The Picture

Prompter: @gottacatchghosts

Prompt: Danny/Jazz swap AU: Jazz is the half ghost and Danny is the older sibling. Go wild on your take of how this would all play out

Words: 1811

Notes: Related to THIS fic

“Hey Jazz, can you stand still for a minute? The lighting by you is perfect!”

“Daniel!”

A flash went off. Jazz blinked away the spots. Where had he come from? She would have sworn that it had only been her in the kitchen a few seconds ago. How had he come in so fast, or alternatively, how long had Daniel been watching her? Sometimes Jazz wondered who really was the ghost in their family, him or her?

“That was perfect!” Daniel cheered, “Now I’ll need a couple more photos and then you can go.”

“I thought you wanted to be a painter, Daniel?” Jazz frowned, “Since when did you care about photography?”

“Since I was the first one in all of Amity Park to catch a photo of the ghost girl in action! I discovered that I really do have a natural talent for it.” Daniel gloated as he changed the filters on his camera. Jazz smiled. It had been a long time since she had seen this side of her brother.

“Okaaayyy” She tried to sound like she was doing him a favour. If he knew that she was actually happy for him, then Daniel would never let it go.

“I knew you would agree!” Daniel grinned, “Now I have a bunch a filters that I need to try out! How busy is your day today?”

“Well I was planning to meet spike at the mall…”

“Perfect! I swear these photos are going to make you a star!” Daniel smirked, “Or at least get your name in the history books when these pictures come through.”

xXx

“I’m so sorry I’m late Spike! Daniel is on another stupid project kick.” Jazz huffed as she sat down in the mall’s cafeteria. Her friend looked up from the phone game he was playing. She wondered how long he had been waiting for her. Spike rarely ever tried out mobile games unless he was absolutely bored.

“And he says that he is nothing like his parents. Dude really is clueless to his own tendencies, isn’t he?” Spike laughed, “Maybe it’s a Fenton trait?”

“What do you mean by that?” Jazz asked.

“You still haven’t noticed my- You know what? I’ll let you figure it out.” Spike took a huge gulp from his soda.

“Come on Spike! That’s not fair!” Jazz whined. How could she even begin to guess something if she didn’t have a hint? She wasn’t a genius like her parents or her brother. She couldn’t help it she accidentally overlooked something that she didn’t even know was supposed to be there!

“Nothing is fair in love and war.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jazz wondered. Spike only smirked. He was about to explain (or maybe torment Jazz some more) when he was interrupted by one of Daniel’s friends.

“Hey Jazz! Have you seen Danny?” asked her brother’s not-so-secret admirer, Sam Manson. Jazz sighed. Judging by the new camera hanging from her neck, Sam seemed to be encouraging Daniel’s new endeavor. That meant he would be taking pictures for the next month or so. It was something that Jazz was not looking forward to.

“He’s in the house taking photos of plants. Or he decided he wanted to go on another jungle adventure and went into the ghost zone.” Jazz rolled her eyes. She muttered under her breath, “Then I’ll have to save him again this week…”

“Do you think he’s dumb enough to do that again?” Spike laughed, “Last time he got chased half-way across the zone by Klemper!”

“But he got some awesome pictures!” Sam grinned. She practically skipped away. Jazz giggled at her enthusiasm. She could see what Daniel liked about Sam. Maybe by this summer they would finally get together. Then they wouldn’t have another Ember situation.

“Your brother is going to get eaten by a ghost one day and all his friends are going to care about is that he got a good picture.” Spike snickered, “Man, I feel bad for him.”

Jazz joined into his laughter, “Yeah, but don’t feel too bad for him. You should have seen him when Tucker got attacked by Technus. He managed to get the two of them to stand still long enough for him to take a sketch.”

“And he didn’t snap a photo why?”

“As much as he hates to admit it, Daniel is just like our parents! He wanted to prove a point or something.”

Spike nodded in agreement, “Wanna get some ice cream?”

“You bet I do!”

xXx

The two best friends sauntered in the park, enjoying the beautiful weather and the lack of ghost attacks. It was peaceful times like these that Jazz liked the most. Times where she could just be a regular fifteen-year-old kid.

Of course, peace doesn’t last long in Amity Park.

“Wanna take a selfie?” Spike asked, “It’s been a while since our last!”

Jazz smiled, trying not to feel too guilty. Since becoming Jazz Phantom, she had veered away from cameras. In all of her research, she had discovered that photos tended to… change while in the presence of other ghosts. Yet the photos Daniel had taken of her, always seemed to end well. Maybe she was just being too paranoid?

“Say cheese!” Spike said, sounding way too bright to be considered a goth.

“Cheese!”

Spike took the picture, then went to see the results, “Uh… Jazz?”

He handed over the picture to her trembling. Nervous, Jazz took a look and paled.

Spike looked happier than he has in a long time. She on the other hand… If you showed the picture to anyone else, they would probably think that Spike had gotten a picture with Jazz Phantom herself! Jazz’s eyes were the bright red of her ghost form. Her hair was blue as the ocean. Her clothes looked faded, though if Jazz squinted, she could make out her logo.

All in all, this was a disaster.

“We have to get those photos from Daniel!” Jazz squeaked. She dived into a bush, transforming into her other half. Without a second thought she took to the skies, heading towards her home.

“Guess my plans have been cancelled,” Spike muttered, “Better tell mom not to cancel that trip to my therapist.”

xXx

“Daniel?” Jazz called while entering the house, “Are you here?”

Fentonworks was too quiet… Like her entire family was ready to attack her. She shivered, were they watching her? Jazz was afraid to even consider this. Maybe… maybe… Maybe her parents were out, and Daniel was with his friends?

“I’m up here,” Daniel called from up the stairs.

That didn’t feel like a trap at all.

With the very little courage she had left, Jazz carefully made her way up the stairs. Her yes darted around, waiting to catch the slightest movement. She prayed that her life was not about to fall apart. How could she have been so trusting? Daniel was her brother, but he had also been raised by ghost hunters. What if he warned her that she would have to leave? What if the government was here to take her away? These seconds could be the last of the life she had once known.

“Hey Jazz! The filters worked like a charm!” Daniel called from the top of the stairs.  The ghostly heroine nearly fell down the stairs in surprise.

“Danny?!”

“Oh sorry. Totally didn’t mean to scare you little sis! Sam, Tucker and I have finally come up with a filter that can properly take pictures of anyone. No more red eyes, or blurry pictures! And it’s not going to malfunction around you like all of our other inventions!” Daniel was talking at a mile a minute.

Jazz sighed in relief. He hadn’t mentioned how her picture had looked. Did it mean that her brother had discovered a way to properly photograph half ghosts? She would need to steal a dozen of these camera filters which, knowing her brother, he would have around.

Jazz practically skipped down the stairs, “I was just seeing where everyone was! I’m going to go find Spike again! Tell mom and dad that I’ll be home for dinner!”

“Okay? But don’t you want to hear more?” Daniel asked.

She answered his question by racing out of the door. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate her brother’s efforts. But Daniel could be just like Jack Fenton when explaining how something worked. She supposed she could be the same way when talking about psychology.

xXx

Daniel shook his head and sighed as his sister slammed the door. While he could understand her concerns, it still hurt to be rejected that way. It wasn’t like he could tell her that he knew her secret. She would freak out and try to trick him into thinking he just saw things. Now wasn’t the time for him to get down. He had just invented something revolutionary!

“How did you know that adding ectoranium to the filter would work?” Tucker asked, turning on the hall light, “And why did you have to tell her in the dark?”

“Cause it’s more fun to tell her that way. Who’d think that the ghost girl was afraid of the dark?” Sam answered for him, as she exited his room.

“Honestly, I forgot to turn on the lights.”

His two best friends howled but Daniel frowned. How could he have been so stupid? He’d after to reassure Jazz that everything was okay in a subtle way. Afterall, Jazz had a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions.

“I’m curious too,” Sam began, after she had calmed down a little, “how did you come up with the idea?”

“Ectoranium is the opposite or ectoplasm. I figured that the ectoranium would cancel out the effects that Jazz’s powers had on the camera. Now she can have her picture taken at school or join in family photos without a need for an excuse.” Daniel replied.

“That was very sweet of you Danny.” Sam gushed.

Daniel didn’t reply. Instead he headed back into his room. He put his hand under the mattress and pulled out the photo album he had been working on for the past couple of months. Carefully he placed one of the photos he had taken that day into the album. He flipped the picture over and wrote a note just like he had done to the other pictures.

This is the first photo taken with the new lens. Use the lens to reveal the true door. If the event has not happened, ignore this.

“Dude, the cryptic messages are a little freaky.” Tucker said.

“Call them safeguards, for just in case.” Daniel closed the book and hid it under his mattress again. Once he was done hiding his gift, he turned to his friends and smirked.

“Anyone want to see if we can get a picture of that Box Ghost again?”

“We’re in!”

Why are you here?

Here is another drabble (or maybe oneshot? I don’t know what the rules are) from my AO3. Nothing to complicated. Just a reader struggling and Oikawa being helpful. Hope you enjoy. :)

Word Count: Just shy of 1.6k

Your eyes glaze over as you listen to your friend ramble on. If you have to sit here and listen to her ramble on about Oikawa freaking Tooru any longer, you are going to implode. You really shouldn’t be surprised that this is where your afternoon study session went. It had become the norm. The two of you would meet up at the cafe around the corner from the school to go over your homework together and she would eventually lead you down the Oikawa conversation rabbit hole.

You managed to rein her in and keep her on task for approximately 30 minutes today. A new record, you think to yourself proudly. Inevitably though, the conversation went to Oikawa, the charismatic 3rd year and captain of the school’s volleyball team.

It isn’t that you had a problem with him specifically. You just thought he was a bit overrated and fairly annoying. But you didn’t hate him or anything. You shared a class with him. He was a decent student and classmate. Not overly impressive but by no means an idiot.

You do have to admit that he always had a solid showing in volleyball. You have seen him play volleyball, seen the plays he makes up on the fly, the way he strategizes. Oikawa is clever. His motivation entirely focused on being better at his sport. You suppose there is value in his talent there.

You stop that train of thought before it goes too far. You don’t want to think about Oikawa. You turn a vicious glare to your friend. It is her fault you were thinking about Oikawa in the first place. She catches your look and returns your glare with a confused furrow to her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Why are we talking about Oikawa again? I’m tired of hearing about him. He isn’t even that great.” Why do you sound so defensive?

Her cheeks turn dusty pink.

“I’m sorry--I didn’t even realize. Let’s go back to our work?”

You nod stiffly, shaking your thoughts away as you pick up your pen and go back to your homework.

============================================================= You stare at the grade at the top of the paper. You spent the last three days on this thing. How did you get such a crappy grade on it? You clench your fist, the paper crumpling under your hand. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You always have struggled to keep up with their lofty expectations of you. It isn’t a conversation you are looking forward to having this evening over dinner.

You let out a deep sigh and sink down into your chair, your back hunching over and your shoulders coming up to create a barrier around you, a shield to protect you while you work through your thoughts and emotions. You try to tune out your classmates chattering while you steady your breathing. No point in being upset. You will just pick yourself back up, promise your parents you will try harder, and do just that. One mediocre grade isn’t the end of the world...right?

You exhale slowly as you sit back up properly, trying to appear casual as you scan the room around you to see if anyone saw your moment of weakness. Your gaze locks onto soft brown. You stare blankly at Oikawa for a few moments before turning back to your paper. You miss the curious look he gives as his eyes linger on you a little longer.

=============================================================

You hold onto the rusted metal chain as you swing slowly. You cancelled your afternoon study session, choosing to head to the park near your house instead. You wanted to kill time before the moment of reckoning when your parents ask how school was today. The last thing you needed was to be distracted by talk of Oikawa.

What you didn’t notice at that moment was the boy in question strolling past the park on his way home. By coincidence, he stops and glances over to see you on the swings, looking a little worse for wear mentally. It only takes him a moment to make his decision. He makes his way over to you, carefully as if to keep from scaring you away. He knows you don’t like him much but he can’t just ignore you when you look so sad.

You don’t notice his presence initially, the only thing alerting you to another person’s presence was the squeak of metal coming from the swing next to yours. Your head shoots up as you look around. The identity of your company throws you.

“Oikawa?” You sound incredulous.

“Yes?” He hums out in response as he pushes off to start the swing moving.

“Why are you here?” You flinch internally at the aggression in your tone. If Oikawa notices (he does), he doesn’t mention it.

“Well isn’t it obvious? I’m enjoying the swings.”

Your expression falls flat, your words tired.

“Oikawa, what do you want? I would like to be left alone.”

He brings his feet down abruptly, coming to a sudden stop and turning to watch you carefully.

“You want me to leave?”

You return his look warily.

“Do what you want.”

“Alright then.” He resumes his swinging. You think he is doing this just to frustrate you and it is working.

The two of you swing, the only sound breaking the silence was the squeak of rusted metal on metal, for about 5 minutes before Oikawa speaks again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pause.

“Talk about what? Nothing going on here. Nothing at all. Besides, even if there was something, why would I want to talk about it with you?”

He shrugs. “Impartial third party?”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you have a volleyball to hit around? Or fangirls to charm?”

He shrugs again, choosing not to respond verbally this time, waiting for me to break, to talk to him. You tighten your lips into a straight line as you look across the park. Maybe if you refuse to engage with him, he will give up and go away. Another five minutes pass before you realize that he doesn’t plan to give up that easily.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” The venom that laced your words earlier had faded significantly. You just sound worn down now.

“Okay.” He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t care one way or the other.

You huff and slow your swing to a stop. You toe at the dirt as you collect your thoughts.

“Do you ever get tired of the expectations?” Your words are so quiet you weren’t even sure if you said them out loud. You must have because Oikawa’s attention immediately snaps to you. He doesn’t seem to need long to consider his answer.

“No.”

You weren’t sure if the answer you expected but it also didn’t surprise you.

“Why not? How do you handle it?”

This answer he contemplates for a few minutes. You wait patiently, just as he has for you through this whole interaction.

“Turn it into motivation, the extra push I need sometimes.” He hums softly, mulling over his words before he continues. “But--ultimately--the expectations of others shouldn’t matter.”

You scoff, of course he would make it seem that simple. “Sure.”

“Are you happy?”

The question catches you off guard and your mouth drops open as you stare at him dumbly.

“Well what does that even have to do with anything?”

“Well--if you are happy, the expectations shouldn’t matter as much, right? Take volleyball--”

You interrupt him with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression. “Does it have to be volleyball?”

He grins brightly in your direction. It’s disarming.

“Yes it does. Now listen. People have expectations of my skill, right?”

He pauses and looks to you for affirmation. You nod. He takes that to mean you are listening to him and continues.

“Well, sometimes, I will admit, it does get tiring. But, volleyball makes me happy. I practice and train to get better for my happiness, not theirs. These are my dreams on the line, not theirs. My happiness can’t hinge on their expectations.”

The words roll around in your brain as you try to comprehend what he was telling you. Did Oikawa just give you advice in a roundabout way? And decent advice at that? Silence settles around the two of you again before you stand, dusting off your skirt and turning to Oikawa.

“Okay.”

Confusion paints his features as he stands to join you.

“Okay?”

You nod resolutely. You feel ready to head home.

“Okay. I’m going to find my happiness.”

He looks surprised that you actually listened to him as you turn away from him and begin to walk away.

You stop about halfway to the entrance of the park before abruptly turning and stalking back in his direction. His confusion turns to concern as he watches you make your back over. Confusion turns to shock as you stand on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. You pat his face lightly over the spot your lips just left as you plant your heels back on the ground. You throw a few parting words over your shoulder with a small wave of your fingers.

“Thanks for the advice, Oikawa. I guess you aren’t as bad as I thought you were.”

Oikawa watches you go, a small, unsure smile on his features before it falls as he processes your words. You thought he was bad? Well that won’t do. He collects himself as he rushes off after you, determined to change your mind once and for all.

Fanfic Friday #10

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here 

{peter stark and a no good very bad day}

Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Steve Rogers & Peter Stark

Warnings: swearing, fluff otherwise :)

Wc: 3,984

Today, everything had gone wrong. He stayed up way past his bedtime the previous night and had gotten barely three hours of sleep by the time he arrived at school. He forgot his Spanish homework in the lab and that was the one grade he needed to pull from an A- to an A. He chugged a couple shots of espresso, and his usual store on the walk to school was closed. Meaning he had no redbull to sustain him through his classes.

Also, guess which class was straight bangout first, Spanish. So he hadn't done the homework and had no time to do it. Great. Fortunately, he made it through first period Spanish, only getting slightly scolded for not handing in the assignment. Then he had a break, and the kid desperately needed a pick me up coffee and muffin. He went to the closest cafe, one he’d come to love, only to find the whole football team there. Which would have been fine, if he wasn’t so goddamn awkward. He stood there for a solid five minutes before he asked the jock in his way to move so he could order.

Then, when the kid did get to ordering they ran out of fuckin chocolate muffins. What kinda cafe runs out of chocolate muffins at ten am? This one apparently. So coffee and blueberry muffin in hand, he headed back to the student lounge to get some work done.

The next portion of his day went as planned, a welcomed change of pace. Well Flash was a bitch, but what was new there. And his senses were through the roof. But other than that. That was all until the last period. To start, he got a text from his boyfriend, explaining that he’d no longer be arriving this Friday, but instead the following Saturday. Peter wanted to cry. He missed his boy. Leaving Harley on read, he tried to focus on chemistry, but he’d done the stuff they were going over about 100 times with Dr. Banner. He zoned out the entire class.

Finally, the bell rang and put him out of his misery. He quickly texted Ned asking if he was coming in the following day. He had been sick that day. He went to leave, but the class was stopped by the announcement of a test and more homework. For fuck sake.

He did get out, though. And he got straight in the car, barely pausing to say hello to Happy. Noticing the boy's unusual quiet, he didn’t press for more details about Peter’s day. Happy, though he’d never say it, enjoyed hearing about the kids day. He had come to really care for Peter, and his accomplishments made the older man happy. Ironic, he knew.

They had arrived at the tower in almost record time, and Peter was glad to have avoided extra time in the car. What he really craved was a couple hugs from his dads, a chat with his boyfriend, and to get through the stack of busy work that weighed him down.

Happy went round to the private entrance, wished the kid a good day, and headed off to some other errand. Peter exited, scanning his pass at security and being recognized and let through by Friday. So, he’d finally made it upstairs and there the sofa was, filled with a few avengers. Luckily his parents were among them. The two were sitting close to each other, as normal.

Peter simply put his head in his pops lap, and he laid his feet on his dad. Neither Steve nor Tony said anything, but they gave each other the look. Steve ran his hands through his son’s hair lovingly. “Pete?” Tony asked, “What happened kid?” “Nothin’” Peter replied, still buried in his Pop’s lap. “You sure about that?” Steve pressed. “Just a bad day,” Peter mumbled. “What happened паук?” Nat spoke up. She is very protective of Peter. “What didn’t happen?” he sighed dramatically. “Well you mope for as long as you like, Pete,” Tony joked. “Thanks dad,” he said, closing his eyes again in search of sleep. “Teenagers I tell you,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. “Fuck you Barton,” Peter mumbled before falling asleep properly. “He really is your child, Tones,” Clint laughed. “Hey Peter just said a bad language word,” Nat remarked. “God I hate all of you,” his Pops groaned. Then Peter fell into peaceful, safe sleep.

“Pete?” his Pops said, entering his room. He moved around, noticing he’d been moved from the sofa to his own room. He groaned. “Hello to you too.” “Yes, Hi, father, Captain America, Leader of the Avengers, Man of Strengt-” “Ok relax,” Cap rolled his eyes. Peter sat up, smirking. “Wanna tell me what actually happened today?” “J-just everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong.” “Did that start with you staying in the lab way past a normal sleeping time?” “Perhaps. How did you kn-” “You are aware that your dad designed that whole lab situation, right?” “Fair enough.” “Do we have to initiate Insomnia protocol again?” “God no, it was one night.” “Promise.” “Swear. Just an awful day. Spidey senses all acting up, being annoying, no chocolate muffins. Speaking of which, can I have the day off tomorrow? I have basically no classes.” (he wasn’t sure why, but all but one of his classes were cancelled.) Steve thought for a moment. He knew the kid had been through a lot always, and a day off never hurt anyone. Also, he was far too smart to be there anyway. “Yeah. Let me just double check with Dad, okay?” “Thanks.” “We’re eating dinner now so get cleaned up?” “Yep. Coming.”

The next day

Peter awoke at 10 with a smile on his face. He’d peacefully regained energy. He’d finished his school work the previous night, and he was happy to just relax for a day. He pulled on some SI sweatpants and a hoodie he’d stolen from Harley awhile back.

“Hey parentals,” he greeted, still holding his smile. “Morning,” his Pops said as he cooked breakfast. “Morning? Is it already?” I bet you can guess who that came from. “Tones,” Steve said, voice full of its normal concern. Peter just laughed, taking a stool at the bar. “What? I’m fine. I’m having fun.” “You promised you’d at least take a nap.” “Oops,” he smiled, heading back in the direction of the lab. “You’re a great role model to our son!” “You really are dad!” Peter added. “Love you both dearly.” Steve rolled his eyes and Peter chuckled. “Where’s the rest of the team?” Peter inquired. He’d come to realize that saying team was easier than naming all the residents of the tower. “Nat, Clint, Wanda, and Pietro are training. Thor and Loki went back to Asgard last night, and Bruce is in his lab.” “Oh, Loki didn’t tell me he was going back.” “Some emergency. Sorry kid.” “Yeah, i-it’s fine.” “He told me to assure you they’d be back soon.” “Good.” “Keaner getting here soon?” “Nah coming tomorrow now. Something about something, I don’t really know.” “Ok. Made grilled cheeses and tomato soups. It's almost done,” Steve offered. “Thanks,” Peter said. “What’s with Loki leaving that's got you so down?” “I just miss him a lot.” Steve knew that his Kid and loki had come to get on surprisingly well. They were as close as he and Nat. Not even Clint had managed to get that close.

Peter practically inhaled a couple of sandwiches. “I’m going to go work with Dad.” “Have fun!” “I will.” “Love you.” “Love you, too.” He sped down to the lab, where he could hear his Dad’s ACDC blasting as usual. “Heyo, what you working on?” “The suit nanotech. Wanna give your old man a hand?” “Always. Bring up the blueprints. What adjustments have you made so far? “Just the molecule distance and expansion weight. Trying to help stabilize the structure.” “What about the build construction stacking?” So they dove into work, Peter easily keeping up with the genius.

“Nicely done, getting too smart for me. What are you even doing in high school?” “Being bored and failing my humanities classes.” “You're not actually failing your classes are you? Grades are not everything bu-” “Relax father, I’m doing well in all my classes.” “I should probably know that. In fact I’ll actually show up to your next parent teacher conference.” “Please don’t,” Peter smiled. His father was generally very embarrassing. “Friday, make sure I’m at the kid’s next conference?” “Reminder set.” “Thanks, Fri.” “Anytime boss.” “God Fri please remind me to not show up for my next conference.” “Heyyyy,” Tony said, faking offence. “Dad, you can be very overbearing.” “I know, but-” “No.” “Fine, guess I’m not coming. Trying to be a good father and parenthood isn’t for me.” “I beg to differ,” Steve said, coming in to check on us, “realise you're no match for Peter’s intelligence yet?” “No fucking way. I’m a genius. Many PHDs. Kid hasn’t even finished high school, plus he has an A- in Spanish,” Tony laughed. “How did you-,” Peter rolled his eyes. “Friday just sent them to me.” “You’re awful.” “Hey watch it, MIT is still your dream school?” “I fucking hate you so much,” Peter really did loved this kind of banter with his father. “Maybe I do agree that parenthood isn’t for you, love.” “Capsical, you are a traitor. You’re supposed to always be on my side.” Steve kissed Tony’s cheek and ruffled Peter’s hair before saying, “Pepper needs you. Something about important business.” “Really important?” “She says if you don’t come she’ll lock you out of the company.” “That important then. Fri, tell Pepper that I’m coming.” “She has been notified, sir.” “Thank you. Bye then, Peter don’t fuck anything up.” “The same to you Mr. Stark.” Tony left the lab with a chuckle. “You two will be the death of me.” “Almost certainly.” “You staying in here?” “Nah, I have some projects in my lab waiting for me.” “You know your dad was joking about the grades right? Because grades really don’t mean anything, and they don’t define you. Nor does your intelligence. You are so much more than all that. And all these suits and mechanicy genius things-” “Pops. I’m fine. I know,” he smiled at his dad. “I just read in this parenting book that something smart or gifted kids can feel like th-” “Pops, you and dad are the best parents a kid could ask for. Stop worrying too much or you’ll turn grey like dad.” Captain America just smiled at his kid because he was the best. “Right. Good. Have fun.” “Will do.”

He messed with the design for the 100th millionth time but he couldn't get the vibrainim to synthesize with the web fluid. “Fri, get me another cup of coffee, please.” “For fuck sake, why isn’t this working,” he said to himself. He began to mess with the 3d hologram again. He typed in Mock 32 for the design and started trying again. “Pepper Potts is requesting access to the lab.” “Access granted,” he said to Fri. “Hey Pete, how’s it going?” “Badly, but it's fine. IS THAT COFFEE?” “White mocha latte, triple shot espresso,” She said, placing it down on the desk. “Ok..back up. What do you need?” “What, I can’t just bring my favorite stark a coffee?” “Aren’t you busy?” he asked skeptically. “Yes. Incredibly. So it is a peace offering. I allowed a tour access to this lab to look around, and see what a higher ups lab looks like in action. Fri will hide all of the classified things, and I thought you’d be at school. Tony just told me you weren’t so, here we are.” “He actually showed up to your meeting?” “Yes, and it wasn’t my meeting. He just needed to be there, and I didn't.” “I take your peace offering. It’s fine, I don’t care. So long as they don’t touch my shit.” “Good. Greet them, let them look around. Smile your cute smile. They’ll be up in five.” “FIVE MINUTES?” “Yep. Sorry, Hun, got to run. Thanks.” “You owe me one!”

