#spent almost all of today on researching *wave hand* all of it

[puppyeared]

When you backread through a fun conversation you had with someone for hours an angel gets its wings

[cobaltsunflower]

Hihi initial design 😊 (not clothed yet since first i need to know what it looks like under)

Thank you @beastdyke so much for the Angel Generator i was having an art drought

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

—————————————————

The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian II

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: heheheheheee

Masterlist, Part II of __

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as you run past him in a hurry with your white coat hanging on your arm and the sound of your heels hitting the floor before completely skidding to a stop. It was already late in the evening and you still had energy to run in the hospital lobby. Seokjin was starting to wonder what you were fed as a child to be this vibrant. Additionally, though, he was now starting to think what he fed Jungkook as a child for him to be as energetic as you.

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I run again?” you asked with a teasing smile on your face, your breaths huffing. You saw the most handsome man walked confidently across the lobby, his hand clutching his briefcase and you knew he was done for the day. That was the moment you ran from the second floor to the ground floor just to annoy your crush. You were too busy today with your patients and papers that you had no time to go to his office and bat your eyelashes at him.

It was entertaining to watch his cheeks and ears reddened whenever he saw you doing that, or whenever you verbally appreciated his beauty. You thought he was embarrassed for you and you found it immensely charming. In fact, flirting with him was the highlight of your day and you always made sure to see him on a daily basis which you noted was difficult.

Sometimes, Kim Seokjin was nowhere to be found for days. You wondered where he went whenever he disappeared. On days after he was gone, he seemed to be more tolerant of your teasing quips. On days after he returned, you could have sworn he looked at you a little bit fondly for a second and then it was gone.

“This is not the first time I saw you, Doctor Y/N,” he replied calmly, his hand in his pocket as he rested his eyes on yours.

“Yes, but I’m running out of pickup lines to use. I still need conduct further research,” you tilted your head to the side as you looked up at the tall man. “When are you even going to ask me out, Doctor Kim?”

“W-what?”

“I mean, you better hurry up or else someone might snatch me up. My mother did say that I’m the most beautiful girl in the world and I am known for being a good girl and believing every word my mother said.”

His brows furrowed at the thought of someone snatching you away from his grasp. But, you weren’t his, right? He had no hold over you, right? So why did that leave a sour taste on his mouth? Why then did he fist his hands so tight he almost felt pain knowing that he had long couldn’t?

You had no idea of the darkness that was clouding his mind and instead, you smiled sweetly at him before waving him goodbye, satisfied that you once again managed to render the smartest man in this hospital speechless and blushing profusely. That was an achievement, you giggled.

But then you turned to look at him again, your hand touching your lips and then dramatically pointing it to him. That was all it took to get him out of the darkness that was caging him once again. The mafia prince didn’t know what to make of the power you had over his darkness, a darkness that he spent a good decade reigning in.

You tapped your knuckles against his office door twice before opening the door. Kim Seokjin was the image of focus as he stared intensely at his laptop, his brows slightly furrowed with his glasses resting on his aristocrat nose. He looked up when he heard the sound of several tupperwares hitting his table.

“Eomeoni said that she courted appa by cooking and bringing him meals everyday in his office,” you started conversationally as you opened the lids. Seokjin was helpless as soon as the aromatic smell reached him that his own stomach decided to betray him and communicate how empty it was.

He coughed to cover his embarrassment, “Your mother courted your father?”

“Yes. Her method was effective, though,” you grinned at him as you placed the chopsticks in front of him. You sat in front of him before starting to eat. “She also did say to follow my dreams, so here I am.”

You met his eyes before winking at him. Seokjin’s face radiated with a warm, pinkish blush which happened to be a true testament to his extremely flustered state that only you could bring out of him. And you staring at him like that was not helping him at all.

His hands shook as his mind went to the default setting: to push you away.

“I have patients coming in…”

You blinked owlishly at him before looking down at your wristwatch. “It’s 5:47 am. Check-ups starts at 7:00 am. We have time.”

“I-I don’t eat.”

The silence was loud as you processed what he just said, and you knew what an ‘I don’t want to spend time with you’ looked like. You nodded your head before standing up. “Okay.”

You stopped yourself from showing your disappointment. You brought your chopsticks down before wordlessly closing the lids on the meals your prepared at an ungodly hour. You returned them all in the paper bag before bowing at him and leaving. He watched it all as you refused to meet his eyes for the first time since you met him.

He groaned when you closed the door, and he was once again left with the silence he was used to. He rested his head on his hands in frustration. What was wrong with him, he thought. He didn’t eat? What was he, a fucking vampire? Yes, he had a clear and fair skin, and yes, he looked like he was not aging. And of course, his beauty was out of this world. But he was just beautiful! What could he do? Should he blame his mother that used to be a top model for his good genes?

Or should he blame his already system that was already beyond repair even before you came into his life?  

Kim Seokjin eyes kept on shifting to the door and then back to his screen for a moment. However, it was as though he was powerless from looking back to the door again. The presentation that they deemed to be important was merely a white noise to him, even as the doctors kept on looking at him for approval. They found none as his face remained impassive.

He looked down on his phone, and even your usual good morning was not there and he loathed it. Granted that he never replied, but he still kept the messages. It brought him something akin to warmth in his chest when he received your messages on his phone. Reading your adorable messages was the highlight of his morning. But now, his phone was unusually quiet and you were nowhere to be found. It displaced him. It vexed him. And it confused him. Seokjin glared at the emptiness of your chair with such disgust and irritation that the presenter gulped from the darkness that crossed his face. They all wanted to please him, not only was he in the highest position but he was also the major stockholder of the hospital.

Suffice to say, Kim Seokjin was the most powerful man in the hospital. Unbeknownst to them though, his power spread beyond the corners of the hospital and into the darkness of the world.

“Director Kim?” the presenter he didn’t care to remember the name called for his attention. Leisurely, he brought his eyes from his phone to the sweating man. He didn’t even care to hide the fact that he was more focused on the phone than the presentation. He read all about it and he was not pleased one bit.

“I believe you graduated at the top of your class, Doctor Choi, am I correct?” he regarded him with an unimpressed look. He waved his hand before the man could even respond. He didn’t need his affirmation. “Did your school have an extremely low population? Did they have-“ he tilted his head to come up with a better word than what he was thinking. “-subpar qualifications? Was bribery involved?”

He met each and everyone’s eyes before standing up slowly in heavy disappointment. “Fix this. Or I’ll personally call all the organizations that awarded this hospital as the best and tell them that they made a terribly, colossal blunder and have them take all the certifications away.”

—-

“Hyuuuuung, why are you even doing here?” Jungkook, their youngest brother, whined as he watched his oldest hyung laid out on his office sofa. He had his phone up, glaring at it as though it personally did him wrong.

“Hanging out with you,” he murmured before throwing his phone away. He pulled his arm on his face and started groaning.

Jungkook wanted to smash his head against his table littered with thousands of documents he needed to go into- which he couldn’t do because his hyung just wouldn’t leave him in peace!

“You’re distracting me!”

“Tough luck. I need to be around someone who’s as lonely as I am.”

“Then go to the others! Why me?! Why not Namjoon hyung?!”

“He’s not lonely. He has his secretary,” Jin softly explained before putting down his arm and turning to look at Jungkook. “Besides, no one is as lonelier as you. Your wife is out there running from you.”

“No, she’s not! She’s just lost! What about Taehyung? Go to him!” he huffed as he was reminded yet again that his wife left him. His brows were now in a pinched as he pouted at his hyung.

Jin waved his suggestion away before closing his eyes. “Tae Tae does not feel any emotion, Kookie. He doesn’t even know he’s lonely because he is a high-functioning pain in the ass psychopath that needs to be put down as soon as pos-“

His slander on Taehyung was cut short as the sound of his phone alerting him of a message from the floor chimed. Jungkook watched his hyung scrambled on the floor to where he threw his phone both in confusion and disgust. He never saw his hyung behaved this way when he was the one who always insisted in proprietary and manners because they as he said, they might be cold-blooded criminals but they were not barbarians.

You were back, he read as the personnel from the Human Resources department he bribed messaged him. Apparently, you were on a week-long leave that required him suffering because you weren’t in his vicinity. Yet again, he had no time to dissect his feelings…

He just needed to see you.

It felt like everything was displaced when you were gone, yet at the same time it was how he was living before you came into his life and painted his world with colors he didn’t know existed. That was the thing, you came and changed his world. He didn’t know how to go back to his colorless world now.

“Okay, bye.”

Jungkook watched dumbfoundedly as his hyung ran out of his office.

Part III

[joanvisitsrome]

stars between us ch.1 - h.c

Welcome to the first chapter of Stars Between Us! I don't know how many chapters this is going to be, but I'm excited! Comment if you'd like to be in the taglist!

Summary: You hit it off with Hazel on the bus ride to a school trip.

Contains: Fluff, one bed trope, nerd!reader, Hazel being happy to make new friends i need her please

“You guys really want me to go to fight club?” You were talking with Isabel and Brittany while waiting for Mr. G to start the class.

“Yeah! It’s huge on like female empowerment and stuff!” Isabel explains excitedly. Brittany nods along, going along with what Isabel is saying.

“Yeah, but other than you two, who else is there? PJ? The PJ that told Brittanay that she could poop out a hot dog?” Brittany nods out of agreement.

“There’s also Hazel. I think you two would make really good friends actually. She’s a little nerd like you.”

“She likes books and astronomy!?”

“More like bombs, but that’s not the point.” You widen your eyes at the response, flabbergasted by this new advancement in what you knew about Hazel. Surely, she was on the less-known, nerdier side of the people, usually quiet in class, but you didn’t know she made bombs. You had to admit, you were pretty damn impressed.

You looked at Hazel from across the room. Her shaggy mullet was a mess, and she was wearing a matching olive green shirt and shorts set. She awkwardly smiled and waved at you, to which you quickly raised your hand and looked away.

“Am I really this awkward?” you mumble, aggravated, your head in your hands, “how am I even friends with you guys?” you ask Brittany and Isabel.

“Well, you are the cheer team’s manager. And you’re very pretty.”

“I guess. What time is fight club today?”

“Don’t you remember? The camping trip starts today! We don’t have fight club since we’re all going home to pack.”

“Oh yeah! I already brought my stuff to school, so I’ll be here until the bus comes.”

“You really like planning ahead, don’t you?” Isabel points out.

“It takes away some of my anxiety. If I’m unprepared, I turn into the most stressed person ever.” you admit, a bit embarrassed. Mr. G comes up to the front of the class and begins to teach. You open your notebook and begin taking notes, even though you knew that you were going to have to go home and research, since Mr. G never taught correctly.

You spent the rest of the day going through most of the works, classes, lunch, and whatnot. You weren’t looking forward to having to wait two hours at school. That was for sure. You hated being in an empty school. Even though you had your book, you knew things were going to get very boring, especially since the cell phone and wifi in your school was horrible. The end of the day did approach though, and you sat in a corner nearby the gym, reading Romeo and Juliet for the millionth time. Although it was a play, in old english, and probably one of the silliest love stories you had ever read, you found some sort of comfort in it. It had been your favorite thing that you read during your freshman year of high school, and something you ended up trailing back to each year. After finishing the book, you opened another book that you brought with you. You were desperate to stay entertained and not preyed on by the football players before Isabel and Brittany got back.

Eventually though, they did. You grabbed your things the second they approached you, complaining about how boring it had been for the two hours you had waited after school. However, your two best friends were able to put a smile back on your face almost immediately. You three were laughing and talking the whole way to the bus. However, it was only two to a group of seats.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but I kinda want to sit with Brittany. I hope you’re cool with that.” Isabel says. You know she feels bad, and that Brittany probably is sitting with Isabel so she doesn’t have to deal with PJ.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” You walk over to PJ, only to see her sit down with Josie. But then you see Hazel. She’s sitting alone, at the window seat, listening to music. You see her curled up to the window, the long, knitted sleeves of her bowler’s cardigan past her hands and near her face. Hoping Hazel wasn’t too weirded out by what happened in Mr.G’s class earlier, you hesitantly tap her on the shoulder.

