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up-in-space-reading · 11 months

Text

The End of the World and Everything After

pairing: Matt x F Reader

word count: 6,345

warnings/tags: angst, grief, hurt, fluff, comfort, established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, swearing, domestic fluff, dad!Matt, the blip/the snap, mentions of alcohol, allusions to sex (nothing graphic). no use of y/n.

read on ao3

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Story Summary: Half of the universe is turned into dust because of Thanos. You and Matt were left behind to pick up the pieces of yourselves and try to learn how to live without the most important people in your lives.

a/n: This fic was born from me babysitting, listening to 90s top hits for two weeks straight, and way too many conversations with my partner about what our fave characters did during the blip. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy <3

The whole world stopped that day. The entire universe stood still. It was unbelievably quiet everywhere, a silence settling down on the surface that wouldn’t lift anytime soon.

On an average Tuesday afternoon, half of the earth disappeared in minutes. Leaving behind the other half to cope with the losses and clean up the mess left behind.

No one was sure what the Avengers did or didn’t do, all everyone knew was that five minutes after someone had snapped their fingers half of their loved ones were no longer around.

Not dead, just dust.

Matt had taken losing Karen and Foggy hard. He spent months taking out his anger on anything he could hit and kick. Bruised and bloody fists a harsh reminder that he is alive, and they aren’t. The streets and the punching bag in the gym got hit with his rage, and you got hit with his sadness. There was no denying you felt it too, you were just as much of a mess you just didn’t have the physical outlet he did.

He started training you in the old dusty ring at Fogwells a few months after, hitting the bag and sparring until neither of you could handle it anymore and the tears began falling again, collapsing into each other’s arms for a while. You’d then walk home, arm in arm on the quiet streets of the Kitchen, Matt would listen to the people left and you’d stare at the empty buildings.

It was a similar routine for a year but getting easier to handle with every passing week. A smile here and there when you would land a punch, a giggle when he’d grab you around the waist in just the right spot to tickle you.

Slowly, you were getting yourselves back. Not your old selves, but a new version, versions that lived with the pain and held onto the small glimpses of hope. Versions of yourselves that settled into a calm and quiet routine. You got to a place where you could talk about them with a bittersweet tone instead of not being able to speak through the tears. And in the strangest turn of events, connections were made.

It was Jessica who had reached out first. You had been so surprised you read the text on Matt’s phone yourself multiple times. Her and Luke had figured things out, they even had a kid a few months before the blip. But they were getting lonely, and once Luke has realised who was left he figured you and Matt were getting lonely too.

Halfway through that first year you quit your job, began working with Matt in the office doing the admin and office managerial tasks. He didn’t have many clients, but people were still having issues during this time. At some point everyone decided the world had to keep turning, people needed money to stay in their homes or downsize and businesses still needed to run. The city kept going, it just felt smaller and emptier now.

You packed away Karen and Foggy’s things, in storage boxes. Matt asked why you didn’t get rid of them completely and you didn’t have an answer, maybe a small part of you hoped they’d come back one day. Maybe you just didn’t have the heart to get rid of it all yet. The door to Foggy’s office staying almost permanently shut, windows dark.

So, you sat at the desk in the main foyer of the office, answering emails and doing any research Matt needed done. Matt went over files and case notes in his office, listening to you hum along to the music playing quietly through a speaker in the corner of the room. It was a little over a year since it had happened.

It was a warm day, sunlight pouring through the dirty office windows making the space look happier than it ought to be. You were busy typing an email response to organise an appointment with a client when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in” You said loud enough so the person could hear, not looking up from your computer screen.

Luke opened the door with one hand, holding Dani and a bag of food in the other. Dani had her arms wrapped around as much of Luke’s neck as she could reach and was babbling in her fathers ear while he hummed in response.

“Hi Luke, hi Dani” You smiled wide at the two of them.

You were always happy to see Dani, convinced she was one of the cutest kids you’d ever seen. Looks like her fathers and a temper like her mothers (only if you didn’t give in to her ice cream demands).

“Hey, how you guys doing? We bought you both some lunch if you haven’t already had some” He took the bag of food in his free hand and held it up for emphasis.

“No, we haven’t eaten yet, thank you so much.” You stomach grumbling as you stood up and accepted the bag happily, peering at the contents inside “Can’t believe the mayor of New York is doing a lunch run while also looking after his little one”

At the mention of Dani you look at her and scrunch up your nose and smile, she smiled in return before quickly hiding her face in Luke’s shoulder. Luke laughed.

“If I’m behind that desk for too long I’ll lose my mind, besides, needed to ask Matt a few things and figured it was a good excuse to get out”

You laughed in response, it was a new feeling, laughing at things regularly and feeling a semblance of normal. It was something none of you had been used to in a long while, but it did feel good, you almost felt relieved that the worst was over even though the worst was technically still ongoing.

“If there’s enough here for all of us I’ll get a table and some chairs set up so we can eat together, you go chat with Matt, Dani and I will hang out for a bit”

Luke passed Dani over to you before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and going into Matt’s office. You went about dragging out the fold out table and chairs from the unused conference room, Dani in one arm and dragging furniture with the other. Eventually you put her down on the floor next to the small basket of toys you’d acquired for her so you could finish setting up the table and chairs and place the food out on the table.

Once done, you knocked on the door of Matt’s office and poked your head in telling the two boys that food was ready. The four of you sat down around the small square table, Dani on Luke’s lap trying her absolute hardest to stab things with a chopstick.

You small talk about your days and what everyone has been up to recently, its mostly the same as usual and at some point Matt and Luke continue talking shop so you start entertaining Dani with funny faces and peek-a-boo.

It was a nice day, you finished work an hour before Matt and were able to cook something nice for dinner by the time he got home.

Later that night you and Matt were sat on the couch, both reading a book quietly. He had decided to not go on patrol that night, it had made you wonder at first, but you weren’t going to complain at the chance for quality time. The two of you were sat on the couch, you were leaning against the arm rest with your legs stretched out on Matt’s lap, his feet were resting on the coffee table and you’d both been wearing your pyjamas since arriving home after work. A record playing on the turntable in the corner of the room, Matt had picked tonight.

At a point in the evening when the sun was down and the moon making its home in the sky for the night Matt put his book down on the side table, running his hands up and down your shins. After a few minutes and once you’d finished your page you closed your book and put it down, looking up at him to see he was already facing you, a lazy smile on his face.

“What’s up, handsome?” You teased reaching one of your hands down, meeting one of his at your knee.

“Nothing much, beautiful” He teased back.

You sit in silence for a few moments, taking in all his features and how they seem to have aged so much just in the past year and you assumed you looked the same. But he was still beautiful, pensive and unfocused brown eyes staring while his other senses take in everything. The stubble lingering on his jaw that you had always preferred over him being clean shaven.

“You’re staring” He pulled you out of your thoughts.

“If you could see your reflection then you’d understand why” You giggled.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked tentatively.

“Of course”

You leaned your head sideways to rest on the back of the couch, still looking at him as he seemed hesitant with his question. Had this been six months ago your mind would have run wild with possibilities, anxiety having already decided the worst outcome was definitely going to happen. But this time, your instincts weren’t screaming and your mind was clear, it should’ve scared you but instead your heart stayed steady. The worst had already happened, anything since couldn’t compare.

“I love you, so much. The past year has been…” He looks away, blinking hard a few times before turning to face you again “probably one of the worst ever, we were- are dealing with something so unprecedented. But we’ve made it this far and it has me convinced we’ll make it through anything” You both let out a short laugh.

“I feel like I’m getting off track, sorry” He laughed nervously this time, at this point you could see he was fiddling with something in his pocket with his free hand.

“That’s okay, keep going” You smiled and squeezed his hand, trying to calm your heartbeat as your mind jumped to conclusions hoping against everything they were the right ones.

“Anyway, if it weren’t for you I don’t know what I would’ve done or where I would be now. You’re the most amazing, kind, funny and caring person I’ve ever met.” Tears were welling up in his eyes, matching the ones that had been brimming in yours threatening to spill “I-I can’t live without you, so would you marry me?”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding a silver ring. It was beautiful, two small bands winding around one other creating an infinite spiral, decorated with small diamonds embedded in the bands. It was the perfect ring for you, he knew you weren’t a fan of big jewellery and a big diamond wouldn’t match your style.

“Oh my god Matt… yes I will, of course I will” The tears had now begun to fall now and there was no way you were going to be able to stop them.

He held your shaking left hand steady as he slid the ring on your finger, and you looked at it for a few moments before sliding closer to Matt to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. He returned the favour, hands going to your waist to hold you close and steady. When you pulled back for air you could see he was also crying.

After a few moments of catching your breath, you spoke up again.

“What about K-“

“I know, I thought about it. They would hate that we stopped living just because they’re gone, and if we get to see them again one day I want to be able to tell them the things we’ve done together”

“Okay, if you’re sure” You put your forehead against his.

“Sure as I’ve been about anything”

The two of you chose a date a few weeks later to go to the courthouse and make it official, with Luke, Jess, and Dani in tow. You and Jess went out to get a dress, she insisted she was only there to tell you which ones were ugly so you’d know what to avoid. The dress you chose was simple, not a wedding dress by definition but it was white and it suited you. Jess had even said you looked nice in it, which coming from her she may as well have called you Aphrodite.

You filled out and signed papers, quickly kissed, and by that evening the five of you were sitting in yours and Matt’s apartment a few drinks in laughing over nothing. Music from the turntable and Dani’s babbling as she played on the floor creating background noise, and for the first time in a long time the city doesn’t feel too big or too quiet.

It was a perfect night to end a perfect day.

Throwing up into the toilet isn’t how you had anticipated you’d start your Saturday morning, Matt still in pyjama pants and no shirt holding your hair back as your body convulsed. He rubbed your back soothingly until you’d finished, and once you were sure you were done, he held you on the bathroom floor as you caught your breath.

A year and a half since half the universe disappeared, a few months since you and Matt had gotten married.

“Oh god” You gasped, looking at the results of the test later that day.

“Well..” Matt trailed off.

You were both processing the results in silence for a little while, you weren’t sure if it were seconds or hours that passed.

