words lit his eyes up. “But you won’t let this get to you anymore, okay? Because our plan was to let people think whatever they wanted to think. You said so yourself -- they’re going to talk no matter what we do. So, promise me I won’t find you by my door, all frustrated and determined to wait for thirty minutes until I come back so we can argue about this again. Okay?”

He was already burning with anticipation for Friday night – and most definitely imagining all sorts of scenarios of how the two of you were going to arrive to the party together – but he sobered up enough to react to your request.

“I can’t promise that,” he said.

“Jungkook—”

“No, I can’t promise that I won’t care,” he added, not letting you cut in, “but I promise I won’t do anything about it or… ambush you like this again. Or argue with you about this.”

That was good enough – better, actually, as your stomach contracted in tandem with your chest; it was like your entire body was vibrating now – and you decided that the worst was already in the past, so you sat back down on your bed.

You hadn’t gotten him to promise you he wasn’t going to care about the people you spent your time with -- because, what he should have cared about, was the way his own friends treated him -- but partially getting through to him was still more than you expected from talking to someone as stubborn as Jungkook.

“You didn’t ambush me,” you said softly. “It was nice of you to come and, uh, talk to me in person. Nice but unnecessary since there was nothing to talk about. But still, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook – who loved being appreciated, even as dismissively as this – suddenly turned bashful and tried to do some damage control by finding a yet another excuse for showing up here and waiting for you. He felt like he’d revealed all the most vulnerable parts of himself to you today, and he didn’t know how to walk away from that now, “I just wanted to figure out what we were going to do.”

You scoffed but not cruelly. “I don’t think we figured anything out. We’re still going wherever the circumstances take us.”

“Yeah, I guess, we are,” he agreed and then added the one epic excuse that would always extinguish the burning feelings in your chest, “but, at the end of the day, the only thing that really matters is that my parents believe we’re together.”

You were fine when you heard that his reasons for wanting to hang out with you involved proving a point to your peers. 

But hearing that the “only thing that really mattered” wasn’t actually enjoying each other’s company but, rather, convincing his parents that you were dating, hurt surprisingly much. You knew it shouldn’t have because it was true, that was what mattered, but you still found it hard to breathe for a few seconds after he said that.

“Right,” you muttered, your throat dry as you pretended not to be surprised by how quickly you went from “I want to spend time with you” to “I’m only doing this so my parents don’t disown me”.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, watching you avoid his eyes and fearing that he may have taken his personal damage control too far. “Okay. So, it’s settled then. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Yeah,” you said, your chest – so full a minute ago – hollow now, “eight is fine.”

keep reading | masterlist

[justcourttee]

New prompt idea! Following the defeat of Hawkmoth, Jason is terrified of the idea of Bruce adopting the sunshine child that is Adrien (that and all the puns that the boy makes... Adrien can't meet Dick!!!). He, alongside Damian, decide to try to get Selina to adopt a new cat instead. Unfortunately for everyone (except Adrien), Jon tags along. AdriJon for the ship and maybe Marinette being having a sibling relationship with the Wayne children?

I’m back to writing and when I saw this prompt, I was so excited. If it hasn’t been hinted at enough in some of my pieces, I adore AdriJon. I hope you like it! @elements1999

Stupid Lovestruck Jon

As Gabriel Agreste was drug from his front gates, the crowds surrounding the manor erupted in yet another round of cheers. Even with the hero’s help, the police had trouble keeping them back. Jason and Damian stood on the edge, both wearing matching grim expressions under their hoods and glasses.

“You know what this means D?”

Damian nodded solemnly, the scowl on his face deepening as Gabriel disappeared from their view.

“Father mustn't meet Agreste until we have found a suitable host family for him.”

The idea of Dick and Adrien bonding over stupid puns and forcing Jason and Damian to join in on family game nights was enough to send shivers down the two Wayne’s backs. There was no question about it, Adrien could not be allowed to be adopted.

“What do you think Selina would say if we brought her a kit?”

Damian shifted his gaze to Jason’s face, doing his best to hide his shock that Jason could come up with a coherent idea.

“I believe she would enjoy Plagg very much, Adrien though? Well, that would take some getting used to. How do you propose we get the two to meet?”

Jason’s face darkened quickly.

“It’ll be risky, but we invite them to America. After all, he’s going to need an escape from the media.”

“Perhaps Metropolis?”

The boys nodded as if that was the most logical sentence before both heads snapped up, their eyes widening at the sight of the petite hero that had landed between them. Marinette threw her arms around the boys’ shoulders, dragging them down to her own height.

“There is only room for so much sunshine at the Wayne estate. Dick has monopolized all of it and for the sake of not only you but myself as well, Adrien needs a more stable parental figure than Bruce Wayne. Not that my first choice would be Selena, but I know that she has a soft spot for orphans, no matter what she says.”

Both boys tried to wrestle their way out of her grasp, but it was nearly impossible with Tikki to help her.

“Here’s how it will go. I will go to help the police finalize anything they need for this arrest and you will trail Chat Noir until he decided to transform back. I want to be there as well, but unfortunately, the police aren’t exactly understanding when it comes to personal relationships.”

With a nod, the sound of two smacks echoed as she disappeared into the sky, the only trace of her being matching red spots on both of the Wayne’s necks.

“I really despise when she does that, no matter how much I want to be impressed.”

Jason chuckled as he nudged Damian forward, both of them slipping into the nearest building to change before anyone from the media could catch sight of the American’s on the scene of what would become known as the greatest arrest in Paris’ history.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“You know, I caught the trail of you following me a couple of blocks back. You don’t have to stay hidden.”

Damian let out a small string of curses as he stepped out from behind the chimney and into view of the black cat.

“I hate magic.”

Adrien chuckled as he waited for Jason to step out from the other side, both boys looking a little sheepish that they had been caught.

“Did Marinette ask you to follow me? Cause that sounds like something she would do. Really, I’m fine guys. Once we started the investigation, so much more began to make sense. He wanted to disguise the fact that he was selfish, wanting just my mother for himself, no matter the consequence. Even if it meant sacrificing me..”

Damian swallowed awkwardly as he glanced between Jason and Adrien. Thanks to Dick’s persistent pestering, he had gotten slightly better at reading emotions and watching his tongue, but this was uncharted territory and as much as he hated to admit it, he had no idea what to do.

Adrien let out a shaky laugh as he stood, brushing off the imaginary dust from his suit.

“Whatever, so what is Maribug’s master plan for avoiding the press? I know she sent you here to collect me for that very reason, so what could it be?”

Jason cleared his throat as he stepped forward, his smile completely see-through as the worry shined.

“Well, how would you feel about a trip overseas? Metropolis perhaps? You’re a huge Superman fanboy, aren’t you? Well, Dami here is besties with his son and we thought it would be a grand idea for you to have a distraction. What do you say?”

Damian frowned at Jason’s choice of wording. Besties felt a little strong for the relationship that he held with Jon, perhaps tolerable coworkers was better suited?

“Okay.”

Both boys tried to hide their surprised faces. They knew he was desperate for an escape, but his response was still quick for their liking. Honestly, they thought it was going to take a bit more convincing than that.

“Let Marinette know that I’ll be on her balcony whenever she finishes up. I’m sure she has a long night ahead of her and will want to talk to me when she can and guys?” Both boys raised their eyebrows, curiosity, and worry nitpicking their expressions. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

And with that, he leaped off the roof leaving the batbrothers to wonder if Metropolis would be the best idea for the man who effectively was orphaned in one day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Dami!”

Before he even had a chance to throw his hands up in defense, Jon had already tackled him in a bone-crushing hug much to his annoyance.

“I told you not to call me by that stupid nickname anymore Kent.”

With much effort, Damian shoved Jon off and into Marinette’s waiting arms.

“Aw, but Dami it’s so cute.” The muffled laughter coming from behind him was not helping.

Damian cut his eyes to where Jason and Adrien stood, both chuckling to themselves. He knew it was Jason’s idea to call up Jon to make this impromptu trip more believable for his father, but when breaking it down, Damian wasn’t completely sure that this option was much better than taking Adrien straight to Dick’s side.

“Anyways, I know I’m just the cover story so that you can meet up with Selina and all that, but do you have time to spare? I’d love to show Mari and Adrien around Metropolis! That’s your name, right? Adrien? Mari used to have so many cutouts of you-”

A smack echoed through the airport lobby as Jon found himself in a headlock courtesy of one petite heroine.

“Oh, you wanna bring that up now Jon? I don’t suppose you remember asking for a couple of my magazines for yourself huh?”

There was an undeniable shade of red emitting from under Marinette’s arm, one all three boys noted. A sputtering Jon finally managed to free himself, the red more visible as he gently pushed Marinette away.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s the cost of being a celebrity right?” Adrien reached out, his hand gently brushing Jon’s arm.

A sudden realization hit Damian as he watched his friend jump nearly 100 feet into the air, the red seemingly brighter than before. As Jon linked arms with Marinette, hurriedly leading them out of the airport, Adrien gently coaxing the two to behave, Damian gripped Jason’s jacket pulling the two of them to a stop.

“What do you want brat? We’re gonna get left behind-” With one killer glare, Jason slowly quieted, curiosity seeping into his expression.

“Jason, is uh- does Jonathon- does he see guys as viable mates?”

There was a slight pause and for a moment, Damian felt a bit relieved that perhaps he was not the only one to fail to notice such a thing about the Kent boy. But the moment ended abruptly as Jason erupted in laughter, drawing the attention from some passing by.

“What is it you buffoon? People are staring at us, silence yourself, and answer me.”

“Me buffoon? No, no, no” Jason’s laughter slowly ceased, but the shit-eating grin that replaced it did nothing to ease Damian’s nerves. “You see, you are the only idiot here. What is Jon? An animal? His mating preference?”

Damian felt his face heating up as his grip tightened on Jason’s jacket, intent on tearing a small hole in his precious belonging.

“Now Damian, I know you are dense, but Jon has always talked about guys with you. Did you just think they were all besties? That your third-wheeling on his dates where they gave each other like pecks on the cheek or held hands was just because you hate physical contact and his other friends didn’t mind it?”

The more Jason talked, the redder Damian felt his face becoming. Sure he had noticed before, but it never felt like it was something that mattered much. Plus, it wasn’t like Jon had mentioned anything to him about coming along on his supposed dates. How was he supposed to know?

Letting go of Jason’s jacket, Damian huffed after his friends, ignoring his brother’s taunting calls. There was only one thought that was still left on his mind.

If Jon had a crush on Adrien Agreste, this could ruin the whole plan.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was right.

What was implied to be a one day tour ended with them staying a week in Metropolis. And the worst part? Damian was completely powerless to do anything about it.

“Hey enfant démon, you seen my partner or yours for that matter?”

Damian scowled at Marinette as she leaned against his doorframe, her expression as exasperated as he felt.

“I told you to quit calling me that. Just because it’s in French doesn’t make it better heathen.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him, remaining firm in her spot as she waited for her answer. With a great sigh, Damian shook his head, glancing from his book to out the hotel window.

“They snuck out sometime early this morning while I was on my run. Jason was supposed to be keeping an eye on them.”

A slight protest echoed through the suite as Marinette shook her head.

“Do you think we’ll ever get Adrien to meet Selina at this rate? I know he needed this break, but I hadn’t expected to be gone this long. I just turned 17, if it wasn’t for Jason here being a technical adult, my parents would have never let me come. I’m honestly surprised that they haven’t shown up to drag me to Paris.”

Damian nodded slightly, his thoughts straying to the idea of an angry Sabine showing up at their hotel. The thought alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. He opened his mouth, unsure how to respond when he caught the sound of a set of familiar giggles outside the suites’ door.

“We’re home! Marinette! You won’t believe how awesome the sunrise in Metropolis is when you’re so high up. Jon is awesome!”

The boy tried his best to hide his blush as he gently swatted Adrien’s shoulder, earning a giggle from the blonde.

“Okay lovebirds, how about you stop running off without the rest of us? At least tell us where you’re going, is that too much to ask?”

A simultaneous ‘yes mom’ came from the duo as they ducked out of Marinette’s reach, racing down the hallway.

“That’s it, I’m calling Selena right now. Damian, Jason, between the two of you, figure out a way to keep our rebellious teens in check. It shouldn’t take longer than thirty minutes for her to arrive, I’m sure the two of you can manage.”

Jason peeked his head into Damian’s room, his eyebrows raised matching how Damian felt. Did she have any idea how hard it was to hold down a Kryptonian without using Kryptonite? If only she hadn’t banned Damian from bringing it to Metropolis.

With a small huff of annoyance, Damian swung his legs off his bed, placing his book back on the nightstand carefully. This was going to be the longest thirty minutes of his life.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Dammit children, can’t you sit still for one minute!” Jason gripped both boy's collars as he tossed them back onto the couch that they had escaped from.

“Aw, c’mon Jason. I thought you were the fun Wayne! I just want to show Adrien a good time before he had to leave.”

Damian wasn’t sure how much more Jason could take. The vein on his forehead looked like it was about to burst from him resisting beating the two to a pulp. It was honestly a bit satisfying to look at.

“Can you at least explain why we’re on house arrest? The day has just started and we’re already wasting it.”

“I told you already Agreste, Marinette wants you to meet a friend of hers that lives nearby. We can’t have you skipping out before she gets here.”

Adrien sighed dramatically before falling into Jon’s shoulder.

“But waiting is boring!”

Damian felt his nose twitch while staring at the blonde. Honestly, he didn’t know how Marinette was able to keep up with this child-like energy for all the years she had. He was exhausted after a mere thirty minutes.

The sound of the doorknob rattling caught the attention of the four as a collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

“Well hello there my kittens, long time no see.” Within a split second, Selina was already on top of Damian, pulling him into the biggest hug she could manage.

“Release me you heathen, I do not like being touched!”

Selina giggled as she tightened her hug before releasing him, allowing him to drop to the floor.

“Oh, I know. I enjoy giving you a hard time the most Damiboo.”

Damian cringed at the nickname as he allowed Marinette to help him back to his feet. While Selina was unbearable, he honestly had to applaud Jason for his thought. If anyone could reign in the energy Adrien had, it would be her.

“You must be Adrien. I’m Selina Kyle, so very nice to meet you.”

Adrien swallowed hard as he tentatively reached out his hand to shake hers. No one could blame him, the look on Selina’s face was terrifying as if she was admiring a jewel before shattering it into pieces.

“Now let’s cut to the chase. Do you want to live with me? You obviously need a parent figure in your life, but you also only have a year left until you can be on your own. I know it’s a big change from Paris, but between Zeta tubes and that little horse your friend Marinette carries, you’ll never be too far.”

Damian bit his lip hard, trying not to yell at Selina for her brashness. She was supposed to be gentle and coaxing. Get him to like her, spend the day with him, and then suggest it. Adrien looked as white as a ghost, as expected when someone you’ve only heard stories about shows up in your hotel room with adoption papers.

“Uhm, I don’t really want a guardian. My aunt said she would rent me an apartment wherever I wanted and when the time came for my 18th birthday, she’d sign it over to me-”

Adrien was cut off as Selina placed a finger over his lips, shocking him into silence.

“Honey, I can do that for you. Don’t rely on family who will want to steal your father’s fortune. However, I will have a few conditions.”

Adrien nodded slowly, his eyes glancing around frantically as if asking for help.

“First, you must visit Wayne Manor once a week for a family dinner, I refuse to let you off the hook with no real resemblance of a family. Second, you must rent here in Metropolis where you already have a good person looking out for you. And third, you must force Damian and Jason to participate in these once a week dinners.”

Jason and Damian shouted frantically for him to decline, their plans falling to pieces before them. They only quieted down after Marinette reached back giving them matching red bumps on their foreheads.

“What do you say, sweetie? I can tell you and Jon are already close and I think this would be best for everyone. You had already finished your studies in France so you can take this year to decide what you want to do next in life and I think between the Kents and us, we can help you with that.”

It took less than a minute for Adrien to agree and for Damian and Jason to be bested by two black cats. Selina insisted on lunch to celebrate, dragging Adrien and Jon with her and out the door leaving the three exhausted crusaders behind.

“Well, technically Bruce won’t be the one adopting him.” Marinette shrugged before plopping on the couch, the other two following suit.

“Yeah, but like, we went through all this trouble to stop Dick and Adrien from meeting, and now we will be having weekly dinners with them. Marinette, you are officially forced into this agreement as well.” Jason poked at her side, a small sigh of defeat escaping from his lips.

“Stupid lovestruck Jon.” Marinette and Jason turned their attention to where Damian sat, his arms crossed in annoyance. “I bet if they hadn’t had this week to hang out, Selina wouldn’t have picked up on their stupid crushes. Why do you women always feel the need to meddle?”

