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redcherrykook · 6 months ago

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── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 1

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College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode one!

Song recommendation: bloodline- ariana grande

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Notes: Hey lovelies! This is my first time on tumblr. pls be nice! leave a comment if you like, feel free to go to my ask! to request drabbles of this couple

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A picture speaks more than a thousand words, so do eyes

At least when 26 pairs of them stare at you for being late, again. To be precise, for the 5th time in a row.

"Miss Y/n? what a surprise" Mr. Jeon stares through his glasses, direct and monotone as usual.

Bowing, you try to sit down at your desk that´s next to the door. "What is it this time? Couldn´t find your pens?" A almost routine like greeting from your teacher when you show up to class late. He tries to guess your reasoning each and every time, while increasingly mocking you. Just last week, when you showed up in a stained Shirt, he asked if you had to wash your clothes first before coming to class. You bet he found that hilarious.

On this day, his creativity seemingly died down, while his sarcasm certainly did not. "No sir, simply could not catch the bus. I apologize" you shake your head. Turning back to the Presentation behind him, wordlessly he resumes the lesson.

So likewise, you sit there. Waiting for it to be over. Photography has never been your strong suit but as a performing arts major, you needed this class to pass.

Not that you ever passed his class before, not in your first semester and certainly not in this second one.

"I will hand back your portfolios for the midterm preparations. I´m far too busy to be disappointed with them, although there are a few that gave me nightmares" his steps are small but powerful as he walks around the classroom, head pointed to the floor, his fluffy brown hair making it hard to read his face. It was blank, no one needed to see it to know. With his arms folded across his chest, he stands still.

If any other teacher had joked about having nightmares from awful projects, the class would have bursted into laughter and groans. In mister Jeon´s class, it remains silent, because for him, it´s not a joke.

Grabbing the pile of folders on his desk, he parades around the classroom, silently throwing folders down on the desk of the student it belongs to. Occasionally, a sigh of relief can be heard from your classmates.

When he reaches your desk, he slams the folder down, scoffing with his belittling smirk. It´s rare to see his face outside of his blank expression or unamused scoff, but when it does change, it is never positive.

Failed, repeatedly.

For one, because you prioritized other classes, far more important ones. Staying up until ungodly hours in the night to research for your English literature class and at the same time, trying to recall the notes for your practical music exam took a lot out of you. On second viewing, because your shitty 3 year old camera is barely holding on and you have no sense of stylistic layout or skill for settings and atmospheres. Not in pictures, at least.

Like you said, photography has never been your strong suit.

The bell finally releases you from the horrible strings of mr. Jeons depressing class, that is until his stern voice stops you from actually leaving.

"I have never had a student as careless as you" his scoff is as belittling as his eyes that look down at you. Without having to say it, they tell you how highly he thinks of himself, how lowly he thinks of you. Mr. Jeon has never been nice, too straight forward, never showing understanding for any misdemeanor. Handed the assignment in 5 minutes late? He would not dare grade it, even touch it. If you had worked tirelessly? , too bad. Ignoring the evidence of eyebags and puffy faces, he believes everyone simply lacks discipline.

"You show up late every time, fail every single exam, barely pass any group participation. Do you need this class for credits? I would drop out and take something that doesn´t require thinking, like theater. You have no chance of passing here" The words fall off his tongue naturally, so do the last footsteps of students leaving the class.

"I do not understand sir, why this concerns you at all. You have no consideration or awareness of my circumstances, I would expect some empathy from someone who´s job it is to interact with people" Honesty is not owned by him, for once, you decide to not let people treat you as if you were below them.

Once again, a scoff paints his lips as he steps closer, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly like he is taken by surprise from the sudden change of heart you seemingly underwent. Maybe it is just that no one has ever tried to talk back to him, knowing it leads practically nowhere. You know that as well, but the need to try and scream for the smallest drop of understanding, maybe even reassurance overcomes you with the sudden confrontation.

"Understanding? I think you are the one that needs to understand. Grow up, the world isn´t made to adapt and cradle you" It´s now your turn to scoff, your head shaking with a laugh of disbelief.

"That is exactly what I meant. The way my life is, I am well aware, mr. Jeon, that the world does not give a fuck about its people. Maybe, just maybe you know" you pause, searching his face for reaction as the frustration boils up, begging to be led out. As expected, it reads nothing. "You could try to see things apart from yourself, not everyone lives a life like yours"

"Oh my god, you poor little thing hm? What is it, lost your Phone? Got broken up with? People like you will find anything, anything in order to avert the blame. Its so-" he stops, his eyes darkening, the tattooed hand slips out of his pocket to swipe right through his hair. In a whisper of disgust, he resumes "...pathetic"

As a means to shield yourself from the way he spits out his words, your voice raises.

"Lost my home among other things, that good enough?" The words leave your mouth hurriedly, while wishing to be met with a soft smile. Stupidly enough, you know that´s very far from the reality that will weigh down on you in a matter of seconds. According to him, you are delusional anyways

The secret of yours that you had kept so warmly, so safely deep down in your mind had crept its way out your mouth, betraying you shamelessly. Not as shameless as the blatant lack of sympathy from the male stood in front of you.

" Good enough? Everyone has some shit they went through. You´re simply a loser, a lonely loser who cannot get over themselves. Get some help kid if you can´t do things for yourself but stop expecting people to let everything slide because of your helplessness. This huge victim complex of yours is infuriating. Did you expect me to cry and say oh what a cruel world, you poor little girl, i will let you pass my class?" Relentlessly he rants, with every word the sound of a distant laughter in your mind grows.

Regret.

Every second that passes he manages to give you further proof that you were never to find a spot in people's uselessly stern hearts.

Stammering to leave, the only words you manage to utter are "You´re heartless" mustering the courage to look at him is as far gone as your belief in his existence of ability to care.

Out, you want out of this wall tightening lecture hall that´s suffocating you with the strong hands of his stern voice.

"Good thing I don´t rely on the validation of others. I´m suspending you from this class to save you some work you would not do anyways" he turns sharply, walking back to his desk.

Parallel to him, you storm out of the University. Anywhere, anywhere is better right now.

Clouded by the tears of your resurfacing past you run along the streets. History repeats itself, the cycle of trust and naitivity is your biggest weakness.

Giving a way a piece of you for someone to keep safe, for someone to listen to, to care,

It has never worked before.

Stupid.

On and on unsure at this point if you were running from his words or ones of your own mind. They laugh at you, telling you their "I told you so"

Being powered simply by fear, and really, only fear, is far from enough to keep running, but you can´t stop. You can´t see either. Apparently, neither can the biker that runs into you, knocking you cold to the ground.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"She really did not show up, expected, Good." he mumbles to himself while sorting the material on his desk. The small cubicle like space in the teachers workroom is decorated with photographs of his very own camera. Simple, organized, plain.

"Who did not?" Mrs. Park´s curious voice rings next to him, as his fellow art subject teacher, they share most of their students.

Nosy, he thinks.

"Lee Y/n. I suspended her recently and I-"

"You mean the girl from the accident?" casually she mentions it.

The cut off on the other hand, is sharp and unexpected. Jungkook is shocked for one, because someone interrupted him and two, because of the mention of you in an accident.

"Excuse me, an accident?" mentally cursing at himself for appearing to show interest in the situation, he diverts his attention to the teacher next to him. It must be a misunderstanding.

"Jungkook with all due respect how did you think a girl lying in the hospital for the past three days is going to show up to your class? You and your high expectations" She shakes her head, having completely misjudged the situation. Surprisingly, that is not his priority.

"Three days? How come I have not heard of this? How unreliable" He scoffs, old habits die hard, certainly for Jeon Jungkook.

Mrs. Park hums, reluctantly whispering "Probably because people are.. speculating. She has lots of problems , if you understand what im trying to say" it is subtle, fleeting, but her eyes glance up at him with the raise of an eyebrow

It flashes to Jungkooks as briefly as his coworkers judgemental eyes. His mind goes on to remember his conversation, well, argument with that stupidly helpless student of his.

Three days ago.

Mentally, he shakes his head.

Bullshit.

Even if she tried something, he isn´t to blame.

Right?

"Anyways, I think she is in Incheon hospital now. I might visit her later, she used to be in my literature course" Mrs. Park voice fades out as she stands up to leave.

Doumbfounded he sits there, tied to the chair by the revelation that he might have sent someone to a hospital.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

I can not believe I´m driving to the fucking hospital. He curses at himself while punching in the address of Incheon hospital onto his phone. It´s okay Jungkook, you´re doing this for YOUR sanity. Has nothing to do with that idiot. The words keep reassuring him of his selfishness, maybe trying to convince him that what he is feeling is not empathy, no, it is just to soothe his mind.

Why was he anxious in the first place? Not like it would make a change.

And so, 25 minutes of staring blankly at the road commence.

Blankly, because he needed to focus.

Blankly because he was not willing to face the possibilties his thoughts hold at the moment.

When he finally arrives, the huge metal doors welcome him in.

Straight to the receptionist he goes, asking for your room, providing proof of acquaintance with the patient.

What a hassle it was to gather everything, he remembers

And yet it does not stop him from heading up to the second floor.

Having just woken up from your second nap of the day, you audibly groan when the door opens, expecting to see a nurse.

"What the fuck" staring at your asshole photography teacher that is, somehow, in your hospital room.

"Good afternoon to you as well" he replies, as always, far removed from any and all emotion.

"Am I having a nightmare?" Questioning the validity of this surely odd situation, you sit up, combing through your hair. He Sighs, removing his coat and sitting at the chair across from your hospital bed. He would never dare to think he should ask if you even find it tolerable he is there.

He wants to speak to you, so he will.

"No, unfortunately not" Without knowing what to say further, because frankly he does not even know why he came here, he remains silent.

"Did you seriously come here? For what, to tell me to go to school because everyone has accidents and i need to get over myself?" The bitterness of your words match the usual one of his own, tainted ones. However this time, his eyes shift briefly.

Worry.

You think, at least.

"I get it, I was an asshole. Don´t tell me you jumped in front of a biker because of it" the strong, decorated hand of his makes it´s way to rub against his forehead as his voice comes out in a low groan of frustration. No need to sugarcoat, this is all he needed to know from you. Right?

Deciding to use it for a little revenge, you leave his semi question uncommented.

"Came here to apologize? Soothe that non existent conscious of yours, mr. Jeon?" his eyes dart up to meet yours, is it as though he really believes his words may have been the cause.

Regret, maybe. If he is capable of such.

"Fuck seriously? Yes, okay. I came here because" he stops, his tongue pressing the inside of his cheeks as he looks out into the window. The words leave his mouth without him even knowing that prior to hearing it out loud, that is what he felt.

"because I got worried that I made someone try to..." he cannot bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Is that really what people are saying? God that´s awful how am I supposed to go back to College with this being my reputation" small, barely audible you chuckle.

"Ah, no. Well.. partially i guess. I ran out after the hatred you threw at me and unlucky me, your so called cruel world strikes again" At the quoting of his words you make a mockery out of his monotone voice, the absurdity of this conversation still not catching up to you.

"Don´t worry, if that is even possible for you, I will just get over my accident" With an annoyed laugh, Jungkook stands up to stand in front of your hospital bed directly, hands in his slack pockets ever so casually but somehow, dominantly.

"I get it you idiot, I was an awful guy that day, my god give me a break. I came here, all the way here to fucking try and talk to you, give me a chance" his eyes look down at you, bored, plain. His mouth betraying him once more, spilling the unknown truth from his plump pierced lips.

"You sure have a way of asking for things. I want you out quick so, make it fast will you mr, Jeon" your reply makes him tilt his head to the side quickly, muttering a finally under his breath.

"I decided to not suspend you. And I´m deciding that maybe, you should tell me your circumstances. I´m not going to be held accountable if you try some shit"

This is about him, of course.

Just now he's taking an actual look at you, trying to decipher how hurt you really are, he would never bother to ask though.

The bruises on your arms become visibile to him, looking them up and down with tightly pressed eyebrows. They look older, some of them appear fresh.

Is she being hurt? his mind wanders

A snort from you makes him snap out of his thoughts "What? So you can laugh at it?"

He groans in response, "If you stopped being so stubborn and listened to me maybe you would know why. I´m taking your advice god damn it, I´m trying to build understanding" both hands are now running through his longer hair, the frustration of the wall you build up almost making him give up. Deep down, he knows he can´t blame you. The consequences of his own actions are catching up to him slowly, just as the realization of his heart softening ever so slightly does.

Silence fills the room, being the loudest sound to present itself.

"Fine" you roll your eyes at him. Unlike him, you want to show some grace, show him that yeah, it is possible to go through shit and need help. Sometimes people need to be ripped out of their tunnel vision egocentric world to understand their flaws. At the same time, you worry your good heart will once again only lead you too give more than you should be.

"Took you long enough" he remarks snarkily

"Nevermind then"

"Oh my god"

You laugh at his response, making eye contact with him as he laughs too. Small that is, before catching himself doing so. Still, it made a smile try to creep up your lips at the unfamiliar sound.

"That was a first" as if you´d pass up a chance to embarrass him.

"Don´t mention it" returning to his habits as always, the stern teacher voice is perfectly matching his lurking stance. ´´You´re below me´´ practically radiating off of him. What a shame, you had just begun to find him pleasant.

"Okay so, summary: Was admitted into our shitty foster system, got a whole bunch of friendship trauma, had to run away from said foster horror house and am now basically homeless in a women´s shelter. Oh and before you ask, I have a scholarship. I may be poor but I am not a criminal" the hands up in a surrendering pose make up for the awkwardly tense situation after having revealed something so personal to your photography teacher. For the second time. Right now, it´s impossible to tell what he is thinking.

Nodding he starts off his sentence,

"you were right that is a lot. Fuck, now i get why you called me a heartless asshole. Had no idea a twenty-one year old can already live that much shit. I swear, I was convinced you were bullshitting because you just did not care about my class" his rambling turns into muttering when he makes his way back to sit down on the chair, the usually bored eyes of his look softer now, while his words are as insensitive as they have always been.

"You are meaning to tell me that outburst you had on me was because you were pressed i didn´t take your class seriously? I just suck at photography, but i tried" in a subconscious motion your hand clutches your chest melodramatically, a slight smirk tugging on the side of Jungkook´s mouth.

"I know you suck, saw all of those awful collages. I did mean some things I said, someone needs to teach you how to grit your teeth and stand up for yourself, would have taken you seriously much sooner" His deep brown eyes roll with the memory of your conversation, sighing deeply he shakes his head.

Oddly enough, his truthful joke about your inability for photography makes your heart a little warmer. The belittling presence of his turning into a much closer, normal one. While the distance of his emotions is undeniable, the closeness of his growing interest in your life is as well. His mind is occupied with your conversation, unable to focus on his only mission, that is to protect who he is. The mask slips but really, does he still feel like wearing it?

"If that is what you tried to express someone needs to teach you how to empathize and communicate with people, mr. Jeon"

He wants to leave the mask off for just a little longer

"Jungkook" his first name slips out of his lips seamlessly, in the heat of the moment, lost in the fact that for some reason, he wants to understand you. Not in a suggestion, he´s still Jungkook, no is not an option if he set his mind to it. He´s demanding you to adapt to him

"What?"

"Call me Jungkook. We have been far from professional anyways. Calling me mister and all that formal shit makes it weird" his face scrunches up briefly, the embarrassment of acting more like a highschool bully than a teacher is slowly catching up to him.

You can´t help but laugh softly at this whole mess. In a hospital, constantly fighting while simultaneously trauma unpacking with your heartless, maybe not so heartless after all photography teacher who now wants you to call him by his first name.

Cruel world, as he puts it.

"Sure, Jungkook" his name leaves your lips in way so naturally it makes him jump inside.

What the fuck?

"I guess we could learn a lot from each other then, idiot" never failing to remind you of his stance on your personality, the sound echos in the room when his eyes meet yours,

but it is not his eyes that matter in his moment, they have returned to their stern nature long ago,

It is the fact that he softened his voice, as if he was afraid to let you in his mind. As if it was only possible for him to let one small spot of his soften at a time,

While you were just as afraid,

"Yeah. Deal?"