“Hey, Hazel?” Hazel almost jumps with how startled she is by you.

“Y-yeah? What’s up?”

“Mind if I sit here?” Hazel nods and motions for you to sit in the seat next to her.

“I don’t think we’ve actually talked before. I’m uh, Hazel. Hazel Callahan.” An awkward smile paints her face as she holds her right hand out for yours to shake. You tell her your name and shake her hand.

“What music are you listening to?” You decided to at least make some conversation with Hazel. After all, Brittany and Isabel had said that you two would get along.

“The Smiths.” she says while nodding, and pausing the music.

“I love The Smiths.” From then on, you two were yapping the whole bus ride to the campsite. You told Hazel about your favorite books, as well as some star-gazing you were looking forward to doing. Hazel told you about a bomb kit she bought off the black market, as well as how she was looking forward to the weekend away from home.

“The stuff about the stars you were talking about was pretty cool,” Hazel admits, “you’ll have to tell me when you’re going out to go and see them.”

“Of course! It’ll be fun! It’ll be nice to go star-gazing with a friend.”

“We’re friends?” Hazel looks like she’s genuinely asking this question.

“Of course we’re friends. You’re so nice, and we have so much in common.” You can see Hazel have this new sparkle in her eyes. Finally, someone likes her for her and actually wants to spend time with her? Just then, the bus stops, and you have to get up to retrieve your things. You reunite with Brittany and Isabel, excitedly telling them about how you had made friends with Hazel.

“Well, that’s good, since you two are going to be sharing a cabin with us.”

“Wait, really?” you ask while you guys walk to the cabin.

“Yeah. The whole fight club was going to share one, but there weren’t enough places for everyone, plus, Sylvie and Stella-Rebecca didn’t want to go.” Just then, you see Hazel headed toward the same path. You give her a small smile and wave, and she does the same. You all enter the cabin, to see that there are three beds.

“Alright,” PJ says while unlocking the door, “Brittany,”

“Absolutely not.” Brittany says, cutting of PJ mid-sentence, “I will be sleeping with Isabel, you will be sleeping with Josie.”

“So,” Isabel continues to you, “that leaves you and Hazel.”

[covid-safer-hotties]

Long Covid activist Meighan Stone didn't want to take her mask off. After pressuring her multiple times, an ER nurse called security on her. This public health failure happened at Sibley Hospital in D.C. These incidents are happening on a regular basis now as mask bans and proposals spread from L.A. to New York. You're not going to hear much about it in the news. When you do, it's framed as a problem for the vulnerable, with blue fascists freely associating masks with crime and hate.

None of the handful of stories that discuss these mask bans mention that we're currently in the middle of a deep Covid surge, at a million cases a day. None of them talk about mask bans in the context of Long Covid in adults and children.

A widely cited study declaring "strikingly low" rates of Long Covid in children was recently retracted due to major flaws in methodology. The researchers who pushed for this retraction are heroes and champions of truth.

Is the media covering that?

Not really.

To their credit, Time did recently run a very important piece on Long Covid in children, focusing on a recent study published in JAMA.

Here's the highlight:

They estimated that 20% of the previously infected younger children and 14% of the previously infected adolescents met that threshold [for diagnosis]. Kids infected before the Omicron wave were especially likely to fall into the Long COVID category. Those numbers are higher than some previous estimates—for example, a recent U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report concluded that only about 1% of U.S. kids had had Long COVID as of 2022. But other studies have come to similar conclusions, estimating that somewhere between 10% and 20% of kids who catch COVID-19 will develop long-term complications.

Media outlets like USA Today and NBC are also covering this study. For once, major news networks are devoting attention to something that deserves it. Of course, they're doing it after years of running stories blaming children's school performance and developmental delays on smartphones and lockdowns.

Earlier this year, The New York Times published a misleading, biased story on the "long-lasting" harm of school closures. And The Washington Post recently ran a story also blaming absences on everything except Long Covid and immune system damage. Even Education Week has run pieces attributing weak academic performance to school closures and stress, not the virus itself. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. Pick a magazine or newspaper and you'll find stories like these, but very few talking about the ongoing harm of exposing children and teenagers to Covid. The ones that do are almost always sitting behind a paywall.

Absence speaks louder than words, and not just about Covid.

In 2022, barely 1 percent of all corporate television focused on climate change. That was, in fact, a record high. A year later, it fell 25 percent. That was 2023, the year we surpassed 1.5C of warming for all practical purposes. It was the hottest year in recorded history, and also the worst year for climate disasters, costing us $600 billion in the U.S. alone. Entire countries shut down because it was too hot for work or school. All that, and the corporate media spent even less time talking about the problem. Meanwhile, one columnist after another published long screeds against doomers and fearmongers, insisting that we still had plenty of time to turn things around.

A compelling piece by Ryan Hagen breaks down the unsettling relationship between western news media and the fossil fuel industry. As he points out, internal reports from companies like Exxon celebrate their campaign to turn liberal news outlets like The New York Times in favor of their own industries, convincing the public they were working hard to shift toward renewable energy when the plan was always to use it like icing on top of a cake made out of coal.

Tireless work by Amy Westervelt has chronicled the impact of these campaigns. As her research shows, climate change has morphed from a topic that 80 percent of the public felt an urgency about to, now, a divisive issue and a point that most people would rather not talk about. On top of that, think tanks like the Atlas Network have made a major push to criminalize peaceful climate protests and turn public opinion against activists. A Yale study found that more than 60 percent of Americans hardly ever hear anything about climate change now.

And if you bring it up...

You're a doomer.

There has been a concerted effort across the internet to paint anyone who actually cares about the future as a deeply unhinged fearmonger. Meanwhile, social media giants like Meta have relentlessly censored information about Long Covid.

Have you noticed?

Nate Bear pulled the curtain back on how the media works roughly a year ago. As he puts it, "A lot of the stories you see in the headlines are the result of a PR agency. And depending on the news, the PR agent might not send out a release en-masse but “sell in” the story as an exclusive to just one outlet... Every day a proportion of all news you read starts at just a handful of these agencies."

PR firms are constantly wooing journalists, creating an atmosphere where conflict of interest is more of a feature than a bug.

Caitlin Johnstone did a thorough breakdown of mass media bias. Perhaps the most egregious example: MSNBC reporter Krystal Ball leveled blunt but accurate criticism of Hillary Clinton's 2016 campaign and correctly predicted that she would lose against Donald Trump because of all her neoliberal baggage. In response, the Clinton campaign threatened the entire network "not to provide any access during the upcoming campaign." The head of the network told Ball that she "could still say what I wanted, but I would have to get any Clinton-related commentary cleared with the president of the network."

So, she couldn't say whatever she wanted.

Right?

Johnstone cites a piece by Jeff Cohen in Salon that also outlines the peer pressure, groupthink, and careerism that dominates the newspapers, magazines, and mainstream news networks in the U.S.

As she further explains:

Journalists either learn how to do the kind of reporting that will advance their careers in the mass media, or they don’t learn and they either remain marginalized and unheard of or they get worn down and quit.

Christopher Hedges, who left The New York Times after a written reprimand for criticizing the Iraq War, has gone on to describe in disturbing detail how the U.S. media caters to the Israeli government, continually overlooking its war crimes. An outspoken critic of U.S. policy, Hedges has endured persecution for speaking the truth, including the cancellation of his news program for defending other writers and real journalists from charges of antisemitism.

Another outspoken critic, Mehdi Hasan, was dropped from MSNBC for speaking out over Palestine. As Sharon Zhang wrote after the decision, "Hasan has been one of the only news anchors on a major broadcast outlet speaking up against Israel's brutality." He was also one of the few news anchors who told the truth about Covid. As Hasan recently made clear in The Guardian, it's imperative for Democrats to take a stronger, pro-humanitarian stance on Gaza and break with Biden's approach, which has sparked outrage and disgust across the left.

Hasan makes a remarkable point in this column, looking to history for cues about how Democrats need to act to ensure history.

It's not vibes.

It's guts.

Nobody really remembers Hubert Humphrey, LBJ's vice president who lost the 1968 election to Richard Nixon by about a percentage point. It's a lesson worth talking about. Humphrey was losing badly because he couldn't stand up to his own party, the Democrats, who were actually very, very pro-Vietnam War. He managed to close the gap considerably in the 11th hour of the race, finally standing up to his own party and promising to end the war if he became president. Hasan wonders what would've happened if he had trusted his gut sooner.

Well, history gives us a few clues. After all, Nixon did end the war. In the decades since, the Vietnam War has gone down in history as one the biggest mistakes the U.S. ever made. Psychologists use it as a case study of entrapment in escalating conflicts. It's a touchstone used to rate our other failures.

Time and again, history tells us that doing the right thing actually serves political expedience far more than vibes.

Democrats could ensure a landslide victory if they would just take a clear stance on our biggest threats and challenges. They could be honest about Covid. They could stand up against mask bans. They could stand up against genocide. They could renew their promise to take on climate change.

We're not seeing that.

Instead, we see the same groupthink and indirect censorship that dominates the news media. It's not a surprise, given how entwined they've become.

Look at what's happening to Taylor Lorenz.

Outlets like The Washington Post and NPR, who pride themselves on their devotion to democracy and diversity, have assailed Lorenz for referring to Biden as "a war criminal" in a private social media post.

Here's the worst part of NPR's story:

Lorenz has also courted controversy, online, in print, and in real life. During the peak of the pandemic, and since its ebb, she has inspired mockery from conservatives over her insistence on wearing masks, even outdoors. She has cited autoimmune issues as the reason.

Look at the verbs here. Far from objective, they describe Lorenz as "insisting" on wearing a mask "even outdoors," and then frame her autoimmune issues not as a reality but as a reason, almost an excuse. For the record, multiple studies have shown that Covid spreads outdoors, especially at crowded events.

This is what writers and real journalists deal with as they try to do the right thing. It's disturbing to watch.

Both Jared Yates Sexton and Sarah Kendzior have expressed an ambivalent reluctance to get on board with the vibes as the DNC hosts their national convention. The kindest thing Sexton can say is that "It was a masterful feat of political theater" as organizers clambered to put down pro-Palestinian protests during speeches and tilted cameras away from violence and toward more soothing, therapeutic shots of Tim Walz with his family.

As Kendzior writes, "Today both the Democratic and Republican parties operate on cult logic, which means they sometimes have the same policies, but wrapped in different rhetoric--because cultists will abide anything so long as their leader is the one pushing it. Policies they would protest if they were carried out by the other side are suddenly deemed acceptable when pushed by their own."

The same goes for media coverage.

It's worth pointing out that Kamala Harris no longer supports a ban on fracking. She no longer supports a single-payer healthcare system, otherwise known as "Medicare for all" which would provide healthcare access to everyone. Her stance on border patrol and police funding have all shifted right. The media signs off on it, saying "Progressives said they’re disappointed but still support her as she works out the best strategy to defeat former President Donald Trump — even if it means leaving their cause behind."

But it's not just causes getting left behind.

It's human beings.

Is it simply a desire or a wish that nurses don't call security on us because we want to wear masks at an ER, like Meighan Stone? Do we have to leave our human rights behind so we can ensure our human rights?

Do we have to lay down our lives for vibes?

That's the current groupthink.

So there you have it.

The media doesn't report the truth. They spend about 1 percent of their time on things that actually matter. Politicians cater to an underinformed public, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy that leads to nurses calling security on immunocompromised patients for wearing a mask, while newspapers and networks fire real journalists for daring to do their jobs.