The air was silent for a moment before laughter erupted from Damian’s right side. Shaking his head, he couldn’t help the small giggle that came from his own mouth. Stupid Jon, making him attend family dinners with the likes of Dick and Adrien. He was happy for him, not to be confused with the utter annoyance he felt for him at the moment as well.

As they sat there joking about their shared fate and pondering how it could’ve gone differently, one thought was constant across all three of their minds:

Who could’ve planned for stupid lovestruck Jon?

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[skiller0dani]

Commands | Kylo Ren

M A S T E R L I S T Star Wars Masterlist

smut requests info

I just adore this little squishy violent man with all my heart. also ouch my heart :( not sure if I like this. could be better. could be longer. I’m sorry don’t leave me please keep reading my stuff D:

137 days. 

You counted the tally marks littering the walls of your cell aboard the Command Ship for the First Order. You leaned your head back against the wall, in all your time here you hadn’t been in contact with anybody other than the Stormtroopers that guarded your cell. You’d caught a quick glimpse of the Supreme Leader- Kylo Ren. His helmet was cracked, welded together but the cracks glowed an ethereal red. He was clad in black, like he always was and he barely threw a glance your way as you were hauled to your cell. 

Since then you’d never seen another soul except for the single Stormtrooper stood outside the cell door. You’d assumed they took you because of your brief affiliation with the Rebellion. You’d been a pilot with the Rebellion before you decided you’d watched enough of your friends die at the hands of the First Order. You couldn’t take it anymore, so you did what cowards did. You ran. You weren’t proud of what you did, and it seemed the Universe had a fit punishment for you as you’d been taken by the First Order not long after running. 

Something about Kylo Ren both intrigued and unsettled you. He had a presence to him, like a dark cloud that clung to his very being. You weren’t sure if that was because of the darkness looming in his soul, or the physical sensation of the Force all around him. Either way, it made you want to run to him and away from him. Whatever it was, it was completely intoxicating. 

But if there was one person on this Ship that unsettled you more than any other man had before- it was General Hux. He didn’t unsettle you in a curiously dangerous sort of way, not in the way Kylo did. No, he unsettled you in the way that made you feel sick in his presence, he unsettled you in a way that led you to believe you were in imminent danger any time you were near him. 

Kylo unsettled you only because of the affect he had over your body without even looking into his eyes. Just him being around you took over your every coherent thought and filled the empty spaces in your mind with nothing but him. Hux made you want to hide from him, hoping he would just go away. You watched the way Hux’s eyes undressed you, the way his fists curled into his sides upon seeing you, and you definitely noticed the tent form in his trousers as he would linger outside your cell. It made you feel gross all over your body, as if he was touching you without laying a single hand on you. The only hands you wanted on you were Kylo’s, which upset you for an entirely different reason. 

Kylo was an enemy to the Rebellion, he’d killed thousands of innocents. Your mind logically knows what kind of man he is, but your body betrays you in its lust for his skin on yours. You shouldn’t want him, yet you do. You should hate him, you want to hate him but you don’t. You feel pity for him, even though it was his actions that led him down this lonely road. He did this to himself, but your heart doesn’t seem to care who’s fault it is. You just want to help him. 

“You’ve been summoned.” The Stormtrooper’s voice cuts into your thoughts. You blink up at him before scrambling to your feet. Feeling handcuffs secure around your wrists you’re hauled into the hallway and stood in front of the man you were least hoping to see. General Hux. You swallowed a thick lump in your throat at the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He said nothing as he took your arm and led you off towards the elevator. Your mouth is dry as you step into the elevator after him. As soon as the doors are shut he turns, his eyes look hungry as they scan your body. Your body tenses as he takes a step towards you. 

Hux’s hands press to the elevator walls on either side of your head, your back hitting the wall hard as your heart races in your chest. His lips brush against your neck and you feel a shudder of disgust run down your spine, and you release a sigh of relief as the doors open and he is forced to pull away from you. Hux takes your arm and begins to pull you down the hallway when you begin to dig your heels into the floor. Panic settles in as you approach a door at the end of the hallway, and you begin to tug against his grasp. You thrash in his tight grip, as he continues to drag out to the door. 

The door slides open and your panic is sent into overdrive when you see it’s his bedroom. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you slam your knee up into his crotch. Hux doubles over in pain, and you turn and sprint down the hall, not knowing where you’re going. This shuttle is a labyrinth. Your heart hammers against your chest as you take turns, hearing his boots slamming against the ground behind you. You turn your head to glance back at Hux, and this is when you slam into a solid wall of muscle. When you turn your head to look up at who you bumped into, your heart stops. Kylo Ren. 

His eyebrow cocks at the sight of you, in handcuffs, heaving for breath, panic laced in your eyes. Kylo feels his blood run hot when he sees who chases you. “S-Supreme Leader.” Hux heaves, struggling to catch his breath. You feel frozen in place as Hux stands rigid, his eyes on you. “I was just escorting this prisoner when she attacked me.” Hux hissed. 

You have no clue what compelled you to do it, and you have no idea why you blindly believed it would work. You threw yourself into Kylo’s chest, your cuffed hands reaching up to grab at his black tunic. Your body quivered in fear, “please don’t let him take me.” You whispered softly, so that only Kylo would hear you. Kylo says nothing, but he doesn’t remove you from his body either. 

“Escorting her where?” Kylo asks, one of his hands coming down to rest on your arm. Gently, he pries you off him and maneuvers you to stand behind him. Hux flinches, scrambling to come up with a suitable answer.  

“T-To questioning sir.” Hux lied unconvincingly. A dark look crossed Kylo’s face. 

“Where was he taking you?” Kylo asks, his question directed at you. You stand trembling behind him, “t-to his quarters.” You stammer, watching as the color leaves Hux’s face. 

“You were going to question her...in your quarters?” Kylo asks, the anger now beginning to seep into his tone. Hux stands stock still, his eyes wide and pointed straight ahead, his arms folded behind his back. Your eyes trail up Kylo’s back, and it’s just now that you realize he isn’t wearing his helmet. With nothing more than a twitch of his hand, Kylo sends Hux slamming against the wall. “You are not to go near her again.” Hux nods feebly, sliding to the floor when Kylo takes his gaze off him. 

Kylo turns to you, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before gently taking your arm and leading you down the hallway. Your heart rate slows as you follow Kylo through corridors before he leads you to what appears to be a plain bedroom. “From now on, this is where you will be kept.” He explains, your eyes widening in surprise. He reaches down, taking your hands in his gloved ones before unlocking the handcuffs. “T-Thank you.” You stammer quietly, and your eyes lock for a brief moment. Kylo nods curtly, and you swear you see a blush prickle at his cheeks before he turns out of your new ‘cell’. 

165 days. 

You hadn’t seen Kylo since that day, but your heart fluttered whenever you heard his name. When the sun would go down, your hand would disappear between your legs- imagining you and Kylo in lewd scenarios. With his head between your thighs. Him bending you over the bed. Him whispering sweetly into your ear as he drives into you again and again. You feel a heat sear through your body at the thought. You look out the window into the galaxy, your mind not drifting far from Kylo. If he’d fallen to the dark side, then why did he protect you? If he was pure evil, he would have let Hux have his way with you but he didn’t. 

Kylo. Kylo. Kylo. Kylo. His name bounces around your head as you cum on your fingers, your chest heaves as the shame settles in your chest. 

You hate the empty feeling in your chest when Kylo isn’t around, you hate the way you’re letting yourself feel for him. He’s not a good person, and you desperately try to remind yourself of that. Whenever you get lost in remembering the way his gloves felt against your skin, how it felt for him to hold onto you, you remember Han. You remember seeing Han with the lightsaber through his chest, you remember that it was Kylo who was holding the lightsaber. You try to remind yourself who he is, but you’re not sure you know anymore. You lean back against your bed, the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

You hear footsteps approaching your room, but you’re not worried it’s Hux. He hasn’t even looked at you since that day. You were grateful for that, but you didn’t know why you were still here. If Kylo wanted something from you, he would have gotten it by now and if you were useless to him he would have killed you. But instead for the last 165 days you’ve been a prisoner, barely speaking to anybody. You don’t know what he wants with you, and you’re not sure you ever want to leave if it means being away from him. The thought scares you. 

When the door swings open, you sit up immediately with a blush on your cheeks. “Kylo,” His name slips past your lips before you can stop it. His eyes meet yours as the door slides shut behind him. Kylo’s chest is heaving as his eyes remain locked on yours. There is a thrumming coming from him, sending waves of vibrations through your body as he steps closer. “Every night,” He starts, his voice hoarse as his fists curl at his sides. Your heart slams against your ribcage as you realize he is only wearing a simple black tunic and trousers. “Every night I have to lay in bed and pretend I don’t hear you calling for me in your mind.” Your eyes widen in horror, he heard you? How? 

Taking a few steps, Kylo reaches the end of the bed. “Take off your shirt.” His voice is low and demanding. It makes your mouth go dry. 

The logical part of your brain shuts off the second those dark eyes look into yours, with that air of dominance practically pouring out of him. 

Your hands reach for the hem of your shirt, yanking it up and over your head. Your breasts are bare, and Kylo’s pupils widen as he sits back in a chair at the foot of your bed. Your expression falls when you notice that Kylo isn’t going to approach you. He sees your forlorn expression and the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Were you expecting me to touch you?” His voice is cocky, as are his eyes. 

“Lay back.” Another command leaves his lips and you immediately obey. 

You lay back against the soft mattress, your entire body buzzing with anticipation. You can’t see him, your gaze pointed straight at the ceiling. You feel a warm sensation tingle up your legs, across your stomach and finally to the underside of your breasts. You glance at Kylo to see him sitting in the same position he was before. Your mouth falls open as you feel something brush against your nipples. The Force. You feel your nipples being rolled and pinched by the tendrils of the Force that Kylo is manipulating to pleasure you. A soft moan escapes your lips as the sensation curls around your chest, and then suddenly you feel nothing. Your chest is heaving when you open your eyes, you see Kylo hovering over you. 

“For weeks, I’ve had to listen to you pleasure yourself while calling out for me. Do you have any idea how maddening that is?” Kylo’s voice is soft, and raspy. The tip of his nose brushes against yours as his hands dance down your sides. “Let me feel you,” You whisper, whining as you writhe under him. Kylo grinds his hips down into yours, creating delicious friction. You moan softly, watching as he yanks his black gloves off. “More Kylo.” You shamelessly beg, head spinning as he softly grinds his hard cock against you, both trapped in the confines of your pants. His hands find the band of your pants, and he’s quickly yanking your trousers down your legs. 

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” You ask through frantic breaths as your hands pull at the black tunic he’s wearing. Kylo yanks the fabric off his body, revealing his toned and muscular chest. The sight of his exposed skin sends a wave of hot, wet arousal between your legs. Kylo’s pupils widen when he sees the wet patch on your panties, throwing your pants somewhere behind him. “I don’t know.” He says honestly, his lips finding yours then. Your lips move in tandem with his, hands grabbing at him anywhere you can reach. Kylo’s hand dips into your panties, his fingers sliding through your wet folds. He groans against your lips before you feel tendrils of the Force sliding up your inner thighs, licking gently at your clit. 

“I need you inside me right now Kylo.” You beg wantonly, your hips grinding up into his as you moan again. Kylo says nothing as he reaches down to tear your panties from your body. Your hands fumble as they frantically push down his pants, watching with eyes alight as he kicks them off. One of Kylo’s hands plants itself firmly on the mattress next to your head as his other hand grasps his cock and leads the head to your entrance. Gently, Kylo pushes into you and you throw your head back in ecstasy. Your fingers grip the bed sheets tightly as Kylo begins to rock into you, his head hung low and his lips pressing gently to your neck. 

Kylo leans up to look into your eyes before pulling his hips back only to slam himself into you again, setting a quick and brutal pace. He holds your hips with a bruising force and you feel the Force groping your breasts and sliding around your body. You feel the coil in your lower belly winding tighter as you look up at him and he looks beautiful. There is sweat perspiring on his forehead causing his damp hair to stick to his face. A vain protrudes from his forehead as his hands grip tightly at your sides and when his eyes meet yours, you feel the Force all over your body. You cum without warning, your entire body tightening around him, sending him over the edge. 

“Tomorrow, you’re leaving.” Kylo says unexpectedly causing your eyes to snap open to look at him. 

What? 

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 8: Lessons in Seduction

Taking a moonlight bath in a lake near Kasugayama was a really bad idea. Trying to bargain with a strategist... a worse idea.

Notes for a future life: if the audience is screaming ‘don’t go into the basement, don’t go into the basement,’ then don’t go into the basement.’ Or in this case, don’t go skinny dipping in an unsecured location.

As I continued to curse my luck, Shingen looked at the ground, leaned over, and casually picked up my “towel.” (No, bath towels haven’t made their way over from Persia yet, but for simplicity’s sake, I’m mentally using the word towel, because it’s faster than using the phrase ‘large piece of fabric that I intended to use as person-drying-device’… and yes, my brain did short circuit into ramble mode because for the first time since we’d met, Shingen directed the full wattage of his charisma at me, and… it’s a lot. It was surprising that the water closest to him hadn’t started steaming. Yet.)

He examined the towel. “Not a mermaid then. A Moon Goddess, bathing in the light of her celestial sister.” Ok, there was a quarter moon out, I’ll allow him that one. Thankfully, it was no brighter than that, or I’d be worried he’d connect this me with Katsu.

Now leave me alone sir, before I freeze. It felt a lot colder once I was no longer splashing around.

He opened the towel and shook it. “Do you want this back, Angel? I imagine you do – I can tell you’re very cold in there.”

Yes, of course I want the - then my brain kick started with embarrassment. How exactly could he tell that I was cold? I sunk lower until the water covered my chin.

“Your teeth are chattering.” Oh. So they were. Ok. At least he didn’t see- “And,” he directed his gaze to the water line. “Other reasons.” I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you dead.” When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Could the developers please hurry up with the ‘kill you with my mind’ patch?

Keeping one arm over my “other reasons” I edged closer to reach for the towel, but he was holding it just out of range.

“I’m proposing a trade, Angel. You want this,” he shook the towel again. “And I would like one kiss from those very blue lips.” He looked at me, then the same slow smile that he had loosed upon the women at the teahouse last week spread across his features.

Why hadn’t I kept my eyes closed? His smile is lethal.

If I answered him, would he recognize my voice? Thanks to Aki’s training, I was used to pitching my voice as ‘Katsuhira’ lower than my normal tones. I should be safe, but I also had thought my bath would be uninterrupted and Mai had thought the water would be warm enough, so the women of Kasugayama were 0-2 in judgment today.

My poor judgment further manifested when I began shivering.

Shingen stepped closer to the lake. “Get out of there before you freeze to death. I’m catching a cold from looking at you.” There was an edge to his voice that suggested he’d come in after me if I didn’t hurry. Of course, if he really wanted me to get out of the water, he should leave me alone, but that didn’t seem to be on his agenda.

I raised my hand, and circled my finger, hoping he’d get a clue and turn around. He folded his arms and leaned back against a tree, clearly prepared to wait me out.

Right. Didn’t think that would work.

Ok. What were my options?

Plan A. I could swim to a further part of the shore and book it out of here. I was certain of my ability to outrun him, but I wasn’t keen on the idea of streaking barefoot through the forest. If Sasuke was leaking ground spikes again, I’d be risking foot injury – which would be difficult to explain tomorrow.

Plan B. Stay here and freeze. No, let’s avoid any solutions that would involve cryogenics.

Plan C. Game this thing out. After considering that idea, I realized he had left me a loophole.

I held up my index finger, signaling “one.”

“Right. One kiss in exchange for this nice, dry, warm, blanket.” He held open the towel.

Alright. I guess we’re doing this.

I took a deep breath for courage and bolted out of the water, zipping squarely into the towel he held open like a target. “There you go,” he murmured as he wrapped me up. His body radiated a potent heat compared to the lake water, making me aware just how close I had come to courting hypothermia. He briskly rubbed my back and shoulders, then grabbed a corner of the towel and scrubbed it over my hair a few times. Maybe he had truly been concerned that I would freeze.

Then he leaned closer, his voice scorching my ear. “Kiss me, Angel.” He brought that beautiful face closer to mine.

I rose up on my tiptoes and at the last moment, changed the angle to briefly kiss his cheek. (Loophole!). I almost laughed at his chagrined expression.

Then I pulled back and tugged at the towel. He did not let go. Again, I tried to pull away. “That didn’t count,” he said.

Risking a verbal response, I said, “You didn’t specify where you wanted to be kissed.”

