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muiitoloko · 6 months ago

Note

Halo! sorry if I bother you, I just want to know if the Eli X daughter reader has a part 3? because first and second parts already broke me and now I want to know what happened to the reader and Eli also I'm really angry with Barkley 😭

If there is a part 3, take your time ok! Bye bye!

Title: Unspoken Words.

Summary: Many things remain unsaid in your new reality.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson & Daughter! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Envy and secrets.

Author's Notes: Hey there! No bother at all, I’m always happy to chat! 😄 As for Eli X daughter reader, a part 3 is definitely on the horizon. I know Barkley is the worst, right? He’s making everyone’s blood boil! 😭 So stay tuned—I promise more drama and hopefully some resolution are coming your way soon! Thanks for your enthusiasm! 🌟

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

You looked out the window, observing the landscape outside the school windows. It had been a week since you had returned to school, a week of receiving pitying looks as you feared. Confined to a chair, unable to play or even write like the rest of the class, Eli and Sarah had hired a teacher and caregiver who would take care of you at school and help you with your studies. She practically did everything for you while you just talked, unable to move your limbs. You hated it. You hated all of it. You didn't want to go back to school, being isolated and watching others run and play while you were alone, with Barkley teasing you. It was all so stressful.

The teacher then announced that there would be a new student in the class and that everyone should welcome him. You watched as a short, hazel-eyed, blond boy carrying a backpack introduced himself to the class, looking quite cheerful and dorky.

"Hi everyone, my name is Sinclair Bryant, but you can all call me Clair," he said with a bright smile. "I just moved here from London, and I love reading comic books, playing video games, and collecting action figures. Oh, and my favorite superhero is Spider-Man because he's super cool and always saves the day!"

He continued to chatter excitedly, sharing more about his hobbies and interests. "I also love science, especially chemistry! My dad used to take me to science museums all the time. And did I mention I have a pet lizard named Spike? He's awesome!"

The teacher had to interrupt him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Sinclair. We're happy to have you here. Everyone, please make Clair feel welcome."

As Sinclair took his seat, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy and sadness. Here was someone who seemed so full of life and excitement, while you felt trapped in your own body, burdened by your condition.

During recess, you watched as Sinclair made his way over to a group of kids, striking up conversations and making friends with ease. He seemed to fit in so naturally, his laughter and enthusiasm infectious. You sighed, turning your gaze back to the window, feeling a sense of isolation wash over you.

That comic event had ruined everything. If only the Spider-Man statue hadn't fallen on you, you wouldn't be quadriplegic. You hated the convention, the statue, and the superhero himself for bringing you to this point.

Your caregiver, Mrs. Watson, gently tried to coax you into eating your snack. "Come on, [Your Name], you need to eat something," she urged softly, holding out a piece of fruit.

You turned your head away, refusing to open your mouth. "I'm not hungry," you muttered, your voice tinged with frustration.

Mrs. Watson sighed, a look of concern crossing her face. "I'll go get a bottle of water. I'll be right back, okay?" she said, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before walking away.

You ignored her, continuing to gaze out the window, lost in your thoughts. Moments later, Sinclair Bryant, the new boy, approached you with a curious look in his hazel eyes.

"Hey there," Sinclair began, his voice bright and cheerful. "Why aren't you eating your snack? I would never waste food!"

You turned to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed completely oblivious to your mood as he continued to babble on about food. "I love snacks. My favorite is chocolate chip cookies. What's yours?" he asked, shifting topics so quickly it made your head spin.

The bitterness in your heart grew, and you looked away, not wanting to engage. But Sinclair's next question caught you off guard.

"Do you like Spider-Man?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

"I don't," you replied bitterly, your voice cold. "I hate him."

But Sinclair didn't seem to hear the disdain in your tone. Instead, his gaze shifted to your electric wheelchair, his curiosity piqued. "Whoa, that's a cool wheelchair!" he exclaimed, leaning in closer to get a better look. "How does it work?"

His enthusiasm and ignorance about your pain only made you feel worse. Here was this boy, full of life and curiosity, unable to understand the weight of your suffering. "It's not a toy," you snapped, your voice laced with anger. "I need it because I can't move."

Sinclair's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a determined look in his eyes. "Well, it must be really handy to get around in," he said, trying to find a positive spin. "I bet you can go super fast in it!"

You glared at him, wishing he would just go away. But Sinclair's relentless optimism made it clear he wasn't leaving anytime soon. "I know it must be tough," he said more softly, his tone surprisingly earnest. "But if you ever want to talk about comic books or anything, I'm here."

You stared at him, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. There was something genuine in his eyes that made you pause. Despite your bitterness, you couldn't help but feel a tiny flicker of warmth at his words. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone would treat you with pity or scorn.

After a moment of awkward silence, Sinclair walked away, his curiosity still lingering. As he returned to the group of new classmates, he couldn't help but glance back at you, seeing the sadness in your eyes as you stared out the window.

"Hey, who is she?" He asked one of the boys, nodding in your direction.

The boy, eager to share the latest gossip, leaned in and whispered, "That's [Your Name] Michaelson. She's Barkley's twin sister."

Another girl chimed in, her voice tinged with pity, "Yeah, she's crippled. My mom said it's the worst thing that could happen to someone, not being able to move."

The kids continued to gossip, their voices low but filled with speculation and sympathy. Sinclair, however, tuned them out. His eyes were fixed on you, observing the way the sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on your hair and making your eyes shine. In that moment, he thought you looked beautiful, despite the sadness etched into your features.

Sinclair made up his mind right then and there. He decided he was going to be your friend, no matter what. You needed someone who didn't see you as a burden or an object of pity, and Sinclair felt he could be that person.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of recess, Sinclair approached you once more. This time, he wore a determined expression. "Hey, [Your Name]," he said softly, his voice gentle and sincere. "I know things are tough right now, but if you ever want to talk about comic books, or just anything, I'm here. And... I think Spider-Man is pretty cool, but maybe we can find another hero that you like."

You didn't respond, but Sinclair wasn't deterred. He gave you a small, encouraging smile before heading back to class, already planning ways to make you smile. He was determined to break through the walls you had built around yourself and show you that you didn't have to face this new reality alone.

As the school day ended, you navigated your electric wheelchair toward the exit, Mrs. Watson walking alongside you. The routine was familiar by now, but it didn't make it any easier. You were already dreading the evening ahead, knowing it would be another night of frustration and resentment.

Just as you reached the school entrance, you heard a voice calling out, "Hey, wait up!" You turned slightly, recognizing Sinclair Bryant running toward you, his backpack bouncing on his back. Mrs. Watson paused, giving Sinclair a polite smile as he approached.

"Hello, Mrs. Watson," Sinclair greeted warmly before turning his attention to you. "Hey, [Your Name]. I wanted to ask you something."

You looked at him with a mix of curiosity and irritation. "What do you want, Bryant?" you asked, your tone clipped.

Sinclair's smile didn't falter. "I was wondering if you wanted to be friends with me. I think we could have a lot of fun together."

You felt a surge of bitterness well up inside you. "No," you replied flatly, already starting to move your wheelchair again.

But Sinclair wasn't easily deterred. He trotted alongside you, talking a mile a minute. "Oh, come on, being friends with me has lots of perks! I love comic books, so we could talk about our favorite heroes. And I have a pet lizard named Spike, who's really cool. Plus, my dad takes me to science museums all the time, and I could tell you all about the stuff I see there. And I'm really good at video games, so I could teach you some tricks!"

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how his enthusiasm never wavered. He genuinely seemed to enjoy talking, filling every silence with his animated chatter. Despite yourself, you found a tiny part of you appreciating his persistence, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"We're friends now, you know," Sinclair insisted, a confident grin spreading across his face. "Whether you like it or not, I'm going to be around."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help a small smile from tugging at your lips. Sinclair's energy was infectious, even if you weren't ready to admit it.

As you reached the school entrance, Sinclair suddenly stopped talking. His eyes lit up as he spotted someone waiting for him – a well-dressed man standing beside a sleek car. "There's my butler!" Sinclair exclaimed happily. He turned back to you, his smile even brighter. "See you tomorrow, pretty girl!" With that, he dashed off, his backpack swinging wildly behind him.

Mrs. Watson looked down at you with a soft smile. "He seems like a good boy, [Your Name]. Full of energy and kindness."

You huffed irritably, turning your gaze away. "He's just feeling sorry for me," you muttered, unwilling to acknowledge the warmth Sinclair's words had stirred within you.

As you and Mrs. Watson made your way to your own car, you couldn't help but replay Sinclair's words in your mind. Maybe, just maybe, his offer of friendship wasn't solely out of pity. But for now, you weren't ready to let your guard down. The walls around your heart remained firmly in place, even as a small crack of hope began to form

Meanwhile, on the way home, Sinclair chatted animatedly with his butler, James, who was driving the sleek car through the busy streets.

"So, Master Clair, how was your first day at the new school?" James asked, glancing at Sinclair through the rearview mirror.

Sinclair's cheerful demeanor dimmed slightly. "It was okay, I guess. I don't like it that we're always moving around. It's hard to make new friends when you're constantly changing schools."

James nodded understandingly. "I know it's tough, Master Clair. But your father did say this would be the last time, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did," Sinclair replied with a sigh. "I hope he means it this time."

"Did you make any new friends today?" James inquired, trying to lift Sinclair's spirits.

Sinclair's face brightened again. "Yes, I did! I made a few friends, and there's this one girl... she's really pretty. We're friends now."

James smiled knowingly, catching Sinclair's excitement in the rearview mirror. "Oh, really? What's her name?"

"[Your Name]," Sinclair said with a big grin. "But... there's something different about her. She's in a wheelchair."

James's expression softened as he continued to drive. "Is she now? That must be challenging for her."

Sinclair nodded, his enthusiasm undiminished. "Yeah, I heard some kids saying she's... quadriplegic," he said, stumbling slightly over the word.

James glanced back at Sinclair, his curiosity piqued. "Quadriplegic, you say? Do you know what that means, Master Sinclair?"

Sinclair shook his head, looking a bit puzzled. "Not really. What does it mean, James?"

James took a moment to think, choosing his words carefully. "Well, Sinclair, being quadriplegic means that she can't move her arms or legs. It's usually due to a serious injury to her spinal cord. It can make life very difficult, but it doesn't change who she is as a person."

Sinclair's eyes widened with a mix of understanding and sadness. "Oh, that's really tough. No wonder she seemed so sad. But I still want to be her friend. Maybe I can help her feel better."

James smiled warmly at Sinclair's determination. "That's a wonderful attitude to have, Master Sinclair. I'm sure she could use a friend like you. Just remember to be kind and patient. Sometimes people need a little extra time to open up when they're going through something difficult."

Sinclair nodded earnestly. "I will, James. I promise. I want her to know that she's not alone and that she can still have fun and be happy."

As they continued their journey home, Sinclair's mind was filled with thoughts of how he could be a good friend to you, determined to bring some joy and comfort into your life despite the challenges you faced

Meanwhile, at your own home, Eli welcomed you and Barkley, saying goodbye to Mrs. Watson as she left for the day. He greeted you both warmly, his eyes filled with concern as he asked about your school day. Barkley eagerly began to recount his adventures, his voice full of excitement, but you remained silent, ignoring your father and avoiding his gaze.

"Go wash your hands, Barkley," Eli instructed, his tone gentle but firm. Barkley obeyed quickly, running up the stairs to his bedroom. Meanwhile, you pressed the button on your wheelchair and navigated through the house to your bedroom, which was now separate from your brother's. Since Barkley's bedroom was upstairs and you couldn't go there alone, your new room was downstairs, converted from Eli's old office.

Eli followed you into your bedroom, his expression filled with a mix of determination and sadness. He knelt beside your wheelchair, helping you take off your sneakers with practiced care. "Mrs. Watson told me you didn't want to eat again today," he said softly, his voice tinged with worry.

You remained silent, staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. Eli's heart ached at your stubborn refusal to engage with him. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his frustration in check. "Sweetheart, I know this is hard for you," he continued, his voice gentle but firm. "But you need to eat to stay strong. We want to help you, but we can't do that if you don't take care of yourself."

You turned your head away, the silence between you stretching uncomfortably. Eli reached out to gently touch your shoulder, his fingers trembling slightly. "Please, [Your Name]," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Talk to me. Let me help you."

But you remained resolute, your eyes fixed on the wall as you shut him out. Eli sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his own helplessness. He stood up slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of how to break through the barrier you had built around yourself.

"I'll be right back with dinner," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and sadness. "I hope you'll join us at the table."

As Eli left your room, his heart heavy with the pain of your silence, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and regret. He vowed to find a way to reach you, to show you that you were not alone in this struggle. But for now, all he could do was hope that one day, you would let him back into your world.

Eli moved to the kitchen, his mind a whirlwind of emotions as he prepared dinner for the children. The familiar tasks of washing vegetables, boiling water, and setting the table offered a brief respite from the turmoil in his heart. He meticulously prepared each dish, making sure everything was just right. Barkley, already seated at the table, was eagerly flipping through his comic book, his excitement bubbling over as he waited for Eli to join him.

Eli placed Barkley's plate in front of him and forced a smile. "Here you go, champ," he said, his voice warm despite his inner turmoil. Barkley looked up, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"Dad, can I tell you about this cool comic I read today?" Barkley asked, his voice brimming with excitement. "It's about a hero who—"

"Sure, buddy," Eli interrupted, nodding as he set the table. "I'd love to hear about it."

Though Eli didn't understand the appeal of superheroes, he was grateful for the distraction Barkley provided. He listened intently, trying to keep up with the details, even if they felt foreign to him. The animated way Barkley described the hero's adventures was a stark contrast to the heavy silence that often surrounded his interactions with you.

As he finished setting the table, Eli called you to dinner. The soft hum of your electric wheelchair grew louder as you navigated into the dining room. The sound was a constant reminder of the changes in your life, a reminder that cut through Eli every time he heard it.

You approached the table, and Eli quickly moved to help you get settled. He placed your plate in front of you and took his seat next to you, ready to assist with feeding you. Your eyes, still avoiding his, were focused on your plate.

Eli hesitated, his heart aching as he watched you struggle with your emotions. "Mom's working late tonight," he said gently, anticipating your question. "She’ll be home later."

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his answer but remaining silent. Eli’s heart clenched at your reticence. He knew that mealtime was often a battleground, a time when your frustration and resentment surfaced most strongly.

Across the table, Barkley continued to chatter enthusiastically about his comic book, oblivious to the tension between you and Eli. "And then the hero used his super strength to lift this huge truck! It was so cool!"

Eli forced a smile, trying to engage with Barkley's excitement. "That does sound pretty amazing, Barkley," he said, though his attention kept drifting back to you. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness as he watched you silently chew your food, refusing to meet his gaze.

Desperate to include you in the conversation, Eli tried to bridge the gap. "So, [Your Name], anything interesting happen at school today?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and anxiety.

You remained silent, your expression closed off. Eli's smile faltered, his frustration mounting. He didn’t want to push you, but the constant silence was wearing on him. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged softly. "You can tell me anything."