It's really something, isn't it?

It doesn't help when readers and viewers complain anytime someone salts their mood with the truth. In an era where free, independent content matters more than ever, it's also harder than ever to come by. How are content creators supposed to tell the truth or talk about things that matter when they're constantly being reprimanded, penalized, and punished every time they try?

We desperately need a free press, and we need a public that supports a free press and not silos of dueling echo chambers.

You get what you support.

It's that simple.

[myhauntedsalem]

Mary Ellen Spook Farm

In January of 1922, farmer Alexander MacDonald, his wife Janet, and their adopted daughter Mary Ellen fled their home in Caledonia Mills, Nova Scotia after a rash of poltergeist activity, including more than 30 unexplained fires. Though several researchers, journalists, detectives, and paranormal investigators would eventually examine the farm and house, the so-called “fire spook” was never fully explained.

The poltergeist activity that had plagued the household for almost an entire year included moving the cattle around when no one was in the barn, mixing ashes into the stored milk, and even braiding the tails of horses. Most notable, however, were the fires which earned the haunting its name.

The fires would spring up spontaneously all over the house and grounds, often far from the hearth or any other source of a spark. Everything from wallpaper to wet towels were said to burst into flame: it got so bad that the family organized a kind of “neighborhood watch” to guard against arsonists, though none were ever found. Eventually, the family fled the property for good.

Once the family moved out of the house, journalists and would-be paranormal investigators moved in. Even Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was invited to explore the phenomena. Some of the most notable accounts include those of Harold Whidden, a reporter from the Halifax Herald, and police detective Peachey Carroll, who spent two nights in the house. During this time they both experienced several odd events, including the feeling of being slapped on the arm and face by phantom hands. Whidden was so troubled by his experiences that he never published them in his lifetime, though they have since been released by his family.

Another prominent investigator who visited the home for several days was Dr. Walker Franklin Prince, who concluded that the poltergeist activity emanated from the family’s then-15-year-old adopted daughter, Mary Ellen–this in spite of the fact that Dr. Prince, himself, experienced no unusual phenomena during his stay. Members of the family were even brought back to the house during his investigation in an attempt to “trigger” the ghost. Dr. Prince did, however, report unexplained rapping noises in his office back in New York for several weeks after he had completed his investigation into the Caledonia Mills “Spook Farm.”

Unfortunately for Mary Ellen, Dr. Prince’s suggestion that she was the cause, albeit unknowingly, of the fires and other poltergeist activity stuck with her throughout her life. People began calling her Mary Ellen Spook, and, according to some accounts, she was even confined to an asylum for many years. Regardless of the cause, after she and her family moved away from the farm in Caledonia Mills, the phenomena ceased.

However, that wasn’t the end of the story of the Caledonia Mills Spook Farm. Over the years, several other explanations have been put forth as new detectives attempt to solve the mystery. Edward J. O’Brien, a lecturer who stopped off at the nearby St. Francis Xavier University, posited that the fires might have been caused by radio waves passing through Caledonia Mills between the radio towers at Wellfleet, Massachusetts, and Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, though to modern science that theory sounds perhaps even more preposterous than “fire spooks.”

Arsonist or no, the Caledonia Mills legend persists. Even today, long after the farm and house have disappeared, people say that if you take home any item from the property, your house will burn down. According to one couple, who call themselves P.O.N.I. (Pair of Normal Investigators), “This has been tested by regular every day people and the buildings always catch fire.”

[mrskreideprinz]

rhine x oc!august | minors dni

warnings: oc x canon, selfship lore, august goes by she/her as does rhine, toxic relationship, rhine has a short temper, hurt/comfort (i say comfort very lightly), angst, wrote this in tumblr drafts yeehaw.

a/n: they are gay alchemists your honor. i was gonna delete this whole thing but i decided to sleep it off and look at it tomorrow (today) and i'm glad i did because after reworking some things i genuinely enjoy this <3 anyway yeah a sneak peek into august and rhine's relationship hehe. not tagging anyone bc nervous foaisjdoiajsd

“Well.. that was uh..” August stared at the mess the two of them had created, coughing and waving away the black smoke enveloping them.

“A disaster.” Rhine replied bluntly, peeling off her gloves as she walked away. “Clean this shit up.”

“Uhm, Rhine, I was uh well, I was wondering..” August trailed off, fidgeting with her fingers and staring nervously at Rhinedottir.

Rhine groaned and spun around to glare at her. “Spit. It. Out.” She grew tired of her games.

August laughed nervously and cleared her throat. "Although, the experiment fell flat.. horribly.. dreadfully so.."

Rhinedottir snapped at her. "To the point, August!"

"Okay, well, what I'm trying to say is. Even though, everything was an absolute failure we are now closer to the truth and that's gotta count for something.. right?" August smiled, bearing her teeth in a nervous fashion.

Rhine turned around and walked towards a desk littered with various research notes and rummaged through the weathered paper. "No."

August frowned. This was not the answer she wanted, but it is the one she should've anticipated.

"I will not sit here and celebrate failure." Rhine opened up a large book filled with various of bookmarks. "Now, come here and help me."

August walked slowly over towards Rhine, anxious yet determined to turn the situation around. She wrapped her arms around her from behind and nuzzled her head against the back of Rhine’s neck. August knew all too well how much stress Rhinedottir was under. Or rather, how much pressure Rhine had put on herself. She needed some reprieve from all those late nights she spent working tirelessly.

“Rhine..” August’s voice was soothing yet teetering on the edge of a scolding. “How about you take a break with me. We could do something together?” She suggested, but Rhinedottir wanted absolutely none of that.

She let out a heavy sigh. “No, we have work to do.”

Still, August refused to back off. She begun to massage Rhine’s shoulders and hum something softly. Rhine growled and crumpled up a piece of paper she had clenched in her hand. Regardless, of how much she tried August could not seem to get her to relax. It was almost impossible.

“Will you get off of me?!” Rhinedottir shouted. “You’re pissing me off.”

August felt a part of her crawl back to life that she thought had long since died. Her ears flattened back as she let out a quiet whine. She only wanted to help, she hadn’t meant to..

Rhine sighed and pushed herself out of her chair. If there was one thing she despised more than failure it was August's incessant need to make everything worse than it already was. While August had retreated to cowering in a nearby corner of the wall, avoiding any and all eye contact with her supposed lover, Rhinedottir was more preoccupied with creating an open spot on the nearby couch for the two of them.

"Come here." She spoke calmly, trying her best to hide her frustration.

August shook her head. Still, trying her hardest to hide the tears that had betrayed her by falling down her face. She bit the inside of her cheek and stared down at the floor to avoid making eye contact with Rhinedottir. Foolish girl. She should've never forgotten how cruel the woman she loved truly was. How could she forget that a wolf would always take the chance to cage its fangs around a fawn's throat. August knew better than to trust someone like Rhine. Unfortunately, it was all she'd ever known, it was second nature to her. So, why wouldn't she trust Rhine? Why wouldn't she look into the eyes of the devil and smile.

Rhine spread her legs slightly and patted her thigh to signal August to approach her. "I said come here."

August sniffled and walked slowly towards Rhinedottir. For as impatient and selfish as Rhinedottir was she had an unusually high tolerance for the messes August created.

Eventually, August slowly walked towards Rhine and cautiously climbed onto her lap, hiding her face into Rhine's warm chest. It was surprising how feeling Rhine's heat and listening in on the steady thumping of her heartbeat did more for August's well being than anything had in quite a long time.

Her fingers curled around the fabric of Rhine's shirt. "S-Sorry.. for being s-so stupid.." She confessed shamefully.

Rhinedottir placed a comforting hand on the back of August's head and hummed a familiar song. August was well accustomed to this. Rhinedottir would lash out, feel the tiniest bit of regret upon seeing August pout, then she would give in and reassure August all was well even if it wasn't true. Especially if it wasn't true.

Neither of them said a word. For August it is because she is content, thawing herself out of her shell made of ice, but Rhinedottir is simply silent to enjoy one of the rare moments where August isn't agonizing over her or something she'd done wrong. Although, perhaps she could admit that the warmth resting underneath her palm was comforting.

[ransprang]

Kukulkan x history teacher! reader

You had studied so hard to finally live your dream. You taught History in a boarding school by the cliff, near the great open seas. The chirping of the sea gulls, swaying meadows, and the sound of the church bell nearby added to your peace. Everyday morning, you would wake up and prepare your syllabus for the day, you lived in a neat little room in the rustic staff quarters with a sea view. Your life was perfect, almost magical.

Another routine day, you compiled all your files and left for class. As the bell echoed across the hallways of the school, you could hear the soft waves crash against the cliff in the distance. You walked in your classroom and greeted the students, “Good morning everyone, today we will pack our bags and go for a short walk down to the coast”. You loved teaching kids out in the open, the room itself just never sufficed for sharing knowledge. All the kids clammered to gather their belongings, and getting into a single file. You led the way to the coast beneath the white cliffs.

Today's lesson was Captain Avery’s story, “you screamed Ahoy mateys! Let’s dive into the lesson…” the kids screamed “AHOYY” back at you in their chirpy voices. You spoke for about an hour before letting the kids take a break by playing at the beach. They went over and under the waves discussing their newly taught lesson and you joined in, making sure everyone was safe.

While swimming, you saw a beautiful bluish gold ornament. You reached out for it, as it got pulled away by a receding current. You swam a bit harder and finally got a hold of it. You brought it back to the shore and signaled the students to come out. You continued the history lesson back in the classroom but now you were keen to go back and discover this new piece of jewellery you had found.

That day you rushed back to your room to study this artifact, you brought out all your history books and research papers and went at it. After pulling an all-nighter your eyes finally shone with excitement. As you put the necklace out in the rays of the morning sun, it reflected vibranium. It glowed. How did you miss that?

This piece was from Talokan. You had heard about this empire of Mayans and their god Kukulkan, but did all that mythology exist? How was this ornament simply floating around? So many questions fogged your mind. But, you were determined. When the school holidays approached you spent your time in the library hiding this little secret from everyone, researching for several days.

You returned to class after the holidays with a renewed spirit and loads of new things to share! You liked giving knowledge outside of the syllabus, after all sharing is caring! You started off the first class of the semester with the mayapan history and their gods. You gave a brief introduction to Kukulkan and his powers. You decided to keep the necklace a secret but went ahead to draw and describe it. The kids loved your lesson.

During recess all the teachers could hear them talk about your class and one of the kid even declared himself to be Kukulkan and his friends the Mayans. Everyone was having a lot of fun, until a few weeks later. On a Saturday morning you heard a knock on your door, but as you opened it there was nobody. You thought nothing much of it. After a few minutes you heard the knocking again, and once again it was no one. You were beginning to get worried.

As you completed some admin work by your desk facing the window suddenly a blue human like creature broke the window pane and stepped on your table. You screamed, he was built up, he wore a water mask and was wearing similar ornaments as the one you had found. You screamed and fell back onto the floor, you dragged yourself back to the edge of the wall behind as he slowly took steps towards you. He spoke in a mysterious language you could not understand but when he held his hand out you had your suspicions, that it was to collect the necklace. You had a habit of keeping it in your pocket, so you held onto it with your life and ran.

You ran aimlessly and found yourself running by the edge of the cliff. The wind was blowing hard, and as this blue person drew closer, you had a moment to contemplate. Your eyes widened at the realization, you heart was beating fast. This was a Mayan, he was here to take the necklace back to whoever it belonged to. This was your biggest discovery how could you let it go so easily?