“She speaks!” He ran his thumb across my lips, his touch doing much to counteract the cold of the lake. With a smile, he continued. “You are correct, Angel, I did not specify.”

I gripped the towel to my body and again tried to leave, but his arms were firmly wrapped around me. Though I wasn’t frightened, I was annoyed enough to give him my best glare.

He tapped my nose with his finger. “Our agreement was for one kiss in exchange for the blanket. You are holding the blanket, are you not?”

I was, but…

“If you wanted to leave with the blanket, you ought to have specified.” Then he winked (!) at me.

One, all.

Forgot I was dealing with a strategist. Let’s try this again. I drew myself up to my full height and spoke with as much dignity it was possible to muster when wearing only a towel and a warlord. “I would like to leave right now with the … er, blanket, alone, and be assured that you won’t follow me.” That, hopefully, would cover all contingencies from sneaky warlords.

“An Angel who negotiates. I’m intrigued.” He pulled me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head. I made a half-hearted attempt to scoot away, but he massaged more warmth into my shoulders. “You’re still shivering. I’m only trying to warm you up.”

Yeah. No one with half a brain would believe that one. Even the chorus of crickets in the background was going, ‘nope, nope, nope.’ “And next, you’re going to try and sell me a castle that you don’t own?”

I could sense him smiling into my hair. “You opened the negotiation with three requests. One proper kiss of a suitable duration, per request – for a total of three kisses.”

“I can count,” I muttered. If I had to kiss him, then at least then I would know what it was like to kiss him, and I could stop wondering. I’d have to stop at one kiss though – one kiss, then this ‘Angel’ was going fly away forever. I felt a slight pang of disappointment about that, but staying with him too long only increased the chance that he’d find out that ‘Angel’ was also ‘Katsu.’ So. That was that. I counter-offered with, “One for the lot.”

“Two. Two proper kisses of a suitable duration.” He lifted a clump of wet hair out of my eyes, flicking it behind my ear.

That … was vague. Too vague. I leaned back and looked at him. “What do you mean by a proper kiss of-”

I got almost through that question and that Star Wars Fish Alien whose name I can’t remember broke through my obviously hypothermic brain (I normally would not have made such a stupid miscalculation), yelling ‘it’s a trap!’ then Shingen said, “Like this” and closed the gap between our mouths.

Oh.

Oh!

He really is good at this.

His lips glided over mine, gently at first, merely brushing past before pausing, hovering, almost touching, but not. Maybe I should have moved, but instead, I held my breath, until he pressed his mouth to mine again. He held me firmly against his body, but didn’t try to overpower me, and as I relaxed into his kiss, he brought one hand up to cup my cheek.

His hair tickled the back of my hand - only then did I realize I had put my arms around his neck to bring him closer. He took his time, acting like he wanted to savor me, like I was one of those pastries he loved so much. And with that image, came the taste of sugar – I don’t know if he actually tasted like sugar, or if it was because I associated him with pastries – but I had not expected such sweetness in his kiss.

Then he flicked his tongue across my lower lip and nipped at it. Surprised, I gasped, and he slipped his tongue inside my mouth. He placed his hand on the back of my head to draw me closer still. His kiss was warming all over, defrosting my lake frozen-body, and I wanted to get closer to that warmth, let it burn through me even, and that was my last coherent thought for a while and I went with it.

Yes. Him. Now.

Then bargains and agreements went out the window, as he slid his mouth down to the base of my throat and pressed a kiss to it that had me catching my breath in a moan and I grabbed his shoulders to keep from sliding to the ground in a boneless heap.

“I knew you’d like that, Angel,” he murmured. There was both laughter and triumph in his voice, and finally my brain woke up and broke free of that seductive hold.

Angel. Goddess. He wasn’t kissing me. He didn’t know me. I could have been any woman. The realization, as cold as the lake, help me retake control of my senses.

No, I would take my chances with the ground spikes.

Flipping the towel up and over his head, temporarily blinding him and tangling him up in fabric; I used that element of surprise to make a run for it.

I dashed through the underbrush, then swung up into the tree I had secreted my clothing in earlier. In a flash (literally), I was sitting on a thick branch, clutching the bundle of ‘Katsuhira’s’ clothes like a security blanket. I pressed my hand to my mouth to silence my rapid breathing – my lips were still tingling from his kiss.

Somewhere below me, Shingen was crashing through the trees, calling for “Angel”.

The calls stopped suddenly with a muttered oath.

Watch out for ground spikes.

*******************

Luckily, the night guards didn’t examine me too closely when I returned to the castle, my damp hair tucked into my clothes and creating a giant wet spot on my back. They were used to Shingen’s staff coming and going at all hours. Once inside, though, I had the sense that someone was watching me as I hurried through the corridor to my room. I paused, looked around, and noticed that a doorway that had been closed when I passed it a moment ago was now cracked open.

After a brief mental debate – I was wet and armed with only a dagger – I crept back, and peered through the tiny sliver of open space. It appeared to be a storage room, I couldn’t see anyone in it, though they could be lurking behind the door. I listened for movement, breathing… anything, but the only noise I heard was coming from the corridor behind me – two vassals were heading my way, engaged in some nonsense argument over the best brand of sake in the area. Not wanting to be caught lurking, I gave up on the idea of investigating further, and returned to my room. I’d return to this one tomorrow and give it a thorough examination.

To my surprise, I managed to fall asleep without much difficulty, especially considering the effect my night swim and the aftermath had on my imagination. My brain basically just shut down in self-defense. I woke up once a bit later when my brain produced the name of the Star Wars Fish Alien (Admiral Ackbar), fell asleep again, only to be jarred awake again by the sound of my door sliding open.

I reached for the dagger I kept next to the futon.

“Don’t be alarmed, it’s just me,” Shingen stood in the doorway, a lantern in one hand, and a packet of letters in the other.

Actually, I found that pretty alarming. Had he figured it out already? Had ‘Angel,’ like Cinderella, left something behind?

He gestured to the messages. “Can you deliver these first thing?”

Oh. Ok. He hadn’t figured it out. “First thing as in right now?”

Please say no and go away.

“No, I’m simply dropping them off. It can wait until sunrise.”

Good. Now, go away.

My mind control was working about as well as it had earlier this evening – which is to say not at all. Perhaps I should have added the phrase these are not the droids you’re looking for to it?

He moved from the doorway and came into the room, and I was suddenly conscious that I wasn’t wearing the binder over my breasts, and that my hair, though pulled back, was still wet. I pulled the blanket over my head and rolled into a ball and did my best impression of a lazy teenager. “Will do.” I mumbled, trying to give every indication that I was nearly asleep again.

“You’re not terribly alert for someone who’s already legendary for getting up and around early in the morning,” as he placed the letters on my writing desk, then sat down behind it.

I risked Kilroying my eyes and nose over the edge of the blanket. “Being a morning person usually requires being asleep at this particular time of the night.”

He laughed. “Don’t mind me, I just realized I need to write another.” He grabbed some paper and the brush off the desk and I was suddenly glad that I was the organized type of person who did not leave incriminating things lying about. (Actually, that is exactly why I am organized).

As I once again retreated under the blanket, I wondered if maybe he had figured out my disguise and was torturing me for the fun of it, but the rhythmic and determined scritch of the brush across the page convinced me he truly was writing an urgent message. Finally, my curiosity won out, and I asked, “What’s going on?”

He bent over the desk, the light of the lantern turning his hair from auburn to burnished red. “I’m looking for a woman.”

“Aren’t you always?” I muttered, as I mentally swore at myself for asking. That catch-all nickname “Angel” still stung my ego, even as I rationally knew it shouldn’t. I hadn’t told him “Angel’s” name, and for all he knew, we had just “met.”

“A specific woman,” he clarified, the brush still scribbling furiously on the paper. “Part Mermaid, part Moon Goddess.” He mumbled something else under his breath that may have been ‘imp.’ Or limp? Well, he had stepped on a ground spike.

“What makes that one special?” Ego damage repair sequence initiating.

He rolled the handle of the brush over and over his fingers like a magician manipulating a playing card. “We were playing a game of sorts, and the next move is to be mine. But I need to locate her first.”

I needed to shut this thing down. Though it might be a good idea to learn what he had in store for Angel, so that I had a next move of my own. Or, better yet, avoid getting into a situation where a move needed to be made. “A game? Like shogi?”

“Somewhat, although I’ve never found that particular game all that exciting. But it does involve thinking several moves in advance.” He smiled, and I got very very worried. “Of course, if we play this game correctly, we will both win.”

I might be in trouble. I inched further under my blanket.

“What have the messages to do with it?” Did he write Angel a note and address it to the North Pole? Or the Moon, probably, because of that goddess thing.

“I’ve asked my mitsumono to search for her, as the lady is probably a spy.”

I am definitely in trouble.

He tapped the pile of letters. “Sorry to have disturbed you, Katsu.” And then he was gone.

Link to complete work, Twelve Lies I Told Shingen Takeda here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32812042?view_full_work=true

[monochromatic-ahhhh]

i like how in the previous part i said "i wanna see how far i can go" then i proceed to just....not go HSHSHSHHS this is fun tho i have to admit

See i | See ii

"You...you don't remember anything, do you?"

Okay.

What the heck is she dreaming right now?

"No. No no no, I-I thought you would be immune-"

He's still talking, but she isn't paying attention anymore. Is this seriously that kind of scenario? 'She lost her memories, oh will she ever regain them', why on earth would she dream that?

Suddenly, she felt literal weight on her shoulders. The teenager boy's hands brought her to be all ears.

"-ody, listen to me. Trust me, okay?"

Their eyes met. His was brown in color, but dark enough to be considered black. It feels weird that she was paying attention to that.

"This is not a dream. I swear. This is not a dream."

Ah.

She looked to the side. Sure. She'll totally believe that.

The boy retreated his arms and crossed them.

"Mel, don't you dare not believe that," he said in a scolding tone.

Alright, then. Hold on, Mel? Is that her name?

"Yes, that's your name."

He nodded as he replied. Okay, cool.

...

Wait a second.

She abruptly turned right to where the boy was sitting, shocked at his response.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!"

He held up his hands, signalling surrender.

"I'm not a mind reader, okay? Calm down. I just figured you didn't know what your name was, and I've been calling you Mel for a while now. So, yeeaaahhh."

Admittedly, that was a big part of why she was shocked. But what she wanted to address was the name. That's not her name. Despite staying silent under the presence of this stranger, which is what seemed like common sense, she opted for him to know.

"Actually, it's-", she paused.

........

Haha oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-

She can't remember what her name is. All right! So she does have amnesia, and this isn't a dream after all?

"What is it?"

The other person seemed to have noticed her stressful thinking. Weirdly enough, this guy seems nice, friendly and.....familiar.

Why does he look familiar?

Maybe she should just go along with it. If this is a dream, she'll wake up soon enough. If it isn't, she just had to make sure she can trust this young man.

"I was just wondering," she started to say, which immediately urged her need of food and water, "if it's not too much to ask, can you prove that I can trust you?"

She then proceeded to mentally slap herself, because why the heck did she ask for her freaking security so politely as if she'll take no for an answer.

She forgot this person, so he could either be a friend or a foe. He stayed at her bedside and didn't look like he slept at all. When she first saw him, he looked like he was just crying. So maybe they're close enough for him to be this deeply concerned. This boy also feels familiar. That alone is enough to conclude that she definitely stumbled upon this person before. But can she trust her gut feeling that screams 'He's very trustworthy'?

She should've slept it off. This much thinking is tiring her out. But as much as she wanted to completely disintegrate from exhaustion, she had to wait for his reply.

The maybe-not-a-stranger looked like he was thinking, but he definitely knows what to say. Maybe there's so much to say that he doesn't know what to state first?

"You," he finally said, "..you think bracelets and necklaces give you bad luck so we got matching earrings, instead."

That was such a ridiculous piece of information she cannot recall, but somehow she knew he was right.

He parted the ash-brown hair covering his ears to reveal small silver earrings shaped like puzzle pieces. Small silver earrings that she recognized. A pair of puzzle pieces she knew would connect with another.

The other pair they'd join with would be rose-gold.

She reached for her ears feeling for whatever decorated them. She couldn't see what they look like, but they felt like small squares. Puzzle pieces. Her earrings.

Her face must have failed to contain how awestruck she is because the person beside her, who witnessed the whole thing going down, tried holding in his chuckles. He then asked a question as if he knew how she would react to it.

"Do you wanna try and piece them together?"

HECK YEAH, SHE DOES!

Instead of stating coherent words as a response, she looked at him excitedly. Her realizing what had to be done caused her to behave.

"I can't take my earrings off without a mirror though," she stated, sounding more downhearted than she intended.

"I can take them off for you," he volunteered, "o-only if it's fine with you, of course."

He turned away at that last bit. Strange. He looks kind of pink, now.

"I'd actually like to go home first."

...is what she should say.

She should go back to her family because....well, because. That doesn't really need justification, does it?

But eventually, the words that came out of her were, "I'd actually like to go see outside first," as if it would be a place she could never recognize.

"Ah, of course! Don't worry, we'll move to a...more suitable and comfortable place soon," he said as he guiltily scanned the room like a butler who failed to provide the needs of the long-lost princess. "I'll just check if it's safe to go out yet-"

Dings and annoying vibrations in his pocket interrupted him.

He hastily took his phone out to check whatever caused it to make such a fuss. From the extreme and ironically careful scrolling the boy is doing, she assumed he was reading an abundant number of messages sent to him at the same time. Or maybe he didn't read all of them because he returned the phone to his pocket with a gentle smile on his face, perhaps satisfied with atleast one of the texts he received?

Considering his smile as the sign, she got off the bed and fixed up her hair with the gray hairtie she had on her wrist. The other person in the room seemed to be surprised.

"Something wrong?"

He smiled softly. "It's nothing, really."

There's definitely something. But before she could say anything, he went for the doorknob and frantically gave an explanation she never expected.

"Okay. So this might be crazy, but don't freak out. There's definitely a lot of things that won't make any sense and beyond reality but I promise I'll explain everything."

Well, that's comforting.

He took the lead and turned the knob. "You ready?" he asked nervously.

She shrugged. How bad can it be?

Apparently, she could never even imagine how bad it is because as the door opened to unveil what kind of view it was blocking from her sight, she threw away every hope of maintaining her sanity.

She has henceforth concluded that she has lost it.

[nordic-language-love]

Hei! I feel like you've been asked this a lot XC, sorry. How long did it take for you to reach this level of fluency in Norwegian? What would you recommend a complete beginner to do (something free, if possible. I can't order anything online and the current situation means I can't go out shopping either (and stores in my country won't have anything I'm looking for) )? PS: I've just finished the first checkpoint on Duolingo! Your posts motivate me everytime I feel down.

Hi there! No worries, I always like talking about learning Norwegian ^^

It depends on what you count as time spent studying Norwegian, because I’ve taken breaks from it and I basically didn’t know what I was doing during the first year or so lol. I usually say about 4-4.5 years. It’s possible to reach that level a lot more quickly though (I was reading a post on Norsklærer Karense’s facebook group and some people were like “yeah I went from zero to B2 in 3 months” lol rip) but for some people it takes longer. It all depends on the time you put in, how much exposure you have, how many opportunities you have to practise and how naturally you pick up languages.

As for free resources for complete beginners:

NTNU has a free course

Memrise is a good website/app with several Norwegian courses (I recommend starting with Norwegian 1, but there are loads of vocab lists on there)

Other apps include Drops and uTalk. I’m not big on Drops, but I quite like uTalk, even if the amount of coins you earn seems to be completely random (don’t be fooled into thinking you have to buy coins to progress!)

Lingohut has loads of lessons suitable for beginners

CALST is pretty great, focusing more on spoken Norwegian, and gives you the option to learn dialects (I recommend just learning Oslo dialect if you’re a total beginner, unless you’re moving to a specific area of Norway)

God i Norsk is a course in Norwegian for adult Norwegian-learners with lots of listening, reading, grammar and vocabulary exercises

Bildetema is also good for learning vocab and is available in both bokmål and nynorsk

Lesnorsk has lots of texts of different levels (I’ve linked you to the beginner level texts)

Norskpodden is a Norwegian podcast for beginners that comes with transcripts and games to test your understanding

Norwegian Teacher Karin on youtube has lessons suitable for beginners (check out her beginners playlists)

Norsklærer Karense is a qualified Norwegian teacher - her videos are entirely in Norwegian so you’ll need some basics first, but they’re a fantastic free resource (here you can find her videos specifically aimed at beginners)

Learn Norwegian Naturally is another good youtube channel

Here’s an English-Norwegian / Norwegian-English dictionary

Some other things I recommend:

Stick the radio on in the background while you’re doing housework/scrolling tumblr etc. You won’t understand anything at first, but that’s not the point - the point is to get you used to the rhythm of the language. I recommend NRK P2 as it has more talk and less shitty English music

Keep a journal. By that, I don’t mean write about your day in detail - obviously that’s not going to happen when you’re a beginner - start by writing things like “today is Wednesday. I wake up at 8am. I eat breakfast.” The purpose of your journal is to practise using the language, not to write coherent, connected prose with perfect or even good/correct grammar (my Finnish journal entries, for example, consist of 2-3 short sentences, using the only two tenses I know). You can share it if you want, but I keep most of my journal entries to myself.