“Quarters” Matt whispered.

At first it confused you until you racked your brain, did some rough maths and suddenly it made sense.

“Quarters” You whispered back in shock.

“This should be incredibly unfair to you but I actually think it’s the opposite and incredibly unfair to me” You giggled while pouring a shot of whiskey into the cup in the middle of the table.

“Mrs Murdock attacks her husband once again, will the torment ever end” Matt pretended to fret to someone else who wasn’t in the room before laughing.

“Mr Murdock is going the right way to sleeping on the couch if he continues to pretend he will be bad at this game”

Matt walked to the dining table, carrying freshly washed quarters in a towel, drying them as he walked. He had insisted on washing the coins before playing, they smelled so strong he could taste them and it made him feel ill.

“I’m going to cheat” You said matter of factly.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t marry you because you’re a fair player” You both laughed hard.

You had begun playing games every so often, going out drinking less meant you and Matt had time to fill and you were determined to not have him fill the time with Daredevil. An argument six months after the blip which left you both emotionally raw had already gone over that issue. He was doing worlds better now, not relying on Daredevil as much to cope and you were proud.

When Matt was satisfied that the coins were as clean as he could get them and dry enough, the game commenced. You immediately regretted it, wishing you had chosen a card game instead. He was landing every single one, you were lucky to get one in four. After a little while you stood up to get some water and wobbled on your feet, deciding that you had to stack the odds in your favour somehow so you wouldn’t get blackout while Matt stayed lightly buzzed.

“Need help getting to the fridge?” He teased, leaning back in his chair.

“I am perfectly fine walking a few steps to the fridge” You insisted, but you were definitely trying harder than usual to take balanced and even steps.

Once you had acquired a bottle of water, you returned to the table and picked up a coin for your next shot. Unsurprisingly you miss the glass, but before Matt can pick up a coin of his own you take one off the table as quick as possible and take another shot. This one makes it into the glass and you throw your arms up in victory while Matt throws his head back laughing.

“Drink up Matthew!” You cheered.

From that point on Matt let you keep trying until you got the coin in the glass before taking his turn. At some point in the evening when your cheeks were hurting from laughter and your mouth was sticky with the taste of alcohol you called it a night, advising Matt that you two had shared enough of the bottle for a single evening.

You stumbled through the living room and into the bedroom together, feeling grateful that you from a few hours ago decided to put her pyjamas on before starting the game. You were warm and happy all over, but it wasn’t until Matt took his shirt off that your heart began to race and heat spread through your body.

“Hmm”

The noise had accidentally slipped from your lips, you hadn’t meant for it to come out but it was too late, Matt had already heard it and was taking in the rest of your body’s reaction.

“Oh” He responded quietly while smirking.

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” You asked nervously from the other end of the couch.

“Sure as I’ve been about anything, only if you’re sure too” He placed a hand on your knee.

“Yeah, I’m sure”

You let out a deep breath, taking it all in and already thinking ahead. A feeling settled in your chest, a mix of excitement and anxiety. You both had a daunting future ahead of you but you were sure it would be worth it, and there was no one you’d rather do it with than Matt.

Luke was elated for the both of you, and Jess pretended to not be as happy also but had a hard time hiding it, a rare smile gracing her face for just a moment when you had told them the news. You often texted Jess with a million different questions and whilst reluctant to answer she still helped more than you’d ever be able to thank her for. When you found out the gender Luke brought over a few bags of Dani’s old stuff that she had grown out of and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Your daughter is fuckin’ huge, can you help me with my shoes please” You yelled across the apartment to Matt.

“As soon as she’s an issue it’s my daughter, huh?” He teased as he walked over to where you were on the couch, his tie still undone.

Matt knelt on the floor in front of you and helped with putting your socks and shoes on, you hadn’t been able to reach your feet for a while now so he was used to it and he never minded helping in any way he could. You were the one doing the hard work after all, who was he to complain about having to help with a pair of shoes every now and then.

Once he was done with your shoes he placed a kiss onto your belly and then your forehead. He finished doing up his tie and you both headed out to work for the day. It was a brisk morning as you walked to the office, arm in arm as per usual. You had to stop once to catch your breath and Matt sat with you on the bench, hand on your knee in comfortable silence.

After you had gotten to the office and up until lunch you had felt minor pains but nothing to be concerned about. It wasn’t until about 2pm that they got worse and you grew worried, but you still hadn’t caught Matt’s attention until a bad one hit you suddenly causing you to hiss through your teeth and clench your fists.

He got up from his desk and rushed to the doorway of his office.

“Are you okay?” He asked concerned.

“Uh-“ You thought about it for a few moments “Not really”

You knew Matt would be annoyed if you downplayed how you felt, he had been all over since you found out you were pregnant making sure you weren’t having any pains that were out of place and making you be almost too careful. Fortunately, you’d read about these pains, and you now had the task of quickly mentally preparing yourself for the coming hours.

“I’ll call Luke” Matt was ready for action immediately, pulling out his phone and finding Luke’s contact immediately.

Taxis were harder to come by after the blip and it was a jarring change for New York. The only person you and Matt knew who did drive was Luke, so he was always the go to if you needed a ride for a bit of a distance; and he had offered to call him anytime for the baby. Luke was outside the office not 10 minutes later ready to take the two of you to the hospital.

Matt would do anything for her, he had decided that the moment he got to hold her for the first time. She was his everything, two people in the world he would do anything for.

While you were sleeping that night, exhausted after all the effort that afternoon, he held her in his arms. Sat on the uncomfortable hospital couch he felt her warmth against his chest and listened to her tiny heartbeat. She was perfect, and he cried as he stroked her soft cheek with his finger.

His girls were everything to him. Two years ago his world collapsed and he thought he could never be happy again, he’d never be lucky enough to laugh or smile. But despite the many difficulties the day offered, he was content.

If he ever got to see Foggy and Karen again, he couldn’t wait to tell them everything.

You told him she was still mostly bald but there were whisps of dark hair covering her head, you joked she wasn’t done cooking enough to tell who she looked more like yet. Luke drove the three of you home two days later, not lingering too long so you could get settled.

Sleepless nights were tough on both of you, Matt didn’t get enough sleep as it was and now with a crying baby it was worse. But eventually you figured out a routine, and after two months of stumbling and sleepless nights the two of you found a way.

Saturday afternoon and you were finally getting around to doing the laundry you’d been putting off for two weeks, Mia propped up by some pillows at the head of your bed and unfolded clothes covering the foot of the bed. She was holding a toy in her hand that she would occasionally decide to chew on or wave around while music played in the background.

“Your father hates when I sing this one, rolls his eyes and everything, can you believe him?” You told Mia as you swayed your hips to the music while folding t-shirts.

She made a quiet cooing noise and you couldn’t help but smile. A few minutes passes of you humming and Mia watching you, content in between feeds and naps.

“Oh my god yes! Mia baby this is important stuff I expect you to remember this one” You said as the next song begun, one of your personal favourites.

The swaying hips very soon escalated into dancing around the bedroom as you folded clothes, Mia smiling at your antics only encouraging you further. You were getting lost in the music, and though you didn’t know it Matt was smiling from where he was washing dishes in the kitchen, attention focused completely on you in the other room.

Near the end of the song Mia waved her arms around a little, and you didn’t care if she was copying you or just doing her thing but it made you laugh anyway.

“That’s it baby, get into it!”

It wasn’t often you had the opportunity to sneak up on Matt, ears hearing you approaching from more than a block away, always making sure you’re safe. But every now and then you had a rare opportunity to, and it was always a gem to catch Matt off guard.

Today you had gone grocery shopping while Matt stayed home with Mia. You had returned from shopping, hearing Matt’s voice on the other side of the apartment door made you stop for a moment. You stood by the door, ear close to the gap trying to listen to what he was saying.

“Now it isn’t so bad, see? If I had known this is what you wanted in the first place we could’ve avoided a lot of stress, sweetheart”

A warmth blooms in your chest as a smile graces your face, a few moments of silence pass before you hear him speak again.

“Ah here we go, you like this one. You gotta learn to tell me this stuff, your mother says communication is important, y’know” He chuckled to himself.

Finally, you unlock the door and go into the apartment. Upon walking into the living area you find Mia lying on her tummy on the play mat, surrounded by toys within arm’s reach, and Matt lying on his stomach on the floor, chin resting on his arms facing Mia.

He greeted you the moment you walked in and you greeted back while putting the bags of groceries on the counter. You shrugged your jacket and shoes off and walked over to Matt and Mia, lying down right next to Matt, mirroring his position and facing Mia.

“Didn’t realise we all needed tummy time” You laughed, giving Matt a kiss on the cheek before leaning forward to kiss Mia on the forehead.

“This was what made her happy, who am I to argue” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re a sucker” You nudged him with your elbow.

“I might be” He laughed and hung his head.

Mia’s first birthday involved too much ice cream and cake, but Dani had insisted that after all the time she’d spent playing with Mia that she wanted ice cream and you didn’t have the heart to say no. She loved ripping the wrapping paper off of her gifts more than she liked the actual gifts, you made a note of that for when Christmas came around.

As she grew a whole corner of the office became a play area for her, and occasionally Dani. At first it was one corner, but as soon as she began walking unaided the whole office was hers to play in as far as she was concerned. Matt would often step on toys left lying around his office, muttering to himself in annoyance while putting it away. The conference room had become the nap room, and Mia enjoyed the walk between the office and home.

She often wanted to sit on yours or Matt’s lap while you worked, eager to bang on the computer keyboards and scribble on notepads. You caved and bought an old keyboard for her to play with, it meant she stayed off your lap a little longer, but not Matt’s.

Mia was a daddy’s girl through and through, and Matt would do anything for his little girl. His ears were always tuned in to the sound of ‘dada’ and always telling her she was perfect. You would often hear them having ‘conversations’ on his office, him telling her a story and she would babble back happily.

It was 1:30pm, you had put all work on hold to deal with Mia who refused to nap and was letting everyone else deal with the consequences. Matt was getting frustrated; she would cling to her dad when upset but he had work to do, and the crying child on the floor under his desk didn’t help with productivity. You were getting annoyed that she wasn’t being receptive to anything you did to calm her down and eventually gave up, bordering on tears yourself.