He naturally irritated face showing up to greet you once more

"Seriously? What are you, 12?"

"With the way you're acting i should be asking you that"

Unamused, he manages to mutter out

"Deal"

It's like the nurse had waited for you to be done before entering the room, informing you that visitor time is up and Jungkook needs to leave. Your eyes dart to his as he puts on the coat he had hung up previously, thanking the nurse before shifting his body slightly to hover over your sitting form.

"See you in class then" with that, he leaves you to rethink everything that had happend the past days. More over, he leaves you wondering just how honest he was about the little deal you guys made.

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hiyashortking · 16 days ago

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Lucifer's Jealousy

Disclaimers and credit: read this post before reading any of my content, please.

Premise: Lucifer has a tough time with jealousy, but you’re tired of waiting for him to settle down on his own. It’s time to talk!

On the first day, you told yourself Lucifer is entitled to his feelings. You’d known the devil to struggle with jealousy based on his unnecessary conflict with Alastor. Even on the second day of pouting, furrowed brows, and mumbling to himself, you had patience. But on the ninth day, you wondered how you ended up in hell when you had the patience of a saint.

“Lucifer, honey,” you begin, settling down next to him on one of the couches in the lobby of the hotel, where he sat with his arms crossed, fuming. His eyes turned fully red a few days ago. His horns came out sometime last night while you slept.

You could see how physical touch helped to settle him. Some of the tension in his face and body seemed to dissipate when you snuggled up against him. You sometimes tried to make yourself seem smaller than him, even though you weren’t, because when you did this he switched from bumbling dork to nurturing daddy. You hoped that’s what would happen but you hadn’t seen the reasonable daddy from him in days.

And why was the King of Hell so upset? At first you worried your casual flirtiness would offend him, but you’d been yourself since y’all started fucking and though you’d seen some challenge in his glare, it didn’t seem like jealousy to this extent. You saw each other every day. You took turns doting on each other. Him with his money, power, charm, and experience. You mostly with your words.

You: Sweetheart, what can I do? How can I help you get through whatever is troubling you?

Lucifer, sighing: I’ll be fine. Thank you for checking in with me.

You: But wouldn’t it be nice if we figured this out together? I hate seeing you like this for so long. I want to see you smile again.

Lucifer softened a bit more. Were you finally getting through to him, or was he only just becoming exhausted by his feelings?

You: Can you please at least tell me what happened?

Lucifer sighed again. With every sigh, you could feel him loosening up against your body.

Lucifer: I’m sorry I’ve been so unfair to you this week.

You didn’t add that this was his behavior last week as well.

Lucifer: I don’t know what it is about her, but I just can’t stand it when–

You, against your better judgment, since interrupting him when he’d only just started to open up was not your best idea: Her? Her who?

Lucifer: Huh? Charlie, of course.

You: Charlie?!

Lucifer: Yes, I don’t understand how Lilith-

You: LILITH?!

Lucifer: Yes, and the bus boy-

You: ALASTOR?!?!

Lucifer: Wha- yes, honey. Are you feeling well?

For nine fucking days you thought his pouting was about you! You thought he was so madly, obsessively in love with you that something strange and minor, something you didn’t even notice yourself, drove him into a jealous rage. Once the shock and, what, disappointment? had their turns in your head, you started laughing.

Lucifer: What- what is happening right now?

You, holding your stomach as you laughed: This whole time, I thought you were jealous over ME.

For as many millennia as he’d been alive, Lucifer’s ability to process hadn’t evolved at all. He sat dumbfounded as you laughed at yourself and how foolish and self-centered your thinking had been.

You felt him put his head on your shoulder and an arm around your back. You heard him sigh again, though did it sound a little happier? You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked at him resting against you. His horns were gone. His eyes were closed.

Lucifer: “You make me feel so safe that even when I think I would normally get jealous, I just trust you and feel happy for you instead.”

You: “Wha-”

Lucifer: “When you flirt with people, I just somehow believe that you’ll still be with me a moment later, and you have been so far. I mean- I get my hiccups here and there, and I think sometimes I even like getting possessive over you, but it’s been mostly sexual. With you, I don’t stay up at night wondering if you’ll kick me out or leave me, I just … sleep.”

You: “Lucifer …”

Lucifer: “Just one more comment and I’ll shut up. Seeing you laugh made me feel so much better. I want to make you laugh as often as I can.”

This sweet, tender little man was going to destroy you.

But also, NINE DAYS JEALOUS OVER CHARLIE AND LILITH, AND CHARLIE AND ALASTOR?

Now it was your turn to act like a baby for days.

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer

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ghoul-slime · 7 months ago

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Mushy May Day 3 & 4 - Massage & Wound Tending/First Aid (Aether/Dew)

Ended up combining days 3 and 4 into one fic. Based loosely on that time Dew (presumably) injured his arm during the Prequelle era. As always, thank you @forlorn-crows for organizing this and to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!

Day 3 & 4 - Massage & Wound Tending/First Aid (Aether/Dew), cw for Dew's shoulder injury. Hurt/comfort, fluff, 1518 words

Aether notices it right away. The way Dew seems to be favoring one arm. The way he furrows his brow and rolls his shoulder seemingly every five minutes. How he makes soft little grunts and sighs of discontent at night when he’s trying to settle into his bunk above Aether’s on the bus.

When he broaches the subject, Dew denies anything is wrong. His shoulder is just a little sore is all. Maybe he slept funny, he says, brushing off Aether’s concerns.

But Aether knows the truth, and is pretty sure the whole pack knows what’s up actually. It’s Dew’s new guitar. The Fantomen. For as beautiful as it looks and as powerful as it sounds, the son of a bitch is heavy. Even for Aether it can be unwieldy at times.

Of course Dew hasn’t let it affect his playing. He never would. He’s far too proud, and rightfully so. Dew’s the best player Aether has ever seen anywhere in his life. And his playing continues to be immaculate, so Aether doesn’t want to push. Instead he watches Dew power through their set each night for weeks.

Until Dew’s shoulder gives out completely in the middle of a ritual.

A missed note, glaringly obvious. Rare to be due to Dew’s mistake and not because of some equipment malfunction (or Aether’s own mistake throwing Dew off, something he can admit has happened more than once). Aether whips his head towards the fire ghoul, knowing immediately that something is seriously wrong. Copia and the other ghouls are watching him now too.

Dew curls in on himself for just a split second before catching himself and resuming his perfect playing. But Aether knows the damage has been done when Dew purposefully ignores the rest of his stage cues and instead shuffles unsteadily towards the back of the stage as he finishes out the song.

Thank Satan they’re at an intermission. Time for Copia to change out of his white suit and into the red cassock. Instead of taking his usual water break, Aether books it towards Dew, who he finds leaning against the wall just past the curtain.

Aether knows it's bad because Dew has his mask off. His face is pale and he’s sweating bullets, cradling his arm against his body as he struggles to even out his breathing. But before he can do anything there’s chaos. Copia and the crew are scrambling to do what they can to keep the show going. Aether is being ushered back to stage before he can get a word in.

In the end Dew insists he can finish out the show from backstage, perched on a stool where he can rest the weight of the Fantomen on his lap. He even comes back onstage for final bows, cradling his bad arm gingerly, and Aether finds himself trailing behind him protectively instead of his usual routine of throwing out guitar picks and interacting with the audience.

Finally, the curtain goes down and they’re free to go. Thankfully it’s a hotel night and then they’re off for two days before they travel to the next city. A small victory.

As soon as they’re in the room, Aether is looking Dew over while Copia watches on worriedly. Dew keeps grumbling that ghouls heal fast, so he’ll be fine, but Aether can see otherwise. The shoulder is swollen, angry red and inflamed. Dew’s definitely pulled something, maybe even a tear, and then he continued to irritate it night after night until it gave out. Aether feels guilty that he didn’t notice it was this bad before, that he wasn’t more insistent. He could have used some of his quintessence to keep it from going this far… He shakes the thought away for the time being.

“Alright,” Aether sighs and turns to Copia. “The bad news is, as of right now his shoulder’s fucked,” he says point blank. No point in sugar-coating any of this now. Copia pales and he hears Dew swallow nervously and shift from where he’s sitting on the bed behind him.

“Good news is, I can fix him up in the next two days.” He turns to Dew to see a wave of relief wash across his otherwise stoic face. “But he’s gonna have to take it easy for a while after that. And that much healing takes a lot of quintessence, a ton of energy. If we push it any farther than that, you’re gonna end up out two guitarists.”

Copia agrees and they make arrangements for Aether and Dew to stay in his suite while Copia takes one of the regular rooms. The cardinal bids them goodnight and lets them know he’ll get them anything they need to be comfortable for the next few days while Aether works on Dew’s arm.

As soon as he leaves, Aether turns to Dew. He wants more than anything to scoop the little ghoul up in his arms and shower him in kisses, but he knows better than to jostle his bad arm. At any rate, Dew hates to be fussed over.

“How do you feel?” Aether chances, popping the cap of his water bottle and handing it to Dew along with a couple painkillers.

Dew snorts, avoiding Aether’s eyes. “Like absolute dogshit,” he answers, blunt as always, before swallowing the pills and chugging half of Aether’s water.

“Alright then,” he motions to the compression shirt Dew still has on. “Let’s get this thing off of you so I can work on getting some of the swelling down.”

It isn’t easy, but they work together to hold Dew’s tender shoulder steady while Aether slowly peels the fabric from Dew’s body. Dew winces as he finally pulls his arm out of the sleeve, and Aether presses an apologetic little kiss to Dew’s temple.

The kiss seems to break some of the tension, and Dew’s body sags. He looks up at Aether with a sad little frown on his face. He looks guilty. “Sorry, Aeth…” he starts. “I know I should have said something before it got this bad…” he trails off.”

Aether shakes his head, tells Dew not to worry, that he’ll have him fixed up in no time. Jokes that thanks to his bum shoulder, they get to lounge around in Copia’s suite for two days in a king sized bed and in the jacuzzi tub. Says that if they play their cards right, Copia will probably even let them call for room service to their hearts’ content. The mention of room service seems to lighten Dew’s mood even further.

Meanwhile, Aether works Dew’s shoulder, pressing feather light touches to sensitive flesh while he focuses his energy on delivering enough quintessence to calm the inflammation. Once he’s satisfied with their progress, Aether pulls away to go draw a hot bath. Before he can go Dew reaches out, grabs his hand and pulls Aether back to him.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Dew says softly, looking up at Aether. He holds Dew’s gaze, contemplating, before leaning in and kissing him on the lips, carding his fingers through Dew’s hair until they’re both humming contentedly against each other.

Later, Aether sits beside the tub while Dew soaks, periodically working another round of quintessence into Dew’s shoulder as the little ghoul dozes off, finally beginning to relax as the pain goes down thanks to Aether’s ministrations.

Aether helps Dew out of the tub and wraps him in a fluffy bathrobe from the closet. Between the quintessence, the painkillers, and the hot bath, Dew is ready to crash. Aether guides him on wobbly legs to the bed, helping him lay face down into the pillows. From his prone position, Dew wriggles his shoulder.

“Feels better now,” Dew slurs, eyelids fluttering closed. “Can move it now n’everything.” He moves his shoulder in another little circle to demonstrate.

Aether chuckles. He loves to see Dew like this, blissed out and sleepy, he just wishes it were under different circumstances. Aether feels exhaustion pulling on him as well, between the crash of adrenaline after Dew’s injury and the copious amounts of quintessence he pumped into the little fire ghoul, his body is feeling beat. He’ll need rest soon, too.

But first, he climbs onto the bed and straddles Dew’s hips, careful not to press down too hard or to knock into his arm.

“Backrub?” Dew asks, eyes still closed and face pressed into the pillows.

“Backrub,” Aether confirms, leaning in to run his palms up Dew’s back, letting another dose of quintessence bleed from his fingertips into the fire ghoul’s soft skin, paying special attention to his injured shoulder. He massages Dew’s back until the little ghoul is half asleep and purring into the sheets.

Two days later, and they’re back on the road, en route to the next venue, Dew feeling better and set to shred once again, under the caveat that he doesn’t overdo it just yet. Aether has appointed himself Dew’s own personal masseuse. Now, after every ritual, Dew gets a nice, long, quintessence-infused shoulder rub.

Dew is happy to let Aether fuss over him, just this once.

#mushy may 2024 #dewther #aether/dew #aether/dewdrop #aether x dew #aether x dewdrop #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band fanfic #ghoul-slime fic #ghoul-slime mushy may 2024 #ok but in that video where dew is injured and he comes back during bows #and aether immediately rushes over to him and puts his arm around him #my heartttt

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haikyuufanficwriting · 10 months ago

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Chapter 8: Ushijima

Prompt: Reader falls asleep on Character’s shoulder Character: Ushijima _________________

Since starting your third year at Shiratorizawa Academy, you can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten a proper amount of sleep.

Much less sleep in general.

Being in such a prestigious school, of course the workload would be bigger than any average high school. You just didn’t expect to be struggling this hard.

Back in middle school, you remember being levels above your peers. Maybe it was the hours your parents spent drilling you at home, or just natural talent, but you’re pretty confident that your reputation half brought you here.

But as you would learn, reputation and talent could only take you so far.

With your house being way too far to walk or bus, your parents allowed you to stay in one of the schools many dorms. While you were ecstatic about your new freedom, it did have some pitfalls.

Pitfalls being that your study habits were only enforced by your parents. So as any normal teenager would, you started to become lazy. And your grades began to slip.

Fortunately for you, there was rule where students had to obtain a certain average by the end of the year, or they would be kicked. That rule definitely blew some smoke up your ass, because during your first and second year, you did your absolute best to keep above that average. Which you did. Fairly well, too.

But entering your third and final year, you were just so tired. All of the motivation and strength seemed to vanish the harder your classes became. You couldn’t understand your subjects, which lead the unhealthy habit of pulling all nighters, trying to grasp the material on your own.

Eventually, your sleeping schedule had become so messed up that you were only powering on coffee and instant noodles just to get through the school day. And like a deadly cycle, certain classes and concepts were harder to comprehend the longer your brain was starved of sleep.

One example being. Advanced Functions.

For the life of you, you just couldn’t seem to understand anything in that class. No matter how hard you tried to concentrate, tried to focus, it was always in one ear out the other. The textbook seemed so convoluted that it only managed to confuse you further, so studying on your own was a no go.

Needless to say, you weren’t even close to passing this class, and final exams were coming soon. You absolutely needed to do well in this, or else you’d get a letter sent home to your parents, and you can’t even imagine what they’d do to you.

Thankfully, your teacher had the same thought. After class ended, he called you over to his desk.

“I’ve asked a student in this class if they’d be willing to tutor you. I haven’t told them anything about your grades, just that you need some help. They’re available to work with you on Tuesdays in the library. Will that be alright with you?” You manage to keep your face passive and devoid of any emotion. Honestly, you weren’t exactly keen to be tutored, but with your grades this low, you’re really don’t have any other choice other than to throw away your pride and bite the bullet.

“Yes, thank you Sensei, that would be perfect.” You bow and make your exit, having your respectful smile drop the second your face is out of view. You sigh heavily as you made your way to your dorm.

You just hope whoever’s tutoring you can help make sense of this nonsense.

Ushijima was a busy man. Key word was. After losing to Karasuno, the time he needed spend in the gym was significantly less than before. Of course, he went to the gym to practice regularly anyways, working on anything and everything to improve. But, after the coach found out, he told Ushijima to relax and take a break, claiming that he should take this time to rest and relax. Just for a couple weeks, and to take time focusing on his studies.

The only problem was, he didn’t need to focus on his studies. Or relax. He already had highest marks in most of his classes, and stress had never been an issue for him. While most ordinary students could study everything under two hours, he could. While most couldn’t function with five or less hours of sleep, he did. Ushijima had gotten so used to his hectic timetable, that having a huge chunk of it missing was extremely odd to him. Like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“This is your time to find a hobby, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou had told him, to which he only tilted his head in confusion.