Your jaw tightened, a flicker of anger passing over your face. You looked up briefly, your eyes meeting Eli's with a mixture of defiance and hurt. "Nothing happened," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just leave me alone."

Eli's heart sank, a wave of frustration crashing over him. He clenched his fists under the table, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "I'm just trying to help," he said, his voice strained. "I want to know what's going on in your life."

You turned your head away, refusing to engage. The silence stretched painfully, the tension thickening in the air. Eli's frustration simmered beneath the surface as he attempted to focus on feeding you. The silence between you grew heavier with each passing moment, making the simple act of eating feel like an insurmountable task.

Barkley, sensing the tension but too caught up in his excitement to fully grasp its gravity, interrupted eagerly. "Dad, there's a new kid in our class!" he announced, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "His name is Sinclair Bryant, and he's really cool. He likes comics too, and guess what? His favorite hero is—"

"Enough, Barkley!" Eli snapped, his voice sharp and cutting off his son mid-sentence. Barkley recoiled slightly, confusion and hurt flickering across his face. Eli immediately regretted his harsh tone but couldn't bring himself to apologize. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Let's not talk about heroes right now, okay? Let's just focus on dinner."

Barkley nodded reluctantly, his excitement dimming as he returned to his meal. Eli turned his attention back to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and frustration. He carefully scooped up a spoonful of food, bringing it to your lips. "Come on, sweetheart," he urged softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "You need to eat something."

You turned your head away, your expression hardening. "I'm not hungry," you muttered, your voice barely audible. The defiance in your tone only fueled Eli's growing frustration.

Eli's patience, already frayed, snapped under the weight of your rejection. He grabbed your chin firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced you to look at him. His eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You will eat," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I’m tired of this. I’ve tried to be patient, but I can't take it anymore. I won't let you destroy yourself. You’ll eat, even if I have to shove the food down your throat."

Your eyes widened in shock and fear, tears spilling over as you struggled to free your chin from his grip. "I hate you!" you cried, your voice breaking with emotion. "I hate you, Daddy!"

Eli's heart clenched painfully at your words, but he didn't release his hold. His grip tightened slightly, his frustration and helplessness boiling over. "Hate me all you want," he snapped, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "But I won't let you waste away. You need to eat, and you will eat."

The tears streamed down your cheeks as you continued to struggle, your small body shaking with sobs. The sight of your distress cut Eli deeply, but he forced himself to hold firm. He knew he had to be strong, even if it meant being the villain in your eyes.

"Please, sweetheart," Eli murmured, his voice softening slightly as he tried to rein in his anger. "I just want to help you. I don't want to see you suffer like this."

You continued to cry, your sobs echoing through the room as you finally stopped struggling, defeated by your own helplessness. Eli's grip on your chin loosened, and he carefully brought the spoon to your lips once more.

"Open your mouth," he instructed gently, his voice strained with emotion. "Please, just a little bit. For me."

With tears still streaming down your face, you reluctantly opened your mouth, allowing him to feed you. Eli's heart ached with a mixture of relief and sorrow as you finally took a bite, your small frame trembling with the effort.

Eli continued to feed you in silence, his own tears threatening to spill over as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each bite felt like a victory tinged with defeat, a painful reminder of the gulf that had grown between you.

Across the table, Barkley watched in silence, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion. The usually lively dinner table had become a battleground, and the weight of the unspoken tensions hung heavily in the air.

As Eli finished feeding you, he set the spoon down with a shaky hand, his heart heavy with the weight of your words. He reached out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch tender despite the turmoil in his heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I just... I can't stand to see you like this."

You turned your head away, the pain and anger still etched into your features. Eli's heart ached with the realization that his attempts to help had only driven a deeper wedge between you. As he sat back in his chair, the silence between you stretched unbearably, a chasm of pain and regret that seemed impossible to bridge.

In that moment, Eli felt the full weight of his failure as a father, his heart breaking under the strain of your suffering. He had wanted to protect you, to shield you from the harsh realities of the world, but in his desperation, he had only succeeded in pushing you further away.

As the darkness of the evening settled around them, Eli could only hope that someday, somehow, he would find a way to reach you, to heal the wounds that had been inflicted by the cruel hand of fate. But for now, all he could do was hold on to the fragile thread of hope that bound you together, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

Later that evening, the house was cloaked in the quiet calm that settled after dinner. Eli carefully navigated you from the living room to your bedroom, your electric wheelchair gliding smoothly across the polished floors. The day had taken its toll, and you were visibly weary. He gently helped you into bed, tucking the blankets around you with a tenderness that belied the day's frustrations.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Eli whispered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and sorrow as he kissed your forehead.

You stared at the ceiling, your eyes betraying the turmoil within, but you didn't respond. Eli sighed softly, standing up and turning off the light, casting the room into a soft, comforting darkness.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Barkley was engrossed in his video game, his small hands deftly maneuvering the controller as he battled digital foes on the screen. The flashing lights and triumphant music filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy silence in your bedroom.

Eli moved to the kitchen, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He started washing the dishes, the rhythmic sound of water and clinking cutlery providing a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

"Dad!" Barkley's voice called out from the living room, his tone eager and filled with anticipation. "Come play video games with me!"

Eli paused, his hands submerged in soapy water. He glanced toward the living room, feeling a pang of guilt at Barkley's request. "I don’t know how to play those games, Barkley," Eli called back, his voice tired but gentle.

Barkley’s face scrunched in disappointment as he peeked into the kitchen. "I can teach you, Dad. It’s really fun. Just give it a try."

Eli shook his head, his focus returning to the dishes. "Not tonight, Barkley. We can play something else later, okay?"

A frown creased Barkley's face, and he grumbled under his breath, his frustration bubbling over. "You'd play with me if I were the cripple."

Eli froze, his hands stilling in the sudsy water. The air seemed to crackle with tension as he slowly turned to face Barkley, his eyes wide with shock and anger. "What did you just say?" Eli's voice was low, trembling with restrained fury.

Barkley met his father's gaze defiantly, his small chin jutting out in stubborn resolve. "You always pay more attention to [Your Name]. Never to me. If I were the cripple, you'd play with me. But you don't care about me."

Eli's hands trembled as he set the dish aside, drying them hastily on a towel. He moved towards Barkley, his heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "How dare you talk like that, Barkley?" Eli demanded, his voice a harsh whisper as he knelt to look his son in the eye. "Do you understand how hurtful that is? Your sister is going through something terrible, and she needs us."

Barkley's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his lips trembling as he tried to hold onto his defiance. "She’s always getting all the attention. I can run, I can play, but nobody cares about that! I hate her! I wish she would just go away!"

Eli felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him. His heart ached at Barkley's words, the raw emotion in his son's voice cutting through him like a knife. "Barkley," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, "I know this is hard for you too. But wishing harm on your sister isn’t the answer. You have to understand, we love you both."

But Barkley's resentment only seemed to deepen. "You don’t get it, Dad. She takes everything! You never have time for me anymore. I wish she would die!"

Eli recoiled as if struck, his breath catching in his throat. The words echoed painfully in the quiet kitchen, hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "Enough!" Eli's voice broke, a mixture of anger and heartbreak etched into every syllable. "Go to your room. Now."

Barkley’s face crumpled, but he held his ground for a moment, his eyes flashing with a final spark of defiance. Then, with a choked sob, he turned and ran upstairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Eli stood frozen in the kitchen, his mind reeling with the weight of Barkley’s words. The dishes lay forgotten in the sink, the water growing cold as Eli grappled with the bitter reality of his son's resentment. The enormity of the situation pressed down on him, threatening to crush the fragile hope he clung to so desperately.

As the house settled into an uneasy silence, Eli's thoughts turned to you, lying alone in your room, and to Barkley, wrestling with his own tumultuous emotions upstairs. The fragile balance of their family had been shattered, and Eli could only wonder how they would ever find a way to heal the wounds that had torn them apart.

Sarah arrived home later that evening, her expression tense and her movements restless. Eli wasted no time in approaching her, his face etched with the weight of the day’s turmoil. He saw the briefcase she carried, a constant reminder of the hours she spent at work, and the exhaustion in her eyes mirrored his own.

"Sarah, did you find out anything?" Eli asked urgently, his voice filled with the desperate need for answers. He grasped her arm lightly, searching her face for any hint of hope. "Can we sue the organizers? They need to be held accountable for what happened to [Your Name]."

Sarah’s eyes darted away, and she hesitated, wringing her hands nervously. The soft light of the hallway cast long shadows across her face, accentuating her unease. She took a deep breath, her shoulders tense as she met Eli's gaze.

"Eli," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I went to the convention center today. I spoke with their security team and asked to see the footage from the cameras." She paused, her eyes flickering with an emotion Eli couldn't quite place.

"And?" Eli pressed, his anxiety mounting as he watched her closely. "What did you find out? Can we hold them responsible for what happened to our daughter?"

Sarah swallowed hard, her hands twisting the strap of her purse. She took a step back, her eyes clouded with a mysterious, almost evasive look. "It’s not what we thought," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "The footage... it shows that [Your Name] caused the accident herself."

Eli's breath caught in his throat, and he stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice rising with a mix of anger and confusion. "How could she cause her own accident? She’s just a child!"

Sarah flinched at his tone, her fingers tightening around the purse strap. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke. "She was playing around the Spider-Man statue," she explained, her voice strained. "The footage shows her climbing on it, trying to... I don’t know, maybe get a better look or something. It wasn’t stable, and it fell."

Eli felt the ground shift beneath him, his mind reeling with the implications of her words. "No," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "That can’t be right. [Your Name] wouldn’t do something like that. She’s careful, always has been."

"I know," Sarah said, her voice cracking with emotion. "But that’s what the footage shows, Eli. I watched it multiple times. It was an accident, but it was... it was her own doing." Her hands trembled, and she glanced around the room as if searching for something to ground her.

Eli staggered back, his legs threatening to give way as the weight of the revelation crushed him. He sank into a nearby chair, his head in his hands as he tried to process the news. The image of his daughter, broken and confined to a wheelchair, flashed before his eyes, and he felt a wave of grief and guilt wash over him.

"No," he murmured, his voice barely audible as he struggled to contain his tears. "I can’t believe this. It can’t be true."

Sarah approached him cautiously, her movements slow and deliberate. She reached out to touch his shoulder, her fingers cold against his skin. "I’m so sorry, Eli," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet sorrow. "I know how hard this is to hear. But there’s no one to sue, no one to blame. It was just a terrible accident."

Eli looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and anguish. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, strangled by the knot of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Sarah’s gaze was steady, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something Eli couldn’t quite identify.

"Why are you so nervous, Sarah?" he asked finally, his voice trembling with suspicion. "You’re not telling me everything, are you?"

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced away, her hands twisting in her lap. "I’m just... I’m worried about [Your Name]," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "This whole situation is tearing us apart, and I don’t know how to fix it."

Eli watched her closely, his mind racing with a thousand unanswered questions. He wanted to believe her, to find solace in her words, but a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. There was something in her demeanor that didn’t quite add up, a shadow of unease that lingered just beneath the surface.

But Eli shook his head, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall the events of that day. “No, Sarah,” he said, his voice firm despite the tremor of doubt creeping in. “I remember clearly. She wasn’t climbing anything. She was sitting on the ground, playing with her Doctor Octopus doll. I had just left the diner and saw it happen. The statue fell on her while she was sitting on the floor, not climbing the statue.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of panic flashing across her features before she quickly masked it. Her hands twisted the strap of her purse more tightly, her knuckles white. “Eli, you were so shaken that day,” she insisted, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. “You don’t know what you were thinking. It was chaotic and traumatic. Maybe you just misremembered.”

Eli ran a hand through his hair, his confusion deepening as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory. “I saw it, Sarah,” he repeated, his voice growing more uncertain. “I saw the statue fall on her. I don’t remember much else, just the pain and the sight of her bruised and broken...”

He trailed off, his eyes searching Sarah’s face for any sign of reassurance. But instead of comfort, he found only a deepening sense of unease. Sarah’s evasiveness, her refusal to meet his gaze, only heightened his suspicion that there was more to the story than she was letting on.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape. “Eli, I know you’re struggling with this,” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mysterious, almost desperate urgency. “But you have to trust me. I watched the footage myself. There’s no one else to blame. It was just a tragic accident.”

Eli felt a cold knot of doubt twist in his stomach. His own memories were hazy, clouded by the overwhelming shock and grief of that day. He remembered the statue falling, the sickening thud as it struck you, and the sight of your small, bruised body beneath the wreckage. But beyond that, everything was a blur of pain and confusion.

He looked at Sarah, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read the expression on her face. “Why are you so nervous, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and probing. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Sarah’s eyes flickered with a momentary flash of guilt, but she quickly averted her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m just worried about [Your Name],” she repeated, her voice trembling slightly. “This whole situation is tearing us apart, Eli. We need to focus on helping her, not on dredging up painful memories.”

Eli clenched his fists, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He wanted to believe Sarah, to trust that she was telling him the truth. But the nagging doubt in the back of his mind refused to be silenced. Something about her demeanor, the way she avoided his gaze, made him question everything he thought he knew.

“I’m going to get some air,” Eli muttered, his voice tight with frustration as he turned away from Sarah and headed for the door. “I need to clear my head.”

As he stepped outside, the cool evening air washed over him, providing a brief respite from the turmoil churning inside him. He leaned against the railing, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting memories and emotions. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something crucial he was missing, some piece of the puzzle that had yet to fall into place.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Sarah sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she clutched her purse. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with the fear that Eli was getting too close to the truth. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself as she tried to think of a way to keep her secrets hidden.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Barkley stood at the top of the stairs, his small frame hidden in the shadows as he listened to their conversation. His eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and guilt, his heart pounding as he replayed the events of that fateful day in his mind.

He had been jealous, consumed by the belief that you always stole Eli’s attention. In a fit of anger and resentment, he had pushed the Spider-Man statue, not realizing the terrible consequences his actions would have. And now, as he watched his parents struggle with their own confusion and grief, Barkley’s guilt gnawed at him, a silent, unbearable weight he carried alone.