As promised, the class showed up in five minutes. He was fine with the concept of a class showing up, he was not, however, good with his class showing up. “Is that Penis Parker?” He heard Flash. “Holy hell that is Park?” “IS THAT PETER?” “Did Peter break in?” “How is Peter here?” He couldn’t exactly kick them out. So, embracing his inner Tony Stark charm and Steve Rogers kindness, he opened the lab door, stepping into the corridor.

“EVERYONE PLEASE BACK UP AND BE QUIET!” The tour guild, Aliah, yelled. They were a kind person who Peter knew a bit. The classes quieted down.

“Hello, Aliah.” “Hi Peter,” they greeted, “Sorry, I hadn’t realized you’d be in today. I’ll just take them to our next stop.” “No, no it's fine. If it’s alright, I’ll give them a little tour sorta thing. I don’t mind, plus I kinda promised Pepper.” “That’d be really cool. Thanks.” “Yeah. Call ‘em over.” “Yeah. We’re just waiting on their teacher, he’s in the restroom.” “Course.”

Mr. Harrington showed up, questioning Aliah about the next stop. Then, he saw Peter. “Mr. Parker!” he exclaimed angrily, “How dare you show up here without a permission slip and claiming to be sick. What is this? We will be speaking with the principal and your parents about this! I am so sorry Aliah. Peter shot Aliah the “I got this” look. “Hi Mr. Harrington, I was unwell this morning, but I felt better so I came into work. Yes, I do have an internship here,” he said, loud enough for the class to hear. “The next stop on your tour,” they said, “is to Peter’s lab. He’s been so kind to give us a run-down.” Peter simply point at the door which read “Lab #55: Peter Parker.” “Right, uh, um, sorry Mr. Parker, please let us continue.” Peter smiled through his nerves. “Right, hello there class! I will be giving you a tour of my lab. I do some pretty important work, so I’m going to ask Friday to activate the ‘Guest Protocol’ to hide the classified stuff. It’s also very dangerous, so please do not touch anything.” There were nods from the class. “Right, Fri complete guest protocol and allow tour of Aliah to enter.” “Yes miniboss.” He re-entered his lab. “So, most of the time I work here,” he said, pointing to the biggest holograph table, “I work on designs, changes, and any mockups that need to happen. I then make them a reality. I can also run simulations on any formulas to see if they would be successful.” “Fri, please pull up the WFV project I was just working on for Spiderman.” “Right away mini-boss.” “So as you can see I’m trying to get the vibranium intertwine itself with Spiderman’s web fluid. This would allow the webs to be almost 47 times stronger, and also would allow them to conduct electricity, which has many uses. Anyone have any questions?” Ava raised her hand and Peter nodded at her, “Hey, so how did you learn all this? Like, it seems really complicated and you're in my chem class, so.” “I’ve worked a lot with both Mr. Stark and Bruce Banner, who’ve taught me most of what I know throughout the years. I also took a few online courses to solidify some subject matters I didn’t quite understand,” Peter, satisfied with his answer, asked if anyone else had inquired. “How did you get an internship here?” “Mr. Stark found me on the internet and took a liking to my projects. He met me and decided I’d fit right in here,” Peter explained simply. It was a lie of course, but it functioned as their cover story. “Anyone else? No. Cool, so moving onto some other sections in the lab. Over in that corner are the testing rooms. I have some more equipment scattered around for certain projects or just overall help on making things. Feel free to look around for 5-7 minutes and ask any questions you may have.” Some kid, Peter wasn’t sure of their name, raised his hand. “Why do you have cars in here? Are they yours?” “Some of the cars are mine, courtesy of Mr. Stark, who claims no lab is complete without some collection of cars. I can’t even drive them, to your point, but I guess I will when I’m eighteen. Some of the cars are Mr. Harley Keener’s, who I occasionally share my lab with. He doesn't do Avengers related projects, but he does love to tinker here and there. ‘Specially on the cars. See that red one, yeah he bought it for 5k and fixed it up. It’s actually an electric car, he just likes the old timers look. Guess that’s on him and da-Mr. Stark.”

No one seemed to have any other question, so he allowed them to look around. MJ nor Ned seemed to be in this class. He guessed they were in another group that wasn’t coming up here, or they went to a different location.

The tour went smoothly, and Flash seemed too shocked to say anything. “Peter! Peter!” Bucky came in yelling. Peter ran over to him. “Please keep it down uncle Buck.” “Oh shit your class is here!” “Yes now please don’t embarrass me.” “Won’t do! Just wanted to ask where Loki went.” “Asgard official business,” I said with a frown. “Really? He didn’t say a thing!” “I know.” “That little shit.” Peter laughed alongside Bucky. “Did you need anything else?” “Yeah, my arm's a little fucked up. Need a hand.” “Happy to give it a look. Dad in a meeting?” “To all our shock, yes.” “Ha. Give me a sec to get my class outta here.” Bucky nodded. “Right everyone, thanks for visiting. Please head towards the exit. The lovely Aliah will take you to your next location. They are awesome!” A murmur of “thanks Peter” and “is that the winter soldier” spread through the room. “See ya round,” Aliah said to him personally, “And thanks for this.” “Anytime. Bye!” They smiled a warm smile before leading the class out.

“What’s not working so well?” Peter asked. “Just some tightness in the finger motion. “Alright, okay. Fri, get me an update of the schematics, please.” “Yes, sir.” They appeared on the holographic table Peter was working at. “Right, can I please get a current scan of Uncle Bucky’s arm?” “Yes. Shall I place them next to the schematics?” “Yep. And highlight all differences.” “Yes miniboss.” “You gotta stop with that Fri.” “Name unable to be changed under the authority of Tony Stank, Badass Boss, God of Mischief, and Fiance.” “Glad the whole team is against me living a good life,” Peter remarked with an eye roll. “You drama queen.” “Thanks,” Peter smiled. “You know what’s wrong yet?” Peter opened up the schematics, looking at the highlighted section of the 3d arm model. He didn’t speak for a moment. “So I reckon, you fucked up the wiring and section T4’s minigears. None of the important tech is messed up, it’ll be fine. Maybe a half an hour fix. Max.” “Good, good. Thanks kid,” Bucky said with an appreciative smile. He nodded, disconnecting the arm carefully. He placed it onto his table next to the holographic model. He gave a skeptical look. “Something bad?” “No, no, I was just thinking. Thinking, hmn.” “Care to share with the class?” Buck said with a sense of humor lingering in his voice. “Well, you’re not on mission all that often, and this is quite a bulky arm. Ever think about getting one that’s your skin colour, lighter weight, more, I don’t know, arm like. Less hydra murdery vibes. Help get rid of that, that time.” “I have…” “So can I make it?” Peter said excitedly. “You mean it?” “Of course Uncle Buck! No clue why dad hasn’t offered before!” “Guess he never thought of it. Maybe thought I liked the scary metal thing,” he suggested weakly. “Well that’s stupid,” Peter said casually. Bucky never understood how the kid could be so compassionate so easily. “Thanks. Really.” “No worries. I’ve been looking for a new project to throw myself into. It'll be fun. And as much as I hate to admit it, I need to work on my smaller scale mechanical work.” All Bucky could do was smile his beaming smile. “Bucky!” the voice of the Black Widow shouted. “Hey Nat,” Buck replied. “Wanna train?” she asked. “As much as I want to,” he said, pointing towards the area his arm would have been. “Oh, what happened this time?” “Nothing to major, some gears and wires,” Peter filled it, “Give me twenty minutes I’ll be done.” He’d already opened the arm and gotten to the section where the wires were screwed up. “DAN-E get me the soldering kit, please,” he asked the robot, “Oh and some new T6YU wires. Red and purple.” The robot gave a vaguely human nod. “Right, I'll be waiting. Test the adjustments out on me?” She suggested. “Alright,” Buck said. “Oh and I’m in charge of ordering food. What do you want?” “Burgers?” “You boring, bland little boy,” Nat scolded. “Thai?” Buck requested. They looked over to Peter, “Sure, yeah.” Nat headed out, greeting Tony with a “Hey Stank” on the stairs out of his lab. “Yours is so much smarter than mine, why is yours so much smarter than mine,” Tony fake (real) whined. “I’m the superior mechanic, father, deal with it.” DAN-E, almosting proving his point, dropped the materials on his desk, and he continued to work. “I’m donating DUM-E,” Tony glared at him, “What happened to the arm Buck?” “Stiff fingers isall.” “Oh, ok. Pete, need a hand?” “Nah, I’m good. Not much to do. Some wires got fucked up, just replacing them now. Going to look at the minigears in the palm too, just to make sure the oil regulation and gear’s aren't broken. I think one of the gears is, but it's one of them that's easy to replace,” Peter replied, not looking up from his work. “Right, sounds good. Your pops and I are going out for the night. Be back around 12 let’s say.” “Cool. Can I borrow some vibranium from your lab?” “Sure thing kiddo. Call us if you need anything. Fri, give Peter access to vault B3 in my lab.” “Thanks,” Peter smiled. “Anytime. Good luck with ya know.” “Shouldn’t he ask you what you're going to do with a substance that costs 10,000$ a gram?” “Something about trusting me.” “Parents trust their kids with going out later or or doing their homework not fucking multimillions of dollars.” “Uncle Bucky, my parents are Iron Man and Captain America. There was never a shot at normal.” “Fair enough.”

Peter finished up the adjustment on the arm by changing a gear. “Thanks a lot kid.” “Of course. I’m going to work on your new arm now.” “Alrighty, I’ll get out of your way.” “Oh could you ask Auntie Nat what time she’s ordering dinner for? So I know when to head up, just get Fri to tell me.” “Will do.” “Thanks.”

So Peter was left to making some blueprints and drinking many red bulls. The red bull mini-fridge was actually a gift from Shuri, and his fathers had many words with him about it. He managed to convince them that he should keep it, god knows how. Well, he used the whole Princess of Wakanda and making peace and Stark Industries relationship with Wakandan products and companies as well as international relations and blah blah. It worked, who cares.

After a few hours he was called up for dinner, and he sat there and enjoyed the absolute chaos of his family.

Save/comment on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/33320938

For A Greater Good 13/18

not my gif. just the text- Threats

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12]

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse

--

The first storm of May left the school in a darkness Kate never saw before. The temperature had abruptly dropped; the exams were getting closer and the Quidditch game that week had been cancelled as a result of an avalanche that had reached the castle grounds.

Ranunculus glacialis; Draba lactea; Dryas octopetala; Cicerbita alpina... she was reading the different plants stuck together with Spello-tape and correctly classified that she had hung on the walls of the classroom. The herbarium project had been successful even among the most reluctant students; so much they begged to go to the lake and expand their works of art with aquatic plants.

With a proud smile, Kate looked out the window of the herbology class, following the comings and goings of the students who passed by and lamented their lost quidditch match.

In the distance, Mer Yankelevich was coming from the lake, wearing a large hood to protect herself from the rain.

Her gaze turned to the column. Astrid Rhode and Libor Marek were talking beside it. The teacher must have felt eyes resting on him, for he scanned his surroundings. Realising that it was Kate who was watching him, he turned his attention back to Rhode, who glanced at her as well. “In my experience,” the curse-breaker from Iceland than Rhode had hired had said, “someone has tried to break a curse that does not exist.”

In another time and in another school, all eyes would have been on Kate. Now, free of that burden, she turned to see if her students had finished copying on their scrolls the Herbivicus charm used to make plants grow at high speed.

“I know that the attempt to make the umbrella flowers germinate has not turned out as we expected. They are very obstinate flowers, but we must be even more stubborn. This Friday, we will change the fertiliser we have been using for a more refined one”.

Thunder rumbled on the castle walls and some children began to get restless.

“Perhaps they don’t like this weather,” she joked before climbing onto the platform where her desk was placed. “When we get the optimal conditions for their germination, we’ll practice the spell until they come into bloom. However, and this is very important, we must not let the flowers open yet. We want to prevent them from pollinating naturally before we select them.”

Micael Angelov raised his hand. “What about the fanged geraniums?”

“I’ve been doing several tests and they germinate properly. They are easy to control and that is why we will be working on them after getting at least ten healthy umbrella flowers...”

The classroom door blasted open, revealing a hooded figure. All the sheets and scrolls in the class were scattered with the gust of wind that came in with the stranger. Thinking that it was Mer Yankelevich, she went to the door to ask for explanations, but Corentin’s face stopped her. Surprised, Kate aired her wand to close the door and stop the cold coming in.

The librarian lowered his hood and immediately apologised to the students, who began to whisper.

“I must talk to you,” he murmured.

“Can it wait until the end of the class?”

Corentin nodded and headed for the end of the classroom where he stood on a corner without looking away from the window.  He kept looking outside until the bells indicated the end of the lesson.

“Let me know if you want to go to the greenhouse before Friday and I’ll open the door for you. Jon, you must give me the list of your inventory, ah! Wait! I have your works on the mandrakes corrected, on Wednesday we will comment on it... Be careful outside!”

When the class was free of students, Kate approached Corentin, who was looking at her with a sly smile.

“You are getting more comfortable here.”

“What’s going on?”

“Last night someone went through my desk. Don’t worry, they were unsuccessful. I have the plans well in hand, but that shows that someone has the same goal as us.”

“And also that they have been spying on us.” She waited a moment and added, “This is not a good sign, Corentin.”

“I advise we continue with our... project.” With one hand, he gestured to the windows, and the curtains closed, leaving them in almost total darkness, except for the candlesticks on the ceiling.

He shook his sleeve, and from a black smoke the different scrolls that made up Nerida Vulchanova’s maps appeared.

Kate had some candles levitated, providing light and some warmth around them. From her desk, she took out seven books on magic walls, curses, portals and doors, and as every day since the discovery of Nerida’s painting, they began their study session.

After a couple of hours, Kate dropped her head on the desk with a thud.

“I have superposed all the rooms, corners and nooks of these plans, and they are all dead ends.”

“And there is nothing in these books that works... There are spells, incantations, words and words that say wonderful things and nothing at the same time. It’s like reading a blank page...”

“Did you wake up poetic today?”

“What do you think is inside?” Her voice sounded a little nasal, as she had her entire face smashed against a book, “One of the Deathly Hallows?”

“I doubt it, it’s not known if Grindelwald got any in his time at school and I don’t think, in case he had the elder wand, he came here to hide it.”

She raised her head and scanned the desk “Let me see the room behind the portrait again.”

Corentin gave her the plans,  forming the rectangle that represented the secret room.

“If you look closely, there is no passageway connecting the trophy room to this place, and I have been trying to match it to one of these, but nothing convinces me.”

“We lack information.”

“That’s obvious. But there are no other documents than the ones we have here. There is a possibility that Vulchanova destroyed them.”

“No...” she trailed off. She checked several sheets and held one that was blank. Only a triangle adorned one corner. “My grandmother was a Muggle...”

Corentin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want you to take this as a lack of interest, but what does it have to do with this?”

“When I was a child, I was not allowed to see my grandparents. One of the conditions for allowing my parents to marry was to cut off contact with that branch of the family, and in return, the Williams offered my grandmother protection from anti-Muggle politics.”

“I’m sure this is going somewhere...”

“Of course my mother didn’t cut off contact. I was very young, but I remember the distinctive smell of...” she sniffed the parchment and a hint of a smirk appeared on her face, “lemonade.”

“I really try to follow you.”

“My mother wrote letters that, in the eyes of wizards, were empty. Muggles have a technique for making invisible ink.”

She extended her arm to one candle and held the paper so close to the flame that Corentin leaned over in his seat for fear that she would burn it.

As Kate moved the parchment, several lines appeared in a copper colour, which Kate recognised perfectly.

“Fascinating.”

Kate chuckled and left the parchment on the table. “I don’t think Vulchanova intended you to live in a controlling regime in order to decipher her map. Just that you knew a little about alchemy.” She pointed to the triangle in the lower corner. Corentin’s eyes shone with excitement.

He grabbed the missing piece of the map and spent long minutes trying to fit the lines over the fragment they already had. Meanwhile, Kate was trying out different pieces of parchment and new lines appeared on the existing maps as she drew them closer to the fire.

“Look,” said Corentin, “it can be accessed in several ways.” From where Nerida’s painting was, two paths branched out showing two tunnels leading to the room.

Kate gasped. By turning one of the sheets of paper, she made the newly discovered lines coincide with others drawn in ink.

Corentin imitated the procedure of heating the scrolls and, as if in a perfectly synchronised dance, they fitted each parchment with the previous one, forming a map of the ground floor that occupied the whole desk.

When Kate placed the last paper, a golden light emanated from one corner. The light moved through the junction between the papers, forking and coming together until it disappeared. Corentin raised a corner, noting with fascination and surprise that they now had a single plan of the castle.

“Wait! It’s disappearing!”

Corentin brought the map closer to the candles and the rooms and passages reappeared, making both of them sigh in relief. “With the Muggle trick that doesn’t happen.”

“Maybe she thought she had to give it a magic twist.”

 After tidying up the room, Corentin left Kate thinking about their more-than-suspicious meetings.. They had to be more careful from that moment on; if someone was watching them, they could get into trouble.

The storm had subsided, and instead of the sky it was Kate’s stomach that was roaring.

Corentin had taken her students’ books back to the library, so she exhaled happily that she could go directly to the dining hall. As she opened the curtains, she came face to face with Libor Marek, sitting on the outside stone wall.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted as she closed the door behind her.

“I thought you’d never get out.”

“Have you... been waiting for me?”

“No. There are rumours that Karkarov has returned to the grounds... I’m here on Rhode’s orders. When the students are eating, the guards reinforce the doors and this area is left empty...”

“I don’t see you too worried.”

Marek huffed and began a thorough inspection of his wand. “I will not hunt down the man who gave me a job.”

“Igor Karkarov...?”

“Yes.” He did not look up. Kate waited for him to say something else, but concluded that she would have to force him.

“Who else did he hire?”

“And how would I know that? I was the last to arrive. Well, Hodges came later, but that was Rhode’s doing.” He shook his head and put his wand up his sleeve before looking around. “I’m going to eat.”

“Didn’t she tell you to stand guard?”

Marek walked up to her and in a raspy voice said, “I would stop whatever it is that you’re doing .”

The difference in height gave Kate some security, but she chose not to adjust her stance to one of defiance; the last thing she wanted was to duel that man again. “Watch your back.”

Marek squinted and left her standing in the cold, wondering if he was referring to himself or someone else.

The rest of the week proved uneventful. After the discovery of Nerida’s complete map, Kate avoided the library as part of an unspoken agreement with Corentin. The librarian, for his part, did not contact her until Thursday afternoon when they enjoyed each other’s company with some tea and biscuits.

Only one sentence was exchanged about their research and that was Corentin commenting nothing out of the ordinary had happened and that only Sheyi Mawut approached the library to borrow a book on batting techniques.

Friday’s class in the greenhouse was fruitful; Kate’s students managed to germinate seven umbrella flowers with the new fertiliser, eight according to the children, who took the flower grew in such a way that it shot up into the air, opening a gap in the greenhouse roof, as a success.

Kate proposed a prize for whoever found the flower when it fell.

The path to her room after the class was full of obstacles; the students, motivated by the proximity of the competition, practiced their spells and incantations in the corridor or moved in groups to see the lists of participants.

Amidst robes and hats, Kate spotted Leron Angelov’s head in the distance. She had no intention of worrying about him until she saw him stagger down the hall. He rested both hands on a door and dropped his head forward.

There were students everywhere, but Kate could perfectly see Cassandra Steiner make her way through to Leron. She opened the door and pushed him into the room.

With firm steps she advanced to the classroom at the end of the corridor and without waiting a second more, she muttered Alohomora, and burst inside.

Like a niffler caught in the middle of a robbery, Cassandra looked up with big eyes. Her expression hardened instantly. She waved her wand to where Kate was and she heard the click of the door closing.

Without her eyes off Leron Angelov, she moved closer to get a better look.

He seemed to be standing in a strange position. His eyelids were not fully closed, his arms hung like two dead weights on either side of his torso and his legs... his legs did not touch the ground.

He floated in the air, without a broom, without a spell. His posture was grotesque, and Kate looked at him in horror because even though she saw no rope, he seemed to be hanging.

“Is... is he dead?” she asked with a trembling voice. She sought the healer’s gaze, but she was busy airing out the desks in the centre to create a larger table. “Steiner, is he dead?”

“No. Shut up. Help me with him.”

Both healers grabbed Angelov’s body and turned it in the air until it was in a horizontal position.

“Hold him against the table.” Kate obeyed and put her hands on Leron’s chest. She had to use a lot of strength as the body insisted on levitating.

Meanwhile, Cassandra moved around the makeshift table, uttering a spell repeatedly. Angelov’s hands and ankles were quickly anchored to the wood.

“You can let go.” She informed, before heading for the windows and starting to close the curtains.

Kate watched his eyes move behind the eyelids, and small wrinkles appeared on his forehead from time to time. As a good healer, she followed the inspection, looking for symptoms that could explain the teacher’s unusual situation.

The buttons on his left sleeve were open, revealing a red and bruised arm.  By removing the sleeve completely, she discovered what Leron Angelov had been hiding.

Puncture marks covered the inside of his elbow, made so fiercely that a wound had begun to form.

Kate let go of a slow breath and reached into the pockets of his tunic.

“You won’t find anything,” announced Cassandra, “I’ve already taken care of it.”

“What is it that makes him be like this?”

“Something called Billywig.” Kate exhaled at the news. She should have deduced that before. She watched as Cassandra opened a small chest, containing several rows of vials, and grabbed one. “Although you already knew…”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to fool me. Didn’t Rhode ask you to spy on him? To catch him in the act?”

“I’m pretty sure that Rhode doesn’t know about this.” Steiner stared at her.

“Does he sting himself in the greenhouse?”

“Not since you started using it. Thanks for that, by the way, since you started playing teacher, it has been impossible for us to keep track of him.”

Kate frowned. “Us? Who is ‘us’?”

“You’d better get out of here, things are going to get ugly.” As if on cue, Angelov’s body moved. He opened his eyes, injected with blood, and tried to get rid of his bonds with a force that did not seem like his body.

Cassandra forced the contents of a vial into his mouth until it was empty. In a few moments, Leron fell asleep.

“Calming draught?”

“Do me a favour and stop meddling in matters that don’t concern you.” Kate ignored Cassandra’s attempts to keep her in the dark.

“Steiner, who else knows about this?” she asked with a solemnity unbecoming of the situation. “I need you to trust me.”

She wasn’t entirely convinced, but gave her an answer, anyway.

 “Jorgensen. No one else can know about this, understood? If you tell anyone, I will make sure you never set foot in this school again.”

“I wasn’t planning to do that anyway...” she replied, referring to the part about revealing his secret, but also valid for the latter statement. “May I ask... why do you keep the vials... locked up?”

“Because these potions are not part of the school’s inventory. When Igor Karkarov was here, there was no problem; Rhode implemented a budget for ingredients that Jorgensen has to meet.”

“Don’t you grow your own ingredients?”

“I thought you’d noticed that you’re the first person to use the greenhouse in a decade. Kent sometimes picks some herbs from the forest, but it’s not usual.”

“But why do you have them at the hospital wing?”

“Kent and I buy what we need for the potions, he brews them, and we used to keep them in my room until Rhode started bringing in people from the British ministry, guards, inspectors... so we moved them to a place where they wouldn’t ask questions.”

Kate looked at Leron, who was becoming agitated again. “Kent hasn’t found a formula that won’t make us waste so many potions. For now, this is what we can do.”

“Beats his son, you know?” Kate accused.

“When he’s under the influence of the Billywig liquid, he’s not aware of his actions. Giving him so much calming draught doesn’t help his memory either. Micael went into his room. I hadn’t had time to tie him up and his hand slipped out. He went after him for a while, to make sure he said nothing. Most of the time he doesn’t even go near him.”

“That doesn’t speak in his favour either.”

“I didn’t say he was going to win an award for being father of the year.”

“Why are you doing this? Isn’t it better that he’s in a hospital and not teaching?”

“Look where we are, Williams. Many of us have known each other forever. We take care of each other here.”

“And Micael? Do you take care of him too?”

“Of course we do.”

“What about the sticky box that was with the bottles?” Cassandra rolled her eyes, irritated by the interrogation.

“I pick up the billywigs that Leron leaves all over the place and give them to Jorgensen. What’s left of them is useful in some potions.”

Leron awoke with a start, and the mediwizard came to his aid immediately. When he saw Kate, he gripped Cassandra’s wrist.

“Don’t worry. She knows.” Cassandra got rid of the magical bonds and he stood up slowly. He groped the ground and after a while managed to stand up without floating. He eyed Kate as she aired her wand at the tables, making them return to their original place. She felt his mind on her, and she purposely avoided his stare.

“My wife passed away some years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She still didn’t look at him.

“I have the feeling that you’re not” at that she raised her head.

“Why is that?”

“Because of the way you looked at me at the staff meeting. With utter...disgust. You have a very expressive face, even when you think you are concealing it.”

“Your perception of me is based on your own experiences.”

“No. No, I know when a person doesn’t like me. And I could say the same thing to you.” A heavy silence fell over them. Kate watched as Cassandra organised her things.