“But I do have a-”

“One that isn’t volleyball.” That made him pause. A hobby… That wasn’t volleyball?

Was there really anything?

If there was, he couldn’t think of one.

“How do I find a hobby?” He asks, causing Tendou to hum.

“You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.” Ushijima nods, absorbing the advice. It was good advice, but it did bring up an important question.

What’s one thing he could try?

That stuck with him, circling his head for the rest of the day. There seemed to be too many and none all at once. Even if he did find some that seemed interesting, which would he do first? Could he do multiple at once to become more efficient? What if he liked a new hobby but had to stop due to his schedule becoming normal again? If that’s a possibility, what was even the point of trying to find something new?

Ushijima was close to exploding with all the questions that he couldn’t answer and was about to call Tendou again for help, at least until his advanced functions teacher called him to his desk.

“Ushijima-kun, I need your help with something. There’s a student in this class, (Name), who needs a little help understanding the material. Since your season is over and you’re fairly good at the subject, do you think you could help her out?”

As if the gods heard his cries for help, an opportunity had dropped on his lap. But did tutoring count as a hobby? It seemed like a commitment too…

‘You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.’ Tendou’s words ring in Ushijima’s head. Well, if he had to try different things out, this seemed like a good start. With the thought being the final push, he agrees with a solemn nod.

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

You jerk awake from the bell ringing loudly in your ear. You confusedly look around to see students getting up and collecting their items around you, signaling in your brain that you must’ve fallen asleep in class again, and you slept through yet another lecture.

Guess I’ll be staying up late again…

You yawn, standing and picking up your bag before making your way out of the class, about to go the cafeteria, at least until you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.

Was someone calling you?

Confused, you pull it out to hear a soft alarm and text across your screen in dark bold letters reading ‘Tutoring today at the library!’ causing your eyes to widen. You had completely forgotten about it! You let out a slur of curses as you rush up the stairs to the library, hoping that you didn’t make your tutor wait too long.

Practically slamming the library door open, you speed walk to the study area of the library, searching the students that littered the desks, seeing if you recognized anyone from your class. You stand there for a couple minutes longer than necessary, with your extremely heavy eyelids making it considerably difficult to scan peoples faces, but after not seeing anyone at first glance, you start to walk around the area. You don’t know how much time passes until someone calls out to you.

“(Name)-san.” The deep voice makes you jump far harder than it should’ve, with you almost dropping your school bag. You collect yourself as fast as you could and turn your head to the sound, finding none other than the star of the school.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your brain blanks as you continue to stare at him, your mind too tired and too shocked to put together sentences. After a couple minutes of silence, he tilts his head, clearly waiting for your response. That manages to kick your brain into gear.

“Wakatoshi-san.” Your voice is meek, and your face flushes at how stupid you sound. If Ushijima sees your cringe, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a moment you had forgotten about our session.” His comment confirms your suspicions, but it only manages to disorientate you further.

You just never would’ve assumed that the Ushiwaka, the ace and captain of this powerhouse school, was wasting his time tutoring you. You mean, you’re not entirely surprised he was picked to help, he was one of the smartest in your class, (You’re fairly certain he’s a robot, how could someone be so good at everything?) but you just thought he would be way too busy to help anyone.

You also thought with his personality he wouldn’t want to help anybody. Honestly, you’re just confused as to why he even agreed to help you at all. Maybe to put it on his resume?

You don’t know, you assumed that being a prodigy in sport was enough, but you digress.

“Come, I’ve already set up a table.” He motions you to follow him, and with a soft ‘alright’, you follow him to a more secluded part of the study area, with a single desk surrounded by bookshelves, each stocked to the brim with dusty old books. On the desk was you assume his study books and utensils neatly organised. Of course he was a neat freak.

You sit in the chair just across from his, feeling your body almost go limp in exhaustion the second you sit down. You wait until he settles himself and opens one of his books. Your brain once more begins to fail you as you stupidly watch him flip through pages, basically falling asleep with your eyes open. You don’t even realize until you hear a sharp knock on the table.

“(Name)-san?” The voice suddenly comes into focus and you snap up. “Y-yes?”

“Aren’t you going to pull out your books?” Ushijima asks, face stoic as ever. You stutter out a slightly slurred reply as you open your school bag and search for your books.

Only to not find your math books, but your biology books. You scrunch your nose in confusion. It takes your brain a couple of seconds to realize what you did.

You switched your books on accident.

Oh, how badly you want to curl up and cry right now.

Not only was it embarrassing to have one the most popular boys in school tutor you, but to also act like a total ditz was almost too much for you to take. It’s almost like the gods want to mess with you for shits and giggles at this point.

You have to slowly put your bag down, and look back to your tutor, who’s been staring at you for the past few minutes now.

“Wakatoshi-san, I just realized I brought the wrong books by accident. I’m sorry but I’ll have to go back to my dorms to get the right ones.” You give him what you hope is an apologetic smile and begin to stand up, until his voices rings in your ear once more.

“That’s not necessary.” You pause.

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve already wasted enough time as it is. I have no problem sharing my books for this session.” With that he pulls out the chair right next to him and offers the seat.

You’re pretty sure almost every girl would kill to be in your position right now. You can’t stop the blush that forms on your tired face.

“Oh-uh… ah, thank y-you.” You finally managed to get out, wanting to slap yourself subconsciously as you take the seat next to him. The second you sit down; your overworked brain is hit by so many things at once.

He smells nice. Like really nice. You definitely wouldn’t mind curling up to that. Not to mention, his warmth.

You can feel the warmth coming off him in waves.

Sleeping next to that would be so comforting…

You’re snapped out of your thoughts again when you hear a textbook being slid over to you. If you were a little more awake then you are now, you would realize how intimate this was. Sharing a book caused you to be a lot closer than necessary, but of course with you being sleep deprived and Ushijima being Ushijima, neither of you commented.

“So, what are you having troubles in?” He asked, and you go to answer, only to be met with emptiness.

You were so confused; you didn’t even know what you were confused about. You mentally kick yourself. That’s a new low.

Of course, not wanting the captain to know how much a dumbass you were, you responded, “The first couple chapters really messed with me.” Which isn’t a lie, you just didn’t mention the rest of the chapters that messed you up as well. He nods and goes to the beginning. Then begins to explain the main concepts of the chapters.

“A polynomial function has specific characteristics that define them from another other kind of function. With those characteristics being a domain of real numbers, a possibility of the range being restricted by both upper and lower bounds, and these functions do not have horizontal…”

You hear his words turn into nothing but mixed sounds as he continued to explain. As much as you tried to focus, you feel your eyelids becoming impossible heavy. You were trying, you really were, even pinching yourself ever once in a while and biting the inside of your mouth as hard as possible, but with Ushijima’s voice this low and soothing, you were fighting a losing battle. You didn’t expect that when he wasn’t scaring you out of sleep, that his voice was actually extremely nice to listen too.

Not to mention his unexpected but totally welcomed comforting aura, his warmth, his smell and the quiet atmosphere, they were all begging you to let go and leave the realm of the conscious. While you were too busy fighting the war, Ushijima was too focused on the book and pointing out examples that he didn’t even realize.

You only manage to last a couple more minutes, until you see nothing but long awaited black.

“…Then there’s quartic, quintic, so on and so forth. There are polynomials bigger than these, but the likely not to appear on the exam so we don’t have to cover them. Between these main five functions there are subdivision that we can also use to characterize them, for example-” Ushijima is cut off by a warm pressure falling on his arm. He turns confused to find you, positively knocked out and now using his arm as a pillow. His thought process is cut off.

Well this is… a development.

Ushijima figured you were tired. In fact, he had known for a long time, that you weren’t getting the sleep you needed. Just a quick glance in class, or talking to you, your slurred speech and heavy eyes, made it easy for anybody to figure out. However, he didn’t think it was to the point of passing out anywhere and everywhere.

He’d be impressed if he wasn’t inherently worried.

He been around people who were sleep deprived, previous senpais and enthusiastic kouhai’s who couldn’t get enough of volleyball, and it does terrible things to brain. Once it had been the point of someone ending up in the hospital.

Ushijima watched you with worried thoughts swirling his mind, as you had a look of absolute comfort on your face, even sleepily nuzzling your face into his arm, which caused him to stare at you a couple seconds above normalcy.

His slightly weird stare was cut off by the bell, which did put his thoughts back into gear. What was he supposed to do? Wake you? Call a teacher?

Well, one things for sure, he couldn’t just leave you here.

So, seeing this as the best course of action, he attempted to wake you.

“…(Name)-san…” He said gently, nudging you with the arm you were sleeping on, you made some sounds of discomfort, before rubbing you nose into his arm again and falling back to sleep.

It was almost cute. Almost.

“(Name)-san.” Ushijima says with a little more finality, which does cause you stir a little more, even causing you to open your eyes a little, but he could tell you were far from awake.

“She’ll be right with you.” You breathe out, which does make Ushijima lips quirk up the tiniest bit.

“(Name)-san, you have to wake up.” He’s reached his regular loudness now, hoping that he wouldn’t have to raise it higher to get you to wake. Thankfully, you manage to open your eyes fully, but is was safe to say that you weren’t completely conscious. You were almost like in a drunken state, with your pupils blown wide and the dazed expression you wore. Looking at you, Ushijima then decided what he needed to do. He couldn’t possibly let you go to class like this, not when you needed something so vital to the brain.

He grabs you by the shoulders to bring your head off him, making sure you don’t wobble too much. Once he’s sure you won’t bang your head on the table, he gets up and starts to collect your things.

“Hm? Is the session over?” You slur, eyes have lidded as you watch him pick up your bag.

“Yes.”

“Did I do well?” You ask with a tired smile, clearly not remembering what happened. Or what didn’t happen. For reasons even he didn’t know, Ushijima decides to humor you.

“Yes.” You raise your arms in the air in happiness, letting out an excited ‘yay!’ in a shushed voice, which Ushijima is extremely grateful for, as he didn’t want to cause a ruckus in the library.

He turns back to you. “Can you stand?” His question turns your mood for some reason, and you huff like a child. “’Course I can stand! Who d’you take me for?” And very quickly, as if to prove your point, you stand from your seat, only for your mind to spin and knees to wobble. Out of reflex to stop you from falling, Ushijima grabs your waist to steady you.

You two stand like that for a while, with your bodies a lot closer than they should’ve been. After what felt like an eternity, you break out into a goofy yet proud smile.

“See? Told ya I could stand.” Ushijima face is passive at best and remains silent. Only giving you a nod while he grabs his stuff along with yours as you two make it out of the library. He holds onto your waist to make sure you don’t fall when walking, but when he secures that you can walk, albeit a little slow, he still doesn’t let go. Walking through the halls and out to the dorms you both we’re met with a lot of stares. And whispers.

Not that either of you noticed.

After he’s exited the school and begins to walk to the girl’s dorms.

“What is your dorm number?” Ushijima asks, for you to snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Uhhh… red… I think…” He looks at you, visibly confused.

“What?” You look at him back, clearly trying to think through the mess that was your brain.

“Wait… What did you ask me?” Ushijima has to keep in a sigh.

“Your dorm number.”

“Oh… That’s… Uhh… four…thirty-one.” You say.

“(Name)-san, there’s only two floors.” You two now stand in the front of the girls’ dorms, and since it was lunch hour, the likelihood that someone would be there, was considerably low, which did save Ushijima the explanation. You try to articulate a proper answer, but your brain this melted, Ushijima didn’t really have high hopes. So instead, he let go of you for a second, to read the names on the lists of the many mailboxes that littered the entrance hall. After a couple minutes, he found your name.

“208.” He says. Not even close. He watches the look of realization appear on your face.

“Ohhh, yeah that’s right!” He doesn’t hold back the sigh this time, grabbing your hand, and bringing you up to your dorm. Surprisingly, the dorm is unlocked, but you must’ve forgotten to lock it this morning when you left. He opens it and leads you in. You just follow in after him and just stare, clearly not knowing what to do.

Ushijima drops your things on your desk and takes you and sits you on your lower bunk bed.

“You should stay here and rest. You don’t have to worry about your next class, I’ll go and tell your teacher that you’re not feeling well.” He tells you, but like before, you just stare at him, telling him its just going in one ear and out the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s spots a random notepad and pencil. Ushijima turns away from you and takes the notepad and pencil.

“I’ll just write this down for you, so you can read it when you are in a correct state of mind. I hope you can learn to have a proper sleep schedule, it’s extremely vital to your health and not sleeping is actually- ” When he turns to you again to place the note, he finds you just as before. Knocked out on your bed, not even lifting your legs from the ground.

Ushijima watches you again for more than he cared to admit, before taking his stuff and leaving your room.

And to think he just wanted to try something new…

You slowly open your eyes, to find yourself on your bed and still in uniform. You sit up, confusion hitting you hard.

How did I get here? What day is it? What time is it? How long did I sleep for?

You started panicking a little, at least until you spot a piece of folded paper on your nightstand. Curious, you open it.

(Name)-san, you fell asleep during our session, and I didn’t feel it was acceptable to leave you, so I brought you back to your dorm. I told your teachers that you weren’t feeling well, so please feel free to relax and rest. I strongly recommend that you get a proper sleep schedule, as what you are doing is dangerous.

We’ll continue our tutoring next Tuesday, hopefully you should feel better by then.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You might just have cardiac arrest.

#fanfic #haikyuu #writing prompt #ushijima x reader #haikyuu fluff #drabble #humour

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vorenado-m · 5 months ago

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happy disability pride month! please consider helping me take back my life as a disabled person!

the TL;DR is that for the last 3 months i have had an absolutely soul-sucking miserable minimum wage retail job that, due to the way scheduling works (and the app being broken as fuck) has prevented me from having access to literally any of the life-saving mental health/medical care i need as a disabled person.

my disability is best managed through a combination of medication, therapy, and casework-- not a single one of which i have had since march! :) contextually, up until i got this job, i took three daily medications and had casework once a week and therapy once or sometimes twice a week. these services are offered at an affordable cost to me through a local organization that is threatening to close my case due to lack of participation.

ill make another, more detailed post later with some of the services i can offer for money (i draw! i code! i write!) but until then here is a code you can scan if you have a few dollars to spare:

there are more details beneath the cut (idk about you guys but im kinda nosy so i wrote some more stuff in case anyone else is also nosy) but thats the gist of it. you can also always ask for details. i dont have a therapist right now so it might feel good to say things.

my plan is as follows: i would like to take the month of july more or less "off" from work to get my affairs in order, starting with scheduling appointments for therapy and casework and getting back on my meds. i am actively looking for a job, but i would like the ability to be somewhat picky instead of applying everywhere i think might have me for the sake of having money coming in to pay rent.

for the last two years i have made less than $800/mo and i can survive on roughly $600-$650 a month. my july rent ($550) is paid and my august rent (at least $500) is most likely also squared away, through a combination of some cash i was hoarding, a previous donation, my last expected paychecks from my current job, and my brother generously offering to cover whatever is left over. the extra $100ish is for roughly a months supply of the food that is part of my daily routine that i get cranky without (i have tea every morning, for instance.)

i have a fantastic roommate who is not struggling as much financially who will do everything in her power to make sure i have access to staple foods (rice, eggs, etc) so i really just need to buy the things only i consume (kimchi, milk, etc.) there is a food bank i go to, so i am not worried about food, but i can only go to it once per month. we have a barter system where i trade her the things i dont want from the food bank and she buys me things i will eat; alternatively, i sometimes give her things i get from the food bank (eg meat) that she turns into meals for both of us.

i live independently/"alone" with roommates and do not have support from my family pretty much at all. they have never been particularly useful for emotional support and have openly denied me financial support since i was a teenager. moving in with them/getting help from them/talking to them is not an option.

i have emailed my caseworker at the mental health organization i work with as well as my caseworker with the disability vocational program i work with to help me find a new job that is "back of house" and requires less customer interaction. i did this over the weekend, so i expect to hear back from them sometime this week. in the meantime, i am searching for jobs on my own in places like indeed, jobhat, careerbuilder, etc. as well as checking company websites of places like chain grocery stores to see what is available in my area.

my job pool is a bit limited due to the fact that i cannot drive (due to both my disability and the medication im supposed to be taking for it) but i am very well-versed at taking the bus, which is free. getting to and from work is not a concern for me; it is being able to do the job without being driven to the edge of a mental breakdown that is the problem.

the disability vocational program is my ticket out of poverty! last month i had a follow-up evaluation (i had to call out of work for it, but frankly i was at the end of my rope then too) where they approved my career goals as a web developer and we are in the process of deciding what my next steps are! the program will likely (depending on what route i take) help pay for vocational training, too, but i obviously have to pay rent while in training. which i think i can do if i have a job that doesnt make me want to die.

i have some other things that make my life a bit harder (im mixed race, i am nonbinary + gay, etc) but i would say those things dont really impact my ability to get a job as much as the disability does LOL which is why i did not feature them prominently in this post. like, the reason i cant get a job isnt because people dont want to hire me because i have blue hair and pronouns, its because im obviously disabled.

if you have any other questions, no matter how intrusive you think they might be, feel free to send a DM or an ask, and i will try to answer.

