#also this place is like 'you absolutely need to be able to life 50 pounds. idc what your position is'

[midnightcarp]

*looks at job listings while at my job*

[ajax-b1ue]

So I donated plasma for the first time yesterday? I’d love it if I could say I’m in a place in my life where I’ve got the time, energy, and financial stability that this is just out of a sense of altruism, but admittedly I also need the money. That said, it occurred to me that it might not be a terrible idea to talk about the process and what all was involved in case that’s something that anyone else was considering. I donated at a CSL plasma center; I imagine some details are a little different with other companies, but probably most of it still applies. Anyhow, rest is under the cut, long post ahoy~

For the curious, plasma donation is different from whole blood donation in multiple ways. For starters, yes, you can get paid for it. Also, you can donate plasma much more frequently than whole blood— plasma is the liquid part of your blood, which your body can replenish within a few days. In contrast, red blood cells take a couple of months. In plasmapharesis, the machine does draw blood, but it then centrifuges/filters out the cellular components, and returns the blood cells to you. The other nice thing is that it only ever draws off about 8 oz (1 cup) of blood at a time before it returns the whole components to you— which means, if you’re like me, and prone to passing out when donating blood (which is the reason I don’t donate whole blood anymore), plasma donation was a lot easier and didn’t make me feel woozy.

So, first thing I did was check out the company’s website and download their app. From what I gather, regardless of what company you’re looking at, they’re only going to accept donors within their ‘collection area’ (I believe to keep people from attempting to register with more than one program/center), so first thing to check is where the closest donation center is for you. I live in a city, so that was fairly easy for me; if you live further away from a center, you may need to call/email to double check that your address falls within their area.

I will say that the websites/CSL app were actually pretty helpful with information on qualifications, or more specifically, what would disqualify a donor. The major standout ones are age, weight, recent tattoos/piercings, and for anyone AMAB who has sex with other AMAB people. Unfortunately that last one I think is a holdover from the AIDS pandemic, and plain old institutionalized homophobia. :\ Tattoos and piercings have to be older than 4 months, and you have to be 18 years old. (Minors weren’t actually allowed in the building at the center I was at.)

As for weight, you have to be minimum 110 pounds; this one is a legal requirement, so it’s going to be the same no matter what company you’re looking at. What’s not as clearly laid out is that if you’re lower-weight, they can’t take quite as much plasma from you, which also means your compensation is lower. For my center (and, it does vary by region, even within the same company), people from 110-149 lbs receive $90 for the first three donations, $40 for the 4th-6th donations, and $90 for the 7th and 8th. So, up to $570 for the first month. By contrast, anyone 150+ lbs receives $100, $50, and $100 (or $650 total) on the same schedule. (This is the payment structure for the first 45 days only, if you donate 8 times within that timeframe; I suspect the payment amount is reduced after that.) 

Which brings me to donation schedule— it’s totally voluntary, and there is no minimum schedule or commitment. Obviously they want people to donate as frequently as they’re safely able to, and to become regular donors instead of donating just once or twice, but there’s absolutely no reason you can’t do exactly that. You can only donate 2 times within any 7 day period, and you can’t donate on successive days. (So, my first donation was on a Thursday; I can’t donate again until Saturday, and if I do, I won’t be able to donate a third time until next Thursday.) Again, this is a legal requirement, and why you're not allowed to double dip by donating to multiple programs— this one is a safety thing, for the donor.

Another safety thing is making sure you 1) are very hydrated and 2) ate a solid meal beforehand. You’ll also want to have gotten a good night’s sleep, and not had anything caffeinated within the last few hours. And, when I say hydrated, they want you to drink an extra 4-8 cups of water within the 2-3 hours before you donate. I managed 4 before I started to feel like I would make myself sick if I drank more, but took a water bottle with me. Side note, don’t chug water, you need to space it out so your body can actually absorb as much of it as possible, but you do really want to have that extra water on board, because they are going to be removing a decent amount of fluid from you.

Okay! About the process of becoming a new donor and the actual plasmapharesis:

Show up at the center (no appointment required at CSL).