You ran for your life but he was fast, chasing you down the cliff side, in a sudden hasteful movement your ankle twisted, making you tip directly off the edge. You fell with your eyes closed, a tear dripping from the side of your eye. You felt the arms of the person chasing you wrap around and dive into the ocean beneath. You opened your eyes in shock and pain from the water threatening to enter your lungs. Eventually, you became unconscious, unaware of your surroundings.

You woke up again by the shore near the school you taught at. The ornament was missing, they took it back. Your heart wrenched, you wanted to see more, learn more. Curiosity stronger than gratefulness of being alive. With a sinking feeling you went back to your room.

Life went on, the incident had drove you to the verge of insanity. Your focus was telling as many people about the existence of Talokan and the Mayans, undeniably starting from your own students. Your deviation from syllabus was enough for the school authorities to step in to have a word with you. “YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I saw them with my own eyes, the kids need to know. Everyone does” you cried to the panel before you, over the next year, you had began writing emails to the marine life authorities and anyone who was relevant.

As the summer holidays approached again, you had already spent most of your free time swimming in the sea over the year. Standing by the shore alone staring into the distance hoping to catch a glimpse. This time you arranged for a boat, you didn’t have a license to drive it, but fueled it by with your passion. You managed to figure out the mechanics enough to take you far and deep into the blue ocean. You stayed there for a bit before screaming “KUKULKAN!” You were all alone. “I know you’re here, I can feel it”, “KUKULKAN…!” You screamed loudly with tears again.

To your dismay no one came forth, you had failed again. You sat in the boat and looked up at the darkening skies, a storm was about to ensue. You had no faith in life, that incident had shaken you up, plus you didn’t have any intention of going back to the shore. At least, not for now. A part of you wanted to be swallowed by the ocean in this storm. You closed your eyes and patiently waited to be capsized. The winds were blowing fast, the waves got bigger. Water had began seeping into your boat and thunders lightened the sky.

Your hair stood up, you could feel the static. The instant realization dawned upon you. Lightening was about to strike your head. As your survival instincts kicked in you began looking for a place to cover yourself, but, it was an open boat in the deep ocean, no where to hide. You were about to die.

As the lightening struck, you felt yourself shake and scream. Just then, you were in someone’s arms, floating above the sea close to the waves. You could hear feathers flapping, and his arms strong and hands rough. The man was wet from the ocean, his hair dripping water. He wore turquoise, blue and gold ornaments all over his body. You noticed the wings on his feet, you instantly knew it was Kukulkan.

You hugged him tightly, resting your face over his shoulder as he flew horizontally over the big waves and through the storm. Tears began forming in your eyes. He came, why did he listen to you? He was flying fast, you both were drenched in the rain water. With one swoop he dropped you at the shore of a nearby island. He kept you down on your feet as he stood before you in his majestic stance. You were mesmerized by how accurately the ancients described him. Honey brown skin, dark hair and deep brown eyes, he was beautiful.

He spoke in a heavy accent, “you called for me…” his eyebrow slightly raised. He seemed slightly impressed at your dedication to the people of Talokan, but he had to step in. You were reaching far and wide, looking for anyone believed you. This brought his kingdom under threat. “Thank you for saving me….thank you…for listening to me”, you said breaking down. A warm feeling rose in your chest, you had idealized Kukulkan for so long you seemed to have began loving him in your mind and fantasies. He seemed to understand that, but he was a 600 year old god. There was nothing he hadn’t already seen. He had loved before, and he had lost them all before. The pain from the fragile life span of his lovers had dulled his feelings.

He kept a firm hand on your cheek, he was strong, but there was pain in his eyes. “I want you to forget about Talokan, the dangers of other nations attacking us is too strong. The pain is hard. I know. You must let go before you get yourself in trouble.” As he turned around to leave, you ran and hugged him from the back. “Please take me with you, you know I won’t be the same…” he stopped. Turning around he wrapped his arms around you taking you into his embrace.

You both stayed that way for a while, as he pulled away and took off his necklace. You noticed it was the one you found a year ago, as he gently tied it around your neck. “It suits you” , he said in his deep voice, you gave him a smile. Looking into his eyes your body instinctively tip toed as you put your lips on his. The moment was magical, as the rain droplets fell upon you two, the high tide crashed onto the shore with wet sand. Both your hearts beating against each other.

Kukulkan melted and his arms around you got tighter. He was kissing you with all his heart. You felt his love. Digging your nails into his back you pulled him closer till there was no space between you two. You both became one for a few moments, with tongues tangled. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Kukulkan's eyes slowly opened, as he moved one of his arms from your lower back to your head, intertwining his fingers with your locks. The fear of losing someone had kept him away from loving for years now. How could he let himself become so weak? He broke a piece of Vibranium from his bracelet, the size of a small pill. Putting it in his palm - “eat it, if you want to go far away” you didn’t think twice and swallowed.

You spent the rest of your life next to the man of your dreams, of your fantasies, the man who drove you insane without ever meeting you. In the end you gave the strength to feel again.

Your Vibranium,

Admin Sav

[theresthesnitch]

What we do to get by, Part 13

Read the rest here. 

***

Going out with Remus became a regular thing, and Sirius loved it. He’d had to convince Remus a few times, but several nights over the next few weeks, they ended up going. In the beginning, he found more reasons to celebrate. 

“Remus! We have to go out again. My patient is improving!" 

Remus looked at him with furrowed brows. "Didn't we already celebrate that?" 

Sirius couldn't dim his smile. "You don't understand. He might get to go home soon!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Alright. Fine. Let's go again." 

Sirius started looking for reasons to celebrate, anything to get Remus to let him take him to a pub. 

Healer Donohue told me I did well! You don't understand Moony, it's like a huge deal. He hates everyone. 

I solved a new case today! Everyone else was stumped!

I didn't punch an arsehole today! 

One day, he managed to convince Remus to celebrate after he received some good news of his own. It all started when James stopped by, with a clever smile and bouncing on his toes like he had a secret he couldn’t wait to share. 

“So, Moony dear. I have some good news for you, if you’re interested.” James wagged his eyebrows at Remus. “A job.” 

Remus’s brows furrowed, a deep crease between them. “Alright. Who is the party for?”

James waved a hand in front of his face. “Not that kind of job. My dad knows this guy, Mr. Scamander, who is doing research on magical creatures, the kind of stuff you talked about doing one day. He’s looking for an assistant, and he’s hoping to find someone who can take over for him when he retires in a few years.” 

Sirius watched Remus as James talked, and watched his face fall as James talked. When he finished, Remus shook his head. “I can’t, James. I don’t have the N.E.W.T.s for that. I don’t even have any O.W.L. results.” 

“Dad worked it out. He got some friend of his at the Ministry to pull your canceled results.” James pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Remus. “You did really well, actually. Better than we did. Five Os and three Es. Dad shared them with Mr. Scamander, and he’s willing to take you on with these results.”

“James, I can’t.” Remus looked honestly disappointed, glancing up from his results. “It would only last until the first full moon, or the second, and then your dad will be on the outs with him because of me. I appreciate it, but I can’t–” 

“He already knows, Remus. He doesn’t care.” 

“How is that possible?” Remus asked, incredulously. “There’s no way he actually doesn’t care.” 

James folded his hands in front of him. “You see, Mr. Scamander’s wife had lycanthropy. She was bitten shortly after they were married, and he spent his whole life watching her change. So, no. He’s not going to fire you after a few moons. More than anyone, he understands.” 

Remus went quiet for a long time, and they waited. Remus chewed on his bottom lip, thinking over the offer. “He’s not–” Remus sighed, running a hand over his face. “He doesn’t just want to study me? I mean– I’m not one of the creatures he wants to study.” 

James shook his head, a smile on his face. “He’s actually in contact with one of the local wolf packs, and regularly works with the pack leader. It’s just a job, Remus. If you want it.” 

Remus pursed his lips together, and it almost looked like he was angry. Except, Sirius noticed the way his breaths were slightly shaky, and he knew that Remus was trying to hold back tears.

Sirius wasn’t sure when he’d learned to read Remus again, but he wasn’t surprised at all when Remus accepted a moment later. 

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Let’s celebrate!” 

Remus didn’t protest at all. 

*** 

It was easier to get Remus to agree when James and Peter came too. He suspected that Remus wanted to go too, as much as he fought the offer, especially when Sirius’s excuses became more and more flimsy. Sirius’s personal favorite was I found trousers that I thought didn’t fit, and they look great on me. Surely Remus wanted to go out if that was an excuse he would accept found my trousers as a reason to go out and celebrate. 

Eventually, he stopped offering a reason, and merely asked Remus if he fancied a trip to the pub. Remus shrugged and accepted, and Sirius was thrilled. 

*** 

They lingered at the pub one day, and Sirius let Remus buy him a round out of his first paycheck. Sirius didn't mind, and Remus was so happy to finally be able to do it. 

They sipped their drinks, bellies full of greasy chips, and the conversation stayed light. Or at least it did until Remus's brow furrowed. "Padfoot, can I ask you something?" 

"Absolutely. Anything, Moony." Sirius didn't even have to think about it. He'd give Remus anything he needed. 

Remus spun his glass on the table, leaving a wet ring when he picked it up and drank deeply. He set it down again with a sigh. "Would you tell me the list?" 

"The list?" 

Remus tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, and he seemed incapable of looking at Sirius now. "You said you could write a whole list of things about me that weren't bad. Maybe you were just being hyperbolic, because I don't think there are actually that many things about me that are okay, but I think, if you were serious, I'd really like to hear them." Remus looked up at him, still not quite meeting his eyes. "I think maybe I need to hear it." 

Sirius didn't answer immediately. He picked up his glass and took a long sip to buy himself time. He set it back down with a clank, and Remus flinched. "Can I have some time to think about it, or do you need it now?" 

Remus looked surprised, then looked away again. "Oh, um. Yeah. You can have some time. 'Course." 

They drank quietly for a while, and Sirius was already trying to make a list in his head. He wanted to put thought into this, to do it right, so that maybe Remus would believe him. His eyes caught on Remus, after a bit, who was chewing on his lip and looking concerned. 

Sirius couldn’t help but smile. “Wonderful, by the way.” 

Remus’s eyes shot to him. “What?”

“The list?” Sirius leaned forward on his hand, elbow on the table. “It was a list of all the wonderful things about you. Not ‘okay’ or ‘good.’” Sirius shrugged. “I could make that list too, but this is going to be a list of all the most wonderful things about you.”

Remus looked down, a small smile teasing his lips, but Sirius could tell he didn’t believe it. “Alright, if you say so.” 

“I do.” Sirius took another drink. “You’ll see.” 

*** 

Sirius scratched out another item on his list and banged his head against the wall. It wasn’t that all the things he came up with weren’t true. He just didn’t think Remus would believe him. He could tell him that he was kind and smart and funny, but Remus would never be able to see it if he wrote it that way. 

“Whatcha doing?”

Sirius jumped, nearly falling off the step he was sitting on in the St. Mungo’s stairwell. “Merlin’s pubic lice, Evans! I’m going to put a fucking warning charm on you. You’re quiet as a mouse.” 

“It’s Potter now. And How do you think I make sure my husband stays out of trouble?” Lily sat down on the step below him, stretching her legs out over the riser. “Gotta sneak up on him.” 

Sirius snorted. “I’m sure it also helps that he tells you everything as soon as he does it, too.” 

Lily smiled. “Yes, well, must keep him on his toes anyway.” Lily nodded at the parchment in his hand. “What are you doing?”

Sirius sighed, and handed it to her. “I told Remus that I would have to make a list of all the wonderful things about him if he kept insulting himself. He called my bluff and asked for the list. Turns out, it’s a lot harder to write that list than I expected.” 

Lily hummed and folded the paper. “So don’t write a list.”

“I can’t just not write it, Evans. He told me he needs it.” 

