"it is the strangest thing..."

SPEAKER piece inspired by SAYER - Episode 43 - This Fear

To Cry Uncle

🐦‍⬛ Alright, alright, let's get this show on the road 🐦‍⬛

Does Two of us make a Murder of Crows? … Or an Unkindness of Ravens?

BAM!!

The door slammed open, rattling the attic from its impact. Scattered papers shook, and even the inky letters spilled onto them seemed to tremble too.

A man in a top hat and feathered cape barreled in. From her writing desk, a girl cloaked in the same sleek, dark feathers bristled and set down her quill.

"U-Uncle?! Don't scare me like that," Raven gently chided him. "You could have at the very least considered knocking before barging in unannounced."

It was something which the headmaster of Night Raven College made a habit to do. Lectures, labs—he arrived whenever he pleased, then disappeared just as quickly. Some called him a whimsical genius (well, usually it came from his own mouth), but most called him mad and unpredictable.

But today he wore a frown instead of a smile, was less bird-like and more pitiable kitten drenched in the rain. Dragging out a sigh and a sob, Crowley threw his arms around Raven. His talons dug into his mark, the other hand woefully stroking her hair—hair which would have dampened if he had released any real tears.

"Raven-kun!!" he cried out, “Oh, it’s awful! Dreadful! The most preposterous thing happened to me on my morning stroll. You’ll hear me out, won’t you, my dear niece?”

Awful? Dreadful? Preposterous? More awful, dreadful, and preposterous than the slew of Overblots that had plagued their once-peaceful academy? She had her doubts, but entertained him nevertheless.

"… Alright, what has got you so out of sorts?" Raven asked wearily. (Her question came out muffled, on account of being pressed against her guardian’s chest.) She had learned to be patient with him, but prepared for the catastrophizing.

Perhaps the cafeteria ran out of his favorite meat pies. He’s been looking forward to that all week.

“I found a gaggle of students skipping class!” Crowley burst out, breaking their hug. Exaggerated distress turned his voice into a trill. “On Main Street, of all places! Before the very eyes of the most venerable Great Seven! They would surely be heartbroken to know that the children of today sullied the good name of Night Raven College!”

Raven tried to nod understandingly and pat his back. Quiet methods of coaxing him to let it all out

“Of course, I did my due diligence as headmaster of this esteemed institution and confronted the boys at once,” Crowley continued—puffing with a pinch of pride at the mention of his status before soon deflating. “Ooh, but I was so rudely rebuked!! The students ignored my very reasonable plea to return to class, then proceeded to ignore or insult me—ME!! Their beloved headmaster!

"Belittled and bullied by my very own pupils…" He sniffed loudly. "It’s a cruel fate, but someone has to discipline ignorant, misbehaving children--and so it fell upon my shoulders! I unleashed my Lash of Love upon them and deposited the hooligans back in Professor Trein's lecture!"

"You did what you could to resolve the situation, Uncle," Raven replied, her words carefully stroking his ego. "You are ever so magnanimous."

"I am, aren't I!" Crowley agreed. "Alas, a teacher's work is thankless! What has come of the younger generation?! And what have I done to deserve this kind of treatment? All I've ever done is work tirelessly to ensure that our Night Raven College provides high-quality education!"

"Well... You don't exactly command authority with your attitude or how you carry yourself. Truly, when most picture the archetype of a 'headmaster of an arcane academy', they tend to imagine someone... different. If you want to be perceived differently, it may help to present new parts of yourself to the students."

Like maybe actually doing your job instead of delegating tasks to teenagers and having them solve all your problems..

"Show them your strengths and good points," Raven suggested, "traits worthy of respect."

Crowley's beady, golden eyes suddenly lit up. They bore into Raven from the pitch-black holes in his mask.

"That’s it!" he declared, perking up. “If I’m to garner respect, I ought to try and demonstrate the true breadth of my kindness. Perhaps then they will take note of the power hierarchy and bend an ear to my commands!”

“Er, that’s not exactly what I meant…”

Crowley swept away from her, beginning to pace back and forth. A finger curled at his chin, his mind set in deep contemplation.

“The issue now is, how will I appear approachable to begin with? My visage is far too grand to tamp down, and I’m afraid my decades of wisdom are useless against accusations of being ‘old’ and ‘out of touch’!!“

Those comments really hit him hard, huh…

“Have you considered taking up a hobby instead of fixating on public opinion? It just may help you clear your thoughts.” Raven gestured at her desk. “I myself partake in writing as an outlet.”

In an instant, the headmaster was at her side. He nosily peered over his niece, practically leering down at the contents of her papers.

Stories that started with Once upon a times and then diverged, walking along a multitude of paths to endings yet to be determined. Heroes and villains and the people that supported them, coming together in grand casts. New places, new experiences, new feelings.

Connections, ways of bridging the gap between hearts.

“H-Hey…! I never said you could look. These are private projects,” Raven protested, hurrying to cover up her scripts.

Too late. A giddy shine had already risen to the headmaster’s eyes.

Oh no. I know that look!

“Dearest Raven,” Crowley cooed, a clawed hand finding its way onto her shoulder, “how generous of you to lend your assistance to your sad old uncle! Fufufu, it appears as though the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!"

"What are you on about now?" It slowly dawned on her, and she paled. “Don’t tell me…”

"This is the solution for my... I mean, our predicament!" Crowley lifted a paper and a waved it around like a triumphant flag. “Written word has the power to influence. With your help, we can conduct an interview, spread stories of my great kindness and power, sway the consensus!”

Ah, a coordinated PR strategy. Raven frowned. His usual fallback.

The trick would work on most people beyond the campus grounds, but not on the students within. Not when there was already a narrative in place: the tale of the carefree, bumbling, useless man at the helm of the school. Pitiable, easily kicked around. And there was some truth to it--truth that could only be twisted so far before it fell into the realm of outright fantasy.

Most did not realize how truly frightening a man cloaked by the shadows could be.

“I understand wanting to spruce up your image, but there is only so much that can do for you. People will believe what they want to believe, regardless of what new information is presented to them."

Raven sighed, picking her quill back up and dipping it in an inkwell. Rich black fluid, darker than the darkest night, rose up into the nib. She offered the writing implement to her guardian, who stared at it in confusion.

"If you want their views on you to change, that is something you will have to earn for yourself. The words must come straight from its source and be genuine."

“Raven-kun…”

She pressed the quill into Crowley’s palm.

From here on out, the story is up to you.

Asano/F!Darling: Unconventional Methods (VI)

TW: Noncon/dubcon, unhealthy power dynamic, unhealthy relationship, abuse of authority, spanking

____ didn't mind Asano's smaller outside assignments that much, especially compared to that first lesson. She knew when they would come since he only ever sent them during her breaks or outside of work hours, and having time to write a response was less stressful than being put on the spot and having to look at him. Still...Asano's questions and requests were enough to make her squirm in her seat even when they weren't sexual.

"How many partners have you had, including the ex-boyfriend you mentioned? Were you sexually active with them as well?"

"Have you always lived on your own? Do you ever feel a desire to live with someone or feel intense loneliness at home?"

"Have you ever had a near-death experience?"

"Send a photo of the toy you mentioned using. Describe its function and how often you use it each week."

"Was your family life turbulent growing up?"

"Have you ever been struck during a sexual encounter (eg. Slapping, spanking, scratching) or experienced pain (eg. hair-pulling, biting)? If so, describe the action and how you responded to it."

That last one made her feel especially worried. She'd never done anything rougher than maybe getting her hair pulled and being called a cute little slut by her ex whenever he'd talk dirty to her. And compared to Asano, a black belt who famously defeated his teacher on his third day of class, her ex wasn't much of a fighter.

____ sighed and tried to focus on the papers she was supposed to be grading in 1A's classroom while the instructor taught the students. Principal Asano was just trying to make her uncomfortable by asking her, and probably by making her wonder if he really was planning on hurting her like that during one of his lessons. Speaking of which...it had been one week since her third lesson. The last two weren't as sexual as the first, but they were just as stressful. The second lesson was almost like a regular lecture, aside from the fact that she'd been completely nude the entire time. Asano had given her a small stack of education and psychology textbooks for her to annotate and study in his office while he watched her. Any time she moved the book up or hunched over the small table he'd provided for her to hide her breasts, he'd told her to sit up straight and she reluctantly obeyed.

The third lesson had involved her "shadowing" him while he did his own work; thankfully she got to keep her clothes on for this one, but she spent the entire time in his lap. Occasionally his hands would wander between her thighs to ghost against her panties, and eventually she noticed how he was subtly rocking his hips every so often while a slight bulge nudged her backside. It didn't seem to faze him in the slightest though; whenever he'd show her one of the documents he was working on or made a phonecall, his voice didn't seem tense or strained at all while she sat in his lap.

She understood why he needed to make her so uncomfortable, and he'd patiently explained to her more than once that her personal inexperience was why so many of these lessons were sexual--you're least comfortable when trying something new. But it still felt so wrong to do things like this, even if her boss explicitly said it was okay. Is that why she didn't want to ask any of her coworkers for advice or whether they thought this was an appropriate teaching method? Asano hadn't ever said to keep it secret, after all. Still...she'd have to admit that she and Asano had done all of these things together--on campus, in his office! Even if it was to make her a better teacher--and even if the other faculty members believed that--she could never look them in the eye ever again. ____'s face flushed with heat and she hurriedly made her way down the hall to Asano's office; maybe after this lesson she could ask him if she should discuss his program with any of the other teachers.

____ knocked at Asano's door and waited for him to reply. "Come in." Immediately she stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it from the inside; now that she'd had multiple lessons in his office, she had learned the routine for the start of his lessons. Asano was at his desk and peering at the documents in his hand. "Sit." He hadn't even looked up from his papers.

____ eagerly walked to the chair in front of his desk and sat with her legs crossed. "Um, sir," she began, "Before we start, I wanted to--"

"We've already started today's lesson," Asano interrupted, his voice soft but firm and commanding as ever. "Once we've finished, you can talk to me about your concerns."

____ pressed her lips together in a line and tried not to sound too bothered by him dismissing her so quickly. "What will today's lesson involve?" She prayed over and over in her mind: nothing sexual, nothing sexual, nothing sexual...

Asano finally glanced up from his papers to look her over, and ____ tried her best not to meet his gaze. "I want to see how well you've studied the books I lent to you," he said. "Nothing too exhaustive, just a cursory review with an oral quiz." He moved his seat back and rested his arms on either side of the chair. "Put yourself on my lap, facing down on your stomach."

____ hesitantly rose up and moved around the desk to lay down the way Asano had ordered. The arms of the chair pushed against her chest and upper thighs, but not enough to be anything more than mildly cumbersome. She flinched slightly when she felt his hand move to pull up the bottom of her skirt and expose her rear end to the cool air of his office. "S-sir?"

Asano moved one hand to rest over her back while the other cupped the soft flesh of her backside. "For every question you're unable to answer, you'll get a penalty." He squeezed her ass gently and felt ____ squirm as he toyed with her. "I'll guide you to a proper answer until you manage to discover it for yourself. First: Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences is not a theory applied to most schools in Japan. Tell me why you think that is."

____ shifted in her seat. Were all the questions going to be this open-ended? "Ah...L-let me see," she murmured. It was difficult to think straight when you were upside down and your boss was groping your ass. "Well, Gardner's theory is...u-um, it comes from a Western perspective of intelligence? Kunugigaoka's teaching methods are based heavily off of, of collectivism and group efforts being important. So it may not be applicable here?"

Asano pursed his lips. "Is collectivism solely an Eastern value? Not to mention, you're forgetting one of the cornerstones of our teaching methods is behaviorism--a concept theorized in Europe and the United States."

"Oh. That's true," ____ admitted. "I'm sorry, Asano-sa--"

A sudden smack against her ass startled her followed by a stinging pain made her tear up immediately. She'd never been hit this hard before, and she immediately felt a lump in her throat as she started to cry. "Apologize by considering a better answer," Asano said coldly. "Think carefully about how Gardner's theory contrasts with different policies and standards in Japan."

____ sniffled and cried as he had spoken, and continued to after he'd told her to try again. 'I...u-um, let me...I...A-Asano-san, I..." She tried to think about the question, she really did. "I've never been spanked before, th-this really hurts..."

Asano gently rubbed the place he'd struck her and she let out a small whine; even him comforting her hurt. "It's a new experience, and an effective one," he said. "You're more likely to remember and retain what I say with a physical trigger." He squeezed her ass and felt her squirm again. "Try again."

____ bit the inside of her cheek and tried to ignore the sting and the heat coming from her skin. "Um. Gardner's theories...they imply that each type of intelligence is...a student with one strength does better with a different type of learning method, and a student with a different one would do better with an-another one," she rambled. "But school exams only test the ability to retain a-and apply information. A...a student with high kinetic intelligence, they might struggle on a written exam be-because it tests a different set of skills. R-right?" She looked up at Asano as best as she could for a sign that she had given the right answer.

Asano smiled and tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. "A much better answer," he confirmed. "A school setting emphasizes and values different types of intelligence over others, and so does society as a whole." Asano squeezed and played with her upper thigh, and ____ felt his fingers coming closer and closer to between her legs until he was pressing against her clothed slit. "At Kunugigaoka however, I've tried to incorporate the needs of students who aren't gifted with the natural intelligence that exams cover. Even if a student's resistant to conventional teaching and study methods, I've found that a forceful approach can work through that rigidity." He smirked and felt ____ squeeze her thighs around his hand as a he played with her clit. "Next question."

____ tried to gather her thoughts as best as she could while being toyed with over Asano's knee. Shouldn't she be answering these questions while NOT being so distracted? How is she supposed to give a proper response when he's touching her and groping her like this? "S-sir, I understand the purpose of being spanked--um, struck? Learning with a physical trigger. But it's distracting me and I can't focus on what I've studied..."

Asano nodded and slipped some of his fingers past her underwear, pulling them down to press directly against her cunt. She gasped through her nose and felt a wave of shame after she felt her body clench around his fingertips. "That's the point," Asano explained patiently. "If you've studied properly then you should be able to recall information easily, even under stress." He could feel a small bit of lubrication around her entrance making it easier to slip the tip of his middle finger inside. "You did study, didn't you?"

"Y-yes," ____ insisted. "I just didn't think it would be this...ah, this..." She trailed off and whimpered at the feeling of his finger rubbing against a sensitive spot; she didn't even realize that she had started to rock her hips back and forth in time with his hand. "Sir, please!"

Asano narrowed his eyes at ____ as he continued to play with her with one hand. He knew she wasn't experienced with this kind of stimulation, but that wasn't any excuse to act so childishly. "Please? Please do what? I can't stop just because you're uncomfortable, you know that. Now, for the next question. The study conducted on adolescents aged 12 and 13 is referenced often in chapter 3 of the textbook on memory I sent you. The two students in the study failed to keep up with the lessons during the experiment and suffered nervous breakdowns from the strain of the coursework. Why do the authors frame this as something positive?"

____ tried to remember the article he was asking about, but her thoughts were clouded and scattered as she felt a creeping feeling of pleasure and tension in her core. What was that article about? Not memory, that was the one in chapter 2...No, it was about the correlation between classroom size, curriculum density, and...and short class periods? "Ah...The students who had breakdowns," she started, not even sure of what she was trying to say. "The authors theorized it was b-because the intensity of the material being covered and the short--ooh...short class periods. U-um, the teaching method focused on parallel thinking and had them all studying multiple things at the same t-time, and the two students couldn't take...couldn't take it anymore..."

____ let out a frustrated groan and tried to move her hips away from Asano's hand. "Please, I can't," she insisted. "I can't do both at the same time, I can't think when you--"

Asano pulled her hips back into place and quickly covered her mouth with one hand before slapping her ass again. She screamed and started to sob against the palm keeping her somewhat quiet. "You aren't answering the question, you're re-stating it," he said irritably. "Not only that, but you're interrupting the lesson by moving away like that." He raised his hand again and ____ instinctively tried to move out of the way and tried to reach up and block him from hitting her; his eyes darkened and in one swift movement, he pushed her over against the desk and gripped her wrists behind her back while keeping his other hand on her mouth.

"You've disrupted my lesson twice now," he said icily. "If you're so eager to act like an unruly child and throw a tantrum, I'm more than happy to put it on hold to correct this." He dug his nails into the flesh of her wrists and she screamed again. "I'm going to let go of your wrists, and you're going to keep your hands on this desk until I tell you to put then behind your back. Do you understand?"

____ clenched her fists and tried her best to nod while her head was turned to the side against his desk while she continued to cry. This already hurt so much, and she couldn't imagine what he'd do if she tried to run out of the room or fight back. "Mm...Mhh-mm." She sniffled and choked back some of her sobs to try and respond. Asano, true to his word, let go of her wrists and she immediately placed them on the edge of the desk. Her knuckles lightened as she gripped the wood as hard as possible, and the ache of her hands distracted her from the sting of her lower thighs and the strain on her neck and upper body being pressed against his desk.

After a few seconds, she felt his hand take one of her wrists; a strip of cloth was in his hand, and she felt it brush against her own skin. "Behind your back," he ordered. ____ complied and put her hands together again. She felt the silk of Asano's tie wrap around her and tighten until it was firmly keeping her wrists bound. He took her by the crook of her arm and moved his other hand to let her breathe more easily through her nose while he kept her mouth covered. "Back in the chair."

Soon she was back in his lap, though this time her hands were in an uncomfortable raised position thanks to his necktie. "Obviously you're not able to continue with the quiz I had in mind today," Asano said, sighing in disappointment. "Still, I'm not going to cut our lesson short just because of your outburst." ____ felt a few more tears well up at just how upset and disappointed he sounded in her. She didn't want to be a brat. She didn't want to disrupt his lesson, but she just couldn't think straight. "Instead, we'll be reviewing something much more elementary to match your attitude." Her heart sank as she felt his hand rest on the curve of her ass again. "The two of us are going to count. I think that ten should be high enough."

____ caught a glimpse of his hand as he raised it up and bit her lower lip to try and steel herself before he spanked her again. The harsh slap of skin against skin followed by a new rush of aching pain left her sobbing pathetically underneath him. His voice was soft and eerily cheery as he brushed a few fingers over where he'd hit her. "One."

Slap. "Two."

Slap. "Three."

____ heard the rush of blood roaring in her ears until she could hear nothing else, not even the spankings or her own crying. It sounded so far away, just like Asano's voice. "Four...five..."

The breaks in between each spanking grew longer and longer, and Asano could hear her wails become less and less loud and obnoxious until they died down to short whimpers after each slap. Her lips were slightly parted behind his hand, but she wasn't pouting and wincing anymore; it seemed that she'd spent all of her energy and her tantrum had finally subsided. He peered down at her slightly-tilted head and noted the glazed-over look in her visibly reddened eyes as she stared off into space. Dissociation was a common side effect when it came to his students, a clear sign that they were at their limit and--even better--their minds were much easier to mould now that their subconscious was preoccupied elsewhere. For ____ in particular, it was a key step in training her. Right now she had learned she couldn't resist him, and with the right positive and negative reinforcement she'd learn to love his guiding hand.

"Six." Smack.

"Mm..."

"Seven." Smack.

"Mmm."