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septembersung · 6 months ago

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The worst part about parenting is the ways it makes me struggle with myself. Growth is hard.

Yesterday I found myself thinking, I don’t enjoy parenting!, and then I thought, That’s not actually true - but this particular issue we’ve been navigating has me on the struggle bus. So I deliberately slowed down and spent quality time with my kids last night, and that helped.

There are times where I get hyper aware of the inner scaffolding that makes motherhood work, and it’s usually times when something needs repair. This week, I desperately need to a) eliminate some stressors, and b) carve out some introvert time. Then I’ll have more bandwidth to… grow. As I have to.

It’s easy to tell when my kids can’t give me their best selves because they’re overstimulated or hungry or tired. So I fix the problem, we try again, and voila! They are capable. How wild to recognize I have to do the same thing for myself. And also that as a grownup sometimes I have to power through anyway and delay the help that would make it easier because that’s just life.

#my life #notes from the motherside #all these text posts are me talking to myself. I can’t paper journal right now so into the void it goes

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writingforfishes · 2 months ago

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The Well Runneth Dry But here's some shit anyway.

Ugh, where is my writing motivation? I must've left it somewhere. Or it's underneath something.

I'm gonna try to drabble cause I just wanna create some shit. This isn't necessarily attached to a big plot plan or timeline, just hiccupy stuff cause my brain was stupid today and I need something to be proud of doing.

CW:

self-pleasure mention (no details)

fast painful powerful hiccups (that are cured in the end)

the image of both of them squeezed into a single person recliner getting themselves off

recliner abuse

hiccups from coffee

Otto is a puppy, honestly

Probably typos and shit

Not literal shit, rather

Wrong kink for that

Atticus feeling guilty about Otto's really bad hiccups

Otto being in pain but also really wanting Atticus to get off in front of him

Sickeningly adorable I hate them

"My eyes are up here"

Hopefully readable dialogue despite the enthusiastic onomatopoeia

Going to bed now but glad I wrote SOMETHING

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Hup!-hup!-hup!-huh!-hmk!-hm!-uck!

They were fast this morning. Rather than coming in clusters, they were just consistently rapid. Otto had just started hiccuping from his morning coffee after several weeks without a peep from his diaphragm.

The clock maker had sat in the old recliner in the living room beside the couch. His coffee was on the side table beside him as he hiccuped in the chair, the back jolting every second with the force the hiccups threw his upper body.

He was able to breath in between them, but not fully. They would pause for a few seconds but as soon as he'd taken a full breath they would charge forward again.

Huuck!-Huup!-hup!-mmmp!-mmmpk!-MMK!-MK!-Hu'uck!

They were getting deeper, too. Stronger. He considered seeing if a shot of apple cider vinegar would help, but he found himself getting a little turned on by the possibility of Atticus coming down the stairs or, perhaps, he could video them.

A yawn took him over suddenly and he covered mouth lazily when a hard, painful HA-AAAWK! burst forth.

"Ow HU'UCK!" he mumbled as he rubbed his chest. Maybe he did need to cure these things, he thought.

But then a creaking weight shifted from upstairs. He kept his mouth open to let the hiccups' sounds carry. He chuckled with the thought that this was like a mating call of sorts. Except without the literalness of mating...or sex as seen by the majority of society, come to think of it.

The creaking and shifting continued, increasing, as Otto faced the stairs in anticipation, hiccups gathering an even more insistence and power.

HU'uck!-hup!hup!-huh!-huh!-huh!-HU'uck!-HU'uck!-HU'UCK!-HUUCK!

Feet pitter pattered down the stairs with a quickness that Otto might be imagining, but Atticus' wild hair and wide eyes staring wordlessly at their husband's jolting body as hiccup after hiccup burst from him made him pretty certain there had been a franticness to get down the stairs.

The writer breathed out slowly.

"Those are really fast," they finally said eyes fixated on the pudge of Otto's stomach in his reclined position shove and pop out, jiggling madly in the white undershirt he wore.

Despite Otto's discomfort from his hiccups, he lifted his shirt a little so his navel was exposed.

"My HUCK! ey-HIC!-es are HU'UP! u-HU'UP!-up he-IP!-re," he said, struggling through the onslaught.

Atticus laughed too loudly at the suddenness and unexpectedness of the joke that had them feeling a hot flush on the back of their neck.

Otto smiled, but Atticus couldn't help but notice the flicker of discomfort in his eyes every time a hiccup shook him. And they were shaking him quite a bit.

"Are...are you okay? Do they hurt?" Atticus asked. They were still standing in front of him.

"A HI'UP! li-IP!-liIP!-ittle. Bu-HU'UUP!-t I HUP! I UP! want t-HNK!-to wat-NNGK!-ch you re-HU'UCK!-react," Otto said.

"You sure?" they asked.

"Ga-HUUUCK!HUP!-uh! Gawd ye-HUUCK! yes!" he said.

Those deep long hiccups made Atticus twitch involuntarily as they watched the tendons in his neck be revealed by how deeply his throat sucked in each time.

"Wuf! Nng...okay. Okay. Yeah," Atty stuttered, squirming. "But if they're still this bad after we're done, we are definitely curing them. Gawd, but they're so fucking hot. You're so fucking hot, man!"

They both mutually pleasured themselves when Atticus squeezed into the recliner beside him. The chair whined quietly as they both added weight and movement to it. The sounds the couple emitted seemed primal as they climaxed, grunts and moans among the violent hiccups.

At their climaxes both Otto and Atticus went limp, panting. After a moment Atticus became more aware of the present and noticed Otto still had the hiccups. Though they didn't seem as deep, they were still coming at a decent clip. The higher octave was indicative that they were probably still a pretty rough ride, as well.

HUP!-HUP!-HU'UP!...UP!...MMP!-HUP!-ILP!-HILP!

"Cure?" Atticus asked, heavy eyelids lifting as their own body jostled in time with his as they were squeezed next to him in the chair.

A flitting face of pain turned to them, wincing with every spasm. Otto sighed tiredly and held a hand over his chest as the hiccups kept thumping inside his ribs and tugging at the intercostal muscles of his back and sides. His sternum was starting to get sore, and his stomach muscles ached a little with each jostle.

He gave his spouse a little nod.

Pushing back his curly hair from his forehead he pushed the footrest down into the chair and both he and Atticus unwedged themselves from the seat never meant to hold two full-grown adults with a humorous stumble.

"How long have you had them?" Atticus asked, trailing behind his twitching back. They put a soft hand to his lower back and gave it a rub for all of the hard work it was putting in.

"Not HU'UP!-uh long. Just HUP!HUP! oh! a UP!-uh! a min-NP!-ute be-HUP!-uh! before y-OOu c-HU'MP!-mm! came d-HA'MP!HA!AK!-down," he said with a hiss of pain as he rubbed his sternum again.

"Ouch," Atticus said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Otto breathed before waiting through another volley of hiccups. "They-HU'UP!-'re re-HUP!-re-UP!-uh! really hu-UP!-rting my HU'UP!HUP!-ugh! chest HU'UUP! chest and st-MP!-stomach. I-UCK!HUP! don't HMP! don't HUP! think I've HULP! h-AP!-ad a HUP! a case thi-HIP!-is bad HUUP! ow! this b-UP!-bad in HUCK! in a UP! while, hon-UCK!-honestly."

"Aw, dude. I'm sorry," Atty said as they watched him pour apple cider vinegar into a drinking glass. "We should've went ahead and cured them..."

But Otto shook his head, "I HU'UP! needed th-HUP!-that, At-NK!-Atty. That was-HUP!-was so-UCK! s-UP!-so hot!"

Atticus gave a shy smile as Otto gulped down the amber liquid.

"Yeah, it kinda was," they admitted.

They both waited after Otto had consumed the vinegar. A few seconds passed with some weak thumps of hiccups jolting him lightly. But they seemed to be fading despite not having been completely irradicated.

"Oh man hmk! I have n--no idea why they hmp! they were so ba-bad!" he finally said as he drew in another deep breath.

"Also..." he trailed off as his mouth stretched open in another yawn. His body jolted as it ended and he shook his head, eyes blinking as if trying to wake back up. "I can't seem to hmp! stop yawning."

"C'mere. Lay on the couch for a bit so I can rub your chest and belly, hm?" Atticus said.

Otto trailed behind them rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand and laid down with his head on their lap as had become their usual position when Atticus gave him care (either after bad hiccups or during a bad time in general).

Otto sighed in comfort as he felt their hands on his body and let himself relax into their body until, yet another yawn stretched out of his mouth and chest.

"Seriously! hm! What is up with these yawn-hmp!-yawns!" he said, squirming a little.

"Well, think about it," Atticus said sensibly. "You've just had your breath violently arrested from taking in a full lungful for a number of minutes, now. Over and over your lungs attempted to breath in fully and over and over your diaphragmic spasms prevented the action. So, I think this is just your body trying to get back into a normal breathing pattern." The writer shrugged. "Makes sense if you think about it."

"Oh," Otto responded, nodding in agreement to the assessment.

"Yeah I now," Atticus said, a little annoyed at themselves, "I think about them way too often."

"Think about what?" Otto teased as his body jerked softly with a silent one.

Atticus smirked shyly and rolled their eyes.

"Um...hiccups," they finally said as they ran their hand down his belly again.

Otto chuckled with a smile.

"I love you, you little freak," he said fondly. He reached his hand up and squeezed their tiny nose between the knuckles of his fingers.

Atticus snorted.

"I love you too, you big weirdo," they said and squeezed his nose back.

"Good morning, by the way," Otto said.

"One of the best ones in a while," Atty agreed. "Thank you."

"Same," he said.

And they were grossly cute forever, the end.

#hiccups kink #hiccup kink #hiccups #minors dni #non kink blogs do not reblog #18+ mdni #otto and atticus #hic fic #hicfic #it was just gonna be a little drabble tho #but here it is #okay i feel better now #yes i gave him terrible hiccups #i figure if i write it into a story it will satiate my brain #there ya go #okay goodnight

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strangerstilinski · 2 years ago

Text

SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter five

fic summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

chapter word count; 7,830

chapter notes; amber forces a reluctant stiles to help her in the fight to keep derek alive after he's attacked by hunters.

masterlist

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c h a p t e r f i v e

magic bullet

Nearly a week passes without incident.

The end of the school day was drawing near and Amber found herself at her normal desk in World History sitting in front of Scott. The whole class was waiting as Mr. Browning dawdled around at his desk before passing out the graded tests they'd taken on Friday afternoon.

Scott was pinned between his friends, sitting in front of Stiles and behind Amber. He was being hounded from both directions with the questions that were eating away at them.

After the ludicrously brief recap Scott had given the two of them at lunch, summarizing the conversation he'd had with Derek several days before, they were desperate to know more. For reasons which remained unknown, Scott had kept the information to himself for nearly six days before he told Stiles and Amber what he knew about the mysterious and powerful Alpha that was desperate to get Scott to be a part of its pack.

"If Derek isn't the Alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who did?" Stiles leaned forward to whisper at the back of Scott's head.

Amber turned around in her seat to be a part of the conversation and rested her arms at the edge of Scott's desk as she peered back at her friends.

"I don't know." Scott answered briskly, avoiding eye contact with Amber even though she was hovering only a few inches away from him.

"So, did the Alpha kill the bus driver?" Amber asked quietly, tapping her pencil rhythmically on Scott's desktop.

"I don't know." Scott mumbled again.

Amber watched Stiles fall back into his seat with an adorable pout. The girl's eyes were drawn to his pursed lips as he drew his eyebrows together in a frown. He paused for a moment in thought before leaning forward again, "Does Allison's dad know about the Alph-"

"I don't know!" Scott shouted at his friends, drawing attention from the rest of their classmates.

The three teens all shied away from the sudden attention and shrunk back slightly in their seats. Mr. Browning raised an eyebrow when he made eye contact with Amber while dropping Stiles' test down onto his desk, continuing forward to pass out Scott and Amber's before moving on.

Amber looked down to her desk and smiled at the little red A at the top of the paper. She turned back around to face her friends and frowned when her eyes caught on the D- that marked the top of Scott's own test. She craned her neck to read the note their teacher had written to accompany the grade.

Not like you! See me after class.

Stiles seemed to do the same and he leaned forward in his seat with a grimace, "Dude, you need to study more."

Scott flipped his test over with a miserable sigh and slapped it facedown on the top of his desk. Amber took pity on him, patting his knuckles while she reached for the paper with her other hand. She flipped it over and skimmed through the incorrect answers to try and pinpoint what her friend was struggling with.

"That was a joke-" Stiles insisted when he noticed how upset his friend was, "Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up." Stiles reassured him, glancing up to where Amber was still skimming through the pages of Scott's test. "Do you want help studying?"

"You should study with Stiles and me," Amber said immediately, "Seriously. We're a force to be reckoned with when it comes to flash cards."

"No," Scott said, pulling his test from Amber's fingers and placing it facedown on his desk again, "I'm studying with Allison after school today."

Stiles raised his eyebrows at the information and grinned, "That's my boy."

"We're just studying." Scott insisted.

"Uh, no you're not." Stiles countered incredulously.

Amber frowned in confusion at Stiles but his attention remained focussed solely on Scott.

"No, I'm not?" Scott repeated in question, finally turning his head to glance at the boy behind him.

"Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you." Stiles pressed, "If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I-I swear to God I'll have you de-balled."

Amber laughed quietly, "What, are you going to castrate yourself, too?" She asked, tucking her pencil behind her ear.

"Huh?" Stiles asked dumbly, finally looking past Scott to catch Amber's eye.

"Well, I mean- We study together all the time, and you've never made a move on me." She pointed out.

Scott coughed quietly to cover a laugh and Stiles spluttered, "Wh- Well, that's different. Right, Scott?" He asked, leaning forward and punching Scott in the shoulder.

"Sure, dude." Scott agreed unconvincingly, "Just- Stop with the questions. All right, guys?"

"Done." Stiles acceded, "No more questions. No more talk about the Alpha or Derek. Especially Derek-" He finished quietly, "Who still scares me."

Amber was still frowning from Stiles' previous comments and she avoided his eyes as she turned to face forward in her seat again. She was aware that Stiles wasn't attracted to her — Of course the two of them were different from Scott going to study with Allison.

The girl felt silly for having attempted to make the joke at all.

She shoved her test into her folder dejectedly and pulled out her notebook, moving to write the date at the top of the page and pausing to frantically search her desk when she couldn't find her pencil. Amber huffed, shuffling her things around in frustration for a minute before Scott leaned forward, gently touching the hair tucked behind her ear. She turned slightly in surprise and deflated when she saw him holding her pencil out over her shoulder.

"Right," Amber sighed quietly, grabbing the pencil from her friend's outstretched hand. "Thanks."

Scott patted her on the shoulder, giving her a soft squeeze in understanding before he retreated. Amber took a deep breath. She seriously needed to get her feelings for Stiles back under control.