She pinched his arm. “It’s Potter, you berk, but Remus doesn’t need a list.” 

Sirius snatched it back from her. “That’s what he said.” 

“Yes, well, he may have said it, but you and I both know that’s not what he’s looking for.” Lily pulled her knees up and rested her forearms on her legs. “He needs to hear there’s something in him worth loving. That’s not going to be found on some list.” 

Sirius sighed. “You’re probably right, but how do I tell him that?”

Lily shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

“So helpful. Thank you.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

Lily laughed, nudging his arm. “I could tell you, but you and I both know that you know him better. I think that whatever you come up with will be far better than any suggestion I have.” 

“You assume I’m going to come up with something.” 

“I know you will.” Lily laid her head back against the wall. “Just think about Remus. How would Remus best hear it?”

Sirius hummed as he looked back down at his parchment. How would Remus best hear it?

*** 

“Did you know that old wizarding family houses have blood purity traps?” Sirius sat cross-legged in the chair next to the bed. “I knew this one house that would drop anyone with less than pure blood eight generations back through a trapdoor under the welcome mat into the basement.” 

“No way.” Colin leaned forward on his hands, elbows on his knees. “What if you had guests come over? Or a party?”

“Oh, for shame if you invite someone with dirty blood.” Sirius let out a faux shudder. “Of course, you might get in particular trouble if the Minister of Magic pays a visit to your house and gets stuck in the basement.” 

“Oh no, did that really happen?”

“It did.” Sirius laughed. “I swear, I’ve never seen the Minister so angry. It doesn’t help that he was trapped in a room with several illegal dark artifacts. He ended up arresting my uncle rather than staying for tea.” 

“Your uncle!” Colin fell back laughing. “That’s terrible.” 

“Honestly, he deserved worse. He got out the same day.” 

Colin smiled wickedly. “The Minister or your uncle?”

Sirius laughed. “Both, actually.” Sirius reached forward and clapped a hand on Colin’s knee. “So let me see your curse. I hear it’s nearly gone!” 

Colin smiled so widely that Sirius couldn’t help but smile too. He pulled his shirt back, revealing a nearly faded mark. “See? It’s barely there. I think it might actually go away this time.” 

Sirius reached out, running his fingers along the curse trails. “I hope you’re right. It looks much better.” 

“I know I’m right.” Colin pulled his shirt down when Sirius removed his hand. “It’s going to go away, and mum says I might be able to go to Hogwarts for my last years. Can you imagine, Sirius?” 

“Well, let’s not get ourselves too excited. You’ve still got a long way to go.” 

Colin shook his head, infectious smile on his face. “Nah, I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to get to go to Hogwarts, and it’s all thanks to you, Sirius.” 

Sirius leaned forward on his hands. “I’m really glad we found something, Colin.” 

“Me too.” Colin sighed, laying back in his bed dramatically. “I am disappointed about one thing, though.” 

“What’s that?”

“I’m not going to get to hear the end of the roommate story.” Colin clicked his tongue disappointedly. “You’re going to have to write to me and tell me how you got together with him. I want the whole thing written out in detail, for posterity sake.” 

Sirius scoffed. “I don’t think you should hold your breath on that one, buddy. We’re just friends. There’s no story to te–” Sirius sat up a little straighter. “Colin, you’re a bloody genius.” 

“I know, I’m told all the time.” Colin shrugged. “What did I do this time?”

Sirius laughed. “You just gave me the answer to a problem.” 

“Are you being cryptic on purpose?” Colin grasped his chest and fell back. “I’m a dying boy. You can’t tease me like that.” 

“Hey, I thought you weren’t dying anymore?” Sirius laughed. 

Colin shrugged. “I hafta use all the tools in my toolbox.” 

“Well, you’re just going to have to see.” Sirius uncurled his legs and stood up from the chair. “Right now, I’ve got important business to tend to."

Sirius held the thick envelope in his hands, running his thumbs over the smooth paper. The parchment had weight to it–metaphorically as well as physically. Sirius had poured himself entirely into the letter, letting every feeling he’d never been able to say flow out of him and imbue itself into the words on the page. It had taken several pages and several drafts, but the final pages were sealed into this envelope in his hands. Sirius carried it in front of him, looking at it as though it carried his entire world in it. 

It felt like it carried his entire world. 

He found Remus sitting in the living room, curled up in the corner of the couch with a book propped up on his knees. Sirius smiled at the way his eyebrows were furrowed, concentrating on his book. He looked up when Sirius sat down by his feet. 

Sirius ran his finger along the edge of the letter, then handed it to Remus. “This is for you.”

Remus looked at it in confusion as he took it. “It is? Did I get a letter?”

“Uh, sort of.” Sirius gathered his hair up in a bun behind his head and let it go. “I wrote you a letter.” 

Remus looked up from the parchment, hands now completely still. “You wrote it?”

“You asked for a list.” Sirius looked away. “It’s not exactly a list, but I think–Well, I hope you like it.” 

“Oh.” Remus looked down at the envelope for a moment, then began to pull it open. 

Sirius made a choked noise. “Are you going to read it now?”

Remus froze, the flap of the envelope half up. “Is that alright?”

“No, yeah. That’s fine. That’s great.” Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. “You can read it whenever you want.” 

“I don’t have to read it now if you don’t want.” Remus pushed the flap closed again. “I can give it back if you’d rather I didn’t read it at all.” 

“No, go ahead.” Sirius stood up, feeling suddenly like he couldn’t breathe in the small room. “I think–I’m going to go. See James. I’ll be back later, but you–you read that.” 

Sirius walked out the door without a backwards look and apparated straight to Godric’s Hollow. He walked in without knocking, finding James sitting with Lily’s legs draped over his on their couch. They looked up when he walked in. 

“I need to run. Can we run?” 

James set Lily’s legs on the floor, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he stood up. “Are we running, or are we running?” 

“Padfoot and Prongs.” Sirius could feel himself bouncing with nervous energy. “I need to run.” 

James walked to the door. “Let’s go, then.” 

The nice thing about Godric's Hollow is that it butted right against a small wooded area, and James and Sirius could transform right at the edge of the yard. 

They ran. 

They ran until Sirius couldn't feel anything, wasn't thinking about anything except for the way the forest floor felt under his paws and the wind felt in his fur. All the questions and uncertainty fell away in Padfoot’s mind. He didn’t have the capacity to worry about Remus. All Padfoot could think was run fast. 

The nice thing about going with James is that he didn’t press Sirius to talk about it. He could feel James's eyes on him as they shifted back, waiting for Sirius to bring it up, but he didn't press when Sirius wished him good night at the back door. 

Unfortunately, all the calm he found in Padfoot fell away as he apparated home. Sirius stood in front of his flat door, staring at it and unable to open it. Remus had the letter. Remus had the letter that laid out every good thing that Sirius had ever felt about him. 

It was fine. So Remus knew, now. Really knew. It was fine, and Sirius would go in there, and he would deal with whatever Remus’s reaction was. Probably, he wouldn’t believe it. 

Sirius pushed the door open, and Remus looked up from where he was sitting on the couch. He looked like he hadn’t moved since Sirius left, with the pages of his letter strewn across his legs. Remus looked up, catching his eyes, and Sirius couldn’t begin to explain the churning of emotions that he saw in Remus’s eyes. 

Sirius closed the door and leaned against it. “You read it.” 

“A few times.” Remus begins sorting the pages. “Did you mean it?”

“Every word.” Answering feels like it is pulling something out of Sirius, like he’s giving some part of himself up, but he can’t deny Remus this answer.

“I don’t understand. I’m not all of these things.” He looks down at the pages again, like maybe the answer to his confusion is somewhere within between the lines of black ink. 

“You are, though.” Sirius doesn’t move closer, because he doesn’t trust himself to stay away. “To me, you are all of that.” 

Remus stacked the papers together and set them in his lap, crossing an arm over his chest and chewing on his thumbnail. Sirius waited, wondering what reaction Remus would have. When he looked up again, his expression was blank, and Sirius got nothing from him.

“Thank you.” 

Sirius looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Thank me?”

“For writing it. I didn’t honestly think you would.” Remus tucked a stray curl behind his ear.

“Of course I did.” Sirius finally took a few more steps into the apartment, taking off his shoes by the door. “I told you I would.” 

Remus spoke from somewhere behind him. “No, you said you’d think about it. I thought you had just wanted to drop it.” 

“Oh, I meant I wanted to think over the list. Like what to include.” He placed his shoes on the mat. 

“Oh.” He could hear the blush in Remus’s cheeks before he turned around to see it. Remus wasn’t looking at him, and he was caught up in the way the blush decorated his cheeks. “Well, thank you. I, um. I think I’m going to go to bed. Unless you wanted to…” 

Remus let his voice trail off, and Sirius feels like there was something more in that question than what he was prepared to answer. “Goodnight, Remus.” 

“Right. Goodnight.” 

*** 

Sirius was bouncing on his feet as Healer Donohue, the head healer, looked through Colin’s tests and records. It was good. It looked really good–far better than they had ever expected Colin to look again. The plant that Sirius had found–the potion that he had brewed with it–seem to have worked. Colin was healed, or close enough to it that he could finish the treatment at home until the last lingering touch of the curse in his body was gone. He just needed Healer Donohue to sign off on it. 

“Everything looks in order.” He closed the file, running his fingers across Colin’s curse marks once more. “The potion has worked far better than we expected it to, and I think it’s time for you to go home. Congratulations.” He handed the file to Sirius. “Good work, Black. Finish the discharge?”

“Yes, sir.” Sirius nodded as Donohue headed out. When the door closed behind him, Colin and his mum erupted in cheers that put a wide smile on Sirius’s face. “Well, what do you think of that, Colin?”

“I get to go home!” He jumped on top of his bed and launched himself at Sirius, who barely managed to catch him without falling. Sirius laughed and set him back on the bed. “I get to go home, and it’s all thanks to you.” 

“It was my pleasure, Colin.” 

His mum grabbed Sirius’s arms and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me my child back. I never thought it was possible.” 

Sirius couldn’t help the fact that he was a little misty-eyed for the rest of the discharge. 

*** 

Sirius couldn’t sit when he got home. Colin was home and well, and that called for a celebration. He drug Remus, James, Lily, and Peter to a new pub, one that had drink specials and a dance floor, and he let himself enjoy it. He was out with his best friends, his patient was recovering, Remus was home. 

Remus was home, and when he pulled Remus onto the dance floor, despite his protest, he let himself feel at home, finally, with Remus. 

Peter left first, claiming he had an early work meeting the next day. Lily led James off the dance floor with the whispered promise of something he could find at home that he couldn’t find in the beat of a song. Remus stayed, and Sirius couldn’t find it in him to end the night early. 

“Another drink?” Sirius asked. 

Remus smiled. “Absolutely.” 

Sirius ordered them shots with beer chasers, and after downing them quickly, he pulled Remus back to the dance floor. He made no protest this time, and let Sirius wrap his arms around his waist. They danced, pressed close together, and the air was hot between them. Remus’s lips were inches away from his. He could tilt his head down just a bit, or Remus could look up at him again, and their lips would touch. Sirius couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

After a few songs, they broke apart and headed for the bar again. One shot each, and then they stumbled back to the dance floor. Remus pulled him closer this time, and they moved in perfect rhythm to the song. For a moment, in the middle of a song, their eyes met, and Sirius thought that Remus might kiss him. 

He didn't. 

"Let's get another drink." Remus didn't let go of his hand as they made their way to the bar. This is a bad idea, Sirius thought, but he swallowed the shot Remus passed him and followed him back to the dance floor. 

Sirius could feel the alcohol running through his blood, pushing him toward Remus. There was no longer air between them, and instead they were pressed flush together. Sirius could see the way Remus flushed in the dim lights, and he wanted to taste his freckles. 