Despite the feelings of guilt Matt made you sit on the couch with him in his office and just leave Mia, she would cry herself tired. He reassured you that you weren’t a bad mother for letting it happen, and if she kept going then he would handle it. You leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, trying to relax even with the sound of crying filling the room. Matt rubbed your arm soothingly and sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.

The two of you hadn’t felt like this since the sleepless nights when Mia was a newborn, you’d gotten used to her good sleep schedule and generally good behaviour. Jess laughed that the ‘terrible twos’ was approaching, and you refused to believe your baby girl could be anything remotely near terrible. That was until today, when she wouldn’t nap and you were quickly running out of patience.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you came back to reality, thinking you had tuned out the crying you opened your eyes and took stock of the room around you. You lifted your head and looked at Matt who had a small smile on his face, looking relieved. It was then you clocked how quiet the room was.

“Is she-?” You whispered.

“Yep” He sighed in relief.

You got up from the couch and made your way over to the desk, crouching to peer underneath. Mia was curled up under Matt’s desk, dark hair pointing in all directions and cheeks still red from her meltdown. Other than the wet tears under her eyes she looked as peaceful as ever, and you felt the tension leave your shoulders.

Matt had gotten up and retrieved a blanket from the conference-slash-nap room to put over her. He joined you where you were crouched and carefully covered Mia with the blanket, then standing up and collecting his files. He sat on the couch and continued his work, while you went to make a cup of coffee, both of you pleased you could finally get some work done before going home for the day.

“I do it!”

“Okay okay, you can do it” Matt laughed as Mia tried to stir the pasta sauce by herself.

He had always preferred cooking when he had company to do it with, the two of you had loved cooking together since you first met. You weren’t chefs but Matt knew what tasted good and you had a knack for portioning pasta perfectly every time (Matt joked that it was your heightened sense). Now that Mia had come along, he had someone else to cook with who was always attached to his hip.

She attempted to stir the sauce, it being too thick for her small arms to handle and Matt sneakily helping her. Once a few stirs were done she clapped her hands and Matt gave her endless praises and cheek kisses, you couldn’t help but smile at them.

You had tried to feed her a mouthful, but she outright refused and said she could do it herself. It was at this point you realised she’d inherited Matt’s sense of independence, wanting to do everything on her own without any help. Trying to stop yourself from helping her when she was getting half the pasta sauce down her shirt was tough, and Matt’s giggles weren’t helping.

“Your daughter is becoming like you” You said to Matt while you both cleaned up after Mia had gone down to sleep for the night.

“Again with the my daughter, you had a hand in making her too y’know” He smiled, amused.

“She’s becoming stubborn, and refuses help. It’s sounding all too familiar, won’t be long until you’re teaching her how to throw a proper punch” You joke, rolling your eyes.

Matt walks up to you and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you close and kissing you with a smile on his face, and you can’t help but kiss back. Still giving you butterflies after all these years.

“You don’t have to worry about her, the way she plays with Dani, she’s inherited your kindness and empathy. Besides, I’m a good father so I won’t teach her how to throw a punch until she’s at least 5” He laughed again at this own joke while you just groaned and rolled your eyes.

Once his laughter has died down you kiss him on the cheek and begin walking towards the bathroom to have a shower.

“You’re lucky I love you, Mr Murdock”

“Very lucky indeed”

He quickly catches up to you and sweeps you off your feet, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom while you can’t help but giggle.

“Daddy!”

“Good morning sweetheart!”

Mia runs through the lounge room to the kitchen where Matt was getting her lunch ready. He takes a few steps forward to meet her and scoop her up in his arms when they meet. She wraps her arms around his neck while he holds her in a tight hug.

“Tell me what your outfit is today” He continues to hold her with one arm while getting food together with the other hand.

“Got a dress and boots”

“What colour are they?”

“Pink and blue, and pink!”

“As beautiful as always” He kisses her on the cheek before placing her back on the floor to run around the apartment for a little bit.

You walk into the kitchen to make coffee for you and Matt, giving him a kiss on the cheek and a quick good morning. The two of you start a discussion about the cases you’re currently working on and when the next court date is.

As you leave the apartment the glint of Matt’s red glasses on the shelf catches your eye, he hadn’t worn them in years. Right after the snap he was in such an awful place that wearing his glasses out was the least of his concerns, and it became a bit of a habit. Then when Mia came along, he didn’t want her remembering how he looked only with his glasses on, losing any reason to wear them daily.

On the walk from the apartment to the office Mia walks between the two of you, holding a hand each and skipping. Every few steps you and Matt lift her up by the arms and swing her, making her laugh loudly. Her laugh echoes down the otherwise quiet street, and you think you see someone on the other side of the street smile at the sound.

Halfway through the walk Mia begs to get on Matt’s shoulders and he can’t say no to his little girl, you mutter about how he’s a softie and he pretends to not hear you but reveals himself by rolling his eyes.

“Since its Friday did you wanna finish up early and head to the park for the afternoon?” You ask Matt, nearing the office.

“Yes park!” Mia cheered from her place up on Matt’s shoulders, her arms wrapped around his head, hands meeting on his forehead.

“Park sounds good” He turned his head towards you and smiled.

You reach the office building and Matt lifts Mia off of his shoulders, you begin making your way up the stairs, searching your bag for the keys to the office. Matt and Mia hung behind because Mia insisted Matt help her jump up every step.

Once the two of them had finally reached the office, Matt went to his desk as Mia tipped out her box of toys onto the floor and began rummaging through them all looking for something she wanted. You sat at the reception desk and opened your laptop, checking emails like any other day.

Today was a quiet day, not many emails and even fewer calls. It was mostly a day of research and helping Matt prepare for a court date the following week. Mia would interrupt to show you her drawings and you all took a break for lunch.

Mid-afternoon when the both of you were satisfied with how much work you’d gotten done that day began packing up the office, putting away files and leaving to-do lists for Monday. Matt walked out of his office and stood next to your desk, Mia was on the floor slowly putting her toys back into the box.

Suddenly, Matt started breathing heavily and bent over, having to hold onto the desk for support as if he’d just been hit in the gut. His eyes were wide and you were immediately concerned – you couldn’t lose him too.

“Matt, are you alright? What’s wrong?” You asked concerned, a hand on his arm and one on shoulder.

He turned his head towards you and the look on his face was worrying, a mix of horror and confusion. It made your blood go cold; the last time he looked like that the whole world came crashing down.

“Something’s happened” He breathed out, putting a hand on your arm and squeezing tight.

“Are you okay, dada?” Mia asked from her spot on the floor, confusion all over her face.

It was then you heard it, you heard everything; people yelling and screaming, cars honking, and sirens going off. Your legs almost gave way, your heart thundering in your ears and breathing becoming difficult as you try to comprehend what was happening.

Another breath left your lips, you squeezed your eyes shut and when you opened them there was another person in the room. Time seemed to stop, all the noises outside seemed to quiet as you took in the face of the person standing in front of you. Your voice had been ripped from you with the breath you had been holding, Matt was the one to speak first.

“Foggy?”

a/n: Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it and please let me know if you did <3 I could probably add some extra scenes in (or even write Karen and Foggy's return) so if you'd like to read more let me know and I might think about writing some more :) P.S: the 'important song' referenced about halfway through is Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer bc I LOVE that song.

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theangrypomeranian · 6 months

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Hey, I don't know if you remember me, lol. I left a (what felt like) rambly comment on Chapter 26 of Baby Steps on AO3 (under the same username) a long time ago, thanking you for portraying how Tina gets support from the people around her after dealing with all the jerky guys and the harrassment she faces. (I think I quoted what Frond said in that chapter, also?) Anyway, I kept reading until it was updated in August because of work and prepping for my sophomore year of college. I wish I still kept up with it at that point, honestly, as this story really just helped me with a lot, but life drained me.

I just recently was able to go back and pick up from where I left off (though I did go back to around the end of the prom arc, because that's what I had the clearest memory of). And I just wanna thank you again for writing this story.

You're an amazing writer, I'm so glad I found this story when I did. Thank you for responding to that comment I made way to early in the morning, for giving me an outlet to deal with these feelings I didn't know I still had from my harrassment experience, and thank you for responding with your kindness and understanding. You'll never know how much I sobbed when I saw your reply, especially when you had typed that you believed me. Even as I type this ask up, I'm getting teary-eyed thinking about it because some part of me still feels in disbelief that someone believes me. Thank you.

I've thought about this series for so long, and I'm glad I get to come back and continue reading. I hope you're well, and I wish you the best. Thank you for all that you do and for changing my life for the better. Truly, I admire you. I'll always be supporting you and your writing.

this has taken me way too long to respond do and i want to apologize for that. i have no excuse other than executive dysfuntion and general exhaustion like to kick my ass lol.

i want you to know that i literally think about you and that comment you left all the time because it means the absolute WORLD to me. i believe i told you in my reply that i am also a fellow survivor and i wrote the story for people like you and i to read and find some closure and healing in. knowing that i accomplished what i set out to do has kept me going so many times when i looked at the wip and had thoughts of just giving up, of abandoning it and disappearing from the internet. i couldn't because people like you and i deserve a happy ending. these characters and their stories deserve to be finished for people like us. and i want you to know that until the day i am gone, i will believe you and your story. what happened to you was awful and as Mr. Frond said, someone with authority should have stood up for you. in my opinion it is criminal that they didn't. you didn't deserve that. but you are so so strong for getting past that and being where you are now. and i am so incredibly proud of you, and i am forever humbled and grateful that my silly little fic has helped you even a little bit. thank you for sending this ask and telling me all of this, and i hope Baby Steps' ending makes you happy. <3

#pom answers #interwebseriesfan24 #casual affection au #baby steps #and again i'm so sorry this took me so long to respond to #you're incredible and i'm glad you found me here <3

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ask-carmenpondiego · 2 months

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Welcome back, though I don’t know if any mlp blogs are still around. A lot has changed and have to ask Miss Carmen, have you been just staying out of sight to avoid being found?