An impulsive part of him, specifically the part responsible for the slight tent in his pants as he watched her stare blankly and become more and more compliant and complacent with each strike. She clearly wasn't cut out to teach, not with how well she fit in his lap and how satisfying it was to hear her soft moans. He imagined how much better it would be to see her transition from resistant and defiant, to blank and defeated, and finally to eager and adoring once he'd finally finished grooming her into his ideal "protégé."

"Eight...Nine...Ten."

A Riddler Presents: The ABC’s Of Discovering A Lifestyle Prospect

This morning as I thought about what I had to get done in my day and was putting tasks into my calendar, my brain had an “oh shiny thing” moment and snapped to the original Batman TV series and how fun it would be to take an old suit and turn it into the Riddler’s suit for Halloween. Yes, I know my brain moves in weird ways but I like its uniqueness. Anyway, the Riddler made me think about questions that a submissive should ask or things to discover about a dominant during the fun conversations during the mating dance. I debated on working on a top ten list of questions but that clearly is not enough plus it did not seem challenging enough for my caffeinated brain. To add an element of challenge and to cap the number of questions, I thought I would fall back on my ABC’s. I have decided to share my ABC’s of things a submissive should discover about prospective dominant.

A for Aftercare. It is important to find out how the d-type approaches aftercare and the various things they have done in their past.

B for Bondage. Discover if they are into restraining their partner as well as how they have in the past. There are so many skills with bondage that need to be learned to keep their partner safe and it is important to discover if the dominant has invested in or is willing to invest in learning them.

C for Connection. There is more to a lifestyle relationship than floggers and fetishes, therefore it is important to discover if you are both able to connect as people. Put aside your BDSM checklist so you can check your connection as people.

D for Disasters. Everyone has dating disasters in their past, okay maybe not everyone. I suppose there could be some young twenty-something folks reading this who have yet to have a relationship turn into a tornado but most people have survived a few Titanic dating disasters. Discover what your prospective’s shipwrecks have been and listen closely because if these sinkings have always been their ex’s fault, be wary.

E for Education. How has this dominant learned about the lifestyle and how are they planning to continue their education? There is always something to learn about the lifestyle, so even the most experienced d-type still needs to be learning and growing.

F for Fuckery. Intimacy is an important part of any relationship and you need to discover if you are on the same page when it comes to bow-chicka-wow-wow.

G for Growth. One of the things I believe a dominant should do is lead their partner and the relationship to grow stronger over time. Ask what methods they have employed in the past and would use going forward.

H for History. How did this potential partner get to where they are in life and the lifestyle?

I for Intelligence. The dominant you are in discussions with should challenge your mind and you should also challenge his, so do you mentally push each other to be better, smart, and more intelligent together?

J for Just For Laughs. Do they make you laugh? Life is going to kill you, so why would you spend your remaining time here with someone who did not make you laugh.

K for Kindness. One of the subtle things that is typically a clue if someone is a good person or a self-centered asshat is how they treat others. So observe, listen, and take note of how they treat their family, friends, and strangers.

L for Love. I know this seems like a no brainer but there are people in the lifestyle who are not looking for a loving relationship but more of a friendship with kink involved. So it is important to discover is the prospect is looking for love or a kinktastic friendship.

M for Marriage. This reminds me of the song Love and Marriage sung by Frank Sinatra but in today’s online world, you have to discover if the prospect is truly single or married/cheating plus a discussion needs to be held to find out if both of your long term goals are on the same page for the relationship.

N for No. A submissive has the right to say no at any time and for any reason. Period end of story! Often at the start of the dating dance submissives will notice little things from the dominant prospect. They might say can you do this for me or would you do me a favor and do XYZ. These requests are most often innocent and I would imagine on some level it is the d-type probing how the submissive response to ‘direction’. So test the dominant right back and say no for no other reason than to see how they handle it.

O for Openness. Most of us do not live this lifestyle in public, with all of our friends and family knowing but it is important to find out just how open the dominant is with the lifestyle and how their level of openness fits with yours. If they do not mesh, it will cause conflicts later.

P for Positivity. Positivity creates more positivity and happiness. So honestly assess if the d-type is bringing positivity to you daily or leaching yours away.

Q for Questions. How does the dominant respond when you ask why they feel/think a certain way. It goes right along with testing them with a ‘no’.

R for Religion. I know you might be wondering what religion has to do with a lifestyle relationship but religion is right up there with politics as reasons why partnerships can fall apart. Discuss the subjects of religion and politics to find out if you have common ground together.

S for Structure. What kind of structure will your prospect want to implement? Do they use rules, guidelines, or not? How do they correct mistakes/punish? Listen carefully here because you can detect hints of the punisher twattwaffle who wants to use ‘structure’ as just an excuse to push down a submissive rather than lift up.

T for Time. Are they willing to invest the time to earn your submission? Find out how long they had dated past partners, how long it took before their past partners went from dating to submissive and be very wary of someone who has moved to this quickly in their past partnerships.

U for Underpants, Captain Underpants that is. I have jokingly called a couple of dumbinats Captain Underpants because of the weird rules they have tried to put in place for their submissive’s underthings. Listen and take note of rules or expectations the d-type implemented in past relationships. If you get goofy underpants rules (like no wearing them during ‘shark week’) excuse yourself.

V for Vanilla. One of the important things to discover for both dominant and submissive is how they want to blend the real, vanilla world with the lifestyle. Submissives always should learn how a dominant has balanced the ordinary life with the lifestyle and make sure their views mesh with yours.

W for Work. Relationships require work and sometimes hard work, so is the dominant willing to invest in the work needed to make a relationship with you grow as well as work through those hard times? Consult their past history to determine if the cut and run when a storm blows in.

X for X-Rated. Do your sexual/lifestyle fantasies match up? Does your prospective dominant want to have kinktastic three or more sums with other submissives while you prefer a completely monogamous relationship? Find out if the fantasies you both have will be able to come to life together or if they go in drastically different directions.

Y for Yelling. Find out how they handle disagreements. Every couple is going to have disagreements. Are they a screamer, do they grow quiet while crawling away to hide hoping the storm blows over, morph into a passive aggressive asshat or do they remain calm and talk things out. Make sure a dominant has learned the skills required to stay calm and communicate during one of life’s storms.

Z for Zoos. Is the d-type a cat person while you own three dogs? Pets are part of the family, so do not overlook that they will part of the partnership. Make sure the relationship is not only safe and right for you but also for your pets now as well as in the future.

Thank you for giving this a read and I’m curious if you could change one of the letters, which one would change and why?

Please note, there is more than twenty-six things to discover about a possible partner and I am certain there are twenty-six better things to discover then what I have shared here today but if I failed to say this one of the friendly neighborhood internet twattwaffles would fill my inbox with asshattery.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 4

First   Previous   Next   Ao3

Note:  When italics are in quotations (“”) then Marinette is speaking French. If the italics don't have quotations, that’s people’s thoughts.

---

After patrol, Dick made his way to bed, mulling over the announcement Bruce had made at dinner. When he had seen that picture, he had wanted to join Jason on his Paris killing spree. That girl-Marinette, was it?- seemed to be in need of a better place to stay, and he was happy they could provide it to her. At the same time, he had no idea how to treat a young teenage girl! What does she like? Sports? Dresses? Both? None? He had no idea! As he lay there having a breakdown in a slight panic, he couldn’t force the image of her broken, bloody body out of his head. He wondered what kind of person that sort of assault would turn her into. He had seen greater people snap after such emotional and physical wounds. 

Meanwhile, Jason, Tim and Damian were facing similar dilemmas over the girl in question. 

Jason had no idea how to handle teenagers, especially ones that had been assaulted. Suffering through fucked-up shit like that would definitely leave you with some trauma. He thought to himself. Maybe we should ask her about her boundaries. His coping method involved wearing a red helmet and gallivanting around the rooftops of Gotham, looking for excuses to shoot people. He didn’t exactly think that was the best way to help her out. Sure, he grumbled, I’ll just walk over to her, hand her some Kevlar and a grapple before pushing her off the top of fucking Wayne Enterprises in hopes that she’ll get it right. ‘Cause that’s totally fucking healthy!

Tim on the other hand, was completely and utterly paranoid. Sure, he was definitely worried about that girl, considering that it looked like she had lost a lot of blood; but at the same time, he was worried about exposing their identities to her. Just one slip up, and she would know exactly what the Wayne family did at night. Not to mention that if they ended up getting injured, they’d have to figure out how to hide it from her. As he hacked into her school records, he noticed that she had filed several bullying complaints that had never been acknowledged, as well as a request to transfer classrooms that had been dismissed. Just how corrupt is this school?! He thought to himself as he saw how the principal-Monsieur Damocles- had bent to one girl’s every whim, just because her father was the Mayor! Abuse of power, and ignoring bullying reports? He thought to himself. This is not going to end well for them. With that, he completely launched himself into digging up every bit of dirt he could find on that school and it’s staff; completely forgetting about his original panic over being discovered.

And as for Damian, he was completely furious that there would be another person living in the Manor with them! Not to mention she had to go to Gotham Academy as well! He hadn’t even met this Marinette, and she was already proving to be a pain. 

---

As the day of their Marinette’s arrival dawned bright and clear, four members of the family waited for the arrival of their last member and guest. Bruce was slightly nervous. He had never had a girl so young stay in the Manor before, and he didn’t know how to greet her. Did he shake her hand? Smile and wave? Shake her hand then smile? Wave then shake? 

Dick, however, was full of excitement that their new guest was arriving in a couple of hours. He wondered if she knew any gymnastics, and if she would be willing to do some flexibility-related stretches and workouts with him.

All his other children were scattered throughout the city, doing various different things. Jason was up in the Manor library, reading his latest novel. Tim was in his office at WE, finishing up some paperwork he had wanted to fill out before Marinette arrived. Damian, thankfully, was at school, and wouldn’t be returning until later in the evening.

His thoughts were cut short by Tim’s arrival. As he walked into the kitchen and came back with a large mug of coffee, Jason trudged downstairs, and they all sat around in the living room continuing to work and read as they waited for Marinette and Alfred.

Half an hour later, Bruce was alerted to the gates in front of the Manor opening. They all lined up outside the house and watched as the sleek, black limo pulled up in front of the house. 

They waited patiently as Alfred got out of the car and headed to the trunk before opening it and taking out a suitcase, and what looked like a foldable wheelchair. The four of them were confused. Why would she need a wheelchair? Surely her classmates hadn’t injured her that badly? Their thoughts were cut off by Alfred opening the back door on the opposite side of the car. He bent down and proceeded to open the wheelchair, before wheeling it around to face the family. When they caught their first glimpse of their guest, they were absolutely floored.

They had all seen many worse injuries during their nightly patrols, and several injured children years younger than her, but when they saw Marinette, they were shocked into silence at her battered appearance.

She was a decent height at around 5’ 4”, but compared to Bruce and Jason she was absolutely tiny. She had several dark purple-blue bruises that contrasted sharply with her pale skin as well as an angry gash covered in stitches on her forehead. She also sported a clunky cast and a thick brace on her leg and wrist. With her dark hair pulled into space buns, and blue eyes, as well as how small and bruised she looked, they all felt a rush of protectiveness flood through them when they saw her. 

Their silent shock was interrupted by Jason leaning over to Bruce and whispering angrily “You said her classmates did this to her?!” At his exclamation, the other three tensed in anger at the reminder that her old friends had been the ones to injure her so severely. They were snapped out of their thoughts by Marinette speaking.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Wayne! Thank you for letting me stay in your house with you! I promise I’ll do my best to not be a bother to you and your family.” Her voice was slightly rough from when she had been crying, but she spoke sweetly, and politely. At her statement, Jason jumped in “No problem Pixie Stick! The only nuisance here is the Demon Spawn, and he’s not home yet.” She blinked up at him, before her mouth twitched up into a half-smile. “Thank you, Monsieur. I’m sorry but I didn’t get your name…” she trailed off. 

“Sorry about that Sunshine, he’s Jason, I’m Dick, and the sleep deprived one is Tim.” Dick interjected. “And you don’t have to call us Monsieur, either. Just our names are fine.” 

“Oh okay. Thank you Mister Bruce, and thank you Dick! I’m Marinette, but I’m sure you knew that already. You can call me Mari if you’d like. I’m not very picky about nicknames!” She laughed. 

“Now if the young Masters are done with their introductions, I will gladly show Miss Marinette to her room.” Alfred cut in. “Thank you Monsieur Alfred, that would be wonderful.” The girl in question smiled up at him from her seat in the wheelchair before he wheeled her inside.

---

Marinette thanked Alfred as he wheeled her into her room. He mentioned that someone named “Damian” was at school, and that she would be attending school after she gets adjusted to the time difference. After he left, she opened her bag to let the Kwami out, and waited for their excited chattering to calm down. Once they had quieted, she spoke. “Hey Tikki? Do you think it was wrong to tell Alfred about the Miraculi being active in Paris?” she questioned as she fiddled with the straps on her bag. ”I was just so excited to meet another wielder that everything slipped out!” 

The Kwami was quick to reassure her. “Oh no Marinette, it's okay. SInce you are the Guardian now, you need all the help you can get. And besides, you already recognized each other’s auras, so there was no point in trying to hide it!” She flew up to her face and patted her unbruised cheek gently. 

“Oh no! I completely forgot to tell Alfred that I’m the Guardian!” She shrieked. “What if he gets mad at me for being too inexperienced?! He’ll kick me out and I’ll have to live on the streets! Then I’ll end up becoming part of the Crime Alley hierarchy, living alone in an abandoned building with a stray cat named Tommy! Tikki this is a disaster! A disaster!!” She would have continued to ramble in french, if it wasn't for the fact that Wayzz had flown up to her and reminded her that she needed to shower because she had been on an airplane and in the airport.

Several curses, near falls, and plastic cast coverings later, Marinette limped out of the shower, exhausted but clean. She quickly tied her hair onto a messy bun before changing into warm leggings (although she couldn’t fully pull one side down due to her cast) and a sweater. Gotham was cold! She let the Kwami roam around her giant room as she put her clothes into her closet. 

After settling in, she plugged in her phone and texted her friends. 

FashionableBug: Just got everything organized and took a shower. Turns out M. Wayne has four kids! I met Dick, Jason and Tim, and apparently Damian is at school. 

QueenofMean: Maribug! How dare u not text us as soon as you arrived! Ur plane landed over three hours ago! 

Snakey Boi: Chlo’s right, Mari. We were all worried bout u.

FahsionableBug: Sorry u guys. Everything was going so fast I completely 4got!

FashionableBug: Also I met a Peacock wielder!!!!!!!

You’reUnderAgreste: Really?! Buginette thats amazingggg

DragonGurl: Wonderful news indeed, Mari. They must have lots of advice for you.

QueenofMean: !!!!!! 

QueenofMean: Nettie thats awesome!!!!!!

SnakeyBoi: Thats totally great!

SnakeyBoi: Also who is it???

FashionableBug: lol Luka its Alfred their butler. Tho hes more like a grandfather

FashionableBug: Anyways, I’m going to go find the kitchen. I wanna make the Kwami some macarons!

FashionableBug: Bye!!!

DragonGurl: Bye Marinette.

You’reUnderAgreste: Bye Bugaboo!

QueenofMean: Bye Bug!

SnakeyBoi: Bye Mari!

Marinette smiled as she put her phone down. Glancing over at the Kwami flying around the room, she stretched before calling out “I’m going to see if I can bake in the kitchen. Do any of you want to join me?” Before she had even finished her sentence Tikki and Kaalki were flying over to her and nestling in her bun. Laughing at their antics, she maneuvered herself into the chair before wheeling herself down the hall. She hadn’t gone very far when she bumped into Alfred walking out of another door. "Salut, Monsieur Alfred! Would you mind showing me where the kitchen is? I was thinking of making some sweet treats for my...friends.” At her statement, Tikki and Kaalki poked their heads out of her bun to wave, before hiding again. Smiling, Alfred turned to her and spoke. “Of course Guardian. Right this way.”  Her eyes darted to meet his hesitantly. “You aren’t mad that I’m the Guardian?” Alfred paused and looked her directly in the eyes. “Miss Marinette, I am in no way questioning your capabilities as a Guardian. You are very powerful, and I have no doubt you will do an amazing job. I am simply upset over how you seem to have no Mentor or any form of Guidance to help you.” Sighing in relief, she smiled. “Well, my old Master lost his memories because he had to give up his memories after being compromised. I do have the Grimoire though, and I was also hoping you would help me as well?” She questioned, looking up at him hesitantly. As they walked into the kitchen, he bowed to her and stated “It would be my greatest honor to assist you, Great Guardian.” She laughed and thanked him before beginning to bake. 

She hummed a simple melody designed to bring about calm and peace, and soon she was happily working in her own tranquil little bubble. 

An hour later, as she was frosting the little pastries, Jason walked in, drawn by the smell of sugar and freshly baked goods. “Hey Alfred! What cooki-” he cut himself off. “Sorry Pixie Stick, I thought you were Alfred. Only he can make something worth eating in this house!” 

“Oh it’s no problem Jason, I was just making macarons. My parents own a bakery, so I’m kinda used to just baking whenever.” She laughed softly

“Damn Pixie, macarons?! You haven’t been here a day, and you’re already much nicer than all my asshole brothers!” 

“Yeah, well these are for after dinner, so no touching ‘till then!” She warned.

He sat at the counter and scrolled through his phone as she decorated the pastries. Soon enough, she had them all completed and proceeded to carefully take the tray and wheel over to the fridge. Before she could move an inch, Jason had leapt up and placed the tray in its designated spot. “Sorry Pix, but I’ll get that for ya. We don’t need you accidentally crashing or dropping these heavenly treats!” He laughed.

She crossed her arms and pouted up at him, before her mouth stretched into a wide grin. As she wheeled herself into the dining room, she swiftly turned her head and stuck her tongue out before disappearing through the door into the room beyond.

---

Dinner with the Wayne family was a rambunctious affair. Dick and Jason bantered good-naturedly over their meals as Bruce sighed tiredly in the background. Tim moved lethargically, downing giant gulps of coffee as he ate his meal. Damian apparently was studying with his friend Jon, and therefore wouldn't be eating with them. They all smiled and laughed as they talked through dinner. Marinette told them about her friends, before adding that they’d probably video call her tomorrow so they could meet the family. Bruce assured her that it was not a problem and added that he would be glad to speak with her parents. After eating, she headed up to her room to work on the outfit she had been sketching on the plane. 

She immersed herself in designing, and ended up finally going to sleep shortly after midnight. The Kwami flew over to their little nest of pillows and blankets, and she turned off the lights before drifting off to sleep. Her dreams were plagued by nightmares of looming shadows and ethereal dark butterflies destroying the world in fire. She watched in helpless terror, stuck in her Ladybug persona, unable help as the world burned. The horrific dreamscape was shattered by the sound of her phone blaring out an Akuma alarm. 

She leaped out of bed and shut off the shrill noise as she called for Tikki and Kaalki before leaping through the portal and into Paris.

She ended up in a ravaged, unrecognizable landscape covered in flames. Looks like her dream had been semi-accurate after all. The Eiffel Tower was partially melted, and fires were cropping up all over the city. The four simultaneous thuds behind her signified the arrival of her team. As one they looked upon their ravaged city and charged the Akuma.

what we could be | part one

A/N: This is a Modern AU Rowaelin fic, loosely inspired by some major events in my own life. I’m not sure how long it will be yet, or how often I’ll be able to post, but please enjoy my first fanfic ever!

Let's just… see what happens when I get back.