As Eli stood outside, lost in thought, and Sarah grappled with her own fears inside, Barkley retreated to his room, his mind swirling with the realization that the truth he held could shatter their family even further. And in the quiet darkness of the house, the weight of that secret hung heavy, casting a long shadow over them all.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #eli michaelson x reader #eli michaelson #nobel son

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uramilf · 1 year ago

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Mutual Attraction - Part One

University chemistry professor!Matty x reader

A/N: As a triple science student I feel partially qualified to write this lol

Warnings: No smut in this part but mentions of sex, there will be smut in later parts, age gap relationship, teacher/student relationship, making out, mentions of weed and alcohol, smoking

Y/N Y/L/N stepped into the lecture hall with shaking hands. Usually on first days at school, there was at least the comforting thought that it was everyone else’s first day too, but this wasn’t the case. A burst water pipe in her student housing meant that Y/N was late to move in, therefore late to start university. She considered herself to be late already, after having four years of work and travel after leaving secondary school. Now, at 22 years old, she felt ready to start her new chapter. Her eyes fell upon him immediately as he sat at his desk typing an email. His dark curls were streaked with grey, a thin layer of stubble growing on his sculpted jawline. He was wearing clear-rimmed glasses that gave him a knowing and mature charm, which was lessened slightly by the boyish smile he gave Y/N as she approached his desk. “Excuse me, sir. Are you professor Matthew Healy?” she asked. “Yes, but please, all my students call me Matty. Professor makes me sound old,” he grimaced. Y/N laughed politely and introduced herself. Matty noticed that she was a pretty girl, with kind eyes and a beautiful smile. He tried not to think too much about it, mind returning to the matter at hand. “Ah, yes! I got an email this morning to say you��d be joining us slightly late. I hope the problem with your housing was fixed?” “Yep, I’m all moved in now. Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to check I was in the right room.” “No worries, Y/N. Take a seat anywhere you like, I hope you enjoy your first class with us.”

As Y/N neared the back of the lecture hall, she met the gazes of a few of other students who had arrived even earlier than her. A group of them waved her over. There were three of them sitting together: Rhys, who was a tall athletic boy with wavy blonde hair and deep green eyes who was studying chemistry to one day develop his own brand of protein powder. His friends back home in Wales called him ridiculous, but agreed he was going rather far to achieve his goals, so supported him in his business venture. Orla, who had moved from Cork to London and was studying to be a medicinal chemist. Her parents were extremely proud of her choice of career, but hadn’t seen her in person in a few months. She wasn’t worried about this as it had given her plenty of time to dye her hair blue, get a collection of tattoos littered around her hips and lower back, and venture into her favourite form of medicine (marijuana, which she liked to pretend was to help with her joint pain). And Jasmine, an African American girl from New York City whose real future plans involved becoming a music producer, but didn’t have the heart to tell her parents, after her outstanding performance in chemistry throughout high school won her a scholarship to the very course she was currently sitting in.

It was Jasmine who noticed Y/N first and, ever the social butterfly, called her to sit with them. “Hey! You’ve not been here the whole time, have you?” “No, I’m just starting today.” “Ok thank God, I’d never forgive myself if I hadn’t noticed you.” Y/N laughed. Rhys stood up to allow Y/N into their row of seats, shaking her hand as she passed. “Sorry for Jasmine,” he grinned. “She feels the need to know everything about everyone.” “Do not!” “You absolutely do!” Orla started to introduce herself as her friends bickered. “Yes, Jasmine is nosy as fuck, but Rhys and I are glad to have her. She’s the reason we’ve all made friends so quickly, her being the biggest extrovert ever and all that.” Y/N chatted to the trio as she fired up her laptop and others filtered into the class. She felt more comfortable seeing that the lecture hall was full of people of all ages, some older than her. Rhys was in his early twenties too, and she agreed with being thankful for Jasmine that she was making some friends who knew what it was like to start uni a bit later.

Matty stood up and started to speak, going through his powerpoint about redox reactions and reducing agents. Y/N was mesmerised by him; the way he paced as he taught, the way he scattered silly jokes throughout his lecture, the way he pointed to the screen as he made a point. The lecture flew by and before she knew it, Y/N’s new friends were begging her to join them for a coffee in the students hub across the road. “Maybe I’ll pop in later, but right now I have to speak to Matty.” Rhys, Orla and Jasmine left the hall, and Y/N overheard Orla say, “Fuck but he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Y/N couldn’t help but agree, and took a deep breath to steady herself before approaching Matty’s desk once again. “Miss Y/L/N! I hope you enjoyed your first lecture with me?” “Oh, absolutely! I’ve been looking forward to getting started.” “I’m so glad to hear it, sweetheart. Is there anything I can help you with?” “Actually, yes. I haven’t had a chance to pick up a textbook yet, and I was wondering if you know of anywhere I could look for a second hand one.” Matty thought for a moment, before shrugging. “You know what, darling, I’ll only be teaching out of this one for a month or so. It’s sort of the beginner book to recap A-Level topics. I have a spare one at home. If you’ll come in a little early next lesson I’ll give it to you.” “Really? That’s so kind of you.” “Absolutely, love. Let’s say you come in about half an hour early next time and we’ll go over what you’ve missed, yeah?” Y/N was ecstatic that Matty had asked her to come early to talk to him. Sure, it was a catch-up session, but still. She left feeling like a giggly schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher, trying to justify her thoughts by telling herself they were both adults, and there was nothing wrong with how she felt. Matty himself hadn’t missed the glimmer in her eyes while they spoke. He had been trying not to let himself get distracted by the soft curve of her breasts, or the way her hips moved as she walked away. She was gorgeous up close, and the more he thought on it after she had left the more he had to try to keep himself grounded. “She’s a student, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t be a dick.”

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Y/N was back in her flat staring at Matthew Healy’s facebook profile like an obsessive teenager, heat rushing to her face when she saw the word ‘single’ in his info. She scrolled through his posts for a minute or two, smiling at videos of him dancing with his mates on nights out and holiday photos where he was grinning with a drink in his hand. That smile. Ugh.

----------------------------

Unaware of Y/N’s light social media stalking, Matty was sipping on a pint with his best mate George in a quiet beer garden near his house, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. The September breeze moved his curls gently against his forehead as George spoke, but Matty wasn’t really listening, “All I’m saying is that you should try and get yourself back out there. You haven’t even been on a single date in forever.” “Actually, I met a girl today and I think we really hit it off,” Matty blurted out without thinking, just to get his friend off his back. Fuck. “Weren’t you at work all day? Better not be a student, Matthew,” George teased. “What?” Matty snapped his head up to look at George. “Calm down mate, it was just a joke.” “Oh. Right. Um, no, I met her in a coffee shop this afternoon. I don’t know, it probably won’t come to anything, but I’m gonna see her again soon.”

The minute his front door closed, Matty groaned into his hands. Why couldn’t he ever keep his mouth shut? Now George thought he had a girlfriend, and would no doubt want to meet her. There was no way he could tell George that this mystery girl didn’t exist, and the one he had met was really a new student in his chemistry lectures. This was a fucking disaster.

---------------------------

Three days later, on Thursday morning, Y/N made her way into Matty’s usual lecture hall 30 minutes early. He was waiting for her, sitting at his desk. He had moved another chair to a space right beside his, gesturing for Y/N to take a seat. His cheeks went slightly pink when he handed her a cup of coffee, saying “I thought you might want this, what with it being so early and all.” “That’s so thoughtful, Matty. How much do I owe you?” “Oh, nothing, please. My treat.” Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, but what she didn’t know was that Matty’s was doing the same. He started to talk her through what she had missed in the first week, stammering slightly when their hands brushed as he turned a page in the textbook. Y/N tried, but she couldn’t look at the book as he spoke. She looked in his eyes instead. She could see the whole world in them. She had noticed as she had been getting to know him that they were some of the most beautiful eyes she had seen in a long time.

Before long their time was up and other students were filtering into the classroom, including Jasmine, Rhys and Orla. Matty started to wrap up his summary, not before exclaiming, “Oh for God’s sake, I’ve left that spare textbook in the car. I’ll get it after class, ok?” He tried to convince himself he hadn’t done it on purpose to talk to her again, but he just couldn’t.

Jasmine was enjoying a brief interrogation regarding Y/N and Matty’s conversation. “You’re telling me he just asked you to come in here and talk to him for a whole half hour? Fuck, why didn’t I start a week late?” “Stop that Jas, you’re nineteen! You��re much too young for him. And so is Y/N,” Rhys scolded. “Are you serious? Y/N is the perfect age to have a scandalous little romance with him.” “She is not, that would be irresponsible and ridiculous. She doesn’t like him anyway, do you Y/N?” “Go suck off your personal trainer, Rhys,” Orla jumped in, feeling as though Rhys was being a little protective over Y/N, although they barely knew each other. “Actually Y/N, Rhys poses a valid question. What’s your opinion on the absolute sexiest lecturer I’ve ever laid eyes on?” Jasmine prompted. “Oh, y’know, just that I might be in love with him.” Jasmine cackled at the look on Rhys’s face and replied “That’s my girl.”

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When the hour-long class was over, Y/N once again allowed the rest of the students to leave before meeting Matty at the front of the room. “Let’s go get you that book, sweetheart. Couldn’t have such an excellent student failing now, could we?” The pair walked out of the building together, Matty digging in his coat pocket for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. “Do you mind if I smoke?” “Not if you give me one.” “I couldn’t possibly condone that, darling,” he smirked. “I’ll give you a drag of this one if you promise not to tell.” He lit the cigarette and took a few deep drags before handing it off to Y/N. He watched her pouty lips as she exhaled the thick smoke, trying not to imagine what it would be like the kiss them right then and there. He took the cig back and inhaled again, throwing it on the ground and extinguishing it with his heel as they reached his car. He unlocked it and grabbed the book from the back, handing it to Y/N. The second their fingers brushed against each other, the light spits of rain that had been building all morning turned into a torrential downpour. Matty and Y/N looked at each other and laughed for a moment, at the awfully cliche ‘caught in the rain’ scenario, until Matty realised they were both soaked to the skin and ushered Y/N into the car. “Shit, where did that rain even come from?” Matty laughed. “Where’s your flat? I’ll take you home.” Y/N froze. Matty was offering her a lift home? Fuck, she was never getting over her stupid crush on her teacher now. “Y/N? Do you not want a lift home? I can drop you at the tube station or something, I understand if you’re not comfortable with me taking you home.” “No! It’s totally fine! I really appreciate it. I live on Elmwood Avenue.”

When Matty arrived outside Y/N’s building, he parked the car and they sat there for a moment or two, trying to think of something to say. She could feel him looking at her, and she thought he was probably just waiting for her to get out of the car. “Well, thanks again, I should probably g-” Matty cut her off by crashing his lips against hers. She just sat there, not quite knowing what to do. She wanted to kiss him back, she knew she did, but she was frozen. He pulled away, embarrassed. “Jesus, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I never should have-” It was her turn to cut him off now by placing a hand over his mouth and giggling. “Don’t you dare be sorry,” she whispered, before pulling him closer by his black tie and pressing her mouth to his again. Y/N could feel Matty smile into the kiss as she tangled her fingers through his dark brown curls with one hand. The other hand cupped his stubble-covered jaw as their lips moved together. One of his hands was clutching at her waist and rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb, the other brushing her hair out of her face. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she let out a quiet moan, making him laugh. Their tongues fought for dominance for a few minutes until Matty broke the kiss briefly to grab Y/N’s waist and tug her over the centre console to straddle him. He kissed her again as he gripped onto her hips, both her hands gripping his face now. After a few more minutes of kissing him, Y/N pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I really do have to go now,” she laughed, stroking the side of his face lightly. Matty melted into her touch and dropped his head down to place a trail of kisses to her jawline and neck. Y/N groaned quietly. “Stop, Matty, you’re making it so hard for me to leave right now.” “Don’t leave, stay with me.” Y/N rolled her eyes and climbed off his lap, opening the car door and stepping out. “I’ll see you in class, then,” Matty sighed.

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Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. “I’ll see you in class, then.” It made her feel dirty, and sneaky, but in the best way. She wondered how long she could keep her own scandal quiet. Sure, she would’ve loved to tell Jasmine, but Jas would never keep her mouth shut and she wasn’t sure if Matty would get in trouble if people found out. Y/N knew there were no laws against university professors and students having relationships, as long as the student was of age, of course. Which she was. But a part of her couldn’t help but feel that she was putting Matty in danger. Maybe she would’ve been better off staying away from him.

Back in his own house, Matty was drunkenly pacing the floor, freaking out. One part of him was thrilled that Y/N seemed to share his feelings, and the other knew that if he didn’t tell his boss about their interaction, he could lose his job. And although it was allowed, she was twelve years younger than him, and he knew their relationship would be frowned upon by many of his co-workers and other students. Well, maybe not so many students. Matty wasn’t stupid, he knew he was quite a hit with many people in his chemistry lectures, girls and boys alike. But either way, it would be hard for him and Y/N to be together. She would have to switch classes, and he wouldn’t be able to see her pretty face staring up at him during lectures, mesmerised by his voice. Matty’s heart sank. He had gotten what he wanted, but was it worth it?

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A week later, Y/N’s chemistry class had gathered in Matty’s lecture hall once again. As they were split up into groups to work on a project, she had to fight the urge to not tell her friends about what had happened in Matty’s car. He was much the same, trying his best not to let it slip to George, although he so wanted his friends to know about the amazing, beautiful girl he had met. Y/N told her friends once again that she needed to stay behind and talk to Matty. Rhys raised an eyebrow and Orla and Jasmine nudged each other. “What now?” Y/N snapped. “You’re spending an awful lot of time in here ‘catching up’. Aren’t you all caught up by now?” “Oh, em, yeah, of course. It’s not about that. It’s just about the project.” “Well, is it anything we could help with?” Rhys asked, clearly trying to prevent further interactions with Matty. “Oh, leave her alone Rhys! If the poor girl fancies Matty, just let her speak to him. We all have our little teacher crushes, right Jas?” Orla shot back. “Whatever,” Rhys muttered and stood up, grabbing his bag and storming out the door. “Jesus Christ, someone’s got a mard on,” Orla said, rolling her eyes. “Ignore him, he’s just being a dick because he doesn’t understand the Lana Del Rey-esque attraction we have to older men.” We laughed until we reached the front of the room, and the two girls left me to chat to Matty alone.

“Hey, darling, you ok?” Matty smiled softly. “Yeah. I just thought we should talk.” “You’re right, we should. The truth is, love, I don’t think we should take this any further.” He watched Y/N’s eyes widen, giving her a pained expression. It hurt him too to turn down a girl so perfect, but he knew what he had to do. “Look, Y/N. I like you. I really do. From the moment you walked in here, I knew it. You are beautiful. You’re kind and smart and you make me laugh. You’re perfect, love.” “So why don’t you want me?” Y/N asked in a small voice. “I do darling, I promise. But you shouldn’t want me. Having a relationship with someone older than you, especially one of your lecturers, will not make university an easy experience for you. Other teachers might start to treat you differently. You would have to move classes, and everyone would know why. Your peers might look down on you. I don’t want any of those things for you, my beautiful girl. You deserve more than me.” Y/N’s heart was sinking. He had to be wrong. She needed him. She needed him to forget the consequences and just love her like she wanted him to. A tear slipped down her cheek and Matty wiped it away. “Don’t cry, love. I’m sorry. But if we start a relationship with each other, the only law is that I have to tell my boss. And that will only create problems for both of us.” Y/N lifted her head to look at the man in front of her, his glasses slightly askew, hair a mess from how many times he had run his hands through it during his little speech to her. God, she needed him.

“So don’t tell him then.”