Sirius should stop; he knew he should. He just didn't want to.

Eventually, they stumbled out of the pub, and too drunk to apparate, decided to walk home. (It was several minutes before Sirius remembered Remus couldn't apparate and that might have explained his request to walk home.) 

Sirius shivered, and found Remus's arm around his shoulder. Remus stumbled, and Sirius grabbed his hand to steady him. They made it home and up the stairs, laughing over how difficult they were to navigate in their current state. 

Sirius went to unlock the door, and Remus stumbled into him just as it opened. They nearly fell into a pile on the floor, but caught themselves just in time. When they righted themselves again, they were kissing. 

Sirius honestly wasn't sure who started it, but it didn't matter. Remus's lips slotted against his, tasting like tequila and lime and something so inherently Remus, and Sirius couldn't be arsed to care who started it. Remus found the hem of Sirius's shirt, and the cold tips of his fingers against Sirius's skin shocked Sirius back into what they were doing. 

“Remus–” 

“No, Sirius.” Remus pulled Sirius closer by the collar of his shirt, pressing their foreheads together. “I want this.” 

“I can’t– Remus.” 

“Please, Sirius.” Remus kissed him again, and Sirius didn’t stop him. “I’ve never been with someone just because I wanted to. Please? If you still want me too.” 

“I’ll always want you, Remus. Until the day I die.”

Sirius pushed him into the wall and kissed him, fiercely. Perhaps it was a mistake, but Sirius pushed every thought and every feeling he’d felt for Remus for the last several years through the kiss. By the way Remus gasped, Sirius thought he might have understood. 

Sirius broke the kiss and sank to his knees, pushing Remus against the wall. Sirius popped the button and slid his trousers and pants down to his knees as Remus threaded his fingers into Sirius’s hair. Sirius wrapped his hand around Remus, feeling the weight of him in his hand and then on his tongue as he swallowed him down. 

It was everything and nothing like what Sirius had imagined in all of those years he’d pictured finally getting to taste Remus. Remus kept a firm but passive hand in his hair, and Sirius lost himself in the feeling of it. 

When Remus came, it was with Sirius’s name on his lips, and Sirius swallowed down every drop. Remus pulled him to stand again, pulling him into a kiss that tasted of come and tequila. 

“Your turn.” Remus gripped his bulge through the front of his trousers. 

Sirius took a step back. “No.” 

Remus leaned against the wall, flushed cheeks and softening cock, and looked at Sirius with a million emotions in his eyes. “What?” 

“No, Remus. It’s not my turn.” Sirius took another step away, and it felt like he was leaving himself on the floor at Remus’s feet. 

“It’s alright, Sirius. I want to make you feel good too.”

Sirius shook his head. “I can’t, Remus. Not while– you don’t owe me anything, Remus.” 

“But you just– I want to return the favor.” Remus licked his lips, and Sirius nearly closed the distance. “I know it’s not an obligation, Sirius.” 

“It still feels like it.” Using all the remaining willpower he had, Sirius turned and walked back to his bedroom. “Good night, Remus.” Without looking back, he shut his bedroom door.

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sunday #31:

Zuma, Part 4

Thanks for putting up with the piecemeal approach I'm taking for one of Neil's all time great records this week. Shakey often collages his records together from different eras, different bands and different moods so I feel justified in taking the same approach here. Zuma is loud, lovely and runs the gamut from hopeful to harrowing. And that's just Side 1!

Today let's flip the record and drop the needle on the album's two most problematic - but still awesome - tracks: Stupid Girl and Drive Back...

At some point in college my graduation requirements dictated that I take Sociology 101. I was a good boyfriend and an equally good student - always on time and meeting my obligations - but I was also a bit of a pretentious jerk, alternatively focused on vital topics such as E.M. Forster's colonial biases and the campus-wide compost program. Intro to Soc struck me as soft, beneath my level. Like I said, I was a bit of jerk.

Anyway, the course asked for a final paper on a topic of your choice. Other students spent weeks doing research into houselessness, mental illness and the human condition. I did no research whatsoever and wrote my 15+ page paper in one sitting, starting at 10pm the night before it was due. My thesis: classic rock is a hotbed for misogyny.

No research was needed because I played records all night while I wrote and every new album contained yet another topic for discussion. A young George Harrison, who'd go on to be a serial adulterer, pronounced his lady friend dead if she so much as looked at another man; Van Morrison considered every female he encountered as both a sex object and as a "little girl". Creepy stuff.

The paper wrote itself and I got a big fat A which I surely did not deserve. Art has - so far! - almost always served as a vehicle for patriarchy; the teacher should have given me a C- and said thank you for your contribution Captain Obvious.

Stupid Girl may be Shakey's greatest contribution to the whole hateful genre of man hate towards other genders. Not only does Neil spend the entire song telling the lady in question that she is dumb over and over again, he does it - thanks again in large part to David Briggs' menacing production approach - with venom and conviction.

Just listen to Neil's double tracked vocals. He hates ladies in every possible octave:

I am tempted to defend my musical hero by pointing out all the songs in which he sings with earnest praise for women of all kinds and by arguing that Stupid Girl is an aberration in his art. But then I remember a long ago NPR interview with his poor second wife Pegi, whom he summarily dumped not long before she died of cancer, and I feel that defending him here may be a well, stupid, move.

Neil's complicated, that's for sure. I'm glad I'm not married to him, and I'm glad my sister isn't either. But meanwhile, Stupid Girl freakin' rocks.

And so does Drive Back.

I long considered this song problematic only in the sense that it was not as incredibly awesome as the rest of Zuma. Why include this workmanlike track instead of any of the other essential songs Young had on hand at that point; we're talking Powderfinger (or Big Waves as it was known as way back in the After the Goldrush era), Sedan Delivery, White Line, not to mention the rest of Homegrown...

My entire attitude shifted, however, as soon as I heard Neil's Odeon/Budokan record in official release; there Drive Back sounds like a song David Briggs, Neil, you and me can get behind. It's frantic; it's taut; it cooks. It's on fire.

It's Neil Young.

[kyouryokusenshi]

Can you write a fic where Scully is scared that she's going into early labor but she isnt and Mulder is the calm one?

False Alarm

@today-in-fic

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a soft silver glow through the curtains of the Unremarkable House. Scully lay in bed, her hands resting on her rounded belly, feeling the steady rhythm of their baby's movements. Scully was grateful for this period of time, not working at the hospital or the FBI. This lull was almost completely foreign as she had worked continuously since their time on the run all those years ago.

As the clock ticked past midnight, a wave of discomfort washed over her. At first, she dismissed it as the usual aches and pains that came with being heavily pregnant, but the sensation intensified. A tightening sensation gripped her abdomen, followed by a sharp pang of pain.

Scully's heart raced as her mind leaped to the worst-case scenario: she was only seven months into her pregnancy, and this couldn't possibly be labor. Not now. Not when the baby wasn't due for another two months. Panic tightened its grip on her, and she felt a knot of fear forming in her chest.

"Mulder," she whispered, nudging her sleeping husband beside her.

Mulder stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he looked at Scully, concern etched across his face. "Scully, what's wrong?"

Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to find her voice. "Mulder, I think... I think I'm having contractions."

Mulder's gaze softened as he reached out to stroke her hair gently. "Hey, hey, it's going to be okay."

Scully nodded, her breathing shaky as she followed Mulder's calming presence. Together, they started timing the contractions, and as they did, Mulder's soothing words and steady hand helped Scully regain some semblance of control over her racing thoughts.

"Scully, the contractions are irregular and not very frequent. It might be a false alarm. Remember what the doctor said about Braxton Hicks contractions? It's normal for your body to practice, to prepare for the real thing."

The medical professional within her was well aware that Braxton Hicks contractions were frequent in the later stages of pregnancy; nonetheless, the mother in her couldn't overlook the reality that this particular pregnancy was exceptionally high-risk. Nevertheless, the fact that Mulder spent many nights of endless research on what to expect while expecting was not lost on her.

Scully's worried gaze met Mulder's, seeking solace in his words. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "But, Mulder, something doesn't feel right," Scully replied, her voice quivering slightly. "I've been having these cramps, and she's been moving so much tonight. What if I'm going into early labor?"

Mulder walked over to her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "Hey, look at me," he said softly. "We've been through so much together, and we've faced far scarier things than this. If it turns out to be early labor, we'll handle it. But right now, we need to stay calm and rational."

Scully looked into Mulder's eyes, finding the strength she needed in his unwavering confidence. She nodded slowly, taking another deep breath.

"You're right," she said, her voice steadier now. "I guess tend to let my imagination run wild sometimes."

He smirked. “Hey, that’s my job. Leave that to me.”

Scully laughed, and he smiled before pressing his lips against her forehead.

He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "It's okay to be scared, Scully. We're in this together. And if it does turn out to be something more, we'll handle it. We're prepared for whatever comes our way."

Scully managed a weak smile, her hand finding Mulder's and squeezing it. "I know. Thank you, Mulder."

Mulder smiled gently and pulled her into a comforting embrace. "It will be okay, Scully. I believe in you, and I believe in our little miracle," he said, placing his hand on the cocoon that housed their daughter. He often imagined their daughter, safe and secure near her mother’s heart.

Scully rested her head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat against her cheek. The warmth of his embrace eased her fears, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of his breathing.

After a few moments, Mulder pulled back slightly and brushed a strand of hair away from Scully's face. "Why don't we try something to help you relax? Maybe a warm bath or some soothing music?"

Scully nodded appreciatively. "A bath sounds good. Thank you, Mulder."

As they made their way to the bathroom, Scully felt a renewed sense of calm settling over her. Mulder's steady presence and logical reasoning were like a lifeline, grounding her in the midst of her anxieties.

In the quiet serenity of the bathroom, Scully sunk into the warm bath, letting the soothing water envelop her. Mulder sat on the edge of the tub, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on her belly. Together, they shared a moment of tranquility, the worries of the night slowly fading into the background.

Scully smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude for the man by her side. "How did I get so lucky?"

Mulder leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I ask myself that same question all the time.”

As she soaked in the warmth of the bath, Scully found herself relaxing, the earlier panic subsiding. With Mulder's unwavering support and calm presence, she knew they could handle anything that came their way—even the uncertainties of pregnancy.

As the night wore on, the contractions gradually eased, becoming less frequent and less intense. Eventually, exhaustion won over fear, and Scully found herself drifting off to sleep, her head resting on Mulder's shoulder.

Mulder remained awake, his gaze fixed on the gentle rise and fall of Scully's chest as she slept. He knew that the road ahead was unpredictable, but he was determined to be the steady presence she needed, the one who could balance her moments of panic with his calm reassurance. It was an incredible role reversal he hadn’t expected.

And so, under the silver moonlight, Mulder held Scully close, ready to face whatever challenges the coming days might bring, together.

[rosyjuly]

Dear Senior Research Fellow July,

Could we the people have some behind the scenes thoughts about the things that happened in WTB Mick’s miserable day to make him say this:

“I could smell you all day,” Mick tells him. His grip on Seb’s hips is so tight it’ll most likely leave his brand there for days. Good.

“Well, I wasn’t wearing blockers,” Seb says, just to be difficult. “What did you smell?”