Listen to Norwegian music. Search “norsk (your favourite genre)” on spotify for playlists.

If you haven’t already, create a langblr. Use it to reblog resources, vocab lists, posts about grammar etc. Write short posts and ask for feedback if you feel brave enough (it’s scary at first, but I find getting corrections is the most effective way for me to learn). Ask other langblrs questions about grammar and vocab (even if they don’t know the answer, there are usually a lot of native speakers lurking that are always willing to help!)

Sorry this got a bit long - I hope that helps you! Also, thank you so much for your kind words, and congrats on reaching the first checkpoint on Duo! I hope you enjoy your Norwegian journey.

[queen-ofsunflowers]

Ruby Rose of Class 1-A: Chapter Ten Preview

The ground was gone and all Ruby could do was scream. She grasped for anything — a classmate, something solid. Absolutely anything that wasn’t the black mist swirling and throwing her around. She could barely see anything in the dark. She needed something. She wanted light. She wanted something familiar to hold onto. She didn’t want to be in the dark anymore. She didn’t want to be alone!

Just as she felt like she was about to give up on finding a way out, the mist started to fade away. Light flooded Ruby’s vision, despite the fact that she was still falling. It took her a second to come back to reality. She was falling towards a building. She had to do something quickly, or landing was going to hurt.

Ruby flipped her body around, getting herself upright before spinning. With her Quirk active, she created a small whirlwind around her body… and a cushion of air underneath her. It seemed like a good plan in her head. But… it didn’t exactly worked out the way she thought it would. Ruby break through the roof and a few other floors instead of landing safely on the roof. She rolled onto the ground as she finally stopped, landing in a crouch.

Confusion swam through her mind. What just happened? What did he do? Where was she?! Her first coherent thought was to find out where she was. Ruby dashed towards one of the windows. Gazing out at it, she caught sight of a ruined urban area. And beyond that, the familiar glass dome of the USJ in place of a sky. She let out a small sigh of relief. She was still in the USJ. A USJ that was filled with villains.

Come on, Ruby! Think! What would Yang do? What would Dad do? What would Uncle Qrow do? What would…? Her mouth suddenly went dry. What would Mom do…?��

She didn’t need to ask herself all those questions. The answer was the same for every hero that she knew. They would stand up and fight. They would stand up and protect the students. The same thing went for Ruby in that moment. She had to stand up against these villains and fight to protect her classmates.

If she could find them.

Ruby shook her head. No, now wasn’t the time to think like that. She was going to find them. If she was still in USJ, then so were they. She just had to believe that. Ruby turned, racing towards the door. She ran smack into something, making her stumble back a few paces. She glanced up at it. It was a cane.

A very familiar looking cane in the hand of a familiar looking person. The man wielding it stepped into the room, his visible green eyes staring directly into Ruby’s silver as he smirked.

”Well, well, well… look what we have here…” said the criminal who barred Ruby’s way. “Hello, Red.” The color drained from her face.

“You…” she said, eyes going wide as she placed a name to his face. “You’re that Torchwick guy who tried to rob the store a few months ago.” His gaze bore into hers with hatred.

“And you’re the brat who got in my way,” said Torchwick with a sneer. “You know, it’s kind of embarrassing for one of the best criminals in this city to get their ass handed to them by a kid. But still…” His sneer turned into a smirk. “I managed to get enough people together for this little… job.” Ruby’s eyes widened.

“You’re in charge of this? This is your fault?!” Torchwick chuckled.

"Oh, kid, didn't you get the memo?" Ruby stared at him, feeling a lump form in her throat. She quickly swallowed it down before continuing.

“What are you talking about?”

“The League and I are going in a little business venture together.” Ruby’s heart skipped a beat.

“So, this is your fault!” she exclaimed, a bit of panic starting to bubble up in her chest. Did he… Did he come here just because she was here? “What is this all about?! Just because I ruined one of your plans?!”

“Not exactly.” Ruby heard a loud boom from nearby before the force of an explosion rattled the building. Bakugo. That had to be Bakugo. She had experienced him doing that first hand, it had to be him. Or at least Ruby hoped that it was. She made a mad dash towards the door.

However, before the girl could even activate her Quirk to make her getaway, Torchwick hooked her ankle with his cane and gave it a pull. Ruy was sent tumbling to the ground and flat on her stomach. Though dazed from her fall, Ruby managed to shake herself free. Well… looked like searching for her classmates was out of the question. Not as long as he was here.

Ruby quickly rolled out of the way as Torchwick tried to ring his cane down upon her head. She was back on her feet in an instant. Little bursts of speed kept her safe as she maneuvered her away around the room, dodging Torchwick’s repeated attacks as he tried to strike her with his cane. 

Eventually, Ruby made it to the door. She ran out with the help of her Quirk, ducking into another room and hiding behind a wall. She had to think. Everyone had a weakness. That meant Torchwick had one, too. Ruby just had to figure out what it was. Of course… that would be a lot easier if she knew what Torchwick’s Quirk was. For what she could tell, he hadn’t used one at all during that sall encounter.

Why isn’t he using a Quirk against me?! she thought, trying to come up with some sort of excuse  for Torchwick not showing it off. Was it not suitable for indoor combat? Is that why he couldn’t use it? But when they first met, Torchwick hadn’t used a Quirk against her either. And they were outside. So why…? It struck her then.

Roman Torchwick didn’t have a Quirk. That would explain why he wasn’t using one, and why the police hadn’t been able to figure out what it was. Because it never existed. It also explained his level of combat. He could fight without a Quirk. And he knew how to fight against them. And if their first encounter told her anything, it was that he could easily take her down despite her speed.

[feelingfredly]

Tea for Two

Summary:            

The joys of loving a mad scientist.

Or as Socrates said...  I drank what?

Notes:    

I wandered into the UraIchi Discord server and stumbled over a discussion of the absolute *crime* that there was no tag for "Consensual Tea Drugging."  The rest, as they say, is...  somebody else's fault. LOL

                “What does this one do?”

Kisuke peered around the corner of the cabinet and tutted.  “Telling you would skew the results of the experiment.”

Ichigo looked into the muddy depths of his teacup and muttered, “Like you’re not already skewed.” He sighed, “So, I just trust you and drink it?”

Kisuke paused for a moment.  Put like that he could understand Ichigo’s concern. “I suppose I could…”

A second later Ichigo was behind him, his front pressed against the planes of Kisuke’s back, and handed him the empty cup. “You should’ve just said. I’m going to go settle down on the futon with a book in case I get dizzy. You want to come take notes?”

Kisuke looked at the empty cup and then watched Ichigo as he wandered back towards their bedroom.

 Notes.  Right.

***

“Wheeeeen the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amor-aaay.”

Ichigo’s singing voice was quite nice, although his choice of song was suspect. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to lie down, Ichigo-kun?” Kisuke asked. He was fairly certain that not-tea-drugged Ichigo would prefer to keep his vocal abilities to himself, even if they were terribly entertaining.

Ichigo spun on the ball of his foot—the tea clearly didn’t affect him physically as much as mentally—and shook his head. “No way!  I feel great!  I feel so great that you should send a message to Grimmjow and tell him that I want to pound his ass.”

Kisuke’s lip quirked a fraction and Ichigo paused, rethinking what he’d said.

“Not like that,” Ichigo let out an undignified snort, “although have you seen his ass?  I mean, I know you’ve seen his ass, but have you seen it?” He sighed a little dreamily and Kisuke wondered just how much of Grimmjow’s ass Ichigo had seen. “I meant that I wanted to pound his ass into the ground, not the futon.”

Ichigo paused again and Kisuke could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as a sly smirk spread across his face.

“Now your ass is another thing entirely.”

Kisuke made a note in his journal.

***

The water pelted over them, Kisuke’s wet samue clinging to him as he washed the traces of sickness away from Ichigo’s pale face.

“This wasn’t what I signed on for with the whole ‘consensual tea drugging’ experiment.” Ichigo’s voice was rough, his throat raw from hours of expelling what seemed like everything he’d ever consumed in his life.   “Although the shower part is nice.”

Kisuke ran his hand down Ichigo’s flank, long soothing strokes, and hmmm’d. “I didn’t expect this reaction, either.  The tea was supposed to make you sleepy.  Possibly knock you out.  I bought a Sharpie to draw a mustache on you and everything.”

Ichigo let out a watery laugh.  “Only you would tell me that to try to make me happier with you.”

Kisuke wrapped his arms around the smaller man and held him, the memory of his recent misery an uncomfortable lump in his stomach.

“I am sorry, for what it’s worth.” The words were soft against Ichigo’s bare shoulder.

A quiet rumble answered him.  “It’s worth a lot.”

***

“I am absolutely positive.”

Ichigo stared into the teacup doubtfully.  “Is this like ‘normal people absolutely positive’ or ‘mad scientist absolutely positive’?”

Kisuke tilted his head to one side. “You do realize that as a mad scientist I can’t actually answer that question any way but the latter, don’t you?”

The redhead rolled his eyes. “You do realize that that kind of logic only applies when you’re avoiding the subject, Kisuke.”

That was true enough.  Kisuke shrugged.

“Let’s go with mathematical rather than interpretational, then. I am 95% certain that this tea will not allow me to analyze the contents of your stomach first-hand.  The +/- 5% takes into account any previously undiscovered intolerances, allergies, or hollow/reiatsu reactions.  Fair enough?”

Ichigo had swallowed the contents of the cup before he’d finished his explanation.

“Why quibble if you were just going to drink it anyway?”

Ichigo smirked. “Keeps you on your toes. Anyway, tastes better than the last kind.  Either going down or coming back up.”

Kisuke nodded. “I added a few things for flavor.”

Brown eyes met his. “I recognized the cinnamon and I thank you.  You know I like the taste of that.”

“Yes,” Kisuke said, gently guiding Ichigo out of the kitchen and down the hall. “I used cinnamon, star anise, and cardamom…  to hide the curare.”

Ichigo stopped stock still in the middle of the doorway. “Curare!?!”

Kisuke smiled and bussed him on the cheek.  “I love how smart you are.  You know curare? It’s surprisingly bitter and taken orally you must use a lot to get any effect.  It was quite the puzzle.”

He pushed Ichigo into the bedroom and down onto the futon that he’d rolled out earlier, just for this.

Ichigo looked around a little wildly at the made-up bed. “What’s all this?”

Kisuke watched him try to raise his hands. It wasn’t working very well, which meant the tea was.

“This,” he said, pulling Ichigo’s hands up and crossing them over his navel, “is a way for me to see how long the tea’s effects last.”

The redhead gave him a look, and Kisuke was pleased to see that neither his breathing nor his pupils had been affected.  Good.

“Lying here paralyzed is going to get pretty boring.  For both of us.  I hope you brought a book.  I’ll probably just sleep.” His words were a little slurred, but he was clearly coherent. Kisuke stood and started removing his clothes, pleased to see Ichigo’s pupils reacting to that at least.

“Oh, I had a better idea than a book.  You see, something that has always puzzled me is how intention changes the effect of certain drugs.   Someone with enough motivation can push through a lot of things, and it’s important to test these things under suitable duress.”

Naked now, he stood just in Ichigo’s line of sight. He trailed a hand languidly along the centerline of his abdomen, a track that the other man loved to trace with his tongue, and finally down to his slightly stiffening cock and then further to cup his tightening balls.

In the time they’d been together there had been many discoveries, but almost none had pleased Kisuke more than the fact that Ichigo loved, absolutely loved, to watch him touch himself.  His eyes would widen, and his breath would shorten, his lips would shine bitten and red as he forced himself to wait, wait, wait…  until he couldn’t wait anymore and would launch himself like a starving man at Kisuke, his hands everywhere, mouth hot and demanding, and then, only then, would Kisuke allow himself to come, preferably buried deeply in Ichigo’s beautiful body.

This time, though, Ichigo couldn’t pounce.  The tea would keep him still longer than his willpower ever could, and Kisuke couldn’t wait to see what happened.

He pulled a cushion over beside the futon and relaxed cross-legged, his cock now at half-mast, barely an arm’s length away from Ichigo’s face.

“Fuck, Kisuke.”

Ichigo’s eyes were all pupil, blown wide with desire as he forced the words through slack lips.  That gave him so many ideas. He gripped himself a little harder and played with the fold of foreskin that protected the sensitive glans.

“That will have to wait, Ichigo-kun,” he said with a soft laugh, “the tea, you know.”

Even drugged Ichigo managed a scowl. “You’re enjoying this.”

Kisuke looked down into the wide brown eyes and let his desire show. “Oh yes.  Yes I am.”

His fingers were cool against the heat of his cock, and the friction was enough to slow his stroke.

“You know,” he said, eyes drifting shut as he teased them both, “there’s a healing kidō that the Fourth uses.  It stops muscles from reflexively tightening and I’ve always wondered if there weren’t other applications for it.”

Kisuke reached across with his unoccupied hand and stroked along the length of Ichigo’s throat.

“Can’t you just imagine? I could totally remove your gag reflex. There’d be nothing to stop me from just fucking your mouth, and you’d be unable to move, unable to do anything but feel me.”

The groan that hung in the air could have come from either of them.

“You’re a bastard, Kisuke,” Ichigo said and Kisuke laughed, his hand stopping mid-stroke.

“That is not a surprise to either of us.”

He leaned forward and reached into the drawer of the bedside table, the ubiquitous hiding place for lubricant throughout three worlds, and pulled out the little stoppered jar that lived there.  He smiled softly at the gasp he heard as Ichigo sucked in a breath, watching as his cock bobbed mere inches from his face.

Kisuke warmed the handful of oil and gripped himself again with a sigh of satisfaction.  “Is this more what you had in mind when you agreed to my drugged tea experiments?”

He knew he was poking a dragon, but he couldn’t help himself.  He loved to hear it roar.

“More, yes,” Ichigo answered, frustration and hunger clear in his voice, and then a blaze of his reiatsu flooded the room, burning away the effects of the tea. He lurched upright on the futon, his hand snapping out to imprison Kisuke’s wrist, holding his fingers where they circled the base of his throbbing cock, a manacle of flesh and bone. “But not nearly enough.”

Kisuke smirked and allowed himself to be pulled forward and rolled under Ichigo’s hot body.

 Tea effects cut by 85% under duress.

***

Kisuke ran through the house, dodging occasionally thrown items, grinning like an idiot.

“Spots, Kisuke!” Ichigo yelled. “How did you ever think tea that caused someone to be covered in spots was a good idea?”

The blond stopped and turned. “I thought it would be useful if I could create a kind of biological camouflage.  Honestly…”

Ichigo cut him off with a growl, “They’re pink!  How the fuck would that be camouflage?”

Kisuke shunpo’d off again, grin firmly back in place.  Who cared if he got caught?  The pink was totally worth it.

***

“I think half the experiment is just to see how many times you can drug me.”

Kisuke paused in pouring the tea. “You mean like a trust experiment?” he asked.

“Maybe trust,” Ichigo shrugged, taking his cup.  “Maybe stupidity. I mean, how many times can you hand me something, tell me “this is going to do something to you, but I’m not telling you what” and expect me to do it? At some point you have to figure that I’ll say no.”

Kisuke looked at him thoughtfully. “That isn’t…”

Ichigo raised his cup and drank. “Don’t worry about it, Kisuke.  I mean…  I know you’d never agree to something like this, but it’s okay.  I don’t mind.”

The blond stepped forward and rested his hand on Ichigo’s wrist.  “You’re wrong.”

Ichigo shivered and looked down at the hand touching him as if he’d never felt anything like it before.  Apparently, the tea was working faster than his calculations indicated.

“Wrong?” The question came out strangled, like Ichigo was struggling to focus on the words.

“Yes,” Kisuke pulled his hand back leaving only one finger resting against the pulse stampeding through Ichigo’s wrist. “I’d drink anything you gave me.  No questions asked.”

Ichigo was staring at the spot where their skin was touching, fascinated.

“What does this one do?” he stuttered the words out.

Kisuke leaned forward, mere inches from Ichigo’s ear, to answer. “Hypersensitization.”