Those words have been running through Aelin’s mind non-stop. The bomb that Rowan dropped before his study abroad program in Wendlyn was Hiroshima to her heart. 

“I don't want you to feel obligated to stay loyal to me,” he’d said. “I don't want to make those kinds of promises yet.”

During the drive from the airport, Aelin cried. She drove straight to Lysandra’s house and cried some more. A week later, she was finally able to eat a full meal, only to throw it back up. The same with the two meals following that.

“I just don’t understand what was wrong, Lys. I thought we were on our way to a steady relationship.” Aelin sat on Lysandra’s bathroom floor, leaning against the toilet, and looked up at Lysandra who was perched on the edge of the tub.

“Nothing really went wrong, hon. I think Rowan is just being your stereotypical college guy. He met a girl who very well could be the mother of his children, which, naturally, made him panic. I mean, you remember what happened with Aedion.”

Aelin had to snort at that. Her older cousin, Aedion, is Lysandra’s fiancé. But years ago, there was a span of time when Aedion was the biggest idiot and asshole on the planet, failing to see the perfection staring him in the face. 

They had just graduated college, and Lysandra had just been accepted to the University of Adarlan to pursue her Master’s in Fashion Design. But Aedion was off to Perranth to start Basic Training for Terrasen’s Army. Needless to say, Aedion turned into a controlling bastard and tried to convince Lysandra to stay in Terrasen.

Lysandra said no, went to Adarlan, and when Aedion’s eight weeks of BT were over, they reconnected. By no means was it easy, but they made it through. The rest is history.

Aelin had to admit, Lysandra had a point. But that still doesn’t tell her what they do now. Did he say that so he can hook up with foreign chicks without guilt? Or does he think Aelin isn’t good enough?

“I know what you’re thinking, and no, it does not mean that you aren’t good enough.” Lysandra took one of her hands. “Aelin, sweetheart. I know how hard it is for you to be rejected, but look where you are right now. Ten years ago, you were barely a preteen fighting her way through the foster system--”

Aelin closed her eyes as the memories of Arobynn and Sam flooded her mind. Aelin’s parents were victims of a drive-by shooting when she was twelve years old. Aedion’s family didn’t know she existed until she had already endured five years of playing human punching bag and hiding her most prized possessions under her pants while she slept on the floor. At that point, however, it was too late for her Uncle Gavriel to claim guardianship. She only needed to last three more months in hell before she turned 18 and could attend Terrasen University.

Growing up, Aelin was always fueled by pure hope, by her fireheart, as her mother called it. But towards the end, even on her best days, she didn't think she’d make it out of there. She was forced to watch her favorite foster brother, Sam, be beaten to a pulp while another was sent to Juvie. All of her energy was put towards getting good grades and staying on Arobynn’s good side. The former was easy, she was always good at school.

The latter… Well, let’s just say there was an incident with a matchbox, Arobynn’s favorite wrist watch, and a can opener. Aelin still has a scar on her left brow from what went down after that.

“And now,” Lysandra’s voice brought her back to the present. “Now, you are a first generation college student about to graduate with a degree in Chemical Engineering. You alone got yourself a full ride to Terrasen U, and you alone have brought yourself back from the depths of hell to make something with the life the gods gave you.”

“But--”

Lysandra cut her off with a squeeze of her hands. “But nothing, Aelin. I don’t care if this man is your mate. I don’t care if you end up growing old and dying with him. You do not need him to dictate whether or not you are worth something.”

Aelin knew when to argue with Lysandra, but after those words, now was not one of those times.

Groaning, Aelin did what she does best: she got up from the floor and went on with her life. 

When classes rolled around in the third week of January, it was easy for her to forget about Rowan. She only had two more classes and her senior thesis standing between her and her Bachelor’s degree, which hopefully comes with an acceptance into the Pharmaceutical Engineering Master’s Program at Terrasen U.

Fire had always fascinated her. The bunsen burners and hot plates and mixing of chemicals spoke to her in a way that she couldn’t really put into words. But fire, while beautiful, can also destroy. So she chose a field that would allow her to burn while creating methods of healing.

It didn't hurt that her TA, Chaol Westfall, wasn’t bad to look at. Last semester, he had asked her out on a couple dates, but she was already starting to talk to Rowan. It didn’t matter now that the man in question is probably off with some bimbo from Doranelle. His loss, right?

About a month and a half into the semester, Aelin finally worked up the courage to ask Chaol to grab coffee after class. She was packing up her books to head home and get ready when the nausea hit. She haphazardly zipped her backpack and ran to the nearest restroom. As she rinsed her mouth in the sink, she mourned the chocolate cake that was now making its way to the Avery.

Her mourning quickly morphed into panic when she thought about what day it was. As she did the mental math, she ran out the door and beelined for her car. Thank the gods no police were on the road at this time because she definitely deserved a ticket for how fast she drove to the pharmacy, then to Lysandra’s.

Aelin sprinted up the steps to her front door as fast as she could and incessantly knocked on the door.

The door opened to reveal a man with his shirt half unbuttoned, hair in disarray. Aedion scowled at her. “You better have a good fucking excuse for interrupting, cousin.” He said it playfully, but Aelin didn't have the mental capacity to roll her eyes and play along.

She pushed past him and ran to the kitchen, not stopping to think about why she knows their fetishes. Lysandra is tucking her breast back into her dress when Aelin exclaims, “I’m late.”

Lysandra, bless her soul, knew exactly what she meant, and ran to her side. “How late? Did you take a test?”

Aelin let Lysandra guide her into a seat and listened to her command to breathe. “Not yet, but I picked one up on the way here.” She looked Lysandra in the eye. “I always get my period the last week of the month, no sooner, no later. I wasn’t really thinking about it last month because I was so busy planning out my thesis, but…”

“...but it’s the end of February and you still haven’t gotten it,” Lysandra finished for her. “Not to play the Mother Hen part, but were you and Rowan always safe? I thought you were on birth control?”

Aelin shook her head. “My body doesn’t handle birth control well, but Rowan always, always, used a condom. When we didn’t have any, we didn’t do it, end of story. Our relationship was so new, we didn’t even do it that much.”

“Okay, well, condoms aren’t always 100% effective, but let’s not jump to any conclusions. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, drink some water, then pee on the stick. I’ll be with you to read it, and then we’ll figure it out from there, got it?”

Aelin nodded, eternally grateful she didn’t have to go through this with Aedion. The Army must have done something right with his brain because he made himself scarce after he answered the door.

She did the deed, opened the door for Lysandra, and they both sat on the floor holding hands for three minutes.

Aelin already knew what it would show.

Two solid pink lines.

Positive.

---

to my tag list: hello, i’m back, and currently in the process of uploading the rest of this fic! please let me know if you do not want to be on my list anymore, or if you would like to be added! love y’all!

@maddymelv​ || @lucy617​ || @tillyrubes10​ || @faerie-queen-fireheart​ || @tottenhamboys20​ || @the-third-me​ || @superspiritfestival​ || @rolltide7​ || @courtofjurdan​ || @sleeping-and-books​ || @aelinchocolatelover​

60+ Tarot Card Analysis Ideas

On this celebration, they provide 3 mins absolutely free, regardless of the chosen solution. In other words, you can pick a tarot card reading for love, a psychic conversation, and even a fortune-telling session if thats what you want. Although they request for your bank card information, they just bill you after your session ends.

One of the most essential tarot pattern utilized in these 2 nations was the Tarot card of Marseilles of Milanese origin. The earliest enduring tarot cards are the 15 or two Visconti-Sforza tarot card decks repainted in the mid-15th century for the rulers of the Duchy of Milan. He explained a 60-card deck with 16 cards having photos of the Roman gods and fits depicting four sort of birds. Other very early decks that likewise showcased classical motifs include the Sola-Busca and Boiardo-Viti decks of the 1490s. Alongside the usage of tarot card cards to divine for others by specialist cartomancers, tarot is likewise made use of widely as a device for seeking individual advice and also spiritual development. You can think about a tarot card reading as a way to tell your life story, including the components that have not happened yet. The reading won't be rather as certain as your preferred book, however it will certainly be all about you. You're the story's main personality, though the tarot card story most likely consists of details concerning individuals and scenarios around you. This business has actually been in business because 1989, offering extremely exact psychic readings by chat, phone, as well as live video clip. They enable you to make a decision based on understanding the context. To further comprehend just how tarot cards work as well as just how they can assist shed light on your lovemaking, you shouldnt ask closed-ended inquiries. Also a easy free love tarot reading can use you extremely helpful details. You can get to a greater understanding when it concerns factors that influence your past, present, as well as future partnerships. Keep reading to discover exactly how psychic support can work in your support. Every deck has its own subtleties, and also every visitor has their very own analyses. I was therefore determined asked him to select a card for me after my interview-- something I can focus on or learn from. He 'd reportedly been doing complimentary tarot readings at a French coffee shop for several years; as just recently as 2017, a Facebook user posted that he still appeared on Wednesdays, as did a TripAdvisor reviewer. At its many fundamental, tarot card tells tales about the cycles of our lives. Mixing the deck, choosing cards and laying them out in order discloses what different tests and tribulations we might encounter during any type of provided journey. Nonetheless, the cards in the significant arcana do not necessarily represent us in a offered reading; they may stand for another person in our lives, or represent even more general concerns. Tarot is a complicated language, as well as every reading is various; similarly, every viewers as well as the methodology they make use of to translate the method the cards communicate is different. This is just one of the more varied sites absolutely free tarot readings online. You do not need to use them for each analysis, yet it's a great way to get started while you discover the cards. Among the easiest readings you can make use of to acquaint yourself with the cards is the past, present, future spread. Take the leading card from your shuffled deck, as well as expose them one by one, left to right. While you shuffle, assume meticulously about the area of your life in which you 'd like extra quality for. Experts typically believe tarot card cards can help the private explore one's spiritual path. Expert fortuneteller contend times been implicated of charlatanism. Heavy use of the Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot card was also advertised in the works of Eden Gray, whose three books on the tarot card made comprehensive use the deck. With cost-free psychic readings by means of an e-mail address, you won't obtain the advantage of listening to the individual's voice or seeing their face, yet you do get to take your time with the discussion in such a way that's unrushed. With e-mail, you do not have to await the psychic to be on-line and available to converse with you. Instead, send an e-mail question whenever the mood strikes, as well as your advisor will compose back to your e-mail address as quickly as they can. With cost-free analyses, you'll generally need to get rid of your charge card details and also an e-mail address to access the services. We'll also give you a couple of pointers on what to anticipate during your first tarot analysis, and also explain how tarot card readings work. A three-card spread has the visitor draw three cards from the deck after it's been mixed and cut in half by the querent. Typically, the first called pulled represents the past, the second stands for the present, as well as the third represents the future. Just how those timelines are interpreted depends on the analysis and the concern being asked-- "future" may indicate tomorrow or it might indicate one decade from now. The most popular and well-known deck is the Rider-Waite, drawn by illustrator Pamela Colman Smith and also published in 1910. These cards are recognized for their simple images, their straightforward color pattern, and also their importance. Furthermore, the Minor Arcana likewise includes 40 phoned number cards which are organized into 4 Matches of 10 cards each. These stand for the different scenarios that we come across in our daily lives. Oranum is your best choice if you like on the internet tarot card reading solutions using video conversation as opposed to messages or call. Although there are a large number of love psychics offered online, it is essential to select a service that is genuine, trustworthy, and customer-friendly in nature. With many choices readily available at the click of a computer mouse, choosing a genuine tarot card reading area is always hard. Shuffling and dealing with the cards is a great means to literally connect with the deck that you're utilizing. As instinct is an essential element of a analysis, you'll require to bring on your own right into the cards. Try to shuffle at least once, yet nevertheless often times you feel is necessary to obtain the cards " gotten rid of". I'm sure if you're right here, you're already filled with inquiries. Many people end up being curious regarding tarot card when they are confronted with excellent uncertainty in their lives. As well as when the cards are utilized appropriately, they show to be a awesome tool to aid you take into consideration other point of views as well as move on in the most effective method possible. I've been utilizing Psychic Resource for years and also they have actually always been really friendly, compassionate, and exact. Because the earliest tarot card cards were hand-painted, the variety of the decks created is thought to have been small. https://tarot-masters.com was just after the innovation of the printing press that automation of cards came to be possible. The expansion of tarot outside of Italy, initially to France and Switzerland, occurred during the Italian Battles. Right Here at Golden String Tarot card, we recognize that tarot is not about disclosing a fixed future, yet instead concerning exploring your unconscious self. He drew a deck from his breast pocket-- evidently, he brings the significant arcana from the Marseille deck with him almost everywhere-- as well as picked The Lovers card. Everybody typically obtains excited when The Lovers turns up in a analysis, given that we all assume that it indicates advantages for our lovemaking; yet it does not always show romantic love in any way. While they are an on the internet reading service and also can talk, they mainly do tarot analyses by phone. While that's impressive in itself, what really attracts attention concerning this network is the experience of the tarot card masters you discover there. They provide informative analyses that use the tarot as a tool to magnificent information regarding a person's conditions. They have actually developed tarot card checking out to the point of it being an art kind and I've constantly found out more concerning myself as well as exactly how to navigate my existing life circumstance from hanging out on the site. Kasamba has been supplying tarot readings on the internet for two decades now. There are several tarot card decks available, and also each deck and visitor are one-of-a-kind. The viewers will establish the cards out in different patterns using differing varieties of cards. Hence, if you do select a expert love psychic analysis, youll be able to come close to the next events in your life with even more guts. You can discover every information you need to find out about your existing and future love life. Likewise, youll learn to make the ideal choices and depend on the right people. What you really need in order to utilize the power of a tarot reading to the optimum, is a very intuitive and experienced overview. The interpretation offered by a actual psychic is the result of experiences given from generation to generation. According to many psychic sources on free love tarot details, you must ask open-ended questions. This is since tarot cards can help you clear up the topic, not tell you what to do. Lots of people suggest the Rider-Waite deck for newbies, as the cards' significances are so typically instinctive-- as well as when they're not, plenty of interpretation guides exist in books and online. Several decks, including the Rider-Waite, included a little sheet of paper specifying each of the card's most typical analyses. Though tarot card cards have actually handled a mystical meaning in the cultural imagination, they were originally intended as even more of a party game. The cards have actually been used because at the very least the mid-15th century; the earliest taped decks came from numerous parts of Italy. I think I can assist you comprehend the covert significance of things. Our totally free tarot card readings should enable you to recognize your future better as well as comprehend what awaits you. Tarot card readings are a powerful form of prophecy that utilize an old deck of cards to aid you discover response to your crucial questions about love, connections, your career, financial resources and also more. Psychics as well as foreteller have actually made use of Tarot cards for centuries, and also Trusted Tarot card will certainly provide you an accurate analysis that's personalized based the cards you choose and also the order you select them. Every card has a various meaning relying on its placement, so you will get a one-of-a-kind as well as in-depth viewpoint on your current situation. To prepare for your reading, I suggest that you listen to this grounding excercise - then scroll down as well as select your cards. The tarot card deck includes 78 cards, each of which is associated with its very own particular imagery, meaning, as well as tale. Out of the 78 cards, there are 22 significant Arcana cards that stand for the karmic as well as spiritual lessons of a person's life. The 56 Minor Arcana cards represent the tribulations and also trials that we, as people, face in our day-to-days live. Among the Minor Arcana cards, there are 16 Tarot Court Cards which represent 16 various personality type that we reveal at various times.

REDDIT FAIL. A User’s Debut in Review

Charting the Unknown

For the past month, I have embarked into the unknown, entering the Reddit community as a first time user. Although my familiarity with this site is somewhat limited, I have learned a lot in a short amount of time. It was easy to set up an account, and once you do, it immediately asks you to start selecting your interests to begin populating your homepage with relevant content suited to your preferences. 

History 

I'm a health food junky. My pantry and fridge are full of condiments, seeds, dressings, and any obscure product I can lay my hands on. I might have a problem; let's call it a passion. I have been eating clean since the age of fifteen, trying to eat almost entirely organically and locally, splurging here and there. I have never attempted to fully take the plunge into the vegan world, and thought that the subreddit community I selected would be a great way to gain some insight into the diet and work two-fold to immerse myself into this community as a participating, practicing, and contributing member. 

My prior knowledge lent itself better to plant based eating than the Reddit world itself. Reddit has been around since 2012 and I have only been registered on the site for about seven months. Currently, the Reddit app is the 6th most frequented in the category of social networks, taking a seat right behind Pinterest (Oberlo, 2020).

The majority of users are between the ages of 25-29 and they make up 25% of all of Reddit's users. The site is also popular among 18-24 year olds at 21%, and 30-49 year olds, a much larger grouping who make up 14% of its user base Across the board, it is popular among people of all ages. Users form and join communities, or subreddits, and these individual threads and pages are dedicated to a particular subject of interest that users can elect to follow. There are over 2.2 million different subreddits, and 130,000 of these subreddits are considered active today, with daily participation and posts from at least 5 of its followers. It makes sense that with so many different areas of interest and content available to choose from, the user base demographically speaking is equally diverse and substantial.  

Diving In 

The whole food subreddit that I elected to participate in is a community that has 150,000 members, and is fairly active, which in my thinking made it a good option as a page I would further explore. The content is often by an individual user who shares a picture of their latest meal followed by an ingredient listing or specific recipe. Other times, people post their questions about a particular plant-based brand or product. Some take it a step further still, delving into nutritional values, personal health concerns, or other fundamentals of the science behind plant based eating. With such a broad spectrum of content, the diversity of the page itself lends itself well to someone's own individual level of commitment. It is, in fact, user friendly. 

Participation Awards 

Over the past month, I have posted to the whole food subreddit once a week. Each week, I have tried to contribute in a new and different way as the last in order to cast a wider net, experimenting with what will and what not draw engagement and to what degree. You wouldn't call me the most active user, but I have been consistently participating. The page's responsiveness has been fairly consistent as well, if not slightly underwhelming compared to other sites I have used. More to come on that.  

My first post was more of a precursor and asked a broad question. I wanted to get a feel for the page itself. I told my audience that I was a first time user and a first time vegan, and pointed out my concerns about the specific foods that I would miss both in terms of taste and nutritional content. I asked for advice and if anyone on the page could relate and how best to supplement my diet accordingly. I got some good responses and advice from a few users as well as a friendly reminder from the page administrators.  

The administrators quickly but kindly reminded me of the codes of conduct and that questions like these are frequently asked and reoccurring. They said I would be better served if I navigated towards Q&A threads before posting questions to make sure they haven't already been asked and answered. I thought my original spin was worthy of a post but unfortunately the administrators did not see it my way. Strike one. 

The following week, I decided to post a picture that lent itself well to a lot of the current page content. 

I had made vegan apple pies using a butter alternative for the pie crust and thought that they turned out nicely and that the post itself would have a fun and seasonal spin. For a desert they were still quite healthy and I figured they would do well on a page that showcased mostly entrees. I proceeded to have an apple pie photoshoot in my kitchen and uploaded my prized picture. I am still unsure of the reason exactly, but even today the picture is still awaiting administrator approval. Strike two. 

Week three, I tried a new tactic. I couldn't lose. I participated in an active thread Q&A rather than try to post my own content. Someone was looking for pantry staples and I gave a suggestion of one of my favorites. Victorious! People commented and people agreed. I finally felt like I had made a contribution to the community. 