“My son has good grades in Herbology. I didn’t think that could happen.”

“I am not giving him special treatment just because he’s a professor’s son.”

“I meant nothing of the sort. Just implying that you are.... You know how to connect with children. You... talk with them. Right?”

“Yeah, that’s...how you often interact.”

“I’m not sure if you have a wicked sense of humour or you just really despise me.”

“Everyone, at one time or another, loses a loved one. Sometimes prematurely. That doesn’t give us the right to compromise the safety of those who are still alive.”

“Who are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You appeared out of nowhere. In the middle of the school year, and in a few months you became a teacher and the talk of the town. I hear your name everywhere, from everyone’s lips. And every time I turn around, you are there. One might think... you are up to something.”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Just an observation. But let me give you a piece of advice...”

“No. I won’t tell anyone about your condition if that’s what you’re worried about. But If you hit Micael again I swear....”

“You shouldn’t be threatening me.”

Kate found herself positively conflicted. She meant it when she said she didn’t want to betray their trust, and as a healer she wanted to help him in any way she could. However, the need to protect the boy was competing with her compassion for his father.

Abstracted by her own thoughts, Cassandra’s voice went unnoticed and only caught the last few sentences.

“We’ll get out first. Rhode will be coming to give the Dark Arts lesson now. Don’t tell her about this.” With one last look, they disappeared out the door, leaving Kate alone with her conscience.

She took a few steps towards the wall and exhaled as she let herself fall back slightly. She rested her head on the stone and closed her eyes, seeking the only thing that could comfort her at that moment.

Charlie.

Perhaps if she concentrated enough, she could connect with his mind as she had done the night they spoke through the flu net. She visualised his freckles when the sun hit them, the movement of his fingers when he drew. She tried to remember his laughter...

Kate?

She opened her eyes suddenly. Astrid Rhode looked at her with concern.

“Williams, are you all right?”

No, she hadn’t said her name before. A little upset at her cowardice preventing her from talking to Charlie in a way she would never have imagined. She peeled off the wall and nodded fervently.

“Yes! Yes... “

“Is there anything you should tell me?”

“Nothing at the moment, no. Although... I wanted to ask you: why did you send Professor Marek to stand guard at the back of the castle?”

Rhode raised her eyebrows. “I have done no such thing. Why would I?”

--

[Part 14]

Tag List: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc @cazreadsstuff @the-navistar-carol

@am-i-space​

Coronavirus: Information & Guidelines

What you can do now, and what to prepare for

There seems to be a lack of what-to-do suggestions on tumblr beyond handwashing, so I thought I’d put something together. I’ve never actually encouraged people to reblog something of mine before, but this might be the time. To be clear: I am not personally a public health expert of any kind. Both my parents are (epidemiology/global health degrees, worked for CDC) and I’ve run this by them. My information is coming from disease researchers on twitter and official public health guidelines online. Sources at the end of the post. This is mostly directed at people in countries where COVID-19 has been reported (I’m in the U.S.), but is not *yet* widespread in the community. Written Mar. 1st 2020, last updated 3/9 (shorter, helpful twitter thread here, helpful NPR article here)

General Info

Firstly, a lot of politicians are *still* trying to sugarcoat things, but it should be clear by now that the new coronavirus is spreading widely and will continue to do so. Because of the incubation period, and in the U.S. at least the delay in testing, the number of cases is almost certainly going to increase rapidly in the near future no matter what we do now. Official government sources are helpful, but its also good to look at what experts on viral epidemics who aren’t directly government-affiliated are saying. Their agenda is purely informing the public in the most constructive way possible, without politics getting in the way.

Two key points- COVID-19 can have a long incubation period (the time from when you catch the virus to when you start showing symptoms) and most people don’t get severe symptoms. Some are entirely asymptomatic, but most people get typical flu-like symptoms. Specifically, the early symptoms to watch out for are a fever and dry cough (meaning, a stuffy nose is probably just a regular cold). Its possible but unlikely to transmit the virus while asymptomatic, most transmission happens when you have heavier symptoms.

The most vulnerable people are the elderly (~ over 60) and those with preexisting health conditions (i.e. cardiovascular disease, respiratory condition, diabetes), or a simultaneous infection with something else (NOT kids in particular!) So far the mortality rate has been about 1-2% (compared to 0.1% for the general winter flu - yes, this really is worse). However, that might be an overestimate, both because people with mild cases aren’t getting tested (the denominator should be bigger), and because the early situation in Wuhan, where a lot of our numbers come from, was especially bad in regards to availability of healthcare.

This is an emotional, difficult situation. Don’t panic. The world didn’t end in 1918, and its not going to end now. But it is very serious, and we need to be thinking about it rationally, not pretending everything is just going to be okay, or uselessly pointing blame. Take care of your mental health, and check in with each other. Epidemics test our generosity and selflessness. Those qualities are needed right now, but don’t neglect yourself either.

What You Can Do Now

There is stuff everyone can do both to prevent yourself from getting infected, and to prepare if you do. ***The big picture to keep in mind is that the biggest risk of epidemics is that they overwhelm our system, especially our healthcare system. What I mean by this is that our society is built to deal with a certain volume of things happening at once- people buying groceries, getting sick, etc. If we suddenly all rush to do something, we overburden these systems and they won’t be there for the people who need them most. Therefore our goal is to slow down the spread of disease, buying time and lowering the overall burden on these systems. This is called “flattening the curve”. It looks like this, and I cannot stress how important this is.***

A very helpful thread on preparedness

Staying Healthy

Like similar viruses (think colds and flu), COVID-19 is mostly transmitted from person to person, usually by close contact but sometimes from an infected surface. More here.

Wash your hands. Everyone has heard this one- 20 seconds, soap all over your hands, wash the soap off. If you can’t wash your hands use an alcohol-based hand sanitizer (at least 60% alcohol). But handwashing is absolutely better. Also- cough into your elbow/shoulder, not your hand, and avoid shaking hands- try elbow bumps or maybe a polite nod instead! If you’re handwashing so much that you’re hands are threatening to crack and bleed though, consider washing more strategically or using hand sanitizer instead.

In combination with hand-washing- stop touching your face, especially while out! This takes practice, everyone does it all the time without thinking. A good practice is to avoid touching your face while out, then wash your hands thoroughly as soon as you get home.

Similarly, avoid touching surfaces as much as possible! Particularly bad are door handles, elevator buttons, that kind of thing. The virus can probably (based on studies of related viruses) last a while on these. Regular gloves can help a bit. Use a tissue then throw it away, use your elbow, etc.

Do Not buy face masks! There’s mixed evidence on whether they’re at all helpful when used by the general public to prevent catching a virus, but actual medical professionals who need them are facing shortages (that’s probably part of why so many healthcare workers got sick in Wuhan), so our buying them up is really bad. The only times you should be wearing them is if you yourself are sick (they do help then!) or if you’re looking after a sick person. Seek instruction in that case in how to use them properly. (Thread on why buying those fancy masks is not good).

If COVID-19 is in your community, try to stay 6 feet from people, which basically means going places as little as possible. See below.

Planning Ahead

Its also a good idea to prepare in case you need to self-quarantine. Self-quarantine is necessary if you’ve potentially been exposed to COVID-19, or if you’re sick but not enough to need to go to the hospital. Follow local guidelines- if there’s lots of transmission in your area, nonessential workers will probably be advised to stay home as much as possible.

If you’re able, get medication now. Don’t go crazy and buy out the drug store, just a reasonable amount. Try to get at least a month’s worth of any prescription medications. This can be hard at least in the U.S. - your doctor may well be able to prescribe more, but insurance companies and drug stores can be terrible. I’ve found trying a different drugstore can sometimes help. Try your best. They may also be reluctant to prescribe more to avoid causing shortages. Idk what the right answer is here.

Don’t go crazy and buy out the store, but start getting a little extra shelf-stable or frozen food. Even some root vegetables that will last a few weeks. You want enough for 2 weeks in case of self-quarantine, but you do NOT want to empty out stores. Panic buying is definitely a stress on the system. Just add a few extra things each time you shop. Don’t forget about pets. You can always eat the food and replenish it over time.

Make a plan with your family/community. If someone gets sick or needs to self-quarantine, is there a corner of the house they can stay in? Who can take care of them? etc. I haven’t focused on plans for schools/religious communities/workplaces etc but those are very important too! This is one place where keeping an eye on local and national news is important. In the U.S., for example, school systems are planning ways to make food available to kids if they’re not going to school.

If COVID-19 is starting to spread in your community, think about how else you can be a good community member. Cancelling nonessential doctor’s appointments, surgeries etc may be very important, for example. If schools are closed, can you help out neighbors with childcare? Do you have a cleaner who may need to be payed in advance if there’s a quarantine?

If You Might Be Sick/Need to Quarantine

See likely symptoms above. Remember, normal colds still exist, and if you go to the doctor for every one of those you will overwhelm the system.

Don’t just go to a hospital! Call ahead to your doctor/clinic/hospital and get instructions on what to do. Getting healthcare workers sick is something we really want to avoid. That said, DO get tested as soon as possible, and act as if you are contagious. The health coverage situation is the U.S. is not yet clear (and ofc its not something the current admin is eager to clarify). Hopefully testing will be covered financially by the government, but I can’t promise that at this time.

In the meantime, stay home and quarantined if you show any symptoms of illness if you possibly, possibly can. This is especially difficult in the U.S. if you don’t have sick leave/childcare, but please. Do your utmost.

Look after yourself. Skype/google hangouts/etc is great for keeping connected. Have some chocolate/chicken broth/other sick foods ready.

The Big Picture

Coronavirus/COVID-19 has not been declared a pandemic yet, but it probably will be before long. This is almost certainly going to get worse before it gets better. We don’t yet know if warmer weather will slow its spread, and a vaccine will probably take about 1-1.5 years to be developed and tested. As I mentioned before, the best thing we can do to keep the world working, minimize mortality, etc is to slow the spread as much as we can, and minimize the strain on the system. Hospitals are going to be overwhelmed. There aren’t infinite unoccupied beds or ventilators, or people to operate them, and supply chains could get disrupted. Thinking about these things is scary, and it will take time to adjust to what’s happening. Start that process now, and help everyone you know reach the point where they’re able to act, not panic. Another reassuring thing- if we slow the spread of COVID-19, in addition to fewer total people getting sick, you will soon have people who are recovered and almost certainly immune. These people will be invaluable as helpers in their communities.

Now that the practical stuff is out of the way, I want to say from a U.S. perspective that yes, our lack of social welfare other countries take for granted is going to hurt us. Lack of access to childcare, no guaranteed paid sick leave, and of course expensive healthcare are massive problems that will make it much harder to limit disease transmission. Help each other in any way you can, and vote for candidates that support implementing these policies! And of course, watch out for propaganda of all kinds, whether its using the virus as an excuse for racism, calls to delay elections, etc. So far my biggest concern is a lack of willingness to admit how serious this is, but we can do this. Lets put extra pressure on politicians to be honest and change policies to actually help people. But, yes, lets also stay united. We need each other now (just, you know, 6 feet apart).

A few sources

In general, the Guardian is a great, free, reliable source of news. In the U.S., NPR (website as well as radio) is another great source. The Washington Post and Seattle Times have made their coronavirus-related coverage open access, not sure about other national newspapers.

twitter thread from World Health Organization (WHO)

U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) COVID-19 homepage (not being updated in some ways it should be, like total # of tests)

A reality check from some non-Governmental experts (basically, what governments don’t want to say yet, which is that this virus is going to spread, and the goal now is to infect as few people as possible, as slowly as possible. Read this.)

Why you should act now, not when things get bad in your area (we’re always operating on outdated information)

If you want the latest technical info, The Lancet (major medical journal group) has all of their content compiled here, open access.

I can do my best to answer questions (i.e. ask my dad) but those or other reliable, readily find-able sources should have you pretty well covered. Do let me know if anything on here is wrong or needs to be updated! Stay safe, stay positive, we can do this.

Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 2)

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of addiction

Author notes: that one is a very long part (around 3k words...). I tried to separate it, but it just wouldn’t fit, so here you go...! I think it’s been too long since we’ve had angst, so, as an author, it is my duty to write some for you XD please enjoy it!

"Kunikida-kun is so annoying~" Dazai whined as we arrived at his place "I did help the two of you~"

"Won't you admit that you could have done so earlier…?" I raised an eyebrow, removing my shoes.

"Well, it isn't wrong that it was funny to see you struggle…~" He chuckled.

"See…?" I sighed "That's why Kunikida is so tired of you…"

"Is that so?" He shrugged it off "I didn't know~"

I gave up trying to reason him. After all, messing around with our coworker was also something I did, although less than Dazai.

Even though it had almost been half a year, I still did not have a place of my own. The money I had started saving was not enough to rent an apartment, after all. For the moment, I thus stayed at my friend's, who had not lent me his bedroom. His place was divided in two rooms; a bedroom and a living one, where he was supposed to eat. I was his guest but he had graciously accepted to make me sleep in the living room… What a perfect gentleman Dazai was… Hopefully, I would soon be able to get my own apartment in the Agency's dormitory and sleep in my own comfortable windowless bedroom instead of waking up everyday because of the daylight.

"What about opening a bottle of sake to celebrate the end of the case?" He suggested.

"I don't want to drink tonight…" I declined "Tomorrow, I have an appointment with Yosano-sensei for my… Detoxification therapy…"

"Oh, I see." He did not insist "Let's just have a quiet evening then~"

"I'd like that." I smiled "By the way, did I tell you Uemura-san would teach me how to cook?"

"You didn't. That's great~"

"That's obviously not to feed you." I huffed "It is so I don't have to eat crab cans my entire life."

"You're mean…~ I do eat instant noodles as well…~"

"I can finally eat properly after all this time, it's not to have a diet based exclusively on junk food." I said simply.

"You might be right after all." He hummed "So, should we order something tonight?"

"... I'm still saving money..." I looked away.

"And I'm already indebted to the cafe beneath the Agency… I suppose that's either instant noodles or crab can tonight~"

He had tricked me again…

After eating frugally yet another evening and taking a relaxing bath, I unfolded the futon I borrowed from Dazai and let myself flop down on the mellow blanket, exhausted. Unexpectedly, my friend lied next to me.

"What are you doing…?" I questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm too lazy to go to my room…~ Besides, can't I stay with my friend~?"

"You've never done that before…" I noted. Is there a reason for your sudden behaviour?"

"You're wrong…" He chuckled, pulling a book out of nowhere "We've already been in a similar situation… Numerous times…"

"Cancelling my ability doesn't count…" I looked away.

He sighed slightly and casually started flipping through the pages.

"What are you reading? The same book about suicide methods again?" I asked, changing the subject.

"A good book is still good, no matter how many times you've read it~ Should I try committing suicide like this?"

He showed me the weirdest picture; a man sat in a large can, legs above his head. The method was supposed to kill him by eventually ripping his body in half. I stared at Dazai.

"Do you want my approval or my opinion?"

"I already know you won't give me your blessings for my suicide~" He grinned "Just tell me what you think~"

"Well… The chances you die are very low… It looks more like a… Torture method to me…"

"Eh? So it's painful…?!" He exclaimed, dramatically "I'm not trying that then…"

"I hope not…"

I took a book too, a mystery novel, and tried to distract myself from his annoying humming. I wanted to solve the crime before the fictional detective, but hearing Dazai sing next to me did not help me focus. After a moment, I put the book aside, and turned towards him. He had not turned a single page.

"Dazai…"

"What is it, Ogawa…~?"

"Let's get changed. We're going out." I said, standing up.

"Eh? But I've already taken a bath…~" He whined.

"Don't question it."

I should have doubted that this day would be strange, and that he would feel even more bothered by his usual torments. While he was putting his shirt on, I called the Fox.

"Do you know what time it is…?" He grumbled.

"Early enough, since you're awake." I smirked "I need you to find me something important… I need them in an hour…"

When I told him what I wanted, he yelled at me, but it was quick to hang up and avoid his scolding.

"So? Where are we going?" My friend asked me.

"You already know the answer…"

A shadow clouded his face, and he simply nodded. It had already been three years since that tragedy, yet it still seemed as present in our mind. Softly, I opened the door for him and called a taxi. It was dark, outside, a moonless night only enlightened by the stars and the lampposts in the streets. In that part of the world, humans still had the luxury to protect themselves against the monsters of the darkness.

The Fox was waiting for us in front of the cemetery, a bouquet of white lilies in his hands. As he gave them to me, he whispered:

"You owe me one."

I only nodded, and asked that we were left alone. Far from the entrance, under a majestic tree, which branches gently flustered with the wind, laid a single gravestone which bore the name of Dazai's late and most precious friend. When I looked at him, despite the lack of light, I saw he was expressionless. And motionless, too. I took his hands into mine, and placed the bouquet into them with a smile.

"This is important for you… Take all the time you need."

"... Thank you… You remembered…"

"In all honesty, I thought you'd slack off to pay him a visit, today… I'm sorry I was wrong…"

"Don't wait for me and just… Go back…"

I pulled the key to his apartment from my pocket.

"You know, I closed the door earlier. And…"

I placed them in his coat.

"I can't go back if you have them."

"Ogawa, I —"

"I'll be just at the entrance."

Surprisingly, the Fox was still there when I went out of the cemetery. I grinned at him.

"So~ What can I do to repay you for your help~?"

"Aren't you tired, Ogawa-san?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, and crossed my arms.

"What's with the sudden politeness? It's unlike you to be so formal…"

"I thought you might take me more seriously like that."

His face was severe. It was the first time I saw him without a childish expression and, suddenly, he did not seem like a teenager anymore. That reminded me we were the same age.

"Alright. Tired of what, Fox? I'll answer you, just… Drop that "-san"... I'm not used to it from you…" I gave up.

"Sure, I didn't plan to call you that endlessly anyway." He shrugged "Just tell me… How long are you going to pretend you're happy?"

"What are you talking about? My life really has changed for the better. I never thought I'd reach twenty-one years old, in the first place and I can even control my ability…" I sighed "Everyone in the Agency is so friendly, and I'll finally get treated for that damn morphine addiction, how can't I be happy…?"

"Well, since humans are all different, we all have various ways of being happy. Ogawa, I'm afraid your own happiness revolves a bit too much around… Him." He pointed at Dazai with his chin.

My friend was joyously chatting with the tombstone, as though his surroundings had disappeared, and as though I did not exist anymore. In his world, there was space only for him and Odasaku… I smiled slightly.

"You look as though you revealed me the purpose of my existence." I chuckled "I already know that, unfortunately… But he is my precious friend, the one I want to be happy…"

"At the cost of a fulfilled life of your own?"

"Nothing will fill the emptiness in my chest, except for his smile, maybe… I'm touched that you are concerned about me, Fox… But I assure you I am fine."

"What's the point of fighting so hard to earn the right to live, if it is to give it all up to a person who doesn't even see how soaked in blood the heart you give him is…?" He angrily shoved his hands in his pockets "Don't you ever tell me I didn't warn you…"

"I promise I won't." I giggled "You remind me of someone, a man I knew… I think you could call him my friend. Behind his rough facade is hidden a very sensitive poet…~ He usually had the right words to put me back on track…"

"Let me guess… You didn't listen to him at all…?"

"Am I so predictable?" I laughed "You're right, though… I didn't listen to him… So, I became addicted to morphine, then entered the Armed Detective Agency to be with Dazai… I don't regret it, nonetheless."

"I see… So you're the type who doesn't care about advice. That's good to know…" He mumbled "Anyway, let's talk about business."

"Mmh. I do owe you a favour. Do tell me what it is." I said, leaning back on a wall.

"In fact, I've been meaning to make that request to you a moment ago, but that's just the opportunity I needed." He told me, pulling a picture out of the pocket of his jacket "I have a friend. We grew up together, then got separated. I lost my parents and… Forget it. He's now a brilliant chemist, and he wants to open a laboratory in Hokkaido for his research. The government already agreed, but the locals aren't too fond of the project. He's already survived three assassination attempts… Could you protect him, please?"

"Being a bodyguard, eh…?" I took a look at the picture "You know I'm not bad at this kind of job. Well, I'll accept your request. I've been meaning to visit Hokkaido, after all…"

"I know. That's where I told you your sister is…" He remembered "Will it be alright for you?"

"I never said I'd meet her… What is your friend's research about?"

"It's complicated, but I think he's working on a formula to create petrol, you know… Instead of importing it."

"That's a very polluting business… I do understand the locals…" I frowned "I don't want to support him…"

"I know right? It's just… It's been more than five years since our ways have drifted apart… When he reached out to me, I couldn't help agreeing despite being powerless… I thought I could count on you." The Fox rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course you can. I'll handle the case for you. You've done so much to help me, I can't refuse a friend's request either." My lips turned upwards.

"I knew working with a detective was the best…" He snickered.

"That's because you work with the best one." I winked "I'll leave as soon as possible, maybe in a week."

"Oh, you're going to start therapy tomorrow?"

"... How do you know…?"

"You told me you would get treated soon, and I guessed you believed you'd feel better after a week, which is wrong, but I can only support you from afar." He shrugged.

"Why don't you work as a detective, too?" I laughed "I know it's going to be hard… But I'll manage, somehow. I have to… I'm this close to getting rid of that disgusting habit of mine…"

"Is that so?"

I nodded, and shivered. Although it was a summer night, the sudden breeze felt cold, and I tightened my tattered coat around me. My last trench had been ruined by my first case for the Agency and, since, I had only been able to afford an old, second-hand one which had already been well-used. Before buying new clothes, I needed to have my own place. These holes were not a bother to me, anyway…

"It's almost two…" The Fox noticed "If you start your treatment today, you may want to sleep, Ogawa… Otherwise, it'll be unbearable for you."

"Are you worried about me? That's so nice~ You're showing me your soft side today~"

"I've been worried about you since the first day we met…!" He suddenly raised his voice "Even though you were wearing a mask, your hands were so thin, and your clothes looked too big for you. And when you spoke… You would frequently pause to take your breath. You regularly came for the Mafia, and I do worry about my customers. If they die, I can't be paid…"

"... Was I really like that…?" I muttered "Whatever… I'm glad to have such a caring friend~"

"... Are you never going to take me seriously…?"

"I do take you seriously. However, as I said, you need not concern yourself with me. I am and will be fine."

"Idiot…"

It was touching that he cared about me to this extent. Five months ago, when I had come to him again to seek his skills as an informer, I had been such a troublesome customer, I had believed he would never want to work with me again. Thanks to Uemura-san, the Fox had dedicated his time to the cases I managed for the Agency, but, more importantly, we had gotten closer, to the point of becoming friends who playfully teased each other. However, I had never predicted that he would be so concerned about me. He had gone out of his way many times to help me out, going as far as finding Ruriko-chan and giving me, without charging me, all the information he had gathered about her life. I had not considered that I could be a person one could ever care about… It did feel nice, and I was ashamed that I had not, indeed, taken his feelings seriously.

We remained quiet, listening to the peaceful night of Yokohama. My eyes closed, and my ears were filled with sounds of all sorts. Above us, the wind danced in the tree leaves, gently accompanied by the distant song of the sea, which gently undulated under the thick veil of darkness covering the sky. Even Dazai had stopped chatting to silently honour his late friend's memory. The lamppost which enlightened the space around us started flickering, tired and old, before suddenly turning off. We moved towards another one, without a word.

I thought time had stopped, suspended by the beautiful concert nature was offering us, but I noticed I was wrong when I raised my eyes and saw the sky had cleared up, slowly taking its usual blue shade. That day would be a sunny one, I thought when my gaze fell onto the clouds coloured in warm orange watercolour by the rising sun. It was already dawn… We had spent the entire night out, and I had not gotten a single minute of sleep, unlike the Fox, who had succumbed to Morpheus as soon as we had moved to another lamppost. He was still standing, arms crossed and faced down. One could think he simply closed his eyes, but his slow and heavy breathing betrayed him. So, the best informer of Yokohama had the special skill to sleep anywhere, at any moment and in any position… It was a valuable one, yet a weakness he would not want his enemies to know of. This was proof that he trusted me… I could always use this information to tease him.

"... Is it… Already morning…?" He mumbled, sleepily.

"It seems so…"

"He's still not done…?" He frowned "For f*ck's sake, he made you wait the entire night and —"

"It's important to him… That's his late friend's death anniversary, after all…"

"... Aren't you his friend too…? And a living one, on top of that…!"

"Fox, it's enough… I'm tired, I can't bear your shouts so early, this day…" I stopped him.

"Right..  I'm sorry." He shoved his hands in his pocket "Well, do as you wish. I have work, today, so I'll head to my place. Thanks for accepting my request, by the way."

"You're my friend, it's my pleasure." I assured him.

He glanced at me, a strange, indescribable feeling reflecting in his eyes, before turning around and walking away. I could understand why he disapproved that I supported Dazai; any sane person would have already gone back to sleep, after all, and I knew no one who would be able to wait as much as I had. Even so, I felt it was my duty to be with him, from afar, so I could be there when he would be tired and broken by this peculiar night. It had always been my role…

I jumped in surprise when I sensed a coat suddenly covering my shoulders, on top of mine.

"I'm sorry, Ogawa… You must have been so cold… And it is the start of your treatment, too… I'm sorry…" Dazai apologised.

His hands did not leave my shoulders, and I pleasantly felt warmer, simply by being close to him. I smiled, gently.

"It's alright. I promised I would wait for you, after all. Besides, I wasn't alone. The Fox kept me company. He left just a few minutes ago." I told him.

"Is that so…? That's good."

"Yes… Are you ready to go, now?"

"Mmh. I'll go back to my place and slack off as usual~ What about you?"