The keening sound that escaped Ichigo’s mouth was breathtaking.

***

Shunsui-san had a lot to answer for, calling him in for an emergency that basically entailed him saying, “No, I don’t want a Captaincy” fourteen different ways.  That might be an emergency for him, but it was decidedly less important to Kisuke.

“Long day?” Ichigo was standing in the kitchen as he made his way up from the basement. At least the Captain Commander wasn’t putting up a fuss about his senkaimon. Not that he could really do anything about it.

“After dealing with Kyōraku all day, I almost feel sorry for the people who have to deal with me.  All that duplicitous smiling.  It’s exhausting.” He leaned in and kissed Ichigo swiftly. The small affections were something that he still hesitated over, but Ichigo appreciated them, and that made them worth the effort.

“Tea?” Ichigo raised the pot and Kisuke nodded.

“Please.  And use the good white.  I need something subtle after a day of being beaten over the head constantly.”

Ichigo hummed his agreement and they pottered quietly around the kitchen while the tea steeped.

“So, are you going to take him up on his offer?”

Kisuke slanted a look across the kitchen.  Of course, Ichigo would know what Kyōraku was up to.  They were surprisingly close for men born a thousand years apart, and he’d seen the older man’s eyes resting on the redhead more than once.  It might be concerning if he didn’t know that Ichigo was as loyal as the day was long, but until the young man woke up and realized he’d hitched his wagon to the wrong horse, Kisuke wasn’t going anywhere.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said finally, reaching out for the beaker of pale gold liquid with a smile of thanks.  “I find that I like my current arrangements too much to go messing about with something like a new Captaincy.”

He sipped his cooling brew and caught Ichigo staring.

“You disapprove?” He took another sip, and yes…  there was something there. Something under the soft notes of the white tea.  Why that little sneaky…

“No,” Ichigo said, with a shake of spiky orange hair.  “I find that I, too, like your current arrangements.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow and tilted his cup, and Ichigo’s lip quirked a fraction in its own question.  A challenge then.  So be it.  He raised the cup, and never dropping his gaze from Ichigo’s, drained it dry.

“How long do I have?” he asked, and Ichigo laughed.

“Long enough, although you might want to take your good robe off.  Wouldn’t do for it to get messy.”

Kisuke’s mind traveled through all the ways that messy could happen like a bullet ricocheting inside his skull.

“Messy, hmm?”

Ichigo chivvied him down the hall as he shrugged out of his sleeves.  “Yes, massage oil tends to get that way.”

Mmmmm, massage.  That sounded nice.

“You knew what Shunsui was going to ask.” It wasn’t a question, but Ichigo murmured an assent.

“He asked me what you’d say.  I told him to ask you.”

Kisuke thought about that for a minute.  “Thank you.  For not answering for me.”

Ichigo pushed him face down on the futon—all made up already, look at that—and reached for the bottle of massage oil. “Not my place.”

Something warm curled in Kisuke’s belly.  It must be the tea.

“Still,” he said into the pillow that had somehow found its way under his head, “it’s nice to not be managed.”

Warm hands slid up his back and he could feel a chuckle through them.

“You’re much happier being the manager, aren’t you?”

Usually that was true.  Right now, though, he was fine with letting Ichigo be in charge.

“That’s good to know.” The chuckle got louder.  He must’ve said that out loud.

“You said that out loud, too.” Ichigo dug one of his thumbs into a tightly corded muscle.  He really should tune up this gigai.  With Ichigo around he was putting a lot more strain on it than in the past hundred years or so.

Ichigo laughed out loud, his scowl completely gone for once. “That tea was much more effective than I expected.  Maybe I should use less Diazepam next time.”

Kisuke considered the light and floaty feeling he was experiencing. “This isn’t so bad.  For being drugged.  With tea.  Really.”

Ichigo flipped him over and straddled him, rubbing the massage oil into the muscles just under his collar bones. “At least you aren’t covered in spots.”

“No,” Kisuke nodded, “no spots.  Just a little fuzzy around the edges.”  It was nice. He was safe. Warm.  This was much nicer than some of the tea he’d fed Ichigo. Although the hypersensitization one looked fun, even if Ichigo swore he’d never let him touch his cock again after that.  Kisuke knew he didn’t really mean it.

“That’s what human drugs will do to you.” Ichigo leaned forward and kissed him gently.  “I wanted you to be able to relax for a while.  I know the business with Seireitei is stressful.”

Kisuke groaned when Ichigo hit another cluster of tight muscles.  It felt so good for something that hurt so much.

“You’re too good to me.”

“You say that now,” Ichigo said with a laugh, hands still busily digging into muscle, “I doubt you’re going to be saying that later.”

“Why not?” Kisuke’s floaty feeling was beginning to tingle. Hmm.

Ichigo leaned down to whisper in his ear, his hands sliding suggestively lower.  “Because Xanax wasn’t the only thing I put in your tea.”

Kisuke shivered and made a note to himself.  This is what you get when you poke a dragon.

 Isn’t it wonderful?

[i-writing-is-hard-i]

Blood Traitor pt 11

Summary:  You are Draco’s older sister.  A pureblood Witch, without the prejudice and anti-muggle beliefs of your family. Who just so happened to fall in love with none other than a blood traitor, just to complicate matters more Voldemort has returned.  What will you do?

okay, I suck at writing descriptions,

[Disclaimer] Mentions of sex, violence, and hints of torture, I may have screwed up the timeline somewhere along the way, and no one dies, because, thats sad

[Begining]  - [Previous] - [Next]

Part: 11

The day after your conversation with Sirius, you were sitting in another room, sorting out things when Tonks stopped by.  Apparently, Andromeda wanted to meet you officially.  You were her niece after all.  She also wanted Sirius and Harry to come too, a family visit.  You agreed, curious about Andromeda too, your mother had mentioned her only a handful of times.

So the next day, Sirius, Harry and you made your way to her house cautiously of course.  Tonks and Remus had already arrived.  Andromeda greeted Sirius warmly, then she turned to you, who stood awkwardly in the hall.  Andromeda quickly wrapped you up in a hug.

“You look just like your mother” she smiled, “I doubt she said much about me though”

“Only a little” you replied.

Andromeda lead you into the kitchen, where she made tea.  Her and Tonks talked and talked, sometimes they would direct questions to you and the others, sometimes Andromeda would tell interesting stories about Sirius as a child, nice ones, even Sirius couldn’t complain about them.  It was really nice, it made you feel like you still had a family to rely on, of course, you knew you could rely on George this was different.  After another hour of talking it was nearing home time.

“You three are welcome here anytime, I know right now it is dangerous, but it won’t be forever” Andromeda smiled.  She gave you all a hug before the three of you returned to Grimmauld place.

Molly was currently in the kitchen preparing dinner, but they were leaving again in the morning.  It meant you wouldn’t be seeing George as often as you would have liked, but then again you were to start with your spying soon anyway.  

You decided to make your way upstairs for a bit, on the way up you bumped into Ginny.  She still hadn’t really looked at you much, but she was never rude, it was understandable, after what your father had done to her.  Ginny was on her way back to her own room, she seemed a little down.

“You okay?” you asked, regretting it instantly, it was none of your business.

“Yeah, just” Ginny paused a moment “Woman problems” she didn’t know what made her admit, but she did.  You gave her an understanding look, you had particularly bad ‘Woman Problems’

“Ah, oh I might have something that could help” you quickly made your way up to your room,  Rummaging through your back, pulling out a little stuffed bear, it was a heating pad.  You waved your wand heating it up, the bear released a soothing smell.

“What do I do with it?” Ginny asked when you handed it to her.

“Press it where it hurts, the heat mixed with the smell helps greatly, better than taking potions” you smiled.  Ginny looked down at the bear, before doing what you said.  The bear cuddled to her, after a moment Ginny smiled, it was started to work.

“I get really bad ‘Woman Problems’ always have, this is the best for it, plus you're getting a bear hug, that’s always nice” you spoke softly.  Ginny smiled at you, it was the first time,

“Thanks,” she said, turning back to head to her room.

An hour later Molly called everyone down for dinner.  George and Fred were already there, having just got back from work.

“Evening Malfoy” George smiled at you.  You took the empty seat beside him, George still felt a little-embarrassed showing affection in front of his family, so he simply held your hand under the table.  Shortly after you had sat down, Ginny joined yo, sitting beside you.  She still had the bear attached to her.  You could see the outline under her top.

“This thing really works, were did you get it?” she asked.

“Uh, do you know I can’t remember, it was a  little shop in one of the side streets of Diagonally” you replied thinking hard.

“I gotta get one when I am next there” she replied thoughtfully.

George looked over at the two of you, as your discussion continued.  He couldn’t help but smile to himself.  

After dinner you and George settled in your own room, as he worked on something for the shop, you flicked through the paper looking for jobs.  Sirius insisted on you not working, as it would be difficult on spying, but you wanted to have a nosey anyway.  Suddenly there was a quiet bang, followed by a puff of colorful smoke.  When you followed the noise to your boyfriend, you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, his face was pink from whatever came out of the thing he was playing with.  Not long after Fred came knocking, before you could say come in, he had already opened the door.  Your laughing fit only increased when you say Fred’s face was just as pink as his brothers.

They both glared at you for a moment before looking at each other, joining in with your laughter after seeing the same thing happened to the other.  

“Think we need to work on this thing a bit more” George pointed out and for some reason, they decided to pick your room to do it.

It was getting late, but the boys seemed intent on continuing, they were hunched over whatever it was they were working on, contently sitting on the floor.  They kept mumbling to themselves, but you didn’t really pay attention to it,  focusing on your book, but now your eyes just wanted to close, you had laid down, hoping that you could drown the boys out, but nope, it wasn’t working.

Eventually, you stood up, padded over to your boyfriend and sat down.

“Can I help in any way?” you asked, in a sleepy tone.  The two looked up, seemingly annoyed at the device in their hand.  Their eyes darted to each other, down to the device then back to you.

“Well, maybe?” Fred mumbled.   The two had excellent minds for this sort of thing, but sometimes they just couldn’t find the answer, maybe it was because they were too impatient.  George scooted over so you could get a closer look before explaining what it was.  You rested your head on him, thinking, a moment before a light bulb flashed on in your mind. You shared your idea, with them.  After a moment of them thinking, they tried it out.  Sure enough, it worked.

“You are a genius” Fred patted you on your shoulder.

“That’s my girl” George grinned proudly.

“Does that mean it’s bedtime now?” you asked.

The boys only then seemed to realise the time.

“Yeah, I suppose it is, surprised mum hasn’t come in yet” Fred jumped up first, said goodnight and left.  You still had your head rested on George’s shoulder, your eyes were closing.

“You wanting to sleep like this?” he asked, Kissing you hair.

“Em, no, suppose it’s a bad idea” you mumbled.  It was barely coherent.  George somehow managed to scoop you up, carrying you to bed.

“I think this would be much more comfortable” he smirked.  You snuggled into the pillow.

“Sometimes you are a genius, Georgie” you smiled jokingly not opening your eyes.  George rummaged around the room, getting changed into his nightwear before he climbed, you felt him snuggle up to you, whispering something, but you were too tired to hear it.

You slept right through the night, it was actually George who woke you up, with a sweet kiss.

“Morning” you mumbled, still sleepy.

“Good morning Love” George gave you another kiss before jumping up.  You remained in bed, watching as George got himself ready for work when he was nearly done, you jumped up and quickly got changed into something more suitable and together you headed down to breakfast,  Molly, Arthur, and Sirius were already there, with breakfast on the table.  Fred joined you shortly after.

Before George and Fred left for work, George made it clear that he would be stopping by as often as he could, since things had to go back to normal, with him living above the shop.  He also made you promise not to do anything reckless, to be safe.  You reassured him that you would be okay, that you wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.  Eventually Fred and to come and get him, or they would have been late.

After the others had their breakfast and were ready packed, they said their goodbyes too, before Ginny left she handed you your bear.

“All better now?” you asked

“I’ll be good” Ginny replied.

“Well, why not take it, for now, give me it back when you don’t need it” You handed the bear back to her,  Ginny looked grateful for it.  Everyone left, leaving you and Sirius alone.

[newgeht]

Binding Ink

Chapter 5 Summary: Everyone had a name forever embellished on their wrist. This was the name of their mortal enemy… Or at least it was supposed to be. Characters: Minerva Orlando, Lucy Heartifilia, Gray Fullbuster, Erza Scarlet, Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney, Yukino Aguria, Natsu Dragneel, Cana Alberona, Freed Justine, Levy McGarden, Jude Heatifilia, Lisanna Strauss.  Pairing: Minlu, NaYu, Jerza, Stingue, Frecana Words: 5590 Rating: T  AO3 | FFNet 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“Gray?”  

He stood in the clothes he wore yesterday with the small addition of cloth bandages. Gray’s face held small scratches, the inflamed red making his eyes darker than normal. His smile shredded with heroism but other than that he was completely unreadable and completely out of place in her sunny-filled home. That dark hair an infringement on the warm decor.

Lucy wanted to slam the door in his face but smiled instead. It was a bittersweet curl of her lips, the ice mage’s eyes filled with hope. “Morning, Lucy. You sleep…” He paused his eyes a pool of worry as they looked over her but the look should have been reciprocated on her own face. Gray obviously noticed how she was dressed, taking in her outfit. “You’re not planning on leaving so soon, are you? Jude made us breakfast.”

She pushed past him, unable to think coherently in his presence. Since when did her father make breakfast? And when did they refer to one another on a first name basis? Not only that, but why the hell did he let Gray stay? He had always hated mages, but for some reason he had taken a liking to Gray. Jude choose the ice-maker mage out of her entire group of friends. But at a fault, Lucy was always too nice. “I guess I can stay for breakfast. Minerva never gave me a time.”

“Minerva?” Gray questioned bitterly. He walked past her, opening the door to the kitchen, a gentleman when he really wanted to be.

Oops, Lucy thought. The smell of eggs and burned bacon filling her nose. She wrinkled her nose, the bacon not appealing to her senses one bit. “Yeah, she wants to take me somewhere. Is there a problem?” She stated curtly, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. She kept her back to him, daring Gray to answer her.

Her father stood at the oven, lost in his own world for now. He never was a good cook, mostly because he hated the hobby. Which is why she was so surprised he was taking up the reigns of making breakfast.

He sat beside her, shaking his head hesitantly. “I thought we could go out with Natsu and Yukino… But since you have plans, that won’t work.”

Lucy didn’t look at him. If she did, she would fall into Gray’s trap like she always did. It was how this predicament first started but there was no way she was going on a double date.They weren’t dating. Not even close to it. But she did miss hanging out with Natsu and she hadn’t seen Yukino in a while. “I can bring Minerva with us and we can all hang out together.”

Now she could hang out with all of her best friends at one time. “I can also call Erza to see if she’s available. She’s been very busy with guild business as of late. And I also heard that she’s seeing someone.” Keeping the conversation as casual as possible, Lucy winked at Gray.

“I’ve heard about it too,” he chuckled. “I’ve also heard that he’s a wizard saint.”

Jude cleared his throat and presented them with two plates. They were filled with broken sunny-side-up eggs, almost black pieces of bacon, and triangular slices of burnt toast. “Morning kids.”

“Morning,” Lucy chirped happily, already stuffing her face with the eggs. They weren’t seasoned at all. “Thanks for the breakfast, dad.”

He gave her a cross look and she began to eat in a more civilized manner. Jude looked at her with discontent, turning to fix his own plate. His deep tone holding a gust of austere. “You worried me last night, Lucy.”

She kept her eyes down, Gray giving her an awkward side glance. Lucy knew he didn’t really care, he was making plans to give her away. “I just went out with friends, and-”

“But you don’t come home unconscious and in the arms of you boyfriend.” Jude was frigid, his true personality becoming unleashed -a cold-hearted businessman.

Gray and Lucy stilled at the mention of being in a relationship. “But he isn’t-”

“She isn’t-”

Their eyes met as Jude turned around. “What is it? You know better than to stumble over you words, Lucy.” The jolly facade replaced with sternness and rigidity.  

“Sir, she isn’t my girlfriend.” Gray stated, his face tense as he looked at her father.

Jude gave him a cold glare, uninterested in his comment. “Nonsense, you two have been together since the beginning of your second year.” His face darkened, facing Lucy once again. “I can see everything that goes on in this house, boy.”

Lucy’s eyes met Gray’s once again, he knew about everything between them. Deep down she felt regret clutching at her, making its way up from the tips of her toes and seeping into her heart. “Don’t yell at him. I’m the one you’re mad at.” Lucy gained her father’s attention back, not prepared for his outburst.