Bring your driver’s license and social security card. Or, do like me and make it to the center, realize you forgot your SSC, and drive all the way back home to get it. :’)

Get into the new donor line; tell the person at the counter you'd like to donate, provide IDs. Get instructed to go to a private booth for purposes of verbally confirming that you are literate, and what spoken, written or sign language(s) you communicate in.

Get given a packet to read/video to watch that contains a boat load of info about the process, qualifications, etc. (I had the option to watch the video on my phone by scanning a QR code.) Sign forms indicating that I’ve been provided this info and understand it, and consent forms.

Move to new donor waiting area. Sit and wait.

Continue waiting.

Wish you had realized how long the wait would be, because those 4-8 cups of water are catching up with you and now you really need to pee. (Keep an eye on the people who arrived before you; if there are still people who were there earlier, you’ve probably got plenty of time to run use the bathroom. But that’s part of the reason why it’s good to bring a water bottle, so you can stay hydrated while you wait.)

Finally get called back to a private booth to start being processed.

Go over a lot of the same information that you reviewed at the beginning. This will not be the last time. They are very insistent that you know and understand all of this.

Fill out a 64 point questionnaire confirming your eligibility. (A couple of these are literally quiz questions, where basically you are confirming that you know and understand the info.) Get your picture and digital fingerprint taken.

Once overall eligibility is confirmed, receive a donor number and donor Visa card; this is where compensation will be directly deposited after each completed donation.

Move on to “day-of” screening— things that will not disqualify you from donating, but can cause you to be deferred to come back another day (or week, or month, depending on what it is). This includes weight check, temperature, blood pressure, and a finger-stick (using a spring-loaded autolancet and a pipette, the tech will get a few drops of blood from your finger; it pinches/stings, but it’s not terrible) to check hematocrit and protein levels. If you’re underhydrated, this is where it will show and you can get deferred for the day. Also like... if you have a fever or are visibly sick, which... yeah, please don’t try to donate body fluids if you’re sick.

Also get checked for cuts/scrapes, plus needle injection sites, new tattoos and piercings. (I was asked to remove my jacket and show the tops and undersides of my arms, including lifting my arms up. Might have shaved if I’d realized that but oh well. :’D ) Cuts or scrapes won’t disqualify you, so long as they’re scabbed over and not inflamed. New tattoos, touch ups, or piercings will get you deferred (4 months from the date that you got them).

Get asked how many previous tattoos and piercings you have and where. See the tech’s palpable relief when you don’t have sleeves. Relief becomes understandable when you realize that she has to record and describe every tattoo and piercing you have.

Once day-of eligibility is confirmed, get sent to Medical waiting area.

Start getting hungry, because you’ve been here for a couple of hours by now. Open up a pack of fruit snacks, because if this is anything like waiting for the initial screening—

Get called back to an exam room almost immediately.

Debate stuffing entire handful of fruit snacks into your mouth at once or searching for a ziploc baggy in your bag to put them into.

Begrudgingly decide to be an adult.

Physical exam with the medical staff. Very routine— things like listening to your breathing and heart with a stethoscope, checking whether or not being struck in the tendon below your knee will make you accidentally kick the doctor, shining a light in your eyes to make sure your pupils dilate, and checking inside mouth with a tongue depressor.

Sheepishly explain that you were eating fruit snacks right before you came in here when the doctor wonders why your tongue is unusually red.

Also get asked to lay down on the exam table so they can palpate your liver and spleen. Also also get arms checked for cuts and injection sites again— and this time, ankles as well.

Really, really wish you had shaved recently. But like, it’s long pants weather, c’mon.

(The doctor was not phased in the slightest, to her credit.)

Get sat down to review and verbally confirm same information that you’ve gone over twice already. You will know all of this. Resistance is futile.

Review any and all medications you take with the medical staff, both over-the-counter and prescription. There are only a handful of meds that can cause you to be disqualified/deferred, but you still want them to know any meds you are on, as part of signing up is consenting to potential random or spot-drug tests. (I was not drug tested, just had to agree that they had the right to potentially request a drug test in the future, and that if I were to decline I would be disqualified/deferred.) For any of my fellow ADHD kids, you definitely need to let them know in advance if you take Adderall, as that will give a false positive on a drug test for meth.