During this time of experimentation, I have managed to acquire a handful of points, or karma as the page calls it. Users can "upvote" or like content, and this is how your karma is earned. This meant that overall my contributions, content, and profile itself was at least now a bit more trustworthy and substantial.  

For my most recent post, I had asked about a cauliflower based "alfredo" sauce that I saw in the store that consisted of only vegetables, salt, pepper, lemon juice and olive oil. 

I thought I might try it out and was genuinely curious to see if anyone else had and what they thought before making the purchase. I was informed by the page administrators that oil as an active ingredient, as well as the majority of oil for that matter, is strictly prohibited, and that coconut oil is frowned upon and cautioned against. This came as a bit of a shock to me considering firstly that olives are a fruit, and secondly that many oils are in fact a very healthy addition to your diet. My post was active and did receive a few comments before it was taken down by the page administrators. Strike three. Lesson learned. 

Takeaways 

The Reddit community itself is one that lends itself very well to a person's own specific interests and works as a platform to gain more information on any variety of topics. The information is concise and from what I can tell, trustworthy.  The particulars of the specific community I chose were as restrictive as the diet itself. There was an entire learning curve into the codes of conduct by page administrators. I took more of a crash course than I expected, but I think that this may have been partially my fault. Not only was I brand new to the nuances of the Reddit website itself, I was also entering into a brand new way of cooking, eating, and thinking about food. I didn't realize going in that this subreddit was more than a showcase of healthful eating, but catering towards a very narrow style and method of dieting, one that I am not a representative or firm believer of. My philosophy has always been everything in moderation, including moderation. My own lack of experience when it came to such a structured and rigid style of dieting inhibited my ability to contribute effectively. This vegan imposter tried to count her chickens before they hatched.  

Overall the users have been friendly and good natured, although they do take their discussions and content seriously. In the online world of instant gratification, the pace feels slower on the Reddit forums and more restrictive. This may not impact the individual user as positively at first, but it does lend well to the trustworthiness and the level of quality one can expect of the page content overall. I learned that this particular subreddit page is one that is heavily surveilled and meticulously maintained in order to stay true to the quality and accuracy of its subject matter. Whether or not this compels me to be an active participant on the subreddit moving forward, or in my specific case, being more like a repeat offender, I can trust that the content itself will steer my interest in the right direction and broaden my scope of thinking. Reddit has not seen the last of u/laurenemi.

10 Reddit Statistics You Should Know in 2020 [Infographic]

AN AMAZING FIC, it feels like I'm reading a book, its called Follow the wind by Tahimikamaxtli

Here's a small part that should get u in the mood, BTW Caitlyn feels so real in this particular scene, hope u enjoy.

-x-

Gentle shaking was what awoke Yasuo. His eyes fluttered open as the gentle motion rocked him. As he shifted, the hand left his shoulder, evidently satisfied that he was awake.

"Yasuo. Get up," said a very familiar voice. Dimly, he realized that whoever it was, they must have been calling his name for some time.

He straightened, sitting up on the bench with a groan, pressing palms to his temples as the world tilted dangerously before him. Already, he could feel the beginnings of his inevitable hangover as an uncomfortable prickling set in behind his eyes. Once the feeling of nausea had passed, he looked up at who had woken him and squinted against the bright light of the hallway lanterns.

Though he could only see their silhouette, the shadow of the large hat made it obvious who it was. After all, there was only one person in the League who wore such a ridiculous hat. Not that he would ever tell her it was ridiculous.

Caitlyn.

As his vision adjusted to the light, he thought he could see the smug smile on her face.

"Have a nice nap, love?" she asked sardonically as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other and crossed her arms. She had traded her Sheriff's outfit for a simple purple top and frilly purple skirt that only just covered her thighs. For an officer of the law, Yasuo often thought she had a less than scrupulous taste in clothing. He let his eyes wander up past her ankle-high boots and up her smooth legs before they came to rest on her face. Yasuo looked at her for a moment more, meeting her amused gray eyes before groaning again and covering his eyes with his right hand; the light from behind her was still painful.

"Why is it you?" he asked as he lowered his hand at last. "Of all the people in the Institute…"

Caitlyn's smile grew. "Don't think yourself lucky, love. When we're all cooped up here, the chances of running into one another are higher than you'd think."

Yasuo waved a hand dismissively and Caitlyn chuckled. He took several steadying breaths before he spoke again.

"Where are Jayce and Vi?" he asked as he realized that the Piltover triumvirate was not complete. To his surprise, Caitlyn stiffened and her expression hardened as she tightened her arms around one another.

"They're not here," she said tightly. Yasuo raised an eyebrow – both at the obvious statement and at her tone.

"It doesn't take a Sheriff to see that," he said carefully. "I just thought they'd be with you."

"They were. Not anymore."

"Where'd they go?" he asked casually.

"Back to Jayce's room. Or Vi's. Or maybe somewhere else. I don't know; I left before I could hear much else."

Yasuo straightened, interested. "Together? They left together?"

Caitlyn nodded curtly, and she uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips and looking away from Yasuo. "Maybe my wishes will come true and they'll finally sleep together," she said with a faintly bitter tone. "Then I won't have to deal with them flirting anymore. Heavens knows it's such a bother."

"You don't sound all that happy about it," muttered Yasuo without meeting her eyes. Though he was obviously interested in her reaction, he was approaching the subject as carefully as he could. The last thing he wanted was a red dot on his forehead and a bullet in his brain. Death was not so… temporary off of the Rift.

Caitlyn smiled thinly. "I'm not. If I have trouble dealing with them now when they're not sleeping together, I can only imagine how it'll be if they start." She sighed and rubbed her temples. "I can already see the paperwork… oh, my poor fingers," she said as she cracked her knuckles for emphasis.

Yasuo chuckled uneasily and Caitlyn shot him a glare that was only half-serious. She had a valid point about having to deal with them as their friend if they became a couple, but he could not shake the feeling…

He cleared his throat. "So you're not jealous?" he asked meekly. Caitlyn stared at him.

"Jealous? Why on earth would I be jealous?" she asked, sounding very genuinely surprised. "What are you on about?"

"Oh. I thought maybe…" His voice trailed off timidly, and after another moment of staring incredulously at him, Caitlyn let out a loud laugh. Her laughter rang out through the halls as she doubled over, clutching her stomach. Yasuo felt his face redden. There's no need to laugh that much…

Her laughter continued even as he squirmed uncomfortably on the bench, looking around the hallway to make sure no one saw him being laughed at by Caitlyn. To his relief, there was no one in sight.

"Oh, you wanker!" she gasped once she could finally breath again. Still laughing, her speech was halting and broken. "You thought- You thought I had feelings for one of them, didn't you?"

"No."

"You bugger," she said with a grin. "You're lying, I can tell. Tell me the truth, Yasuo."

"Well, not anymore," he corrected himself stiffly. Caitlyn wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes, shoulders still shaking.

"Oh, I'm sorry for my rudeness, love," she said quickly and still unsteadily. "It's just… that's so bloody ridiculous!"

"I can see that now."

Caitlyn, still giggling, sat down on the bench beside him. The edges of her hat brushed his hair as she leaned back. "I didn't mean to laugh at you, love. But I'm being quite serious: I don't have feelings for either of them."

Yasuo glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes as she said it; her tone had changed drastically. Her eyes and her face were filled with a bitter sadness, and though how she said it was with complete conviction, her expression lacked that same conviction. The laughter had fled her face, leaving it sorrowful and morose. She was silent, staying ahead of her at the opposite wall of the corridor with blank eyes as Yasuo watched her. Just when he was about to ask her if she was fine, she spoke again.

"And besides," she started briskly as if realizing how she looked. "Even if I did, it wouldn't matter: do you know how mad it is to date a friend, love?" She shook her head vigorously, sending her hat trembling. "Absolutely barmy. Honestly, I wouldn't want the trouble." She sighed. "Unfortunately, if this goes on like I think it's going to, it's going to be even worse for me than either of them, I wager. I'd still have to deal with the both of them if they start to ignore each other."

"That doesn't sound fun."

Caitlyn cracked another small smile. "It won't be."

Yasuo sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned back on the wall behind him. "Well, Caitlyn," he muttered. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Thanks, love." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "What happened to you?" she asked finally.

"What are you talking about?" he grumbled without opening his eyes; the light was still painful.

"You took a while to wake up, love. You must been drinking quite a lot. Trying to forget something… or someone?" she added slyly.

"I've just got a lot of things on my mind," he said, ignoring the second part of her question.

"A woman?"

Yasuo opened his eyes to glare at her. "No, not a woman. Not everything men think about is about women, Caitlyn."

The Sheriff's shoulders brushed against his as she shrugged. "But much of it is," she said idly. She narrowed her eyes at him in scrutiny. "Come on, love. I'm not Valoran's Greatest Detective for no reason."

"Is that you?" said Yasuo nonchalantly. "And here I was under the impression that it was Vayne. Silly me."

That struck a nerve; even though he had known both women for a short time, he knew that Vayne and Caitlyn had an almost friendly rivalry over who was the better investigator. He knew that although the Night Hunter and the Sheriff of Piltover were close, at many times they would butt heads over their differing methods, and their normally warm relationship would ice over. But the two women always maintained a professional respect for one another, even if their friendship would occasionally turn icy. He had seen them many times at a table together, heads together as they conversed quietly on what he could only imagine were cases. He knew that they consulted each other, and at times they would work together and ask favors of one another.

Caitlyn's eyes flashed in anger at the sound of her friend's name, and she stiffened, hands clenching at her sides. "Yes, well, unlike my colleague the Night Hunter," she said shortly. "I operate within legal parameters." She held the hard expression for a moment longer before a sly smile twitched her lips and softened it. "Besides, I consider it a handicap for her. It's only fair, the poor girl."

Yasuo let a grin of his own cross his face. "Don't let her hear you say that. And you can't tell me you haven't ever… stretched the law a bit. Not once asked Vi to rough a criminal up a little or Jayce to investigate a suspect's home on his free time?"

"Not once." She had answered it smoothly and without a hint of a lie, but the grin on her face gave it away.

Chuckling, Yasuo shook his head. "You and Vayne are worse than Vi and Jayce."

"We are not!" exclaimed Caitlyn, scandalized. Yasuo shrugged, and Caitlyn scoffed. "You're just saying that to get me off topic, aren't you?" she asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Maybe," said Yasuo as he inspected his fingernails. He did not have his sword with him, so there was little else to pretend to be interested in.

"I knew it," said Caitlyn as she shifted on the bench to face Yasuo. "Were you thinking about her?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

Caitlyn looked at him with eyebrows raised in skepticism. "Come on, love," she said with a sigh. "I know who she is. Don't make me say her name – for your sake."

Yasuo pressed his lips tightly together and looked away pointedly.

"That bad, huh?" said Caitlyn quietly. "Maybe you should try to talk to her, Yasuo."

"Again, I still don't know what you're talking about."

Caitlyn growled in exasperation, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands in the air. "Fine. If you're going to be difficult, so can I. Riven, Yasuo. Talk to Riven."

Yasuo's eyes flashed to her, and he quelled the surprise in his chest. "How'd you know?" he asked finally, his voice low.

Caitlyn tapped the rim of her hat. "Valoran's Greatest Detective, remember? Don't worry, love, other than me and maybe Vayne, I don't think a lot of people suspect it." She scrunched her nose, her brow furrowing. "And I don't think Shauna gives much of a damn, either. Relationships aren't really her cup of tea, so to speak."

"If you know about… her, then you know the feelings I have for her aren't romantic in the slightest," he said, his voice still low and dangerous. "She killed my master, Caitlyn. She's the reason I've suffered these past years."

"The rest of Ionia doesn't seem to believe you, love," she said softly. "And I can't but feel like you're lying to yourself about your own feelings."

"That's their problem," he said coldly, once again ignoring the second part of her comment. He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you think, Caitlyn? Do you believe me, or do you think I'm a liar, just like all the other Ionians do?"

Caitlyn kept his gaze for a silent minute, her gray eyes searching his intently before she looked away. Sighing wearily, she lifted her hat as she brushed her hair back. "I believe you, love," she said at last once she had placed her hat back on her head. "I don't think you did it." She smiled humorlessly. "But even I have to admit… the evidence is compelling. An Elder killed at the temple you were tasked to guard. Killed by a wind technique when the only known user of those techniques was you. Once you were confronted, you chose instead to run rather than turn yourself in. You have to admit, it seems like an open-and-shut case."

"The evidence is compelling and the case is open-and-shut only for those who had already made up their minds. They didn't so much as give me a chance to explain myself. They were going to execute me right there without a trial or anything."

"Whatever the case may be…" she muttered. "If you're not going to talk to Riven, why not talk to one of her friends? Maybe you can understand her better that way. If you want to understand her better at all."

"All of her friends are Ionians," he said simply. "I doubt they're in much of a mood to talk to me." But even as he said it, he thought of Lee Sin. The Blind Monk had always been more receptive of him, and silently, he made a promise to speak to him some time later. Caitlyn was watching his facial expression, her eyes flickering back and forth across his face.

"You've thought of something," she noted.

"Maybe."

Yasuo stood, and Caitlyn watched him as he placed a hand to the wall beside him to steady himself. With his conversation with Caitlyn, he had almost forgotten that he was still drunk. He closed his eyes to help abate the nausea as he caught his breath. Once he found he could stand without his legs shaking, he opened his eyes once more. Caitlyn kept her eyes trained onto him, the amused expression returning as she watched him stumble.

"I'd almost forgotten you were completely sloshed, love," she said in barely contained delight.

"So did I," he said with a groan. It's going to be a long night… Damn you, Gragas.

"You're a very cogent drunk, you know that, Yasuo?" she added as she stood as well. "You were very articulate this whole time."

Yasuo chuckled. "I've been drunk a lot, Caitlyn. You get used to it after a while. Soon enough, people don't even know you're drunk." He closed his eyes as another wave of vertigo washed over him. "Sometimes you can even fool yourself," he added with a wince.

Caitlyn looked at him, this time her eyebrows raised in more derisive amusement. "Whatever the reason, I hope this teaches you a lesson or two."

"I doubt it; I'm not a very good listener."

"I'd imagine not, love." The Sheriff gave a friendly tip of the hat as she also turned to leave. "Well, until next time, Yasuo."

"What are you going to do tonight?" he asked suddenly as she began to walk away.

Caitlyn paused, and when she turned, there was another, more unreadable smile on her face. "Me? Why do you want to know, Yasuo? You want to ask me on a date?"

Yasuo shrugged. "No, I'm just curious."

Caitlyn sighed, and Yasuo could not tell if it was from disappointment or something else. "I'm going to go to my apartment, take a nice long bath – preferably with candles, bubbles and slow music and most definitely alone – then I'm going to go to sleep. I'm going to need my rest for whatever disaster happens tomorrow between Vi and Jayce. And you?"

"Lie down and wait until this hangover goes away," he said with a groan. "Hopefully I won't succumb to the temptation to kill myself to end it sooner."

Caitlyn laughed. "Maybe you should drink less."

Yasuo scoffed. "Drink less? What kind of a suggestion is that?"

"A reasonable one."

"Reasonable?" he repeated, aghast. "You must be even drunker than I am to be thinking such crazy things."

Caitlyn laughed again, turning away and waving farewell over her shoulder. "Good night, Yasuo."

As Yasuo watched her go, his eyes were far lower than he would normally cast them if she were facing him. He watched her slender legs stride away confidently, enjoying the view despite himself. For once, he found he rather enjoyed the Sheriff's choice in barely-there skirts. A small smile lifted the right corner of his mouth as he shook his head.

Consider us even now, Caitlyn, he thought to himself as her form disappeared completely from view; he was thinking back to the time when he had been shirtless in the League cafeteria and he had felt her gaze linger on his own body as he walked away. With a quiet chuckle and with more concentration than he would have liked for it to take, he forced the image of a Caitlyn… alone… in a bath… with bubbles… and candles… and slow music… from his mind's eye.

Now, now, Yasuo, he chided himself as he began to make his way slowly in the direction of his apartment. We can't have that. You heard her: relationships with friends are nothing but trouble. Even if she does have a nice as- nope, don't even think it, Yasuo.

But he let the image of a bathing Caitlyn linger in his mind as he walked back to his apartment. It was all in good fun, after all; he had no romantic feelings for the Sheriff, and liked her perfectly well as nothing more than a friend, though he still considered her very attractive. Especially when her flavor for clothing was a little on the risqué side. Besides, whenever he fell asleep, there was only one woman who invaded his dreams. Someone who he would much rather not have there.