"I guess I'll come with you. Yosano-sensei said she'd be waiting for me in front of the dormitory anyway." I told him.

"I see… It must be ready then~"

"What is…?" I raised an eyebrow.

"That's a secret~" He chuckled "Let's go~ I want to see the face you're going to make~"

"I'm a tad afraid of what I'll see though…"

"I can't say a thing~" He hummed, putting his hands on his hips.

He would usually put them in his pockets… But…

"Dazai…! Your coat…!" I followed behind him.

"You can keep it, I'm not that cold~"

"It's barely six a.m.…! There is no way you aren't cold…!" I protested.

"I'm not taking it back~"

"Dazai…!"

Random midnight Miraculous ladybug reveal musings... I do not know how to put a cut thingy... I am noob. I am sorry. Thankfully only like, 4 people actively see my posts, so...

"Ladybug, we can't defeat this villain on our own, we need help! You're the guardian now, can't you give someone a miraculous?"

Ladybug dodged another attack from their current foe, grabbing Chat Noir's arm and pulling him off the ledge of the building. Using her yoyo, she lowered them safely to the ground and they found themselves in an alleyway.

"That's a great idea, kitty, except ALL the temporary miraculous users have been exposed!" The annoyance in her voice wasn't meant to be so noticeable, and she knew it wasn't his fault. No.. it was most decidedly HER fault the Miracle box had been compromised and Master Fu had been forced into his 'early' retirement. Ladybug scowled.

Chat ran to check if the villain had seen where they landed. So far, so... well, not good, but the duo hadn't been spotted. Yet.

Chat turned back towards the polka dotted heroine and winced momentarily at the scowl on her face. "Not all of them, my lady."

Her face relaxed slightly, but confusion took over as she mentally ticked off everyone she'd entrusted with a miraculous... "who...?"

"Marinette!" Chat sang, his face beaming as Ladybug's eyes grew wide. Her hands went over her mouth, nearly absorbing her whispered words:

"How... how did you find out?"

Chat tilted his head in confusion, but figured she was simply having a memory lapse.

"Remember when the teacher at that school tried to capture our kwamis? You gave the mouse miraculous to Marinette. She helped us defeat Kwamibuster? We even let her use MY miraculous..." he scratched his head thoughtfully "...honestly, she was so good that day, I can't believe you haven't had her help us again. Just because I know her identity..."

Ladybug breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, Marinette wouldn't exactly be useful right now... she decided to interrupt Chat's muttering about how he should know everything Ladybug knows now that she's the guardian and that means temporary miraculous user identities and not leaving him out like she did with Master Fu and-

"Kitty, that's a great idea, but.. um... I think Marinette is uh.. unavailable...."

Chat stopped his ranting and tilted his head again. "What? Why? I saw her just before we started fighting. Give me her miraculous, I'll find her before you can say-"

"Adrien Agreste!"

Chat's pupils turned to thin slivers as he gaped at her. "Wha-what??"

Ladybug didn't seem to notice her partner's panick and continued..

"I gave him the snake miraculous, back when we fought-"

"Desperada", Chat finished, glumly.

"Er... yes. I actually hadn't told you about that... it ended up not working out too well, and Luka used it instead. Chat, are you alright? What's wrong?" She rushed to her partner who looked like a child who had been told Christmas was cancelled.

He realllly didn't want to remember his failures that day.

Letting out a small sigh, he looked into Ladybug's eyes.

"I don't think that's going to work, either, my lady. Adrien is... also unavailable." His eyes darted back and forth between hers, as if he was watching them play table tennis over her nose.

Ladybug wasn't so easily convinced, however.

"What do you mean 'unavailable'? He was helping people hide just before you joined me. Hold on, I'll go get the miraculous and find him. He's had a LOT of practice with it, so this time I'm sure it will work out!" Her smile was so... genuine and full of what looked like... pride? Chat felt butterflies that had nothing to do with Hawk Moth fluttering in his throat and stomach, but he couldn't let her go on a wild goose chase when the goose was already right in front of her.

"No!" He grabbed her wrist just before she could release her yoyo out. "Chat, what the hell?"

"Adrien can't use the snake miraculous. It was a disaster for him last time!"

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. "What do you even know about it, Chat? You didn't even show up that day until after he'd given up and suggested Luka use it instead. How did you even KNOW he had used it, let alone that it 'was a disaster' for him, hmm?" Chat didn't know finger quotes could look so angry. He swallowed and desperately tried to think of something to get him out of this tangle up. He could hear the akuma villain yelling for them, demanding their miraculous, and generally causing more destruction for them to sort through later, and his mind eventually landed on Ladybug's earlier excuse...

"Why can't I go find Marinette? She's much better at this sort of thing than Adrien was! She even unified Mullo and Plagg! That takes a lot of strength to pull off, and she was amazing at it!" his eyes shone at the memory of Multimouse boldly asking him for his ring as he hid in a banana suit... of her bringing it back to him as promised, of her problem solving skills that rivaled Ladybug's... and of her handing back the mouse miraculous and detransforming into his klutzy and awkward classmate. Huh. She definitely wasn't either of those things that day... Realizing Ladybug had been talking, he tried to tune in as if he hadn't been lost in his own thoughts when time was so precious.

"... the bakery and her parents are probably there so it would be impossible to get her the miraculous without them seeing, and that wouldn't be safe.. look, Chat, we can't waste anymore time. Why don't you want Adrien using a miraculous? Why don't you trust him? Why don't you trust ME? We don't have a lot of options, but as much as you don't like this, I'm the one who has to make the final decisions. Will you help me with this, or not?" Her eyes were shining, but this time with unshed tears.

Chat reached his hand out, palm up, wordlessly asking to take her own. Sighing, she rested her hand in his and looked into his eyes, trying to hide the hurt in her own.

"Ladybug, it's not that I don't trust you. Please believe me when I say this.. there is no one in this world I trust more than you, my lady. You're going to have to find Miranette. Please forgive me for this. I know it's not ideal, but..." Chat Noir closed his eyes.

It was Ladybug's turn to tilt her head to the side. "Chat..? What are you-"

"Plagg, claws in."

....

...

After a few quiet moments, Adrien opened his eyes.

Ladybug had her hands over her face again, and the parts he could see matched the red of her gloves so well they almost disappeared entirely. She made a small noise that sounded eerily like a dog who just had his tail stepped on by a distracted human.

"....Ladybug? Can... can you say something? A-anything?" His voice cracked with anxiety. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked hopefully at Plagg, who had wisely chosen to keep his mouth shut, for a change.

Ladybug wasn't sure how to talk anymore, but her partner, her friend, her crush... was looking at her as though his heart was in her hands and she ran to him and threw her arms around him and let out a strangled laugh.

"Abrien! I can't believe it's you! I can't.. I can't process this time at this reveal, but we should tefinitely dalk once we defeat this akuma!"

Ladybug was stuttering and jumbling her words now? Because she found out his identity? Adrien felt something akin to deja vu but couldn't quite place it..

"So, my lady, think you should go get someone to help who isn't already a superhero?" he pulled his signature flirtatious smirk (which worked waaaay better without the mask covering his eyebrows, Ladybug noticed).

"Um...." she wasn't quite ready to reveal her own identity, and tried to figure out a solution that didn't involve going to look for herself...

"Look, Ladybug, the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can both unify Tiki and me with other kwamis to give you kids more power. He's going to find out anyway, since we all know you can't speak coherently around him anymore, knowing who he really is."

Adrien and Ladybug turned to look at the smug cat kwami who was now burrowing in Adrien's shirt pocket for cheese. Something finally clicked in Adrien's brain and his eyes shot up at the red faced super heroine who hadn't even been able to say his name properly since he detransformed. She suddenly found her fingertips incredibly interesting.

"....Marinette?"

"H-hi."

---------

Possibly to be continued, if anyone us interested. They still have a villain to fight, after all, though I'm no good with battles. XD

WAZZUP?! THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER OF ANGEL IN GOTHAM! Demon in Gotham has another four chapters but THIS IS THE LAST ONE OF THIS FIC!

EVERYBODY PANIC

Wait no don’t actually pls... I’m sorry

Thank you wonderful @ozmav for creating the au that inspired me to write this. I apologize in advance to you.

LETS G-GO GO GO

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

FANART! I GOT FANART GUYS!! Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman !!! If ANY of you draw ANY fanart PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tag me!!!!!

oooOOOooo

The Unnamed Teenager That Defeated The Riddler Cripples Joker!

Just days after beating The Riddler at his own game, the same teenage girl holds off The Joker until Batman arrives!

“We had to amputate him below the knee,” Arkham doctor says. “There was too much glass in the wound, it cut several muscles, tendons, and arteries. The shattered bone didn’t help.”

French Teenager Unavailable for Comment.

[Read More]

oooOOOooo

Their trip to Gotham was ending early, all because of her.

Marinette woke up in the hospital. Professor Mendeleiev was there. She apparently fainted due to asphyxiation. She had a cut on her hand, and rugburn on her feet, and had been out for nine hours. The doctor told her it was a miracle she wasn’t more heavily injured after encountering the Joker. Professor Mendeleiev glared at them until they stopped talking about it.

She was discharged soon after. On the way to the hotel, Professor Mendeleiev told her what happened while she was out. The rest of the trip was canceled because of two students being attacked by the Joker, though Marinette’s confrontation with the Riddler hadn’t helped the case. They would be going home that evening. They’re leaving for the flight in two hours – 3:30pm.

“Bruce Wayne graciously paid for our flight back,” Professor Mendeleiev said. Marinette would have felt sick hearing it if she wasn’t so numb from everything.

Her parents had been informed about what happened. She should probably call them soon.

“Your friends tried to visit you in the hospital,” Professor Mendeleiev finished as they pulled up to, the now heavily guarded, hotel. “Unfortunately, only your guardian for the trip was allowed visitation, which is me.”

Her mind instantly went to Damian but- “Friends?”

An almost sad look appeared Professor Mendeleiev’s face, but it was gone so quick Marinette believed it to be imagined. “Yes. The Wayne boy and some classmates. Kim and Alix.”

Her heart lurched to her throat. Kim? Alix? She didn’t think anyone else cared anymore but…

She and Kim had distanced over the years, but when they were younger he was like her brother. She and Alix hadn’t talked much. She didn’t think either of them cared anymore.

She got out of the car. Professor Mendeleiev had brought Marinette some of her other clothes so she wasn’t wearing the bloody crop top and pajama pants. Her t-shirt and jeans were plain enough that she might be able to slide past the others she could see in the lobby.

Marinette hoped.

She walked in, Professor Mendeleiev behind her.

“Marinette!” A huge body slammed into her. Its arms wrapped around her and soon she was spinning.

“Careful, idiot,” she heard Alix say. “Don’t break her!”

The arms set her down and – oh it’s Kim. His eyes were red and puffy. A glance showed that Alix’s eyes were too. Why were they like that?

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said genuinely.

“Me too,” Alix playfully punched her shoulder. “You beat the Joker! You’re bada-”

“Get away from her,” Another voice cut in, sharp. Marinette glanced up to see Alya keeping her distance from them, standing in front of Lila. From what she could see of the Italian, her hair was now in a single much shorter ponytail – or bun? Maybe it was a braid.

Alix crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You heard what Lila said,” Alya’s voice was angry. Marinette was numb to it. “She-”

“Alya,” Professor Mendeleiev chose that moment to step in. “I don’t care what Lila has been telling you, but stop yelling at her and her friends.”

Marinette jolted at the word. Friends.

“She needs to go to her room and pack for the flight back to Paris tonight anyway. Allow her to leave.”

Her class, most of them surrounding Lila, stared in stunned silence.

After a moment, Marinette went to the Elevator. She was given a new room key during the drive to the hotel.

She felt like the hallway security police were staring at her as she walked to her room.

They thought she was a freak. Everyone did.

When Marinette entered her room, she was immediately hit in the face.

“Marinette!” Tikki whispered, knowing there were others outside her door. “I’m so sorry, I should have gone with you I-”

“It’s okay Tikki,” Marinette was still numb, but it was better than dissociating. It was better than crying.

“No,” Tikki’s eyes were filled with shining tears. “It’s not.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t alright.

Instead of answering, she focused on her room again. She still remembered everything from the other night, but this would be her last time seeing it.

The sheets are scratchy, she remembered. The fabric was still clearly cheap.

The bed was stiff. She knew it was hard sleeping on it, but it was hard sleeping anyway for her.

Her entire hotel room was bland. A mess of off-white and white. It was bright, and it needed more color. More design to it.

She could see the creepy painting of two children in a bucket on the wall from the door. It was black and white except for the blue color of their shirts. Their eyes were still wide, but they seemed to stare at her now. Maybe they thought she was a freak too.

The familiar surroundings made it easy to spot the not-so-familiar changes she made. Her sketchbook was brightly colored, closed on her desk. Her dirty clothes were on the floor in the corner. The entire room was a mess of cut fabric and cardboard from the previous hours she spent designing and making-

The Thing.

She’d taken to calling it The Thing. She felt that if she acknowledged what it was, even in her own mind, she would break. She would break and someone would have to pick up the shattered pieces.

She cleaned up the mess. The few scraps of fabric left weren’t enough to make a design out of so she threw them away.

Marinette repacked her suitcase and backpack, making sure to account for absolutely everything. She checked once, twice. Tikki checked. Then she checked again. The only things she hadn’t packed were her phone and her sketchbook, both of which currently laid on her bed.

She still had an hour before they left to go to the airport.

The Thing was still hanging in her hotel room’s closet. It was small and cramped with only two hangers, a small shelf, and no door. She had shoved The Thing to the very back so she couldn’t see it unless she stood directly in front of the closet.

She went there now. She was staring at it.

She didn’t break, but she could feel cracks. Chips and pieces of herself fell to the ground.

Marinette’s hands shook as she took it from the closet.

She glanced at her sketchbook.

oooOOOooo

“Hi Maman, Papa,” Marinette greeted her parents.

After she finished with her little project, Tikki convinced her to call her parents. Though, she didn’t need that much convincing. It was a long flight, and she wouldn’t be able to call or message them while on it.

She still had fifty minutes left until she needed to go to the lobby.

“Marinette!” Her papa’s eyes were red and puffy too. Maman was still crying. “My little girl! Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” her voice sounded wobbly and wrong. “I wasn’t even heavily injured.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Maman’s eyes had a fire in them. Marinette wished she still had hers. “I’m just glad you’re coming home soon.”

“We’re going to wrap you in bubble wrap,” her Papa’s voice was also wobbly. “So this can’t ever happen to our baby girl again.”

Marinette tried to imagine that, for a moment. Ladybug fighting akuma while wearing bubble wrap armor.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I know it was scary-”

“Understatement of the year!” her Maman grumbled.

“But I lived!”

“Yes, you did,” Her Papa’s voice was still wobbly, but proud too. Marinette felt her heart lurch to her throat again.

She hated it when people were worried about her.

“You not only lived,” her mother wiped her eyes, “But Marinette, they had to cut off one of his legs-”

What?

“He’ll be down for the count until he can properly use his prosthetic!”

She what?

“You may have saved more people, doing that-”

She… she did that…

She permanently and irreversibly damaged someone beyond repair.

“They even did a news article about it! My baby girl, making Gotham’s news!”

The entirety of Gotham knew she hurt the Joker. Hurt him so bad he didn’t have all of his body left.

“She’s anonymous in it though, Tom.”

No wonder the security guards were staring at her.

“Even better! We know who she is but others don’t! I’m even more proud.”

She wasn’t just a freak.

“You would be, darling.”

She was a monster.

“Marinette?” Tikki whispered.

“Honey?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she tried to sound normal. Look normal. Hide her claws and flaws.

She’s a monster.

“I’ve got to finish getting ready,” she lied. It was heavy on her tongue but she didn’t care. Guilt was heavy, too heavy, but she didn’t care anymore.

“Thank you for calling us!”

“Try not to look for anymore villains!”

“I won’t,” That, she could answer honestly. “Goodbye, Maman, Papa.”

“I swear you’re her favori-” her father’s grumblings were cut off as Marinette hung up the call.

“Marinette?” Tikki tried again.

Marinette stared at her hands. She couldn’t see the blood, it wasn’t there anymore, but she could still picture it there. Blood that she caused.

She was a horrible person. Her actions were inexcusable. Monstrous.

Guilt was crushing her. It weighed on her shoulders and tongue, pushing her down and down. She waited for it to squish her like a bug. She hoped it would squish her like the bug she is.

Someone knocked on her door.

Marinette was numb. Like a zombie, she got up to open it. She already knew who it was.

Damian’s hair was messy. He wore a gray hoodie. She suspected he had the hood up until recently to try and conceal his identity as Damian Wayne.

She remembered how as Robin, when she punched The Riddler, he had been messy then too. Now she knew why – he had rushed to change into costume to help.

The memory hit her hard. She could see both of them standing there – Damian and Robin.

She looked at him. She didn’t break. It was a close thing.

His eyes weren’t red or puffy. His hands were stuffed in his pockets.

He looked normal.

Marinette wondered how much makeup he wore to hide his lack of sleep from being a superhero. She didn’t have hers on right now.

“Angel,” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Are you… okay?”

She managed to smile. It was fake. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she tried to joke.

It fell flat.

Without another word, she stepped back and opened the door wider for him. He walked in, pausing on the creepy painting.

“I know,” she mumbled. “It’s weird.”

He huffed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he says, and Marinette understands.

She knows he isn’t apologizing as Damian. He’s apologizing as Robin. She can remember doing this when she had friends who got hurt. ‘I’m sorry, I should have been there.’ She knows what the meaning is beyond the words he actually says.

She knows he’s apologizing to a monster.

“You didn’t have to be,” she says, speaking to Damian. “I would have been too worried about you to… to…”

The words die in her throat but she knew what they were. To hurt the Joker. To damage him beyond repair.

“I was still,” he seemed to fight with his words too, “worried.” He spits it like a curse, like he hates saying it. Like he hates her.

Marinette could understand that. She hated having to be worried about Lila last night.

She ignored the hurt.

“You don’t have to be,” she mumbles, going over to the desk so she can sit.

“Are you fully packed?” he changed the subject.

“Yeah,” she sat at her desk. Her sketchbook, missing a few pages, was on it. Her phone was in her pocket. The rest of her suitcase and backpack were gathered by the foot of her bed.

The clock on the bedside table had a bright red glow. It was one of those electric ones.

She had forty-five minutes left.

The conversation lulled.

“I’m a bad friend.”

She ignored the pain.

“What?” Damian jerked. “What makes you say that? Why would you say that? There’s no reason for you to think that, Ange- Marinette.”

She tried not to flinch.

“There is,” she said slowly. “I don’t deserve you. You shouldn’t have to suffer a friendship with me.”

“What? Angel-”

“I’m a horrible person, and you shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

“What are you saying?” His eyes were wide, almost frantic. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m not supposed to,” she could feel a tear slide down her cheek. “You… you’ll understand soon.”

Damian looked lost. “Angel-”

“I’m not an angel,” she got up, heading to the closet. “I don’t deserve that name.”

“Please, you’re not making any sense,” she paused outside of the closet. Why did he sound so hurt? He had to hate her.

She was a monster, and monsters deserved to be hated.

“I’m an awful person, a horrible friend,” she whispered. “I’m protecting you from me.”

“I don’t need prote-”

In one quick move she grabbed a shoddy sketchbook paper-wrapped rectangle and threw it at the bed next to him.

“That’s yours,” her voice was wobbling. Tears were falling off her face and onto her shirt. “Open it when I leave, then you’ll understand why I can’t be your friend anymore.”

This was the most expressive she’s ever seen Damian. His face seemed to fall, and he picked it up carefully.

“You don’t want to… to be my friend?” he whispered. His eyes were shiny, and he sounded like he was about to cry. It was probably from relief.

She was a monster, and monsters didn’t deserve happiness.

“I don’t deserve to,” Marinette corrected.

She betrayed his trust. She went behind his back and discovered something about him that she wouldn’t ever be able to forget – not in this universe.

He didn’t deserve someone like that. He wasn’t a monster like she was, and deserved someone better to be his friend and to comfort him and-

“I need to call my parents,” she lied again. She loathed liars and now she was one. But that was okay.

She was a monster, and monsters deserved to be loathed.

If anything, Damian looked even more hurt. He didn’t say anything though, simply taking the package and walking out the door.

He didn’t slam it. He closed it with a soft click.

“Marinette,” Tikki sounded horrified. “What did you do?”

“He-he deserved better,” Marinette sobbed. “He doesn’t-doesn’t deserve… He doesn’t deserve…”

She broke down into sobs then. Ugly, horrible sobs that her hotel room pillow didn’t fully muffle.

“You can still fix this!” Tikki cried. “You can call him, you have his number, or-”

Marinette shook her head. She couldn’t.

She was a monster, and monsters didn’t deserve to love.

Oh.

Oh no.

She loved him.

She…

She was in love with Damian.

Marinette’s tears started fresh. She was in love with Damian. She couldn’t pinpoint a when, but she was…

It felt soothing, for a moment. It was not as obsessive as her crush on Adrien was, but something calmer. It flowed like a stream, natural.

But now, the stream was boiling. It hurt to breathe, to move, to think, because she loved Damian.

And she didn’t deserve him.

She now felt all of the hurt, the pain, everything she had been ignoring, full force.

It was mint it was chains it was tight throats and burning lungs and sobs.

It was painful.

oooOOOooo

Five minutes until they leave the hotel for the airport. Marinette had her backpack on her back, her suitcase in hand, and her sketchbook under her arm. Her phone was in her pocket and Tikki was in her backpack.

When she arrived at the lobby, everyone was waiting in groups. She saw several red and puffy eyes, none as worse as Lila Rossi.

Oddly enough, she sat alone.

Kim was the first to see her. He was pacing and looked up when he heard her quiet footsteps. “Mari,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

What?

“What?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t wobbly, but it cracked.

“I’m sorry too,” Alix piped up. “We may have gotten suspicious toward the end, but we still believed Lila for years. I’m sorry.”

What?

They… didn’t believe Lila?

Other classmates began to step forward, shame-faced. Rose was still crying. Juleka’s hair hid one eye, but the other was still shining as well.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry,” the small blonde cried. “Lila, she did that, and-and you’re you and you don’t deserve it and-”

“What?” she was still confused. What… what happened? Why were they…

“Damian Wayne was here earlier,” Alix stepped in. “He called Lila out on her bullsh-”

“Alix!” Ms. Buistier cried.

“He called you out too, you know,” Alix snapped back immediately. “And don’t think I’m not going to bring up all the points he argued about you to the school board.”

Ms. Bustier paled considerably. Marinette was worried she’d faint.

“The point is, he called Lila out for all the lies she told,” Kim frowned. “Well, the ones he knew of. The rest of us filled in the blanks for him.”

“It helped when the police showed us the security footage of last night,” Juleka mumbled. “Alya couldn’t argue with facts.”

Alya, also sitting alone, flinched.

“You don’t have to forgive any of us,” Rose was still crying. “We don’t deserve it. But I- I still wanted to apologize.”

“Same,” Alix grumbled. Kim nodded.

Marinette was still confused.

She was a monster, and monsters deserved to be detested.

But they didn’t detest her.

At least, not anymore.

Professor Mendeleiev clapped her hands to get the class’ attention. Everyone began to file into the bus to go to the airport.

The security officer policeman nodded to her on her way out. Marinette wished they hadn’t seen her.

On the bus, she still sat alone. She knew they wanted to give her space, but Marinette didn’t care.

Her phone was in her hand. She opened up her and Damian’s text chat. She was going to delete all the messages. She had to delete them. She had to…

She didn’t want to. These were the only proof she had that their friendship existed.

She found herself rereading messages on the way to the airport. She’d never find a nickname for him in the chat, she realized. Her endeavor failed.

But Marinette already felt terrible, so what was a little more scorn? After all, she betrayed her best and only friend. She betrayed him. She ended their friendship because he deserved better. She made sure he hated her. And she couldn’t even delete her only reminder of the whole thing. She was pathetic.

She didn’t break.

She wished she did.

Here’s a little rant about this whole COVID-19 situation. I read somewhere that historians from the future would love it if more people write about what’s going on on a day-to-day basis, especially in times like this (hi future historians! *waves*), and I do think it’s useful for me to let some of these thoughts out instead of just keeping them all to myself, so here’s a little rant. 

The COVID-19, or the coronavirus disease of 2019, apparently, became really pronounced around the Chinese New Year of 2020. I’m Indonesian of a Chinese descent, but now I’m studying in a university in Canada. So, at the start, I was just, okay, whatever. It’s spreading in China, and there’s a few cases in Canada because people travel to their hometown in China during Chinese New Year and come back, no big deal. They can lock down the city, and keep people who do have it and have traveled back to wherever they live in quarantine and nothing big will happen. Oh boy was I wrong. 

My friends started joking about the coronavirus at first. It’s really not a big deal for us in Canada, and we have much, much bigger concerns, like finishing our problem sets and our next midterm. So they started joking about it, and I didn’t think anything of it other than noticing how my brother can’t go back to university in Hong Kong because they are closing the universities there. Oh, and let’s not forget, my brother hasn’t been in school for a couple months because of the riots of Hong Kong, and now he can’t even go back. People were joking about how the Chinese government develops this virus to end the Hong Kong riots. 

Then, as things started to get worse, racism happened. Yay. As I said, I’m of Chinese descent, so I look Chinese, Even if I don’t, I’m Asian, and people started to suspect EVERY SINGLE ASIAN PERSON to have the virus. At this point I haven’t even left Canada in months, because the flight time home, even for winter break, is horrendous, and if I had the virus it would be because someone gave it to me in Canada, which means the odds of you getting it is about the same as me getting it. It reaches a point where I’m scared of coughing in public, because people will then think I have the virus. 