The weather was unusually warm for the end of January, even in central California, so Amber had told Stiles earlier in the day that she planned to walk home after school. Having cut out of class a few minutes early to go to her locker and pack up her bookbag, she was pulling it over her shoulder and making her way through the deserted hallways on the main floor when she heard familiar voices talking around the corner. She slowed and waited just out of sight, frowning in confusion when she heard Derek's voice.

"-I asked you politely, and I only do that once." He was saying in a low voice.

"Mm, okay, tough guy," Jackson's voice said smugly, "You know, how about I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him? What is it? Is it, uh, Dianabol? Huh? HGH?"

"Steroids." Derek huffed when he put the pieces together from Jackson's tirade.

Amber thought back to the argument she'd overheard the tail end of between Jackson and Scott in the hallway before tryouts a few weeks before. She was finding it hard to believe that Jackson was this desperate to get some sort of boost for something as simple as high school lacrosse.

She deduced it had to be Scott that they were looking for, but she couldn't imagine why Derek would show up at school in order to find him.

"No, girl scout cookies." Jackson snapped sarcastically, "What the hell do you think I'm talking about? Oh, and uh, by the way, whatever it is you're selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."

There was a moment of silence before Derek spoke quietly, "I'll find him myself."

"No, we're not done here-" Jackson started before there was a loud bang of something slamming against the lockers.

Amber jumped and rounded the corner to see what was going on. Jackson was leaning up against the lockers, breathing heavily and gripping at the back of his neck with a terrified look on his face. They made eye contact for only a moment before Amber rushed past him to where Derek was moving down the hallway.

"Derek! Wait-" She called out, catching up quickly and moving to stand in front of him. He slowed and leaned his weight into a corner wall that was hidden away slightly by another set of lockers. When she saw his face, her heart dropped. Derek's skin was sickly and pale, his face covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look deathly ill. "Jesus, what-" Amber reached up to touch his damp forehead and flinched at the heat radiating off of his skin. She'd never felt a fever running so hot.

"Need to find Scott." Derek said shortly, blinking slowly and swaying on his feet, pressing himself more firmly against the wall.

"Okay, yeah, I-I think he's still here- Can you like, use your wolfy hearing and figure out exactly where he is or something?"

Derek closed his eyes and breathed deeply, furrowing his eyebrows as he focussed. Amber was silent for a long minute as the werewolf listened but the bell signaling the end of the day suddenly rang out loudly directly above their heads. Derek recoiled and scrunched his face up in pain, reaching his hands up to cover his sensitive ears.

Amber winced in sympathy and when the noise ceased, she took his hand, frowning at the dampness that suddenly coated her fingers. She glanced down and found that not only were his hands clammy with sweat, but there was blood dripping down from beneath the sleeve of his jacket and it covered their interlocked hands.

"What-" She started to ask but was interrupted.

"Find. Scott." He said simply, holding her hand tight enough that it hurt for a moment before his grip loosened.

"Okay, okay." Amber acquiesced, quickly pulling him through the growing crowd of students and toward the front entrance.

Derek stumbled when they stepped out into the sunlight, reaching up to block his eyes and nearly tripping over his own feet. Amber repositioned him so that his arm was draped over her shoulder and she gripped his bicep and waist tight as they stumbled down the stairs and toward the parking lot.

Amber looked up from where she'd been watching their feet for tripping hazards and swore under her breath. A familiar blue Jeep was whipping out of a parking spot and began to drive away just as the two were breaching the row of parked cars.

"Stiles!" Amber called out as she dragged Derek out in front of the moving vehicle.

The tires of the Jeep squealed as Stiles slammed on the brakes and Amber couldn't help but flinch. She jostled Derek in the process and sent them both toppling over and crashing to the ground when she refused to let go of him.

The car behind Stiles in line to leave the parking lot began honking their horn loudly and Amber struggled to tug her arm out from underneath Derek's back. When she finally freed herself from beneath his weight, she gripped his upper arms and pulled him to sit upright, settling a hand at the top of his spine between his shoulder blades.

"What the hell?" Scott's voice called out to Stiles through his open window as the tanned boy ran up to the scene.

Stiles and Scott both rushed around the front of the car where Amber was watching Derek's pained breathing worriedly.

"Thanks for not running us over," Amber panted in exhaustion from carrying the werewolf. She looked up at Stiles as Scott dropped to the ground in front of them.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked Derek.

"I was shot." Derek breathed out, brushing Amber's hand off the place where it was resting on his left forearm.

"You were shot?" Amber squeaked, reaching out to his feverish forehead again in a panic. A fever meant an infection, and an infected bullet wound didn't mean anything good.

"He's not looking so good, dudes." Stiles observed slowly.

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked frantically.

"I can't." Derek said, breathing heavily, "It w- It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked with far too much enthusiasm for the situation.

"No, you idiot." Derek glared.

"Hey, you didn't exactly give us notes on werewolf weaknesses-" Amber started before Derek's glare turned on her, "But now's definitely not the time to be thinking about that. Right."

"Wait, wait-" Scott cut in, "That's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours."

"What?" Derek and Amber both said at the same time, "Who- Who said forty-eight hours?" Derek asked breathlessly.

"The one who shot you." Scott replied.

"You knew Derek was shot?!" Amber asked angrily, glaring at her friend.

Derek suddenly gasped and flinched back, blinking his eyes rapidly. Amber's own widened in surprise when she saw his eyes glow a bright, luminescent blue.

"What are you doing?" Scott scolded worriedly, "Stop that!"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you- I can't." Derek hissed, fighting to control his shift.

"Derek, get up!" Scott demanded.

"Yeah, we've been trying that, Scott." Amber snapped, "He's pure muscle and weighs about seventy pounds more than me. So, a little help would be appreciated."

Scott sighed and moved quickly to stand at Derek's back, "Help me put him in the car." He told his friends, putting his hands under the injured boy's arms and beginning to lift him up.

Amber went to Derek's front to steady him once Scott got him to his feet. The two teens moved him toward the passenger side of the vehicle while Stiles hovered close by. Amber climbed across into the center seat and waited as Scott lifted Derek's limp body to fall into the spot beside her.

"I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used." Derek told Scott once the car door was closed.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"She's an Argent- She's with them." Derek told him.

"Why the hell should I help you?" Scott asked angrily.

"Scott, what the hell is your-" Amber scolded, leaning over Derek only to be held back by his arm as he interrupted her.

"Because you need me." He told the boy outside the vehicle.

Stiles finally rounded the Jeep, climbing back behind the wheel and getting the car started again as Scott answered, "Fine. I'll try." He looked across the car toward Stiles, "Hey, get him out of here."

Stiles scrunched his face up in annoyance, his eyes flicking between Amber and Scott, "I hate you both for this- So much." Despite his words, he reached for the gear shift and put the vehicle into drive, stepping on the gas pedal and speeding out of the parking lot.

The three drove in silence for twenty minutes before Amber spoke, turning toward Derek beside her, "So, why do you need Scott to figure out what kind of bullet it was?"

Derek took a deep breath, leaning back against the headrest, "Because I can't heal unless I know exactly what was in it."

Amber nodded, tapping her fingers against her thigh. "Let me call Scott and see if he's found it yet." She clicked on her friend's contact and waited as it rang through to voicemail. "Let me try again," She mumbled, furrowing her eyebrows as she glanced toward where Stiles was driving with a scowl on his face. The phone rang several times again before Scott's voicemail sounded through the speaker.

"Just text him." Stiles suggested, glancing down at the girl beside him and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

Amber did as she was told and sent Scott a text message to ask him if he'd found the bullet. She tapped her phone rhythmically against her thigh as her nerves swelled. Both Derek and Stiles reached out to stop her movements at the same time, Derek's hand landing on her right knee and Stiles' covering her fidgeting hand with his own.

The girl watched in amusement as Stiles glared across the car, flicking Derek's hand away before taking Amber's hand in his own again and muttering something about werewolf paws under his breath. Derek growled quietly but remained otherwise unmoving.

They drove several more minutes in silence before Derek began to shift in his seat, struggling to remove his leather jacket. Amber pulled her left hand free from Stiles and dropped her phone into the seat between them. She reached over to help slide the jacket down over the injured boy's arms, tossing it into the backseat when they had successfully gotten it off.

Derek sighed painfully and leaned back into the seat again as Amber's phone pinged with a text message. The girl jumped as she fumbled for her phone and went to read it.

Need more time.

Stiles read the message over her shoulder and they both sighed in frustration as Amber tucked the phone into her pocket.

"Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there." Stiles sent an annoyed glare at Derek.

"Huh?" Amber questioned, looking up at the boy beside her in confusion.

"Almost where?" Derek asked with his eyes closed, looking as if he were about to fall asleep.

"Your house." Stiles stated as if it should have been obvious.

"What?" Derek finally looked up and opened his eyes, "No, you can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles clarified in disbelief.

"Not when I can't protect myself." Derek explained obviously.

The Jeep suddenly swerved, veering to the side of the road. Amber reached out to steady herself by gripping the knees of the boys on either side of her. Stiles slammed on the breaks and parked the car on the curb, turning the car off before turning to face them.

"What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hm?" Stiles demanded, "Are you dying?"

"Oh, god. Are you dying?" Amber asked again, turning to Derek with wide eyes.

"Not yet," He told them with a shaky breath, "I have a last resort."

"What do you mean!" Stiles shouted in frustration in the small car, "What last resort!"

Instead of answering, Derek slowly pulled up the long sleeve of his shirt and revealed a deep bullet hole in the flesh of his left forearm, still oozing a slow stream of dark blood.

"Jesus." Amber gasped at the wound, reaching out to his arm before she caught herself and dropped her hand into her lap.

"Oh. My. God!" Stiles yelled before gagging, "What is that? Oh, is that contagious?" He asked, flinching away and closing his eyes, "Y'know what? You should probably just get out."

"Stiles." Amber berated, peering closer at the wound and the dark veins that were creeping out along Derek's skin.

"Start the car. Now." Derek ordered.

Stiles scoffed, "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

Amber's head whipped around to scowl at her friend but before she could say anything, Derek spoke.

"Start the car. Or I'll rip your girlfriend's throat out."

"I don't have a girlfriend-" Stiles corrected in confusion.

"I'll rip Amber's throat out." Derek clarified.

"Hey!" Amber cried out in offense, turning to face the werewolf fully and leaning back to press herself up against Stiles' in the tight car.

Stiles ignored Amber and paused. He put a hand on her arm and turned in his seat, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny at the sickly werewolf before responding, "No you won't."

"Fine. I'll rip your throat out." Derek amended darkly, "With my teeth."

Amber turned her head and watched as Stiles' eye twitched before he seemed to decide that Derek would, indeed, be willing to rip his throat out with his teeth. Stiles made a face, releasing Amber before he proceeded to turn the key in the ignition and pull away from the curb.

After several minutes, Amber looked around them and perked up slightly before she spoke, "I spy something dark and depressing."

"Derek." Stiles guessed immediately and without enthusiasm.

Amber narrowed her eyes at her friend until he glanced over at her and saw her glare, "No."

Stiles sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, "I don't know, was it one of the, like, ten abandoned businesses we've driven by?"

"I- Yeah," Amber slumped into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes flicked around the vehicle, "Oh! Okay, I spy something orange."

Stiles' gaze moved to her for only a couple seconds before returning to the road, "It's your nail polish- Which is not orange, by the way."

"It's orange-ish," Amber defended, looking down at the peachy shade of fingernail polish she'd painted over the weekend.

After twenty seconds, Stiles sat up in his seat excitedly, "I spy something-"

"Will you two. Shut. Up." Derek said slowly with a sigh, not bothering to open his eyes or lift his head from where it was resting against the side of the car.

Amber and Stiles both shrunk back into their seats with a sigh. The girl shifted her body until she could comfortably rest her head against Stiles shoulder as he drove without impeding on his ability to reach the gear lever. She quietly alternated between watching the road and watching Stiles' fingers as his hands moved along the steering wheel.

After that, they drove around town in silence for a long while before Amber suddenly had a realization.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news on an already bad day but, uh- We should probably stop driving around downtown where someone could see us."

"I'm no longer a murder suspect." Derek said quietly, eyes closed again as he took deep breaths.

"Oh, no, it's not that- Just, Allison sorta thinks you and I broke up, so if someone were to see you and me and Stiles all piled inside the Jeep-"

Derek's head snapped up with a murderous expression as Stiles spluttered incoherent noises on her other side.

"I'm sorry- Let's back up- Allison thinks you and Derek were dating?" Stiles asked incredulously, a look of dismay on his face.

Amber grimaced, "Well, not dating so much as hooking up-"

"What." Derek spoke darkly.

Amber sighed, bouncing her leg nervously, "It's not as bad as it sounds, I just- After we got the ride home on the full moon, Scott told her the two of you weren't friends, right? And instead of being terrified, she managed to put these puzzle pieces together in her head and she thought that we were hooking up and so I just- I didn't tell her she was wrong?" The expressions on the boy's faces didn't improve and she barreled on, "I told her I wasn't going to see you anymore after that and she just sort of dropped it- So, I figured it would be fine-"

"I changed my mind," Derek said breathlessly, eyes closing again, "I want to rip your throat out too."

"I'm sorry!" Amber wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, "I honestly didn't think it would ever come back to bite me in the ass- Or, in the throat, I guess."

Derek's face twitched in what might've turned into a smile before he schooled his expression again. "Go to the south side of town," Derek commanded quietly, "Warehouse district- Just, avoid any roads near the preserve."

Stiles muttered something about not being a chauffeur but still flicked on his turn signal and took a side street that would lead them south.

"Let me see your arm again," Amber said, pulling her right leg up underneath her and turning to face Derek fully. She took a good look at his face and noticed dark circles beneath his eyes that had emerged at some point in the last hour.

Derek hesitated with a frown before he pulled his sleeve back up and held his arm out toward her. The dark veins that trailed out from the bullet hole seemed to have grown in size where they curled up his forearm.

"Okay, it definitely looks like it's getting worse." Amber announced, brushing her fingers featherlight over the darkening skin around the wound. "We- We should tie it off or something to slow the infection spreading, right? Like a tourniquet?" She asked, looking back and forth between the boys.

"I have no idea what could possibly treat-" Stiles glanced over at the wound again and gagged, "-that."

Derek's only response was a grunt that Amber decided to take as a sound of approval. She leaned over the back of the seat to rifle through the mess behind them and re-emerged with a dirty tshirt that had been in the backseat for an unspecified amount of time.

"Hey! That's my shirt-" Stiles protested.

Amber turned her head with a glare, "Stiles, I swear to God-"

"Uh, I was kidding- It's totally cool- I-I don't like that shirt anyway." Stiles feigned nonchalance, glancing over at them briefly before returning his eyes to the road, "In fact, I hate it. I would like nothing more than to see it covered in- Whatever the hell that is, leaking out of him."

"Great." Amber smiled sarcastically before turning back to the passenger side of the vehicle, "Any chance you can wolf-out and rip this for me with a claw or something?" Amber asked, shying back when Derek gave her an unimpressed look, "No? Okay, that's fine. I can totally rip it myself."

Amber pulled at the fabric at the bottom of the shirt as hard as she could and only succeeded in stretching the material. She went with another approach and bit down on the edge of the fabric between her teeth before tugging, but the cotton remained relatively unharmed.

"Okay, they make this look unrealistically easy in movies." She sighed, flexing her sore jaw and continuing to pull with all her might at the fabric in her hands.

Derek lifted his head and reached across with his right hand to claw a small hole into the fabric before taking a shaky breath and dropping his head back against the metal doorframe.

With the shirt torn, Amber managed to rip a strip away from the bottom easily until she had a long strand of the cloth. Placing it around Derek's forearm just below his elbow, she wrapped it around a couple times. She pulled the fabric as tight as she could manage, apologizing when Derek winced in pain, and tied it off in a knot.

The group continued to loop around through the abandoned roads and alleyways on the southern edge of town. They drove long enough that the evening light gave way to darkness without any sort of update from Scott.

Amber sighed and reached up yet again to place the back of her hand over Derek's sweaty forehead, "You keep getting hotter." Amber pointed out worriedly.

"Figures," Stiles mumbled, "Even on the brink of death he's attractive."