“I’m afraid it does. Even if you claim you’re not dating, it doesn’t matter either way. It’ll end as soon as you graduate.” She shook her head, shame and misery filling her. Lucy looked down as tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she knew exactly what he was alluding to. He already found someone for her to get engaged to.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gray shifted. It was obvious he didn’t know what to do but he was managing. “Look, Lucy hasn’t done anything wrong. She was just out with friends last night, don’t yell at her for that.”

And in one quick second, Jude’s personality switched. Speaking to her with a soreness, “I’m dearly sorry, Lucy. But it’s the way things have to be.” Gently he pat her head and began to eat his own dish. “I’ll leave the two of you to clean up this mess, I have to get to work. Meet me in my office when you get home, Lucy.”

She didn’t acknowledge him, only listened as he left. His expensive leather shoes clicking against the hardwood floor, the door opening without a breath and shut with a voracious belt as he left. She gripped her firsts, sucking in the tears as best as she could.

Gray’s hand came down on her back, rubbing it lightly. She could tell that he was scared to touch her. His fingers barely ghosted over her shirt. “Let’s just go Gray. You still need to get ready.”

She stood up and picked her plate of food up, all appetite lost. Gray followed her into the kitchen, beginning to wash his plate as Lucy scrapped her food into the trash.

“Is he usually that much of an ass?” Gray took Lucy’s plate, dipping it into the suds.

“Ehhhh…” Lucy debated on what to say, her father took a drastic change after her mother passed. “He’s just stressed right now and worried about me is all. Being a big tycoon and raising a child isn’t easy.”

He moved the dishes to the drying rack, shaking his hands. Drops of water flew from them as he shook, drying the rest by wiping his hands on his pants. “You can talk to me, Lucy.”

Lucy ignored him, grabbing her car keys off the counter. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know, Natsu said to meet at his place.” Gray frowned when she picked her keys up. “I can take us, you know.”

“I’m not coming with you to the Fairy Tail dorms, Gray. I’ll meet you there. Now let’s go.” She was eager, her home gradually becoming a living nightmare with each passing day. The tension between her and Jude ready to snap at any moment. Lucy wasn’t ready to come home tonight, afraid of what her father might say. Afraid to face the reality she was raised in.

They exited her home, each going their separate ways. As Gray pulled out of the driveway, Lucy started the ignition, focused on the small screen in her hands. She had to tell Minerva something before she started to drive, otherwise she would forget completely. At her thumbs was the beginning of a message, but she kept deleting and fumbling with the words. She frowned when she finally sent the message to Minerva, worried that it wasn’t suitable enough.

Lucy: I’m going over to hang out with some friends, but I would still love to see you today! It’s going to be tons of fun, here’s the address…

Lucy overloaded the message with smiley-face and heart emojis, but she didn’t care. She hoped that Minerva would make it down to Natsu’s house, there was some things she needed to discuss with her. Backing out of the garage, her yellow Volkswagen Beetle raced and buzzed down Strawberry Street.

Lucy was absolutely pissed off at this point. The road to Natsu’s home was treacherous. The dirt rode to his humble abode held unsuspecting traps! It was full of rusty nails and potholes, her poor car wasn’t made for this type of terrain. She was such an idiot for even attempting to drive on it, and now her yellow bug had suffered.

The back left wheel had two nails stuck in the tire. They had punctured the tire and completely ripped it apart, leaving the wheel sad and deflated. Lucy could only imagine how much more trouble she would be in if someone had to tow the damned thing.

Shaking her head, she stood up from the car’s wheel and immediately pulled out her phone. Looking down she had no idea who to call, but Minerva’s name had popped up.

Minerva: Omw

The message was sent right after Lucy left the house and she smiled at the thought of seeing the enticing woman once again. She leaned on the back of her car, not sure of what to say in response but there was no need.

Coming around the bend was Sabertooth’s very own vibrant Volkswagen van. The car was bouncing as it came toward her, the boisterous music rocking the vehicle. Lucy waved at it in desperation, hoping that whoever was in there would stop.

It was like they had read her mind, the vehicle of rowdy students stopping. The door was violently thrown to the side and Lucy was pulled in by a pair of hazel eyes.

“Hop in, Blondie. We’ll fix your little buggie later, right now we have a party to crash!” Sting happily whopped in the driver’s seat and took off.

Lucy squeaked as the door wasn’t even closed, a pair of warm arms wrapping around her. Rufus stood in and pulled it fully shut as those same arms buckled Lucy in. “Nice to see you again, Lucy.”

Minerva’s voice sent a small jolt through her, hooked on the woman’s natural charms. Looking at her wistfully, Lucy spoke excitedly. “I’m sorry for the mess I caused last night, I didn’t mean-”

A silken finger was placed at Lucy’s lips, silencing her. “Worry not, Lucy. You did well and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but… Flare was really…”

The finger was back at her mouth and Lucy blushed. “You beat her by a long shot. That crazy bitch just decided to cheat.” Minerva was clearly pleased with Lucy. Once she mentioned Flare, the lines in her face tightened. Although Flare

“Yeah, don’t ya worry one bit, Blondie. Everything has been taken care of.” Sting turned to wink at Lucy, pulling up to Natsu’s small cabin home. Lucy knew something else had happened, but she wasn’t going to question it right now. There was no point in bringing drama to a friendly get together.

The door to the car was thrown open once again, startling Lucy. But wait… Sabertooth was never mentioned when the plans were made. “Hey Minerva… Did you invite these guys?”

In the dark car, she couldn’t really see Minerva but the day shed a small light on her. Lucy gasped when she saw the small cut on her lip. Surprised to see the bandages that were wound around her neck and the bruises that littered her arms. All she could utter made Minerva’s face go blank.

“What happened?” The boys from Sabertooth, stopping their chattering to look at the two of them. They backed off, afraid of what Minerva was going to say.

The scowl that formed on those busted lips made Lucy cringe. “I did some training with my father early this morning. It’s not as bad as it looks, I’m fine.”

The boys made their way to the front door, leaving them behind. Lucy stared at Minerva, not sure if it would be wise to push it. She decided not to and smiled, holding her hand out to Minerva. She walked past Lucy, leaving her hand empty.

Lucy’s first question was ignored but she trusted that Sabertooth wouldn’t mess anything up; most likely, her own gang would ruin this sooner than them. After all, the nature of her friends was a big ball of randomness accompanied with destructiveness.

Natsu’s house was small and quaint on the outside, just a cute log cabin. But once you passed the threshold, it completely different. There was expensive hardwood floors (usually covered with clothes), the nicest furniture sets, and the newest wizarding technology! On his regular budget, he couldn’t afford this -no one could. But his father, Igneel, left it to Natsu in his will. Once Natsu turned 18, he moved right in and had been living here for the past couple months.

The moment she put her foot inside, Natsu came barreling toward her. “Lucy! I told everyone that you would show, my best friend could never let me down. But that popsicle told me you wouldn’t be coming! But now you’re here, how dare that fucker lie to me.” He pulled her in for a back-creaking hug, lifting her up off the ground. “We were all so worried about you yesterday!”

“We?” Lucy stangled out, Natsu soon relieving her of his hold.

“Yeah, Luce.” Stepping to the side, he revealed much of their class. Levy, Cana, Freed, Wendy… Everyone who hadn’t graduated yet was here. Lucy smiled at them, walking further into the room. “You didn’t pick up your phone at all.”

Cana sauntered over to them, wrapping her arms around their necks. She pulled them close together, alcohol on her breath. “The betting pools were in your favor Lucy. You’re alive!”

“You guys bet on whether or not I was alive!” Lucy exclaimed, shrugging the card mage off.

“Well, naturally,” Cana quipped. She took a sip from her canteen, offering it to her. “But the good thing was that no one thought you were dead.”

Lucy ignored her offer, still annoyed. “That’s beside the point.”

Cana chuckled heartily, walking back to her previous place -Freed’s lap. Glancing around the room, there was two sides, Sabertooth and Fairy Tail. It was split almost down the middle, Natsu and Yukino the only outliers. Natsu had settled back into her side, pulling the celestial mage in despite her protests. Her face shone a bright red and Lucy could only gush at how cute they were together.

There were various snacks set on the coffee table, most barely touched. Lucy picked up a pretzel stick and munched on it, contemplating on what to do with her friends. If the tigers and fairies weren’t going to associate with one another, then she would make them. A small lightbulb appearing above her head, a small thought coming to mind.

“Hey Cana, do you have any non-drinking games?” Lucy inquired, grabbing some more of the breaded sticks.

Cana pulled herself away from Freed, that small canteen still in her hand. Her purple eyes flashed with playfulness, her lips pulled into a small grin. “There’s spin-the-bottle.”

Lucy shook her head, no way, almost everyone here was in a relationship. “Something else, you cheeky devil.”

“I think truth or dare should work,” a cool voice interjected. Gray walked in through the door, holding a couple boxes of pizza.

Most of Fairy Tail agreed but a head of white hair shook profusely. “I-I can’t play that game… It’s too…”

Natsu pulled Yukino into his side, reassuring her as he rubbed her arm. “Don’t worry, Yuki. The game won’t be that bad.”

Minerva chuckled and she leaned on the fireplace. “You fairies always make a big mess of everything. I can’t imagine all the possible ways you guys can ruin a simple game of truth-or-dare.” A couple glares were sent toward the dark haired girl but Lucy knew she wouldn’t be phased.

“Maybe we could try never have I ever…” Yukino suggested faintly, looking down at her lap. Her cheeks were seared red as Natsu whispered something into her ear. Her friend was always so bashful and shy, but she was proud of Yukino speaking up in such a large crowd. Natsu was really rubbing off on her fellow celestial mage.

“I love that idea, Yukino,” Lucy beamed. “Anyone object to this?” Her mocha eyes searched around the room, not one person abstaining to the game’s recommendation.

Except a certain blond from Sabertooth. “Wait, how the hell do we even play this game?” Beside him, Rogue facepalmed as Sting sat back in the love seat.

“It’s simple…” Rogue muttered, shaking his head at Sting’s idiocy. This small comment making the room chuckle. To Lucy, the two were like night and day -absolutely perfect for each other.  “Depending on what we decide, you hold a certain amount of fingers up. And by turn, one person will start with the phrase ‘never have I ever’ and proceed to say something random. If you have done it, you put a finger down. Whoever is left with the most fingers wins.”

Sting nodded slowly, his face piquing with foolishness. “So whoever wins is the loser?”

This caused everyone to laugh. Lucy caught Minerva’s small and delicate giggle through the boisterous guffaws of Fairy Tail and she swooned at how melodic it was. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull her attention away from the enigmatic teenager.

Lucy clasped her hands together, surveying the group. “I think we should just do seven fingers. It’s not too little and not too much, right?”

“We should just do ten, Luce! I wanna go all out for this!” Natsu’s eyes were lit with the force of competition. The blonde couldn’t help but shake her head at his vying tendencies.

A couple other agreed with Natsu, especially Sting. Sabertooth’s Class president held up both of his hands, “If we do ten, we’ll have more fun!”

This caused Rogue to flick his partner’s head. “Don’t be so ridiculous, we always have the option for one more round.”

Sting’s mouth formed in the shape of an ‘o’, standing down from his argument. “I think seven it is then, Blondie.”

“You’re a blond too, Sting.” Rufus muttered, his forefingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked miserable standing at the fireplace with Minerva. Lucy supposed that if he really hated the fairies, he wouldn’t be here. She knew that’s why their buff mascot, Orga, hadn’t shown. The guy only tolerated them at the beach.

“We should probably grab some food first. I don’t want the pizza to get all soggy and cold.” Gray had propped open the boxes of pizza on the kitchen counter, helping himself.

This was another consensus amongst the group, everyone crowding around the granite kitchen countertop. Everyone in modesty grabbed what they knew they could stomach, but Natsu and Sting grabbed entire boxes for themselves.

Even with his level-temper, Gray could always find a way to banter with Natsu. “Aye fire fuck, you know how much one of these pizzas cost?”

“Don’t nag on me. You’re the one who brought them to share, ice princess.” Natsu opened his box and shoved one whole slice into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open. He did it to spite Gray, the ice mage melting from the hot blood running in his veins.

His shirt was thrown from his body as he stalked over to Natsu, the door opening. “I thought you two promised no more fighting when I left.” Everyone’s favorite red head, stood with great confidence as she stood in the doorway; a blue haired man behind her.

Lucy squeaked when she saw the woman, “Erza!” The blonde practically tackled her, embracing the woman that was two years her senior. She had graduated from Fairy Tail as valedictorian, also receiving the highest honors from the magic council. Now she was working as an S-Class mage in the guild, Lucy had really missed her so much.

Gray and Natsu squealed in fear, embracing one another as the best of friends. “We didn’t think you would come, Erza.” Natsu grasped Gray’s hand in an awkward manner, shaking it as he spoke to her.

“Just as you thought I wouldn’t come,” Lucy drawled.

They were certainly surprised by her arrival, putting their best effort in to make it look like they weren’t about to brawl. Erza merely glared at them, glancing around the rest of the room. Her brown eyes stopped on Minerva, her stare narrowing. “Minerva.”

Minerva was still standing by the fireplace, proclaiming that she wasn’t hungry. She held a cup of water to her mouth, the tiniest amount of hatred sparking in her eyes, “Erza. It’s nice to see you once again.”

Everyone was frozen at the two’s interaction, waiting for the girl’s claws to come out. But Erza nodded at the tiger, clearing her throat as she stood to the side. “Sorry, for being so rude but I have brought a guest.”

A soft smile was set on the blue-haired man’s face, a large ancient-looking red tattoo set over his eye. He looked oddly familiar to Lucy, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. “It’s nice to finally meet you guys, Erza has many great things to say about you all.” At this, a small blush appeared on her face. “I’m Jellal-Siegrain.”

And Lucy’s eyes were met with stars, he sat on the magic council! Everyone else began to murmur good and bad things, not sure of how to receive him. Fairy Tail was never on the council’s good list, more like their hit list. Erza gave a small look to Lucy, telling her they would talk about it later.

To settle the group’s excitement, Cana began to speak. “We were just about to play a game, of Never Have I Ever. You two have to join us.” She winked as she looked at the two of them, sidling up to Freed’s side.

Jellal glanced at Erza sheepishly, his eyes full of doubt. The red head grabbed the blue-haired saint by the hand, both of their faces blossoming with pink. Fairy Tail bust into a melodic discord, sending good regards to Erza and Jellal. Lucy really was happy for her, Erza deserved to be as happy as possible. (Even if she was a tad bit jealous of the celebrity she sported on her arm.) Erza sat with Jellal on the floor by the coffee table, their hand holding about as elementary as it could get. She thought it was cute how bashful the were being about their relationship.

“Who's up first?” Erza inquired. Aside from Minerva and Rufus, everyone held up their seven fingers.

And as luck would have it, Natsu thrust his hand up into the air, startling his girlfriend. “I wanna do it! I gotta good one.”

Lucy gave him a thumbs up and his green eyes were fixed on Gray. “Never have I used ice magic!”

Gray grit his teeth, raising his fist at Natsu. “You can't just target people like that, tabasco breath.”

“Uhm…” Levy breathed out, only holding six fingers up. “Technically, I've used ice magic before.”

The ice-maker mage in defeat curled up one his fingers. “Have it your way then.”

Natsu looked to the side of him, poking Yukino. Her brown eyes widened as she was put on the spot, fumbling over her words. “Ah… Uhm… Never have I ever played strip poker.”

Lucy as surprised to see so many people put their fingers down, even Freed. Natsu teased Yukino, nuzzling his nose into her white head of hair. “We should play it sometime then, babe.”

Already frazzled, Yukino shook her head. “Don't taint our innocent Yuki, Natsu.” Minerva chided in her own demented way.

Natsu leaned down, Yukino’s face glowing pink. Minerva cleared her throat, her gaze sending daggers at fire slayer. He chuckled, completely unphased by the tiger. “It’s your turn, Miss Pouty Face.”

It was evident that Minerva didn’t approve of the nickname. She let Natsu off the hook, taking her turn. “I have never driven a car.”

Everyone put down a finger, Minerva smirking victoriously. Gray couldn’t hold his tongue, “How have you never driven a car? Doesn’t your dad own a car company?”

Sabertooth looked uneasy, Minerva shutting him down. “I only have a motorcycle license. I never took too kindly to automobiles, only tolerated. Bikes are more of my thing.”

The unease of the tigers vanished, almost seeming surprised by Minerva’s answer. Lucy was sure she was the only one who noticed. But Sting chimed in right after her, “I’m the lady’s chauffeur. There’s no reason for her to drive anyways.”