Thank you, my dear! I think there are some floating about still, Banana Pie was the first to welcome me back. But even if I may be one of the last, I’m not entirely sure I’m considered a mlp blog. If I am, awesome! If not, thats ok too.

I think its just me, M, Wally, and two kids who are fully mlp. The kids being Daring and Blendin. Aciano is a newly introduced child of Carmen and Lekir’s, he’s partly mlp but looks more like a kirin with more wolf characteristics instead of dragon. And Desiree has a chosen look of a pink tiger cat. She shares more DNA with her father Kiros, who is SCP 682 (only in this story world), just healed and cleaned up. Making her more like SCP 682-A. (She’s not officially an scp but in this story she is) Theres a whole chapter or so in progress to explain him and a much later one to explain her.

But yeah, I think the only thing keeping me as a mlp blog is pretty much the main character and some main supporting characters being mlp in origin. I’m happy to show off my story either way!

As for my disappearance, I have been hiding a little bit under the guise of pseudo-retirement. Story wise, its a bit more complicated, and have had false rumors of my death circulating around the social medias and news outlets.

But what really happened was that my artist had a bit of a mental burnout while dealing with some cancer and financial things, really mentally heavy things.

She’s been dealing with it for more than 5 years and things just came to a head and popped. She secluded herself from everything, hiding me away in her head, she stopped talking to all of her friends, it got bad.

Now she has a better job, her health is bouncing back as are finances and she’s feeling like her old self, so I resurfaced and helped her reconnect with everyone, but theres still more fixing to do. Its like fixing up an old dusty house back to its old glory. A bit of spit and shine. Good as new.

#mlp oc pony #carmen pondiego #the-lonescout #real life #mlp blog #character design

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celestial-inkblots · 1 year

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NaNo 2022 [Day 8]: Hello World!

Hello World!

That is what you're suppose to say the first time you post on a blog or website isn't it? Sounds silly.

Any how, let me explain...

Earlier this week I ventured into the great unknown of my first ever attempt at NaNoWrimo, and let me tell you its been a hell of a journey so far.

For starters, I'm a Plantser (a Plotter and Pantser for those who don't know) and yet I found myself without a single plotted detail and a killer head cold to boot. After two long days in bed, and my sweet boyfriend looking after me between naps, I finally sat down and started writing. Writing what? I had no clue, but the words came anyways.

I figured the best route to start venturing down without a plan (and being days behind) was to write into a niche that I frequently read, and was frequently annoyed by.

Why would I continue to read a niche I was constantly annoyed by? Well, to find the gems in the pile of crap of course. But that also gave me an idea. Could I write a novel (of at least 50,000K words) and come out with a story that held the gold I enjoyed of the genre and avoided the eye-roll-and-unalive-me-now sections that frequented many of the stories I've read.

Answer: Maybe?

Of course, my Plotter heart couldn't stay closed in forever. As the story began to flow so did the details for down the road and so on.

And as I kept writing I kept wanting to talk about my journey through NaNo. Sure I have a small TikTok with 1035 followers and growing (that I am very thankful for). And yes most of those people are BookTok and AuthorTok mutuals that would enjoy NaNo updates, but getting in front of a camera everyday to make an update just wasn't sitting right in my stomach.

Then I talked to my roommate. She loves reading and she loves to hear about my stories, and as we were talking I said something like, "I miss my blog."

What blog do I mean? Well my Max-Dan-Wiz blog of course. It was a sad day when that site was taken down and my fanfiction of the Maximum Ride era disappeared from the the internet. Or maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Who can really be sure?

But in the end what I got out of our long talk was that I did really, really, really missed my blog, and I was itching to log in and tell my little corner of the internet what I was doing. That led me back here to Tumblr after years of unuse.

I scrapped together a blog name, found a suitable theme that still needs personal editing and began my first post in over ten years for a writing blog of my very own again.

And now here you are reading that very post. Hello :)

In the end, I don't know if this blog will stay active very long, or even if it'll attract any followers like my Max-Dan-Wiz did, but its an outlet. An outlet that makes me feel good about sharing where my writing journey is right now. That's all I can ask for from the internet. So follow or don't follow. Like or don't like. But if you made it this far into my rant, thank you for reading.

[[More updates about my niche, nano 2022 project will be coming in another post soon. ]]

And once more for old times sake . . .

Be well my Mutants, and Fly On.

#new blog #nanowrimo #nano 2022 #max-dan-wiz #maximum ride #hello world #just getting started

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fractallion · 7 months

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🎵 What The Hell Happened

This post was originally published on September 26th 2003. Penned by John Parker - one of the founders of the original Just Good Music Blog. The source was found thanks to <a href=“https://web.archive.org/web/20030101000000*/http://www.justgoodmusic.net” target=“_blank” rel=“noopener noreferrer”>The Internet Archive Wayback Machine.These days it sits in my online archives, but just last month it was 20 years old and I wanted to resurface it, because I always liked it, for me, still holds true. What do you think? AND, I wonder if John would be interested in a twenty years later update? We will see,

Lately I haven’t derived the same pleasure from my music collection, or even music in general, that I’ve been accustomed to my whole life. I’m trying to figure this out.

It used to be simpler, I think. You would reach an age - let’s say 30 on average - and pretty much drop out of the current music scene. Your record collection would begin to age like fine wine. You’d stop going to gigs and reading Rolling Stone and Down Beat, and the station presets in your car were no longer college stations playing the wide range of emerging new stuff, but the major commercial channels playing bands who are all 6 months away from being featured in a Lexus commercial. There was a clear dividing line between the stuff the kids and the grown-ups listened to that has faded, blurred and, finally, today, disappeared.

Leaving aside the impact on today’s teenagers of not really having a musical outlet for those rebellious impulses, where does this leave us? What are our options as we mature in our lifestyles? Do our musical tastes change, or, as I’m beginning to suspect, does the time pressure we’re under in the push for ever-greater productivity at work, quality time with family, expanding our educational horizons and seeking new experiences in our recreation hours force us to rely more and more on commercial filters for access to new music?

Typically we proceed down one of two paths. The first is to go deeper instead of wider. We stick to the same bands that we listened to in our youth, kidding ourselves that we’re still at the bleeding edge. Somehow we allow it to escape our notice that the bands we once thought would lead the revolution and bring down the establishment are now peddling mobile phones. The other route is that we conscientiously seek out new sounds, but we do it in tightly defined context of the ‘Emerging Artists Block’ on KLLC Tuesday nights at 8:00pm. Surrounding ourselves with the familiar, grounding the experience just as firmly in our past. This exposes us to bands that are perhaps a year away from the TV commercial breakthrough, but still clearly well established successes, hardly bands that need our sponsorship, our interest or us.I think it mostly comes down to time.

Certainly the world is a busier place, and cell phones, laptops, Internet access, Blackberrys, pagers and PDAs don’t help. Sometimes technology does us a disservice, and as much as the perpetually connected nature of our modern lives enhances our productivity and responsiveness, I miss the time I used to have alone with my stereo system.

In high school, I spent 80% of my disposable income on my stereo system, Infinity Reference Studio monitors, Marantz receiver, Thorens turntable, and a Nakamichi cassette deck. After school, I would make compilation tapes while doing my homework. I miss lowering the stylus into the record groove, counting the seconds from the end of the previous song and allowing for the delay in engaging the tape deck, winding up the input volumes for smooth transitions between songs and volume-leveling wildly varying album recordings by ear. Today, I can drag-and-drop 10 hours of music into my MP3 player in about 8 seconds. I can save virtual playlists, creating, modifying and deleting compilations instantly. It’s certainly more convenient, but it’s nowhere near as engaging.

In college, I spent 80% of my disposable income on records. Living in a dorm and in an off-campus apartment with roommates, we shared our record collections and commented actively on each others musical tastes. My friends collectively listened to a wide variety of music, and I eagerly devoured every new artist, new style, and new sound in my quest for great musical experiences. Today, I have less time for that, less engagement with my friends in purely recreational activities like listening to music. I miss that.

One nice thing about record albums was that they had two sides. Again, it’s certainly more convenient to have all the music on a CD that can play straight through. And even more so to have them all recorded digitally on the PC. But having an album side that lasts 20-25 minutes forces you to pay attention. You have to get up and turn the record over, which reengages you. Having hours of music queued up, it’s easy to let your mind wander back to the ever-present to-do lists. These days, I too frequently put a new CD on, start listening to it, and realize some time later that the CD is over and I can’t remember anything beyond the first song.

Today, my primary listening venue is my car. It’s not by choice, as it certainly isn’t an ideal listening environment even with the very best automotive stereo equipment. This is the only block of time that I have, however, that is long enough to listen to an entire CD at one time. In the car, though, I inevitably wind up spending all my time on the cell phone. And there’s simply no getting around the fact that your attention is going to be demanded by your driving, and the insanity of other drivers trapped in the 90 minute commute to Silicon Valley - flying down I-280 at 90mph mandates focused attention.

Nor am I alone in this. I was over at a friend’s house last weekend doing some dedicated music listening - something that has happened all too infrequently of late. I have been thinking about these issues for a while, and decided to reach out and see if I could force some engagement. Miguel and Diana are from Brazil, and I brought up Brazilian music and they volunteered to play some of their collection for us. So we packed up some food and joined them for a musical lunch on Saturday. We heard Oswaldo Montenegro, Milton Nascimento, Chico Buarqueâ, all great stuff. Miguel had, of course, ripped all the songs to his computer, and we were listening to it over some pretty crappy computer speakers. Hardly ideal. I complimented him on the selection, though, and his response was yeah, you should hear it in my car! This is just wrong.

So now, understanding the issues a little better, I see a clear need to reengage my musical sensibilities. I think, for me, this means two things.

First, I need to plan some dedicated music time. It can’t be an after-thought any more, because my free time for ad hoc recreational activities is asymptotically approaching zero. If it’s a priority, it needs to be reflected in my calendar. I need to put some thought into that, too, because I’m going to have a hard time defending hours of just sitting in the Lazy-Boy listening to CDs. I need to be doing something with the music. Maybe it’s time to develop a digital archiving system. Maybe wire the house for sound, including the patios outside. Maybe some stereo equipment upgrades are in order. Maybe I need to spend some time classifying my current music collection, and expanding it into new areas. Maybe write some music reviews I can share with friends or even wider audiences.