“That you were angry,” Mick says right into his ear. “And so, so wet,”…

this picks up on a lot of themes from your lovely lovely mick's pov ficlet, please everyone help yourselves to that too!

the door slams closed behind sebastian. 

the impact of his fist on the cushion of the massage table isn’t satisfying: it doesn’t help the hot fury rolling in his stomach, but he can’t risk fucking up his hand with punching the wall. mick wants to scream, wants to do something, anything, that will quieten the storm in his chest. 

he stays in his driver’s room for another five minutes, carefully doing breathing exercises, but he can’t stop seeing seb’s face when he closes his eyes, how his mouth dropped open in shock, the minute flinch of his whole body. how he tilted his head to snap at mick–

at least you couldn’t knock me up.

not for a lack of wanting, not on mick’s part– but they haven’t talked about seb’s heat since it passed. it would be unbecoming of mick to bring it up. and anyway, he thought that with the end of the season approaching, they’ll have time to discuss it. seb keeps saying it: that he’ll have all the time in the world, that he’ll have to figure out what he wants to do next. there’s something soft in his smile when he says that, something almost shy, his eyes sweeping down on mick’s body. 

he finally goes downstairs a good ten minutes later after splashing some cold water on his face and neck. before he even makes it out of the hospitality, someone takes ahold of his arm. 

“i don’t need to know what just happened,” laura says, the dictaphone tucked under her elbow. “but you need to go back upstairs and put your blockers on.” 

mick doesn’t argue.

later, he’s out on the tarmac with gary, fussing over the front wing, when three figures dressed in teal come out to the pitlane from the aston garage. for once in his life, mick wishes it was lance. but it’s seb, whose eyes settle on him for a few seconds, his face tense and carefully blank. 

before mick can raise a hand in a wave, seb turns to mikey. mick gulps at the clear dismissal, clears his throat before looking back over at gary. 

“alright?” gary asks mildly. he’s too kind to say anything but there’s no way he didn’t pick up on it. 

“sure,” mick nods. he almost says something dumb, like peachy, but he feels too taut to try to joke. 

the wind picks up, bringing closer the tenors of seb’s laughter, easy with everyone else today, apparently. mick sighs, takes a deep breath to center himself, except– except he swears he can pick up on the now familiar bright notes of seb’s scent. it wasn’t even half a day that they spent together, seb’s heat breaking a few hours after midnight, but mick doesn’t think he could forget it even if he tried. he bites his lip, looks over at seb. but he’s still turned away, gesturing with his whole body, so it might be just mick’s rut that’s playing a trick on his mind. seb isn’t in heat, he couldn’t be, so there’s no reason for mick to smell him like this. it hasn’t even been a fortnight just yet. 

except he smells seb again when he goes to do media duties. the intensity of it makes his mouth water pathetically; he has to gulp a few times to collect himself, to stop thinking about the way seb tasted, all pink and glistening, offering himself to mick, languid in his want. he can just barely see seb where he’s talking to carlos, the lines of his shoulders tenser than usual. mick lets laura lead him to the media pen, gets into the mindset of the driver they want to see. these interviews are just becoming more and more excruciating as the season progresses, the ultimatums of steiner looming over him. 

the fifteen minutes feel like a lifetime. seb is inside the building now, but it feels like he’s pressed close to mick, the soft fuzz on his forearms brushing against mick’s, the ghost of the hot puffs of his breath raising the hair on mick’s nape. it’s torture to feel seb’s desire so physically, that he’s hungering for it, to know him wanton and desperate. 

seb hasn’t offered to help him with his rut. mick didn’t ask him, of course: he doesn’t want to make seb feel like what they have is only sex or a convenience. it’s only a few weeks now until seb makes his final lap as a racing driver, something mick still dreads; but he thinks that the next chapter that seb’s been talking about will have space for him, too – something soft and promising that he felt when they woke up the morning after seb’s heat. seb’s sweet smile, the shade of his lashes, the gentle trail of his fingers on mick’s arm. 

he’ll tell sabine to cancel the service when he gets back to his driver’s room. he doesn’t think he could touch someone else without recoiling.

[heart-of-the-party]

i wrote some angsty azune/estinien stuff! it’s mostly word vomit but yeah, i was wondering how to touch upon this when i played EnW and had an idea today.

for some context:

azune’s parents are- viera father, au ra mother (Frir and Asa Viraum)

they were renowned alchemists from thavnair and spent most of their time in The Great Work, they were both killed in an explosion at a research facility (very cliche, yeah). they had a child out of societal expectations and as such did not deeply care for azune.she grew up quite independent and alone and does not have a strong attachment to her parents.

"Viraum? Are you perchance related to Frir and Asa Viraum?", Nidhana asked, her gleaming eyes indicating that she already knew the answer.

"Did the ears give it away?", Azune asked, a polite and practiced smile on her face. Beside her, the 3 scions stiffened slightly. Urianger made a move as if to speak but Nidhana began to gush almost instantly.

"I knew it! You look just like your father. I was but a young girl when your parents used to work here, I have met them a couple of times many years ago and your mother's encouraging words really inspired my journey into alchemy. Almost everyone here remember your parents fondly and keenly feel their loss, I cannot imagine-"

"Ooh, good for them, for I feel nothing for the kind of people who decided their work is more important than the child back home.", saying so, Azune whipped around and strode out of the room. Estinien immediately followed her out. Nidhana blinked, clearly surprised and at a loss for words.

Urianger and Thancred exchanged looks, for now it's best they leave Azune to Estinien. Not a lot of people knew about Azune's relationship with her long-gone parents and evidently Thavnair has been a constant reminder for her. Nidhana's well-meaning but callous words were the last straw.

"Sorry about that, perhaps we should refrain from mentioning the Viraums at all. Azune shares little else with them other than the same last name, so let's not probe further than that, yeah?" Thancred's voice was light but his words had a tone of finality to them. Nidhana only nodded, apparently unabashed.

"I'll make sure no one says anything about them to the Warrior of Light. Everyone has their circumstances. It was my mistake to have made assumptions about their relationship." She suddenly stood up and clapped her hands loudly.

"Now then, let's get to work!"

Thancred and Urianger smiled and nodded, eager to get started and leave the awkward situation behind.

---

Azune walked a few paces ahead of Estinien. She knew he was behind her but she couldn't bring herself to stop and face him. She was afraid that she might end up lashing out at him. Right now all she felt was waves of anger in different tones- frustration, bitterness, sadness.

When they arrived at the cliffs of the Perfumed Rise, away from the bustle of The Great Work, Azune stopped. She heard Estinien stop too, he was close to her but far enough to give her space.

"I am sorry." she blurted out. In truth she was, she was the Warrior of Light, she shouldn't have been so overwhelmed by Nidhana's words. And she knew they were going to a place where her parents worked. Being viera as well as carrying the name of some of the most well-known alchemists in The Work was bound to lead to someone talking to her about them. She knew this and yet-

"Dont." he said, his voice soft but firm.

Tears welled up in Azune's eyes. Estinien is always so kind.

Realising that there's no way to stop her overflowing emotions, she broke down finally.

"I hate this! I hate what I am feeling right now. I thought I was over them but apparently not. I am so weak." she said, her voice quavering, making her even more frustrated. She barely shed any tears for her parents during their funeral, why was she being so affected now?

Estinien said nothing but moved close to her and tugged her hand, inviting her closer if she wanted it. She laid her head against his shoulder, tears soaking his shirt. Estinien held her close as she continued her rant.

"Why were they so nice and kind to everyone else but me? Everyone we meet remembers them fondly and I? I don't even have any worthwhile memories of them. I was alone the whole time. My mother said encouraging words to Nidhana, huh? Why couldn't she do the same to me when my first few spells failed? Oh right, because she wasn't home."

Azune's voice grew stronger and angrier as she went on. Estinien tightened his hold. He was angry too, on behalf of his lover. Coming from a caring and loving family, he was baffled that someone could leave their child alone like that. Azune deserved better. No amount of alchemical innovations her parents worked on was worth the loneliness of her childhood.

"Why have me if they didn't want to be actual parents? I don't know- I don't think- I.." she voice broke again and she cried harder, her arms clinging desperately around Estinien. His anger had already turned into concern as he ran his hand through her hair, hoping to soothe her heart in any way he could. He was never good with words, preferring to show his feelings through actions. And right now, all he could do was hold her till she calmed down. Just as he did before, after the events at The Vault.

Azune eventually calmed down enough and Estinien released her, his arms still hovering close to let her know he wasn't letting go if she needed more time. She stepped back a little and looked away sheepishly. "Thank you.." she said, her voice small and hoarse. "Sorry again. She was trying hard to avoid his eyes.

Estinien sighed. Both Azune and Alphinaud were annoyingly polite even to their closest friends. But it was also an endearing part of them and Estinien had begrudgingly learned to not argue back when they apologised or thanked him for the smallest of things.  

Before he could say anything, his linkpearl beeped. Thancred's voice came in, unhurried and casual. Apparently they had mostly wrapped up the discussions with the alchemists and suggested Estinien take Azune out for the evening before returning to The Great Work for dinner and finalizing the plans for the next day.

"Azune." he called. She finally looked at him, a small smile on her face. Estinien felt his heart squeeze at that. He smiled back, as he took her in his arms again. A thought nagged at him. Haltingly he tried to give it form.

"Perhaps- perhaps your parents had you for the sole reason that we'd meet and share our lives together. I am sorry your journey to get here was... hmm, shitty. Forgive me, I am not good with words and... mmf"

Azune's lips were on his, insistent and hungry. Her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him down deeper into the kiss. Though surprised at first, Estinien kissed her back with the same intensity. When they parted, Azune nuzzled his nose.    

"You know what, you're right. I am glad I met you, Estinien. You and everyone else. My real family."

What seemed like a lifetime ago, Estinien was ready to give up his life for Ishgard. It was his duty as the Azure Dragoon. Now, looking at the viera in his arms, Estinien was glad to be alive if only to be Azune's lance.

Both of them were broken when they found each other and together they had learnt to pick themselves up and live on for a better tomorrow. And now as they walked the coast of Thanvair, hand-in-hand, Estinien vowed to always be what Azune needed him to be.  

---

Walking towards the wizened dragon who was left with no will to live, Estinien remembered that evening in Thavnair. The feel of Azune against him and his renewed resolve. That was his last thought and his last wish. For her to see this through. Even if he were gone, she had to make it. She needed him to be a guide right now. And that's what he'd be. Putting his faith and love into the right words was a monumental task in itself but he did his best.

"Go, my friend." He smiled at her one last time before being engulfed by the cold darkness.

[casspurrjoybell-24]

The Alpha's Beta - Chapter 12 - Part 1

BOOK ONE: The Alpha's Trilogy

*Warning Adult Content*

What, Gay? - Part 1

Beta Darren Phoenix

I kept seeing the note over and over again in my head, as if it were laughing me, mocking all my hard work.

For weeks, no years, I've been trying to figure out who killed my mother.

Days after sleepless nights I've spent up researching, digging into everything I can find, only to come up with dead ends.

All Silas did was leave his 'boyfriend's' house and get knocked on the head and he wakes up with a fucking clue who attacked him.

Not that he knew it though.

The confusion on his face told me that much.

I knew no one in that room believed me, the look of pity was disgusting but I knew it.

First it was my mother, then it was his mother and sister and now it was us but they wouldn't get us, I wouldn't let them.

A knocking at my office door disturbed my train of thought.

I mumble a 'come in' as I shuffle papers on my desk.

Simon's scent hits me before he steps into the room.

I look up to see his timid frame standing in the door way, he looks at his hands as stands there.

I think out of everybody in this pack, Simon is the only one I pity.

Jeremy had pre-warned me about what had happened to him.

"Hurry up, I'm busy," I say as I look back down at some papers.

Something to do with pack finances.

"Um... I'm sorry. It's just that. You seemed upset and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean you know. I know what its like. To and extent."

I scoffed before signing the paper in front of me and shoving it away.

"Yeah okay. Expect my father sent me away when my mother died and yours beat you. It's not the same thing Simon."

I see him flinch out of the corner of my eye but I'm shocked when he squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath.

"That's not what I meant," he says, his voice suddenly stronger then before.

"What I meant was I know what it's like having your mother die and then finding out they were killed. I mean I found out almost right away but it took you what? 24 years before you found out?"