Not to mention that I’m still monitoring how things goes in Indonesia, since it is my country. Until months after the outbreak happened, there is no single case in Indonesia. And people started to think that it’s because Indonesia just doesn’t have the capabilities of testing for the virus. Like, are you kidding me? I’m all about criticizing how the Indonesian public health system is, but you don’t have a leg to stand on by saying how Indonesia is a possibly dangerous country to get infected with COVID-19 when you already have the cases of COVID-19 in your own country. Yes, I’m talking to you, Australia and Singapore. Shut up, and deal with the people in your own countries. 

But then, of course, things don’t just stop there. More and more cases started to sprout up, and with it, of course, more and more misinformation. Theories about how the COVID-19 is about China developing this virus to take over the world. Like what? And things about deaths because of COVID-19, people spreading panic, and of course, because of smartphones and social media, people who have no idea how to filter information spreads this information even further. Unfortunately, many of my families are amongst them. There are so many misinformation about the virus, but people are not getting the most important information about all of it, which is to WASH YOUR HANDS! They talk about wearing masks, which, does not really help unless you’re already sick and trying not to infect people. Some people wear the N95 respirator, but they don’t do it properly, and leave gaps between their faces and the mask. Some people went further and wore googles and gloves on top of the respirator. 

Then things start to get even worse. Italy started to lock down, along with many other countries. The primaries in the US became disrupted because a lot of people got the virus. Indonesia finally had its first case, and the numbers grow exponentially. People are starting to get really scared. 

Students start to petition universities to shut down, because 500 students in one room is prime breeding ground for an infectious disease. WHO finally decided to call this a pandemic, which, I’m still bitter about because they only do it once European and American countries started to get lots of cases. But I guess for WHO the definition of a pandemic is the worldwide spread of a new disease. (And the WHO only considers the world to be Europe and America anyways, but that’s my own thoughts and another discussion.) 

Finally universities started closing, including my own. All my classes went online in a VERY short time. I applaud all my professors who had to figure out how to went from face-to-face instructions to online classes in a span of about two days. And they managed to make the best of this situation too. Cheers to you, profs! (I’m aware that this has not been the case for a lot of students, and I’m sorry to hear that.) 

Canada declared emergency, and all events are canceled, including a lot of performances. The National Ballet of Canada canceled their performance of Romeo and Juliet, which I’m kind of looking forward too. All of the dance crews in my university also postponed or canceled their performances, including my own. We had two big performances scheduled at the end of the semester, and both of them got canceled. My friends who are in performing arts programs got it the worst though. Their year-end performances, which they must have been working on for months, got canceled. I can’t even imagine how disappointed they are. Even I’m already disappointed, and I only dance as a side.

Then famous people started to test positive for COVID-19, including Canada’s prime minister’s wife. Actors and athletes started to test positive. Though, there’s weird and insensitive things that’s happening. First of all, since the COVID-19 mortality rate for people under the age of 60 is not high, a lot of young people thought this is not really a concern for them and continue their travels and parties anyways. Even if you don’t get infected, other people might come in contact with you and then THEY can get infected. And the parties? Come on, people are dying and getting sick. Once classes got canceled a lot of my friends spent the entire weekend partying. You do realize that classes do not end, right? They just got moved online? 

Secondly, people started to hoard things. Toilet paper, for once. That one was weird. I don’t know why people want to hoard toilet paper. But then they start to also hoard food and soap and hand sanitizer. Apparently a guy bought 10,000 bottles of hand sanitizer. That is super weird and insensitive. Why would you even need 10,000 bottles of hand sanitizer? 

But there’s good things happening too. There’s a video online that’s basically just a bunch of Italians, singing from their balconies because they can’t go outside. There’s also news about how people are donating things to the communities impacted by the COVID-19. And the little things, like people offering to do stuff like grocery shopping for the people most at risk. This COVID-19 also shows how deeply rooted capitalism is, and this made a lot of people to start to notice how capitalism is not an inherent part of human nature. 

There’s this thread online about how the COVID-19 is like a trial run for climate change, which, I sort of agreed. Governments stopped for COVID-19. They change their behaviors and stuff. They could have done that for climate change too, but they don’t, because climate change does not really affect them as a person. I guess that’s too general, but COVID-19, a virus, can literally hit even the most powerful person on earth. It has hit famous actors and athletes. It has hit the prime minister of Canada. They see it happening and they know that it can hit them too. So they act. While for climate change, they see it happening but they don’t care because it doesn’t affect them. They are not the ones starving because of climate change. They are not the ones having to relocate again and again because of climate change.

Someone online (and don’t you see a pattern about how I’m taking information online?) wrote about how most young people are so nonchalant about this disease. And in part, I guess it’s because of how the risk for younger people are lower, but also because the younger people have been fighting against imminent end of the world for years now. We know that the world would die if we continue to act the same. This is just another part of it. 

Anyways, I thought that even though universities are closing, residences would not. At least not my residence because my university has a lot of international students. But a couple of days in, my dining hall started to only offer take out meals, and I had a sudden realization that this is going to get worse. So I called my parents and asked them whether or not I should go home. I really do not want to be stranded on a country, thousands of miles across from my own country where I have no family. I called them, I booked the ticket (while arguing with my father because he doesn’t think I should), and then started packing. I booked the ticket on Tuesday for a flight home on Wednesday, so I literally only have hours to pack my entire room. I went to grocery stores to ask for cardboard boxes to put my stuff in, and ended up taking one from the dumpster because none of their cardboard boxes are big enough. I arranged for a storage company to come pick up my stuff, but because everything is very short notice, I couldn’t get them to come when I’m still there, so I had to ask my friend to hold it for me until the storage company can come pick up. And then, on the afternoon, there’s an email saying that residences will be closed on Saturday. Wasn’t it lucky that I had booked a flight home before hand? 

Oh, and even throughout this, people are still dissing Indonesian government’s ability to handle the crisis. My friends, who are also Indonesian, talk against going home because they don’t trust the Indonesian health care system. Bitch, I also don’t trust the Canadian health care system, and there are more cases in Canada anyways. So they decided not to go home, but then residences started to close and then I had no idea whether they all decide to go home or not. But for the most part, they had families in Canada, and some of them had families in the US. So I guess they could go there. I’m still offended about them not trusting the Indonesian health care system though. What is it about people and not trusting Indonesia? They are Indonesian citizens. It’s people like them who made Indonesia stuck in this weird limbo of being a developing country. And don’t even mention people from Malaysia and Singapore, and how they look down on Indonesia. But that’s another rant that I will maybe write with better sources. 

Anyways, so I packed my entire life in two suitcases, a duffle bag, a backpack, and three boxes in the span of several hours. Then emailed my profs because I have two (TWO!) midterms in the days that I will be traveling. Thankfully they are very accommodating. I started my 20+ hours of flight, plus and additional 10 hours on transit. 

It’s super weird to be in a flight with people all panicking about the COVID-19. I saw people wiping every single surface down with wet wipes before the flight. They double on masks and wear goggles. Some even wore hazmat suits. As for me, I know that I shouldn’t touch my face, so what I do is I wore make-up. Normally I don’t wear make-up on a daily basis, but if I had eyeliner on, I’m not going to touch my eyes for fear of smudging that off. Same with lipstick. That worked for me, including in the hours of flight that I went through. I also wash my hands plenty, until my skin felt like they’re cracking off because of how dry they are. 

In airports, there are officials who checked everyone’s temperature with the laser thermometer. And in one of the flights everyone had to wear a mask. That was such a weird experience. And then there are forms I had to fill when I land, specifying where I had been and where. All of this experience is so surreal. 

And then I got home, and my dad started to tell me to go shower, yada yada. Then he put all my stuff out in the sun, and told me that I shouldn’t meet with my grandmother for a while. All of which I know. And then he started JOKING. HE STARTED JOKING. He jokes about how I shouldn’t be allowed to come into his room, and how after I touch something then other people shouldn’t touch it. Like, that’s the hill you wanted to die on? THAT? I’m super pissed. I am perfectly aware that I should self-quarantine for 14 days, but that’s not how you go about doing it, FATHER. That’s just plain rude. 

It’s like he doesn’t even want me back home. Like how I should have just stayed in Canada. Fuck you, Father. Fuck you very much. If you don’t want me home, then you should have said before I fucking book the tickets. Now I’m just swearing, but fuck you very, very, very much, Father. 

And that ends my rant about this whole COVID-19 situation for now. It’s 5 whole pages of unorganized ranting. Let’s see how much of this rant I would have in the next couple of days. 

Peace out, Huilian

; sangria | m.

— a/n: this is the first fic i released on this website. so like spare me.

— pairing: min yoongi x reader

— genre: smut, pwp, jealous!yoongi

— word count: 3k+

— warnings: dirty talk, creampie, exhibitionism (basically fucking on a beach), pet names, unprotected sex 

— summary: a day at the beach has yoongi hornier than he’d like to admit.

Admittedly, Yoongi had bought the skimpy bikini set for Y/N to use in closed facilities, like their own pool, or their bedroom. Not in actual public where wandering eyes meet her figure continuously. He doesn't even know why he let her leave the house, he should have stood his ground and demanded she changed. But she has a way of talking, like promising to suck him off when they get back home. Yeah, the argument was pretty much over after that. But it didn't mean he was fine with it. He doesn't even know what possessed him to buy it. When he'd seen it the shops he knew it would look good on her, he'd imagined the way it would wrap around her curves deliciously, but even his imagination can't beat or compare to reality in the slightest. 

She looks like pure, hot, sex. And he can't keep his eyes off. In fact, he hasn't. He's been observing her heatedly as she talks with a smile on her face to the bartender. He doesn't miss the way the boys' eyes linger below her face from time to time, and Yoongi knows exactly what he's thinking because he's thinking it too. Yet, she's oblivious to the whole ordeal. Her eyes crinkle as she laughs at something he's said and Yoongi has half the mind to stomp over there and drag her away.

But before he's even pushed himself off the ground she's strolling back towards him, two glasses in hand and his anger simmers momentarily as he admires his fiancée. 

Yoongi’s always admiring her. The way her engagement ring glints in the sunlight to remind him, they're forever. The way her legs go on for miles and if he squints hard enough, he can almost make out the purple bruise on her inner thigh. And the way she fits him, so snug and right on his body, like she was made just for him.

“What were you talking about?” He asks, subtly jerking his head in the direction of the bartender that's still sneaking glances at her.

Y/N takes a seat between his outstretched legs, crossing her own Indian style. Her brows furrow and she glances up at him whilst trying to steady the glasses on the book she brought.

“Jason?”

He frowns glaring at her accusingly. Yoongi knows Y/N, she's a flirt, plain and true, entirely out of habit though. Most times she doesn't even mean it or realises she's doing it. But she'll do it, and it always succeeds to piss him off. 

“First name terms already?”

Y/N shrugs not really understanding the bitter tone in his voice. She hasn't done anything yet so she won't let him spoil her day like he'd tried to this morning. “He asked if he could get my number—”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. How was she so nonchalant about this? “Oh—he did, did he.”

“Yeah—” She says, a teasing smile accompanying. He's definitely jealous. “—had to tell him I didn't think my fiancé would be too understanding.”

Yoongi grins planting a kiss on her lips that leaves her breathless. That's his girl.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Anyway, he gave me free sangrias and told me to tell you that you are a very lucky guy.”

He is lucky. Very lucky indeed. He doesn't know where or what he'd be doing if she hadn't given him another chance. All he knows is, he'll never stop loving her. And well, that wouldn't have been good for him without her. 

“Hm, I am aren't I?” He encloses his arms around her waist pulling her set against his chest. “Justin's a very smart guy.”

Y/N slaps his arm holding back her smile. “Jason,” She corrects knowing full well he hadn't forgotten but instead insisted on acting like a jealous bastard. 

He doesn't care. He shifts her hair to one side and brushes his lips over her shoulders. She smells enticing. A concoction of apples, almonds and him. He can definitely smell himself on her. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, not really expecting an answer. 

She giggles. He always makes her feel like a giddy high school girl again. “Really, you think so?” She doesn't.

He hums.

She leans back into him and her eyes flutter close. The sound of waves rippling, laughs and chatter fill her ears and her lips stretch up.

“You know what I just realised?” She pops an eye open to check if he's listening. He is. “I haven't been to the beach in like—” She holds up her freshly painted white nails. “—2 years.”

Yoongi grimaces. It's not like she didn't want to go to, well to some extent she didn't, she's not the biggest fan of the place. Y/N hates the way the sand sticks to her body, amongst other things. But mostly, she just hasn't felt as body confident as she used to since she had Hye. 

“It's been that long?”

“Yeah—” She chuckles nervously feeling as self-conscious as ever. These girls on the beach are young, skinny and single. She wouldn't be surprised if Yoongi found someone else more up to speed to go with. “I'm so old compared to all the girls here.”

“I hardly believe 23 is old. If you’re old then 25 must be ancient.”

She laughs. “Yoongi, you’re a grandpa you don’t count.”

He squeezes her tightly with a scowl.

But the point still stands, ever since she gave birth to Hye, her body changed. For one, her breasts are bigger than they used to be which she guesses is positive because Yoongi claims he likes it a lot. 

However, the stretch marks, no matter what Yoongi says, she doesn't like. Sure, they're faint because she'd been avidly using Aloe Vera on them like Google had told her too. But they're still there if you look properly. And she hates it.

Yoongi strokes her stomach, thumb painting his name in ghost ink. He can practically hear her think and it isn't hard to discern what she's thinking. Sure, the girls are pretty but they're also bland. They're not his Y/N.

So, he decides it's the best time to tell her what's been running in his mind for far too long.

“You know, I would really like to fuck you right now.”

Y/N releases a slow breath. She's expected this from him, ever since he almost cancelled the day trip when he saw what she was wearing. She's been waiting for him to speak his intentions, but she hasn't come here for this.

“No way.” She sits up and turns to face him with the sternest face she can muster. Yoongi thinks she looks adorable. 

“Can you see how pale I am? I need to tan.”

He splays his hand on her thigh and grabs firmly. 

“Well, I don't think you need to.” He murmurs, tracing the magenta bruise he'd left on her the other night and she shivers visibly. He catches her earlobe between his teeth. “Plus, I like the way my marks show up on your skin.”

Y/N shakes her head, shuffling off of his lap swiftly and turning on the towel to lay on her stomach before he can manipulate her with his words like he's done many times before. 

“Yeah...well, I want to tan.” 

She releases the clasp of her bikini bra and he groans at the way her breasts spill out invitingly. The bra itself is only held by a flimsy knot around her neck. If he just tugs it with his finger it'd be off. Which isn't putting him at any ease.

“You can tan later.”

In Yoongi’s head, if she really wants him not to touch her, then she's not presenting her case very well. And having her rounded ass in his face isn't helping his growing hard-on either. Mainly because he remembers the way he pounded into her from behind last night as she ground against him, crying for more. 

He rearranges his shorts awkwardly. He needs to fuck her. And he's going to.

He rests on his side facing her. 

“Baby, look,” He starts, trailing a finger languidly down her spine. “You can sit on my lap. I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side—” 

Her breath hitches and he smirks, he's almost got her. “—and no one will notice.”

It does sound tempting. In fact, if he had caught her at another time, she would already be on his lap. But now, she really does just want a day to relax and tan without having sex. So, Y/N ignores him.

“What d'you think Hye’s doing with your parents?”

Yoongi grumbles and lies back on the towel. Is she being serious? 

“I don't really want to think about our sons' whereabouts when I have a very fucking painful boner.”

Y/N glances at his shorts. He's shifting around uncomfortably and it does look painful. She almost feels bad. She huffs, her resolve weakening by the minute as she thinks about having him buried to the hilt inside her as he fucks her brains out.

“I am not about to have sex with you on the beach.”

“But baby, you look so fucking good,” He whispers in her ear, kissing the skin behind. “And you know how much I love being inside of you.”

Y/N knows, she loves him inside her too. He's so big and his cock is so perfect. She nibbles at her lip, biting back a moan. Why does he always have the right words to get her worked up. 

All she wants is one day when they're not going at it like rabbits. Is that too much to ask for?

Apparently, to Yoongi, it is.

He sits up with a scoff picking her up easily and settling her on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. 

“Y/N... if I want to fuck you. I will.”

She sighs. He's so stubborn, he won't give up for anything. She grabs the towel she'd been lying on and covers her lap with it. 

“Fine.”

Yoongi’s face is already buried in her neck when he smiles and squeezes her waist. “Thank you, princess,” He mutters against her, sucking and biting harshly at the creamy surface. “I'll fuck you so good.”

After he's done with her, he's gonna send her back to the bar, marked up and sweaty, so that the boy can see who she belongs to. 

She's his and will always be.

Y/N rests her head back on his shoulder with a muted moan, allowing him ease of access as her eyes flits around the area. Apart from the few people at the bar hut and the people playing around in the water, she'd say they were safe. At least, as safe as they could be on a beach anyway.

Yoongi isn't even taking precautions like Y/N, he's visibly excited that he's about to fuck her on a beach. He tugs his shorts down quickly.

His cock rubs against her covered pussy as she grinds down against him impulsively. “You need to be faster than this Yoongs,” She whines.

“I'm coming—” He shifts the towel around their body in place, knowing it'll probably make Y/N feel more sheltered. “I'm coming, hold on baby girl.”

He draws her panties to the side and his cock twitches as he strokes himself against her slit. He lets out a shaky breath, her juices coat his tip almost immediately and he wants to eat her so bad. But he can't. Not here.

“Shit my baby girls so wet for me, isn't she?”

“Christ.” Her eyes roll back as she gasps. She's incredibly needy now. She has to force herself not to move without his command. She knows her Yoongi. And she knows as riled as he is, he'll leave her horny if she disobeys him. “Just fuck me... please.”

God. She's so pretty and good to him, particularly so when she's begging for him. He loves it when she begs, makes him feel in control. 

“Look at you.” He sniggers. “Weren't you just so adamant on me not being inside you.”

She denies it.

“You sure baby?”

Y/N sucks in a sharp breath as he sinks her down on his cock slowly until all of him is buried inside her warmth. And her jaw slackens, a whine escaping her mouth. He always fills her so goddamn well. 

She can't control the noises that leave her lips, and as sweet as he finds them he's gonna need her to stop. Even though he doesn't want her to. He wants to hear every whimper she makes.

“Try to keep quiet baby girl. We don't want to get caught,” Yoongi urges breathily and cups a breast from underneath her bra in his large hand. “Now, I'm gonna need you to ride me yeah...”

Y/N nods fervently, hurriedly digging her fingers into his thigh painfully and he bites into the skin under her jaw with the same intensity. 

Both are numb to the feeling, revelling in the steady rhythm her hips make as she lifts herself up and sits back down, burying herself deep on his cock each time. Her breast bounces in his hands and he rolls her nipple between his fingers.

They're both short of breath, panting and groaning like dogs in heat. The sun beats down on them in sweltering heat waves and their bodies are slick with sweat. 

They'd never fucked so publicly before and the thought of someone watching them arouses her to no end and Y/N can't take it anymore.

He feels so good filling her completely like his cock was made just for her cunt. Her stomach tightens, she wants him to pound into her so bad.

“Sh-Shit Yoongi, I need you to—” Her knees buckle as she rocks desperately against him. “I can't.”

Yoongi grabs at her waist. “You've been getting so greedy recently. Don't you dare fucking even think about stopping,” He growls in her ear. He plants a hand into the sand around them, steadying himself as he begins to thrust up into her.

He's driving into her hungrily, forceful and keen strokes set out to impale her swollen pussy. His name leaves her lips like a memorised mantra, the lewd slaps of her body against his entirely too loud for the beach but he loves it all. 

“Fuck, my girls always so good at taking my cock, isn't she?”

“Yes—” She exhales shakily. “I love taking your cock so much.”

“God, you’re such a fucking cock whore.”

Her hair scatters across her face as she shakes her head. “Yes— Yes, I love your cock. I love it when you come inside me—”

Yoongi grins against her jaw. “Yeah? You like it when I fill you?”

Y/N struggles for breath, choppy, short and strangled puffs each time he pushes. “Uh huh—I love it when you watch your cum seep out of me as well. Makes me feel like a good girl for you.”

“Jesus Christ, you're so fucking filthy, who's letting you keep talking like that?” 

Y/N doesn't have to say it. They both know that it's him. Yoongi’s letting her speak like that. And she's so overthrown in the bliss that the words just flow out naturally.

“It's because you fuck me so so so good.”

“I do, don't I?” He grunts, huffing and puffing to catch his breath. “It's 'cause my girl knows how to take her cock so well.”

She's hysterically trying to keep her grip on his thighs but he's treating her like a rag doll, and she can't wait to see the bruises his hands make on her waist.

“Yes— fuck, yes!”

“So, will you be a good girl and keep it all in you then?” Fuck, she's clenching so hard on him, and her walls are so tight he can barely move. He grits out with clenched teeth. 

“I want to see you talk to that boy again with ruined panties a—and my cum running down your thighs. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Y/N’s agreeing before he can even finish. “I'll do anything you want. I just— I just want to feel your cum stuffing me full.” 

Her head is dizzy with pleasure as his thrusts stay unrelenting. There's no empathy in them and fire pools low in her abdomen. And he's shaking.

“Fucking hell princess.”

Yoongi can't believe how lucky he is to have such a naughty girl like her, he will reward her though. He knows her body like the back of his hand. 

He lifts her off of him much to her complaint and turns her around, so they're face to face, he rests his forehead against hers giving Y/N ample time to breathe before slamming her body down towards him.

“Oh god, right— right there.”

Yoongi smirks, pounding into her again and again. Aggravating slow and controlled strokes that has her covering her silenced shrieks with a shaky hand. 

“Here?” He mocks.

“Yoongi!” She throws her head back and he relishes in how beautiful she looks for him. Her face is flushed, strands of brown hair stuck onto it and her lips are bright and swollen by the way she's been biting at them with her teeth.

He shushes her. “Don't worry baby, I've got you.” He's always got her. 

Y/N’s overcome with all emotions at once, her eyes sting with unshed tears. It's the pure incredibility of how well he's fucking her on a public beach and she knows she can't go back from this. Nor can he, he's gonna tick this off his bucket list and boast to the boys.

“God—I love you so fucking much Yoongi.”

He kisses her throat, soft and loving despite his thrusts. “I love you too—so much.” He means it. He's always meant it. 

“Fuck, I'm gonna—”

Y/N hooks her arms around his neck tightly, or else she's sure she's gonna flop back. Her back arches as she pushes her breasts flat onto his chest and he captures her lips in a bruising kiss. It's messy and sensual, tongues massaging together, and it just manages to mute out her clamorous moans. 

His pace speeds up, frantic and careless strokes into her as he chases his release. “I want you to cum around my cock princess,” Yoongi says heatedly. “Want to feel it so bad.”

And Y/N can't hold back anymore, the blue skies fade to black as she writhes against him, dissolving into blinding pleasure. Her walls tighten around him, the sensitivity of his vigorous strokes causing her to jerk and jolt.

He groans holding her firmly, his muscles contracting and relaxing when he goes still. His seed splatters against her walls, pump after pump of warm cum filling her so right. Like he always does. And they know it's messy, it always is.

“Fuck, my angel did so well—” Yoongi leaves sweet kisses on her jaw. Y/N hums, looking completely ruined and so rightfully his. Just like he's so rightfully hers.

Her body is flimsy as Yoongi lifts her up gently, pulling himself out of her. He fixes her panties before their juices trickle out of her slit too quickly. 

“Now try to hold my cum in you, and go talk to that bartender boy again.”

Y/N laughs. “Christ— you love this don't you.”

Yoongi curses as she does up her bra and stands to her feet. His hands and mouth have left prominent marks on her skin and he can already see his release beginning to run down her thighs.