Matty looked at Y/N and saw the lust and the neediness in her eyes. He grabbed her by the hand, convinced that he could feel her blood pulsing through her body when they touched. He pulled her into his small store at the back of the hall and pushed her up against the wall. Much like the week before, his hands roughly grabbed at her hips as he connected their lips. His tongue was immediately brushing against hers, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip every so often. This kiss was more passionate, more desperate than the one in the car. Matty broke the kiss to bend down slightly and pick Y/N up, her legs tightening around his waist as they kissed again. One hand stayed on her ass, supporting her weight, while the other roamed up and down her back. Both of hers were caught in his hair again. She tugged gently on his hair, forcing a soft moan to leave his lips, which she eagerly swallowed the sound of. Their kissing grew messy, both desperate for each other. But they knew they couldn’t have each other- not there. Matty pulled away and lowered Y/N to her feet. Their lips were swollen and glistening with wetness, and Matty’s eyes appeared to have darkened so much that his irises were nearly black. He devoured the sight of Y/N in front of him, wishing he had the guts to take her right then and there. But he couldn’t. It was irresponsible, basically asking to be caught. Plus, he would make their first time special.

Y/N checked the time on her phone and groaned. “Shit, I’ve missed the tube! I’m gonna have to run if I want to catch another one.” “Don’t be silly, I’ll take you home.” “But you did that yesterday. It’s a twenty-five minute drive with the lunch hour traffic.” “Shh darling, anything for my girl.”

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A/N: Yay part one done! That was fun to write, let me know what you think!

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty #adam hann #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 smut

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dreamyfanfix · 2 years ago

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Chapter 3: Unsettling

Previously on the Bachelor. The contestants were separated into two teams of eleven and had to put on a play. Things got heated with group A as Claudia and Maria got came to blows. [insert clip of Claudia and Maria fighting over who should be the lead of their play. The group voted for Maria after her plea of having stage experience as a singer]. In the end, it was Maria's inability to remember lines that lasted longer than 3 minutes that gave group B their edge (with Anthony's brother Benedict here to judge) and it was group B that won the outing with The Bachelor, Anthony [insert clip of group B being announced the winners and some members of group A, Claudia and Rachel, complaining about Maria]

Today, the winners of the last episode will have a nice fun time at a salsa dancing class where each of them will get a chance to dance with Anthony but this class is more than education and whoever Anthony feels he has the best dance chemistry with will be the winner of the first one-on-one date of the season. The stakes are high but remember the first one-on-one date could set the tone for the season and the aforementioned winner could get a rose before the ceremony at the end of the day [insert Anthony talking to a mysterious lady about how much chemistry he is feeling]

Just remember dears, Lady Whistledown will be watching.

"Daphne, what the fuck are you doing here?" Anthony said immediately after shutting the door to his room.

"I just wanted to see you," she said sheepishly.

"Okay you have seen me now get out of here before anyone gets a long look at you and see that you are pregnant," Anthony gesticulates towards the door.

Daphne sniffles and then starts crying "I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to talk to,"

Anthony immediately feels bad and embraces his sister while directing her to sit down on his soft couch. "Daf what's wrong? Is it Simon?"

Daphne sniffed "Yes and no. These pregnancy hormones are doing a number on me but it's about you,"

"What about me?"

"I know why you are doing this and I feel bad-" he tried to interject but Daphne held her hand up "-please just let me finish," He nodded and Daphne continued "I know you are doing this so no one finds about me and Simon and I feel bad. You never liked having public relationships and now you are dating multiple women on national television and it's all my fault,"

Anthony took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't known what to say to his sister or his family about this situation for months. "I'll handle it," was kind of his motto at this point.

When Daphne and Simon had shown up on his London doorstep 5 months ago having eloped, he was disappointed. Disappointed in his sister's choice of partner but also that Daphne had forgone all of the things that she had always wanted as a little girl: the big wedding with all her family there and yeah it hurt that one of the few things that Anthony looked forward to as the family's pseudo father figure was the ability to walk his sister down the aisle and he missed that chance with Daphne. Despite it all, Anthony swallowed his disappointment and helped Daphne and Simon announce their situation to the rest of the family. Anthony usually sat at the head of the table so he had a clear view of everyone's reactions. His mother Violet Bridgerton looked at him first and then smiled at Daphne and Simon, taking her daughter's hand. Hyacinth and Gregory who hadn't quite learnt any tact yet asked about Fred and everyone looked at Daphne and Simon, while Anthony took another sip of his drink. It burnt his throat as it went down but he needed it.

Daphne thought she might have been helping the situation because even Eloise joined in on complaining about the suddenness of Daphne's nuptials. Daphne looked to Anthony for help but he shrugged his shoulders, he had warned her. Mostly he warned her that if she could not stand up to the scrutiny of the family when Daphne does eventually go public about her and Simon's relationship the scrutiny would be even more heavy. She then exclaimed, "I'm pregnant!" It silenced the table and Anthony had honestly never seen his family so shocked since Colin had run off a month ago to go chasing after a girl who did not want him. His mother stood up to congratulate Daphne in a hug which got Daphne to finally relax while the siblings all murmured congratulations while Fran, Hyacinth ad Greg spoke about who the favourite Aunt/Uncle was going to be.

Anthony thought it was over, at least for a while, until he got an appointment request from Charlotte Queen. Anthony was prepared to grovel for her forgiveness on behalf of his sister but instead of an angry executive, he got a cool and calm one. Which to be honest, was a lot scarier to him. Charlotte came as a courtesy to let Anthony know that she was going to be making her nephew the new Bachelor. At first, Anthony did not understand why that was news until he realised that that would mean people would be asking questions about why Daphne and Friederich did not work and whatever Fred said on the show could make or break Daphne's reputation. Friederich wasn't a bad guy but he was incredibly sincere and a bit naive, it made it hard for people not to be on his side. It could easily make Daphne look bad especially when news of her pregnancy got out. Anthony asked Charlotte if there was anything he could do to get Frederich out of the next season and Charlotte made it clear that she would someone of equal standing to take her nephew's place. Anthony knew what he had to do next. It was excruciating but after cancelling his meetings for the day and having meetings with all his solicitors and media people it became clear that this could do good things not just for Daphne but as a way to clean up his romantic image as well.

Later that week when Anthony announced that he was going to be the next Bachelor his news gave way to a very mixed reception. Ben and Colin went in on the teasing Hy and Greg were intrigued but it was Eloise who was able to figure out that Anthony had secret motives. That is when Anthony had to come clean about why he was doing it. Everyone understood and no one could offer up any other solutions so Violet then proceeded with the Sunday lunch and the family moved on to lighter topics.

After the lunch was over Anthony went outside to get some fresh, not to smoke a stress cigarette, and Simon came out to speak to him. It was stilted at first, in a lot of ways Anthony had lost one of his oldest and dearest friends to his sister and no one knew how he was feeling. Anthony had a line drawn in the sand for their relationship now: Simon was Daphne's husband and that was that. Things took a turn when Simon commented how this could be a good thing for Anthony and his philandering ways when Anthony lost it. He didn't know when he started but he knew that he was punching Simon relentlessly and Simon did not fight back, it only made him angrier. It was only when Ben came to pull Anthony off Simon did Anthony see the damage he had done. Every one of his siblings looked at him like he was something to be afraid of and Anthony did not stop to speak to any of them as he left Bridgerton House.

It had 4 months since the incident and everyone in the family had moved on. Everyone except Daphne, who he hadn't spoken to in months. He got information about how she was doing from their mother and his siblings but he realised that he could not speak to Daphne or Simon without getting angry and he did not want to be angry around his pregnant little sister.

"Daf I don't know what you want me to say," Anthony said softly.

"I want you to speak to Simon," Daphne said looking at him with those bright teary eyes.

"What would we speak about? I already apologised for the punches. It's done now,"

"Except it's not done. Simon was your best friend. The only other people you are close with are Benedict and Fife, and Fife is terrible and Ben is family,"

"Simon's family now too Daphne, that's what happens when you get married,"

"I know I just didn't think you would lose your friendship over this," she said softly

Anthony got up feeling agitated "Well, we did. He went from being my best friend to your husband that's how these things work,"

"He can still be your friend," Daphne pleaded.

"Except he can't Daf. Not the way he used to be. Simon was the person who I could go to outside of this family, whose loyalty was to me first. It was nice it was freeing at times but now he's your husband and that means his loyalty is to you first," Daphne looked like she wanted to interrupt but Anthony continued "And that's okay. I wouldn't want it any other way for you and my baby niece or nephew in there but it just means I have to keep things a little close to the chest a bit. It may not be this glamourized version of how you thought this was going to go when you married your brother's best friend but it is what it has to be. At least for now,"

Daphne sniffed some more and nodded her head "I wish I had done things differently,"

Before Anthony could answer her there was a knock on the dressing room door.

It took Anthony right out of his moment and he went to go answer it. It was Kate.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," Kate was so beautiful sometimes he needed a moment to adjust "Listen I don't have the time right now to speak,"

"Yeah, I didn't come to speak to you. Well, I did but not like that. Sophie and another line producer are coming to get you so that you can record your confessional for some of the contestants,"

Anthony nodded his head and went to close the door but he must have looked confused because Kate stopped the door from closing and said "I'm telling you this because few people know of your guest and the state she is currently in. We all sign NDA's but things get out. You might want her to put on a cap and leave through the back entrance,"

Anthony sighed and nodded "Thanks Kate,"

"No problem. You have 10 minutes," she said as she quickly walked away.

Anthony tried not to get too distracted by Kate's figure walking confidently and rushed to get a 6 months pregnant Daphne out of the studio lot.

Edwina was a nice girl. Nice being the operative word here. There was technically nothing wrong with her but as he got mic'ed up for their one-on-one date he could not help but feel like he made the wrong choice. Edwina was just one year younger than Daphne but she had already accomplished a lot, she was a principal dancer with the royal ballet, a dancing ability that helped a lot during today's salsa class, she had a degree in psychology and played the piano splendidly. These were all the things he needed reminding of going into this date because although no one could deny Edwina was a beauty, there was nothing distinct about her looks, bright wide eyes, soft delicate features and a smile that made you want to melt inside. It was usually his type but he could not help make the comparison between her and Kate. He did not know why but every time he saw Edwina he thought of Kate. Where Edwina was polite, Kate was cutting. Where Edwina was soft-spoken, Kate was direct and loud. Edwina was pretty, beautiful even but Kate was stunning. A strong beauty with strong features.

Anthony had to shake himself off from thinking about Kate. It was strange but also it made him uncomfortable that he looked at one Indian woman and saw another. Edwina and Kate may share similarities but it's not like he looked at Josie or Anika and saw Kate so why did Edwina remind him so much of Kate? Was he a racist? No way.

As the date with Edwina went on, they spoke about a few things. Anthony asked if she ever went horseriding and Edwina made a face "No not really. I'm not a big fan of horses. I like the small cute kind of animals that curl up in my lap,"

"The really cute ones like you," Anthony internally cringed at his comment but Edwina seemed to like it.

"Thank you. Tell me about you," Edwina prompted.

"What do you want to know?" He asked.

"What animals do you like? What books have you read? I want to know everything," she said sweetly.

"Everything huh? Well, I like cats and horses. My family owns a breed of horses," Anthony could feel that not only was he losing the interest of Edwina but the crew who seemed bored at the conversation unfolding. It was embarrassing, to say the least, he had never had his romantic charisma on display like this before "But if I had to be honest. The last thing I read was accounts and ledgers for my family company. I know it's incredibly boring,"

Edwina giggled "I don't think so. I love to read so I can keep you appraised about what the shelves are being stocked with for the both of us,"

Anthony chuckled a little bit and said "I'm glad, I always loved being read to. Especially by someone with a smooth voice like yours,"

Edwina visibly blushed and Anthony knew he had her hooked. He really was good at this. They spoke about family, Anthony told her to her shock that he had seven siblings and Edwina was nervous but said she did not have any siblings. Anthony figured her nervousness came from the thought of having seven members of his family she might have to impress.

After the end of his date with Edwina, Anthony was feeling invigorated. He liked her. Not as much as someone like Siena, Claudia or Maria but he did not want to give Siena a big head by showing his interest just yet. After recording his confessional, Anthony was able to spot Kate walking around on the grounds.

She was pacing staring at her phone and Anthony knew he should stay clear of her thinking about all the things he has been thinking about since he met her. The way she had already worked her way into his dreams. He convinced himself to go and speak to her by saying it was merely to thank her for the warning about Daphne earlier.

"...Yes, but she may be a bit over her head here. She is only doing this because of her grandparents and what they said," Kate said to Mary, her stepmother over the phone.

"Those people are vile Kate but Edwina can handle herself unless there is another reason why you think Edwina should not be in the running for one of England's most eligible Bachelors?" Mary asked with a sweeter tone

'Yeah, Edwina's gay mom' Kate thought but did not say, this was something Edwina was going to have to figure out on her own and she sure as hell was not going to be the one to out her sister.

Kate then heard someone behind her and saw Anthony heading her way. "Hey, Mom I gotta go. Send my love to Newton please,"

"Will do sweetie. I love you,"

"Love you too," As Kate ended the call Anthony had just reached her. Man, he smelled good. If she did not draw the short straw and had to rally footage for the girls in the house today then she would have been able to see his date with Edwina. She was nervous. Edwina was always good at putting on a show she just hopes that she didn't hurt anyone in the process.

"Who's Newton?" Anthony asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked.

"Why did you answer my question with another question? Is he your boyfriend?" He asked.

Kate was surprised by his boldness then again he had a way of making her heart beat faster. "Would that be any of your business?"

"Maybe not but I feel like I have to know," Anthony said.

Was it just her or did his voice get deeper at the end of that sentence? Kate felt herself heating up and said "He's my dog. A small little corgi,"

Anthony said "A dog huh? Why am I still jealous?"

Kate tried not to be affected by his question but she always loved showing pictures of her little boy so she brought her phone out and asked "Do you want to see how cute he is and how no one stands a chance next to him?"

"Sure,"

Kate showed Anthony a picture of her and Edwina lying on the grass with Newton stretched over her legs. Anthony looked taken back and then pointed at the picture it was then that she realised that Edwina was in the picture "You know Edwina?"

"Yes, she's my little sister. I told you I was here for family reasons just like you," Kate said nervously because she knew she should not have shown him that picture but at the same time hoped that it might prompt him to expel her sooner.

"That's surprising,"

"Surprising? Come on we look alike a bit," Kate said self-consciously about the fact that people liked to make jokes about how Edwina was the pretty one and Kate was the smart one. It was condescending but also opened Edwina up to people who liked to take advantage of her because she might not be historically clever.

"I know you look alike. The minute I saw her I thought of you. It was weird I thought I was racist for a second," Anthony was rambling but Kate found it cute.

"Well, take this as a warning to treat her with kindness," Kate said poking him in the chest.

Anthony grabbed her finger that lingered on her chest and Kate's heart skipped a beat "And why aren't you concerned that she might be the one who would be the mean one?"

"Edwina is kind and sweet and one of the few pure things in this world," she said.

Anthony quirked his brow "Is that so?"

"It is," she said.

"Well, I promise to treat her with the exact amount of kindness she gives out," Anthony said as he dropped Kate's finger to her surprise and disappointment.