Secondly, it’s also clearly time to get back into concert mode. I need to find the local clubs with live music, watch the major venues for show announcements and plan my calendar around some key concerts. And there needs to be a focus on new music. Nothing gets the blood flowing like watching the band hit their zone on stage, rocking out and feeling the music flowing through the crowd, that sense of being there that not even the finest stereo equipment can reproduce.

Music is too important to me to let it simply fade into the background of my life. It’s a part of who I am and who I want to be, and it deserves some attention. We’re going on a quest to get reacquainted. My foray into Brazilian music my friends last weekend was the first conscious step on this journey. I’ll send you some notes from the road from time to time.

This post was originally published on September 26th 2003, penned by John Parker - one of the founders of the original Just Good Music Blog. The source was found thanks to The Internet Archive Wayback Machine.

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imtooscaredforthis · 3 years

Note

This is stupid idea came in after getting my ass tunneled by a legion, but what if frank’s ex or first love someone that “got away” became a survivor ?

I love that idea! Thank you for the request! And AAAA Okay I rlly loved the way I wrote this and omddgdggdhd I might actually make this a mini series and rewrite this but ashsgsgsg

The One That Got Away

(Part one find part two here)

Frank had heard the rumors about a new survivor, but he didn’t pay much attention to them. All survivors meant to him was more prey. More pests he had to chase after and exterminate.

Not that he really minded, of course. It was something he enjoyed. Something that got him high from all the power. An outlet for him to take out all of his pent up rage and anger. So, this new survivor shouldn’t be any different to him.

That is, until he sees who it is.

It was just another trial and things are going well. Frank has two survivors hooked, and is on his way chasing after the third. But then he completely stopped when he saw you, rescuing both survivors just before they could reach second hook.

It couldn’t be. You were too beautiful, too kind, too perfect to be in a place like this. He took a step closer, watching, getting a better look. It was you. You.

He felt his heart slam against his chest, his head throbbing from his disappearing adrenaline rush of the chase.

You, who he had known since he was ten years old. You, who hopped from foster home to foster home with him for years. You, who refused to leave his side, acting out when any parents wanted to adopt you. You, who could calm him down when he lashed out in anger. You, who would watch horror movies and killer documentaries with him, despite being terrified and hating them, ending up nuzzling your face into his shoulder. You, who was always wanted by other families and random boys that came up to you and asked you out. You, who chose him despite all the others, and fell in love with him. You, who eventually had to leave him when you were seventeen, and he had never gotten over it since. It was always you.

Frank thought he was numb to it by now. Thought he was over the pain of you abandoning him. Thought he had moved on and found someone so much better. Someone who was like him. Someone who he deserved.

But seeing you in front of him now, being so close yet so far, made all the emotions come fleeting back. Anger, betrayal, sadness, happiness, fondness, everything.

And the next thing he knew, his feet were moving for him, making him take off into a sprint. You and the others had already started running, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about this stupid trial anymore or the other survivors. When he saw you, everything changed, and his mind was solely set on you.

He wanted to catch you. He wanted to make you hurt, just like you hurt him when you left. He wanted to hold you. He was so conflicted, so confused, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Nothing you could do would keep him away. Drop a pallet? He’d just slide over it. Vault a window? He’d jump through after you. He was persistent and he didn’t stop until he caught you.

And he did, straddling you and pinning you to the ground underneath him. You’re squirming and trembling under him, trying to escape, but it’s no use. He’s too strong and you understand that.

Do you even recognize him? He’s gotten bigger, stronger, and colder. You’ve grown even more beautiful, and he doubted that could ever be possible. But here you were, and despite being banged up by this place, you looked as beautiful as ever. Hell, your skin looked like it was glowing, so soft and smooth, round doe (e/c) eyes staring up at him with such fear and terror.

You flinch when he cups your cheek, stroking it softly and you tried not to gag at the scent of blood that hovered from his hands.

Wait- Shit- what was he doing?

He pulls his hand away quickly, grabbing his hood and and shoving it over his face. “Fuck, stop that.”

He mutters to himself, stabbing the knife into the ground next to you. You jump, but look up at him in a much different way, curious, conflicted, and scared, but a different type of scared, recognizing the familiar habit he had of messing with his hood.

You shake your head, a small mumble that he heard as clear as day falling from your lips. “Frank?”

@prettycutebunny

#dbd #dead by deadlight #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd legion #legion dbd #frank morrison #legion frank #frank morrison x reader #killer x reader #dbd survivor

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fanficbitch · 3 years

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BFF // Aaron Hotchner

“Look what I found!” you say, nearly yelling as you burst into your shared bedroom with Aaron.

He’s reading his book and jumps a little in seat right as you came in the door. He looks a tad annoyed, but he’ll get over it. “Where have you been?” Aaron asks. You assumed he would be wondering. You did disappear after dinner for nearly two hours with out as much as a ‘goodbye’.

“Your storage unit,” you say as you plug the enormous block into the outlet.

Aaron lets out a stiff laugh. “There could be anything in there,” he says.

“But look!” you shout as you hold the old piece of technology in front of him. Technically, it’s your old flip phone. The one you used right as you started working at the BAU. Shortly after being there, Penelope convinced Aaron to upgrade your phones for “work purposes”.

Aaron glances from you to the phone, you to the phone. “It’s an old cellphone?” he asks.

“Not just any old cellphone,” you say as you settle in bed next to him. Luckily the cord reaches pretty far and allows you to lay in bed comfortably. “My old cellphone,” you say which gets Aaron’s attention.

“How old are we talking?” he asks as he wraps an arm around you which lands on your waist.

“Like when I started working at the BAU old,” you say and the screen illuminates. “Ahh! It’s charged!”

Aaron lets out a laugh. “I’ve never seen someone get so excited over an old phone,” he says.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” you say. “Let’s start with pictures.”

Even though the photos are in horrible quality, it is easy to tell it is from a crime scene. “I can see your phone is filled with happy memories,” Aaron says which causes you to smack his chest.

You go to your text messages and one of the most recent recipients is Aaron. “Wow, look, at this point you’re still ‘Hotch’ in my phone,” you say. You open your messages between each other, but it’s pretty bland. “We had some exciting conversation. Hotch: ‘when are you coming in?’, me: ‘in the elevator.’. That was really sexy,” you giggle.

Aaron’s hand suddenly comes from behind you and snaps the phone shut. “What are you-,” you start to ask.

“I don’t like looking at those,” he frowns. “It reminds me of when I was so unhappy.”

You turn in his arms and brush back some of his hair. “Well look where we are now? That stuff is all just a funny memory,” you say then lean in for what you think will be a short kiss. However, Aaron grabs your waist and pulls you closer to his body.

You move so you are straddling his lap while his hands dance up your back. The kiss lingers on for a few moments before Aaron pulls away. “You know what?” he asks and you tilt your head, listening. “Those texts also remind me of how thankful I am for you. That person all those years ago was sad and broken, but you found someway to put me back together.”

All you can do in that moment is kiss him. When he pulls away he has one final thing to add. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, I know,” I whisper then continue kissing him. This continues for a moment before he pulls away again.

“You know this is usually the part where you tell me that I’m your best friend too,” Aaron smiles.

“But you’re not my best friend.”

Aaron’s eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “Alright, who is then?”

“Derek,” you say as you roll off of Aaron. However, he quickly pulls you back into him by your waist so he can whisper in your ear.

“Any chance that spot is up for grabs?” he asks.

“Possibly. To the right person,” you smirk. Aaron positions himself on top of you then throws off his shirt.

“Oh, I’ll show you I’m the right person,” he says then begins kissing your neck which sends you into a fit of giggles.

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jeriafterdark · 2 years

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813 - The Reprise, Part 4/? - Dec 19, 2021

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Three.1

Masterpost for all parts

Hey everyone, it's been awhile since my last update. I've been following Uncle Li's struggles against CAPA and the Chinese entertainment industry as a whole since my last update on Dec 3, 2021. I'll only be covering things that I feel are distinct steps in ZZH's case, or that may be important for c-ent as a whole.

Let's get to it.

Thank you to all the referenced translators on Twitter, they’re the real heroes here ^^ Do check them out and give them a follow if you’d like a play-by-play on ZZH/CAPA/Uncle Li.

1. Wang LeeHom (a famous C singer) / WLH had a recent scandal where his wife revealed many facts about their relationship

WLH's wife came out and revealed that he's been an abusive husband / neglectful husband and such to her, with receipts. How does this relate to CAPA/ZZH/Uncle Li? Well, Uncle Li even predicted that CAPA will allow this scandal to make it to the Hot Search on weibo to take the heat off of themselves. Although, CAPA hasn't added his name to their supposed "immoral actors" list, I wonder why...? (We all know why, money probably paid them off).

2. Dec 16 - Uncle Li / LXZ - posted an article from China Youth Daily (that was published Aug, 25, 2021)

It detailed many different people from artists to politicians who had their pasts dug up by others with the intent of causing one’s “social death,” which we collectively call ‘cancel culture’ here in the West.

“In fact, people’s behavior online is only a very small aspect of life, looking at one’s online past is overemphasized.” Moreover, who can open up their QQ (C facebook) from 10 years ago and not feel embarrassed?

It’s interesting that this article was published after 813. Was it in consideration of ZZH’s case? Or were they tone-deaf? Who knows. Uncle Li certainly is suave at choosing what to post, to call the attention of the government and its people.

3. Dec 15 - Uncle Li invited a few Law professors to livestream on several platforms including Bilibili, Weibo, etc on CAPA and any legal implications of their goings-on.

This was notoriously watched by millions of people, but the platforms kept interrupting his stream on multiple outlets. Not only that, the law firm who was involved was muted on Weibo too? They were only trying to educate the public about current laws that govern this industry. But of course, those with power and in power generally do not want the public knowing about actual laws that would help common people. I can see why their effort was thwarted. Uncle Li emphasized later that it’s not the platform’s fault, that he and the professors should have run it by BiliBili/etc first to warn them. The platforms are also under careful scrutiny by the government, so any wrong moves would be hefty fines. (Does this imply that there are those in the government also involved? I would say yes. Of course. For where is the most power often concentrated? That doesn’t mean the official stance of the c-gov is against Uncle Li, no. There are probably players in the government who are double dipping, benefitting from CAPA, and who have been sending threats to Uncle Li (he’s noted these threats before, but is unconcerned)).