(I discussed this with the doctor, including whether or not they needed a letter from my psychiatrist or a copy of the prescription; at least for CSL, I was told that they didn’t need any of that, that it’s basically on the honor system. So long as they know about it in advance, then I’m good to go. They did ask what conditions my various medications were being prescribed for; I don’t generally mind telling people that I’ve got ADHD and anxiety, but just as a heads up. Also, if you take birth control pills, don’t forget to mention those— I don’t, and the doc double checked that with me, but she didn’t ask me to explain.)

Finish with the physical, and finally (finally!) get cleared to go over to the donation floor. (Personally, I’d been at the center for about 3 hours at this point. I was told that new donors do usually end up having to spend a couple of hours in-processing on their first visit, though it seemed like this was a little longer than usual, but there was a decent amount of people there that day. Just, be aware, first time is like, a half-day commitment.)

Realize that there is also a line to wait in here, for returning donors. Die a little inside.

Be shown mercy by the medical staff, and be placed at the front of the donor line. (This is for first-time donors, since it’s such a long process to get to that point, they let you jump the line.)

Get called over to one of the donation beds— oh my god we’re actually getting to describing the actual process of having the plasma drawn, it’s happening—

Confirm your name and birth date, if you’re allergic to latex, iodine, bandaids, or nickel, and what arm you’d like to donate from. (I went with my non-dominant arm, since it was my first time and I wasn’t sure how sore/fatigued that arm might be later; I also was asked to remove that arm from my jacket.) Go over donation floor rules— no eating or drinking (including water) on the donation floor, no talking on a phone. Watching videos, texting, playing games, listening to music, reading, etc, is all perfectly fine and encouraged. (They did have complimentary wifi.)

You are kindly requested to not nap during the donation.

If you fall asleep, they are forced to assume that you have passed out and respond appropriately. Please don’t.

A pressure cuff is used on donation arm, along with you being asked to clench your fist multiple times then hold it clenched, so the tech can identify where exactly your vein is on the inside of your elbow. (My tech used some kind of tool to make a shallow circular indent in the skin on the spot he identified as the best injection site, which was a new one to me.) The pressure cuff stays on for the whole procedure, FYI, though it’s not engaged the whole time.

Iodine scrub for 30 seconds on the injection site, then 30 seconds to dry.

Needle is inserted at injection site, into the vein.

...into the vein.

Third time’s the charm??

Get asked if you mind the tech trying your other arm. Sigh internally but agree.

Before the tech pulls the needle, a supervisor happens to walk by and they ask if they want to give it a try. Supervisor manages to find the vein after another two attempts.

Look I’m sorry I don’t control how big my veins are.

Joking aside, very important note: the needle is large, and it is rigid. If you’ve had an IV before, this needle is larger than that, and many IV needles (or at least the part that gets left in after the initial injection) are plastic and flexible these days— this one is not. I was implored to please, please not bend that elbow, because 1) it would feel incredibly unpleasant and 2) it would push the needle through/blow the vein, and the procedure would have to be stopped immediately. Plus, there would be a very high likelihood I would have to then get stuck in the other arm anyways, so they could return whatever blood cells were still in the machine at that time.

Warnings aside, I do want to note— being very honest and up front, the needle was not particularly comfortable to have put in. Having it inserted was a little painful. (It also took multiple attempts for them to find the vein, which was definitely a contributing factor.) That said, the tech was very gentle, constantly checking with my to see if I was okay, and told me to let him know if it was hurting at all. My answer was, truthfully, no more than I would expect from having a needle in my arm. Despite the trouble in finding my vein (which, that’s not the first time that’s happened), I could tell that he wasn’t digging around with the needle, and seemed very skilled and professional. There was no point where I was concerned that he wasn’t experienced or didn’t know what he was doing. And, once the needle was successfully in, it only took a minute or so to get used to; I was always aware that it was in, but like, only in the “very mildly uncomfortable” sense. It was not painful at that point, or during the blood draw or return. It was definitely more uncomfortable to not be able to move or flex my arm for an extended period of time.