Anthony walked away even though wanted him to stay. For what? She doesn't know but Kate knew she had to get a grip quickly because Anthony was supposed to be finding love on this show and she cannot be one of those women who is known for sleeping with people on the job.

Later as Kate watched footage of Edwina's date with Anthony did she realise Anthony's confusion. Edwina did not claim her. To be fair they were only half-sisters and a lot of Western families do not claim siblings that were not full but that was not how she and Edwina were raised so even though it hurt she kept on and tried to find the best angle for Edwina to come out of this date.

#anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #bridgerton #kanthony #kathony fanfic #kate x anthony #the unreal viscount

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denimbex1986 · 10 months ago

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'In Andrew Haigh's melancholic romantic drama "All of Us Strangers" there is a crackling atmosphere between the shooting stars Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal: a small cinematic event.

Suddenly he stands in front of Adam's apartment, without prior notice, with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and an outrageously engaging smile on his mustachioed face: “He's from Japan. Supposed to be the best in the world, but I couldn't explain to you why." His name is Harry. Would he be allowed to come in? For a drink? Or something else? His head leans imploringly against the doorframe: “There are vampires in front of my door…”

The Stranger's words are not meant seriously: There are no vampires in "All of Us Strangers," the new film by British screenwriter and director Andrew Haigh. But it wouldn't be surprising if they did appear in it - hidden in the shadows of this often dim drama, which takes place in an in-between world in which the living and the dead involuntarily come into close contact.

One might even ask which side of the Styx the protagonists are on: Adam and Harry, embodied by Irish shooting stars Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal. Scott is known as the sexy priest and diabolical villain Moriarty from the series “Fleabag” and “Sherlock”. Here he plays a TV script writer, a semi-alter-ego of his creator, Haigh. Mescal caused a stir in the father-daughter drama “Aftersun”. Both are based on tortured characters and fit into this pattern here too: in the role of two gay men who have never found their place in life.

Although the film has a few locations, it feels like a chamber piece because its world seems distant, depopulated and unreal. Adam lives in a new high-rise building somewhere in London, and he and Harry seem to be the only tenants. Empty corridors, the monotonous whirring of the ventilation, all of this creates a ghostly atmosphere.

Gentleness and sperm stains

Loneliness, alienation, despicable anomie: in “All of Us Strangers” it is both an expression of the malaise of modern life in general and of the constant outsiderness of homosexuals in a society that has supposedly long been tolerant.

In this dark haze, something like love flares up between the careworn Adam and the younger, bolder Harry, who hesitantly come closer, exchange their experiences, and sleep together. Haigh and cameraman Jamie Ramsay film all of this with captivating gentleness and discreet sensuality, between snatched kisses and sperm stains on the chest. The chemistry between the two main actors is fantastic, a small cinematic event. The magical-realistic subplot in which Adam ends up in his deceased parents' house, where they live on unaged, younger than himself, as if protected in amber, is somewhat less successful.

Adam doesn't need an explanation, he's only too happy to lose himself in this cozy, woolly-soft dream between nostalgia and grief: now he can finally ask all the questions he never dared to ask himself, work through the trauma of his hidden identity. At least he hopes so.

“All of Us Strangers” leaves it open whether it will succeed. Unfortunately, Claire Foy and Jamie Bell are not entirely convincing in the roles of Mum and Dad from the stuffy British middle class of the 1980s, they seem too “today”. Nevertheless, Adam's painful confrontation with their learned, almost innocent-seeming bigotry is touching.

What's wrong with Haigh's film Generational Portrait divides critics: some find his portrayal of gay men too shameful and anxious. Others praise the emotional authenticity and the artfully woven atmosphere of cozy melancholy. Which group you belong to probably depends on whether you end up choking up tears when “The Power of Love” from Frankie Goes To Hollywood plays: “I'll protect you from the hooded claw / Keep the vampires from your door” .'

#Andrew Haigh #Andrew Scott #Paul Mescal #Frankie Goes to Hollywood #The Power of Love #All of Us Strangers #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #Hot Priest #Moriarty #Sherlock #Fleabag #Aftersun #Jamie Ramsay

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scholarshipportal · 10 months ago

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(via Board Chemistry Question Paper - Resources & Key Concepts)

11th class Chemistry - Resources & Key Concepts

Chapter 1: Some Basic Concepts of Chemistry

➭ Matter, states of matter, and their properties

➭ Laws of Chemical Combination

➭ Dalton's atomic theory

➭ Mole concept and stoichiometry

➭ Chemical equations and balancing

Chapter 2: Structure of the Atom

➭ Subatomic particles: protons, neutrons, electrons

➭ Atomic number, mass number, isotopes

➭ Atomic models: Rutherford, Bohr, modern quantum mechanical model

➭ Electronic configuration and Aufbau principle

➭ Periodic trends: ionization enthalpy, electron affinity, atomic size

Chapter 3: Classification of Elements and Periodicity in Properties

➭ Modern periodic table and its organization

➭ Classification of elements into metals, non-metals, and metalloids

➭ Periodic trends in physical and chemical properties

Chapter 4: Chemical Bonding and Molecular Structure

➭ Ionic bonding: formation, characteristics, examples

➭ Covalent bonding: Lewis structure, octet rule, types of covalent bonds (single, double, triple)

➭ Coordinate covalent bonding

➭ Metallic bonding

➭ VSEPR theory and shapes of molecules

Chapter 5: States of Matter

➭ Gaseous state: kinetic theory of gases, ideal gas equation, gas laws

➭ Liquid state: properties of liquids, intermolecular forces (hydrogen bonding, dipole-dipole interactions, London dispersion forces)

➭ Solid state: crystalline and amorphous solids, types of crystals, unit cell

Chapter 6: Thermodynamics

➭ System, surroundings, types of systems (open, closed, isolated)

➭ The first law of thermodynamics: internal energy, work, heat

➭ Enthalpy (H) and its calculations

➭ Hess's law of constant heat summation

➭ Second law of thermodynamics: entropy (S), the spontaneity of reactions, Gibbs free energy (G)

Chapter 7: Equilibrium

➭ Reversible and irreversible reactions

➭ Chemical equilibrium: dynamic equilibrium, equilibrium constant (Kp andKc)

➭ Factors affecting equilibrium (concentration, temperature, pressure)

➭ Le Chatelier's principle

Chapter 8: Redox Reactions

➭ Oxidation and reduction, redox reactions

➭ Balancing redox reactions by oxidation number method

➭ Types of redox reactions (combination, decomposition, displacement)

➭ Electrochemical cells: galvanic and electrolytic cells

Chapter 9: The s-Block Elements (Li, Na, K, Mg, Ca, Sr, Ba)

➭ Electronic configuration trends

➭ Physical and chemical properties of each element

➭ Important compounds and their applications (e.g., sodium chloride, calcium carbonate)

➭ Diagonal relationships between Li and Mg, Be and Al

Chapter 10: The p-Block Elements (Group 13 to 17)

➭ Electronic configuration trends for each group

➭ Physical and chemical properties of each element group (e.g., Group 13 - Boron and Aluminum, Group 14 - Carbon and Silicon, Group 15 - Nitrogen and Phosphorus)

➭ Important compounds and their applications (e.g., boric acid, ammonia, sulfuric acid)

➭ Allotropy (e.g., carbon as diamond and graphite)

➭ Catenation (ability to form long chains)

Chapter 11: Organic Chemistry - I

➭ Basic concepts of organic chemistry (bonds, functional groups)

➭ Hydrocarbons: alkanes, alkenes, alkynes, aromatic hydrocarbons

➭ Isomerism (structural, geometrical, optical)

➭ Nomenclature of organic compounds (IUPAC system)

➭ Reactions of alkanes (substitution, combustion)

Chapter 12: Organic Chemistry - II

➭ Alcohols, phenols, ethers

➭ Aldehydes, ketones, carboxylic acids

➭ Amines, amides

➭ Organic compounds in everyday life (drugs, polymers, dyes)

Chapter 13: Polymers

➭ Classification of polymers (addition, condensation)

➭ Natural and synthetic polymers

➭ Important polymers and their properties (e.g., polyethylene, nylon, polyester)

➭ Biodegradable polymers and environmental concerns

Chapter 14: Environmental Chemistry

➭ Environmental pollution: types, sources, effects

➭ Air pollution, water pollution, soil pollution

➭ Strategies for pollution control and waste management

➭ Green chemistry and sustainable development

#board #chemistry #question paper

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pashterlengkap · 11 months ago

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Trailblazing transgender psychiatrist Jeanne Hoff has died

Jeanne Hoff, a trailblazing transgender psychiatrist, died at her home in San Francisco at the age of 85 this past October. Born to a working-class St. Louis family in 1938, Hoff received a master’s in science from Yale and a medical degree from Columbia University, the Advocate notes. A doctorate in solid state chemistry at University College in London and training and residency as a psychiatrist at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis followed, according to Gay City News. Related: Kim Petras was not the first trans person to win a Grammy That was electronic music pioneer Wendy Carlos. Hoff had already begun her own transition in 1976 when she took over the New York practice of Dr. Harry Benjamin, the German-American endocrinologist and sexologist who coined the term “transvestite” in 1910 and later began referring to patients as “transsexuals.” Never Miss a Beat Subscribe to our daily newsletter to stay ahead of the latest LGBTQ+ political news and insights. Promotions (occasional) * Week in Good News (one on the Weekend) * Week in Review (one on the Weekend) * Daily Brief (one each weekday) * Sign Up Hoff is considered the first openly transgender psychiatrist to treat trans patients—including punk rock singer Jayne County. She was a member of the Harry Benjamin International Gender Dysphoria Association, which later became the World Professional Association for Transgender Health. In 1978, she was the subject of an NBC documentary, Becoming Jeanne: A Search for Sexual Identity, which documented her own gender-confirmation surgery. In a remembrance published by Gay City News earlier this month, Andy Humm, who knew Hoff personally, wrote that she “was a very serious person — though with a great sense of humor and warmth.” Hoff, Humm wrote, was adamant that a person’s gender did not determine their sexuality and “took other psychiatrists to task when they would help a man transition to be a woman and then insist that as a woman, the patient had to form intimate relationships with men and not be ‘gay.’” “Dr Hoff knew that erotic attraction was independent of gender identity and that there are, of course, trans women who are lesbians,” Humm wrote. Humm knew Hoff through the Catholic LGBTQ+ group Dignity/New York. “Her fierce courage was unique at a time and in a Church institution that was and still can be so homophobic,” Rev. Bernárd Lynch, who also knew Hoff through the group, told Humm. “Yet she found warmth, companionship, and support from many. Jeanne inspired us by being herself — sparing no price and counting no cost in her integrity.” In her 2018 book, Histories of the Transgender Child, historian Jules Gill-Peterson wrote that “Hoff cared deeply about the well-being of her clients.” “Her work demonstrates a level of empathy entirely absent from transsexual medicine since its advent—not to mention its predecessors in the early twentieth century—an ethic of care that, although greatly constrained by the material circumstances and history of psychiatry and endocrinology, was also entangled with her situated perspective as a trans woman,” Peterson wrote. “It is important to underline that Hoff represents yet another trans person who took an active and complicated role in medicine, rather than being its object.” During one poignant moment in Becoming Jeanne, Hoff was asked by Dr. Frank Field, who cohosted the film with Lynn Redgrave, how she wanted people to accept her. “Well, it may not be necessary for you to go to a lot of trouble to learn about accepting transsexuals if you have a general principle, and that is: mind your own business, I suppose,” she responded. “If you are meddling in the life and freedom of someone else, you ought to do so very cautiously and make sure that you’re entitled to do so and that they’ll be better off for your having been there.” “So if you take the position that people are all… http://dlvr.it/T0Z0GP

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alarrytale · 1 year ago

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nick sounds very ambitious in interviews. he says tioy has prepared him for the next steps ahead so I definitely don't see him ever coming out (not in the near future at least) but the thing is this guy is not capable of playing mainstream straight roles lol. he always finds a way to add a bit fruitiness to it. even in that military propaganda movie where he plays a republican he's fruitiness slips out from time to time. he's an upper middle class london guy from what I can tell he lived a relatively privileged life where he easily finds his group of like minded safe ppl who has no problem for him to be the way he is growing up. I think he's very much out in his private life and only had girlfriends(who are almost definitely also queer or too young to figure out who themselves are) before cuz he knows he has the chops to blow up one day and any past boyfriends will damage his career. taking gay/bi roles is his coping machnism. also a big red flag with him is that he's specifically into south eastern Asian girls which seems very creepy to me and screams closeted behavior. I can go on and on about nick lol hes fascinating to me.

Hi, anon!

This is alot! Here is my attempt at an answer. I don't know how ambitious he is. I know the quote you're refering to (x) and i'm not sure i read it the same as you. I think his ambitions will be revealed when we see how busy he'll be or which roles he chooses to play. I'm not clear on his goals or what he wants to achieve, other than him wanting to grow and learn.

If he's queer i'm not sure if his ambition got anything to do with his closet? Do you mean he's not coming out because he's ambitious? I'm not sure i agree and not sure how true that is anymore. His fanbase is different and already suspects he's queer. If he's continuing taking queer roles (as a coping mechanisms) but presents very straight (more than now) i think the queerbaiting accusations might get him. So he'll have to balance.

I think he plays straight roles well? I think the on screen chemistry with women is good? So why can't he play mainstream straight roles? I don't think he wants to play only mainstream straight roles, because it's not challenging enough or the characters are not as complex. But beggars can't be choosers and i think he's said yes to several roles to grow and further his career.

I agree that if he's queer he's out in private. I don't know about all his gfs. How do you know they are queer (know only of one and they were costars and only linked in the tabloids). I've seen the ig likes, but it's not creepy to me, he might just like the music, i don't think he's doing it to make himself seem straight? And if he's that ambitous and wants to be seen as straight why didn’t he stunt with Camilla or Sofia? Or at least get some speculation going?

Nick is very fascinating! He's such a hard nut to crack though. I think he's multitalented and very hard to pigeonhole as this or that.

#nick galitzine #not 1d

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celticbarb · 1 year ago

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Author: Her Scandalous Scot

Series: The Highland Knights, Book #2

Book Length: 275 pages

Release Date: June 12, 2023

Overall Rating: 5/5 Stars

Blog Rating: 5/5 Saltire Flags

This is the second time I read and reviewed this book as this book is a reissue and was originally under the title Highland Awakening. Furthermore Amazon posted my 5 star review back in 2017. Now in this second reissue there are some content changes and again I gave it another 5 star review. My review is similar with some minor changes with my second review for the same book. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I did…..Celtic Barb’s Book Review Blog

London, 1816

This hero of the story is the handsome, strong, braw, highlander, Camden McLeod, a member of the secret Scottish mercenary elite group The Highland Knights. Camden, known as Cam, is a man who likes and is used to having things his own, precise way! The heroine is Lady Esme Hawkins, the introverted, shy, sister spinster of the Duke of Trent , who is one of the most important men in all of England! Another interesting layer to this story is Esme has a secret past that caused a scandal and nearly ruined her and the Trent name. Esme wants to make this up for past mistakes to her brother of such a high status and wants him to trust and believe in her again.