Riven.

the monthly suffering

(Trans kirishima x bakugou..also this involves perverted Mineta and Kiri dealing with the pain of having functioning ovaries)

Kirishima was pushing Bakugou out the door. "go babe, I'll be fine I promise." "you were throwing up twenty minutes ago red" Bakugou protested, Kirishima sighed. "I can take care of myself, now go out and try and have fun." Bakugou grumbled and kissed his forehead "call me if you need anything okay, and you should probably take off your binder because I heard its not good to wear it while...you're on." Kirishima nods, standing on his toes he kisses his forehead. "I will I will, now go out and have fun." He finally got Bakugou to leave with one more 'I love you Red', and now Kirishima was all alone. He went back into his room, and grabbed some comfy clothes. Kirishima was on his period, the awful part of being a trans boy without bottom surgery and the poor boy was suffering. His stomach was cramping pretty bad earlier which was why he threw up, he could feel his ovaries and he didn't want to. Grabbing a soft sports bra, comfy light sweat pants, he had to grab a pair of loose fitting panties because he couldn't wear just his boxers while he was in his time of suffering. He'd just wear loose fitting panties and then loose fitting boxers, just to give himself a little bit of a masculine feeling. Taking them to the bathroom, he goes to take a shower. Undoing his binder, Eijirou turned on the shower water while continuing to undress. When the binder was off he huffed and took a deep breath, knowing his upper back would be feeling sore soon so might as well enjoy this peace for now. Getting into the shower when he was ready, Kirishima washed himself up. The hot water felt great, his body temperature fluctuated when he had to deal with this. So sometimes he'd go from cold to hot very quickly. Though the water was good he knew that standing like this would make his back hurt as well as his feet. He really needed to figure out how to make his entire body comfy but as long as he could get just a little comfort he was okay. Letting the water drench through his hair that went down with ease and laid down onto his face. When he was able to get out of the shower, he could feel the soreness and cramps coming back, he needed to take his pain medicine soon if he was gonna survive this with out crying too much. So he got dressed, putting on his underwear after putting on a pad with it, pulling up the sweats. He was happy that the waist band didn't put any pressure on his abdomen. He then put on the sports bra, Kiri didn't feel like wearing a shirt, he's alone right so why should he? He didn't feel like blow drying his hair so he just used a towel and brushed it out. When he was ready he left the bathroom and went into his dorm. Putting his other clothes into his hamper he grabbed his phone and went to the elevator. Getting down stairs the red haired male goes into the common room, his bare feet pitter patter against the hard wood as he went into the kitchen. Pushing his bangs out of his face, he goes into the pantry, because he couldn't decide on which craving to satisfy. He wanted sweets like chocolate but he also wanted something salty like overly buttery salty popcorn. He couldn't find any soda or pop corn but in the fridge he did find a medium sized bowl of chocolate pudding that a certain student who loved to bake, made. Grabbing the bowl he could help but lick his lips at the chilled bowl, he went and got a spoon. Taking off the plastic wrapping kirishima took a spoonful and soon put it into his mouth, oh yes this was delicious! It was cold but his body still ran a little hotter than usual so this was great. He softly bounced on his tip toes as he started eating out of the bowl. Pacing lightly Kirishima was in his own world as he devoured the bowl. All he knew was he was alone in heaven, well actually he wasn't alone at all. The girls were still here, they were just hanging out in momo's room and were coming down the stairs to the common room to have a girl's night. When they arrived what they saw was a mop of red hair in a sports bra and sweat pants who was this girl? The girls didn't seem to recognize their sunshine peer, well all except for Mina who noticed it was him when she saw how tall the 'girl' was. "k-Kirishima?" Hearing this they froze in their tracks and dropped the almost empty bowl which felt on his foot making him jump and yelp in pain. "Ouch!" The girls approached looking very perplexed at him. "w-wait Kiri?!" Kirishima looked up and immediately covered himself and tried to hide. Mina hurried over "Its okay kiri sorry we scared you" Kirishima still covered himself when Mina came over. He couldn't look her in the eyes, he was already feeling dysphoric and shy. "Here why don't we clean this up, are you okay it looked like it hurt?" Mina asked seeing some of the pudding on the floor, Kirishima nods quietly and goes to get towels, limping softly to get paper towels. Mina helped him clean up, it was hard to kneel down on the floor because of his stomach and back hurting so he was happy to have the help. "There we go" Standing back up Kirishima noticed the girl's staring at him. "u-uhmm" Mina looked back at the girls "don't stare at him please." She requested Hakagure finally spoke since the girls were silence. U-Um Kiri a-are you a girl?" Kirishima felt like disappearing, hiding, anything to keep him from being seen hoping their reactions wouldn't be harsh. Mina answered for him. "Kirishima is a transgender male, he likes to present as male despite his biologically female body parts. He feels male on the inside versuses his female outsides." They all seem to have a look of understanding on their faces Jirou was next to question him. "So why didn't you go with the boys then, usually you're with Bakugou all the time?" Kirishima nods and speaks up for himself still keeping his chest covered with his arms, even with the bra on he felt exposed. "i-i..I um.." It felt so weird to say it even if its in front of a bunch of girls who most likely get their monthly torture time. "I'm on my period" Suddenly the room's mood changed to sympathy, their eyes turned soft and warm. Mina gently rubbed his back and cooed, "Aaw Kiri why didn't you text me?" Kiri muttered about how it was embarrassing. Jirou came back into the conversation to try and make the boy feel better. "Kirishima, no need to be embarrassed around a bunch of girls. Most of us have to deal with our periods too, I know it sucks even more for you because you probably feel all yucky about it. You don't need to cover yourself, it should be us girls and you." "yeah you're not the only one who walks around dressed like that around the dorms" Kendou smiles which seemed to cheer the male up a little, he slowly let go of himself. "th-thanks girls, y-you're really nice." He earned a bunch of giggles when he blushed and and smiles. "Plus you're not the only one on their period right now ya know." Mina mentioned while ruffling his head, which made him whine and rubbed his temples. She with drew her hand feeling that his hair was still very damp. "Kiri hun why is your hair still wet?" Kirishima shrugged. "I don't feel like doing anything with it." "that's understandable, why don't you join us, we're gonna just hang out in the common room anyway, Kiri?" Suggested Nejire, Kiri couldn't say no to the blue haired girl plus the girls were nice and it wouldn't be so bad right. "Okay sure" Sitting on the floor or couches the girl squad and Kirishima, were having a pretty good time. Talking about movies they liked, hobbies and such. While listening to kendou talk Mina was brushing Kirishima's hair out so it wasn't so wet despite his towel drying method. It was a good distraction from the pain that had turned mild after a little bit, though now the pain was starting to get worse. His back ached while his stomach and pelvic area cramped painfully, his head started hurting. His toes curled as he squirmed lightly trying to get comfortable. Some of the girls noticed hearing him whimper softly. "you okay Kiri?" Asked Kendou, Kiri grunts and bites his lip. "C-cramps, e-every thing hurts bad." "Ooh, what do you usually do for the pain bud?" someone asked, Kirishima shrugged while rubbing his temples. "Have you ever used a heating pad or hot water bottle? It usually helps most people with cramps." Kirishima looked up and replied "A what? U-Usually Bakugou will just use a small part of his quirk which warms up his hands and he'll put it on my stomach, it helps a bit." "Aaw that's so sweet of him~" Momo cooed sweetly, Mina gently pats Kirishima on the head who nods in agreement. "Y-yeah, he'll cuddle and rub my stomach sometimes get me stuff from the store if I ask him to." "Omg that is so sweet, I had no idea the loud Pomeranian could be so nice." Smiled Uraraka "Kero yeah though Kirishima must've brought out his soft spot kero." joined Tsu, Kirishima chuckled a little while wincing and whining. Kirishima paled a little feeling nauseous, he then curled up against Mina who frowned and rubbed his back. "Cramps?" "f-feel sick" It was only a minute before Kirishima felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up a little to see Momo handing him a soft seltzer drink. "It should help settle your stomach" Gratefully taking the pop can, Kiri sipped on it with a small 'thank you'. It did help feeling the carbonation bubbling in his aching stomach and it did dull the pain a small bit. Mina continued to rub small circles into his back. She did manage to tie up some of his hair into a small ponytail so it wouldn't be in Eijirou's face. The girls and Kirishima continued to talk and were now watching videos. In the middle of it, Kirishima excused himself to go and change out his pad. He got that icky feeling that meant he needed to do that also he needed to pee anyway. Walking to the bathroom he took off all three bottom pieces, and did his business. Washing his hands he had the sudden craving again for something salty and he was hungry anyway. So when he came back he offered to get and make snacks for the girls and himself. "hey Kiri do we have any more popcorn?" Inquired Mina "not in the main pantry no" Momo just decided to make a box of pop corn with all the separate packets inside. He put four bags, one in each microwave. Since the kitchen was big, there were multiple appliances for a large amount of students to use. He'd given the girls their bags that they'd share since he knew no one would want to eat his popcorn that he planned on loading with salt and butter. As he made his bag, Mineta decided to come down, the girls hadn't noticed since he'd came down quietly. He'd been spying on them for sometime now but when he saw Kiri from behind. Much like his classmates before, the grape boy couldn't recognize Eijirou as Eijirou. He drooled at the what he was seeing. Kirishima was quite busty for a trans male, and he was bench over watching his popcorn cook. Mineta creeped closer and closer until the midget was just close enough to grab onto both the sweat pants and boxers and pulled them down revealing Kirishima's orange panties. Kirishima shrieks in terror when he was pants turning around and stumbling out of his pants to get away from Mineta who tried to him again. The girls hear this and immediately race over, they all screamed as well. Kirishima kept using his foot to keep Mineta away the best he could, the girls tried to help but bloody hell Mineta was relentless. "How could you keep this goddess away from me she's so hot with such beautiful breast." Kirishima was screaming like a spider was on him forgetting about his painful cramps and tried to pull off Mineta. With the girls's luck the door opened and in came the boys. "We're back~!" Called out Kaminari with a gleeful smile as the boys walked in Bakugou had a bag of goodies for Kirishima since he knew his boyfriend felt awful. Though hearing and seeing the girls hitting something with a broom the boys got confused. "the hecks going on?" Questioned Kaminari then Kirishima growls "get your filthy fucking hands off me you perveted midget!" the turned to see the horrible scene of the girls hitting Mineta with a broom who was holding onto Kirishima's breast and pushing his face in for cover. "oh god someone get him off he's putting his mouth on me eeew!" Exclaimed the red head recognizing the voice Kaminari pulled Bakugou and Aizawa over. They were pretty horrified, "someone fucking help me!" as quickly as possible Aizawa used his scarf to tie up Mineta and pull him off. Which gave Mina, Bakugou, and Kaminari the chance to rush to their friend. Sitting up was a petrified Eijirou Kirishima who was crying and holding his stomach. "hey hey hey babe, its okay now, grape fucker is gone  now." Kirishima still kept crying and just held onto Bakugou who wraps his arms around his boyfriend. "Baby where are your pants?" Bakugou knew his lover wouldn't walk around with out his pants even if Mineta wasn't around. Asui came over holding his sweat pants and boxers holding them out to Bakugou. "H-he p-pants m-m-me" Stammered out Eijirou who cried into Bakugou's strong comforting chest. Bakugou was ready to commit murder but right now he needed to focus on his crying love. The blond took his pants from Asui with a look that said 'Thank you' with out him saying it. "I'm taking him back up stairs" Bakugou states while picking up Kirishima bridal style, the boy sniffled softly while Aizawa nods. "If he needs to go to recovery girl please let me know. I will be handling Mineta" The raven haired teacher glared down at his captured student who was still drooling over his small taste of his own desires. Bakugou takes Kirishima into the elevator then to his dorm. When in Kirishima's dorm, Bakugou set him on the bed. "I'll take a shower with you okay" Kirishima only nods, he felt disgusting feeling sick to his stomach again, not just from the pain but from what had just happened to him. Grabbing some fresh clothes from both dorms, Bakugou took Kirishima to the bathroom to shower. While undressing Kirishima couldn't help but feel as if he'd been violated but didn't know whether he was being hormonal and dramatic. He held his arms over his chest to cover himself from Bakugou, who sensed his partner's distress. Taking him into the hot sauna of a shower Bakugou pulled him into a deep, melting kiss. Kirishima shyly kissed back which made Bakugou happy. "I'm sorry that fucking parasite waste of space did that to you, but I'm here now.." Kirishima whimpered softly "I-I feel so violated, I feel like a girl, the way he spoke about my body doing so i-..I feel sick."  Bakugou brought Kirishima into a hug which lead to him crying more while Bakugou gave him soothing loving back rubs and whispered soft caring words. "You're not a girl, you're a handsome, sexy boy. You're strong and manly nothing will change that I promise." It took a bit before they got out of the bathroom, lots of back rubs, temple kisses, and a bit of Bakugou almost getting thrown up on. Kirishima was still in a sports bra and sweats before leaving the bathroom Bakugou answered his phone to Mina. "what is it pinky?" "yo there's a bag of stuff you left down stairs, also Kirishima's popcorn is burnt  I made him a new bag. want me to bring it up or are you coming back down?" "tch I'll come down to fucking get it." Kirishima looked confused but Bakugou then answered his curious boyfriend. "I've got somethings for you that I'd left down stairs. Why don't you go and get comfortable I'll be up in a minute." Eijirou nods and heads into his room, sitting on the bed, sighing and trying to relax and ignore his on going cramps. Down stairs Bakugou fixed up kiri's bag of popcorn the way he knew the other liked it, even if it did seem like diabetes in a bag. He put a Gatorade in the fridge after putting Eijirou's name on it using a sticky note and marker. Then using their coffee maker to make hot chocolate and put it into a thermos, he made sure Denki didn't steal Eijirou's pringles like the last time. Kaminari came up and sat on the counter watching the ash blond. "How's he doing, he seemed pretty scared earlier?" "tch, he's fucking fine dunce face, just dealing with things" It wasn't hard for Denki to know what Bakugou meant by 'Things' so he didn't have to ask too much about it. "why does he like salty popcorn so much?" "I don't fucking know, he craves salty stuff." Bakugou shrugged, when he was ready he grabbed everything and headed back up to Kirishima's dorm once again. Getting to his room, he sees Eijirou shakily clutching his stomach, Katsuki couldn't help but feel bad for his boyfriend who seemed to be in a great deal of pain. "Hey Ei I've got some stuff that might help you feel better."  Climbing onto the bed, Bakugou sets all the items down on the dresser. Gingerly pulling Eijirou into his taller frame, a soft groan slips from Eijirou's soft lips. "I know you don't feel good babe, just try and relax." Katsuki's voice was gentle and quiet, it held a warm caring tone that seemed to help Eijirou who sighed into him. "First things first, I've got snacks, chips, your pop corn, there's a Gatorade in the fridge and I made you hot chocolate. though you should drink this protein shake just so you can take your pills because pop corn isn't solid food." Katsuki grabbed a vanilla flavored protein shake, opened it and gave it to Kirishima, who sips on it for a while before taking his pain medicine. Moving onto the popcorn, Kirishima put some into his mouth before looking like he'd entered heaven again. "yummy~" Bakugou honestly didn't know how his boyfriend could eat something so salty, but he never questioned it. Kirishima ate through his Pop corn and drank his hot chocolate to distract himself from the pain. Still quietly whining and whimpering, Bakugou then whispered to the other knowing he had a head ache. "want me to do the thing again?" Kirishima knew what Bakugou meant and nodded, so now Bakugou warmed up his right hand like a heating pad and pressed it on Kirishima's stomach. Kirishima softly trailed it down to where his burning ovaries, sighing in content which meant it was helping. "Thank you Katsu" Bakugou gave his cheek a kiss "no problem Ei" Kirishima ended up asleep not long afterwards.

Once in Rockfield Farm (3/5)

summary; 🤡🔫

word count; 4 970

disclaimers; this is my least fave chapter don’t ask me why. tell me what u think please i’m so conflicted !!

warnings; nopeee

part 1

part 2

********

By the ridiculous number of plaques of the albums' sellings and accomplishments hanging along the corridors, it was quite obvious that EMI moved a lot of money.

With your middle finger, you went over the edge of one of the paintings. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on it.

The boys’ manager and lawyer invited you to wait for them outside.

Roger’d already warned you that they wouldn’t allow you to be present. Not that you cared or wanted to. But at some point you were growing tired of sitting alone doing absolutely nothing.

Once they abandoned the office after what seemed an endless time, you immediately hauled yourself to your feet.

“You’ll kiss the floor we step on as soon as we introduce you to A Night at the Opera, my dear," Freddie told Foster as he left the room.

Ray followed the grandiose Freddie with his eyes, a bit of mistrust in his face.

"I very much hope so" he answered before closing the door.

"It went well?" you asked to no one in particular, holding your purse against your tummy.

"We think so" Brian murmured.

"He doesn't believe we're going to present him the best album in history," Freddie bragged confidently as if it were definite that they were going to do so.

"Will you? Create the best album in history?" you smirked.

"Yep," John replied with all the sincerity in the world, leading the way to the elevator.

Roger stood beside you as the group left the building behind, and pulled a pack of ciggies out his pocket. In record time, he brought one urgently to his lips.

"You don’t think we can?" he inquired you, aiming the other way before blowing the smoke out.

You extended your hand and he understood the message.

Before shoving the package back, he took out another one, and with the cig hanging immobile in your mouth, Roger lit it for you.

At that exact moment, while he was concentrated on the task, you realized how long and thick his lashes were.

"I haven’t said such thing"

"Lovebirds, when you’re done with whatever it is you have to do, come to Mary's”

Roger nodded at Freddie’s words.

Posterior to waving the other three goodbye, you glanced at him with a puzzled expression.

"Right. This way"

"What are we doing?"

"Do you always have to ask questions?"

"And do you always have the habit of not answering when being asked?" you objected.

"When we get there you'll know it"

"You’re impossible" you groaned, and quickened your pace.

He took a new puff on the cigarette and looked at you jubilantly, pushing his tongue into his cheek, enjoying your harmless tantrum a little too much.

If only you knew how much he loved these domestic moments with you.

"Not that much, believe me"

In what sense is that addressed, even?

Although you didn’t speak much because Roger was intent on not getting lost, obediently following the instructions Clare had patiently listed him the night before, from time to time you exchanged a word to fill the silence.

You really appreciated the stroll. The last couple of weeks it’d been home-uni-home-uni-home-uni. You’d missed the active streets of London, the continuous loop of the loud noises and the accent.

"I think we’ve got to turn to the right"

He didn’t seem completely sure of his own words, and because of how fast his eyes moved from side to side, you knew he was struggling.

Eventually, he managed to ubicate himself.

"We have to cross the park and technically we’ll be able to see it"

"You'll see it, you mean. I don’t know what there is to see"

Roger rolled his eyes and put his hand on your lower back to guide you.

Checked first if it was okay to go ahead, and ignoring that the light was red, you passed the zebra crossing together.

Bringing you back to an old memory, it made you recall how several weeks ago you witnessed the boyfriend of a classmate of yours do the same with her with hectic traffic when they were late for their class. Nevertheless, it was also something a father could do with his daughter.

Why were you spinning around the matter? Nonsense.

But it was cute that he kept you close while crossing the street, though. Had it been a reflex action or had he been fully aware of doing so?

The thread of your thoughts caused you to space out, and as a result you didn't notice until then that you were approaching the exit of the aforementioned park.

Your heart enlarged a couple of sizes when he nonchalantly slipped his hand out of your back to entangle his pinkie with yours.

The pulsations your heart kept on producing were hard, so hard they hurt. Persistent and quick like a hummingbird’s flap.

As lightly and subtle as he did, you slowly proceed to move your fingers and hold his hand in its entirety, both of you looking ahead as if looking at each other would turn out to be too much right now.

It all felt too intimate, hands being the only method you used to talk to one another during the remaining bit of the walk until the final destination.

Roger stopped walking, and you did too.

You fixed your eyes on the store window before them: there were two mannequins wearing sets that genuinely caught your attention. From where you were stood, the store seemed to be empty. Sign that it was expensive. The walls inside were painted with neat white, thin golden lines forming patterns on the walls. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, so large that you were surprised it stayed in place without falling off, dragging the roof along with it.

You looked suspiciously at Roger.

"What are we doing here?"

“See if you find out yourself. After you," suggested Roger, and as on the day you met, gesticulated you to go first.

A tune rang in the background announcing your arrival after you stepped right in. It made the employee’s head lift up. She left her position behind the cashier and walked towards you. Her outfit was all white with a golden headband, matching the drawings on the walls and the rest of the store.

When the three of you were together, you noticed that both of you wearing heels surpassed Roger by a few tiny inches. It didn’t seem to bother him, perhaps he didn’t even detect it.

"Good morning. How can I help you?"

"Clare’s friend?" Roger asked.

"Oh, Roger and (Y/N), I’m guessing. Very well, come with me"

The girl marched away, Roger with her.

He turned around and stopped when he saw you hadn’t moved.

"Ay, what's all this?" you whispered, not wanting the woman to hear you as not to be impolite.

And who the hell was Clare?

Roger grinned.

"This is my surprise"

Head in a muddle, you let Roger lead you to a small room filled with clothing items where the saleswoman’d been waiting for you.

A tray of tea and freshly made biscuits filled the air with a nice scent of sweet and salty.

"Our firm is not particularly well known for its catalogue of dresses, we rather excel at accessories such as handbags and glasses. Either way, I hope you find one you like. Anything you need, call me"

In the blink of an eye she was gone.

"Roger, care to explain?" you asked after a pause, looking around.

"Yesterday you mentioned you didn't have your graduation dress. I know your father's behaviour saddened you, I thought this would cheer you up"

"Shopping? Don’t tell me that, Roger. I didn’t take you for a sexist"

He looked like if you just hit him across the face.

"No... I never... I didn’t mean... I just wanted to have a nice touch, to buy it to thank you for—"

"I'm messing with you. Of course I don't think you're a sexist. I know very well you did it with the best of— What did you say? Buy it?"

Wide-eyed, you were shaking your head no.

"Yes. Buy it"

"Why would you do that?"