And now more waiting! Except at least this time, it’s at least while the plasmapharesis is actually happening. You’re hooked up to a machine that does all the drawing, filtering, collecting, and returning, but there are techs circulating on the donation floor and checking on you every few minutes. (There was always a tech within eye/ear shot.)

The machine also controls the pressure cuff; when the machine is actively drawing blood, the pressure cuff will be engaged, and you will clench and unclench your fist to help keep blood pumping to that vein, and help avoid the vein collapsing. (For me, the tech also lowered the maximum collection speed on the machine to 85%, because my vein was, in his words “tiny”, although once we started he noted that I was getting a very good flow rate.)

When the machine is filtering/returning blood cells to you, the pressure cuff will relax, and you can relax your hand/arm. The way it was told to me was, “when the cuff’s working, you’re working— when the cuff relaxes, you relax”.

I’d been told the process can take 30-60 minutes, depending on how much plasma they’re collecting from you and the rate of flow. Since I’m in the lower weight group, they were collecting a slightly smaller amount from me (you can see the collection bottle hooked to the machine, mine only got filled about 75-80%), but as noted above, they turned down the machine’s speed for the same reason. In total, my donation time was 57 minutes.

One thing that momentarily caught me off guard, and was probably the most uncomfortable part of the actual donation itself— before you totally finish up, the machine will give you some saline to help replenish some of the fluids/electrolytes it’s drawn off. The saline is cold as fuck. The only reason I realized I was getting saline at all was because my arm was suddenly really frickin’ cold, and I was getting concerned, until I happened to glance over at the machine and saw the “administering saline” text. This was only a couple of minutes at the end, fortunately, but it still would have been nice to know, especially since that arm was out of my jacket.

Finishing up: once the machine totally finishes, another tech comes over, double checks that you haven’t developed an allergy to latex in the last hour, puts a piece of gauze over the injection site, has you hold pressure on it while they remove the needle, then wraps your elbow with a stretchy bandage to hold the gauze in place. This bandage is supposed to stay on for 2+ hours.

Sit up, carefully. I didn’t feel woozy, which I take as a good sign, but I’d say better safe than sorry. Verbally confirm that you feel alright, whether or not you have any last questions, and get informed what the soonest day you’re able to donate again is.

And that’s it, you’re done!

Well more or less.

Aftercare instructions: drink a few bottles of water throughout the remainder of the day to help rehydrate, go have a good meal, no heavy lifting for at least a few hours. (The bandage prevented me from bending my arm completely while it was on anyhow.)

When you do go to remove the bandage, if your needle site is still oozing a little (which is possible, there is a small amount of anticoagulant added to the blood that is returned to you), you should put the bandage back on for another hour or two. Mine was not still oozing, but the clot that formed was stuck to the bandage, and they do very specifically tell you not to pull off any scab or clot on the injection site; I ran warm water in the kitchen sink and held my arm under the water for about 30 seconds to soak the bandage off. Just to be safe, and just in case I had accidentally removed too much of the scab, I went ahead and put some antibiotic ointment and a regular bandaid over the site (since the original bandage was soaking wet at that point).

But, that’s $90-100 dollars that just got added to your prepaid donor card, once the donation’s completed! So that’s nice!

Anyhow, there you go! Sorry that was a novel, but— I like to know what to expect when I’m doing new things, especially by myself, and I figured on the off chance that this could give someone an idea of whether or not they want to try donating, I felt like it was worth taking the time to type up.

As for whether or not I’m going to continue donating? Yep! Honestly, the excessive amount of time it took this go round was just because it was the first time. Now that that’s out of the way, I think the process will be: check in, answer questionnaire, do fingerstick/temp/weight/cuts-scrapes-and-new-tattoos check, go get in donor line, donate. So, way faster, maybe like an hour and a half. I was also told that Wednesdays, Sundays, and rainy days are particularly good days to come donate (at least at our center), because those tend to be slow days with little to no wait. For my second donation, I will also get a front-of-line express pass (I assume to incentivize people to actually come back for more than just the initial donation), so that’s nice too!

For future visits, I probably won’t take a water bottle or snacks inside with me, because the returning donor queue is on the donation floor, and I imagine the time between checking in and getting to go to that line (and the no food/no drinks area) will only be a few minutes, so, not much of a point. I’ll probably still have those things with me for afterwards, though, just stashed in my car.