The Weibo CEO also thought he was being cheeky by saying

"If you're a man, you'd last at least 10minutes. I know stamina for 60min is an issue for a middle aged man but I have faith in you."

It’s kind of insane to me that his PR department lets him speak lol. Does he think he’s that powerful? He’s made digs at Uncle Li’s pursuit for justice before. This is just another in a long line of childish insults.

To get back at him, netizens created a tag #来总 3秒# "Weibo CEO, 3 seconds"

4. A supposed contract to silence ZZH for 6 months - 1 year + Antis have been mobilized

Uncle Li shared an anonymous story that talks about anti’s (anti-fans, basically trolls or paid trolls), who took on the job to ruin ZZH. The contract included a clause stating that they must ensure that he disappeared for more than 6 mo to a year before they receive the rest of their payment. (Long screen-capped image here)

OP’s note: To have such powerful players and money back a concerted effort to destroy one’s career for at least a year… What did ZZH do? Was he that powerful and popular? Sigh. More on my thoughts later.

5. Happy News: ZZH’s mother received over 20,000 story submissions for her tea shop’s story contest

For her contest, “my story, your tea,” she received over 20,000 submissions. So she’s expanding to 20 winners :) I’m sure many of those stories are well-wishes from ZZH’s fans. She estimates that all will be completed by Dec 25.

6. Uncle Li ensures that the relevant authorities already have the case in hand.

The relevant gov. Agencies are looking into CAPA and are gathering evidence. This process may take awhile as they are trying to be thorough. So there may not be many new updates, but we’ll see. He optimistically said maybe he could get it done by this year?? Or up to a year or two from now. We’ll just have to sit tight. I’m glad that he’s still standing up for ZZH, for c-ent, and he’s clever enough to avoid all the dirt and mud that people are slinging at him. These were my impressions from Dec 3 to now, I forgot which tweets it was from but there were many with the same idea.

Conclusion so far, my thoughts:

Soooo, Uncle Li is ensuring that he’s plugging away at ZZH’s case. The tag “justice for the people '' is now at BILLIONSSS of views btw. And still no hot search. Who knew that Chinese entertainment was so interconnected, so corrupt that all the platforms essentially operate with shadowy back alley transactions? I didn’t know it was this bad. But I’m no expert in entertainment behind-the-scenes.

I think this experience teaches us all, even those outside of China, an important idea. That no matter who you are, you’re always vulnerable to someone digging up your past and smearing you. As long as the money is paid, and as long as you angered the right/wrong people. Sometimes, there will be an Uncle Li to stand up and defend you. But most of the time, there won’t be. So as a member of the public, when you hear a new rumor, or you’re so far removed from some celebrity’s scandal, just remember to keep in mind that what you hear may not be true. Give the situation time for concrete evidence to show. Don’t be baited into participating against hating someone. (Not that ZZH did anything wrong, to be fair).

You can always change your mind. The victim may have done some shit in the past, but they can also always change their mind. Let’s judge people for who they choose to be, right now. Not who they once were. I think that’s the best way forward. It’s NOT to say that I’m not annoyed, or I don’t fall into the rumor pit-traps either. But it’s too easy to ruin someone’s life. I don’t want to do that, or have a hand in that. I’m a fan of restorative justice, healing justice. I don’t want to punish someone forever, their life is only theirs, I don’t have to live it. Life sucks enough, the world is already dying, why make it harder for ourselves?

You can always change your mind, and so can other people~ Thanks for reading!

#zzh #li xuezheng #uncle li #zhang zhehan #c-ent #junzhe #lld #langlangding #813 #813 the reprise #tales from the mountaintop #lxz #cdramas

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sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter · 3 years

Text

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #hot take: scott should have brought back stiles in 6b not lydia #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski one shot #dylan obrien #isaac lahey #dylan o'brien

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embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Content: swearing, angst, no proofreading, filler? A/N: i hope your week has been great so far xx

【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】

Chapter 35 ✷ Picture’s Up

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James couldn't recall a time where he felt so drained.

He didn’t even think there was a word to encapsulate just how drained he really felt. Every day, there was a wariness that sunk and immersed itself so deeply within his bones that made it feel like he could hardly breathe.

Day by day, it felt like a part of his sanity was cracking.

Enervated, drowsy, exhausted, knackered, dead on his own two feet… he could go on.

Prefect duties were as dreadful as Remus had said they were and James regretted every time he ever made fun of him for it. It was miserable and karma never hit him harder. Monitoring detentions and rounds were tedious, the tests he had to grade were mind-numbingly boring; all forcing him to lose the little sleep he had.

And then there were the loads of Quidditch practices that once were fun, a way for him to exert his remarkable supply of energy, only became a bit of a nuisance with the overwhelming activities he was forced to juggle.

Working around Moony’s moon cycle...

And then there was the fucking Black family.

The mere mention of their names sent James into a spiral. He’d rather submerge himself into the Black lake and let the giant squid ink all over him than deal with them. But there he was.

He debated for a while, whether or not to tell Black about Regulus but refrained. He was far too stubborn to listen and could make matters worse.

James sighed, leaning into the couch in the common room, running his fingers through his hair.

“Potter.” The ring of Lily’s voice sounded through his ears. James turned around to look at her, feeling his heart accelerate.

“Evans,” he greeted.

“We have rounds in a bit. Don’t be late.”

James simply nodded, not having enough energy to put on a front.

And of course Lily noticed. She noticed his frazzled appearance and lack of energy. There was hardly any banter between them and Lily would’ve thought it was a miracle that his annoying self had vanished, replaced with timorous energy. But if anything, it was disquieting.

She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing out, “Hey, you alright?”

He gave a little audible sound in response. “Yeah. I’ll be there. I just need to make a few arrangements quickly. Meet you by the... Prefects’ bathroom?”

Lily considered him.

“... See you.”

James made his way out of the common room, slipping out the Marauder’s Map. He’d been tracking Regulus’ movements for the past few days now and the only person he went to was Y/N for any substantial amount of time.

He truly had no one else and it ruled out any potential bullying.

Walburga and Orion… Their treatment towards him shocked James. Golden boy Regulus, who would’ve thought?

But even with the Marauder’s Map, it was impossible to keep track of him. He never stayed in one spot long enough to catch, aside from the dungeons and Slytherin common room.

Everything regarding Regulus’ situation forced James to think strenuously. If he were to accidentally say too much of what Whiskers had told him, not only would Regulus close himself off to him, but to her too, leaving them with no clue of his well-being.

And it forced him to worry about Whiskers. She didn’t know what she's getting herself into… What if Walburga and Orion caught word of their friendship?

James shuddered, pushing away the thought. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to either of them.

He continued to watch Regulus’ name travel across the map before ascertaining he was close. He tapped on the map, muttering out ‘Mischief managed’ whilst bolting down the hallways. Each twist and turn exhilarated a nervous adrenaline thumping through his veins as he rehearsed a little speech inside his head.

Before Regulus had time to process what was happening, James had already yanked him back, disappearing into one of the secret passageways.

“What the — Potter?!” He squawked. Pushing him away, James saw the pure panic washed over his features through the shadows.

“I know we don’t have much time,” James rushed, “But hear me out.”

He made no attempt to move but looked around for other students.

“You’ll always have a home with me,” James said easily as if it was the most obvious answer. “With Bla — Sirius — living with me, you’re more than welcome to as well. I understand your situation and —”

“No,” Regulus leered, “I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” James challenged before easing up. “My family and I are more than willing to protect you, like how we’ve been doing for Sirius.”

And then it stayed silent for a while and he finally let himself take in his appearance.

“Regulus, what happened to you?”

Regulus’ head hung. “All I wanted was to have long hair.”

And then it clicked for James, but he was running out of things to say that were convincing and felt a familiar panic return.

“You miss him, right?” He tried. “I know he misses you. If maybe —”

But when Regulus’ mood suddenly changed, James knew instantly that he had miscalculated.

“Miss me?” Regulus laughed bitterly. “He doesn’t miss me and he has never considered me his brother. You, Lupin, Pettigrew — you’re his brothers.”

He could see the misty tears welding up in Regulus’ eyes and didn’t make a move to stop him when he stormed out from the passageway.

Once Regulus was free from James, he sprinted, blinking multiple times to prevent tears from seeping out. An ache burned inside his chest as he found himself diving into his bed, pulling the curtains shut.

Those unforgettable questions that plagued his mind for a year now played heavily in his mind, like his own personal film.

What made someone good or bad? What did he believe in? Was he strong enough to break from his mould or did he want to? And most importantly, what was he willing to do?

Blood purity…

Regulus closed his eyes. He wished life was a dress rehearsal and there were times to make mistakes and have do-overs without permanent repercussions. To get time to practice and refine life until he explored every avenue. Unfortunately, life had no room for anything but the final performance. Every stumble, every mishap or memory slip was presented to a live audience day by day.

Reopening his eyes, he had his answer.

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A few weeks went by and September was coming to a close. October came with beautiful colours and a chilly breeze.

It felt like every day, Y/N added another reason to be disgruntled and hateful onto her list. It had been a month since she’d last seen her mother and she refrained from sending any letters; waiting patiently to see if she would make the first move.

Nothing.

It was safe to say that it put her into a bad mood that morning.

The walk to Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lily was a quiet one and slightly uncomfortable. However, the uncomfortable bit was more on Lily’s end rather than Y/N who was too wrapped in her anger-induced thoughts.

These days, their lessons were almost exclusively in the Duelling room, filled with practical lessons. Especially today, she was beyond thankful for; eager to have an outlet.

But Professor Elway was unusually keen on inviting her to the Duelling sessions. She was almost as difficult as dodging Slughorn’s Slugclub invites. Luckily, Y/N liked Elway and duelling was electrifying. Even potion making, no matter how much she enjoyed it, was lengthy and mundane.