"To thank you for your hospitality"

Also because Roger simply wanted to give you the world, but since it's something that takes time, he decided this was a way to start. But he meant what he said: adopting four crazy and weird children for months… no one in their goddamn right mind would have agreed to that.

The first couple of following days after their arrival, having very little confidence around any of them, you didn’t really hang out together. Still and all, after some time but soon enough, you learnt that the four of them were warmhearted, fun and loving people.

"I know how hard you’re working to earn that diploma. We’re proud of you"

"Roger, you already pay me a rent. And I know you are, but it’s not necessary. You don’t have to do this, I can pay for it myself” you said too quickly.

“I know you can” he shrugged, letting you know he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Because of the look he was giving you, all defensive, you knew he already made the decision.

Arguing was only going to make you lose a valuable amount of time you could invest in killing the curiosity raised by the outstanding dresses displayed out front.

Following Roger's orders to take a good look at them, you picked three that you thought were pretty and elegant. One was black and the other two different shades of blue.

When you glanced up at Roger to tell him you were done choosing, he was no longer on the small sofa near the fitting room devouring the biscuits like the last time you saw him.

A one-sided grin lifted the corner of your mouth when you spotted him snooping on the other side of the room, rummaging through the dresses as well to be occupied. By his expression of absolute concentration it seemed that he was really putting effort and interest in the mission beforehand.

He turned around unexpectedly and smiled delightedly at you.

Every time he did smile like that, you could feel your soul leaving your body.

From time to time you had these intermissions where the world around you gradually began to slow down, Roger Taylor as your only source of light.

It was one of those.

"I have these," you said shyly after some time of you two staring at each other. "Have you found any I could try on?"

“Not really”

Seventeen minutes since you entered the dressing room. Roger was bored.

“Can I see?”

“No. The black one’s so ugly on me” you roared, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You’re not being objective. Let me see”

“No”

“You look gorgeous”

You quickly turned on your heels, ready to hit him in the head for not listening, but he was nowhere to be seen. How the hell…?

“How can you tell?”

“I just know”

You laughed it off, blushing.

“So cheesy”

“But you’re smiling”

“Roger! Are you seeing me?” you asked, staring intently at every part of the curtain to see if maybe there was a tiny hole in it where he’d been peeking at you.

“No, but I can hear it in your voice”

“Shut up” you giggled.

“Can I see now?”

“No, you can’t”

God.

You weren’t sure about this.

You weren’t sure about this at all.

Roger taking the credit card out of his wallet to pay for something that was not going to be his but yours made you all flustered and uncomfortably red as hell itself in the face.

You took his hand before he could pass it to the woman.

“(Y/N), stop” he chuckled and gave her the card anyway.

He pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek so casually, like if said actions didn’t have consequences. Hello? Your heart combusting, perhaps?

“There you go,” the woman handed him the bag, “tell your sister I said hi”

“I will” Roger nodded.

“Your sister? Clare?”

"Uh-huh"

“Younger or older?”

“Younger”

"You didn't tell me you had a younger sister," you said as you two initiated your way to Mary's.

"You didn't ask. Aren't you gonna tell me which dress you've chosen?" he cocked an eyebrow at you. "I paid for it, I believe I have the right to—"

You wanted him to see it the day of the ceremony, to make it a surprise as well.

"Please don't remind me you bought it. It's embarrassing"

Roger snorted a chuckle.

“Oh my God, woman. You’re so worried about it”

"We've got to be frank here. Mary told me you guys are broke, because you had issues with… whoever in the past. And now you take me to an upper high-class store to buy me a dress. Don't take me wrong, but I just don’t get it”

“Don’t have to swear on it” he noted quietly to the last part.

You sure weren’t getting anything.

“We firmed a contract we shouldn’t have. Life goes on and we’re with Rheid now, about to launch a masterpiece that will change our lives forever. Every penny he’s given us is for the album, but I know it’s gonna pay off. Of the little I had left from before, I wanted to do this. It’s my money. I do whatever the fuck I want with my money”

You didn’t say anything, perplexed.

He wished you'd understand the real reason why he wanted to make you happy. To cover your whims. To take care of you.

“So,” you spoke after a while, breaking the ice, “A Night at the Opera”

“Freddie’s suggestion. Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s weird, but it sounds like Queen”

He grinned.

//

Freddie said that enough was enough, that they deserved to disconnect from work for the group’s sanity.

They were getting ready at Mary’s to head to the nearest pub –putting it in his words— to dance until their feet bled and hopefully drink like psychopaths. He dictated how disappointed he’d be in them if they didn’t wake up naked and hangover in the middle of nowhere.

He was now in the bathroom applying black eyeliner to John.

“Can we come?”

Mary and you opted for a chill sleepover at first, but you changed your mind and managed to persuade her to go out as well, telling her you couldn’t remember the last time you went partying together.

Brian and John didn’t speak up, expecting Roger to do. When you saw that neither of them were saying a word, you turned your gaze towards him. He was wearing a seemingly chill unbothered facade, pushing aside how your request had tickled his stomach.

"Sure" Roger replied, mouth curving into a perfect smile.

Mary told you you could choose whatever you wanted from her closet in case you wanted to change to a more appropriate outfit for the occasion.

The two of you hurried upstairs.

It was evident that once you were there you were gonna dance all freaking night, so you picked a pair of denim bell-bottoms to be comfortable, a basic top, and kept the pair of black heels you had on already. Then you ran to touch up a little the makeup you had previously put on in the morning, adding a bit of glitter to your cheekbones.

Listening to the front door open and Freddie screaming to get your fat asses down there, Mary rushed to put a sparkly belt on while both of you trotted down the stairs.

“We’re coming!” you shouted, jumping to skip the last three rungs.

Sliding the back of your hand across the forehead to remove the sweat, you took Mary by the arm and escorted her to the opposite end of the pub, fleeing from the group of girls who were screaming at you for having spilt drink on them by accident. Mary tried not to fall while you made your way through the congregation of people going against your flow.

You raised your arms and kept dancing carefreely, ignoring the looks of all kinds you received.

Mary knew she’d never be on the same level as you. Her knees were begging to stop, meanwhile you were as fresh as a rose. It didn’t seem like you’d been dancing for over two hours without a break.

The boys, even Freddie, had also thrown in the towel a while ago.

"(Y/N), I'm going with Freddie!" Mary shouted, grasping you by the shoulder.

"What about me?"

"Come, I’m not keen on leaving you on your own" with this said, she began to gently push you towards where the boys were.

You were careful not to stumble since the drinks you had consumed earlier were already coming into effect. The purple, yellow and blue lights that illuminated the area disorientated you, so without question you let Mary lead you.

"Mary, I've saved you a seat, darling" Freddie said, patting the empty space next to him.

You frowned when you saw there was no room left for you in the booth.

"Shit”

John laughed when he heard the disappointment in your drunken voice.

Roger didn’t stutter. He held your hand and sat you on his lap.

"I don’t like this posture. Your thigh will hurt you, y’know what I mean?" you slurred.

Yet your actions were contradictory, because you moved to squeeze against him, too exhausted all of a sudden.

"I'll handle it," he murmured, fighting the instincts that grew inside him to touch you everywhere.

Fiddling with your necklace, you looked at the people on the dance floor.

You’d been wasting your time with them, bizarrely enjoying being so proximate to Roger more.

Speaking of the devil, the bastard had unbuttoned his shirt at some point.

The top you wore had its back completely uncovered; as a result, your sticky skin collided with his. Not that you complained, in fact, the contact made you horny. Could it possibly be that you were just dreadfully drunk and that your five senses were way more sensitive than usual? And that it didn’t have anything to do with Roger?

You’d been secretly having lascivious dreams concerning him for a hot minute, but resigned to admire from a distance. So no, he absolutely was the one to blame.

Roger waved his glass of tequila, offering you some.

As you were already drunk from the shots you had with John as soon as you stepped in, when you threw your head back to swallow til the very last drop, a lot of the liquid dripped down the sides of your mouth, staining your top and wetting your neck.

You laughed, clearly too tipsy to be upset.

Roger watched you attentively.

Many inappropriate thoughts seized him as he saw the liquid running down your collarbone.

You deposited the glass back on the table.

“You won’t be dancing anymore?” Roger asked.

“Perhaps at another time. I like it here”

“I like it too” he replied, and added in a small voice the following request hoping you wouldn’t get to hear it through the music. “Don’t leave”

You listened without interest as Brian and Freddie exchanged opinions on whether they should or shouldn't add a guitar solo in an almost finished song. John looked at them as if it were a tennis match, throwing glances at Mary from time to time that she returned. They knew they had to act before they started an argument, so Mary proposed to go dance some more.

Freddie followed her, and you saw him complaining to her about Brian's last-minute changes. John gestured Brian for the two of them to leave the booth as well, pointing discreetly with his thumb back to Roger and you: Brian understood.

"They’ve abandoned us" you stated, staring at your friends walking away until they were no longer in sight.

Now it was you sitting on the leather sofa, with Roger tucked between your legs –clearly if he sat on your lap he wouldn’t even last five minutes because you wouldn’t put up with it any longer than that, so it wasn’t worth a try—.

You had your feet against the edge of the table, legs wide apart to make room for him. At first he wasn’t sure, but quickly changed his mind when your fingers slipped into his hair, lazily massaging his scalp.

The idea occurred when he proved your point, telling you to sit on his left thigh because the other was getting numb.

He was in a trance, and felt his eyelids heavier by every second, not because he was sleepy but because of the pleasure.

“Fuck” Roger muttered thoughtlessly with his eyes closed, catching you off guard.

A sudden increase in your heartbeat, now irregular, rattled you.

“Wh-what?”

Embarrassment crept up his face when you stopped.

“Sorry, I don’t know what was that, it just felt good and—“

Your core was throbbing. You were so confused but so pumped at the same time.

“You want me to continue?”

He turned his head and scanned your features. He definitely didn't expect that, thought you'd want him to get off you instantly.

The intense eye contact that followed earned you another electrifying whip that shook every corner of your body.

When Roger went back to his initial position, you smiled mischievously.

He had to keep biting back his moans throughout the entire thing.

The mixture of alcohol running at an unrestrained rhythm through your veins, including how dangerously turned on you were by Roger’s constant heavy breaths, pushed you to take a step further: you traced your finger along the curve of his jawline, painfully slow, and with the tip of your nose you drew patterns on his neck, observing hungrily his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard.

Roger looked up at the ceiling and attempted to count its tiles. Anything that'd distract him from having a boner, really.

"You good?" you teased with a smile, whispering near his ear.

"I wish I could answer honestly"

"Do it, I won’t judge"

He ran a hand through his golden hair, feeling really irritated that this was happening now, where he couldn’t rip your clothes off.

Saying he was having a hard time keeping it together doesn’t do justice to the reality of how much he had to retain himself.

"Say it" you insisted, intrigued.

In a hoarse whisper, pretty much thanks to the alcohol and the inebriety that your touch drowned him in, he grew the balls to actually say what was crossing his mind.

“I’ve never had the urge to taste a woman this bad”

You grinned, and that throbbing kept escalating.

“Oh, Rog. You couldn’t be any more subtle, could you?” you laughed, burying your hand one more time in the mess that his hair was, pulling it.

Literally, you couldn’t control yourself.

It’s his fault!, claimed a voice in your head. For being too fucking irresistible.

"Don't" he desperately groaned, taking your hand in his.

He sat straight.

“Why?”

Roger gave a small sexy laugh, and he turned to look at you in the eye, shoving the hair back of his face.

“Wanna hear me say it or feel it yourself instead?”

“(Y/N)”

A bad feeling that you did something terrible sunk in when you saw Mary towering over you, her mouth set in a line.

If yours'd been watering seconds ago because of Roger's cock being hard because of you, now it was as arid as the Sahara desert.

"I need a ‘you-know-what’," she said, the ‘you-know-what’ item usually being a tampon. This time it was only a petition for you to follow her quickly, “come with me”

Once inside a bathroom stall, she locked the door and sat on top of the toilet seat, crossing her arms and looking at you as if you were the biggest crackhead in the world.

"What the fuck was that? What were you thinking? What was all that about?" she argued.

"I don’t understand a word you’re saying"

"If I’d gotten there just ONE second later you’d be sucking him dry right now. Don’t play dumb with me, (Y/N)”

You leant your back against the door.

"Mary, cutie, this conversation’s stupid"

She put her hands on her hips. It made you giggle that she was so angry.

"I already explained to you what Roger is like. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll forget you and drool over the next one" she hissed matter-of-factly.

"Why are you acting like I’m in love with him or something? We’re adults having a good time. If there’s physical attraction, why shouldn’t we able to fuck?"

She winced, and focused on the first question only.

“You aren’t?”

You furrowed your brow. Okay, maybe the conversation was more serious than you thought. Alcohol slowing your brain down didn’t help the situation either.

“You’re being weird”

“And you’re being an asshole! Are you even listening to me? Roger’s a—“

“What?! What is he, Mary?! Enlighten me! And I do listen to you, always! Sure I remember me phoning you after that day I sang ‘All Too Well’ to him and you saying I shouldn’t get too close. But he’s been nothing but nice to me, M. He’s polite, funny, sweet… What the hell did he do to you?” you asked, staring at her with a look of incredulity, not recognizing the person in front of you.

“To me? What he did to endless women that once were in your place. He’s used them all and he’ll use you too”

When she pointed an accusing finger at your chest, where the heart is, you could feel yours dropping.

That you liked each other physically was undeniable, but what you didn’t know was that you cared about him so intensely. When and how did that happen?

It was true that out of Queen he was the one you talked to the most and the one you had the best time with, always joking and finding interesting subjects to talk about. Above everything else, he became a confidant. And it felt mutual up until now.

Had he been toying with you just to get in your pants?

“But… he helped me cope with my dad, and…”

“And what was he supposed to do?”

“And today…,” speaking was so hard. You were scared you’d choke clumsily with your own saliva, “today he bought me a dress. For my graduation”

Mary’s strong gaze changed, and she pulled herself to her feet. You swore something was eating her alive internally, but she was good at pretending she had it all together.

“Buying your love and attention. I saw it coming”

Mary let a calculated pause set between you two.

“You’re my best friend, (Y/N). I don’t enjoy doing this. I… I want to protect you”

She sighed and left when you didn’t open your mouth.

A couple of minutes later, you did too.  Staring at yourself in the smudged mirror, you couldn’t tell whether you needed to go home or have twenty more drinks.

“Finally” you suddenly heard Roger say. He hugged you from behind right away, stopping you from literally rushing to John to tell him you wanted to leave. “I missed you, love”

Although you noticed your pulse rapidly accelerating, Mary's words seemed to be floating through your mind with a big neon sign with the word “alert” above them. She’d known Roger for a longer period of time than you did, and saw every lover appear and vanish whenever he found a new interest.

It just… You had to accept that one way or another, Roger was most likely to create damage.

“I want to go home, I’m wasted”

“Go home? We’re having a good time” he pulled you closer once again, his hands resting on your stomach.

He debated whether to bite your earlobe or not. One second later, he went for it.

You moaned. Loud. You wanted him to do it again.

“No, stop” you turned around and took two steps backwards, convincing you it was for the best.

He looked nothing but shattered.

“What’s the matter?”

“Forget what happened earlier. It was foolish”

Roger blinked too many times. He didn’t want to believe that you were being serious.

However, you looking everywhere but him was everything he needed to confirm you meant it.

Anger, exasperation and hurt clouded his face.

“So, we were this close” he began, his thumb and forefinger almost touching, “to make out about ten minutes ago, and now you want me to simply pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Well, I don’t want to ‘make out’ anymore, easy as that”

“I just can’t fucking wrap my head around it” he snapped.

It wasn’t about making out or not: he enjoyed your company and loved the way you made him feel when you were together. And he thought… you felt the same.

His heart was pounding so fast in his chest he thought he’d suffer a stroke.

You lapsed into silence, broken only by the one thing that made Roger understand why you were rejecting him.

“All girls swoon for you. Find another one to spend the night with, it won’t take you long, really. And please do forget about whatever happened between us in the booth”

It sounded way crueller than you wanted to. You wished you could take it back, but what's done cannot be undone.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything for a while.

Knuckles white and breathing uneven, Roger got closer and bent forward invading your personal space.

“Assuming I’m a womanizer, eh?” he replied coldly, jaw hard.

Curling up into a ball and crying never appealed to you that much before.

“Don’t worry. I will”

********

tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring

Dance prt.2 - Hwang Hyunjin smut

Request: More Hyunjin smuts please??? OmG I died reading ur last one ugh ur mind Maybe a pt 2 the one u just wrote hc I’m hella curious to see how they danced after that ahah

Description: Its competition day! After the day in the practice room, yours and Hyunjins days were spent practicing, going in dates, or exploring each others bodies. After performing your dance things get heated in your dressing room.

Warnings: filthy-ish, dirty talking, unprotected sex, pulling out method (Don't be silly wrap your willy), cursing, dom!hyunjin, fluffy towards the end.

Pairing: Hyunjin x (fem) reader

Prev

Today was the day. It was competition day, you and Hyunjin were standing back stage shaking with excitement while watching the others perform. These past few weeks were spent practicing, going on dates, and of course having lots of sex.To say you guys fit perfectly together wasn't enough. You guys already had a while lot of chemistry, from being friends for 13 years, but now that chemistry was turned into a deeper.

"Alright, you two. You're on in 10, okay?" Your dance instructor says smiling brightly at the two of you.

You smile as she continues, "you guys have made so proud! The two of you are my stars, I knew you could do it"

She hugs you both before running back out to her seat and your names were called. When you head out to the stage you both bowed respectfully before getting into position. Once the music starts your attitude changes from nervous and excited, to serious and confident . (Click it)

Once the dance is over the crowd cheers loudly, you and Hyunjin linking hands and bowing before leaving the stage. Your dance instructor meets you in the dressing room and hugs you both proudly.

"Amazing, you two did amazing. Now get changed and meet me in the seats, they'll be announcing winners (haha) in a half hour, give or take" she says before leaving the room.

You smile to yourself, then turn to Hyunjin sending him a wink before walking to your dance bag and getting your change of clothes out. You lift the cropped top off of your body folding it neatly and putting it into your bag.

Hyunjin watches you from his side of the room, also folding his shirt and placing it into his dance bag when an idea pops into his head. He locks the door quickly and silently without you noticing and walks up behind you.

He takes the shirt you were changing into, putting it back into your bag making you turn around with a raised brow.

"You won't need it, it'll just get in the way right now" he says and picks you up.

Your legs wrap around his waist and he walks you over to couch set in the corner of the dressing room. He sits with you on top and immediately unclips your bra. The remaining of your clothes are thrown off leaving you both naked in a matter of seconds.

Hyunjin kisses you hard, your hands on either side of his face, while his are on your hips and ass. He pulls your body down onto him and thrust up, pushing himself into you.

"Oh god" you moan shutting your eyes in pleasure.

He looks up at you as your moans increase in volume and moves his hand to your mouth in an attempt to shush you.

"We don't wanna be caught now, do we love?" He says in a husky voice.

You moan in response and grind harder into him, his eyes widen as something clicks in his mind.

He smirks, "You'd like that wouldn't you, baby"

"You'd love for someone to hear you moaning from just my cock being buried deep into, huh?" He questions.

His thrust become more harsh but slow, your head falling onto his shoulder as your breath becomes uneven, whines spilling from your mouth.