 She sighs, “At least let me wear a shirt.”

all rights reserved ©️ minstrivia

DOTW 38 - Full... a chapter of awkwardness

Levi wasn't proud of himself. Not over how he'd broken down upon hearing Moblit and Hanji had been in an accident, nor how he'd shoved Eren away, before shoving him down when his brat's heat had suddenly intensified... before cowardly running. His boyfriend had messaged, despite being in heat. His worry only made him feel shittier over leaving him, and with Eren having his heat, he didn't want to distress him further with the news of Moblit's death. He knew Moblit meant the world to Eren, and that Eren had been overcome a lot to build the relationship between them... to the point that Eren was able to confide things in Moblit that he hadn't talked to Levi about. He didn't understand why it had to be Moblit. The man had everything going for him. He was going to be a father. He and Hanji were about to start their family... it wasn't fucking fair. They hadn't seen Moblit the day the accident occurred, and Hanji had been unconscious upon arrival. He'd spent hours sitting in the staff lounge of the Emergency Department, waiting for Mike to come back and deliver the news on her condition. Erwin hadn't even been able to stay, due to still being on shift. He wanted to scream and curse, convinced that Hanji would pass, like Isabel had. That he'd lose her too... Mike had been exhausted when he finally tracked him down, bringing Erwin with him. Explaining that they were keeping her sedated due to foetal distress, he'd sent them home for the night. But home had meant returning to Erwin's, leaving Eren scared alone. That night, he'd drowned himself in drink, almost literally. Drinking enough for the hang over to still be lingering when they finally were allowed to see Hanji. Moblit's mother was already there, fussing over Hanji, the mother of Moblit's child. Her last tie to her son's life. Hanji hadn't asked for Moblit, they all had the feeling she already knew he was gone, but lied to themselves, telling themselves she wasn't asking as assumed he was recovering, or that he was dealing with the aftermath of the crash. It was all a fucking shit storm. That he handled fucking poorly. And now he was paying for it. With Eren. Every time their eyes met, which Eren was clearly trying his hardest to avoid, his boyfriend looked lost and hurt. Levi didn't have the right words to say, and even the wrong ones died on his tongue. He'd acted horribly. He'd pushed Eren away and ran to Erwin for support. What kind of alpha did that make him? He didn't know Hanji would choose to have Eren with her during the birth of Anna, not when she had Moblit's family already there. Her parents were both busy, as they were also doctors. Erwin had called them, explained everything and they would be flying in a few more days, and made him promise to call and give daily updates until they could be there with her. Arriving back at their apartment should have been reassuring. The mix of his and Eren's scents, should have been there to soothe his alpha. Only, the moment they entered, he smelt no traces of Eren in the space. His boyfriend didn't seemed phased at all. Walking across to the recliner, Eren picked up Titan and carried him off to his room, the door closing harder than necessary, but it wasn't slammed. Groaning, Levi wandered over to the sofa, throwing himself down and burying his face in his hands "Should I go?" "No. No. It's not you. It's me" "I didn't realise you were breaking up with me... but in all seriousness, if I'm going to be in the way..." "No. He at least talks to you" "He's right there, in his room. It's not like you can't make the first move" "And what am I supposed to say?" "You don't have to say anything. You know Eren, all you have to do is reach out and he'll..." "It shouldn't have to be him. Fuck. I don't know what to say to him" "We just had this conversation. Go sit by him, or better yet, get some fucking rest. Cuddle up with him. His post heat had to have set in by now, and in the space of a day, he's learned that Moblit had passed, and he is now a Godfather. His head's probably all over the place" Reaching blindly, Levi grabbed the closest cushion from the sofa, hurling it in vaguely in Erwin's direction "Fine. Just stay the fuck out of my room" Opening Eren's door without knocking, he didn't want to give his boyfriend the chance to reject him. Once again, his cowardice showing. Laying on his bed, Eren was talking softly to Titan, more like mumbling to him "Eren..." Looking over his shoulder to him, Eren's eyes were red and wet. The lingering scent canceller must have been masking his boyfriend's pain "I don't want to talk... but... can you hold me" Striding across the room, Levi climbed up behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arm around his waist as he buried his face against Eren's shoulder. Seeking out his hand, Eren released Titan so he could hold it. In his arms, Eren started to weep, soft sobs turning into howls. Nuzzling his neck, Levi kept his mouth shut like Eren wanted. His own eyes growing damp all over again. It wasn't fucking fair. None of this was fucking fair. Having fallen asleep after Eren had, he woken to find his boyfriend staring at him. Eyes wet again, as his bottom lip quivered. Reaching out, Levi pushed Eren's hair back behind his ear, before leaning in and kissing him softly. He'd meant for it to be comforting, but the way Eren kissed him back, it stirred something deep inside of him. A need to be connected to him. He loved Eren with his heart and soul. Even with his cast on, there was a flurry of movement, each rushing to undress each other. Blind with need, he pushed into Eren's heat without stopping to prep his love. Driving into him as hard as he could, over and over, Eren chanted his name, almost like a prayer. He needed to knot him. He needed to claim him. Mark him as his and only his. Grabbing Eren by the hips, he hoisted him up, growling and snarling as he bit down on the omegas smooth shoulder. He might be mourning Moblit, but right now, his mind was focused on how warm and alive his love was. He didn't want to lose Eren. He wanted everything. Kids. Bonding. Marriage. Thrusting up half a dozen times, his knot popped, Eren clenching around him as his cum splattered on their stomachs. Wrapping his arms around him, Eren rolled his hips, drawing moans from both of them "Levi... I love you. I love you... don't leave me behind... don't leave me alone" "You too brat. Never leave my side... I want to make you. I want to marry you. I want a family with you..." Eren nodded quickly, his lips so soft and sweet, as he pressed a hard kiss to Levi's "Make me yours... all yours" Leaning back, Eren exposed his neck for Levi to mark "Eren... are you sure?" "Please... you're my alpha. I found everything I could ever need in you" He wanted to... he wanted to so fucking badly. But as he drank the sight of his mate before him, he was reminded again of how young Eren was. He wasn't even 21, and he was dating an alpha 15 years his senior... Eren had his whole entire life ahead of him, and when he marked him, he wanted this to be special, not a byproduct of mental anguish. Using his left hand, he gently placed it over Eren's heart "When I bond with you, I want it to be special. I want it to be like the first time we should have had together. I want to do it right and show you how fucking much you mean to me" "I don't want to wait... I don't... if you... if you die... it would be all I'd have left" "I'm not going to die" "Moblit didn't think he was going to die either... Moblit and Hanji, they..." Leaning in, to nuzzle his nose against Eren's cheek, he sighed softly "Please let me do this right. Please let me show you what you mean to me" "I don't want you to die!" Eren started to cry. Each heave of his chest causing him to ripple and clench around him, Levi hissing at the delicious sensations around his knot "I am in no rush to leave someone as beautiful as you, by yourself. Ok?" "Moblit didn't get a choice!" "Ok... come back here. You need a shower, and some food" "I want to see Hanji" "We can do that too. I can give the hospital a call? See if she's up for visitors?" Eren nodded, letting himself be guided back into Levi's hold properly. Erwin had been right, again. Actions spoke louder than words. * Eren hated the bright blue sky. He hated the gentle wind and lazily moving clouds. He hated the warmth of the sun on his shoulders and face, and he hated the chirps of the birds. He felt so fucking numb. Despite her three week stay in hospital, Anna had been finally released that morning. The first thing the girl was going to know of the world, and of her father, was this funeral. His funeral.. Moblit's funeral. It wasn't fair... she was so tiny, sleeping in Hanji's arms as she wept. Her parents hand their arms around her waist, supporting her. Eren had tried to get close, but with the whole Berner family there, he hadn't been able to. And he didn't want to intrude. Not when Hanji needed her parents more than his sympathies. As the Reverend conducting the funeral spoke, none of it felt like what Moblit would like. It was too organised. There were no personal traces of Hanji or Moblit in any of it all. It was all Mrs Berner, and not Mrs Hanji Berner. Moblit hadn't been deeply religious, not like the Preacher man standing by the large photo of Moblit smiling. He wouldn't have liked all this stuffiness. He wanted to be numb to the whole thing. He wanted to deny it all, and wake up to find it was a dream... like every single day since he'd learned of Moblit's death. With Levi by his side, and Erwin on his other side, he felt walled in by the sad scents rolling off both of them. He hadn't gone into another fictional heat, from the emotional stress like he'd thought he would. Instead, each time Levi had touched him since not marking him, his stomach would clench. His omega was mad that Levi hadn't taken the chance, despite Levi's kind and pure words over why he wouldn't. It really fucking sucked. When the service came to an end, the three of them made their way back to Levi's Range Rover, Eren climbing into the back. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Hanji. He'd been in to see her as often as he could, and with her phone lost in the car accident, he'd lent her his. That way he could borrow Levi's and talk to her whenever she needed someone to talk to. He knew how much it sucked to lose someone, and she'd been there for him. Erwin was just turning on the ignition when the back passenger door opened, Hanji sliding in with a long sigh. Anna held tight in her arms. Turning back, Erwin's expression softened "Hanji" "Can you drive?" Erwin nodded, the moment her door closed, he pulled away from the curb "Eren would you mind?" Taking Anna, the girl let out a sleepy yawn, her big brown eyes blinking at him. Fiddling her seatbelt into place, Hanji then held her arms back out to take Anna back "Thanks guys. I know they mean well... but..." "It's exhausting?" Hanji nodded to Erwin "Yeah. Thanks for coming, it would have met a lot to him" Eren placed his hand on Hanji's thigh. She was so fucking brave. Getting back into a car so soon after the accident... "There's no where else we would have been" Hanji flashed him a small smile, before settling back with Anna. This wasn't fair. She should be at home, enjoying her role as a mother while Moblit doted over the pair of them. Moblit's wake was being held at his and Hanji's favourite bar. Her house not large enough to accomodate the whole of the Berner family, and not everyone could get time off work, so the inner city location was easier for them to drive to. Which Eren felt was kind of rude. Moblit was a person who would have a way to be there for any of them. He kept that to himself though. Helping Hanji with Anna, he kept close to them as the three of them entered the bar. Unlike the funeral, this was more Moblit. Tequila sat in front of a photo of the alpha, while people he'd never seen before milled around the photo. Noticing Hanji, Hanji was caught up with greeting everyone. From their uniforms, he could see that there were people from all three emergency service branches. Making sure Hanji was alright, he felt small as he wandered over to where Levi and Erwin were already sitting at the bar "Everything alright?" Eren let out a huff "No... please tell me you ordered me something to drink?" "Yeah" Sitting next to Levi, he took his boyfriend's hand. Levi interlaced their fingers together, leaning over and placing his head on his shoulder "Are you alright?" Levi nodded, kissing his shoulder "Yeah. This never gets any easier" He wouldn't know. He couldn't remember his mum's funeral and Zeke hadn't even had a funeral. He didn't even know who would have turned up if there had been one for him. Erwin had ordered them some kind of tequila based drink. He really didn't love tequila, but was tired of trying to keep everything together. Even if it was for just a little while, he wanted to push Moblit's death aside and concentrate on remembering his life. Playing the polite boyfriend, he met a few more of Levi's friends, well, not really friends, just people he knew from work. He knew Eld, Gunther, Petra and Olou. Petra still didn't seem to like him, but she could go jump. He didn't have time for her petty sulking. Excusing himself to the bathroom, Eren needed a minute. So many saddened alphas and omegas meant so many scents, leaving him feeling even worse than it was just Levi and Erwin at the funeral. Taking a few deep breaths, he rinsed his face off, jumping when the door creaked open. Levi walking in "Are you ok?" "Just the scents. They're getting to be a bit too much..." "I don't think anyone thought about that. If you need a break, we can go sit in the car for a bit?" "No... no. I want to be here for Hanji" Levi walked over to him, wrapping his arms around as he hid his face against his neck "You've been so strong and amazing for her. It makes me so proud that you're my boyfriend" Holding Levi's hand, they walked from the bathroom. Took half a step back. There were angry scents in the air. He didn't know who they came from, only that other alphas had seemed to respond with their own scents. His hand flew up to grip his chest. His fear flooding his whole body. There'd been so many angry scents when Zeke was killed... his already upset anxieties, had his mind betraying his body. These were all friends of Moblit and Hanji. He didn't need to be scared. Whining his distress, he inadvertently tugged Levi's hand as he tried to back up into the bathroom "Eren, hey. Look at me. You're ok. I've got you" Levi didn't let him escape back into the bathroom. Pulling him up against his side instead "Just breathe. There's nothing to be scared of" "S-someone's angry. I can't calm down..." "Ok, come on. Stay by my side" Leading him through the bar, and outside, Eren pushed his boyfriend away as he took a deep breath. They'd passed Moblit's family near the doors and fuck... the smell of anger was coming from them... and there were a lot of Berner's in there. Leaning against the wall, he undid his tie and took a deep breath. It took a few minutes, but finally he could breathe again. There was no anger out here. No conflicting or agitated scents "Better?" "Yeah... sorry. Moblit's family is way too big" Levi nodded, his boyfriend was standing there, looking unimpressed "I copped their scent on the way out. Fucking hell. I have no idea what they're all so shitty about" "No idea... I hope Hanji's alright" "She'll be ok. Erwin's in there, and he won't let anything happen to her. I'm more concerned about you, right now" "When... Zeke died... they were all so angry... I'm just... need a breath" Levi nodded at him again "I'm in no rush to go back in there" "Do you think they'd notice if we just took Hanji and Anna?" "I would say so..." Levi's sentence was cut off as one on Moblit's brothers was literally thrown out the door of the bar, a second brother grabbing the first brother by the shirt front as he moved to tower of him. Levi's eyes flashed, in a second he was there, pushing the two of them apart "Enough! What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing! Show some fucking respect for your brother!" Neither alpha appreciated their fight being interrupted by a shorter alpha. The second brother, snarled, while the first swung at Levi. Growling, Eren threw himself forward. No one was hurting his alpha. Driving his knee up he dropped the angry alpha with no regrets. From the bar, another two of Moblit's brothers came out and for a moment, he thought Levi was about to be mobbed by them. Looking from the brother on the pavement, to the one looking like he was about deck Levi, the stockier of two that had come out, sighed "Can't you two get along for just one day? Moblit wouldn't be happy at all to see this. They didn't cause you any trouble did they?" "No. Take them home. Hanji and Anna don't need this shit" Separating the pair of them, they went off in pairs. The one he'd kneed in the nuts, whimpering as he was lead away towards the carpark. Served him fucking right. Brushing his hair back from his face, Levi's face softened the moment their eyes met "He didn't hurt you, did he?" Shaking his head, Eren opened his arms, letting Levi stumble into them. It was rare his lover got so mad "I could have handled it" "No one hurts my alpha" Levi snorted "Not when I have my omega to rush in to save me" "Hey, don't make me sound lame" "I wasn't. I was commending your bravery" "Kneeing an alpha in the testicles isn't exactly brave" "It is when their brother is right there and their whole family is right inside. And I get the feeling this isn't the first time you've done that" "Someone used to have to stand up for the dancers... we might have been omegas and strippers, but not everyone got the no touching rule" * It made Levi proud to know Eren was the kind of person who stood up for others, even with al his fears... though back then, he didn't have quiet as many as he did now. Sliding his hands down to Eren's arse, he couldn't help but tease him a little as he groped him softly "What about me? Can I touch?" Eren faked a thinking sigh, before slowly nodding "Just a little. To be honest... I haven't... No. My omega's been a shit lately" "How so?" "It feels like you rejected us... when you didn't mark me. I didn't want to tell you, because that's not how I feel" He'd noticed. Not right away, but he'd noticed. That's why he'd kept Eren close to him... but he hadn't realised that was why. Not when Eren had wrapped his arms around him. He'd half expected it was because they'd both forgotten Valentine's Day with everything else happening "I'm sorry" "No. No, you did nothing wrong. It's just... with everything. I guess I didn't realise how different having a funeral would feel..." Because Zeke never had one... not that he deserved one... "Do you want to talk about it?" "Not really... I'll be ok. It's just... all fucked up at the moment" "It is... I get the cast off next week, that's something" "That means you're going back to work..." "I still have another two weeks before then... with all this shit happening, I was thinking, that maybe we could go on a date? Get out of the apartment and just be together?" "I'd like that. A lot. Fuck... is that selfish? Going on a date when..." "No. You know Hanji. She's wanted us to get together since you fall off the stage. She's not going to want us not making the most of our time together" "That's because Hanji's so kind... I don't know what she's going to do when everyone leaves. I'm scared for her" "Moblit's mother is going to stay another month, and her parents until the end of the month" "Still... do you think she'll let me visit? And you know, try and help out" "She'd love that... we need to organise sending you to those dance classes too" "I thought you forgot about them" "No. I've already contacted them and they have a group starting up in March" "Ok. Cool" He'd thought Eren would be happier. Maybe he should have waited to mention it? "Do you want to head back in?" "Honestly, no. I still think we should grab Hanji and Anna, and make a run for it" Kissing Eren cheek, he shook his head "Hanji will come find us if she needs another quick escape" Moving to sit, Levi pulled his phone out, messaging Erwin to let him know there still outside. Erwin had half moved in with them, not officially. No. He was an unwelcome houseguest that didn't know he had to leave. With Hanji in hospital, then out and with plans for Moblit's funeral, it'd been easier to travel from Levi's apartment rather than the drive from home "Texting Erwin?" "Yeah..." "Anything interesting?" "I thought I better tell him where we are, before he files a missing persons report" "He does know he doesn't live with us, right?" "I was just wandering the same thing" Levi's phone vibrated, Erwin replying "to stay there" "What did he stay?" "To stay here. I don't know where he thought we were going" "He's got the car keys too... I'm game to try making a run for it, if you are" "You really don't want to be here, do you?" "Here is fine. It would be even more fine if people kept their shitty scents to themselves" God. He was so proud of how Eren sounded right then. It was clear Eren was his omega. "What's this about scents?" Eren let out a scream, surprised by Erwin's voice. Standing up, his boyfriend punched Erwin in the arm "You scared the shit out of me!" Erwin chuckled, rubbing his arm as if Eren hadn't just given him a dead arm "Sorry, Eren. I actually have someone who wants to talk to you" Leading a man dressed in a police officer around the partition and into the alfresco area, Erwin lifted two chairs off one of the tables, like Levi had "This is Floch Forster. Moblit actually suggested I contact him about Zeke's phone. I passed it onto him for analysis" Eren let out a small gasp, while Levi wanted to punch Erwin in the face. Now was not the time for this "You told him!" "Eren, it's ok" Eren glared at Erwin, while Floch just smiled professionally "With no new leads on your brother's murder, the case was passed down to me" If Eren was talking to the police, it might be safer if someone other than he and Erwin were listening. There was a lot Erwin didn't know, and a lot Eren refused to say "Is Eren going to need a lawyer?" Floch waved his hand "No. No. Erwin simply said you'd found Zeke's phone outside your apartment and didn't know how to proceed" He never should have let Erwin take it from him in the first place. Levi cleared his throat "That's right" "And how did you know it was Zeke's?" "It... was the cover he had on when I was with him" Eren didn't want to be talking, he was begging Levi to save him with his eyes "And did you turn it on? To confirm?" Eren shook his head, looking down to his lap then back to Levi "I did. Erwin was with me" "And neither of you deleted anything from it?" "No. There didn't seem to be anything on it. We only checked the messages and call log, both of them were empty" Floch's nodding, and never wavering smile, were getting on his nerves "I just have one more question for now. How long was the phone in your possession before you passed it into Erwin's?" "Overnight" "Thanks, fellas. Eren, I might have some questions for you when the analysis results come in. Is it ok if you come in and answer some questions that might come up for me" "I don't know anything... I don't even know what Zeke did for a job... I don't know anything" Eren was starting to panic, even Floch seemed to notice the strong sour scent "Today is not the day for this. Eren was extremely close to Moblit. He also has PTSD and extreme anxieties. That's without mentioning the fact he was forced to witness his brother's murder, before being left for dead" His voice was icy cold, his teeth bared. Eren was not prepared for any kind of questioning, and Erwin was a fucking douche for pulling this. Floch held that same fucking smile "I wouldn't dream of asking for him to come in alone. I'll be in touch" Floch left, Levi reaching over and pulling Eren until he climbed into his lap. His omega was having a fucking panic attack... after he worked so hard to prevent the one inside the bar "Levi" Shooting a glare at Erwin, Levi was done "Give me my fucking keys" "Uh. What?" "My fucking keys. I don't care who the fuck you go home with, but it won't be with us" "Levi, I..." "You what? You knew this day was hard enough for all of us, and you pull this fucking shit. I can't even look at you, without wanting to punch you in the fucking face" Eren whining, pitching forward and throwing up on Erwin's shoes. He fucking deserved it. Holding his hand out, Erwin pulled his keys out with a sigh, and a grimace. Levi was tempted to pat Eren on the back in the hopes he'd throw up on them again "I was only trying to help" "You could have picked any other day. Any" Placing his keys in his hand, Erwin rose, not saying anything as he walked away. Lifting Eren, he sidestepped the puddle "We're going home. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell Hanji what happened" Eren still wasn't breathing properly, but Levi had the feeling he wasn't going to settle down until they were safely back at the apartment, in an environment Eren knew was safe.

Can you write boyfriend!reggie imagine where the reader tells reggie to say “Ily” back but it’s hard for him bcs his reputation and they end up breaking up and she ends up dating sweet pea GOSSIP GIRL VIBES WHEN CHUCK DIDNT TELL BALIR ILY BACK :’)

“I Love You”: Reggie x Reader Imagine

I decided to split this into two parts!!!! I hope you enjoy this first one.

Words: 1,742

Warnings: Light swearing and heartbreak 3

You and Reggie have been dating for a fair bit, or at least it seems that way, Reggie was never able to hold a stable relationship due to his flirtatious nature but somehow, just somehow you managed to entice the jock enough to get him to be faithful. And yes, you’ve had your doubts but Reggie couldn’t be sweeter than he already is. Which is why it makes your stomach turn when you realized he has yet to repeat the words back to you. “You’re over-thinking it, (Y/N). Maybe it’s the anniversary blues.” Betty says, as you wrap yourself in endless blankets, eyes stained red with the drying tears from the night before. “Plus, as much as you want to believe you’ve changed Reggie, there’s always going to be a part of him that’s too proud of his masculinity to say soft words like that. Just give it time.”

And time you gave. Your 3rd year anniversary with Reggie is approaching, along with graduation. Maybe it’s the sadness in your heart consuming you, the sadness that this may or may not be the last time you see him depending on where either of you go to college. Reggie, already a prospect for a sports scholarship all over the country and even in Canada but you? Your parents got you to work at their production company for a year or two before going to college. A destiny you were bound to have before you could make your own choices. 

Taking a deep breath, you approach Reggie at his locker and getting up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. He jumps back slightly, a little surprised at you being there. “Woah, you scared me.” A small smile plays at his lips as he gives you a quick peck. Taking a look around, as if to check if any of his teammates saw him give public affection to his girlfriend.

“Is everything alright?” You ask and Reggie, as he has been doing lately, brushes it off and shuts his locker. “Homecoming is coming up. Are you ready for the game?” You change the subject, hoping that trying to take an interest into his hobbies would somehow allow him to pay more attention to you. It’s the time of the year where all the seniors are packed with applications and final projects that none of their minds are set straight. Especially with homecoming, no one could focus on anything else.

“Yeah. I’ve heard that a lot of scouts for schools could be there and yeah.” Reggie sighs as he squeezes your hand, smiling down at you with begging eyes.

Your hand drops to your sides as you sigh. Holding onto your books in your arms, Reggie’s eyes fall. “You have to cancel another date night? I understand. I’ll just see you, whenever I guess.” You walk past him as your shoulders bump. Another date night cancelled because Reggie needs as much practice as possible for the big game and though you understand, this is important for him, but he’s been blowing you off for sometime now and you can’t think of the last time you two properly spent time together and you wonder if he even remembers that your anniversary is coming up. Most likely not.

Another night of you being cooped by the bar at Pop’s, stirring your milkshake absentmindedly as you eat fry by fry and stare into the distance. You don’t notice a tall figure, clad in all black with the exception of a flannel, slide into the spot next to yours. “(Y/N)?” Your ears perk as you look up and see Sweet Pea, one of the Southside High students that transferred over to Riverdale High when their school got shut down. “You’re here alone?”

“As I always am.” You raise your hand and ask for the food to be packed for home. “What brings you here? No Serpent duties tonight?” You question. You were one of the few students that opened their arms to the Southside students when they first arrived. Reggie? Not so much. Funny enough, it was how the two of you met, when he first cascaded down the staircase and you sassed him to the point Veronica had to hold you back before you punched the guy.

“Nah, I’m too busy right now applying for college. Especially because I’m trying to get into medical school and trying to keep my grades as high as they are until grad.” Sweet Pea looks around, usually whenever you’re here Reggie is at your side but today is different. “Where’s Reggie?”

“Flaked me. Again. He’s worried that the stress from school will ruin his game for homecoming and he needs to be at the top since scouts and whatnot are going to be there.” You pick up the food and slide a few bills on the counter to pay for your order. “I’ll see you around Pea.” You leave with one forced smile before heading home, only to sit in the darkness with your thoughts clouding your mind. You check your phone every few minutes to see if Reggie has replied to anything you’ve said, and as you expected, he hasn’t but it still hurt. Maybe you are over thinking it a little, just maybe. So you promise yourself you’ll try to be the supportive partner for as long as you can.

- HOMECOMING NIGHT –

It’s the night of the big game. Your heart racing as you cheer from the sidelines with the rest of the Vixens. The one night where all students can forget about all academics and just bask in the school spirit one last time. You’ve managed quite well to forget the pain you’ve felt from how distant Reggie has been and you could spot the scouts out easily and could tell Reggie was at the top of his game. He’s playing better than ever but, then you remember, it also happens to be your anniversary and you haven’t heard a single word from him. 

As the cheerleaders take a break, you sink back into your seat, fiddling with the pompoms. “Everything alright, (Y/N)?” Betty asks, taking a seat next to you as she notices you eyeing Reggie. “What happened this time?”

“It’s our anniversary. He’s forgotten. I mean, does he even know I exist anymore, Betty? He’s barely looking me in the eye, he barely talks to me anymore and when we do he dares not to show any kind of affection. I don’t think he even loves me anymore.”  You look up at Reggie, he spots you but looks away as quickly as he does.

“Has he, you know, said the words?” You shake your head. You truly felt like what you have is special and people would tell you so. Even Reggie has said it before, that he’s never felt so strongly for someone but thinking back at it now, it all just felt like lies to keep you by his side. Everything you ever knew was slowly crumbling but you weren’t about to let it defeat you. You were determined to get him to say the words he’s always choked up on saying.

And as expected, the Bulldogs won and you felt proud. You let the Bulldogs celebrate with each other first before Reggie makes his way towards you, rather slowly. Archie sprinted up to Veronica and engulfed her in a big hug whereas Reggie looked like he didn’t want to be there. He smiles softly at you, leaning in for a kiss but you turn your head, so instead of your lips, he kisses your cheek. “Babe, is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, really Reggie? You’re just going to pretend that you haven’t ghosted me for the past three weeks and have forgotten what today is?” You feel your throat close up, but you suck it in, you have to be the strong one here. Don’t let him see how much he has hurt you.