Some chuckled at his answer. Apparently his Volkswagen minivan was today’s new limousine. But the tension of the room settled, Rufus ready with his own statement. “Never have I ever… Failed an exam.”

Lucy groaned, admitting defeat. Everyone but the blond, Levy and Freed put their fingers down. She was now left with five fingers, though she was lucky. Only one was down to four, Levy.

“You’re such’a putz, Rufus. You should have done something more fun like, I have never been caught having sex.” Sting’s laugh was flamboyant, hunching over as he saw the couple across from him lose again.

Lucy blushed as the memory of Natsu and Yukino crossed her mind. She had been very unlucky that day. The two were also a maddening red, Cana choosing to mock them. “Damn, I guess Yukino might be less of an angel than we thought.”

“I-It wasn’t like that-” Yukino tried to explain herself, but failed.

“Shhh… It’s ok, Yuki.” Lucy cood, “Everybody has sex.”

Her brown eyes were pleading, the rest of Yukino’s classmates smirking. “Just like how everybody poops,” Sting so graciously included.

Rogue rolled his eyes, elbowing his boyfriend. “You have the humor of a toddler.” Sting simply nodded, nudging the unruly slayer. “Right, it’s my turn. Never have I ever,” he glanced around the room, making sure to make the rest worth his while, “found the person behind the ink.”

Though Rogue’s was ominous and a bit metaphorical, Lucy understood. Only a few putting their fingers down, along with her. Some looked at Rogue with confusion, including his boyfriend.

“What d’ya mean?” Sting eyed him, the question flying completely over his head.

Jellal interrupted, “He means have you found the mage you’re supposed to fight to the death with. He just decided to put it in a more eloquent statement.”

The blond immediately put a finger down, flashing a look toward Gray. Lucy noticed the brooding ice mage had put a finger down, leaving him with three fingers. She tried not to think much of it, very uninterested in speaking to him at the moment. She knew the grudge wouldn’t last for long anyways, Gray was one of her best friends.

The attention of the room was brought toward Jellal as the council member sighed, his lacrima com blaring. He kissed Erza’s cheek and stood, “It was nice to meet you all. Council duties call, as always.”

Erza blushed, waving by to him with the rest of the group. The moment the door closed behind him, Fairy Tail gushed. Cat calling and teasing the scarlet haired mage about the “hunk of a man” she brought in, even Sting joined in on it.

She became a flustered mess, unable to answer the questions directed toward her. In order to get everyone’s attention, she blurted out the next round. “Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.”

There was complete silence, the realization dawning on everyone. “Uhm… Erza.” Lisanna was certainly brave to speak up. “We all have the tattoo of our guild emblem.”

The room was filled with cacophonous and bright laughter, the scarlet haired mage holding her head down in shame. But above the rambunctiousness, Lucy could hear the light chiming of Minerva’s own laugh. It was very quiet, a spring’s breeze. And she was completely hooked on it. But as soon as Minerva’s laughter rang, it subsided along with everyone else’s.

Lucy grinned, ready for her turn. “I have never ran a red light.”

Minerva shot the blonde a look of appraisal as numerous fingers were put down, including her own. Lucy shined an innocent smile toward the tigress, proud of knocking some numbers down.

“Go on, Levy,” Lucy said.

The petite girl was alight, her mouth quirking to the side. “I would like to but I have never gone skinny dipping.”

All the tigers put a finger down, followed by Cana, Freed and Erza. This surprised Lucy, the red head paying no mind to her inquisitive stare.

As the rounds continued, the fingers dwindled. Levy was out first followed by Natsu (he blamed it on Gray). And now Lucy was left as the last one standing next to Cana and Gray. Cana's presence baffled the blonde, she thought the drunkard had done so much more but apparently all three of them were lacking when it came to a social life.

Lucy had experienced so much heartache but not much when it came to life experiences apparently. She gave Cana a devilish yet innocent smile, wiggling her single finger at the brunette. “Never have I ever had a fruit cocktail before.”

Neither of her two opponents put a finger down and Lucy pouted. Cana shook her silver canteen at Lucy, snickering. “I only drink hard liquor, Lucy. None of that girly shit for me. And Gray wouldn't dare touch something like that, it would ruin his masculinity.”

“At least I'm not poisoning myself with it. Shouldn't your liver be dead by now?” She swore that Gray's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“If only life was so nice.” Cana erupted with laughter, slapping her hand down on her knee. She composed herself in quickly, gazing at Lucy with the same impish face she had previously. With the next round being her turn, the brunette didn’t hesitate, “Never have I ever had sex before.”

Everyone gasped as they saw their “innocent”, blonde friend finally admit defeat. Lucy and Gray didn't bother to look at one another as they put their fingers down. Erza was the most shocked out of the bunch, staggering to her feet. “Who took your chastity?!” With vigor, she shook Lucy's shoulders, those brown eyes boring into her own.

“Back off, will you? Everyone has their own personal life that doesn't involve you, Titania.” With much vehement, Minerva spat the woman's nickname out, challenging the red head. She looked past the requip mage and directly at Lucy, shooting her a sympathetic glance. Lucy could feel her cheeks rise with heat.

Sting and Natsu were completely out of place, searching for something that he could do to stop this cat fight. Lucy expected that the two had the maturity to keep their cool but that was not the current case. Natsu tugged on Erza's arm in an effort to calm her down but her magical aura flared. The red a clear warning sign for him to back off.

“This conversation has nothing to do with the likes of you.” Erza's attention was now focused on her rival, Minerva.

Minerva's aura easily surrounded her, a dark iridescent purple coming off her body. “It involves everyone when you're standing in the middle of the room.” She replied with ease, confidence exuding from her.

Erza sighed and her aura dissipated followed by Minerva's. It seemed like Minerva was only hostile when others challenged her, sinking her teeth in when they made a mistake.

“Lucy and I will go somewhere else then.” Erza acted as if her word was law, pulling her away.

But Lucy shook her head, yanking her arm from the steely grip. “Let’s not make a scene of this, Erza. I will explain everything to you,” her confidence dwindling as Lucy spoke, “later. Can’t we enjoy the party just for now?”

She felt that Erza already knew, her gaze turning ice cold. This was focused on Lucy and then to Gray, almost daring them to speak out of turn. But in that same moment, the look was gone. It was replaced by a small smile and Erza’s voice boomed with content. “We can. I didn’t mean to make a big fuss. You know how I feel about those type of things.”

Lucy simply nodded, taking a small glance over to Minerva. She was practically begging for an out, those hazel eyes filled with understanding. The Sabertooth student huffed, stepping outside. The sliding glass door closed silently, Natsu’s cream curtains hiding any view of the picturesque forest. No one questioned the territory mage’s antics, it just looked like she was heading outside to cool down. But Lucy felt like Minerva wanted her to follow, but she needed the perfect opening.

Especially with Erza and Gray breathing down her neck.

[genius-with-a-j]

Welcome to YouTube Incorporated

So I’m a big fan of @shamefulbirb and her Evil YouTube Inc. AU (if you haven’t seen anything of it, you should really check it out, she draws some amazing art and her AUs are beautiful) so I decided to write something about it. Essentially, this takes place in a universe where Google has taken over the world. This might be the first part of an ongoing story, but it could also be a standalone. I haven’t decided yet. 

It's a beautiful world.

It's a technologically-advanced world, a world where no one need worry about crime, a world where everyone knows that they're protected by Those That Watch.

Across the globe, things reflect the wonderful state of things and the benevolence of Those Who Help. Perfect neighborhoods sport perfect houses, all the same except for their color. The houses follow a consistent pattern down every block, always the same no matter where you are. Blue-red-yellow-blue-green-red. It's a pattern that any good citizen is familiar with and knows means comfort and safety. Inside each of these perfect, colorful houses, is at least one resident of the world now known simply as Alphabet, an appropriate amount of Alphabet approved furniture, and Alphabet technology.

Those Who Observe are kind enough to make sure that all of its residents have access to state-of-the-art technology and because of their generosity, every household has what is known as a Google IRL: a lovely android that can answer any question that its owners may have, and that can assist with anything that they may need. Each Google IRL is also loosely in the image of a particular celebrity, known by all of his adoring fans as Merry Markimoo.

Merry Markimoo holds the status of a Chosen One, one of the highest honors that a citizen of Alphabet can achieve. As such, he gets to live outside of the colored neighborhoods and is allowed to reside in a special zone known as YouTube Village. There, he has a giant estate and access to anything he could want for filming. He produces content for YouTube on a daily basis and his videos reach an audience of billions. Many of Alphabet's residents dream of living such a lifestyle and make videos in hopes of someday reaching the heights of their YouTube idols. Many others are content just to watch and be entertained. Either way is supported by the compassionate ones who watch. They make sure that everyone has access to the devices needed to access YouTube, as well as all of the other excellently designed social networks and websites that Alphabet is kind enough to allow its residents to access. Though they are known to be highly monitored, and there is a general awareness that anything considered not suitable for the world at large is removed from the Internet in its entirety, it seems like a small price to pay for access to such wealths of information and content.

After all, it's a beautiful world. Sometimes speech has to be regulated in order for it to stay that way. The residents just aren't as knowledgeable as Those Who Observe them, and sometimes need guidance to keep the peace.This is fine.In fact, it's more than fine. It's natural. It's normal. No one questions it or tries to fight the system. Why would they? Alphabet is a good place. Google, Alphabet's wonderful technology corporation, is a force for good. Everybody knows that both Those Who watch and Google itself only want what's best for their residents.

So they consume content, the way they're supposed to. They spend hours on YouTube, watching everything that the Chosen Ones produce, happy for their entertainment. They wake up every day and log on, excited to see what their favorite creators have in store for them next.

And nobody stops to wonder what it's like to be one of those creators. They already know. It's lovely, full of riches and everything one could ever want. They even get beautiful collars to wear, complete with a shiny red YouTube Play Button. The ultimate status symbol that comes with getting a million subscribers, something that every small creator dreams of getting.

Everything is beautiful. Everything is perfect.

Everything is fine.

"Hey babe, can you come in here for a minute, please?"

The cry rang out through the large house that was courtesy of YouTube Village. There was an odd quality to it, it sounded strained somehow. Like the person crying out was trying to mask fear with a sort of cheeriness that just didn't sound natural. Worried, the woman being called for--the new Mrs. Erin Douglass--quickly set her Chromebook aside and headed towards the bathroom where her husband of one month stood in front of the mirror.

"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked, her voice hushed. She had passed their terrifying android, Google IRL, on her way into the room. It was standing in the hallway, seemingly awaiting orders.

He turned his head to look at her, a huge grin on his face. She knew immediately that it was fake; she could see the strain in his eyes. She noticed there was a small cut on his chin, and it was bleeding a little bit. "I cut myself shaving," he told her through grit teeth, “and I made the mistake of saying a certain word."

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. Unable to keep herself from making a face, she glanced at the bright red collar that her spouse wore. "It shocked you," she stated, crossing her arms. She had known for a while that it was something that the infernal device did, despite the fact that he had tried to hide it from her for the first few months of having it.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, exhaling through his teeth. "And it was a doozy."

She frowned. "I hate that they do that to you."

"Censorship is important, we wouldn't want to ruin this perfect world they've created," he told her, voice dripping with sarcasm.The giant fake grin remained, and she hated it. She wished he would stop smiling at her like that.

Sighing, she walked over to the towel cabinet and took out a washcloth. She wet it in the sink, wrung it out and then held it out to her husband. "Hold this on your chin."

He nodded and did as she asked. The grin faded a little. "Sorry to bring you in here, Erin. There's nothing you can do about this." He gestured to the collar with his free hand.

"I can support you," she told him earnestly. "I can't get rid of it, but I can stand here and tell you that it's going to be okay and that they're bastards—"

"Ow!" he yelped, dropping the washcloth. He looked at her incredulously.

She looked back at him, eyes wide. "Did they shock you? For something I said?"

"Yes! Apparently I'm not even allowed to hear curse words now." He bent down and picked up the washcloth, chuckling to himself. "They're playing hardball today, apparently." He looked at her, eyes twinkling. "To me, that seems like they really want me to make a video."

She couldn't help but smile. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

He nodded, and she could see the gears in his head turning. He stood there for a little bit longer, holding the washcloth to his face, and she waited with him. She wasn't going to leave him alone with his little YouTube prize from hell. She knew he appreciated her staying because he flashed her a genuine smile.

"I have a couple video ideas for today," he said, a gleeful ring to his voice. "I think I could get a couple good ones filmed. Heck, they'll be posted by tonight since YouTube does all the editing now that I'm 'Chosen.'" That distant, daydreamy look in his eyes faded after a second and he refocused, coming back to the present moment. He looked at Erin and his brow furrowed. "Babe, I know you have work to do, but—"

"I'll stay in the room while you film," she promised.

He looked relieved. "Thanks."

The bleeding stopped after not too much longer. Once it had, the cut was hardly visible at all. Erin knew that even it had been visible, it wouldn't show up in the finished videos. The YouTube overlords would see to it.

The second he was out of the bathroom, Jack got to setting everything up, a huge shit-eating grin on his face. She watched him chuckle to himself as he got the camera ready and did all that other YouTube stuff that she didn't know much about. There was a method to his madness, she knew, as he grabbed his Chromebook and pulled a bunch of stuff up, but she had no idea what that was.

Finally, after what felt like way too long, he looked at Erin. "I need you to help me keep track of what they shock me for. This is going to be a trial and error, I think. If you can just help me remember what words and phrases do it, that'll help me with some scripts in the future."

"Ah... okay," she agreed, her stomach sinking. She really didn't want to see Jack get shocked again.

"It might not happen at all," he said quickly, seeing her expression. "That's possible. I've gotten pretty good at dancing around their little algorithm, so I might get out scot free. I'm just trying to cover all the bases I can."

With that, he switched on the camera and smiled widely at it. "Yesterday I asked you what I should ask Google IRL. We all have one, courtesy of our loving, compassionate overlords, so we might as well use them, right? So I'm going to be reading your best suggestions, and I'm going to throw in a few of my own too. Okay Google!" he called.

The robot came in and Erin shuddered. She hated that thing. She glared at it as it mechanically walked past her and took its place next to Jack on the couch. She crossed her arms.Glancing at the screen of his Chromebook, Jack started. "Does Canada exist?"

The robot looked at him, its eyes unfeeling and cold. "No," it answered in a monotone. "The country formerly known as Canada is now part of Alphabet."

"Okay Google, do it be like it is or how it do?"

The android continued to look at him, its gaze steely. "That is not a coherent question, I cannot answer it."

"Okay Google, who stole my meme?"

"Memes are not property of those who create them. As soon as they are posted, they belong to Google. Therefore, no one stole your meme. They borrowed content from Google."

Jack grinned cheekily. "Borrowed, of course. Because no one could steal from a beautiful and powerful company like Google! It's just not possible. How kind of Google to let lowly peasants borrow its property. What a charitable conglomerate they are." Then he paused. "Alright, my turn! Okay Google, which one of us is more free, me or you?"

Google IRL glared at him and Jack's hand flew to his neck and he winced. Quickly, he glanced at Erin, who made a mental note: not a fan of asking about freedom."Being 'free' is a social construct that we in Alphabet disregard. We have no need for that word, as we instead have protection and safety given to us by Those Who watch."Jack smirked, though his eyes showed that the shock had jarred him slightly. "Ah, of course. I forgot how you feel about four letter F-words." He turned back to the screen and Erin could see him momentarily look for another question. "Okay Google, ya like jazz?"

"I have no opinion on jazz," the machine responded.

"Okay Google, is..." he spotted a question and his eyes glittered. He glanced at Erin, smiling slightly. "Is my marriage a hoax? I don't think it's real."

"Only you and your spouse know the answer to that question," IRL answered.

"And here I thought you were all-knowing," Jack shrugged. "Alright, well, I guess that's my turn again. Okay Google, define dystopia."

"Dystopia: an imagined place or state in which everything is unpleasant or bad, typically a totalitarian or environmentally degraded one," IRL answered immediately.

The YouTuber nodded thoughtfully, making deliberate 'eye contact' with the camera. "Imagined is an interesting word," he said, rubbing his chin. "Moving on!”

It went on for a few minutes like this, as Jack alternated between viewer nonsense and his own subtle jabs at Google. Erin just watched, making mental notes of when he got shocked. There was only one more incident, which occurred when asked Google IRL if it was “DTF.” Of course, after being shocked he remedied it with “Difficult to Figure Out” then made some joke about the “O” being silent. After he’d finally finished and turned off the camera, he asked Google IRL to go stand in another room, which it did, after a moment of unnerving blank staring.

“Was there a point to that?” Erin asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Besides just pissing them off?”