"His fever, Stiles." Amber said in exasperation.

"Oh, right, yeah."

Amber rolled her eyes and settled back into her seat again, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone. The screen was bright against the dimly lit car when she clicked it on and she put the call on speakerphone as it rang through to Scott. It had been hours — He had to have found something by now.

Stiles pulled the Jeep over to a stop at the side of the road and leaned against the driver's side window as the phone rang.

"Yeah?" Scott answered the phone casually.

"Scott, Jesus Christ. What is taking so long?" Amber asked frantically.

"What. Are we supposed to do with him?" Stiles asked their friend loudly, glancing over at Derek who was looking paler than ever.

"Take him somewhere- Anywhere." Scott's voice cut through the phone speaker.

"And, by the way, he's starting to smell." Stiles announced, scrunching up his nose on an inhale.

Derek lifted his gaze to scowl across the car and Amber frowned at her friend's comment, but she couldn't deny that it was true. Even with the windows down, the smell of rotting flesh was starting to spread throughout the confined space.

"Like-like what?" Scott asked in confusion.

Amber took the call off speakerphone and brought the phone up to her ear to speak quietly into the device, "Like death."

Stiles grabbed Amber's hand and moved to hold the phone out between their ears, pressing their heads closer together so they could both hear through the speaker.

"Okay," Scott said after a moment, "Take him to the animal clinic."

"What about your boss?" Amber asked.

"He's gone by now." Scott assured her, "There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster." He told them.

Amber sighed and Stiles blew out a breath, "You're not gonna believe where he's telling us to take you." Stiles told Derek, relinquishing the phone to Amber.

Derek opened his eyes when Amber held out the phone and brought it up to his left ear for him. He took a shaky breath, "Did you find it?"

"How am I supposed to find one bullet?" Amber heard Scott hiss quietly through the phone, "They have a million. This house is like the frickin' Walmart of guns."

"Look," Derek said, "If you don't find it, then I'm dead. Alright?"

Amber gulped, biting down hard on her lower lip as she watched Derek take a few shallow breaths.

"I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing-" Scott muttered down the line and Amber's face pinched tight in anger at her friend.

"Then think about this," Derek cut him off, "The Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So, if you wanna stay alive- You need me." He said slowly between breaths, "Find the bullet."

The call ended abruptly and the car was silent for a moment before Stiles started the engine again and headed in the direction of the Animal Clinic.

When they parked at the clinic, Stiles went ahead of them to search for the key hidden behind the dumpster. Derek threw open the passenger door and tumbled out of the car clumsily, cradling his left arm to his chest. Amber followed after him and hovered at his right side with a hand on his back, leading him toward the metal roll-up door at the back of the building.

Stiles unlocked the latch at the bottom of the door and pushed it upward, revealing the storage room as his phone pinged with an incoming text message.

As soon as they entered the room, Derek threw himself down to sit on a pile of dog food bags. The feverish sweat on his face glistened in the fluorescent lights of the back room and the purple smudges under his eyes appeared darker against the white paleness of his skin.

Stiles pulled out his phone and read the message on the screen before addressing Derek, "Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?" He recited.

"It's a rare strain of wolfsbane," Derek announced with a sigh, "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?" Stiles asked, handing over his phone when Amber reached for it to read the name of the poison written on the screen herself.

"'Cause I'm gonna die without it."

Stiles and Amber both looked up at Derek with wide eyes before glancing at one another. Amber chewed on her lip, handing Stiles' phone back to him and moving to help Derek stand from his makeshift bench. She resumed their position from earlier in the day, throwing Derek's uninjured arm over her shoulder this time and supporting as much of his weight as she could while Stiles unlocked and opened doors for them.

Pushing into the main exam room, Amber stumbled and Derek's free hand reached out to Stiles' shoulder for support as they tumbled through the doorway.

"Okay-" Stiles said, shaking off the werewolf's hand and flicking on the overhead lights.

Derek pulled away from Amber and began peeling his shirt over his head. He swayed over to the metal exam table in the middle of the room and rested his injured arm across the top. It was still bleeding and the dark purplish-black veins trailing from the wound were thicker, but they had only spread a few centimeters past where the tshirt was tied tightly around his arm.

"Y'know, that really doesn't look like something some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles joked nervously from the opposite side of the table.

"Yeah, I'm sure some herbal tea will fix it." Amber said sarcastically, slapping Stiles on the arm when she reached his side.

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." Derek panted, beginning to search around the room for something. He pulled drawer after drawer open and shut in his hunt.

"'Positivity' just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asked, rubbing at his arm where the girl had just hit him.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time- Last resort." Derek said breathlessly, pulling open yet another drawer.

"What kind of last resort?" Amber asked anxiously.

Derek emerged from his search, alarmingly, holding up a small electric saw, "Stiles is gonna cut off my arm."

Amber looked at Stiles in fear and saw the look of dread on the boy's face. She reached out to grip the open end of his plaid shirt in her fist and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

Derek slid the saw across the metal worktop toward Stiles and Amber watched as he picked it up to examine it with a frightened look. The boy pressed the trigger and the saw whirred loudly, causing the two teens to jump.

"Oh my god." Stiles whined, dropping the saw back down onto the table. "What if you bleed to death?" He questioned with wide eyes and Amber nodded in support of the question, also worrying about the possible outcome.

Derek was untying the cloth around his arm, putting one end between his teeth and pulling at the other to get it secured even tighter, "It'll heal if it works," Derek told them around the fabric in his mouth.

Amber's stomach was turning nauseatingly and Stiles sighed, shaking his head in distress, "Ugh," He groaned, "Look, I don't know if I can do this." Stiles admitted weakly, leaning on the table and watching Derek re-secure the tourniquet.

"Why not?" Derek asked in annoyance.

"Well," Stiles started, voice raising in pitch, "Because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!"

Amber fought to keep from gagging at the comment about cutting through bone. Her mind flashed to the image of Laura Hale's body. The way the severed opening had exposed the sliced bones, organs, and muscle inside.

Derek's voice broke her out of her thoughts, "You faint at the sight of blood?" He asked Stiles in disbelief.

"Well, he might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" Amber defended, raising her voice.

"Alright, fine." Derek sighed, "How about this, one of you cuts off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." He finished, shifting his gaze toward Stiles.

"Derek, c'mon-" Amber started before being interrupted by Stiles.

"Okay, y'know what? I am so not buying your threats any-" Stiles gasped when Derek pulled him roughly over the table with a tight grip on the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my god, Derek, I'll do it! Okay, I'll do it-" Amber yelled, rushing around the end of the table and moving to Derek's side to remove his hand from Stiles' shirt.

Derek was breathing hard. His chest heaved with every inhale and Amber gripped his hand where she still held it after pulling him off of Stiles.

"What- What are you doing?" Stiles asked, eyeing the man worriedly.

"Der-" Amber started.

Derek suddenly keeled over and vomited an inky black liquid onto the cement floor, small drops splattering onto the white of Amber's sneakers.

"Holy God!" Stiles gagged, peering down at the bile covering the floor and Amber's shoes. "What the hell is that!"

"Are you okay?" Amber questioned in concern. She gripped Derek's hand tight and watched as he took in gasping breaths where he was still leaning over the side of the table.

"It's my body- Trying to heal itself." Derek panted.

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it-" Stiles announced through a gag.

"Oh, god." Amber gagged as the smell of the black bile reached her nose.

"Now," Derek breathed, glancing up at Amber, "You gotta do it now."

Amber gulped, bouncing on her toes anxiously, "God, okay. Give me a minute-"

"Just do it!" Derek yelled at her, causing the girl to flinch.

"Okay! Okay!" Amber yelled back, grabbing the saw in her shaking hands. She put it against the skin just below the man's elbow with a nervous whine. She felt Stiles move to stand behind her and grab her hips, hiding his face in her hair at the spot between her neck and shoulder.

"Here we go-" Stiles said loudly into her neck, tilting his head up a fraction of an inch to peek through the curtain of her hair.

Amber looked at the way Derek's face pinched in preparation for what was about to happen, his jaw clenched tight. The girl yelled out a loud whine one final time, her finger twitching on the saw's trigger just as she heard Scott's voice calling out from the front of the building.

"Stiles? Amber?"

"Scott?" Amber croaked out in a shaky voice, looking up toward the doorway.

"What the hell are you doing!" Scott yelled from the front of the room as he took stock of the situation.

Amber gasped a relieved breath and dropped the saw from her shaking hands and onto the metal worktop with a loud bang.

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." Stiles informed him, rubbing his hands up the girl's waist and smacking a kiss to the hair at the back of her head.

"Did you get it?" Derek asked from where he was still sprawled across the tabletop.

Scott reached into his pocket and handed Derek a large bullet for a rifle. Derek held it up under the light and looked at it, eyes blinking heavily.

"What are you going to do with it?" Amber asked, leaning closer to examine the ordinary-looking bullet.

"I'm gonna-" Derek started, swaying on his feet, "I'm gonna-"

Derek's legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground, the bullet hitting the floor with an echoing clink.

"No! No, no, no, no-" Scott rushed after the bullet as it rolled away across the floor.

Derek hit the ground on his back and Amber rushed to kneel down beside him. His chest didn't appear to be rising and falling with his breaths and Amber whined in distress. She leaned over his face and placed the shell of her ear to his lips, both feeling and listening for his breathing. After a long moment, no air had exited his mouth to puff against her ear and the girl cried out, interlacing her fingers together and pressing the ball of her hand into the center of his chest to begin compressions.

Stiles immediately kneeled down beside her, "What are you doing?" He asked worriedly.

"I don't think he's breathing," Amber choked out, her eyes heating up with warm tears as she thrust her body weight down onto her hands. She couldn't tear her gaze away from Derek's pale, lifeless face.

"Derek?" Stiles called out to the man uselessly.

After a round of compressions, Amber reached down to tilt Derek's chin up with one hand, plugging his nose with the other before bringing her mouth to his and blowing in two hard breaths. When the werewolf didn't immediately move, she began compressions again, sniffling as she pressed into his chest as hard as she could.

"He's not waking up!" Stiles called out to Scott, reaching out a hand to rest on Amber's lower back as she rhythmically thrust her weight down onto Derek's limp body, "I think he's dead!"

"Just hold on!" Scott yelled back.

Amber leaned down and repeated the next step, bringing their lips together and blowing into Derek's mouth twice. On the second breath, Derek spluttered and coughed, tilting his head to the side to choke on a choppy breath.

"Oh my god." Amber cried in relief, pulling at his naked shoulders to get him sitting upright.

"I got it!" Scott called out from across the room.

Stiles helped Amber pull Derek up from the ground and release him to lean his weight heavily onto the worktop again as Scott handed over the bullet for the second time. Derek clenched the shell casing between his teeth and separated it from the bullet, tapping the shell against the tabletop and pouring out what looked like tiny dried bits of herb.

They all watched as Derek pulled a small lighter out of his pocket and lit bullet's filling with the flame, causing it to spark violently and sizzle for a few seconds before burning out. Derek collected the ash, sweeping it into the palm of his right hand. He clapped his hand over the open bullet wound and groaned. He dug his finger into the small hole to press the ash inside with a pained scream.

Amber flinched and her hands shook, wanting to reach out and help. She watched with wide eyes as Derek continued to yell out in pain, collapsing back onto the floor. The muscles in his body tightened and flexed as he writhed in agony. Amber took a step forward, moving to kneel beside him but Stiles wrapped a hand around her shoulder to stop her, pulling her back against his chest.

Derek's next scream turned into a low animalistic growl partway through as he arched his back in pain. He fell silent after the growl subsided and they all watched as the dark veins receded toward the bullet hole before that slowly healed and disappeared as well.

"That- Was. Awesome!" Stiles yelled from behind Amber, "Yes!"

Derek slowly began to pull himself up onto his feet again and Amber moved toward him freely this time, helping him to his feet. She gripped his arm in her hand as she examined the place where the wound had been a few seconds before.

"It's gone." She whispered, brushing her fingers over the smooth skin.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked in surprise.

"What, except for the agonizing pain?" Derek said while sending a scowl at the boy and gently pulling his arm out of Amber's grip.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles said playfully, flinching back when Derek sent him an unimpressed glare.

"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone! You got that?" Scott suddenly yelled at Derek.

"Scott-" Amber cut in defensively.

Scott continued, loudly speaking over her, "And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

"Oh, you're gonna trust them?" Derek asked, "You think they can help you?"

"Well, why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are!" Scott snapped.

Derek looked between Scott and Stiles in genuine surprise before nodding, "Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are." He told Scott.

Scott seemed to deflate a little, "What d'you mean?" He asked in confusion.

"C'mon," Derek commanded, nodding toward the door and grabbing his shirt from the counter behind him to pull it back on.

Scott and Stiles stormed out of the exam room but Amber hesitated, "Derek, wait-" Amber pleaded with a frown, "You're really just, okay now?"

"I'm fine." Derek agreed, "I'm healed."

"I- Okay," She let out a breath she felt like she'd been holding for hours.

They moved out of the room and toward the back entrance where they'd first come in. When the two reached the rolling door that led outside, Derek reached up a hand and rested it on her shoulder.

"Thank you," He told her quietly, applying pressure as he squeezed her arm.

"I was scared," Amber admitted under her breath in the hopes that her friends wouldn't be able to hear her from where they were standing beside the parked Jeep. Her mind flashed back to the image of Derek's lifeless face as he layed on the cold floor of the exam room.

"I know," Derek said softly, "But you did good."

Amber smiled a small, grateful smile at the man in front of her, flinching when Stiles threw a dark object between them. Derek caught it easily before it could hit him in the face and he fisted the leather jacket in his hands for a second before pulling it on. He turned toward Scott, nodding his head to the side in a signal.

"I'll talk to you guys later on." Scott promised them before turning to leave with Derek.

Amber and Stiles climbed into the Jeep and the girl began to buckle her seatbelt, listening to the sound of keys jingling as the boy went to start the car. Just as she clicked her buckle into place, Stiles' voice suddenly cut through the quiet.

"Y'know, for the record- I don't think you should kiss Derek ever again."

Amber sputtered, "W- Stiles, I didn't kiss him."

Stiles glanced at her with pursed lips as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, "You were lip locking, open-mouthed," He shivered exaggeratedly, "It was kissy-enough."

"I was giving him CPR- He wasn't breathing!" Amber laughed incredulously, turning to lean against the window and face her friend in the dark car.

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles dismissed, "No more of that either, then. Next time Derek stops breathing, just let me punch him in the face or something."

Amber laughed, "In literally what universe would that be helpful?"

Stiles shrugged, "I think it could've worked."

Amber snorted and reached across the car to shove at his face playfully.

"Hey! Hey- No hitting the driver!" Stiles laughed, slapping her arm away, "If I crash this car, you're explaining to my dad that it was all your fault."

Amber rolled her eyes, "Deal." She agreed, tilting her head back to rest sideways against the seat as she watched the calming motions of Stiles driving her home.

"So, what top secret information did Derek want to give you?" Amber asked from where she was dangling off the edge of her mattress. Stiles was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed and her head hung over the side to rest on his shoulder.

Amber eyed Scott's upside-down form where he was still hovering in the doorway to her bedroom.

"Derek thinks the Argents set the fire that killed his family." Scott told them, entering the room to flop on his back on the bed beside Amber.

"Wait- What?" Scrambling to sit up, Amber kicked Scott in the shoulder in her haste before settling on her knees to look at her friend with wide eyes.

Stiles turned to face Scott in intrigue as well, leaning to rest his arms on the mattress, "He said what, now?"

Scott sighed, "He brought me to see his uncle, the one that survived the fire." He explained, eyes glued to the ceiling, "He was awake but like, completely comatose- In a wheelchair and covered in these burn scars-"

"So, he's not a werewolf?" Stiles asked, "He couldn't just heal?"

"He was," Scott corrected, "At least that's what Derek said. I'm not really sure why he couldn't heal, he didn't explain it. Just- Insisted that the Argents were the ones who started the fire."

"Oh my god," Amber mumbled, sitting back on her heels, "That- That's awful. His whole family... Died."