Cam and Esme meet where she is in disguise ldoing research at the most unlikely place a man brothel and he is on assignment for a Viscount at a classy expensive first class brothel where. They both share a very passionate kiss and embrace as they have instant chemistry and attraction with a dash of lust. This is the last place you expect to meet an introverted spinster and sister of a Duke. Cam is curious about this woman, when questioned about her notebook Esme fears the worst! She feels if he caught just a glimpse of her writing it could cause her ruin and scandal which forces her to bolt and take off.

Cam and Esme meet again at a party her brother is throwing and this is where he finds out she is betrothed to Henry which doesn't stop Cam in his pursuit of Esme. He is determined to have her and makes it very direct by his feelings and actions. What makes matters worse is her betrothed Henry is a former schoolmate of Cam's from Elton. On top of this there is murder in the mix as one of the Highland Knights has been murdered and the entire group is targeted for murder as well.

Will there be more deaths among the Highland Knights? Could it be Cam? Will they ever find who is doing the killing and why? Who will Esme choose Henry or Cam? Is someone’s heart possibly going to break? Will Esme get ruined with her reputation destroyed if any of her writing is ever made public? Can this destroy her brother's successful political career? To have these questions answered and more you must read this mesmerizing book to find out!

Jennifer Haymore does it again with another quick paced page turner, in “Her Scandalous Scot ''. Furthermore this includes multi dimensional characters, fast moving conflicts, stunning settings, wicked villains that immediately takes you on the path of hatred, devastation and destruction, plus mystery, murder mayhem and so much more that includes love! All the elements historical romance fans want to read about and so much more! Another swoon worthy book that caused me to lose some hours of sleep, but definitely worth the loss of shut eye! This book is action packed and full of twists and turns, a heart warming riveting adventure from start to finish! Jennifer Haymore is an exquisite master storyteller in my opinion and will leave readers totally delighted! Readers definitely do not want to miss this exceptional read!

Even though it is a re-issue that I have read before, after-all this is my second time reading this story, as it felt like a brand new book to me. Especially since there is new content in it and it has been like seven or eight years since I originally read this Highland Knight series. Readers will be able to read this in series order or as a stand alone book. I always prefer to read in book order myself, which I highly Prefer in recommend. It was a delightful read! This series is a reissue from 2016 and as always this reviewer always follows Amazon’s review guidelines.

The Highland Knights Series

1. The Spinster and Mr. Scot formerly Highland Heat

2. Her Scandalous Scot formerly Highland Awakening

Disclaimer: I received an advance readers copy from the publisher. I voluntarily agreed to do an honest, fair, review and blog. All words, thoughts and ideas are my own.

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accleratelearning · 3 months ago

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quoteoftheweekblog · 2 years ago

Quote

QUOTE OF THE WEEK 27/3/23 - NANCY MITFORD ‘ … notepaper, perfume, mirror and mantelpiece … ‘ (Mitford, 2015, p.460).

Mitford, N. (2015 [1945] ) ‘The pursuit of love’ in ‘The complete novels’. London: Penguin Books, pp.413-534. *****

U (UPPER CLASS) AND NON-U (MIDDLE CLASS)

Writing paper / Notepaper

Scent / Perfume

Looking-glass / Mirror

Chimneypiece / Mantelpiece (’U and non-U English’, 2022).

REFERENCE

‘U and non-U English’ (2022) ‘Wikipedia’. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U_and_non-U_English (Accessed 26 March 2023).

*****

SEE ALSO

‘ “Oh, why can’t dogs read?” ‘ (Mitford, 2015, p.419).

FOR BOOK GROUP

THIS MONTH TWO OF OUR MEMBERS ARE STILL READING FEBRUARY’S BOOK

https://www.waterstones.com/book/jane-austen-at-home/lucy-worsley/9781473632202

‘ … STILL CATCHING UP … ‘

BUT ONE OF THEM IS STARTING THE PREQUEL TO MARCH’S BOOK

https://www.waterstones.com/book/love-in-a-cold-climate/nancy-mitford/alan-cumming/9780241974698

‘ … SOME OF THE SAME CHARACTERS.’

…

PLUS

OTHER MEMBERS HAVE ALSO READ (OR ARE READING) …

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-glass-painters-daughter/rachel-hore/9781471151880

‘ … EXPLORES RELATIONSHIPS AND THE SKILLS INVOLVED IN GLASS WINDOW MAKING … NOT YET SURE WHAT THE OVERALL MESSAGE IS.’

…

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-salt-path/raynor-winn/9781405937184

‘I’VE READ IT BEFORE AND I THINK IT’S A VERY POWERFUL BOOK … COUPLE WERE MADE HOMELESS … DECIDED TO WALK THE SOUTH WEST COASTAL PATH … ‘

…

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-woman-in-white/wilkie-collins/matthew-sweet/9780141439617

‘MY SLOW BURN EARLY MORNING CLASSIC’

… OUR TOP MEMBER

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cadfael_Chronicles

‘ … LOVE THESE AND RE-READ FREQUENTLY … ‘

https://www.waterstones.com/book/if-i-let-you-go/charlotte-levin/9781529084115

‘READABLE AND THOUGHT PROVOKING.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-book-of-eve/meg-clothier/9781472276087

‘RATHER WEIRD’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/cold-comfort-farm/stella-gibbons/lynne-truss/9780241418895

‘‘DEFINITELY WEIRD!’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/silas-marner/george-eliot/david-carroll/9780141439754

‘ … SHE DOES NOT DISAPPOINT.’ &

https://www.waterstones.com/book/the-mysterious-case-of-the-alperton-angels/janice-hallett/9781800816435

‘VERY READABLE AND QUITE GRIPPING.’

https://www.waterstones.com/book/after-you/jojo-moyes/9781405909075

‘THE SEQUEL TO ME BEFORE YOU WHICH I ENJOYED. I AM ENJOYING THIS ONE TOO.’

…

OUR LEADER

https://www.waterstones.com/book/true-wilderness/the-rev-h-a-williams-cr/9780826464590

‘ … A BOOK ON THEOLOGY, WRITTEN IN THE SIXTIES AND FAIRLY RADICAL.’ &

https://biblio.co.uk/book/staircase-silence-ecclestone-alan/d/786476403

‘ … ABOUT A NINETEENTH CENTURY FRENCH POET AND THEOLOGIAN WHO WROTE ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF SILENCE. INTERESTING BUT HARD GOING.’

*****

BOOK GROUP 2023

JANUARY - JODI PICOULT - ‘WISH YOU WERE HERE’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/707162386989219840/quote-of-the-week-23123-jodi-picoult-and FEBRUARY - LUCY WORSLEY - ‘JANE AUSTEN AT HOME - A BIOGRAPHY’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/709807520542277632/quote-of-the-week-20223-lucy-worsley-there

MARCH - NANCY MITFORD - 'THE PURSUIT OF LOVE’

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/712878877446373376/quote-of-the-week-27323-nancy-mitford

APRIL - FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT - 'THE SECRET GARDEN’ MAY - EDITH WHARTON - 'THE HOUSE OF MIRTH’ JUNE - TRACEY CHEVALIER - 'A SINGLE THREAD’ JULY - E.M. FORSTER - 'A ROOM WITH A VIEW’ AUGUST - DAMON GALGUT - 'THE PROMISE’ SEPTEMBER - ALEXANDER MCCALL SMITH - 'THE HOUSE OF UNEXPECTED SISTERS’ OCTOBER - ARAVIND ADIGA - 'SELECTION DAY’ NOVEMBER - BONNIE GARMUS - 'LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY’ DECEMBER - JULES VERNE - 'AROUND THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS’

*****

AND THIS IS WHAT WE READ EARLIER

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/bookgroup

*****

NANCY MITFORD

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/30954102908/quote-of-the-week-3912-nancy-mitford-oh

*****

QUOTE OF THE WEEK 2011 - 2023 11 EPIC YEARS

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/references FROM THE ARCHIVE

https://quoteoftheweekblog.tumblr.com/post/30954102908/quote-of-the-week-3912-nancy-mitford-oh

*****

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unitedtuition1 · 2 years ago

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Are you looking for A-level Chmistry Tutor in the UK? Get in touch with United Tuition Group (UTG) who provides high quality online and in-person tuition for primary and secondary school students. UTG is a team of experienced and fully qualified teachers (accredited with PGCE & QTS) and are currently teaching in the outstanding schools.

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llminukmeridean · 2 years ago

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University of Kent: A Premier UK Institution

Introduction:

The University of Kent is a leading research institution located in Canterbury, UK. It was established in 1965 and has since become one of the top universities in the UK, consistently ranking high in league tables. The university is renowned for its excellent academic programs, beautiful campus, and diverse student body.

University of Kent: A Brief Overview

Academic Programs Offered at the University of Kent

The university of kent uk offers a wide range of academic programs at both undergraduate and postgraduate levels. The university has four faculties: Arts and Humanities, Sciences, Social Sciences, and Medway. Each faculty offers a variety of courses in different disciplines, including but not limited to:

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Sciences: Mathematics, Physics, Chemistry, Biological Sciences, and Sports Science

Social Sciences: Law, Economics, Psychology, Sociology, Politics and International Relations, and Anthropology

Medway: Pharmacy, Sports Therapy, and Adult Nursing

Campus Life at the University of Kent

The University of kent university uk is located on a beautiful campus in Canterbury, which is easily accessible by train from London. The campus is home to a wide range of facilities, including:

A modern library with over a million books, journals, and electronic resources

A sports centre with a swimming pool, fitness suite, and various sports courts

A range of accommodation options, including catered and self-catered halls of residence and private housing

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Conclusion:

If you are considering studying in the UK, the University of Kent should definitely be on your list of universities to consider. With its excellent academic programs, beautiful campus, and diverse student body, the University of Kent offers a world-class education and a unique cultural experience. Whether you are interested in the arts, sciences, social sciences, or medicine, the University of Kent has something for everyone. So why not apply today and see for yourself what this amazing university has to offer?

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spiltscribbles · 4 years ago

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57. “Wait a second.. are you jealous?” + Poorly Timed Confession + modern au 😍 pretty please!!!

~Notes: OMFG angel!!! Thank you SO SO much for the prompt<3 You are a complete babe! I hope you like :S It’s cheese, but like also what else would I do? LMFAO XD

Smash Prompt Game | Send Me A Prompt💜 | A Reblog Is Like An I Love You!!

“Hmmm… All right, would you rather, mmm… Smell Borris Johnson’s sweaty gym socks, or snog Professor Slughorn full on the mouth for a straight minute— oh erm, not so straight I reckon on second thought.”

Remus wrinkles his nose at him from across the bed, and clucks his tongue at the awful pun. “You’re unruly.”

“And you’re dodging,”

“Am not arse, I’m just recovering from that very terrifying scenario you’ve spewed out like the sadistic satanist you are.”

“Which scenario are you recovering from though?” Sirius leers, wiggling his eyebrows and jostling Remus’s textbook with his foot.

“I hate that you’re enjoying this so much,” Remus intones in a deadpan.

“Mary John, I’m waiting,” Sirius says with far too much glee.

Sometimes Remus is sure that he hates him. “Fine, the answer is I hate you.”

“Filthy and slanderous lies, Lupin.”

“You’re demented.”

“Five. Four. Three—“

“I won’t choose.”

“See, all I hear is that you wanna get it on with our chemistry professor, you saucy minx, you.”

Remus sniffs. “Better than touching that prick with even a ten foot pole.”

“Mmmm, have I ever told you how hot and heavy I get hearing you talk politics at me?”

Remus throws him the bird, which makes Sirius laugh. Remus can objectively say that Sirius has the most beautiful variations of laughter in the world, and he’d know considering he’s catalogued each one. This version is definitely top three. His care free, effortless laugh when Remus takes him off guard with a snide remark or lowly muttered retort that’s not appropriate for most company— It’s really more of a experience, truly. His breaths stutter out in a lovely staccato, and his eyes glimmer like the sea, and sometimes it feels like the world’s been suspended and it’s only the two of them in that slice of eternity.

Erm, Ah, but yeah…. That only happens occasionally, and it’s only because Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend— has been since the final year of primary school after Remus had moved to the London outskirts from his small, coastal town in Wales, and on first sight, Sirius swung a snowball straight to Remus’s face, which he of course responded to by throwing two more his way, and well… The pair of them were soaking and breathless by the end of it, but their fate was sealed, they were the greatest of friends, and nothing would ever alter that unquestionable staple.

So what if sometimes Remus’s chest thuds painfully when Sirius dimples his way, or Remus only ever wants to talk to him over anyone else— even Lily or his Mam— if he’s had a bad day, or good one, or if something remarkable had happened, or , or… Or whenever really. And there’s absolutely no significance that Remus can’t help the totally delighted grin that splits his face in half whenever he gets a text or snap from Sirius.

None of that is at all relevant.

Sirius is Remus’s greatest friend, and he’d never risk ruining that by allowing some pesky little crush swallow him whole and clammer out his mouth— vulnerable and throbbing in the open space between them. It doesn’t matter if Marlene always makes kissy faces their way, or how James only ever refers to them as a couple, and so what if Peter’s got a pole running that Remus knows basically the whole school is betting on.

They’re all wrong, Sirius would never, ever feel the same sort of way that Remus does him, that’s downright preposterous and ridiculous and just simply impossible. And Remus’s perfectly content with that very real truth… He is.

Remus is fine with it God help him. So everyone else just needs to but the fuck out of their business.

Besides, this, this right now— Him and Sirius splayed out on opposite ends of Remus’s bed, with Sirius’s feet nudging at Remus’s elbow whenever he’s got a question about there homework, with the window cracked open just so, letting in some of the chilly winter air because Sirius absolutely can not focus if he’s not cold— the fucking furnace— Where Remus can still hear the going ons of his family playing out on the floor below them… This is the most perfect place in Remus’s eyes, and he won’t ever change that, especially not to live out some boyhood fantasy that would never come into fruition in his wildest of dreams.

Remus’s content… He is… He has to be or else he’d lose one of the most vital people in his world.

“You’ve got footie practice after school, right?”

“Mmhmm, you coming to watch?”

“Only if you admit i’m your good luck charm,” Remus sardonically bats his lashes at Sirius as if he was in a mascara advert, and the taller boy blows a raspberry right back at him.

“Nice, real nice. You’re extraordinarily mature, you know that, Black?”

“And sexy, don’t forget that, oh so important descriptor Lupin.”

Remus leans against the locker besides Sirius’s, watches as he trades his current binders for the lot he’ll need for the afternoon, and tries really hard not to stare too longingly at how Sirius’s arm muscles ripple beneath their school’s maroon, uniform jackets in the most delicious of ways. (He hates the fact he’s been dissolved into a starry eyed mess lusting over the star striker, but thus is his fate.)

“I’d never commit such a faux pas, and I’m insulted that you’d ever think as much.”

Sirius sneers at him with a slight shake to his head. “So you coming or not?”