“It’s Homecoming?” Reggie says, confused as to why you could be angry at this day. “Babe, we just won! All the scouts look happy and I’ve played the best I have in my entire Bulldogs career, why can’t you be happy for me?”

“It’s our Anniversary, Reggie. Our third year anniversary!” You shout. Archie and Veronica noticing and having to be pushed away by Betty to give you two space. “I knew that dating you, the big cocky jock captain was going to be dangerous and people warned me that I’d end up getting my heart broken but I couldn’t help the way I feel. We know that this is something special and I want us to last Reggie but I can’t help but feel that you don’t want the same. I love you, Reg. I do but I don’t think you reflect these feelings.”

Reggie sighs, taking a step closer and whispering to you. “I do, I just…”

“Then say it.” You demand. “Say that you love me, Reggie. Look me in the eye and say the words.” A small crack in your voice rings through, paining your heart just as little as it is hurting Reggie. In his mind, it races a million miles an hour and he lifts his head to look around, wanting to push those words out but the pride he feels for his reputation always blocked the way. “Unbelievable.” You scoff. “You’re so fucking worried that people will see you as a weak little bitch just because you say ‘I Love You’ to your girlfriend. I can’t deal with this anymore, Reggie. I can’t keep giving you the benefit of the doubt. I can’t keep sticking around this way if you wouldn’t do the same for me.” Your words catch his attention, worry clouding his eyes as he knows whats coming but he still couldn���t muster up the words to say anything. “It’s over, Reggie. I’m done. Hope your scholarship was worth it.”

You throw your pompoms to the ground as you turn to run away back to your car. Betty and Veronica starting to go after you but they couldn’t keep up. Sweet Pea, witnessing it all, gets up from his seat but he too couldn’t get an escape route out. Reggie stands there frozen, as he plays the image of you running away over and over again. There’s no turning back now. You were gone. And there was nothing he could do to bring you back.

If Iris and "Dawn" don't have a scene together next episode I'm cancelling the entire season. But this was a good episode.

I’m pretty positive they will meet. But I’m glad you liked the episode!

I absolutely love that the writers incorporated journalism into Iris' storyline in this episode. It gave her something to do while Barry, Cisco and CS go off somewhere. And adding Harry to the mix was a nice touch as we get to see his emotional side rather than his closed off genius side.

Yes, it was a great choice to mix up the pairings for at least one of the plots. I loved Iris and Harry working together, and how they both built off each other’s ideas between all the comedic beats. 

I swear, Iris and Marlize remind me of those anime characters that have that sharp tension where if they give each other evil stares, you'd see said tension between their heads. LOL! Especially when Marlize and Clifford were responsible for Barry's incarceration.

LOL indeed, they have delicious hate sparks. But the final scene showed Iris understands her too, and I loved it.

The scenes with Iris and Harry was pretty good. We also got to see Harry focus on empathy since his intelligence has been decreasing. For most of the time he's been on this show, he was always about the science and the only emotion he was able to emote was a temper tantrum by throwing shit across the room. And him helping Iris was also so sweet.

For sure, it was a really nice change of pace.

LOL at Cisco's "Okay, now I'm falling". That's my kind of humor when some bad shit happens to me. Last year, I couldn't properly enjoy watching the S3 finale of the Flash, because I suffered a really bad muscle spasm that week. I was like "Greeeeeat! Cheers to me potentially screaming in pain for the next hour, because I'll be rooting for Iris and my back will feel it". -_-. LOL!

Awww, I’m sorry about your back. But I agree Cisco was hilarious there.

Some thoughts about the extended promo for the S4 finale. So Barry is going to try to get into DeVoe's mind. With technology being shut off due to the Enlightenment, we also saw a screen where it says "Connection Lost". Maybe DeVoe will try to keep Barry's own mind trapped inside, hence him saying "We Are The Flash" as he once did in the comics, I believe. I think Iris will be able to pull him out. Plus, I spot Cecile in DeVoe's lair.

I’m worried about Cecile! But I agree about “We are the Flash,” and I better get my classic Iris-pulls-Barry-out moment! After all, we just got Joe pulling Cecile out, so it’s a nice reminder.

do you think the diapers line is going to have any payoff at all at this point? i'm sort of starting to wonder if the ORIGINAL plan was for Iris to be pregnant in the season finale, and that's what they decided to change course on after AJK left & go with a return to journalism instead. i feel like there were several baby hints in the first half of the season that disappeared in the second half (the glowing comment, Iris mentioning their first child, ofc the diapers line). and then it stopped.

There will definitely be payoff. Because either a grown-up Dawn shows up to inform WA they are parents in the future, at which point Barry can generally joke that ‘we’re gonna need more diapers,’ or she lets them know Iris is pregnant now. At which point Barry says it seriously, lol.

i never thought i'd be wondering whatever happened to barry and joe's relationship, but i kind of am now. do you think the actors don't want to do scenes together? why does it have to be Barry/Joe OR Barry/Iris?

I doubt it’s that the actors don’t want to do scenes together. As far as we know, they got along great. But even if they didn’t, they’re professionals. I mean, Caitlin and Iris have more scenes than ever nowadays... 

Anyway, I have no idea why they can’t do both. And where’s Iris/Joe? We know Candice and Jesse would love more scenes.

Day Eleven: Part 3 || The Alps

Connor Murphy x Reader

Word Count: 6439

Summary: The last part of Day 11 which involves awkward family dinners. [This is part of an in progress series. You can follow along here.]

[[Warnings: Mentions of suicide and a dead parent. Mentions of depression.]]

Tag List: [If you would like to be added to the tag list so you’ll be notified when a new chapter is posted, please just shoot me a message.] @hamiltrash-love @neverland-treasures  @xdsockmonkey  

Author Notes: This was written in parts over a depression fueled week. I hope that they at least vaguely fit together. At least knowing that I’ll have posted something, even if I’m not thrilled with it or wanted so much more from it, will hopefully be enough to ease my guilty conscious for not posting more regularly. xKatie

Out the kitchen window you saw Connor’s car pull up onto the side of your lawn. You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You’d spent the last five minutes listening to Holly chatter on and on while you stared outside. If you had to wait any longer, you might have seriously considered stabbing her. She only seemed to get worse the longer she was around. 

“He’s here. I’ll be right back,” you said as you jumped out of the chair. 

You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before running out the door. You were starting to have second thoughts on the entire thing. This was a horrible idea. Connor probably wouldn’t even come inside. He didn’t ask for this. He wasn’t going to be happy with you. You swallow and forced a timid smile onto your face, walking over to his window. 

He rolled it down and looked up at you, “Did you forget how cars worked? You use the door to get inside.” He pointed to the passenger side door with mild confusion. “You could climb through the window, I guess, if you really wanted but it might be a little awkward.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at him, “Shut up.” His face looked even worse in person. Without a screen in the way, you could make out every little detail of the bruising and swelling. His skin had transformed into hues of purple, blue, and grey. Sickly yellow patches were beginning to poke through under the darker tones. The sight made your stomach churn. You scrunched up your nose, “Shit...you look awful.” 

“Hmm, surprisingly not the first time I’ve had a conversation start like that.” He gave you a little grin. “I hope my face doesn’t make you lose your appetite.” 

“I’m afraid I already lost it before you showed up...” You chewed on your bottom lip. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to bring this up to him. You should have canceled when you had the chance. “I, uhm, have a favor to ask you. You can say no! You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. We could always leave if you really didn’t feel like it. I mean, I don’t even really want to do it. The more I think about it, the more awful it sounds. I’m just being dumb. You know what, never mind. Forget it.” 

Connor raised his brows, “Are you going to tell me what it is or am I supposed to guess?”

“Yeah, sorry, uh... hold on.” You jogged around to the other side of the car and got inside, perching on the seat to look at him. The memories of the last time you were in here kept leaking into your thoughts. It was hard to look directly at him. The reason his face looked like that was because of you. He had gotten himself hurt because of something you had said. Every bad thing seemed to somehow connect back to you. It was starting to sit heavy on your heart. “Where do I start?” It was a valid question. You had no idea what you were doing anymore. You were sad and empty. 

“How about you start by asking me what favor you need?” He took off his seat belt and angled himself to face you. “I promise I’ll be nice.” 

You sighed, “I was wondering if you would eat dinner inside with me instead of going out somewhere.”

He went to reply but, as he opened his mouth to speak, you interrupted him, “It’s not that simple! It’s...arg, okay...okay, long story, but apparently my dad has a girlfriend now. Either that or I let a stranger into my house and that stranger is now cooking dinner and going to poison us all and steal what little we have. But basically, there is a wannabe porn star in my kitchen who wants to surprise my dad and eat dinner with us. ...And I may have gotten pissed off and volunteered to invite you inside for a double date with my father.” 

The words tumbled out of your mouth faster with each passing second. You were starting to doubt everything you were saying and panic. “Wow that sounds weird when I say it out loud. This was not how I imagined our first date to be. Is it even a date? Oh god, what if it’s not a date. That’s so embarrassing. Why did I do this? What is wrong with me? I’m so sorry. I’m not right in the head. I’m all messed up and nothing feels real anymore and sometimes I feel like I blink and five hours has gone by without me noticing. I cry so much that I get dehydrated because I’m loosing so much fluids from the constant flow of tears that never seem to end. I don’t know how to be happy. Nothing brings me joy except seeing your face but that doesn’t even work anymore. Now when I look at your face all I see is the pain I caused you and it reminds me of Jus-” 

You couldn’t say his name out loud so you glossed over it while you continued to word vomit. “I just think of him because he did that to you and that was my fault. Everything is my fault. I’m an idiot. I say I want my dad to be happy but that’s a lie because I don’t want him to date. I don’t like that there’s a strange woman in my house. I don’t like that he didn’t tell me about her. I hate her. I miss my mom. I don’t know how I’m going to get caught up on all my school work. I’m so far behind. I was seriously considering dropping out and running away. Then I’d have to live on the streets or in homeless shelters but at least then I wouldn’t be a failure to everyone because no one would know where I went and they could forget about me. They could be happy and move on without me getting in their way. I’ve hardly ate anything in the past few days and when I do, I feel like I want to puke it back up. My body is rejecting everything because it wants to be empty. I wanted to enjoy time with you but that got ruined. I thought maybe for once something could be normal when we hang out. Then some fucking blonde lady showed up unexpectedly and I’m supposed to be welcoming and hospitable. I hate my dad for putting me in that situation. I wanted to make him feel what I felt when she showed up at our door. I wanted him to walk in and find you sitting there, ready to eat dinner, like he should totally know exactly who you are already. I wanted him to have to deal with a stranger invading his house. I wanted him to feel uncomfortable and confused because I didn’t tell him anything or warn him at all. I wanted to hurt him...what kind of person does that to someone they love? Who the hell makes the people they love miserable so that maybe, just maybe, they’ll start to understand how you’re feeling? I’m a horrible person and a shitty daughter and I was going to use you for my ill doing and I’m so sorry...”

You finally stopped to catch your breath and slumped against the seat rest. You kept your eyes on your hands. You didn’t want to look at him. “Now I’m embarrassed because I just said all that and I want to cry but I’m trying not to do that anymore. I don’t even tell that kind of shit to my journal. I don’t know why I said it to you. I’m not a good person. I’m insane and losing my mind and don’t know how to function properly. I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for any of this.” Your hands fidgeted anxiously together, “I should go.”

Connor had stayed quiet while you spoke. He reached a hand out and placed it on top of your restless ones. They stopped moving at his touch. You still refused to look up at him. You heard him clear his throat, “...You thought this was a date?” 

Your head shot up to look at him, mortified. Your eyes were wide with panic. “No! I didn’t think that! I...I...mean...I...” Your breath caught in your throat. Had you misread everything? Of course Connor wasn’t taking you on a date. Why would he? Why would he ever like you? You were nothing. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and pulled your hand from his, quickly turning to the door to leave. You had to get out of here. 

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” He called out to you and grabbed your arm to stop you. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant to say...hey...would you look at me? Please?” 

Bashfully, you turned your turned your head to face him. You could feel the heat on your cheeks as you silently wilted from embarrassment. You kept your mouth tightly shut. You should probably stop talking for now. It wasn’t getting you anywhere good. 

Connor gave you a tiny smile. His thumb brushed lightly across your skin where he still held your wrist. Your eyes drifted down to study the small touch. It made your stomach seize with adoration for him. “What I meant to say was, I hope you didn’t think that low of me, that I would take you out to a fast food restaurant for a first date. I know you’ve been going through a lot the past few days. I just wanted to take you out and make sure you were okay. ...Also I currently resemble a troll. I would hope that when I do take you out on a date, I would look more human.”

“When you do?” Your voice came out small. 

He shrugged, “Yeah. When I do. When you’re ready. I don’t think you are right now.”

He was right. You weren’t ready to start dating. Not after everything you had been through. You hadn’t given yourself any time to heal. Just a few hours ago, you were sobbing in the shower. That wasn’t the sort of person who should rush into any kind of relationship. You took a deep breath, “What if I’m never ready?”

Connor sat on the question for a minute. His brows were knitted together in thought. Then he spoke, “You will be. In time. But even if you’re not, then I’ll still be your friend. I don’t willingly go and get my ass kicked for just anyone. You’re...special. To me.” His words were sheepish towards the end of his sentence, like he was having an internal struggle with himself on whether or no he should say them. He turned to look out his window and away from your staring gaze. You noticed his foot was tapping anxiously against the floor of the car. 

“You’re special to me too, Connor.” Without him, you wouldn’t be anywhere. Without him, you’d still be alone. 

He looked back at you. His eyes were perplexed and his tone was shrouded in disbelief, “You do?”

It was your turn to give him a warm smile of comfort. You nodded, “Without a shadow of a doubt.” 

From what little you knew about Connor, it occurred you that there was a high possibility no one had ever made him feel special before. If you were the first one than you didn’t want to leave anything to chance. You didn’t want him to feel unwanted a second longer. You clasped his hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

The edges of his lips twitched into a smile, “Is there really a porn star in your kitchen?”

His words cut through the somber air that had settled between you two and you laughed. It felt good to laugh. “Her name is Holly Silk. Tell me that doesn’t sound like the name of an armature porn star.” 

His features softened and lit up at the sound of your laugh. You watched his body relax into the back of his seat. “I’m picturing an older chick in a skimpy school girl outfit with pigtails putting a meatloaf in your oven. On a scale of one to ten, how accurate is that assumption. Your answer will be the deciding factor if I stay or not.”

“Okay, first of all, gross.” You giggled, “Second of all, you’re probably at a three on an accuracy scale. She’s dressed in reasonable middle aged woman clothes but the jury is still out on how real her boobs are.” 

Connor laughed. It was a delightful sound. You hadn’t seen him laugh like that before. It was carefree. It was relaxed. It was peaceful. It was a nice look on him. “I guess I’ll have to come in and join you for dinner to see for myself. But I’m warning your right now, don’t expect me to be a master conversationalist.”

You beamed at him and leaned across the seats to hug him, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! It’ll be so fun...and by fun I mean awkward and horrible and miserable for everyone.” 

He snorted and shrugged you off him, “Okay but what do I say when I they ask me what happened to my face?” 

“Just be vague and I’ll try to change the topic whenever I can.” You glanced back to your house. Your dad would be getting home soon. “Should we go in?” 

Connor sighed a long, drawn out, dramatic sigh, “Alright but you owe me future Burger King after this. I don’t come cheap.” 

-

It was odd to enter your own house feeling like a stranger. Holly had fully made herself at home in your kitchen. You took note of the fact that she seemed to know exactly what was behind each cabinet. This wasn’t her first time cooking here. It felt like even more of a betrayal from your father. She was important enough to him that he brought her into your home. Yet he never thought to mention her to you. 

You cleared your throat with a harsh cough to grab her attention. Connor had stuck close behind you. You could feel his chest practically pressing into your back. It reminded you of a shy child hiding behind their parents leg. “Hey, Heather, this is my friend Connor,” you stepped aside to usher him forwards. 

Holly turned around and forced another smile, “Holly. It’s nice to meet you, Connor- oh.” Her eyes widened when she caught sight of his face. She swallowed whatever comment she was going to make as she wiped her hands off on a towel and held it held to shake. 

Connor grabbed her hand with a little too much intensity. You watched him tightly squeeze her hand in his with the shake, “Nice to meet you too, Hannah.” He put on a big, cheesy smile for her. One that was caked in sarcasm. 

“Holly,” she corrected again. 

You had to bite your lip to stop from smiling. You pushed past her into the kitchen to see what she was working on, “How’s the taco’s coming along?” You wouldn’t admit this but it smelled amazing in there. 

“I’ve already got everything prepared. If you wouldn’t mind helping set the table, that would be a big time saver,” She followed you into the kitchen. “Steven should be home soon.” 

“Yes I am aware of what time my dad comes home.” You opened the cabinet and grabbed four plates. “Connor, would you mind getting the glasses? They’re to the left of the stove.” 

You carried the plates to the table and set them in front of each seat. The last time anyone had sat down at this table was last Christmas when your aunts stopped by for dinner. Mostly you just took your meals in the living room to watch tv while you ate. Connor carried a stack of glasses to you and put them next to each plate. He glanced at you to see what he was supposed to do next. You just smiled at him, “Pick a chair and claim it as your own.” 

He took the one closest to the corner with his back to the wall. You slid into the one beside him while Holly brought out each fixing and lined them up in middle of the table to create a little taco bar. Under different circumstances, you’d of been excited to enjoy the meal. Instead, guilt and nerves were settling into your empty stomach. Before you had time to think on it too much, the front door opened. 

Three sets of eyes all turned to face your father walking in. Each one just as curious as the next for his reaction. He stopped in his tracks, barely having left the doorway, and stared back. He blinked slowly a few times as he took in the scene. There was his daughter, his girlfriend he forgot to mention, and some punk kid with a beat up face sitting around his dinner table. 

Holly stood up and walked over to him, kissing his cheek, “Surprise! My business trip got called off early and I thought I would come to surprise you.”

You leaned on your hand and stared down your father, “Yeah dad. Surprise, alright. Surprise, surprise.” 

He took a quick second to regain himself after the shock and put a smile onto his bearded face. “Wow. This is...unexpected,” he glanced between you and Holly with worried eyes. “I can see you’ve met Y/N. Has she been, uh, respectful?” 

You snorted a sarcastic laugh, “Aren’t I always? Holly’s been so wonderful. She’s been telling me all about the two of you. Funny how it’s the first time I’m hearing of it.” 

Your father put his hand on Holly’s back as he stepped more further into his house. “I’ve been meaning to catch you up but, you’ve been so out of it lately, I didn’t want to bother you.” He turned his attention to Connor. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Connor. He’s my date for the evening. We had plans to go out but we decided to change them when other circumstances arose,” you kept your tone curt and your features detached. “I hope that’s okay with you. I wouldn’t want to suddenly throw something at you when you’re not prepared.” 

He cleared his throat and gave you a warning look, silently telling you to cut the crap. He stepped forward and reached his hand across the table to Connor, “I’m Steven. It’s nice to meet you, Connor.” 

You side glanced at Connor to watch him shake hands with your father. His entire demeanor had changed. It was different from when he met Holly. He didn’t make eye contact and pulled his hand back to his side the second his grip was released. Everything about his body language was more closed off and shut down. You wondered if he was intimidated by your father. Your dad was a big guy, after all. At first look he could seem rather threatening. It was great for being a security guard, awful for meeting any of your potential dates. 

“Let’s eat? It looks wonderful as always, Hol.” He pulled out a chair for her to sit in before sitting beside her. 

“Yes, Con. Doesn’t it look just wonderful?” Your voice dripped with mockery. Connor shot you a displeased look with his new nickname but otherwise kept quiet. 

The table was silent while you each prepared your tacos. You only took one. Every time you put food into your stomach, you’d immediately feel sick and start to reject the contents. Instead of food, you had been surviving off the constant anxiety twisting and filling your empty stomach. You nibbled at the hard shell. 

Holly was the first one to break the fallen silence. She placed a napkin across her lap as she spoke, “Steven tells me you’re a great painter, Y/N.” 

You hadn’t painted anything in over two year, “I’m mediocre at best. Besides I don’t paint anymore. I ran out of water colors, like, two years ago and never bothered to get anymore. It was just a stupid hobby.”

“She’s being modest. She used to paint these beautiful sunsets. I didn’t know you ran out. You should have told me. I would bought you more,” Steven spoke between hardy bites. 

“With what money?” It came out harsher than you intended. You knew it was a touchy subject. He tried to hide it but you knew better. Your family didn’t have any extra money to help fuel a hobby. You hadn’t mentioned it because you knew he would have bought you some. You had stopped asking for things years ago. It was better that way. He wouldn’t feel obligated to get you anything. He could use every cent to save up for important matters. 

His eyes narrowed at your question. Touchy subject. He cleared his throat. “We have money, Y/N. I’ll pick you up some after work tomorrow.”

“I don’t want them. I told you. I don’t paint anymore,” You made sure to drive that last point home to him. 

He shrugged you off and turned his attention to Connor. You could tell he was getting angry at the attitude you were giving him. It only fueled your desire to piss him off even more. You felt a bit of evil rise up in you and you smiled to yourself. He studied Connor’s face, “What happened there?”

“Hmm?” It was the first sound Connor had made since your father got home. All attention turned to him. 

“What happened to your face? You get into a fight?” Your dad gave him a hard, unforgiving look. He was still dressed in his security uniform. 

“Oh-” Connor gave you a quick glance. “Yeah, uh, it was a fight.” 

“He tried to scam off one of his drug dealers and they had to teach him a lesson,” you stated simply. 

Connor tensed. The hard shell of his taco cracked down the middle as his grip tightened around it. “Yeah, heh, what she said. Won’t be doing that again,” he gave a nervous, breathless laugh. 

Both Holly and your father stared in shock at the two of you. You chuckled to yourself and took a small bite of your food before speaking, “I’m kidding! God, you guys are so uptight. Chill.” You tuned your attention to Holly, ready to dive in. “Have you ever been married before, Holly?” 

She licked her lips and gave you a tight smile, “No. I have not.” 

“Why not?” 

Your father gave you another warning look, “Y/N. Enough.” 

“No, no it’s fine, Steven. Honestly. I don’t mind. It’s good for us to get to know each other more.” Holly was taking things like a champ. You had give her some credit. “I was engaged once. Things didn’t end well. But that’s all in the past. Is there anything else you’d like to know? I’m an open book.”

You scowled a bit and looked down at your half eaten taco. It wasn’t fun messing with someone if they were fine with it. 

Your dad decided to step in, “Personally I’d like to know more about your friend. Have you always lived in town, Connor?” 

He shrugged, “Yeah.” 

“Do you have any siblings?” Holly chimed in. 

Connor gave another shrug, “Yeah.” 

“Not much of a talker?” She laughed. “I have two older brothers. What about you?” 

“Just a sister,” he mumbled. 

“Why didn’t you go through with the marriage?” It was your best attempt to steer the conversation away from Connor. He was clearly not enjoying the spot light. 

Holly took sip of water and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Despite claiming to be an open book, she was obviously uncomfortable with there the topic had turned. “He, uhm...he passed away. Car accident.” 

You wanted to feel bad for her. Really, you did. It was just that your emotions still weren’t working properly. Empathy didn’t seem to be something you were capable of in the moment. 

“Oh. My mom killed herself in our bathtub,” you stated it in a matter of fact manor. The second the words fell from your mouth you regretted speaking them. 

The table went quiet. You saw Connor tense up out the corner of your eye. Your father glared at you in horror from across the table. You had never once discussed the topic of your mother’s death with him before. When you were younger, he said it was an accident. He never went into detail with you. It was only when you were older that you found out the truth from an aunt. Your mother was a taboo subject for your dad. Anytime you’d mention her, he’d close up and brush you off. The fact that you had stated the matter of her death in such a way, in middle of a dinner table full of guests, would be considered the ultimate form of betrayal to your father. A chill flowed through your veins. 

Steven slammed his glass onto the table. His jaw was set tight and his eyes were narrow. He harshly shoved the chair back and stood up, “I think it’s time I drove Holly home. Y/N, I expect the dished to have been cleaned, him-” He pointed a calloused finger at Connor, “-to be gone, and you to be in bed by the time I return. Is that understood?”

You kept your eyes cast down at your lap and nodded meekly. 

“I said,” his voice rising. “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” you shot back. You turned to glare at him. Anger began to claw up and out of you. This was his fault. If he had told you about Holly beforehand than none of this would be happening right now. 

Holly gently pushed her chair back and stood up. She gave you a sympathetic look. You only scowled back at her. Your father put his arm around her and ushered them towards the door. A moment later, they were gone. 

Your anger faded into sadness once they were out of sight. You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. No more crying. You were so sick of crying. A sense of shame blanketed over you and your shoulders sagged under the weight. This was what you had wanted. You had wanted to hurt your father. Congratulations. You had done it. Then how come it felt like shit? 

“...Fun dinner. Thanks for inviting me,” Connor’s voice chirped from beside you. 

You turned to look at him. He was trying to hide a grin. You frowned, “Something funny to you?” 

He shook his head but the grin only spread, “I’m sorry. It was just...such...a shit show.”

The more he tried to hold back laughter, the more you started to feel it too. He was right. It was a shit show. Only about half of the tacos had been eaten. All of Holly’s hard work was thrown away over a single comment. You snorted out a laugh. “What the fuck? Who brings up their mother’s suicide at dinner? What is wrong with me?” The giggles began to burst out of you. There was some dark humor hidden under all the macabre. 