"Derek said some of his family that died in the fire were human, too. That the Argents were trying to kill all the werewolves but they just killed everybody, regardless."

"Well, shit." Stiles said miserably.

"You guys, what am I supposed to do?" Scott asked in a whine, "I really like Allison- And I don't think she knows about any of this- She couldn't."

Amber and Stiles looked at one another with matching frowns. Neither of them had any idea how on earth they were meant to deal with the fact that Allison's family murdered ten innocent people.

#stiles #stilesfic #stiles stilinski x oc #selenophiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #dylan obrien fanfic #dyaln o'brien #1x04 #teen wolf fic #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf season one #*

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pallastrology · 1 year ago

Text

surviving mercury retrograde 🫖

since the often-dreaded transit affectionately known as mercury retrograde is coming up, i thought i’d write a little post talking about how i personally get through it. some of you may know that i’m a virgo rising with mercury retrograde in the first house. so mercury retrograde tends to hit me like a ton of bricks! over the years, i’ve worked on a little survival guide of sorts, and decided to share it in hopes of easing the transit for you a little bit.

firstly: it will pass. mercury rx only lasts about three weeks, which, yeah, feels like a lifetime when it’s not going well. but it does pass, and in the grand scheme of things, three weeks is almost nothing. when you feel like everything’s falling apart at the seams, take a moment to remind yourself that whatever is going on for you won’t last forever, and calmer seas lie just past the storm.

stay on top of your schedule. mercury rx tends to cause problems with communication, travel and timing; plans go awry, time escapes you, the bus doesn’t show up. this is all completely normal, and there are things you can go to mitigate the effects. personally, i make sure to stay more on top of my to-do list than normal, try not to pack too much into a day (because things will inevitably take longer than normal, or i’ll end up sidetracked and having to rewrite my whole week!). leave enough space in your diary to add things on if you need, and then if you have free time, enjoy it! use it to get ahead of the game, or just take a break – we all need and deserve them from time to time. another thing i do is try to prioritise what needs to be done today, and what can wait if i do get overly busy. these are all handy skills to have in general, but when everything goes a little haywire, it really helps to be able to focus on the important things and reorganise the rest without too much stress.

look at your chart. mercury rx will affect us all a little differently, and this is due to where it lands in our chart, and which of our placements it activates. i’ll use a personal example here: for me, it lands in my fourth house – the house of home and family – and will form a conjunction to my natal mercury. disaster, right? well, it doesn’t have to be. at least i’m prepared, and when i’m going through a crisis and feeling overwhelmed, i can take a breath and remind myself this is just part of the transit. i know in advance to really watch my work schedule so as not to overbook myself, stay on top of my workload, and put in 110% to keep things running efficiently while making time for my family and rest. having a sense of why this is happening, and the foresight to be able to plan ahead and feel a little more in control, brings a sense of power over your situation. personal power is so important for your wellbeing, so make the most of the power of foresight here!

add extra travel time. this might sound silly, but the amount of times i’ve been late, or had to massively rush to get somewhere on time, or to get something handed in or completed on time, during mercury rx is shocking! nowadays, as part of my personal survival guide, i make sure to add an extra five minutes to get ready and to get to my location, i check deadlines more carefully and make sure to finish before them in case there are problems, and i’m careful not to go for back-to-back engagements when possible. it’s more for peace of mind than anything, but it definitely seems to help keep life calmer during a hectic time.

communicate clearly. because retrogrades tend to send energy inwards, communication can get tricky. you might find it’s harder to make yourself understood, or you misunderstand others more. old arguments, often over silly things, can pop up like daisies. people from the past can reappear and bring up all sorts of emotions. i would recommend journaling to anyone, but especially if you’re struggling to make sense of your thoughts and feelings, journaling can be an amazing tool to help you reflect and analyse what’s going on for you. i find it really fascinating to read back through old journal entries too, and look at the themes of the transit through my own words. when it comes to communicating with other people, if you’re dealing with professional situations, i would recommend following up communications with an email or letter reiterating your points. this helps keep the record straight and prevent crossed wires later down the line. in your personal life, it can be helpful to remind yourself that the person who is driving you mad right now is someone you love and care about, and you don’t want to hurt them. you can give criticism without being harsh, though it’s more difficult during this transit. take breaks if you need to during arguments, and make sure you’re being clear with what you want. sometimes i find i go round in circles while trying to express something, and my original point gets lost. taking a breather to reassess what you’re trying to say and then coming back to the conversation can be really helpful here.

stay grounded in the present. when any planet goes retrograde, it’s easy to focus on the past. old issues seem to swing back around to meet you in the present, and you may encounter full-circle moments. so when you’re feeling overwhelmed by old arguments, old friends and lovers, and old thoughts, take a moment to ground yourself in the present. you could use mental grounding to affirm where and when you are, or utilise an anchoring object. i have a post that talks about grounding techniques in more detail here which may be helpful if this is something you would be interested in, but essentially, you are helping yourself to emotionally understand where and when you are, as opposed to logically knowing but feeling stuck in the past.

lastly: it might not be all that deep. transits definitely have an affect on our day-to-day lives, i’m not going to dispute that. but perhaps they don’t have as much power as we feel they do. is there a bit of placebo effect that comes into play when we’re running late for work during mercury rx? probably, yeah! our brains are incredibly powerful organs, and our beliefs can hugely impact our perception of, and feelings about, our current situation. if you’re feeling overwhelmed and at the mercy of a transit, it might be time to take a step away from astrology and just let yourself live in the moment. more than anything, we are at the mercy of our own perception, and that’s something that we can work on.

i hope this guide helps you feel a little more prepared, and a little less scared, of mercury retrograde. take care of yourselves readers,

kira xo

#pallastrology #astrology #astrology blog #astrology post #mercury #mercury retrograde #surviving mercury retrograde #mercury rx #transits #retrograde

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kasienda · 10 months ago

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tell us about Adrino fake-dating? 👀👀👀

Adrino lends itself to this trope so well in my opinion in that they are super comfortable in each other's spaces, and Nino is generally on board to do anything and everything to 1) earn Adrien more freedom, and 2) piss off Gabriel.

My personal beef with fake-dating is that it's often written where two characters are already in love and already KNOW they're in love, but are too nervous to say anything yet. And I struggle with the whole thing being able to solved at any point with one conversation. (Though it doesn't stop me from reading or enjoying them. Just makes me want to tear my hair out when reading! Haha!)

BUT! If I'm writing my own, I wanted to explore them both not having feelings yet (or at least not being aware of said feelings), and that they figure it out through the process of pretending! And when it's time for it to end, they both realize they really really don't want it to.

So I started writing one. And I'm not sure if I will every finish or post it because it kinda feels like a generic romantic dramedy to me? I feel like I just am making the dolls kiss! Haha! Like, it's an aged up no-powers AU. I don't usually write things without identity shenanigans! And I don't have anything unique to add to this trope at the moment, BUT I've been having fun with it this week especially since I've been home sick. So maybe!!

...

Here! Take my whole opening scene:

“Tomorrow's photoshoot was rescheduled to Thursday morning, your father canceled dinner tonight, but promises he’ll be available tomorrow—“

Adrien snorted.

“And you’re to escort Lila Rossi to the gala this Saturday as her date.”

Adrien dropped his spoon. “That will not be happening. I will go to the gala, but Lila Rossi will not be my date.”

“Your father agreed to—“

“Any agreements my father made on my behalf are null and void if he didn’t get me to sign the contract.”

One of the benefits of reaching his majority. Now, if only he didn’t need his father to keep paying for university.

“Adrien, I know you don’t like Lila—“

That was an understatement if ever there was one.

“—but your father is not going to take your refusal lightly without any repercussions. Especially if you offer no explanation.”

He had offered an explanation. Lila Rossi was a snake and Adrien knew better than to let her anywhere close to him.

“It’s only one evening,” Nathalie continued.

One evening that would turn into many. But he could read between the lines. Nathalie needed a reason. His father wanted him to date someone now that he was old enough for it to garner media attention instead of generate a scandal.

“You don’t understand, Nathalie. I can’t bring Lila because I already have a date.”

It wasn’t true, but it could be.

Nathalie sighed. “And does this date have a name?”

Adrien contemplated dodging the question. He would have preferred to ask before he dragged any of his friends into the spotlight that might include his father’s ire, but Nathalie would argue on his behalf better if she didn’t think he was lying.

He wished he could ask Kagami, but she and Felix had gone public two months prior. He couldn’t throw Marinette under this bus because her career in fashion was only just beginning and getting tangled with his name would only make things more complicated for her. He was already providing her with all the connections and contacts she would let him, and he didn’t want to bring attention to that special attention by bringing her in as a date. Alya was attending university in the UK, and Luka was on tour with his father in the US.

Which only left him one option anyway. And in many ways it was the best option because Nino was the most willing to do whatever was needed to get Adrien out from under the thumb of his father.

Adrien glanced down into his hands, trying to sell nervousness that he absolutely did not feel. “I can tell you since you’ll know on Saturday anyway, but Nathalie, I’m hoping I can count on you for support.”

She actually looked up from her tablet. A good sign.

“It’s Nino,” he said softly.

“Nino Lahiffe?”

Adrien nodded.

“Doesn’t M. Lahiffe have a girlfriend?”

Adrien shook his head. “Not since Alya left to go abroad. They decided they didn’t want to do a long distance relationship.”

That much was true. The break up had been amicable.

“And how serious is this relationship?”

Fuck. It needed to be serious for Nathalie to pull out all the stops, but how long would Nino put up with the song and dance of it.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I hope we last, but we haven’t been dating that long. So far though, it’s been amazing! Nino and I have always just… clicked, you know?”

“I will do everything in my power to see that you get a fair chance.”

He swallowed at the sincerity in her voice.

“Thank you, Nathalie.”

She nodded and left.

He whipped out his phone and pulled up Nino’s contact. Nino wouldn’t likely be awake for another few hours so Adrien wasn’t going to call him, but Adrien could at least warn him.

…

Nino’s phone buzzed on the table beside his head. Nino groaned and rolled over - away from his phone. He really should have kept up his maman’s policy of charging his phone in the other room.

But an alarm clock was yet another thing Nino really couldn’t afford since he had moved out on his own. He was barely breaking even as it was.

The phone buzzed again and he sighed, fumbling blindly for both it and his glasses.

He blinked dumbly at the text on his screen, and then read it again.

Adrien:

I had to tell my father that we’ve been dating. That we’re going to the gala together this Saturday. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to surprise everyone the day of. Please forgive me. Call me when you’re awake.

The implications were concerning in more than one way.

Nino tapped out a response immediately.

Nino:

there’s nothing to forgive, love. It was bound to happen eventually. I still need help with my suit though if you’ve forgotten. Can we talk in person? I miss you.

Adrien:

I’ll be by in a few hours. Can’t wait to see you. ❤️

Adrien was laying it on thick. Definitely not a good sign.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #adrino #fake dating #fic preview #sneak peek #my own content #wip ask game #ask me anything

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blametheeditor · 10 months ago

Text

Under My Thumb

Prompt Roulette By Title

Everything in Character A's life seems to be going wrong- their car breaks down, rent's increased, they can't even find where they'd place their paycheck for the week. Being Character A's best friend and roommate, it's difficult for Character B to ignore Character A's struggles and worsening mood. Character B might not be able to cure ALL their woes, but head-scratches and words of affirmation are a damn good start

NOT MEANT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Overwhelming thoughts. Mentions of treating others as lesser than.

Sometimes it's a hide under the couch day

______________________________________

Mike found Jeremy under the couch.

Why was he under the couch? Because it was the only safe place to be while everything else was in complete ruins.

It started with it beginning to rain right as Jeremy got off at work. He hadn’t brought an umbrella because there had been promises made it’d be sunny skies, but the bus was supposed to be picking up soon from the stop just down the street. Except it didn’t because it broke down, and another bus wouldn’t come for another hour.

So Jeremy ran home through the pouring rain, thoroughly upset and freezing by the time he got to the apartment. But despite being able to change his clothes into warm and dry ones, a soaked envelope taped to his door said he should open it before anything else. Meaning he was dripping wet and already miserable when he read the rent was getting increased starting next month.

And the worst part? He forgot to change before searching his room high and low for his paycheck he tossed somewhere just yesterday. Which he regrets now because he couldn’t find it anywhere! He’s supposed to put it on the table right next to the door so he doesn’t forget to cash it in. But he was tired, and he brought it into his /bedroom/, and now it’s gone, and his entire floor is covered in water, and the letter is falling apart in his hands!

So that was the last straw. He grabbed the nearest blanket, tossed the letter onto his dresser, and stormed out into the main apartment. Didn’t even check to see if Mike was home as he made his way across the space made for a giant. Plopped himself underneath the cough and wrapped himself up tightly, perfectly content to never leave again.

Because it’s easier to stay under the couch. Not worry about his genuinely terrifying job that doesn’t pay him enough to survive on his own. Never have to face the rain and autumn cold ever again. And here giants can’t step to close or snatch him up.

Technically he wouldn’t need a job if he’s just a pest like David says. Live in a giant’s walls and live off of dropped crumbs like a mouse.

What’s the point of having his own apartment anyway? He can just live with a giant, a pillow could be his whole bed, and not even a full bite of the food they make would be enough for him.

Would that make him a pet, though? Eggs says he acts like a scared animal. He’s always picked up without permission. Maybe he already is a pet and everyone’s just letting him pretend he’s a grown adult who has opinions that matter...

That was when the door opened and Mike walked in, his soft cursing as he wrung his clothes out still able to make the air rumble.

It felt like Jeremy was being mocked all over again. That a giant entering the room was enough to completely interrupt his thoughts. A voice so powerful it could be heard clearly despite murmuring.

He would’ve gone down a familiar rabbit hole after that. Including but not limited to feeling invisible if Mike had gone to his room to change, completely unaware his roommate was in the same room as him.

Which of course he wouldn’t, Jeremy was hidden under the couch. And Mike might be having a bad day as well considering he walked through the rain and also got the increase of rent notice. Maybe he didn’t lose a paycheck, but he might want to just crash in his bed and go to sleep.

Except Mike didn’t go into his room. Jeremy watched the catastrophic shoes walk toward the door to the human side. Slowly walks the same path the significantly smaller had before stopping in front of the couch. Lies on his stomach in order for a blue eye bigger than his head to lock onto him.

Mike hums. “Shitty day?”

Jeremy nods pitifully. Pulls his blanket tighter around him as a shiver runs down his spine, a reminder he’s still soaked to the bone.

“Alright asshole, we’ll take this one goddamn step at a time,” the giants begins as he lifts his hand up to count of his fingers. “We’re getting dry fucking clothes. Then our asses are taking over the couch. Then we watch a shitty movie, or we just go to goddamn sleep. Any questions?”

There’s a part of him that wants to agree to the plan. Finally drying off after who knows how long sounds really nice. And so does falling asleep next to a giant that radiates heat like a living furnace.

...but he can’t. If he comes out from under the couch, then he has to talk about the rent situation. And he’ll have to go inside his room that’s still covered in water and destroyed from the frantic search before. And-!

“Jerber, your ass will get sick if you don’t fucking change,” Mike says. Wisely. Because Jeremy does not want a cold on top of everything. “Come on, asshole.”

He’s stubborn enough to not listen, but he’s miserable enough to give in to the promise of being less miserable. Meaning he carefully stands up before walking toward Mike’s offered hand. Sighs in relief as warmth washes over him.

“Holy shit you’re freezing.”

Jeremy grabs the closest finger as they curl around him to help warm him up quicker. Honestly, he’d be happy just to let Mike hold him. His clothes will get dry in no time, and it wouldn’t be the first time the giant went about his daily tasks one handed.

He’s greatly disappointed when it gently pulls at his grasp at the same time he feels the familiar sensation of a giant lowering their hand to the floor. Sends an unhappy look up at Mike’s smirk.

“Go get fucking changed, Jerber. I need to dry off too.”