Mentioning their professor, she wasn’t there that morning when they arrived outside the Duelling room. The students lounged outside the door, taking out their books and wand while they waited.

Remus found himself drifting to her as they quietly chatted away.

“Like your sweater,” she said. In the background, she could hear Marlene and James yelling, “It’s a jumper!”

Remus smiled. “This old thing?” Pointing to the sweater that she knitted. They both giggled a bit; Remus leaned slightly against her, eyes lingering a beat.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Elway called out to them in a dreamy voice. “Everyone, follow me!”

Puzzled, the class looked at each other as they followed their professor away from the dungeons. While they walked, rude and unbearable, Peeves the Poltergeist floated upside down. Once he spotted Remus, he immediately drifted up to him, opening his mouth, no doubt about to hurl all sorts of names or songs at him.

Remus hardly looked at him, already taking out his wand and said lazily, “Waddiwasi!” at Peeves.

A wad of gum shot out from nowhere and landed directly on Peeves before he whirled back from Remus, spewing curses at him.

“Nice one! Ought to teach me that later!” “Almost feel bad for the bloke!” Both James and Peter said at the same time.

Elway had led them outside to a desolate area, free from a canopy of branches and leaves.

“Now, my pupils!” She sang. “You might be wondering, ‘what are we doing out here?’ Lucky for you, we’re going to be practicing a few spells and learning how to fight using other means during duels.”

Like most of the class, Emmeline was skeptical as she raised her hand. “I thought we weren’t supposed to use physical means during duels?”

“Precisely,” said Elway, walking back and forth in front of the class. “Couldn't have said it better myself. But you know who won’t give a damn?”

There was a long pause for effect.

“Your enemies.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, can anyone give us some ideas? How about… Miss L/N?”

Blinking a few times, she hesitated, not expecting to be called on. “Er — you can… take them from the legs?”

“Wonderful idea! I’m thrilled you said that! Does anyone else want to add on?”

Remus raised his hand, answering politely. “Using your arms — stretching them.”

Professor Elway nodded away happily. “Wonderful answer! Take five points! Like Remus said, stretching your arms out or boarding your shoulders, spacing out your legs can widen your defence range! Why don’t we try?”

She called Remus up first and Y/N could tell he was slightly nervous. He doubled down, making himself seem smaller by hunching over and made sure not to accidentally hurt their professor.

A couple of Hufflepuffs, Slytherins and then James, Marlene and Lily all tried; mimicking Elway as she let them knock her over.

“Most importantly,” Elway said, dusting off her robes free from leaves and dirt. She panted a bit, tired from being knocked down multiple times. “Never let the enemy strike first. You all did fantastically!

“Obviously, in any professional setting, you’ll be disqualified if you ever tried to physically attack your opponent. But you can still play dirty in a duel!

“The charm Obscuro has been helpful on several occasions. It blindfolds your opponent. Please repeat after me: Ob-SKOO-roh!”

“Obscuro!”

“Excellent!” Elway gave a little applause, filled with glee. “Another spell that I love is the Confundus charm. Y/N! May you please explain to us the purpose of the Confundus charm?”

“She’s calling on you an awful lot,” Lily muttered.

She nodded a bit. “It confuses your oppent. The varying degree depends on how much magic is put into the initial casting.”

“Perfect! Five points to Gryffindor. If you will tell me about Incendio.”

As she spoke, there was almost a switch that went off in Elway that made her incessantly happy that almost unnerved her.

“Beautiful! Now if you may, help demonstrate the spell?”

“I don’t want to hurt —”

“Trust me, you won’t.”

Then, Y/N felt a deep lurch of fear as everyone retreated against the trees, giving her a clear view of Professor Elway opposed to her, waiting to block her spell.

She took a deep breath in, pushing up the sleeves of her robes, she held her wand.

Professor Elway had a protective spell around her. “One, two, three — now!”

“Incendio!” Only meek sparks shot out of her wand. A few students snickered while her friends were seen trying to drown them out by clapping.

“That was amazing!” Peter called out.

“I wouldn’t be able to do that on the first go!” Marlene shouted.

“That was good! Try again! One, two, three — go!”

“Incendio!” Nothing noteworthy happened. It was embarrassing.

“It’s alright, try again!” Elway said, not letting her go yet. “Think about something that’s motivating!”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and pondered. What was motivating to her? Surely, the want to continue with magic after school was motivating. Or perhaps proving someone wrong?

Proving someone wrong…

She had a lot to prove to her mother.

Instead of her being motivated, a flicker of annoyance and anger flooded her instead. Sensing the change, Elway beamed, her wand held high.

“One —”

Her mother always prioritized everyone and everything above her —

“Two —”

Was never there when it mattered —

“Three —”

There was never much affection. The constant want to please, the low self-esteem made her feel worthless, unloveable, always wanting to run when she got too close — she caused it —

“Now!”

“Incendio!” She bellowed.

A loud crack rippled through the air and caused her to stumble back. A large blast of orange and red flames shot out from her wand. Scorching heat flooded out, causing all the students to jump back as Elway shot waves of water, extinguishing the flames at once. As angry as she had been, glee and pure enjoyment replaced that quickly.

Once the bell rang, the students gathered up their belongings, leaving for their next class. But Elway took a moment, calling out her name, asking that she stay back for a few moments.

James and Lily staggered behind, offering to wait as they talked quietly under one of the willow trees.

They were so civil these days…

“I would’ve offered you a cup of tea,” Elway spoke as she approached her. Her foot tapped against the ground, her eyes far-away, thinking thoughtfully with a sly smirk. “Has anyone told you that you would make for an excellent, excellent duellist?”

Her eyebrows raised and shook her head.

That only prompted her teacher to smirk, in a satisfied sort of way. “You’re exceptionally strong for someone with no experience.”

There was a smug tone to Elway’s voice and she couldn’t quite place what she was getting at.

“Did you know that any professional duellist would kill for your wand? Or even the slight edge you have against them with your talent?”

“Erm… no?” Y/N said. She wondered if Elway needed glasses because surely, she wasn’t referring to herself. “Professor… are you sure you’re talking to the right student?”

She laughed so hard that she had to clutch her stomach tightly. She ignored her question. “My dear, do you have any ideas of what you want to be when you’re older?”

“Not really.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she beamed, flicking her long blonde, almost silver hair out of the way. “Let me take you under my wing, make you into a proper duellist.”

Y/N blinked. She didn’t know what to say and stood there with her mouth gaped.

“Yes, you heard that correctly.” Professor Elway teased. “I’d love to mentor you.”

She sputtered, positively confused and flustered. “I’m not at the top of the class, I struggle with Charms, I’ve never had a huge interest in it — I don’t know the first thing about duelling!”

“That’s what I’m here for, no? And your skill is exceptional and I know a duellist when I see one. You’ve shown the last few lessons that you’re capable of casting very strong spells.

“And do you know what separates a duellist from the masses? Energy, emotions and power. What changed when I told you to think about something motivating? A powerful Duellist may only be out of sheer power and brunt force, but a well-rounded Duellist listens to every part of their body. Their wand, their heart, the emotions that cause them to fight.”

“But —”

Elway flicked her wrist, mildly interested in her excuses. “Anyway, off to your next lesson. Take some time to think about it,” she smiled, clearly not going to take no for an answer. “I’ll be waiting for when you finally agree.”

Both Lily and James took her arms, hooking it with theirs and walked to Potions. They were staring at her, lost for words at Professor Elway’s proposition.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

“Yes, Pettigrew.” McGonagall scolded rather harshly. “The essay is due on Monday.”

Peter averted his gaze, grumbling out a thank you before exiting her office. “Dunno why she’s so strict with me.”

“She wants the best for you,” James tried to encourage as they all headed back to their common room.

Y/N couldn’t care less as she thought about later that night. No matter how hard she tried, Slughorn wouldn’t take no for an answer and she was almost forced to make an appearance at the Slugclub.

Lily was so excited, running through their dorm as she got ready.

Marlene sulked a bit, folding her arms across her chest. She was quiet enough for Lily not to hear, but Y/N heard her clear as day. “That’s not fair. I want to be invited. I want to feel special too.”

“You’re more than special,” Dorcas cut in, rubbing a hand up and down her shoulder. “You’re a star, baby.”

Y/N ignored them, fiddling with a small tube of eyeliner, watching Lily excitedly going through her closest.

Luckily, not only would Lily be there, but Remus, most likely Regulus — however, she doubted they would be able to interact — and funnily enough, James was invited too.

Inside the actual party was decent, a lot better than she expected. There were still the uptight students who thought they were above others, or the Purebloods that judged her when she walked into the room, but it was bearable.

Y/N chuckled as she watched Remus throwback drink after drink, sneakily stealing a few alcoholic beverages meant for the adults. His movements were so discreet that nobody ever suspected him.

She covered her smile behind her glass.

“Hi. It’s been awhile.”

Y/N turned around, and there, Aldrich McLaggen stood wearing a little smile. He trimmed his blond hair to sweep nicely and his cheekbones hallowed out.

“It has. And congratulations, I heard you’re on the Quidditch team.”

“Yes! Chaser - taking over Bell’s position.”

“So… How are you?”

If it was even possible, Aldrich’s smile grew wide. “I’ll be a lot better if I saw your smile tonight?”

She didn’t smile; unimpressed and decided to sip on her drink.

“Yeah,” Aldrich began again, “Didn’t think that would work.”

“A pretty big miss.” She grumbled.

“But I’m getting to know how to impress you in the future.”

Y/N turned to side-eye him. “Hmm? How?”

“How about -” And out of nowhere, he reached behind her ear and pulled out a red rose, handing it to her. Much like a Muggle magician.

She felt a coy smile tug at her lips and forced it down, but failed. “Nice one.”

“Everyone! Please come down and sit!” Slughorn announced, calling to all the students.

He beamed, flashing his teeth. “Don’t hide away again. I’d love to see you again.”

She tilted her head at him, tilting her glass before making her way to find her spot at the table.

The girl beside her had frizzy light brown hair and large glasses that looked like they were from an animated children’s television program. She was draped in a colourful shawl.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

But the other young witch smiled brightly, although never quite meeting her eyes as she outstretched her hand. “Sybill Trelawney.”