Connor shook his head in disbelief, “I thought my family was fucked up. I couldn’t have topped that if I tried.” A few amused laughs came out of him to join in with your own. 

“I am so dead,” you said as you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes. “My father is going to murder me.” You shrugged, “Fuck it.”

“Speaking of which, I would like to be out of the way as soon as possible. I’ve already got a dad who wants to murder me. I don’t need another one.” Connor stood up from the table. “Do you need help with the dishes?”

“Nah. Leave ‘em. A little more chaos can’t hurt.” You followed him as he walked towards the front door.

Anger, sadness, shame, laughter...all in the span of five minutes. Talk about some serious mood swings. You didn’t know what was going on inside your head but it was a mess. The quick burst of joy you had gotten was already fading back into depression. The idea of Connor leaving was only helping the heavy sadness along. You didn’t want to see him go. 

Connor stood in the doorway. He was shuffling the toe of his boot against the ground. He seemed reluctant to leave as well. You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug. 

“Thank you, Connor. For surviving through this,” you said. You weren’t ready for him to go yet. You were afraid of the emptiness that tended to follow whenever he left your sight. You unwillingly pulled out of his embrace. 

There was an awkward pause as you both just stood in the door facing each other. Neither of you wanted to walk away first. Connor scratched the back of his head and took a small step back, “Yeah, uh, no problem. I’ll see Monday, I guess.” He gave you a halfhearted wave as he turned to leave. 

You wrapped your arms around your chest while you watched him walk away. Your heart was already starting to ache. He got about half way to his car before he spun around. You immediately perked up with curiosity when he faced you. 

“Hey...uh...do you want to go get some ice cream or something?”

You were already in trouble. Hearing your dad’s wrath would be a worthy to price to pay if it meant you wouldn’t have to leave Connor just yet. 

A smile broke across your face and you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” 

-

“I know it’s up here somewhere! Just...fucking chill,” Connor grumbled as he drove down an old dirt road. The car’s high beams lit up the dark road before you. He kept claiming he knew where he was going every five minutes. As far as you could tell, he was lost. 

“The ice cream is melting!” You held two bowls in each hand. Both of them were filled with chocolate icecream and topped with chocolate sprinkles. The icecream was starting to sweat and you could see it pooling up around the bottom of the cups. Connor had insisted you take it go. He claimed he knew of a better place to sit and eat. Your palms were starting to freeze from holding the bowls. 

He shushed you and squinted ahead, “There it is! See it?” He pulled the car into a field. 

You looked up. You didn’t see much of anything. “I see creepy trees? Are we going to summon demons in a field? This looks like a place you’d burn pentagrams into the ground,” you handed him his cup as he put the car in park. 

You didn’t have to look to know he was rolling his eyes. “They’re not creepy. They’re apple trees. It’s an old apple orchard.” 

You looked again. Apple trees were nice when they were full of leaves and red fruit. Without the flair, they were just stumpy, dead trees with long, spindly branches. The headlights illuminated the closest trees and cast the rest into dark, ominous shadows. “...Yeah totally not creepy at all.” 

Connor turned to give you an unamused look. You batted your lashes at him and feigned innocence. “I’m serious. Totally not creepy.” 

“Just trust me.” He pulled the keys out of his car. Suddenly the entire world around you was cast into darkness without the car to shed its light. The eerie feeling of the orchard only intensified. “Get out,” he ordered you. 

Your eyes widened in horror, “You can’t be serious.”

He chuckled to himself and opened his door, “I’m super serious. I told you. Trust me.”

“If I get murdered tonight, I have no one to blame but my own stupidity,” you moaned as you exited the car with your bowl of chocolate heaven.

You shivered as you stood outside in the dark. Connor walked around to the front of his car and hoped up onto the hood. He scooted back and leaned against windshield, patting the spot beside him for you. 

“In theory that’s really cute but, in reality, you’re basically cleaning a bunch squished, dead bugs off the glass with your back...” You scooped up a bit of ice cream and licked it off your spoon as you stared at him. 

He gave you an incredulous look, “You never stop complaining. Do you?”

You smiled as you finished the ice cream off the plastic spoon, licking it clean, “Afraid not.”

You watched him roll his eyes. It was becoming a common occurrence whenever he spoke to you. He shrugged his military style jacket off his shoulders and draped it over the glass beside him, “There. Now get on the fucking car.” Carefully, so not spill any ice cream, you crawled onto the spot beside him and laid back against his jacket. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled through another mouthful. 

“Shut up and look at the damn sky. This is what we came here for,” he plopped a spoonful of his own ice cream into his mouth. Instead of looking up, you watched his lips close around the spoon. Even if they were bruised and swollen, he still had beautiful lips. 

Eventually you let your eyes travel up to the night sky. You inhaled a sharp breath. Without the pollution of light, the sky was a dark black and plastered with bright stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen so many stars at once. It was breathtaking. 

You scooted closer to Connor’s side. The next few minutes were spent in silence, staring up at the beauty above, and finishing off the partially melted ice cream. When you were done, you placed the cup off to the side on top his car. As you kept your head eyes upwards towards the sky, you felt his arm snake around your shoulders. He pulled you into him. Your head fell against his shoulder. You smiled softly to yourself. This was worth the drive. 

“Make a constellation,” you glanced up at him. 

He looked down at you with an inquisitive look. You had never seen him this relaxed before. Everything about him was so peaceful. He was at home here. You were happy you got to share this moment with him. 

“A constellation?” He asked. 

"Mhm! Make me a constellation and I’ll make you one. Then we can live forever in the sky.” It was getting late. You had your daily intake of chocolate, you were cuddled up next someone special, and you were under a beautiful blanket of stars. It seemed like a good idea. 

Connor rested his head back against the windshield and stared up at the sky, “Okay. There.” He pointed his finger into the air. “See that star? The one just to the right of the tree branch?” 

You nodded. 

“Start with that star. Then go up to that extra bright one there.” His finger moved in an upward fashion. “Then go back down to that little one.” He painted invisible lines in the air as he connected the stars. “Then back up to that bright one and down to that flickering one.” 

You imaged a giant letter M painted in the sky, “So what is it?” 

“It’s a mountain range. Specifically the Alps,” he replied. “Now you make me one.” 

You wanted to ask him why he thought of the Alps as a constellation but you waited. Your eyes scanned over the sky looking for any stars that could potentially make the shape of what you were thinking. “Aha, found it." You pointed upward and drew a triangle with two lines coming out one end. You did your best to describe the stars you were connecting. “It’s a fish. You have to use your imagination. That’s what’s so great about constellations. You could connects a squiggle of dots and call it a bear or some shit. I made yours a fish.” 

Connor scrunched up his nose, “Why a fish?”

“Why the Alps?” You shot back. 

He shifted his body so he could better look at you, “In Frankenstein, Mary Shelley uses a lot of symbolism to describe situations. Victor flees to the Alps. He’s overcome with the horrors he’s inflicted and his pain of creating a monster. The Alps numb his pain. They bring him comfort. They symbolize the sublime of nature. The beauty that inspires both awe and fear. The mountains are majestic in their beauty but they’re an unforgiving force. ...They day I met you I was reading that book. You reminded me the Alps.” He went quiet and settled back down against the car. 

An unfamiliar feeling washed over you. You couldn’t quite place what it was. It was a strange cocktail of nervous energy, pure adoration, and a heavy sadness. You weren’t sure how one could feel such love and heartbreak at the same time. “I chose a fish because it reminds me of the lake. The lake is my happy place. It’s where I go when I need to escape everything but still feel the safety and familiarity of home. It used to be because it reminded me of my mom. But now,” you took a deep breath. “Now it reminds me of you.” You rested your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. Everything shared between you two had been vulnerable and transparent. You wanted to soak in the moment. You didn’t want to forget. 

Connor brushed a hand through your hair. His fingers lazily moved against your scalp to dull you into a spell of relaxation. “You know what you said earlier?” His voice was soothing and barely above a whisper. 

Through closed eyes you mumbled out a, “Hmm?”

“In the car this evening? When I showed up at your house? You said you didn’t know how to be happy anymore. That you felt empty. That you wanted to punish the people around because then maybe they’d understand how you were feeling?” 

You stiffened a little against him for fear of where this might go, “Oh...that...yeah...”

He sighed, “Me too. I understand. I feel that too. I just, I mean, I just don’t want you to think you’re alone in feeling that way. I get it. You don’t have to pretend around me.” 

You felt yourself relax against him and nodded silently, “Okay.”

Consumer Guide / No.105 /  Platinum selling composer,  Stephen Hillier , talking Dubstar and more with Mark Watkins. 

MW : How old were you when you first dabbled at song writing, and what did you “compose"? 

SH : There was a piano in my parents’ house in Welling, South London. I took some lessons, loved playing but wasn’t interested in reading music. So I would make up little tunes so I had something to play. I was ten. Despite having taught songwriting at Universities since 2004 I still don’t like reading music. I get by, just don’t ask me to direct a light opera.

MW : When did you decide you could make song writing / playing keyboards a career? 

SH : That was an accident. I started writing songs as opposed to “tunes” around the age of twelve. I heard David Sylvian say that he’d simply ‘given it a go one day’ and discovered he could do it. I thought that sounded cool, I’ll try it. I found it easy, so I just started writing and wrote loads. I haven’t stopped since. I didn’t think much about songwriting until many years later. I assumed everyone wrote songs, because everyone I knew did! 

When I met Chris (Wilkie) in Newcastle at the end of 1991, I was looking for a bass player to accompany me singing my songs. And I intended to use my songs simply so the new act would have something to play. That approach went on for a while, but… it turned out that Chris was a much better guitarist than me so I stopped playing, and when I found Sarah in 1993 I realised she was a much better singer than me. So I stopped singing. That left writing, so I focussed on that. And have done so ever since. 

MW  : How were Dubstar formed, and why did you leave the group in 2013? 

SH : I met Chris in Walker’s nightclub in Newcastle towards the end of 1991. That was where I wrote ‘Anywhere’, and it’s closure in early 1992 inspired ‘Stars’. I was looking for a bass player to form a band with, he played guitar so that wasn’t going to work. But we got on well, and loved the same music (Cocteau Twins, The Smiths, Durutti Column). 

When we started out it was the two of us on guitar. Different guitars though. Otherwise that could have been awkward. I discovered Sarah in the summer of 1993 when her boyfriend, who was someone I knew on the Newcastle music scene, accidentally left a tape he had made of his “girlfriend” at my flat in Jesmond. That was Sarah singing his songs. I was stunned by how beautiful her voice was. She had an effortless purity that really moved me. I’m not sure her boyfriend was keen on us meeting, but I persisted. We got on well.

After that I got sidetracked by something else and forgot about Sarah until she rang me up reminding me that I said we should do something. I was a bit embarrassed to have been so flaky, so we got to work immediately. And that was that, Dubstar was born, although we were called The Joans at the time. I finished working with Chris and Sarah in January 2014. I’d written and recorded two as yet unreleased albums 

https://www.dubstar.com/unitedstatesofbeing

https://www.dubstar.com/unitedstatesofbeing2

and felt that by that point the act had run its course. As I wasn’t interested in playing the nostalgia circuits, I decided to move on. The 25th anniversary of the release of Disgraceful is a good time to revisit some of the memories though, which I've done largely by accident. I discuss it here: 

https://www.stevehillier.net/dubstar-25/2020/10/9/dubstar-lost-and-foundland

MW  : Pick one track each from Disgraceful, Goodbye and Make It Better and  share some memories of the making of...

SH : My strongest memory of making the Disgraceful album was hearing the mix of ‘Anywhere’ come back through the speakers at RAK Studios with Stephen Hague. It sounded INCREDIBLE, like a hit. I loved it. That was the first time I’d heard one of my songs properly recorded and produced. You can’t go back to working on a four track after that

In terms of Goodbye, I remember the process of rediscovering ‘No More Talk’. It was a song I’d written at school, and although we already had more than enough songs for the second album, I felt I should include it, at least propose it. It was a freezing cold January in Newcastle in our studio at the Arts Centre, with me all alone, hunched over this tiny hard disk recorder putting together an arrangement for a song I’d written ten years earlier. That’s show biz! 

Make It Better was made in a very different way from the other two Dubstar albums, largely because we were living in different cities by that point. Me in Brighton, Sarah in Manchester and Chris in Gateshead. But there are so many stories about the making of that album. 

My favourite was that when I was in the middle of doing the first load of demos, I got a call from the record company. Apparently The Corrs were interested in doing a cover of ‘Stars’ and do I fancy meeting them at their Brighton show next week? I thought…yes. So I met the act, who were lovely as you would imagine. We had dinner together and when I dropped into the Brighton Centre to catch their sound check they stopped playing their song and broke into ‘Stars’, it was quite something. My song never sounded better than in that moment. The Corrs didn’t cover ‘Stars’ in the end. 

There’s more to this story, a LOT more… you can read the stories behind the writing of every Dubstar song at 

https://www.dubstar.com/

MW : What projects are you currently involved with?

SH : Coming up, there will be a second DUBSTAR: Lost and Foundland collection released in December 2020. I’m finishing that off now. I also have a collection of Christmas piano pieces out 4th December, 2020. Then there is the second Dubstar Preludes collection in January, 2021. Currently, Dunstar Preludes, Vol.1 is available now : . 

https://open.spotify.com/album/7B7yeG9FRjBNssvUGUSrhd?si=3SpaeFADSyOnMXnTCiUJwg

And then I’m launching an entirely new act in late January 2021. More details to follow, but what I can say is that it’s a return to songs with proper singing on them, rather than the instrumental piano pieces I’ve been releasing during this past year. I’m very excited about this, and was intending to launch it this year except for the pandemic. It’s the first time I’ve started a new act since Dubstar! I’m working with an artist from 4AD records on their new album too, which is VERY exciting. You will be able to find details of all of these project here : 

 https://www.stevehillier.net/

MW : You live in Brighton, what do you enjoy seeing and doing in the City?

SH :  I moved here in 1997, it was a choice of London for my career or Brighton for my state of mind. I chose the latter and have never regretted it, not for a moment. I don’t think I could live anywhere else in the UK, certainly not in England. 

When we had nightlife (!), Brighton was the best city of anywhere I’ve lived. I love the architecture. Brighton has extraordinary contrasts, Georgian Crescents next to newly built student accommodation, Victorian Squares opposite modern structures such as the i360. 

You can spot the history in this city from the buildings. The corruption of the 1960s and 70s developments, the Pavilion of course. The new development on the Level. Even the road I live on has mad history… the developers ran out of money as they built the road, so the houses get smaller as you go up the street. That was in 1895. 

MW : Tell me about your experiences on the last bus ride, taxi ride and train journey you had? 

SH : The last bus ride I had was from our office in the centre of Brighton back home. Tried to scan the bus’s computer network using the USB socket they provide on every seat. I discovered… nothing. 

The last taxi ride was one weekend in November (2020). The Uber drivers ‘round here have a habit of taking your job, getting to pick you up but taking someone else off the street… then stating to Uber that they declined your fare because you didn’t have a face covering. We flagged a regular cab and spent the ten minute ride home exchanging anecdotes about how bad Uber is. For the record, I really like Uber. 

My last train journey was returning from Bath to Brighton after a gig last February (2020). It was mad, there was a storm. The train was packed, every service into Paddington was cancelled, so we had to get off at Didcot Parkway… four hundred people on a platform in the rain and wind wondering what the hell they were going to do. I realised we were going to be stuck here on the platform for hours so got back on the original train and returned to Bath. I was thinking I’d stay in a hotel for the night, but I was on a promise of Thai meal that night so decided to hire a car and drive instead. I made it to the Red Snapper in Brighton in time. Apparently the rest of the passengers were stuck at Didcot Parkway for three hours in the rain. Some are still there now. 

MW : Coronavirus - do you feel the government should give financial assistance as well as moral support to the music industry? 

SH : This is not a simple question to answer. I do think the music industry in the country should be supported through the pandemic because it’s a source of employment for thousands, and a valuable export for the UK. I think the industry should be supported better in general, but not in the way it’s being done now. I think this country should take a leaf out of the approach that the Scandinavians have, on just about everything frankly, including taxes and fiscal policy! Free higher education including in the Arts, and proper ongoing support for arts venues. I’m talking grants, in order that their crucial role in forming communities is recognised and bolstered. And yes, that means spending money on music and arts projects that aren’t otherwise financially viable. 

MW  : How have you fared personally during Lockdown? What have you learned about your own character? Other people/s? 

SH : Lockdown has been… interesting. The biggest change for me was not travelling (I’ve spent the last twenty years living between Spain and Brighton). So I had a lot more time on my hands. That was initially daunting, a bit scary, then incredibly liberating. It led to a fabulous creative period for me. I wrote ‘Inside Outlines’ over a matter of three days. I‘d seen people doing gigs in their kitchen and thought I’d give that a go… and quickly realised it wasn’t going to be interesting enough for even me to watch. So I wrote, and wrote and wrote. And started releasing music under my own name for the first time. Also, I started working on the piano versions of my old Dubstar songs during the last days of the lockdown. Someone had contacted me on Twitter to remind me that Stars had been released twenty five years ago on that day. I’d entirely forgotten about the anniversary, so quickly put together a piano version and wrote the story behind the song so I could mark the event in some way. My wife told me that was a great idea, why not do another twenty five, one for each year. She meant, “story behind the song”, I thought she meant to record another twenty five piano pieces so went off to my studio and stayed there for a month. That was how DUBSTAR: Lost and Foundland began. I’m currently working on volume three. 

https://open.spotify.com/album/18DQiZMPfIvb7HqRtukpA9?si=mgSnZK3URe--KcSSxFTP4Q

What I have learned about myself is I have benefitted greatly by staying in one place for more than a couple of weeks. I haven’t done that since 1995. 

MW : What are you looking forward to doing this Christmas, regardless of Lockdown? 

SH : We would normally spend the latter part of December in Copenhagen, which is the cosiest city I know. I lost a Danish friend to breast cancer in 2018 and it hit me hard, very hard. I make going back to Christianhavn  and Christiania a kind of pilgrimage to her memory. That doesn’t look like it’s going to be possible this year. So instead, I’m going to get a big Xmas tree and put it up in November. I normally have the tree up until Easter, which isn’t mad at all if you think about it, so this year it goes up early and stays up until the pandemic is over. 

© Mark Watkins / November 2020  

So,

The Friday issue had just arrived.

I’d been at the Star for nearly four years, but I still got giddy whenever the fresh stacks of bundled papers showed up at the office twice a week. I made a ritual out of gathering copies for the entire newsroom, then settling in to read each issue with a large A&W coffee. Sometimes I counted up my stats, like Greg Nesteroff had, always looking to break new records with my output. As far as I was concerned, I was doing the job better than it had ever been done — and I was especially proud of my Me Too column, in which I’d attempted to acknowledge my complicity within rape culture while also expressing my aspiration to be a better human. I felt like I was starting to learn the social justice language of the feminists speaking out on the issue, like I’d built up enough credibility to write something meaningful and contemporary and, most importantly, moral.

I was halfway through re-reading the print version of that column for about the fourth time when Ed’s phone rang. The window beyond his desk gave us a panoramic view of the grey drizzle. He grumbled into the phone, grabbing at his notebook and jotting down some details. I took my feet off my desk and tried to listen in, noting the way his body language had tensed. He sighed heavily, thanked the caller, then sat for a long moment staring at his lap.

“So?” I asked. “What was that?”

He grimaced in my direction. “We’ve got another fentanyl overdose.”

“When? Where? Who told you this?”

“Young girl, teenager. The caller’s a friend of the family, apparently. He was really upset, said somebody needs to speak up about this.”

I stood up and walked over to his desk. “He said that? Does he want to go on record with us? Did you get a name for the girl?”

He picked up his notepad, looked through the glasses perched at the end of his nose, frowned. “Kessa Cunningham, he said. Do you know a Kessa Cunningham?”

I thought for a second. “Doesn’t sound familiar. She go to Elephant Mountain Secondary?”

“She’s a 2016 grad.”

I took a deep breath. After covering their grad cancellation, I’d come to feel a fatherly connection with those kids. I knew their parents, I’d sat through their school assemblies. A bunch of them were friends with me on Facebook now. Recently one of them had died in a car wreck on the highway, probably checking his cell phone. Now they had to suffer through a fentanyl overdose too? Hadn’t they been through enough?

“Well, I told him you’d call him back,” Ed said.

“You want me to write a story on this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know yet. But why don’t you go through the details with him, see how much you can find out.”

When I got back to my desk, I typed Kessa’s name into Facebook. When her profile popped up, I saw we had dozens of friends in common. One of them was Blayne. Right away I felt like I was falling down the same rabbit hole I’d fallen down with Ryan Tapp, feeling it all like a human instead of a journalist. In her profile picture she was mugging for the camera, with white-blonde Marilyn Munro hair and a black tank top. She looked eerily like one of my younger sisters. I scrolled through the mournful messages that had begun to accumulate on her wall.

After a few minutes, I called back Ed’s source. My pulse was throbbing erratically in my neck as I scrolled. Already I felt like this could be a career-defining story for me. All this time I’d been covering the fentanyl beat, and we’d never gotten a name like this before. There was still so much stigma, so much shame, but I yearned to get this shit out in the open. Here was the real human cost of this fucking drug, right here, and why shouldn’t we all know about it?

The source spoke on condition of anonymity, and made sure to repeatedly say that he spoke for no one but himself. He filled me in on Kessa’s family history, taking me through one family tragedy after the next. Only six months earlier she’d lost her father to an apparent suicide. She was fatherless.

“I can’t handle it anymore, man. You see these drug dealers just totally using young girls, getting them hooked on this shit, and everybody’s in on it. You can’t tell me these bouncers don’t know these girls are underage. That they’re getting exploited. But nobody fucking cares.”

My cheeks began to redden at his words. I thought of my dreams about the Nelson catacombs, of how I felt standing guard at the entrance of Tony’s Taphouse. I thought of Natalya’s words, about the shit I’d heard about Shambhala. While writing these Me Too stories multiple women had disclosed details of their sexual assaults to me, not because they wanted me to do anything about it but because they wanted me to know. I’d heard some disgusting shit, and I wanted to do something about it.

Something drastic.

“So what do you think? Will the family speak out?” I asked.

“I dunno about that. I haven’t really talked to anyone. Her Mom, maybe, might go on the record.”

He mentioned that the family had already run the obituary, and I flipped through the newspaper in front of me to check. There it was, with the same photo from Facebook. This had all happened two weeks earlier, so why was I only hearing about it now?

“You know, the funeral’s tomorrow. You could go to that,” the guy said.

“Do you think that would be appropriate? For me to go? I feel like I’d like to pay my respects.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure they’d be okay with that. It’s not like you’re the paparazzi or something, right? I mean, she had a lot of friends. The whole fucking community’s mourning. It feels like getting throat-punched, you know?”

After I hung up with the source, I printed off Kessa’s profile picture and taped it on the wall opposite my desk. Underneath her smiling face was the text I’d copied from her obituary. I stood staring at it for a moment, my heart thrumming, while I replayed the conversation in my mind. This girl was loved fiercely, popular and attractive, but had seen more than her share of suffering. She’d taken her father’s death hard, and now she’d followed him into the graveyard. She was the ultimate Me Too victim. I figured this could be a moment that galvanizes the community, that inspires people to flood into the streets like they do for the environmental protests. I felt like breaking some windows.

“I’m thinking I’ll go to this funeral tomorrow,” I told Ed, looking out the window at the grey clouds obscuring Elephant Mountain. “It’s a public event.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, we need to get someone on record, right? This guy suggested maybe the Mom’s going to want to talk. Also, I thought it would be good to put in an appearance.”

He considered this. “You didn’t know this girl.”

“Yeah, I know. But I went to her grad, right? I’m tight with that community.”

He sighed. “And what will you do while you’re there?”

“I figure I’ll just sit in the back, try to figure out who’s who. Maybe introduce myself to a key family member or two, see if anyone wants to talk.”

“Not at the funeral.”

“No, I’ll give out my card. You know, make myself available.”

He pursed his lips. I could tell my enthusiasm for this story was already making him nervous, but I didn’t understand why. Wasn’t he as sickened and appalled as I was? Didn’t he want to see justice done?

“It’s not a story yet, so I don’t want you going around telling people we’re writing a story about it. But if the family is willing to talk, well, then and only then will we go forward with it. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely.”

“If we’re going to do this story properly, I can’t have you flying out there like Superman. We have to make sure we’re being respectful, that we’re approaching this the right way. No messing around.”

“I can do that.”

He nodded. Ed had two daughters, and I figured they must be foregrounded in his headspace as we talked about this. I could tell he wanted to pump his foot on the brakes, but part of him felt like I did, like it was time somebody did something about these fucking child rapists and drug dealers.

“I want you on your best behaviour, Will. Don’t make a spectacle of yourself.”

“When have I ever made a spectacle of myself?”

After our conversation, I headed to the bathroom for a long piss. I needed some time to get my face temperature back to normal. I’d smoked a particularly strong indica that morning, and it was exacerbating my emotions to the point that my eyes throbbed. I splashed some water on my face, ran wet fingers through my hair, and contemplated vomiting. The source had described several elements of the story in cinematic detail that I wouldn’t soon forget and I couldn’t stop picturing her rigid corpse when they found her. It had been Nate Holt on the scene, apparently, just like with Andrew Stevenson.

Eventually I wandered back into the newsroom, intent on getting to this funeral and making the Kessa story a reality. I walked over to where I’d taped her photo on the wall, standing beside Ed’s desk.

“I can feel this in my body,” I said.

He didn’t know how to respond to that.

The Kootenay Goon