“I’m still contemplating my options,” he preens, but before Sirius could retort, Marlene, megawatt smile and dangerously sharp smirk— swaggers over towards them.

“Good morning my two beautiful chums!”

“What do you want?” Sirius asks before even glancing her way, to which Marlene blinks up at him, faux owlish. “S, I just wanted to greet a couple of my closest companions this lovely December morning,” she defends herself.

“Marls, you’re never this agreeable before noon,” Remus points out hesitantly.

“ And you rarely are even afterwards,” Sirius tacks on.

“Rude,” she pouts.

“Accurate,” Remus pipes in with an apologetic grimace.

Marlene stares them both down for a solid minute before finally relaxing her shoulders, and thrusting out the legal pad in her grasp. “The student council and spirit society are selling corsages for the snowflake formal, and Dorcas has deployed me to get some orders.”

“Whipped,” Sirius teases through a counter-fit cough.

Marlene doesn’t hesitate before smashing the legal pad on his head. “And you traipsing around getting people to buy the tickets for the theatre department last semester even though Re was only playing Mercutio wasn’t you being wrapped around his littlest finger?”

Remus flushes, feeling an unnerving amount of bees stinging around his stomach, and is thankful when the conversation pauses after Sirius casts her a very heated V. “Sod off.”

“So are you guys gonna buy or not?” Marlene huffs, weight slung to her left hip, and arms crossed against her chest.

“I’m a gay bloke, Marls, did you forget that?” Remus pins her with a one eyed squint, and she just scrunches her face up at him, exasperated.

“I’m sure there’s matching boutonnieres.”

“Fine, I just don’t have any school spirit then.”

This time she glares. “Lily and James are Head Boy and Head Girl, isn’t there like an oath between you lot, one for all and all for one, or some rot?”

“That’s the three musketeers,” he says.

“isn’t that basically who you guys are?” She reasons.

Before their wage of words could continue, Sirius just grabs the order form out of Marlene’s hands and fills out a sheet with the flurry of his pen. “Happy?”

“Positively delighted,” she leers, pecking them both on the cheek before strutting off, reminding them of their group study session at Alice’s tonight in her wake.

Sirius shakes his head, reluctantly amused with a grin gathering on the corners of his mouth, but for Remus everything feels like it’s frozen. “You didn’t have to do that you know? ’S not like James is much of a Head Boy anyhow, and Lily wouldn’t have really cared.”

Sirius shrugs, commences their walk to the opposite wing of the school for their shared history class. “Emmy likes that sort of romantical shite.”

Remus sees red, feels his heart lodging in his damn esophagus. “Oh, so— Erm, you’re taking her then,” Remus wonders if his tone sounds as detached as he feels.

“Yeah,” Sirius eyes him, questioning. “She wants that title of snow queen real bad, made me promise I’d campaign with her and the whole shtick.”

“Oh,” it’s like Remus could feel it when he closes off completely, can feel his hopes squashed down and his heart contract and his every organ collapsing in on themselves, leaving him feeling hollowed out completely.

Sirius slows down marginally, eyeing him with a slight frown. “Is that all right? I know you two don’t exactly get along and we were planning to go as a group, bu—“

“It’s fine,” Remus hates how screechy his voice gets, how he feels like he’s about to scream. “You two are a shoe in, no doubt.”

Sirius tries to mirror Remus’s faux excitement with a tepid grin of his own, but Remus doesn’t let him, instead commandeering their typical table on the back row and tries focussing on the thousandth war with France while his world tilts off kilter.

Emmy is beautiful, and popular and her smile alone dazzles the whole room. She’s everything that Sirius should look for in a partner, someone to match his whip lash wit, and his taste for all things exuberant that skirt on flashy, and someone who’s got just as many friends and admirers as him.

They’re perfect and Remus should just get over his petty ass hatred of her, even if he still thinks she can be down right cruel and selective and selfish. Qualities Sirius surely isn’t… But maybe it’s all in his head how she sneers at people who she finds plane, or how she literally guffaws over the misfortune of others. Maybe his perception of how she wields people in like moths to a flame just to get what she wants is all a misunderstanding, or in his head or something.

Maybe all that’s possible, even if Remus seriously doubts it.

But at the end of the day, Sirius loves her— has been basically infatuated by Emmeline Vance since she first transferred at the start of their Freshman year. Sirius loves her, and who ever Sirius loves is merely an extension of him… Right?

Remus just needs to get over it and somehow rid himself of this crush he’s been fostering for so long it’s basically a part of him at this point. Though, he thinks it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t see their faces plastered on posters everywhere the week and a half leading up to the dance— looking like actual royals that would put Will and cate to shame.

“Yo cheekbones!”

Remus starts, swivels around from where he was scratching his pen to paper, finding Sirius— as glimmering and beautiful as always— swaggering up to him, insanely electric smile painted over his face.

“Would you rather eat a jumbo jar of jalapeños without a break, or eat the toenails from someone with athlete’s foot next to your dinner every night of the rest of your life?”

“I thought you were having lunch with Emmy to keep up your royalty status before this weekend?” Remus asks, tacitly side stepping from the horrific images swimming to the forefront of his mind because of his cruel question.

“Now that doesn’t sound like an answer to my ultimatum,” Sirius says in a singsong sort of voice.

“You answer me first,” Remus says airily.

“But I asked first,” Sirius argues haughtily.

“Well both your options would kill me, so I wouldn’t do either,” Remus retorts.

“That’s not how the game works!”

“You’re the one who always says that rules were made to be broken,” Remus says, lofty as all get out,, and dissolves into laughter at the completely cross look Sirius’s giving him.

“You were born to be contrary, weren’t you?”

“So lunch?”

“Got bored,” he shrugs, hopping onto the corner of the desk Remus’s working on. “What you up to instead of eating?”

“My position paper for Model UN.” Sirius smiles down at him, and Remus can’t help the flush that spreads across his cheeks in return. “Not as glamorous as running as Snow King, I know.”

“It’s precious,” Sirius contends, his soft timbre sounding like syrup and his long fingers fluttering against Remus’s skin, pushing back a lock of his ever disheveled, tawny curls in a far to gentle way, and Remus gulps before averting his gaze to break the sudden tautness that’s built between them.

They’ve had so many of these almost moments, ones that Remus’s always treasured but he knows doesn’t mean much of anything at all to Sirius— Sirius who is effortlessly hilarious, and brims with genius and who is so beautiful that sometimes it hurts looking at him for too long. Sirius who has a new suitor at his beck and call on a near weekly basis. But whenever they transpire now, it just hurts all the more because Remus knows in his heart of hearts that they will never lead anywhere, and Sirius is in love with Emmy and Remus can’t let himself float around in this daydream for any longer.

“Ahem,” he clears his throat, shuffles in his seat only slightly. “I’m Algeria so my Mam’s pretty excited about it. She’s been telling me all the stuff Wikipedia’s got wrong and everything.”

Sirius laughs, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Your mother is kinda everything, you know that?”

Remus twists his mouth up, reluctant. “Don’t tell her as much, or else she’ll go on and on how she won Miss Teen Great Britain when she was only sixteen.”

“Hmm, I was wondering where you got that pretty face.”

“You, Sirius Black, can go lick an unwashed arse.”

“You’ll never catch a suitor with that cheek of yours though. I’d work on that, Lupin.”

“I don’t think I could ever win Miss Congeniality, alas.” Remus doesn’t quite catch Sirius’s reply, to busy responding too the text his phone just chirped with instead.

“Mary John, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sirius’s brows hike up, flabbergasted smile stretched across his face. “So totally rude! And I came all the way here— to the place where dreamers die— just to spend time with you.”

“Sorry,” Remus gives him an abashed little half grin before setting the phone back down. “’s just Fabian.”

Sirius’s expression drops, goes inquisitive instead of his typical ebullience. “Fabian? Why’s Fabian Prewett texting you, and why is he,” Sirius crooks his head so he’s able to read the new message that popped up on Remus’s phone’s screen. “Asking about color coordination?”

Remus blushes for an entirely new reason now, one he likes much less. “Ah, he’s the sort to like it when our suits like match, but not in an abrasive fashion, you know?”

Sirius’s face goes scarily blank.

“Your suits? Suits for what?”

“The dance…” Remus says slowly, he’s confused what Sirius’s confused about.

“The dance… Right… I thought you were still going with everyone else?”

“Pff, no way,” Remus scoffs. “Lily’s only pretending to be single, you know how red in the face she gets whenever around James. They’ll end up dancing the whole night away. And with Dorcas running the whole event and Benjy thinking any social function is a plague on society, that’d leave me stuck with Peter and Mary, . And honestly I’ve seen enough of her tongue shoved down his throat for a lifetime.” Remus is only slightly surprised that doesn’t even elicit a chuckle from Sirius, who’s now looking a bit stormy— and he thinks he’ll never be accustomed to his mercurial moods that can change as quickly as the snap of the finger.

“Right… So you’re going with Fabian Prewett… as your date?”

“Yes… Why is that so hard to believe?”

“it’s, it’s not,” Sirius scrambles, suddenly standing up.

“Then why are you being so weird about this,” Remus argues, getting up to meet him at his level.

“Am not!”

“You’re going with Emmy,” Remus reminds him, this edge of desperate.

“I know I am, okay. But you— you—“ Sirius tappers off, eyes glassy and lips parted with words he can’t get out, and Jesus fucking Christ is it weird how for the first time ever their roles have reversed. Sirius can’t put any sentences together, and everything Remus’s been beating down— everything thrashing inside of him— are now burning his throat and warring over who can spill out first.

“What? I’m suppose to stay behind like the pathetic, nobody friend. The guy who’s just there to moon after you while you have an actual life. The Judie garland to your Mickie Roomie!”

“What are you even talking about right now!” Sirius shouts, sounding as torn apart as Remus feels.

“As if you don’t know!” He snarls, collecting his books into his backpack— Suddenly this room feels to stifling. He can’t breathe and it’s too hot and his chest is pounding.

He’s imploding and Remus has no idea how to rectify it.

“Just stop! Remus Stop!”

“leave me the fuck alone Sirius!”

“Why are you being such a prick about this!”

And that, that makes Remus angry, angrier than he’s ever been.

Before he could even think about it for a moment longer, Remus is rounding on him, dashing so close to Sirius that he can taste his breath with how close their faces are skirting against each other.

“I’m in love with you! I’ve been in love with you for forever, and I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I know that you’re in love with Emmy and, and I just know okay.”

“Wha—“ Sirius sputters, looking like a gaping fish. “Wait a second, are you jealous? Of sodding Emmy Vance?”

“Don’t!” Remus practically growls out. "Don’t disrespect me, okay? Don’t pretend that you never knew, or that I was such a good actor. I’ve been in love with you for years and you always knew and Fine, I get it. You never felt the same way, that’s fine. But just don’t pretend as if you never had the choice, don’t make me out as the bad guy for actually, finally saying yes to a bloke who’s actually into me. I need to fucking give up on the premise of us, I need to get over you. So I’m going out with fucking Fabian Prewett and you’re going out with Emmy Vance and that’s that!”

His breaths are labored, jagged and painful, as they race out of him, but Remus can’t move. He’s staring straight into Sirius’s beautiful, gray eyes, and he sees everything he’s always seen there, and hates that this is probably the last time he’ll get to be this close to him.

Not after this.

“I didn’t,” is the first thing Sirius croaks out, broken and helpless. “i didn’t know, Remus you have to believe me— I didn’t—”

“How! How could you not know!” He shouts back, but Remus doesn’t get his answer in so many words, instead he feels it.

He feels it when Sirius clamps his hands on either end of his waste-line, feels it when Sirius smashes their lips together in a cacophony of lips, and teeth and spit. He feels it when Sirius moans in side of him, when his hand moves down, spreads across the width of the small of his back, pushing their torsos even closer. Remus feels it when everything goes into focus, when he takes Sirius into his arms, greedy and excited and disbelieving.

And Remus thinks to all the other times he’s kissed another boy— To this prior weekend swapping snogs with a beaming Fabian in the back of a theatre. He thinks of how there was never anything worth anything when he kissed any of them Because it was all Sirius, always Sirius. And he could try to love Fabian, or some other cute boy, and he tried, and he tried, and he tried, and he gave all he had…but it was never enough, could it ever be enough?

Remus knows it in his bones that it’s enough when it’s with Sirius.

When they finally pull apart it’s difficult to breathe and Remus feels lightheaded and it’s wonderful in the most marvelous of ways.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says in a whisper.

“Maybe next time give a guy some warning?” Remus can’t help the shit eating smirk that swipes across his mouth and is elated at the adorably cross scowl Sirius answers him with.

“Fine jackass, how’s this for a warning, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“That’ll be sufficient, I suppose,” Remus goads, laughing against Sirius’s lips when he does just that.

~*~

Sirius ends up winning snow king, but rejects the dance with Emmy, opts to ask Remus to join him instead, as if they were in the middle of some John Hughes movie from the fucking 80s.

It’s utterly ridiculous and overdone and simply way too much— but everyone applauded and cheered and when Sirius kissed him in the middle of it, Remus felt as if his whole body sung with joy.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #SPILT INK #PROMPTS #I love you endlessly #!!!!

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oreosmama · 4 years ago

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Indebted and In Debt (Vampire Kenma x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Kozume Kenma is one of the most infamous vampires to ever exist, the legends of him and his clan rivaling that of Dracula himself. His preserved sarcophagus lies in the heart of Tokyo’s Supernatural Museum, subsection C: Vampires. You, on the other hand, are the reason wet floor signs exist. A chance slip, an accidental cut, and a band aid missing the trash can all lead to the chance meeting of you and the vampire committed to serving you eternally. “I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”

A/N: lil idea I just had. Don’t know where I’m gonna go w it, if anywhere, but like y’all can read it if u wanna🥺👉👈 Enjoy!

Word count: 3631

“Years ago, this museum was founded after the first sighting of a werewolf in Tokyo. He was spotted at midnight under a full moon just as he- Ma’am, please refrain from touching the artifacts.”

Sheepishly, you pulled your hand away from a hip-high ancient wood carving of a mermaid, inching your way back toward the group as the tour guide fixed you with a dirty look. With a small huff, she straightened her shoulders under her Victorian-style overcoat that matched the rest of her gothic getup. An ancient London day dress made her seem as though she had crawled out of one of the many paintings on the wall that depicted Jack the Ripper as numerous supernatural creatures. The only thing that set her apart was the ID badge that hung around her neck.

As you returned to both of your friends’ sides, you avoided their shaming gazes and instead busied yourself with pretending to listen to the tour guide as she restarted her monologue.

“YN,” one of your friends, Akira, hissed, “you promised you wouldn’t touch anything!”

“I didn’t!” you whisper-yelled back. “The lady stopped me before I could.”

At your half-effort to clear yourself of blame, Akira leaned her head back and let out a loud sigh. Kanna watched the interaction with a ghost of a smile on her lips, sniggering a little as she always did when Akira lectured you.

Both of your friends had invited you with them today as a celebration of passing your first semester of college together. Kanna had obtained the tickets in some way that went along the lines of “My dad’s brother knows the cousin of a guy who…” yadda yadda yadda.