She shook Sybill’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

But then Y/N took a good look at her and realized, “We’re in the same charms class, right?”

Sybill nodded her head, fingers tapping rapidly on the table. “For two years now. I sit a row behind you. And by the way, you're very pretty.”

She was taken back, a genuine smile spreading over her lips. “Thank you, you look lovely too! I adore your glasses.”

A light blush spread across Sybill’s face, her hand brushing against her glasses. Her eyes peered up for a second before averting her gaze. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, already enjoying Sybill’s presence.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

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sweetea-rosey · 3 years

Note

Ooo hi I saw you take requests? I have a writing request if you want to :))

So here is my idea:

Remus has a notebook given to him by the other sides to write his thoughts down in. See, Remus has clear impulse control problems so this notebook of for him to write his thoughts down instead of just doing and saying whatever comes to mind. It gives him a chance to think about it. Sometimes, maybe like once a week give or take a few days one of the other sides will sit down with him and read his thoughts with him just to make him feel validated and heard. Well this particular time one of the sides (of your choice) sat down with the notebook and found some rather interesting things.

Now, you can take this one of two ways (it’s really all up to you!)- You can make this something angsty (hurt comfort), or you can make it something shippy! It can be any Remus ship you want but I personally am more partial to intrulogical hehe 💙💚

Take your time and have fun with it!! Have a good day :)

Ah! Ty for the request! I started writing it on the day you submitted it, but Tumblr deleted it after a while of not saving :') so now my motivation to do this is deterred

Anyway, this'll be my first time not writing something Roman centric =w=""

Remus held the book in his hands. He remembered the day Roman gave it to him, when he risked traveling into the dark scape because he knew his brother needed this. Because he did, too.

An outlet.

A place for his monstrosities to be, other than inside his head, allowed to torture him to their best abilities. The illusions his mind creates are no longer just in his eyes. It's no longer insanity- it's creativity. The journal isn't the first one. But he and Roman make sure to keep eachother stocked up; they get filled rather quickly. The Imagination holds an entire library dedicated to their filled journals from over the years.

The journals have also become sort of diaries to them. So, imagine what were to happen if one of them got lost? The possibility of their secrets being seen by unbidden eyes.

Remus burst into Roman's room, "Ro!"

Roman jumped from his spot at his desk, "Jeez- ! What is it?"

Oddly, for Remus, he seemed almost anxious, "Have you seen my latest journal?"

Ah, that explains it. Roman understands the severity of losing something that holds your private thoughts. He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face Remus better, "No, I haven't. Is it missing?"

Remus nodded, unable to speak through the panic coursing through his veins, the hormone mixing with the feeling of the plasma we call blood rushing through veins and arteries, rest in his heart, which is thumping with vigor, the- Remus shook himself. The imagery coming on its own with nothing to do with it, "Thoughts, thoughts thoughts, thoughts, blood, where? Everywhere? It is me, I am thoughts and blood and gore and death and slime, and..."

Roman pulled his brother in, the physical touch of his second half grounding him, finally balanced out with his brother there to help him.

"Breathe, Ree...I get it...I'll help you look for it, okay? Do you have any spare journals?"

Remus shook his head. He had just started this one, he was too busy brainstorming on the pages to remember to restock.

"Okay, do you have the focus to conjur any, right now?"

Remus shook his head again. No no, of course not! He's too focused on the one that's missing!

"Alright, that's okay, Ree. I get it. Here, use this for now," As Roman spoke, he pressed a plain black book in the unstable man's hands, "Get some thoughts out on that, then we can start looking, okay?"

Instead of answering, he made the rest of the way into the prince's room and started letting the thoughts out.

"Feel better?"

Remus let out a breath and nodded, "A lot, thanks. Can we go look, now?"

"Of course, let's go."

It took hours. The sun was gone in Thomas' living room and they were still tearing the place apart, searching absolutely everywhere. Remus was tempted to just dismantle the mind palace and look through the stuff that gets left behind. The fear was boiling in his gut in the ocean of acid.

"What if we don't find it? My blood, sweat, and tears went into that book! Pieces of my heart are in there, I can't lose it, what if someone else finds it and reads it?"

Roman shuddered, because he didn't believe that Remus was being metaphorical, "I understand the severity of the situation, Ree. We should go look in the Lightside, now..."

Remus shrugged as much as his slumped posture will allow, "Sure..."

"We'll find it, Ree..."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If I lose it? Fine, I have others, I can start a new one. I'm scared of someone else finding it and reading it... there's things in there I don't want others seeing..."

"I get it, you know I do. We'll get it back before anyone else can even know it exists, alright?"

Remus just shrugged off his comforting hand, "Stupid prince, always making promises you don't even know if you can keep. Don't do that to yourself and don't do it to me. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that shit."

Roman recoiled, almost physically, "Sometime, people just need reassurance."

"And then, when you're wrong? I know you don't like breaking promises, Princey."

"...Then hopefully we'll figure it out."

"You're such a fucking optimist, it's gross."

Roman rolled his eyes, "I'm helping you look, be nice, you doofus."

"Oh wow, "doofus", I'm so offended," Remus said without much effort.

Roman ignored him.

"It's not HERE!" Remus screamed, a pot crashing through the wall.

Roman manged to muffle the noise and quickly put it back together, "We will, this was only the first room in the Lightside. You need to calm down."

"I can't! What if someone else already found it and read it? What if they hate me? What if they never wanna talk to me again because nothing in there makes sense, what-"

Roman caught his hands, "Woah! Woah...Remus, when did you start caring so much about what the others think of you?"

"I don't!"

"But...-"

"I don't care about what Logan and the other think of me."

"Of what...Logan and the...? Remus...is this about Logan?"

Remus hesitated just long enough.

"Oh great Aphrodite, it is..."

"Aphro-? NO! No, I don't!"

"Remus, is there something about Logan on that book?"

Remus said fuck it in his mind and sighed, "Yes... I...some fantasies...that he might not approve of..."

"Oh, Remus..."

"What if he finds out, and he...? He just doesn't...?"

Roman hit his brother on the head, "This is why you're a doofus. It doesn't matter if he finds it, you have nothing to worry about."

Remus rolled his eyes. Literally. He rolled them like dice and Roman had to look away, but got the message.

"How would you know?"

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes (PROPERLY).

"I'm leaving you to figure that out. But, I do."

"Sure. Whatever. Asshole."

Roman moved on to look in the next room.

A flash of green leaped onto him and he was tumbling over, the item in his hands flying out.

"Remus!"

The man scrambled over and snatched the book up, "Did you read it?"

"I- no, Remus what is it?"

"It's mine. Roman, I found it!"

Roman? Since when do those two talk? But, as Remus said, Roman walked in.

"Oh, thank Hades."

"Logan had it."

Roman sucked in a breath, "Did he read it?"

Remus shook his head, relief is a weird expression on the man's face.

Logan wouldn't mind seeing it more.

"What is this about?"

Roman took the liberty of answering, "The book is Remus' and it's private. Reading it would be invasive."

"Oh, my apologies, then. But, I had just picked it up, it was left over from Remus' running through the room and into the Imagination, along with some other debris I cleaned up."

"It's alright, nerd."

Logan's gaze lingered on Remus a bit, before he bid his farewells, reminded Roman of some work he needs to do by Friday, then left.

"Y'know," Roman said as they turned to walk back, "You could tell him how you feel."

Remus scoffed, "I'm not self destructive, like you, RoRo."

Ignoring Remus' jabs is difficult for the prince, nevertheless, "And do, pray tell, how it's self destructive?"

"Because he'll say no and that will hurt. I don't like when things actually hurt. I'm not risking him hating me even more."

"Woah, woah, he doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't he? I'm chaotic, irrational, vile, ik everything he fights to keep under control."

Roman digested this and thought hard on how best to explain this, "But that's exactly why you two are perfect for each other. You help him let loose when he's being a stick in the mud and he helps you keep in control of yourself and stay organized.

"You're delusional. He doesn't like me, he can't Ro. It goes against our very beings! Go ahead and fool yourself, but you can't do that to me. That's just cruel." Remus disappeared and Roman sighed as he tried to brush off his brother's words.

As the embodiment of romance, he thinks he'd know when a couple will work out or not. How will he convince his brother and Logan of that? He supposes he can't blame them for that, who would listen to the love advice of someone who loves someone that loves someone else? Kinda hypocritical.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Remus! Would calm down? Just listen to me!"

"No! You're a liar and I hate you! Do you want me to get hurt? You're an asshole you good for nothing prince!" He screamed. Why won't his brother let this go? Doesn't he see that everyone is better this way?

"Fine! You're right! Is that what you want to hear? Call me an asshole, call me stupid, call me evil or whatever! But I'm not wrong! Why don't you believe me? Ha! Why am I trying to reason with the self proclaimed unreasonable?"

Remus looked down from his perch on the guillotine, "Wait, RoRo-!" But he was gone.

"Fuck."

He rushed out, hoping to Loki that he didn't do too much damage.

"Roman!"

But he found who he wants looking for.

"Why are you screaming in the middle of the common room?" Came that cool and sexy voice.

"Looking for my brother, duh."

"Funny, I just spoke to him."

"Where'd he go?"

"Not sure, but he told me to stop being a robotic fake and confess to you."

"He- ? ROMAN!" Remus summoned a hammer and maybe there's a new hole in the wall.

"He was right, surprisingly."

Remus was not expecting that, "Come again?"

"I have noticed, over the course of our interactions, that I have developed feelings that I didn't recognized until Roman brought them to my attention. Remus...I have romantic feelings for you."

And it was the last casual and calculated confession Remus ever heard. He imagined something with ropes. But it was the best thing he ever heard. He didn't expect to be crying.

"Remus?"

"I like you, too..."

Logan brightened and stood up, his heart beating unnaturally, yet pleasently, as he moved closer, "Then... perhaps we...?"

But before he could finish, Remus pulled him in and there was no need for words.

Part 2 with what happened with Roman afterwards?

Ty so much for the request and I apologies for the long wait.

@fireflyjunkie

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