The human sighs as he climbs off the hand. Shoos Mike away with a ‘hurry’ because as soon as Jeremy opens his door, he’s already regretting agreeing to the first step of the plan. Forced to face the mess of all his desk drawers flung open, dirty clothes scattered across the floor, his bed even managed to get wet. And in the corner of his eye he spots the paper that might as well be nothing but trash considering it’d be impossible to read now. Meaning they’ll have to read Mike’s letter. Meaning the big red letters will be as tall as him and somehow even more foreboding than before.

What did he come here to do?

Jeremy takes a deep breath before shivering at the AC attempting to freeze him to death. Remembering he’s supposed to dry off and join Mike on the couch. That’s it. One step at a time.

The only problem is Jeremy finishes getting dressed before Mike does. He’s not soaking anymore, instead of the uniform he’s never found incredibly comfortable he’s wearing a soft sweater and pants. But now he’s alone, staring across the vast expanse of the room to the giant bedroom door currently closed.

It’s almost mocking him, saying Mike won’t be coming back out. That the giant fell into bed and went to sleep, trusting Jeremy to then get into his own bed. Because it was a long night for both of them, and decided to crash on what’s meant to be slept on and a hundred times more comfortable than the couch.

And why wouldn’t he? He didn’t make a giant mess of his room like Jeremy did. It’s Jeremy’s fault for ruining a perfectly good bed, and-

The footsteps were completely unnoticed up until they were close enough to make the ground near Jeremy jump, eliciting a squeak right as a hand sweeps him up. Mike then carries him to the couch, the giant lying down with a yawn before grabbing the blanket hanging off the back to toss over them.

Yes, them. It’s tradition Mike has Jeremy tumble onto his chest right as the blanket falls so the human gets caught under the heavy cloth.

“M-M-Mike!”

The giant’s laugh makes an earthquake, leaving Jeremy to curl into a ball so he’s not thrown around too much. “There you go, bastard.”

Mike only gives a wide smile at the glare given that he earned. But at least Jeremy isn’t lost in the blanket anymore. Able to actually see and pull on the material to bundle himself up.

...this is a lot better than being under the couch. Warmer. His friend close. Everything just a little less daunting.

It’s times like these he’s convinced Mike thinks like him. They don’t really talk about it, but the giant’s always there when the world gets a little too overwhelming. Knows all the right things to say and do. It’s nice to have a friend like that, one who has his back.

Literally, too, a hand surrounding him as a thumb rubs his side. Jeremy all to happy to be completely surrounded by warmth.

“So, about the r-r-rent...”

“Nope,” Mike yawns, his arm tugged behind his head as he closes his eyes. “That fucking things for tomorrow.”

“But-!”

Jeremy’s silenced by the thumb covering his entire face. He squirms, yells when the ground beneath him jumps again from Mike’s laughter, shoves the fingers away before they pin him down.

“Sorry. Sleep, asshole.”

...fine. They’ll deal with it tomorrow.

“Th-Th-Thanks, Mike,” Jeremy murmurs as he pulls the blanket closer, falling asleep to soft snores, planning on how he’ll get the giant’s help in fixing his room too.

#I'm blaming this on the Editor as well #they're doing a case study on Jeremy #therefore I was pulled into the case study as well #we might let them win this round though #FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #Prompt Roulette By Title #B3 #BTE writing #cw #content warning

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septembermonologues · 1 year ago

Note

I understand that some may be concerned about orym letting laudna slip into darkness with delilah and telling keyleth about lillianas connection to imogen (which even then, I understood why he did it) but takes like that annoy me because it discredits how good of a conversation that was!!!! keyleth validating oryms anger is good actually imo!!!!! he's lived through weeks of people telling him that these people, who have taken lives for their selfish agendas, may have a point because of their use of the gods as a scapegoat!!!!! it's so powerful to me that his leader, someone he looks up to so much, is on the same page with him, not making him feel like he has to hide his feelings or battle with the anger inside of him!!!!!! it's natural!!!!!!!!! she's putting trust in him, believing he can lead and fight!!!!!!!!!!! he is not acting against his people, he is standing with them as they are with him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am both scared and EXTREMELY EXCITED about where orym is going to go as a character I can't wait for the YouTube vod to come out on Monday and cry over that convo again

i was just hoping that meeting his family and talking to keyleth about it in full might like... be a moment of reflection or contemplation or realization for that crowd but it seems to have made them worse.

i don't want to say it's not possible that he hasn't or won't make some questionable choices but i've been struggling with people who seem to blame him entirely for delilah possibly having more control on laudna, especially after the talk laudna and imogen had last ep! like i feel like they totally ignored it because it would minimize the role they forced orym into taking.

and i'm glad he said something about liliana now because that's a big fucking thing to just be upfront about given their involvement and the current stakes. i don't think it was to throw her under the bus, i think it was a 'there's no point in lying about or hiding this because you can take one look at the two of them and connect the dots'.

they have both lost people they love. they both have to right to be angry and want justice. idk why they can say that for keyleth but not for orym.

#clearly im going to keep talking in circles until im blue in the face but its just confusing and frustrating to me #and i really truly think theyre trying to force him into the 'caleb went dark' shoe they didn't get to debut last campaign #but that's probably its own post.#k watches cr3 #cr spoilers #critical role #bell's hells #orym of the air ashari #orym discourse #<< so you can block the tag if you're sick of me talking about it #i dont blame you

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garnet-cow · 5 days ago

Text

New Staff for the restaurant

( New Tail in town )

MK was laying on his bed with an empty gaze and mind.

A fly pass through his bedroom. It was the only thing moving into the area.

In the silence of his bedroom, he felt like the whole World was at a pause. Everything around him was standing still and quiet.

Somehow kind of relaxing and strange at the same Time. After all the battles he went through a sudden amount of calm was weird. Don't misunderstand it, he wasn't complaining about that, he needed a break. It's Just that …. Yeah, it was kind of weird.

MK eye's wandered around the place to meet the clock on his desk, it was already late in the morning. Almost lunch Time.

Usually he would have been running to his room to be ready to go to work. But it wasn't necessary anymore.

Last week, Pigsy had Just engaged a New kitchen staff in the restaurant. Ordering MK to rest himself. And taking a break on the delivery service for now.

Everybody was exhausted honestly. After everything that happened in their lives, they needed to slow their adventures.

Mei had decided to spend more Time with her parents, connecting with her History and ancestors.

Tang stopped his research and all mythology passion to learn a Little bit more about relaxation and meditation. Using some of his time to go for some walks on parks and nature too, to ease his mind.

Pigsy and Sandy had meditation and relaxation sessions with Tang too.

Pigsy started a correspondence with Chang'e, texting about cook and other funny things that most of the time only them could understand.

And about the Monkie Mens well… It was kind of complex.

They definitely needed a rest too. But they weren't used to it because of their immortal life, they had learned that there was always something to do even when silence was the only thing you could hear. And rest was only for a time before action and thunder will come back.

Wukong was trying to move away the thoughts in his head. Every day he had those images of everybody endangered and him incapable to protect them. He struggled with guilt for everything his apprentice went through because of him. For the danger he put all the crew in. For the scar on his Friend eyes. For the blow, his heart felt when he sees that same old friend.

From the way he was incapable of speaking his though correctly. He was the Monkie king, great sage equal to heaven. Capable of breaking a mountain in a glimpse, and raise and army with one arm. No force could freak him out. He was immortal, even death couldn't make him bow. A power far beyond every hand.

He didn't fear the idea of fighting.

Meanwhile, Feelings were something way more mortal and hard to deal with.

Regarding Macaque, he tried to occupy his mind with his shadow play, some training and you know… Just living his little hidden life in that big town. Making some appearance on flower fruit mountain, to ease his mind, when the town's sound became too strong and unpleasant.

The truth was, he wanted to speak his though too, but he didn't know how, when and why. Everything in his heart was too complicated.

And he kind, lost hope of telling all that his heart contained out of spite.

Just like in the past.

MK sigh, rubbing his eyes. Boredom was killing him right now. He didn't have any idea of what to do. And it wasn't really his fault by the way, he never really had a time in his life where everything was suspended. He had passed a big amount of time working for Pigsy, going to school, spending time with Mei etc…

That empty break was new.

He look again at the clock. 42 sec had just passed….

WHY WAS TIME SO SLOW TODAY !!!!

He whine, unhappy, kicking his legs in the air, upset. Almost feeling jealous at the idea of the new staff pigsy had just engaged.

flashback -

"WHAT ???!!!" The boy loud scream's run in the restaurant, causing Tang and Pigsy to cover their ears and shut their eyes.

"Mk, for gods sake, don't scream like that." Hiss the Demon Pig, rubbing his aching pink ears.

"Bu-bu-but …." Ramble Mk, his jaw on the floor, astonished by the news. His dad really fired him, after all these times he treated him. "You're replacing me ?" He ask, tears in his big black eyes, feeling completely betrayed.

"What ?! Of course not ! I'm just hiring another worker in the shop to give ya some vacations."

"Yeah, that's the exact same thing." Replied Mk, wiping his tears away.

"No it's not. I just want some help with the restaurant. That new staff is here temporary, for the holiday rushes." Explain Pigsy.

"And how do you know that new stuff is not another disguised enemy that has some Machiavelic plans to get us or kill the whole city!!!" Marvel the son, agitating his arms in the air.

"I'm kind on Mk side for this one Pigsy, I think you engaged her quite quickly. How do you know she's not dangerous ?" Interfere Tang for the first time in the conversation.

"Her ?" Ask Mk.

The two adults didn't give a dare at their kids question, looking seriously at each other.

"You were there Tang, she really don't seem like a menace to us."

"She's a Monkie demon Pigsy!" Raise Tang "Goodness, every time we had crossed a path with one of these creatures it didn't end well." It was clear that he was unhappy with the decision his husband had made.

Pigsy's eyebrows frowns more at those words, his mate wasn't wrong. Trusting a stranger so easily wasn't the smartest thing he had done. Honestly, he had had a good vibe when he spoke to that lady. She was polite, with proper ways, experiences in restoration, a great curriculum vitae, knowledge on cooking and also spoke several languages. It was kind of the perfect personn for the job.

Plus Pigsy was desperate to find a new employee. It's been weeks since the employment offer was put on the shop wall, and nobody had proposed themselves. The restaurant was now known for its easy agitation. And for its shelter of powerful and dangerous creatures. Most people came just to eat and enjoy the setting. Hopefully, the fame of delicious noodles was strong enough to keep people coming.

That demon pig desperately wanted some holidays, for himself and his husband.

"She's a what ?!"

-end flashback -

Mk eyes open wide at the memory of his own scream and that sentence.

Wait

Wait….

A monkie demon ?

A lady monkie demon ?!

The delivery boy suddenly jump from his bed, running in his room to dress himself and put on his shoes before rushing outside to the restaurant.

Hurtling down the stairs, bursting in the restaurant. People were already in there, Mk excuse himself for the ground while scanning the room, reaching the seat where Tang was.

"Mister Tang, where is the new worker ?!" He yap.

"Well, first Hello Mk, I'm glad to see your enjoyment and second Pigsy and-"

"Ah Mk you're here. Did ya had a great sleep ?" Pigsy's head appears out of the kitchen, cutting Tang's words, smiling at his son and mate.

"Pigsy ! Where is the new staff ?!" Ask Mk completely excited, no longer holding it. His head was fuming at the idea of meeting a new Monkie demon.

"The new staff ? Ya don't have a new staff as I remember."

"What ? No ! The employee !"

"Oh right, I must introduce you to her." Said Pigsy, turning himself. "Hey ! My son is here, You can come meet him." He let out to the kitchen where that mysterious demon was. Mk advance to the room, curious and impatient.

"Sure. I'm happy to meet him." A female yet mature voice replied.

While exiting from the place a female demon with long yellow mane appear. She had black hair tips, a big tuft of bright hair on her left side, roundish ears and a red earring under the right one. Her face had a dark grey mask and a pair of cornflower blue eyes with white pupils. The mask was adorned with a monkey nose and some white freckles that could remind of constellation in a certain way. She was cleaning a bowl with a dish towel, her sleeves rolled up along her arms. She had a calm stand.

The young boy froze at the lady's appearance and the fact that he was closer than he thought he would be, jumping widely back next to Tang.

The lady looks at him, a little bit surprise by his action, but she didn't seem to take it badly and pose the bowl on the counter.

"So you must be Mk, right ?"

Her stare was soft, somehow sweet, the fringe on her front covering her dark eyebrows. MK quicly assumed that based on her voice, appearance, and demeanor, she was probably in her 30s or 40s. She was taller than Mei, but smaller than the Monkie King and Macaque.

"Yeah, that's me. Mk." He answered not really confident.

She smile and lend her hand to him. Mk shot an eye to that hand, it was claw-free, unlike Macaque's one.

"Enchanted. I'm Li Wei."

Her name was current and ordinary, nor fancy or monster titles. The boy breathe quietly, to gain such calm, carefully mimicking her gestures, shaking his hands, feeling slightly stressed and anxious at the sight of a new monkey demon.

"Hello. I guess"

While reaching their hands the monkey lady easily felt the tension of the boy just with the touch of his wrist. He was clearly uncomfortable. She looks at him, his eyes were firm and wavy at the same time. Of course she didn't know why he had that attitude towards her, but she supposed that her demonic appearance might have destabilized him. Maybe he wasn't a fan of monkeys. Which was curious since his father tells her that he was a fan of the legendary monkey king.

Or maybe it was something else.

Which was none of her business of course, just she was a little bit sorry for the old teen in front of her. Perhaps his study stressed him out ?

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr Pigsy has spoken a bit about you to me. You were the delivery boy of the shop if I'm not mistaken."

Mk were staring at Li Wei's face and body. Concidering the things she had in common with his mentors. Just like them, she had sideburn, pads on her paws and when she opened up her mouth he could see a pair of upper sharpy fangs.

It was funny how much of her features were similar and different at the same time compared to his mentors one. Like her white and blue eyes or the shape of her mask, or even just her mane that looked more colorful and roughly.

"Hum… Yeah, yeah I am the delivery boy of Pigsy's noodles. That's right." He speaks seconds later.

He continues to scan the lady when a movement behind her catch his attention. Waving in her back a long yellow tail appears. It was larger than Macaque or Monkie king's one. The end of the tail had the form of a messy star with orange shade in the center.

Seeing the boy emphasis, Li Wei raise an eyebrow. His roving eyes started to make herself feel a little bit uncomfortable too.

"I'm sorry, I kind of steal your job apparently ?" She ask, trying to understand if that topic was the reason he was so… strange. While being polite of course.

Mk went out of his focus and came back to reality. His gaze met hers, and he felt a quiet curiosity about her question and her attitude towards him. She really didn't seem like a threat at first.

"Yeah, well I was kind of forced to leave to take some vacations." He send a pointy look at the pig demon behind, who avoid the gaze preparing some noodles in the backward. " But I guess that's okay."

The ring of the door tinkles, announcing news customers in the restaurant. Li Wei turn her head and start walking to them, taking a menu at the same occasion.

"Well, I hope you have happy vacations then, I'm sorry I gotta go back to work. I was very pleased to meet you."

The monkie lady wave a hand to the boy before greatting the clients and taking care of them, her tail swinging in her back.

Mk look at the scene, near Mr Tang. He felt a little bit more relaxed than before. It was clear that Miss Li Wei was a kind-looking, polite, and helpful woman at first sight. As he becomes more calm, he realizes that she made him feel more at ease by asking questions and not highlighting his incorrect attitude during their conversation.

And still he wasn't confident on that Monkie demon.

He had met too many strange folks recently to put his guard down.

-------

Alright, I hope you liked that written part, I'm not really sure about my skills in writing in English since it's not my first language so don't hesitate if some parts are kind of blury or unclear.

Might change some parts of it in the future

( just to warn you it's gonna be a Sun Wukong x Macaque x OC ( Li Wei ) story + New mentor for Mk and Mei + OC lore etc.... )

Previous part

#lego monkie kid #lmk #li wei the long tailed shepherd #monkie kid oc #new tail in town #lego monkie kid oc #Sun Wukong x Macaque x oc #english is not my first language #monkie kid #Lego monkie kid mk

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