"I didn't know you where such a dirty girl" he says as he flips you onto your back.

"Dirty girls deserve to be treated as such, don't you think?" He says as he lifts your leg over his shoulder and pounds into you.

Your back arches off of the couch as a loud moan escapes you throat at the unexpected pleasure. He was hitting new spots and hitting every angle, it felt too good and you couldn't control yourself. Your nails dug into his biceps creating little crescent marks and your teeth biting into his shoulder.

He hisses in pain and groans as it mixes with his pleasure. His hips become relentless as the sound of skin slapping against skin, moans, and loud breathing filled the room. Your hand travels down between your connected bodies only to be slapped away, Hyunjin grabbing your wrist and placing them roughly at your sides.

"You're going to cum from just my dick, do you understand?" He says sternly.

You nod grabbing the back of his neck and connecting your lips. Teeth and tongue, the kiss wasn't like the ones you shared when he'd drop you home after a date, or when you'd meet up in the practice room. Those kisses were soft and passionate, full of care. This one was lust filled, full of desperation and want.

He pushes his hand into you lower abdomen with a harsh thrust, your lips disconnecting as your jaw dropped, a loud "fuck" coming from you lips as your orgasm hit you in a new way. Your mind and vision went blank as Hyunjin continued his sloppy thrust, his orgasm washing over him soon after.

"Jesus, how are we suppose to explain this?" He ask.

"Explain what?" You ask confusion laced in your voice.

"Y/n, you squirted" he says into your chest.

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, you've never done that before. Your cheeks flare red making Hyunjin laugh.

"Hey, don't worry. I liked it and I'm definitely going to make you do it again" he says and gets up. He grabs your clothes and helps you dress, before grabbing his clothes and dressing himself.

After cleaning up the mess you two made, you both exit the room and head to the seating room.

"Jesus Christ, what took so long? They're announcing winners now" you instructor says hurrying you over.

"Sorry, noona. Y/n had to use the bathroom" Hyunjin says lying through his teeth.

The instructor doesn't seem to notice and nods averting her attention to the stage.

"We will now be announcing the senior duet winners" the announcer says.

"Third place, scoring 243 points is ... Kim Yugyeom and Im Nayeon" the crowd cheers as the two go up and collect their metal and trophy moving to stand to the side.

"Second place, scoring 287 points is ... Lee Minho and Lisa Manoban" you and Hyunjin clap and cheer for the two as they also collected their metal and trophy, standing next to third place winners.

"And now, in First place, scoring 312 points.." a drum roll starts as you hold both Hyunjins and your dance instructors hands in yours.

"Hwang Hyunjin and y/in y/n" your names were announced with a congratulation.

You jump up in victory wincing in pain, Hyunjin at this and hugs you tight, then leading you to the stage.

Metals are placed over your neck and a trophy is handed to you as you stand with Hyunjin, and the rest of the winners, for a picture.

Once the pictures were done Hyunjin places the trophy down and grabs your hands.

"Y/n , I should've asked you this weeks ago, but I never had the guys .. so ... will you be my girlfriend?" He asks shyly.

Your face brightens with a smile, your arms swing around his neck, kissing him deeply before pulling away.

"Yes! A hundred times yes!" You screamed.

→end ←

SFW A-Z Headcanons // Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt

A - Attractive what do they find attractive about the other?

Legs, legs, legs. She loves when you wear tight jeans or a short dress to show them off.

B - Baby do they want to have a family? why/why not?

There are times Coco thinks she would like to have children but those are fleeting. She knows she not mature enough to raise children, not to mention children terrify her.

C - Cat are they a cat or dog person?

She's a dog person, but a small dog person. If it is higher than her knees it makes her anxious.

D - Dates what are dates with them like?

From the outside, dates tend to appear perfect, intsa-ready and over the top, but there is always a moment where something goes wrong. Surprise thunderstorm that wouldn't have been a surprise if someone checked the local weather; a ticket for accidentally littering, losing the VIP area bracelet so you're refused re-entry at a concert, someone gets too drunk to walk home afterward.

E - Everything "you are my -------"

“You are my best friend.”

F - Feelings when did they know they were falling in love?

Coco realized she loved you when she began to think about you each time she listened to Taylor Swift. The love songs all related back to how she felt when she was around you.

G - Giggle what is their laugh like?

Her laugh is loud, she has a tendency to snort which she hates so she tries to change the way she laughs. Coco laughs at the most inappropriate thing, it's like hanging out with a middle-school-aged kid.

H - Hand/Hold how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

The only time she will hold your hand is when she's jealous. She prefers other methods of PDA.

I - Impressions first impressions

When you first met Coco at the Academy, you had heard several of the other girls talking about how spoiled and bratty she was, so you went in with guards up, already disliking her a bit. You were very short with her for a couple days until you realized, yeah she's spoiled, but she's funny.

Coco couldn't figure out what you'd done to make you not like her, so she was constantly on the offense, trying to hurt you before you hurt her. It stayed that way until one day in class, Zoe teamed you up with Coco instead of letting Coco work with Mallory. The tension melted away quickly and the two of you became quick friends.

J - Joker are they into pulling pranks?

She likes to pull pranks and they tend to be the most obnoxious kind.

K - Kisses how do they kiss?

Short and sweet kisses, her hand cupping your chin, but most often she gives butterfly kisses.

L - Little things what little things do they love/notice?

She loves when you take candid photos of her. When you text her first thing in the morning if you can't be with her, she loves that you answer your phone no matter what time she calls you.

M - Memory their favorite moment together

Her favorite memory of the two of you was the first time Mallory found out you were together. Mallory, after being prompted by Madison, asked about your relationship. Coco's heart glowed as you smiled over at her and confidently said, 'Yeah, I think we're dating?"

N - Nickel do they spoil the person they love?

She absolutely spoils you, with extravagant vacations, nice clothes, etc. Every time she goes out she ends up coming home with two bags of 'I thought of you when I saw these' items

O - Orange what color reminds them of their other half?

Yellow, bright, sunshiney yellow; But also millennial pink... and maybe lavender. An easier question to answer would be 'what color doesn't remind her of you?' The answer? gray.

P - Petnames what pet names do they use?

Outside of her relationships, Coco gloats that pet names make her sick. But she comes up with the worst pet names herself when she's in love. Honey bunny, sugar bear, angel cake, literally she uses the first two words to pop into her head at the moment.

Q - Questions what are the questions they're always asking?

"What are we doing for dinner?"

"Do we have to get out of bed?"

"Will you take a photo of me real quick for instagram?"

R - Romantic are they romantic?

She is very romantic. She plans the best dates.

S - Sad how do they cheer themselves up?

Coco makes a whole day out of cheering herself up. She will throw a face mask on, schedule a mani/pedi, order some lunch and pop open a bottle of wine while she sits on the couch in her 'gym clothes' watching either soap operas or reality tv.

T - Talking what do they love to talk about?

She can and will talk about everything for hours if she's given the chance. Specifically, things she wants to do with you. Somethings are mentioned once then never again. She likes to mention hobbies she would like to try while she scrolling mindlessly through Pinterest, 90 percent of the time she forgets about it within a matter of days.

U - Unbearable what habit do they have that's unbearable?

She is on her phone constantly, it especially bothers you when you're trying to spend time together and she's taking pictures for her Instagram story.

V - Very their thoughts about each other

Very Gorgeous, beautiful, funny, kind, intelligent. She thinks the world of you and she's not afraid to admit it. Except to Madison, when she senses weakness she goes in for the kill.

W - Why reasons they love each other

Coco knows she can be shallow and annoying sometimes, she is very insecure about how other people view her as, but you don't put up with her insecurities. You constantly, patiently, reassure her that you love her, that you would do anything in the world to keep her happy. She loves that you see her for who she really is, not just her father's money. She loves you because you love her.

X - Xylophone what's their song?

Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift or if she's feeling playful she will claim its Hands To Myself by Selena Gomez

Y - You "you're the ---- to my ----"

"You're the sun to my flower."  

Z - Zebra if they wanted a pet what would they get?

Fish. They are low maintenance.

November 4 - Sir Could Use Some Help

This is late because I fell asleep stupid early yesterday while trying to take a nap and slept through my alarm until morning. Guess I needed that. I’m still posting today’s today as well, though.

Word count: 1982

Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack, fluff-ish?

Pairing: Tony Stark X Reader-ish (nothing romantic) featuring the bots!

“Miss Y/N, I hate to interrupt, but Sir is in his lab and could use some help.”

Something about how JARVIS phrased the request caught your attention.

“Not help with something he’s working on, I take it?”

“No,” was all the AI said, and you were on your feet and rushing towards the stairs in an instant.

Pepper had hired you a year ago when she’d realized that running SI and managing Tony’s schedule were too much for one person. You had been far from the most qualified person on her list of applicants; you’d asked her once (when you’d become a bit more secure that the wrong question wouldn’t get you fired) why she’d chosen you. She told you that she’d known you could handle Tony, and you couldn’t fault her for making that a deciding factor.

You did handle him, very well in fact. Your younger brother had been similar to Tony in some ways, stubborn and very focused when he was doing what he enjoyed, and you’d developed several techniques for getting him to take breaks or do something he should do but didn’t want to. Those methods transferred over beautifully.

Right now the two of you were in Malibu. Tony had two conferences on the west coast and was using the break between them to work on the bugs in the latest version of his suit. It had been a bit of a vacation for you; while you still had things to keep track of, both of you had open schedules for the next three days. While you’d helped a couple of times with holding things when one of the bots got put in timeout (“Seriously, Tony, I know they’re your children but putting them in timeout can’t possibly be effective!”), you’d mostly been working your way through your long-neglected list of must-reads.

As you approached the lab, you looked around for Tony but couldn’t spot him. The bots were slightly back from the couch you’d insisted on adding so he could at least grab a quick nap between frantic bursts of creativity, so you angled that way when you entered.

There he was, curled up on the couch, tucked into as tight a ball he could make himself become and breathing heavily. Sweat was running down his face and his eyes were squinched so tightly you knew he’d be seeing spots when he opened them. You recognized the signs in an instant; Tony was having a panic attack.

“JARVIS,” you asked quietly, “is there some type of music that helps him calm down or relax?”

“Sir has never used music for that reason, Miss Y/N,” the AI replied.

At the mention of your name, Tony’s eyes shot open.

“Y/N? Why are you here?”

“Shh, Tony, it’s okay,” you said softly, slipping past the bots to kneel next to him. DUM-E beeped nervously behind you. “JARVIS called me. I’m here to help. JARVIS, please put on the Marconi Union album I have on my Spotify. Quietly, though.”

The soft strains of the opening of “Weightless” began to fill the background and Tony focused his gaze firmly on the opposite end of the couch.

“I’ll be fine, just give me a minute. You can go.”

“I could,” you told him, “but I’m not going to. Please look at me.”

He shook his head and you fought the urge to pull him into your arms until the trembling stopped.

“Okay, then, look around. I need you to tell me five things you see.”

“Really?” he scoffed, which would have been more effective if his voice didn’t break in the middle of the word. “You’re gonna talk me through some BS anxiety-management trope?”

“Would you rather tell me five things you see or have me call Pepper and tell her your anxiety is back? If you’re more comfortable with her I’m sure she’ll be happy to call.”

“You and your stupid manipulation tactics. I’ll be fine, just go away. I don’t want you here.”

That hurt, but you didn’t let your face show it. “I’m not leaving you alone, Tony. I’ve known you long enough to know that your brain doesn’t stop moving, which is good for inventing and bad for anxiety. You can let me talk you through this or you can let Pepper, but I’m not going to leave you to sit here and freak out the bots.”

Mentioning the bots drew his attention out of his head and back into the space around him. He looked over at where DUM-E, BUTTERFINGERS, and U were hovering, unsure what to do, and sighed.

“Fine. How many things?”

A little of the tension left your shoulders. “Five. Find five details. Walls don’t count. Neither do the bots.”

Tony gave you a shaky grin that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “You just have to make this hard, don’t you? Um, okay… There’s a wrench on the floor under my worktable.”

The bots took that as a cue to retrieve it, and rolled off in a race. U reached it first and beeped with pride when he brought it back. You took it from the eager bot and patted him on the arm.

“Thanks, but you guys don’t need to retrieve everything Tony mentions, okay?” They wilted a little at that, but you returned your attention to Tony, who had a slightly more authentic smile on his face now. “That’s good, Tony. What else do you see? Find four more details for me.”

His eyes roamed the lab. “There’s a grease spot over where I was working on my car yesterday… The light is reflecting off the helmet of my current prototype in a way that almost makes it look blue… My coffee is still on my main workbench…” He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “And there’s a bunch of cobwebs behind the lights. I should have the cleaning people take care of that.”

You smiled. “You can do that later. Okay, find four things you can touch.”

Tony slowly unwrapped one arm from around his legs and reached out to run it along the back of the couch. He looked at you for approval and you nodded.

“Good, Tony, you can feel the grain of the leather in the couch. What else can you touch around you?”

He shifted a little to grab at the blanket that was lying bunched up on the opposite end of the couch and just missed it. You leaned over and caught it, bringing it back to him, and he grasped it from your hands, pulling it in close.

“That’s right, you can feel the soft fuzz of the blanket. What else?”

Tony’s eyes shot to the wrench you were still holding and you passed it to him, watching as he ran his fingers over the smooth metal before gripping it in his hand.

“Jarvis – the original human Jarvis – got me this in a full tool kit when I was five,” he said softly. “My mom thought getting me real tools was crazy, but my dad waved off her concern, said I’d be fine. I used it when building my first engine.” DUM-E beeped, and Tony looked up at him. “I used it on all the bots, too, mostly on the casings; their interiors required finer tools.”

“I’m glad you have those memories,” you told him. “Can you find one more thing you can touch?”

His eyes shot to yours before slowly moving up to your hair. Before you could react, his fingers were in it, petting your head.

“So soft,” he teased, the light actually reaching his eyes this time. You made a note of the fact he wasn’t shaking anymore.

“It better be,” you joked back. “I spend too much time on it for it not to be. How about three things you can hear?”

“That awful music you have JARVIS playing,” Tony grimaced. “Why do you have this, anyway?”

“Don’t you dare mock this album,” you shot back, not actually mad but pouting anyway. “It’s the only song that’s been clinically proven to reduce anxiety. I can’t remember where I read that, but I downloaded it right after. It helps me fall asleep.”

“Of course it does. That’s because it’s boring.” You were about to remind him he still had two other sounds to find when he continued, “The air conditioning just kicked on. I can hear that.”

“Good,” you nodded. “One more sound.”

“DUM-E?”

At the mention of his name, the bot perked up and beeped. Tony shot you a grin.

“I just heard DUM-E.”

“Cheater,” you accused, glad he was relaxing. The banter was coming without effort now, and he was relaxing across the couch rather than being curled up on it. “Almost done. Two things you can smell.”

“Motor oil and your perfume. It smells like incense and sandalwood. I like it; it suites you.”

Based on his smirk, you didn’t quite succeed in hiding the surprise that flashed across your face, but you recovered quickly.

“Thanks. Pepper bought it for me for my birthday. She has good taste.”

“That she does,” he agreed. “And speaking of taste…”

You put your hand over his mouth as he tried to lean in and flashed a smirk back. “U, please go get Tony his coffee.”

“You’re no fun,” the genius laughed, leaning back into the couch and taking the coffee when the bot brought it to him. He took a sip and grimaced. “That’s way colder than I thought it would be. How long have I been down here?”

A glance at your phone gave a frame of reference for the question. “It’s been twelve hours since I last dragged you out of here for some sleep. I guess that depends on how long you waited before sneaking back down here or if you actually got some sleep.”

“Don’t sleep so well,” he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s easier to work.”

“Yeah, well easier isn’t always better, and you know that. You wouldn’t have made most of your inventions if you didn’t.” You braced yourself on the armrest of the couch and stood up, wincing at the pain in your knees from spending so long on the hard floor. “Now that you seem to be doing better, I’ll head back to my book.”

“Sure. I need to get back to my work anyway.” Tony shoved himself off the couch and rubbed the back of his neck. A slow smirk worked its way back across his face. “If you want me to find one more thing to taste, we could always kiss.”

“I’ll see you in two hours with food, Tony,” you called over your shoulder as you exited.

The genius smiled at your back as you retreated before turning back to his worktable. With a brief flash of irritation, he realized he was humming along with the music.

“JARVIS, why did you call Y/N here? I’ve survived those just fine on my own.”

“Yes, you usually handle them so well,” the AI replied dryly. “It has been my observation, Sir, that Y/N is quite adept at dealing with her own panic attacks. I assumed the skill could transfer to helping another person easily enough.”

Tony stilled his movements. “Y/N has panic attacks?”

“A few times a week.”

“I never knew.”

The AI sounded disapproving, and Tony wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or at you. “She is very good at covering when they happen and excuses herself from the room as quickly as possible. I wouldn’t know myself if I couldn’t read her vitals.”

Tony thought for a moment before going back to his work. He’d pay better attention to you, he decided. Next time you suddenly left a room, he was going to have to check with you. Maybe he’d get a chance to return the favor.

You are a fighter; Newt Scamander x teen sister reader

Well this request comes from a very specific anon whose messages you all may have read lately about Crohn’s disease. I did about as much research as I could so for anyone suffering this type of disease or any other anatomy diseases just know this YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL AND A FIGHTER. I hope this is to your liking anon and remember you are in my prayers and I’ll be thinking of you, never be afraid to reach out to me again sometime, I’ll do my best to make u feel beautiful once more (though how could that be possible when YOU ALREADY ARE yah lovely duckling) lots of hugs and Newt Scamander kisses sending your way dearie ALWAYS KEEP FIGHTING :)

So warnings are insecurities, body shaming, scars, mentions of self-harm (not gruesome detail but it’s there), some angst but over all MAJOR NEWT FLUFFINESS and lovely Big brother!Newt :)

____________________________________________________________

I was leaning up against the wall gripping my stomach tightly trying to get past the pain once more.  I can’t remember when exactly it started maybe I was born with it but I was told that I had an immune system disease known as Crohn’s disease.  An inflammatory bowel disease that affects the intestines.  Before my family had taken me to the hospital I had a loss of appetite like I wouldn’t eat at all and if I had to it was maybe only once or twice a week.

Due to that I was also losing weight fast and not in the healthy way and after one time after collapsing out in the field right by mother’s Hippogriff stable in such agonizing pain I was feeling in my stomach and lower abdomen and it was after that they all took me to the hospital and that’s when we received the bad news.

For about a year and a half now, I have had over 5 surgeries to try and contain this disease but even when it would heal it, it always came back.  Now to mention that I was left completely scarred all over my body especially around my stomach.

And due to all the surgeries, I’ve been so self-conscious and insecure about myself. Everytime I look into the mirror and see the scars, I just want to destroy my mirror with magic because through the mirror I see the muggle fiction character Frankenstein’s creature. Like I was created by multiple parts of different decaying muggles.  I stay up in my dorm room most of the days in my time at Hogwarts and barely talk to anyone because I feared that if they found out the scars, they’d team up and make fun of me and call me a freak, especially the Slytherins and the Gryffindor’s.

But it was now the Christmas break and I immediately took the first train back home and it was there I met my older brother Newt.  Yes the now famous Magizoologist and author of “Fantastic Beasts and where to find them” is my big brother.  He’s always been there for me ever since I was diagnosed and has always tried his best to make me feel better in his own unique way.