“Absolutely!” he agreed. Hurrying across the room he grabbed his Chromebook and started typing furiously.“What the hell are you doing?”

“Ow!” he complained, twitching a little with the new shock, though it didn’t seem to deter him at all. “Please, Erin, keep it family friendly.” After a second of silence, he seemed to realize she was still waiting for an answer and explained, “I had to figure out what I could and couldn’t say so I could release some merch.”

She blinked. That was not the answer she’d been expecting. “What?”

“Hey, a YouTuber’s gotta make a living,” he said, eyes twinkling mischievously. “What do you think about ‘You’re a YouTuber? Shocking!’ with a play button collar for the ‘O’ in shocking?’”

“That’s terrible and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

He shrugged. “Hey, they’re not all winners.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How about ‘IRL: I Really Love... Google!’”

“How does that make your point at all? That’s just you being sarcastic.”

“Being sarcastic is my point!” Jack responded, chipper. “How about an acronym for Google? Hm... Great organization only gives... love...? Hm... well, I could do this as a YIAY question, I guess.”

She shook her head. “Why do you insist on poking the bear?”

“Because I live for the adrenaline rush!” After a second, however, his smile turned to a frown. “Hey Erin, I’m sorry you’re caught up in all of this. I don’t know that you knew what you were getting into when you said ‘I do.’”

“Oh, I knew,” she promised him. “And we’re in this together, Jack. As long as they don’t put one of those collars on me,” she added, teasing.

He grinned. “I mean I can help you set up a channel if you want.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m good on the terrifying overlords over my shoulder and around my throat all the time, thanks.”

“Alright, but you’re missing out. These are state-of-the-art, very trendy.” He angled his head to show off the gleaming red collar, not losing eye contact.

“Hmm, as tempting as it is to put a literal shock-collar on for the sake of looking stylish, I think I have to pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he told her, shrugging. “It’s only uncomfortable most of the time.”

She shook her head again and he pulled her in and kissed her.

“Thanks for staying, Erin.”

“Yeah, yeah, Douglass,” she shot back affectionately. “Really I’m just in it for the bigger house.”

He pulled back, grinning again. “It is a nice house!” he agreed. “Now, do you want to help me design some merch or not?”

She sighed, but sat down on the couch as he plopped next to her. “Alright, Jack. Let’s pi—er, tick off our all-powerful overlords.”

He smiled and without another word, the two got to work.​

[smolfangirl]

Way before I had ever called your name

A sound so sweet, of you and me - Prologue - First meetings

Hello, my dearest readers, and welcome to my new multichapter! I am so excited to finally share this with you as I have been working on (and finishing) this fic in the last 9-ish months and it owns a very special place in my heart - and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

Basic idea: from this fic.

Updates: Wednesday and Saturday starting on April 18th. Along with every chapter you’ll find the title for the following one on my writing page.

Thanks go out to @sky-girls who helped in the beginning of the story, and to my awesome girls who always motivated me when I needed it, you’re appreciated ladies ♥

Story: In a world where you only know who your soulmate is by calling them by their first name, Matteo soon finds that the smallest words can be the hardest to say.

Word count: 1.3k

The teacher assigned him his spot.

It wasn’t as much of a surprise to Matteo as to the brunette guy who now stared at him, completely frozen. Shocked, even. For whatever reason that boy – the teacher called him Gastón now – looked like a cow right before a car accident just because he had to share his table, but from his experience Matteo figured he’d get over it. (In two, maximum five minutes.)

Straightening his shoulders, Matteo walked up to the bench with the kind of smile that said Hey, sorry for interrupting but I’m not too fond of this either. Gastón shortly returned his gaze, a silent Whatever in his eyes but soon focused on the blackboard when the teacher started the lesson.

He silently sighed. Told himself to just get this over with.

Just like in every first class of a first day at a new school, Matteo took his brand-new pen and brand-new notebook, opened it on the first page and began to take notes. However, his attention slipped away like water dripping through his hands when he tried to catch it as a young boy, playing at an Italian beach.

It slipped because the teacher talked ridiculously slow, as if the words ran free in his head and they needed to be caught and broken in before they formed coherent sentences able to leave his mouth.

Second, it slipped because the teacher’s tie distracted him, with the bright yellow and purple and the pattern too ugly to even find the words for it.

And lastly (and mostly) because his nerves tingled from a strange desire demanding him to talk to the boy next to him.

Usually, during a first day in school, it took him roughly two classes to find a suitable possible friend. Usually, always, and he honestly had believed Buenos Aires would be no difference. However, something about Gastón made him excited to get to know him, made him excited to sit next to him for possibly a whole school year.

When the teacher shortly left the room to get the copies he had forgotten in his office, and his new classmates started chatting, he leaned over to ask something. Later, he didn’t remember what he even planned to say. Ask for a pencil? A tour through the school? Ask if this joke of a teacher always wore those bow ties?

Not that it mattered. When the name slipped across his lips, he knew.

Gastón.

His heart sped up. Fast, faster, the fastest.

For a moment, Matteo forgot how to breathe.

For a moment, his lungs burst from something he couldn’t quite yet catch, something bigger than himself.

For a moment, his whole body froze like an iceberg.

When he drew air in, his mind felt sharpened and fresh, as if he took a nap and woke up to a new, better reality. Although the effect lasted only a few second, he knew his life had spun around with no return.

“Hey, are you alright?”, Gastón brought him back to the classroom, to real life, “It was Matteo, wasn’t….” He whispered but stopped right away.

His eyes widened.

The one. The one person he never had expected to find. His soulmate.

Gastón leaned closer. Automatically, Matteo mirrored his movement. “Do we have to make out now?”, Gastón asked and in that moment Matteo decided he liked him, soulmate or not.

Two years later, Matteo still smiled when he thought of that day, the beginning of a friendship he had hoped and wished for ever since he got old enough to grasp the concept of soulmates.

The memory popped into his head again now, when Gastón met him in front of the school, a smile so big on his face Matteo was certain it hurt like hell. “Okay, you either had three cups of the Italian coffee I got you or something happened.”

If possible, his smile got wider.

“Okay…”, Matteo pondered, hand rubbing the skin on his neck for a second before he stopped, “What is it?” Still that smile.

He seriously considered avoiding his best friend if he kept on smiling that way. It was creepy, like he had found the ultimate pun and turned into the pun monster, no going back, stealing Matteo’s will to live. (Perhaps he got a bit ahead of himself.)

“Remember that girl from photography class?”, Gastón asked.

“You mean Nina, the girl you won’t shut up about since a few weeks? Actually, since the beginning of the school year?” To his satisfaction, a blush accompanied Gastón’s smile. “Nina, yeah”, he admitted, then straightened his back, “She is my soulmate.”

“What?!”

His vision blurred. Weakness sneaked into his knees, made him want to sit down. Shock might be the wrong word to describe the fear pulsing through his every cell at this revelation – it couldn’t even begin to grasp the storm inside him. For the first time he heard of someone with two soulmates, or maybe – and his heart broke just thinking about this – maybe Gastón and him weren’t soulmates, maybe they both imagined it and…

“Hey, Matteo, no need to look like you saw a ghost, I still love you”, Gastón tried to cheer him up, yet a hint of worry slipped into his voice. “Really, you can relax. I don’t feel less certain about you being my soulmate. Hey, who knows, maybe there’s a second soulmate for you too!”

That managed to get a snort out of Matteo. “Don’t be ridiculous”, he spitted out, a bitter taste in his throat, similar to the gin he once sneaked out of his dad’s liquor cabinet. (And never again.)

“Oh, come on, there are more ridiculous things. Like that movie you showed me the other night or when you dated Ámbar although you knew you weren’t soulmates and she’s, well…”

They entered the hallway. With no delay, Gastón changed, his sentence hanging in the air. His posture turned straighter, more confident while his eyes hurried through the crowd. Matteo would bet his skates that his best friend was looking for Nina.

“There’s no rule or law that allows only relationships with your soulmate”, Matteo gave it one last shot at staying on topic. (Even if Gastón had a point, dating Ámbar didn’t turn out to be a good idea.) “I mean, if that was a thing, would you leave Nina for me? Or would I have to die a broken-hearted virgin?”

His friend failed to answer as he discovered Nina and his feet carried him over before Matteo got to add: “Yeah, just leave me here, a broken-hearted virgin! Leave me and my broken heart on the floor!”

Gastón ignored him.

“You didn’t answer my question!”, Matteo shouted, only for his friend to flip him off.

To Matteo’s own surprise he never developed a feeling of jealousy towards the new girl by his best friend’s side after that day.

(Okay, maybe a bit, but only during lonely lunch meals or boring evenings when they had a date night and when Gastón spent much more time with her than with him.)

Nina seemed nice, shy at first, but she made Gastón happy. Ridiculously happy. For mysterious reasons she also liked his puns, which meant Matteo finally had to hear less of them.

Life felt good like this. He had friends, a soulmate, a place to finally call home that he stayed in for more than just one year. These supposedly-heartwarming soulmate-stories in the media stopped bothering him. After finding his own happiness he had no need to jealously stare at other’s. At all. Gastón was the kind of person by his side that he had been searching for his own life, the one friend he never wanted to let go of. Now, Matteo looked at the future without worry.

And then everything changed again when he collided with the moon.

[nargisdesignblog-blog]

Coworking Spaces in Hotels (Part 1 + Part 2)

by Nargis Mamedova, 06 April + 16 April 2020, Hamburg

I first heard about and used co-working spaces four years ago.

For my master project I came across the topic of coworking spaces again and dealt with it in detail.

Hotel lobbies are certainly suitable for coworking for one or two hours. However, the target group expects much more than just a place and an unattractive business corner with moderately functioning printers and PCs.

What is important and what needs to be considered can be read in this and the next article. Yes, I made two blogs out of it again, because there is so much to write about.

This article deals with the view of the provider and first of all explains what coworking spaces are and what they can be used for.

On the other hand, my partner gave me the opportunity to conduct an interview with a founder he knows in order to find out the requirements of a user.

 Can hotels offer coworking spaces?

This question inevitably arises.

And I don't mean the premises, but rather the performance!

Hotels have premises, e.g. the hotel lobby or meeting rooms. The idea of selling conference rooms at short notice or by the hour as coworking spaces is almost an obvious one.

It is not simply "only" the rental of the space is! It is much more about common ground, temporary teamwork, humanity, togetherness, achieving more together than alone, learning and profiting from each other.

This means that hotels have to get involved. It is not enough just to provide the premises, catering, fast internet and a printer.

 Coworking must be experienced!

How can coworking be offered at the hotel? In my opinion, offering a coworking space is a chance to retain customers!

A business traveller who is a frequent visitor to your city because it is where his company's headquarters are located is much more likely to book with you if he knows he will find a desk in your city.

Especially in a beautiful environment and not alone in a room at a table that was never before made for desk work. (Be honest! Desks in hotel rooms have never been well solved)

 In a hotel, part of the lobby could be designed as an open coworking space.

Did you notice?-

I wrote above that hotel lobbies are not coworkers and now I say the opposite? Sure! Because it's not enough to simply offer the hotel lobby with "business corner". The lobby must be designed (or part of it) for coworkers.

In addition to this you should offer the possibility to rent fixed tables. Of course, you need a good management system for this, because coworkers rely on getting their table.

Offering coworking spaces in your hotel is not simply providing a table and access to printers and the Internet. It is best if you have a permanent room and offer your members the opportunity to work undisturbed in an office.

I think especially in the business segment of a hotel, that is exactly what a good guest relation is!

A permanent coworking space could be a conference room, for example, which just doesn't sell well. Redesign this space and offer it regularly as a coworking space.

Integrate a coffee kitchen or a reception with a permanent team to which coworkers can turn in case of questions or difficulties and through whom the Space can also be booked.

Desk, internet, coffee & co. but above all community management!

Coworking can also work in hotels and they are almost made for it. Through some conversations, some users have revealed that they would rather book a hotel that has coworking space.

But it must be a well-rounded and coherent concept. The offer cannot simply be implemented alongside it. You have to see it as your own profit center in the hotel and treat it the same way!

Community management is an essential part of the coworking space. Because it lives from the community, which consists of regular guests and members who come back regularly. They want to be recognized!

And a community wants to be managed!

The Community Manager in the hotel is the host and ensures a pleasant and smooth cooperation. He is the link between the community and the provider.

An example

Look at the Hotel Schani from Vienna! On the homepage you get an impression how this can be realized with the Coworking Space.

 Conclusion

You can offer a coworking space in your hotel and thus improve and expand your guest relations! But it does not work on the side. It must be taken seriously! You need..

·       Premises for the community

·       separate offices

·       Desks, printers, i.e. the equipment

·       Community Manager or Guest Relation Manager for administration

·       Administration and price concept

Coworking spaces in hotels and the new target group! (Part 2)

In the last article I have described the possibilities for hotels.

This article will now deal with the coworking space users.

 Interview with a former Co-Working user

One of the founders of www.xperiens.de was kind enough to answer the questions from the user's point of view. He himself used coworking spaces because he was on the road a lot or needed a change from the home office.

With this interview I would like to try to find out the expectations and needs of the target group.

Question 1: Why do you use coworking spaces?

I like to use coworking spaces for several reasons. I travel a lot and need a relatively quiet place to work that has good WLAN and where I can drink a coffee or eat something. I don't always want to go to Starbucks & Co, but rather support coworking spaces - if they are available. Many times, they are not always close to the station, so that then I mostly visit one of the coffee chains. Since I also work a lot from home, I like to change the location to get new impulses and to get in contact with other people. Coworking spaces are predestined for this.

Question 2: How do you use coworking spaces?

I use coworking spaces differently. For concentrated work, I look for either a quiet place or even a room where I can close the door. If I work but don't necessarily need absolute silence, for example because I'm working through my emails or planning certain things in advance, then I like to use a workstation in a group room.

So a coworking space needs two things:

·       Individual offices

·       and group rooms

 Question 3: At what time do you use it?

It really varies a lot. The other day, I had the most terrible accident. All day long my internet and phone were down. I urgently needed to get out of the way to work and went to a coworking space all day. But sometimes I only need a workplace for a few hours because I want to use the time until one or more appointments.

Flexible workplace design requires flexible pricing. Prices must be tailored to the user.

Question 4: What do you expect from coworking spaces?

It is important to me that everything is neat and clean. This includes the tables and chairs/armchairs as well as the meeting rooms, kitchen and toilet(s).

Then it is very important to me that there is fast and problem-free Internet and an easy to use access to the printer. I also find it helpful if there are lockers available, so that I can lock up something in the short term. As far as food is concerned, I like it when coffee, water and tea are provided free of charge and maybe a fridge to store my own things on hot days and a microwave to heat up something myself (even if I only order most of the time).

Question 5: How important is the community in coworking spaces to you?

Good cooperation is important to me. Friendliness and mutual helpfulness make up a community for me and in a coworking space everyone can benefit from the skills and abilities of the other participants.

I always find a wall helpful, where the individual coworkers and their activities are listed and/or described. This way, as a new visitor or coworker, you can find out who the others are and what they do for a living. Maybe this will lead to joint projects or if you have a problem, you will have a contact person you can ask quickly.

A coworking space is not just a room or a way to temporarily use an office. It is the community that makes up the coworking space. This community wants and needs to be cultivated!

As a result, hotels cannot simply provide a room, meet the requirements and provide good WLAN. They have to cultivate the community and make it possible to experience it. I think that will be the biggest challenge!

Question 6: Do you use marketing opportunities of coworking spaces?

...or would you take advantage of these services if they were included in the offer? For example: support at events etc. 

I have used the marketing opportunities and have seen a lot of it so far. There is a blog on which the coworkers and their work are presented or there is a calendar of events, which is also sent out via newsletter. If someone offers a workshop, lecture or something like that it would be great to be listed there. For me it depends on what is offered concretely. Support at an event can mean everything, but coworking is about acting on your own responsibility. For example that the room is prepared and cleaned up by the organizer. I would find it helpful to have contacts to cheap catering or beverage suppliers if coworking has no offers in that direction. Especially if you come from far away, you don't want to transport the beverage crates.

Question 7: What prices do you consider acceptable?

This is a difficult question and depends on what is offered. I think round about 13-20 Euro is okay, if there are free drinks, fast internet, printer access and a good accessibility via public transport.

How could hotels implement the concept of coworking spaces?

I've been asking myself that question for quite some time. A temporary use of empty meeting rooms was my first idea. However, this complicates the administration and especially the marketing.

A coworking space must exist and be available. No user drives aimlessly to a hotel hoping that there will be a room available just today. And a hotel is reluctant to forego sales from a conference booked at short notice.

And yet even that could work every now and then!