"I knew before today she was murdered. Here," I say holding up a folder.

"If you're going to stay here and chat you might as well come in and help me with this." I mutter, hating the fact I'm even letting him walk into my office but there was something about Simon that no one else in this pack had.

He was easy to talk to.

He'd been through more then half of the people here,and yet he still walked around with his head high.

Or at least kind of high.

He sits down in the chair against to mine before setting the folder on the table and opening it and skimming through it.

"So," he starts after a few minutes of pen scraping silence.

"Are you and Silas getting along yet?" I scoff again and let out a humorless chuckle.

"No, we are not getting along. Frankly I can't stand the sight of him."

He nods along reading the file in his hand.

After half an hour of silence and pen tapping Simon let out a sigh before looking up at me.

"Look I've gotta ask..."

"No you don't, you just want to be nosey."

"Okay. Yes but he is my brother, so it's my obligation to ask."

"What are you asking exactly?"

"You and Silas. Are you... you know," he gestured with his hands but what he did was no sense.

He waved his hands in front of him, like he was asking me to go.

I raised my eyebrow at him and tilted my head to the side

"What, gay?"

"No. Well yeah but I mean. You know what? Never mind, I'm probably just crazy."

"Well I could have told you that."

I rolled my eyes, prompting him to do the same back to me.

We sat in silence for another few moments until Symon let out a sigh.

"You're mates aren't you?"

My head snapped up at his words.

How the fuck did he figure that out.

I didn't tell anyone and Silas only figured it out today by his reaction at my front door...the slow bastard.

Another reason I wont mate with him.

He's to stupid... as if seeing the question in my eyes Symon lowered his.

"The way he kept looking at you today. Plus a couple of days ago when he went to the city. Or we thought he did. You seemed worried, you were pacing and muttering to yourself. I kind of put it together. I mean I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure I'm not."

He went on fiddling with the zipper on his sweater.

"It's really none of your business," I spat making him flinch back.

"What goes on in our lives is nothing to you. I'm nothing to you. Just like Silas is and will always be nothing to me. Do you understand?"

He nodded his head franticly before jumping up and leaving the room.

I felt that odd sensation in the pit of my stomach again, feelings trying to push there way up into my head.

I swallowed them down before continuing my work.

Trying my best to get the scared look on Simon's face out of my mind.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Taste of Heaven Part 1

Series Masterlist

Prologue

Contains: Fluff, cooking, sort of slow burn.

2,178 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged

After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.

"Good luck."

Hvitserk was moving in the next day. Someone from work had provided products to wash his clothes and bedding and a spray to clean his items so the mould didn't spread and he was using the restaurant's lawyer in hopes of being compensated for the lost rent due to the black mould.

In the rush to get all this possession out of the house, you didn't talk to him much. You were hunched over the kitchen sink, stuffing in breakfast before you had to run to work. Hvitserk came screaming down the stairs, "sorry I can't stay for breakfast, we have a huge shipment of spice coming in and I need to be there." You tossed him a banana, "see you tonight. I'm looking forward to whatever you're going to cook."

You and Hvitserk had come up with a cooking schedule, you did a fifty-fifty slipt and did meal prep together on the weekend with fresh food from the farmers market.

It was strange cooking with him, you would have thought he would run his kitchen like one of those mean TV chefs but he was always smiling and laughing. You soon began to realise why his staff loved him so much and why his restaurant was so successful, everyone loved working with him and he made people genuinely happy.

"I hope you like stink." Hvitserk smiled, "are you kidding me, stinky tofu is the bomb."

"Mary, can you please bring me those fish?" Mary was a kind older woman, having spent thirty years in an unfulfilling marriage, she left her husband to pursue her cooking career. She came to one of the ten-dollar classes you taught once a month and signed up for a history degree the next day.

"Are we making Garum?" You nodded excitedly, "fuck yeah we are, Roman fish sauce that was loved by plebeians and the upper class. What's not to love?"

You added all the ingredients to an earthen jar, sealing it with a date well into the future, "I wish we didn't have to wait so long for food to do done. Why is there so much waiting?" You smiled, "because people back then had nothing better do to than what things rot."

After that, it was onto recipe research. You pulled a thick paper-bound book out of its case, cotton gloves over your hands and placed the book on a velvet rest. Opening it to the page indicated in your notes, you looked over the recipe.

One fraction of sugar

One fraction of flour

One fraction of butter

One-quarter fraction of milk

It was a pound cake recipe, but what was interesting was the way the recipe was written which made no sense. After looking over the publishing information and comparing the recipe to others by the same author and publishing house.

The conclusion, it was all a scam. The idea was to give people to right amounts but to make sure they fail when making it so they buy fancy equipment. You added it to the list of exhibits that would be shown next month.

"Scam foods through the ages."

At lunchtime, Hvitserk turned up, arms full of food, "hello, what brings you here today?" He smiled, boyish and warm, "well I know I'm never going to get you to come to the restaurant so I brought it to you, and your friends." He looked around and placed the food on the huge steal table in the middle of the department, the amazing smell bringing people over like a spell.

"This is very sweet of you Hvitty, I'll have a receipt and payment for you by the time you leave." He waved his hands, almost offended, "no way in Hel, this is my treat." Mary looked at both of you strangely, smiling to herself.

"Well then, are you going to tell me what I'm about to eat before I put it in my mouth?" He walked over to the table like a boy who just gave a flower to the girl he has a crush on.

"This is salted chicken, it's Ivar's favourite. This is honey bread which is Bjorn's favourite, this is Panzanella salad its Sigurd's favourite, and Ubbe's, which is crispy skin pork." It all looked and smelled amazing but there was one container left, "what's this one?"

He smiled again, it encompassed his face, "your favourite cake." He shrugged when you smiled at him, "we needed dessert."

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

The food was amazing, it was filling and comforting without being too much. Hvitserk watched everyone eat, the smile on his face growing as the silence of satisfaction did. "I thought you had shipping issues to deal with, how did you get away from work? Not that I'm complaining."

"I'm the owner and head chef, I only hire people who can look after the place if I need to leave at a moments notice." He didn't say it but you knew he was talking about Ivar. As much as he was independent and could look after himself, sometimes he was in so much pain he couldn't move enough to look after himself.

"Lucky you, I run this department and if I left for half a day, the government would cut out funding." Hvitserk shook his head, "I was thinking that maybe I could help with that. Ubbe was telling me you needed more funding to restore some cookbooks and I'd like to put on a fundraiser at the restaurant.

You were so taken aback, you hadn't spent much time with the man and he was already offering to help. Your smile must have been an answer because he was already pulling out a notebook from his pocket.

"You really don't have to do that. We haven't known each other that long, I don't want to impose and please don't feel obligated because I let you stay over." Hvitserk shook his head, "I think you forget what a great friend you've been to my brother. I want to do this, if you say no I'm just going to go over your head."

You rolled your eyes, "fine but only if you let me give you a private tour after lunch." The smile on his face was your answer.

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

"This is our deadly food exhibit, not only does it have the led plates that caused people to believe that tomatoes were toxic but also the jars lined with lead that ancient societies used to sweeten wine." Hvitserk looked fascinated, "we focus here one food before modernity so unless it's in a scroll, you won't see much about delicacies like Fugu."

He pointed to a panel of photos and dishes in a display case, "what's that?" He saw the excitement on your face, "this is our poison supper club exhibit. They ate toxins that were common in food at the time and recorded their results, these people created the modern FDA."

Hvitserk watched you like you were the most interesting thing on the planet. "This is so cool, is there any way for you to set up some kind of food history thing in the restaurant? I'm sure there would be guests who would love an immersive experience. We could even invite school kids to join."

You were so happy you almost clapped, "I would love to do that, maybe we could do something involving the history of New York?" Hvitserk's hands grabbed your forearms, "you are a genius woman."

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

It had been a week since Hvitserk had started staying with you. You no longer found it hard to talk to him, in fact, the conversation flowed so naturally that it felt like he had been living with you for years.

The last few days, you had both been busy setting up the menus for the fundraiser and the new experiences at the restaurant, you were having trouble deciding between two dishes for both menus, one was Hvitserk's and one was yours.

Which led you here, with his brothers sitting at your dining room table waiting to bring out both dishes for them to judge. You had cooked a soup on the Waldorf Astoria menu in 1935 and he had cooked the most popular street food from 1922. The competition was friendly and you helped each other with the prep and cooking.

As you tossed the onions in the pan, Hvitserk was looking at your face. He saw the furrow in your brow and the way you leaned in the smell the food every few minutes. For the briefest moment, his chest felt warm and his finger inched to touch you. It passed when you moved to the other side of the kitchen and he did his best to force it out of his brain.

"You ready?" He nodded and helped you with the trays. You walked into the dining room and set the food down, each plate having a little printed card to explain what it was.

"The dish you all decide on will be the one that's put on the menu so make sure it's the best." They looked over the food like hungry animals and you and Hvitserk left them to judge.

"They're going to choose my thing, you know." You shook your head, "no, mine's much more filling. Yours is a snack at best." He laughed a looped his arm around you, the contact making you feel a flutter in your belly.

"Ok then, if you're so sure you're going to win, what do you want for it?" You really thought it over, wondering if you should tell him what you really want, "I want you to move in with me permanently, the house is huge and even if you cover half of everything, it will still be cheaper than rent in your shitty apartment. If you don't want to do that, you have to admit in front of everyone that I'm the better cook."

Hvitserk acted like it was a hard decision but you could see that he had already made up his mind, "fine, if you win I'll move in. But if I win, I move in and you come to the restaurant and let me cook you a three-course meal and you're not paying." You shook your head but stuck your hand out in agreement, the firmness of your shake surprising Hvitserk.

"Done."

Twenty minutes later, you were called back into the dining room, "so, what's the verdict?" Ubbe smiled, "a dead tie." You blinked in shock, "but the voting system wouldn't allow that." They laughed, "tough shit, we couldn't decide."

Hvitserk slapped you on the back, "well roomy, I guess I'll see you at the restaurant on Sunday."

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

Sunday came along and you made sure to wear your best casual but nice dress, Hvitserk had told you time and time again that it wasn't like most high-class restaurants and most of the time it hosted families and people on a nice night out.

When you walked in the restaurant was empty, save for a single candlelit table in the middle of the room. "What did you do?" He smirked, "you lost a bet, this is me collecting." He put a hand softly on your lower back and led you to the table, pulling the chair out for you to sit down, "what a gentleman."

He smiled, "my mum raised me well." To your surprise, he pulled up the chair opposite and sat down next to you, "are you going to leave the cooking to your sous chef?" He nodded, "she's a very capable woman, and she wants to practice for the new menu." He was happy you let it go, you had been very vocal about your dislike of the restaurant industry.

The food came out slowly, each course just the right size so you could enjoy the meal without feeling too full. Hvitserk watched you like a hawk, asking questions about what you thought of the food, "this could use some lemon juice, I think it would make it a lot less heavy." He tasted the dish off his own plate and nodded, getting one of the waiters to bring over a lemon wedge before Hvitserk squirted it on the food. He took and nite and moaned, "are you sure you want to be a scientist? You'd make an amazing chef."

You shook your head, "I hate people, someone would leave their food and I punch them." Hvitserk knew by the way you said it there was more to your feelings but he didn't want to push.

The night wore on and by the time you were done eating and talking, you were falling asleep at the table. Hvitserk put a hand on yours, smiling softly, "let's head home. Did you have a good night?" You nodded vigorously, "the best."

He pulled out your chair and linked his arm in yours, locking by before walking you to your car. The night was cool and the stars were twinkling in the sky.

"See you at home?" It took a while for the words to settle in.

Home

"Yeah, see you at home."

Part 2

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