I was currently helping my brother down in his case with some of his creatures. Besides himself and the friends he’s told me about that he made when he was in America, he’s always told me that I was welcome to go inside his case and take care of his children.

As I was feeding the mooncalves their pellets of food, I looked up at the moon and just admired it.  Such beauty and radiance that shines in the night, even in the dark the moon still shows its beauty and is never afraid to do it, unlike me. I would rather continue to hide in shame in the shadows until I completely disappeared.  One of the mooncalves looked at me with its big wide blue eyes solemnly so I gently patted its head before leaving the habitat.

I paced hastily towards the shed and quickly walked up the steps of the ladder and left the case and hurried into my room and shut the door.  I placed my back against the door before sniffling and soon sliding down the floor and wept into my knees.

“(Y/n)? Poppet are you alright?” I heard my big brother’s voice say.

“Please g-go away Newt”.

“I can’t do that love, I know that if I did you’d hurt yourself, remember?” I had almost wanted to relieve the pain by slicing a knife across my wrist but if it hadn’t been for Newt coming into my room right as I had placed the blade to my skin, I would’ve gone through with it in a heartbeat but he stopped me and I spent the rest of the night crying in his arms till I passed out.

“It’s still the same Newt! I can’t—I can’t fight anymore. I just….can’t fight anymore….I’m ugly, I’m tainted and repulsive….how do…..why do you believe in me so much Newt? Why?”

“(Y/n), I’ll answer all those questions and clear those doubts for you. But you’ve got to open the door, please love let me in. I can’t solve this with a door between us”. I remained still for a while till finally I managed to get up and I opened the door and there stood my brother looking up at me like Pickett whenever he’s separated from my brother. “Come sit with me darling,” he led me over to my bed and the two of us sat down side by side each other and he continued, “First of all I will start by saying you can’t give up fighting”.

“Newt—”

“No let me finish, you can’t give up fighting because then I would have failed as an older brother. From the moment you were born, I made a vow to always protect and care for you, I already failed not protecting you from something that hurts you internally, but I vowed to make sure that I would be there for you to help you fight this Crohn’s disease”.  He then took my hand and slowly pushed up my sleeve to reveal on to the old scars I had from my second surgery and he said, “These marks right here, we both have something in common,” he then rolled up his sleeve to reveal his scars not only just from taking care of his creatures, but one long scar in particular came from the War he fought in the Eastern front. “These scars show us that we are survivors. Survivors of torment and pain, we are fighters. Proud fighters you and me both till the end of the line”.

“Really?”

“Yes, time and time again and with every new scar you gain, it shows me that you continue to come out alive. I’ve never doubted that in you. I always said that you’d become the strongest witch I have ever seen, and I was right”. He lifted my chin up and said as he first stroked my hair out of my face before pressing his hand against my heart, “You have the heart of a Thunderbird, and the soul of a Dragon. You are the bravest soldier I have ever had the honor of fighting alongside with, because that is you who are sister dear”.

I looked up at my brother with tears slipping down my face. He gently wiped them away and said.

“I do hope those are happy tears”.

“They are Newt”.

“Good, otherwise I would have to resort to the alternative method that always got a smile out of you”. I was then gently tackled down against my bed and felt my brother’s fingers starting to tickle my sides.  I laughed out hysterically as my brother kept tickling me, I tried to get away but he kept pulling me back towards him until finally he let me go and left me panting trying to catch my breath. “You feeling better love?”

“Yeah, thank you Newt. How do you always know what to say?”

“I’m your brother, I would do everything to make sure I would see that beautiful smile of yours at least once a day”. I smiled up at him and sat up and embraced my big brother.  I felt his arms wrap around me and the two of us remained there until it was supper time.

Even when I had my problems with my disease and even if there may not be a cure to help me, I know I at least have got one medicine that will never fail me; my big brother’s love.

No Omen, No Country’s Cause Ch. 9

You’ll LOVE this POV, guys. LOL.

AH HA HA HAH HA HA HA!

And you’ll have to wait for... stuff (no spoilers).

DON’T PUNCH ME.

Also, sorry this is late.

     Troy Reeves walked purposefully across the deck of the hangar bay, carefully composing himself. The crew must not see any shred of weakness or a lack of decorum. He straightened his jacket and set his cap. Talking with Stukov disturbed him. He was the last person he had expected to see here, or again, and one of the people he would want to least want to see ever. It had made him perversely happy to see his old rival disfigured and tainted by the race he had closely studied, but disturbing to learn that he now wielded their power. Stopping in the hallway, he pressed the button to call for a lift. Groups of soldiers, captains, and crew walked past him, their loud talking amplified by alcohol. Reeves tipped his hat to them and gave them a grit-teethed smiled. As he got in, a young ensign followed blithely behind him. Once he realized who he had boarded the elevator with, he clearly had tried to turn heel to walk out, but stopped, realizing it was too late. Reeves smiled at him. At least he registers my authority.

     “I won’t bite, ensign. What floor do you need?”

     “S-seven, sir.”

     “Seven? Crew quarters?”

     “Yes, sir. Not one for parties, sir.”

     “Good boy. Neither am I.”

     The ensign stepped off the elevator and Reeves continued to the bridge. When he got there, it was empty; they had celebrated briefly earlier, and he had given them the night off. He walked into his office. All was silent.

     Silence. He enjoyed it. Too much of his job was either loud with the sounds of war or with the sounds of mass humanity. Reeves took his meals in his office or in his quarters. With the end of their first battle and after dealing with Stukov, he needed the solitude—and he also needed to compose a message to Henri, his husband. He didn’t want to seem upset, especially when he had good news. He was alive, one, and they had taken Tarsonis. Of course, if Henri registered he was upset, he couldn’t tell him about Stukov—he couldn’t tell anyone. If Stukov’s true fate was widely known, he couldn’t imagine the fear that it would engender that someone as distinguished (it wasn’t the word he wanted to use, but he couldn’t think of another) as Stukov had been overtaken by the zerg. It would demonstrate just how dangerous the zerg were.

     He had to stop thinking about it. Reeves sat at his desk and turned on his console, positioning himself in front of the screen so that he was in range of the video feed. But then he saw he already had a message from Henri. There was no way for them to speak in real time. They would be passing each other endlessly for the entirety of the conflict. It would be an ongoing call and response conversation. Henri had gotten the first word in. Reeves opened the message. In the study of their home in Charleston, Henri sat, his arms draped over his cello on a leather chaise lounge. He was wearing the silk shirt Reeves had gifted him for his birthday last year.

     “Troy, honey, hello! I hope this gets to you before you get into Tarsonis. If not, well, you know me… Always fashionably late. Sometimes even missing the party!”

     Reeves snorted with laughter. He had missed the “party.”

     “I don’t know what to say. I miss you? I’m definitely afraid for you, and I pray for you, even though I know it won’t do any good. Since I’m at a loss for words and I’m pretty sure we’re being monitored by whatever censors are on this channel, I thought I’d play you something… Here goes…”

     Henri began to play, his long arms languidly crossing his cello. Reeves had always been captivated by the sensuous way he moved. As the tune began, he recognized it. It was one that he had played before but not often. It was faster than much of the music that he played and darker. He searched for the name of it, but only came up with the composter—Stravinsky. A Russian. Reeves anger suddenly returned.

     Reeves’s XO, Commander Gorman, appeared at his door. Reeves turned off the recording. Gorman took a step back, reading the anger on his commander’s face. Reeves demurred.

     “Come in, what is it?”

     “There’s been an… incident… in the brig. We’ve had to restrain one of the prisoners.”

     “Which one?”

     “A ghost? Did you know about this?”

     Reeves stood up so quickly his chair fell over backwards. Gorman jumped at the sound.

     “Was he harmed?”

     “No, but he took out all the electronic equipment on the cell block and even some above and below. Some sort of telekinesis.”

     “Was it an escape attempt?”

     “If it was, it wasn’t a good one. He could’ve walked out, but he’s still down there. We put an external psi dampener on him but…” Gorman handed Reeves a datapad. “There are some irregularities in his file… I thought you might want to take a look. Why was he being held? I didn’t see…” Reeves interrupted him.

     “Gorman, don’t stick your nose into this. From this point forward, I alone deal with this ghost. Any inquiries go straight to me. I want no one to speak of him. There’s no ghost in our brig, and there never was. Is that clear?”

     Gorman went white. Reeves knew he understood. He generally allowed him more freedom than others of his staff—he had known him the longest of any of the crew—but because of this Gorman also knew how quickly Reeves could turn on someone. And when he turned, the relationship was soured forever.

     “O-of course, Admiral.”

     “Dismissed.”

     Gorman left quickly. Reeves read through Gregory Stukov’s file at his desk. He was young—22 biologically but 27 chronologically—and had entered the UED’s ghost program late either because he had been shielded by someone or because he was a late bloomer. His psi index was midrange and he had no reason to have been brain panned—no covert missions or erratic behavior. This appeared to be his first major mission.

     On brain-panning, Reeves aligned more with the Terran Dominion’s view of the practice than with his own government. Degenerates with psionic powers, he felt, needed to be tightly controlled. Brain-panning, he believed, made them docile. They knew no better than to follow orders and could do nothing for themselves if the practice was used judiciously. It had been standard operating procedure until around the time when Reeves had just begun maturing into his military career. Reeves’s first choice of posting had been a ghost “academy” in Montreal. He had already begun living there, and it was where he had met Henri. But the door to that opportunity had suddenly slammed shut. The same year a paper had been put before the UPL Council written by a group of anonymous military officers. It was titled “The Treatment of ‘Degenerate’ Psionic Assets in Training and Combat: An Analysis of Statistics and Subsequent Recommendations.” In it was a scathing deconstruction of many of the academy’s training methods and processes, the most notable of which their usage of “brain-panning” or memory erasure. Common wisdom was that eliminating an agent’s past made them more loyal. This paper, with statistics, case studies, and even some experiments, seemed to prove that it didn’t. One rhetorical question always stuck out to him, and it was the one that was his career’s undoing: “How can soldiers be loyal to a country they don’t remember?” Of all the arguments—that soldiers who were brain-panned could not relate to their commanders, that not being able to remember their families made them unable to form familial bonds among their comrades, and that making them unable to care for themselves in any practical sense put them at a disadvantage in survival situations—the question was the one that shut down the academies temporarily until they could be reformed. Reeves had sided against the paper and the revisions it would make. But the paper’s ideas had just enough patriotic spin on them. The regime changed and was out. And he was out with it.

     Years later, a few months before the Expeditionary Fleet was about to leave, a memo was forwarded to him by a friend who had survived the change in leadership. It was from Vice Admiral Stukov. His friend had written a note with it saying, “Notice anything?” In his memo, Stukov had sent along Admiral DuGalle’s call for the number of ghosts that they needed to accompany them to the Koprulu sector. With it, he had sent his own qualifiers since they would be directly under his command. He “under no circumstances” wanted any ghost that had been brain-panned for any reason—and he explained why. In his explanation, there were several sentences that were worded in almost exactly the same way as the paper that had made its way to the UPL Council years ago. Either Stukov kept a copy around or he had written at least part of it. Reeves looked up the paper and read it again. Sure enough, in the passages where the language was the most heated and blunt, there he recognized Stukov’s voice. He had sidetracked Reeves’s career from afar—and it hadn’t been the first time.

     But now, as he read Gregory’s file, he wondered how Stukov had been so prescient. How had he known his son—who wouldn’t have shown signs before Stukov left—would be a degenerate? Unless his father was. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake, Reeves thought. The bad egg. The spoiled apple. DuGalle’s pet a psionic. Gorman had been right about there being something fishy about the file. His psi index was rated at 5.5—too low for telekinesis and for the damage done to the brig. There were ghosts that were exceptions, but not many. His other scores were above average but not exceptional—as if he had been purposefully lowballing his tests or someone had changed his scores keep attention away from him. He would make some discrete inquiries to see who might be the culprit, but some of the information he was hoping the boy himself would divulge. A high psi index, holding back his powers, being too connected, or behaving erratically—all of these circumstances could potentially warrant brain-panning if presented the right way.

     A brain-panned son would be just what Stukov deserved. Gregory needed it, he thought, all ghosts needed it. But if Gregory had any loyalty to his father—and if he had been trying to escape—it would be necessary regardless of how he felt about Stukov. He couldn’t lose him, and the look on Stukov’s face when he realized his son no longer knew who he was would balance the ledger that Reeves had been tallying of his misdeeds.

     Reeves looked up the name of the chief ghost wrangler and trainer on board. He had seen several messages about a “missing ghost” from him but he had been ignoring them. He found his name—Special Ops Chief Shin. Shin picked up immediately when Reeves called. A weathered man appeared on the screen with close-cropped silver hair and one eye that was all white. In another place, he would have a prosthetic, but in the UED, such things weren’t allowed.

     “Shin!” He said curtly as a greeting. Reeves didn’t like that.

     “Chief Shin, this is Admiral Reeves…” He said, waiting for his authority over him to sink in. It never did.

     “Yes? What do you need?”

     “I have a recalcitrant ghost that needs to be re-educated.”

     “You mean brain-panned? A drastic measure. I would need to evaluate them.”

     “That will not be necessary.”

     “Yes, it will. Is this about my missing ghost?”

     “That is not your concern.”

     “Like hell it isn’t. Where is he?”

     “If you don’t have that machine ready in an hour, you’ll be in the same hole I put him in.”

     “What? This is out—”

     Reeves cut him off. He knew what he had to do, but he wanted to speak with the boy first.

     The lights had been restored in the brig by the time Reeves entered. A tech was still working on the guard’s surveillance terminal, her head in an access port under the desk. The guard looked on, standing nearby, bored and helpless. An ensign was still sweeping up the glass in the hallway of the cell block. The guard quickly stood at attention when Reeves entered. The tech hit her head on the desk, but also stood at attention. Reeves barely acknowledged them.

     “I want both of you to still be here when I come back out. Talk to no one, let no one leave, and send anyone who comes in away. Do you understand?”

     “Yes, sir!”

     Reeves skulked into the cell block, gripping the datapad Gorman had given him in his hand. He stopped at Gregory’s cell and looked in at him. When Gregory saw him, he quickly stood, his large green eyes meeting his fleetingly and then darting away. There was a thick, white metal collar around his neck—the external dampener they had fitted him with. Most ghosts had a failsafe surgically implanted in their brains, but they were calibrated to the psi index in their files. If he had one, it would be incorrectly fitted if his file was wrong. As he looked at him, Reeves saw little of his father in him. Maybe the eye shape and the body type, but the rest was his mother, whom Reeves had met infrequently but vividly remembered. That made it easier to talk to him. If he’d looked like Stukov, he thought, it would have been a lot harder not to kill him there in the hangar. But it would be harder to brain-pan him, and, if it came to it, kill him later, When his father inevitably pisses me off.

     He briefly thought about how hilarious it would be if it turned out Gregory wasn’t actually his son, and his wife had already been halfway out the door that long before their divorce. But he knew that wasn’t possible. The mandatory DNA screening most children went through to predict psionic ability would also have established paternity. Gregory had avoided testing—officer’s family privilege—until he most likely began to show signs of what the UED saw as an affliction. That was the first of many oddities of his file, which he would discuss with him.

     Reeves held up the datapad for Gregory to see. “I have your dossier right here, Gregory…” Gregory’s eyes followed it nervously. “There are a few items I think you’d better explain.”

     “Okay…” Gregory murmured.

     “First, your file says not a thing about you being a teek. That’s a little odd, don’t you think?” He said, his voice raising with the question.”

     “I… guess?”

     “You guess? Any idea why that pertinent information was kept out of your file?”

     Gregory was silent for a moment.

     “Clerical error?” He finally said. Reeves’s eyes narrowed. He saw more of his father in him now. That was exactly the kind of flippant remark his father would make.

     “Are you trying to be funny, son?”

     “No, sir,” he said quickly. Reeves watched his face. He was obviously afraid of him. The remark had been guileless if a bit stupid.

     “It also says your psi index is five and a half—and we both know that can’t possibly be right.”

     “Why not?”

     “Don’t play coy with me. We both know a human must have at least a PI of at least eight to be telekinetic. Tell me what your real number is.”

     Gregory was silent again, looking away.

     “Boy, if you don’t tell me, I’ll have it beaten out of you.”

     “Eight point two,” he said wearily, “What does it matter?”

     “Because one of my most powerful ghosts is exhibiting ‘erratic behavior,’ and may need some more permanent restraint than that psi dampener.” Gregory took a step back, the back of his leg hitting the bench behind him, causing him to lose his footing and fall against the wall.

     “No, that’s not necessary…”

     “You tried to escape.”

     “I didn’t!”

     “That’s enough!” A voice said from down the hallway. Dressed in a greying, threadbare ghost’s uniform covered by a long, black duster, Shin marched towards Reeves. Gregory stood up when he saw him. Shin ignored Reeves.      

     “Finally, I found you. I thought you’d gone AWOL. But that wasn’t right.”

     “I’m sorry. I’ve been in here since we got here…”

     “Don’t apologize. What have I told you about that?”

     “I’m sor… I mean…”

     “How did you get in here?” Reeves said, blustering.

     “I’m a ghost? How else? You’re not hard to find. All I did was ask the computer where you were. You really should have your whereabouts clearance-locked.” Reeves fumed. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” he said, turning back to Gregory.

     “No, but he put a gun to my head.”

     Shin turned quickly to Reeves, “You what?”

     From down the hallway, another prisoner had woken, hearing the three of them talking. He began banging on the wall.

     “Hello? Who’s there? I am a Terran Republic citizen, damn it. I demand due process and a lawyer.” It was Marcos Marinakis. Reeves had almost forgotten about him, but he needed him later.

     “Shut up!” he yelled at him. Reeves’s rage was about to get the best of him. He turned back to Gregory.

     “I sense your anger, Reeves,” Shin said calmly, “But this boy is not his father.” Reeves became irater at the imposition of Shin on his thoughts. He had accessed what amounted to classified data. Shin had not been privy to any briefings on Stukov and his appearance in the Koprulu sector.

     “That thing is not my father!”

     “What?” Reeves said, taken aback.

     “It is a zerg-infested zombie and an abomination.” Reeves never considered that Gregory would not see Stukov as his father anymore. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Stukov may not be Stukov but instead a reanimated version of him. But the way Stukov had spoken to him, the stunt he had pulled—he had been more vicious than usual, but it wasn’t out of character. He had been his same, sardonic self. It had to have been the real Stukov; he felt it. His body may have been tainted by the zerg, but his mind was still there. Gregory had not been able to speak to him. He had only seen what he had done and had to believe that he had not betrayed and abandoned them all those years ago. Reeves realized that brain-panning would be a kindness to Gregory and to his father. He would not use it on him—not yet anyway. Down the hallway, Marinakis began making noise again.

     “You can’t do this! I am a presidential candidate!

     “You’re right, Shin. He’s not his father. His father is dead. We should be more respectful of that. Of course that thing we’re allied with is an abomination… But we must play along, right?”

     Gregory nodded slowly, suspicious.

     “There’s no reason to punish him, Reeves,” Shin said quietly.

     “No, there isn’t. But he’ll have to stay here for his own safety…”

     “Fine. As long as we don’t have need for the operation room…” Shin began. Marinakis bellowed in the background.

     “Hold that thought, Shin. I think I still have use for your machine…”