Either way, you agreed to go with because, as expected, nobody was watching you and everyone had their eyes on them. Both of your friends were significantly beautiful, Kanna towering over you with long slim legs and hair that trailed down her back in waves while Akira stood just about at your chin, her hair chopped into a bob that never failed to frame her glowing eyes and constant frown.

Standing with them was like hiding in plain sight--an effortless camouflage.

You only realized you were lost in thought when Akira stalked back from the tour group that had managed to travel thirty feet ahead of you, her hand grasping your arm and dragging you back up to join them. When you returned you saw Kanna flirting with a boy who looked around your age and you distantly remembered him from your chemistry class.

Of course, he didn’t recognize you.

As the tour group made its way through the cathedral-shaped museum, stopping for a few minutes at a time for each exhibit of mythical beasts, your gaze darted back and forth between the ever-growing collection of sculptures and weaponry.

You remember being obsessed with the supernatural as a child, even getting into some intense arguments about whether vampires or werewolves were better, but at some point the infatuation had faded away into passing fascination--you were almost envious that someone had been able to preserve their own childlike spirit so much that they created an entire museum for it.

The outside of the makeshift cathedral looked exactly how you’d expect: towering spires with windows of stained glass depicting angels, suns, and crosses. The inside, however, was so juxtaposingly modern that it slapped you in the face the minute you entered. The walls were painted black with maroon accents, effectively maintaining a gothic theme. Though yellow lights embedded in the ceiling lit up each hall, brass sconces were still nailed to the walls, balancing two flickering candles each.

Everyone walked down a red velvet carpet that covered polished dark wood underneath and muffled their footsteps, the dull thumps somehow making the museum more ominous. Much like the exhibit you were in now, which was centered around witches, a single television hung at the far end of each exhibition room, ceaselessly playing a small, summarizing video of the creature’s origins.

As it murmured in the background about how witches and wizards were not the same thing, you inspected a broomstick that was supposedly owned by a witch from Salem. It floated in the air with two clear strings tied around either end just above a carved marble pedestal holding a gold plaque. The broom of Sarah Good, it read, caught and hanged in the Salem Witch Trials. Her descendants now live in New Orleans, the supposed location of a secret witch coven.

You licked your lips thoughtfully, moving onto the next artifact with vested interest. The next was a cat skull and on its plaque it explained-

Before you even got to read the words, you lost your footing and toppled over, crashing to the ground in a single heap of limbs.

Ow.

Groaning, you righted yourself back onto your butt, inspecting the untied shoelace that had sniped you. Several gasps rose around the room, but not for you.

The wooden stand holding the cat skull balanced now on a single leg, tipping over in slow motion. Crap!

You tried to scramble up onto your knees to catch the fallen display but before you could, a form blew past you in the blink of an eye and caught it in its tracks, righting it back on its four legs before recentering the cat skull.

A chuckle left the museum worker as he spun back to face you, piercing green eyes observing your fallen form. Well, piercing green eye--the other was covered by a tuft of black hair, just as spiky and wild as the rest on top of his head. As he smirked, you could see a hint of his canines, looking sharp enough to cut through skin. You blamed the sight on the lighting.

And on the obvious supernatural fetish.

The man offered a gloved hand to you, the rest of his form draped in a velvet black trench coat, and as he pulled you to your feet, you glanced at his ID tag. Kuroo Tetsurou, exhibit handler. Of course he would be on the lookout for clumsy visitors such as yourself.

Good thing, too, because you were like a bull in a china shop.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, half-avoiding your gaze because you were embarrassed and half because you were never too good at handling yourself like a normal human when it came to attractive men.

“Of course.” He held your gaze and hand for just a tad longer than was socially acceptable before letting go and stepping back. “Though, perhaps stay a couple feet back when observing the artifacts.”

Those “fangs” had to be fake.

The worker left you with one last chuckle and a wink before walking away, hopefully to never see you ever again. God, that was embarrassing! A small pout grew on your face as you flushed deep red, refraining from hiding your face in your hands because you knew that’s what everyone else in the room expected from you--you figured you’d entertained them enough for one day.

While glancing around for a hole to bury yourself and die in, you realized your tour group was long gone. The witch exhibit wasn’t exactly packed with people so you could easily tell your friends were gone as well.

Muttering a small curse, you made your way through to the exit, flinching. when the animatronic witch posed at the door cackled in your ear.

The dimly-lit hall was clear of people aside from a few stragglers searching for a room to inspect. As you made your way down the hall, voices floated out from each room, none sounding familiar. Each doorway had its own silver plaque positioned above, naming the topics of the room.

Centaurs. Genies. Unicorns.

The tour you had gotten tickets for stated that it wasn’t going to go into every room in the museum, but it would brush over the most popular exhibits. And if there was one thing you remembered, it was that the newly-renovated vampire exhibit was the main reason the group you traveled with was so large.

The museum had added an artifact that bolstered their popularity greatly--the supposed sarcophagus of Kozume Kenma, one of the leading vampires of the Nekoma Clan.

Vampires. There!

You speed-walked into the room, slowing your steps when you entered because you’d recently learned where traveling through an expensive exhibit without thinking would get you.

And yet, when you bursted into the room and saw a glimpse of Kanna’s black hair bouncing through the exit, you threw all caution to the wind.

“Kanna!” You zipped in between the red ropes restricting visitors from getting too close to the paintings, darting around glass cases holding blood-stained cloaks and taxidermy bats while waving your arms like that would somehow catch the eyes of someone with their back turned. “Kan-NUH!”

A wrinkle in the carpet launched you forward and you waved your arms wildly for balance.

If anyone had entered the room at that moment, they would have walked right out. You looked insane, like you were acting out your own rendition of monkey-turning-to-woman.

Your fall landed you against a table where a sharpened blade sat, pointed upward for show. One hand slammed against the surface of the marble while the other, in your panic, slid just along the razor-sharp edge.

Shock came first and you flung your arm away with a gasp, stumbling back and crashing into what felt like another table. You reached your bleeding hand back blindly to stable yourself while the other reached up to press against your racing heart.

The pain was finally kicking in and the break in your palm began to drip down your hand, leaking blood with ease. Your hand shook so bad you could barely feel it, numb with panic as you gasped for breath.

Finally, when your gaze stopped wavering in sync with the pounding of your head, you glanced over at the sword display. No blood seemed to stain the blade, but a large sign hung just in the background stating PLEASE DON’T TOUCH!

Definitely not a first for you.

You looked over your shoulder out of instinct for just a second, wanting to see what sat on the table you currently leant on to see what other rules you were breaking, only to feel your throat close up at the sight.

A mummy sat in a polished black coffin, carved of wood with details of vines, leaves, and finally a cat’s yowling face carved into the latch that hung over the cracked-open space. A bloodied half hand-print sat right at the head of the body, coloring the mouth area red while the rest of the wrapping remained an aged white.

“Shit!” you hissed with panicked eyes, lunging back and away. “Shit, shit, shit! Oh, I’m so fucked.” A large sign, even bigger than the flatscreen that played the story of the first vampire, read DO NOT TOUCH OR APPROACH. SARCOPHAGUS IS EXTREMELY FRAGILE.

The three underlines of each word hit you like a freight train and you almost gagged. Unlike your other little slip-ups, this one would seriously cost you.

There was no way the coffin didn’t cost more than your apartment and college tuition combined, and you were already toeing the line of serious debt.

Do I tell someone? Do I not tell someone and let myself get caught?

In terms of damage, the mummy looked totally fine. The small discoloring around the mouth was barely even noticeable from your ten-foot distance away, but the closer someone would get, the easier it would be able to see. Other random speckles of stains littered the wrappings, of course due to age, but in a museum for vampires? With red stains on the mouth of said vampire?

Someone would see. Eventually. But according to the sign, no one would get close to it for a while.

Maybe you would escape this scot-free.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and fished for a band aid in your pocket. Injuries were common so you always kept some on hand.

“You’re gonna be fine, YN,” you mumbled to yourself, fighting to tear open the wrapper. Your hands were shaking so badly it was almost impossible and tears stung your eyes. “You’re gonna be fine. Just take deep breaths.”

After five minutes of shaky fumbling and calm words, you finally just ripped the package in half and pulled out of the now-deformed band aid, slamming it over your wound and calling it a day.

Yesterday, you took four finals in four classes. Today, you damaged a fragile museum artifact that, if caught, would cost you thousands.

You were going fucking home.

You tossed your band aid wrapper in the trash with a huff, not noticing the single, stained paper fluttering to the floor just in front of the exit.

+++

Blood. Air.

Blood. Sweet, sweet blood.

Thirsty. Hungry.

Dark.

Pain.

Escape.

Hoarse wheezes was all Kenma could manage as he lay stock-still on a soft surface. Pins and needles pricked at his every limb and he almost groaned in relief because it meant he was alive.

His tongue was heavy as a rock and was dry as sandpaper but he could still taste the sweet flavor on his tongue. Metallic-like, it was both nourishing and yet not enough.

No, no. Definitely not enough. He needed more.

Twitching his finger was an exercise that if he wasn’t completely dehydrated would have worked up a sweat. Moving the rest of his arm made him wish his death had lasted.

But someone had blessed him with blood, with life, and now he had a debt to repay.

Kenma wasn’t like Kuroo. He followed the ancient laws of vampires, now matter how outdated they were. Born-vampires had one code, and that was that whoever gave you blood and therefore everlasting life, was your master forever.

This was code.

Kenma thought of Kuroo and how he’d taken blood from all kinds of people, an action that would’ve been called taboo by the vampires of old.

Then Kenma thought of Kuroo alone and wondered just where he was.

It was completely dark, and each muscle he moved seemed trapped in the same position. A loud rip split the silence that previously mingled with Kenma’s wheezing as he reached up an arm and patted at his face.

Trapped. Stuck. Wrapped in something?

“K…” Kenma tried to call Kuroo’s name, but even the first letter scraped at his throat hard enough that he gagged.

It was so dry. He needed more of the blood he’d given.

Just a drop would be a blessing.

“Ku…”

But he had to get out first.

If he knew one thing about Kuroo, it was that the man was loyal. If he knew another, it was that he was also immortal.

Because Kenma followed the ways of the code, he was the right hand man of the Nekoma Clan. Kuroo was the leader, but he knew to protect his own.

“Kuro...Kuroo.”

The pain was irrelevant. His hand still scratched at his face, slowly yet desperately as he ached to tear away the cloth. To see light for the first time in centuries.

Footsteps echoed miles away, perking Kenma’s ears.

“Kuroo...Kuroo.”

They drew closer and closer, ever so muffled through the wrappings that trapped Kenma in darkness.

“Kuroo...please.”

A hand batted away the one Kenma kept patting over his face and Kenma heard the zing of a blade.

“Kuroo…”

“Shh.” Kuroo’s voice urging Kenma to shut up had never sounded so melodic. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Kenma let himself relax, allowing Kuroo to cut through the thick cloths encasing his body like a cast. The latter cursed under his breath each time he sliced a bit too close to the skin, almost breaking it.

The process was long and painful. After coming back to life, Kenma suddenly had the urge to move, something he’d never had before.

Except he knew exactly why he needed to move. He needed to find them. Whoever they were.

Though eternal servitude was never exactly Kenma’s life goal, he knew it was an honor to be deemed worthy as someone worth eternal life. To be given such a gift was a sign that your life was meant to be spared.

When all the bindings split away and Kenma could open his eyes, a ringing burst in his ears accompanied by a pounding headache. He’d never known candles to burn so brightly, but maybe that was something of this new age. Or perhaps he was laying below a skylight.

Neither. The light source was a rectangular shape directly above, harnessing the light of a thousand white flames to make the room glow. It buzzed as well, or perhaps that was the few moths that flew around it.

“Kuroo,” Kenma reached a hand up to cover his eyes, “I have to-”

“Shh.” The older hushed him once more before holding a cup to his lips. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

The cup was dark and Kenma couldn’t see what was inside of it. Panic struck his heart and with a sudden burst of energy, he slapped the cup away from his face.

“NO!”

The cup flew, spilling clear liquid through the air before cracking against the floor with a splat. The older man in the room sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Kenma, come on. I know the dumbass laws and your dumbass willingness to abide by them. You know I wouldn’t force you to drink blood you didn’t want.”

Kuroo was right. Kenma trusted him to not force blood on him and he trusted Kuroo not to try and bring him back either. Kenma wanted his revival, if it were to ever happen, to be of someone else’s desire to revive him.

He’d just… panicked.

“I know.” His throat suddenly felt parched and sickly and Kenma returned his gaze to Kuroo’s face. “Could you…?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get another one.”

+++

“I’ll never let go, Jack.”

“Just move over on the door, bitch!” you wailed, sobbing into your ice cream and curling deeper into your blankets as the movie drew to a close. Tears ran down your face and half a tissue box sat in numerous crumpled-up balls on your coffee table.

To be fair, a large majority of them came from when you first got home from the museum. After throwing yourself a pity party, you decided to give yourself even more reason to cry by watching the Titanic movie over a bowl of ice cream.

Your phone sat beside the used tissues, occasionally lighting up with missed calls from your friends hours earlier. Texting felt like a waste of energy, and you could certainly tell them what happened tomorrow.

If you weren’t being arrested for damaging museum property at that time.

Even the thought sprung another nervous wave of tears to your eyes and you clicked off the movie, searching for another story to bawl your eyes out to.

Three loud knocks cracked at your door, making you flinch.

Probably Akira and Kanna, worried out of their minds.

“Guys,” you stood up and turned on your living room lights before walking to your front door, “I promise I’m fine. Something just happened today that really-”

But when you turned the knob, it was neither of your friends.

It wasn’t even female.

It was two guys, one looking vaguely familiar while the other was entirely unknown to you.

The first, significantly taller and with the same ruffled hair, was Kuroo. Just the sight of the museum worker made you want to jump out your window and onto the sidewalk ten floors below.

The other was shorter with blond hair just past his chin, the roots a dark brown. His eyes were glowing with a sort of anticipation but his face appeared otherwise bored.

Nerves began to dance under your skin and you shifted from foot to foot, your hand still on the door. You only realized you were biting your lip when both men drew their gazes to the action, and after that you immediately stopped.

“Uhh, y-yes?” You gulped and watched them both with flared nostrils, ignoring the way the blond’s eyes followed your throat. “Did you n-need something, offic- I mean sirs?”

The familiar one’s lips quirked, something akin to amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched your anxious movements. Yet, he never said a word.

Instead, the blond one stepped forward, somehow looking uncomfortable in a red sweatshirt and black sweatpants. There was an air of seriousness around him even as his face gave off a feeling of nonchalance.

Here it comes.

You tensed up your shoulders and closed your eyes, waiting for the words of your doom.

Instead, cold fingers grabbed the hand you had limp at your side and you felt a softness brush over the back.

You opened your eyes once more only to see a small smile with fangs peaking out as the blond pulled his lips away from your hand.

“I am forever indebted to you, Mistress.”

“What?”

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