But do make sure your phone is charged! And, that you know where the bathroom is. :D

Happy donating!

[unknownwriting]

Summary: simple hcs for when s/o’s on her period. part 2

Character(s): Portgas D. Ace, Sabo

Notes: parts 2 of the period hcs with my 2 biggest comfort characters🥳. also, more than 50 likes on my first post, yall guys are so nice 🥺

━━☆⌒*.

Portgas D. Ace

I miss Ace 🥲

Girl, this man is like your personal heating pad. The Mera Mera no Mi is such a blessing to have

Gets all of his information about periods and what not from Macro, it’s a known fact.

In a way he’s like Zoro and Sanji combined. Definitely has no idea what a period is, and definitely makes sure you feel comfortable.

Like Zoro, Ace has no idea what a period is and will ask a thousand questions (of course that’s when Marco has to pull him away and explain). Still doesn’t hug you because he’s scared your gonna pop. Even if you tell him over and over again that he’s just being childish. However the 2 of you still sleep together but only when Ace is out cold will you have to wrap his arms around you

Also like Zoro he’s gives you way more space than you need. The doesn’t do it to upset you he just knows that your moods with changes quickly. Once you tell him that you don’t mind him getting close to you, you’ll kinda wish you had that space again.

And now, Like Sanji. This man will drop anything and everything for you. And I mean everything. He has chores to do? He’s never liked them in the first place. He had a report to give? Well the others can always wait. The navy’s attacking? The others can handle it. He’s honestly so clingy, and you love him for it you really do, but after a while, a girl needs her space.

And Ace doesn’t see anything wrong with dropping all this responsibilities. He’s only the 2nd commander, the worst case that could happen is getting scolded by Whitebeard and maybe beaten up by the others. But it’s nothing he hasn’t already lived through. He’ll be fine.

In all honesty, in his mind (once again like Zoro) ‘Blood = pain’ and that thought of having to bleed for 5-8 days straight once a month. Is practically even to make him pass out. He’s does not want to be part of that and he’s grateful for it too. Not to mention his respect for women sky rocketed

You also definitely gain at least 5 pounds. You mentioned once that you like to eat, especially sweets, when your on your period. And Ace took that personally. He literally risks he’s life to steal you food from Thatch’s kitchen. Pointless though because the whole ship knows it. I mean who else would steal half the junk food and all the chocolate once a month. And plus the 2 of you might not be the cleanest eaters, walking out of y’all’s room with crumbs all over each other.

This is where Doctor Marco tries to intervene too. Mans can’t help it, he’s a doctor. Probably says the same thing as Law, “drink lot of water, stretch, and don’t eat junk food!” Both of you don’t see the problem, your gonna lose all the weight when you fight anyways.

All in all. Ace is the best. He’ll help out with everything: do your extra chores, steal food, and rest a hand right above the pain just like a personal heating pad. Definitely does not know the healthiest way to take care of you on your period but he doesn’t care. He’s goes around saying, “Your pain is my pain!” And he disregards any healthy things that Marco tells him and does what’s gonna make you happy. Because that’s all that matters.

Y’all do not understand how much I love Ace 😭🥺

Sabo

omg I got a thing for blondes. Like Sanji and Sabo. Yes sir 🙇🏼‍♀️

One word: gentleman. It’s like he has his own period.

Knows what you want even before you want it. Craving water? Sabo’s got like 3 cup. Want something sweet? Sabo was just finishing decorating a cake. It was honestly so weird, you can’t even count how many double takes you did. At first you though it was because it was your first period since yall started dating but when it continued for a lot longer then you thought, you figured something was going on. So taking your skills you learned from pervious missions, you decided to do some investigation.

surprisingly it didn’t take long, seeing how everyone practically just told you. Turns out Sabo was getting help from a certain red head. it was probably the cutest thing Sabo did for you, even if he was getting help from Koala. and plus, seeing the flustered look at his face when you found out was so worth it. 

Although he was getting most of his tips and tricks from Koala he made sure to try at learn a bit about period so even when Koala isn’t around he can help.

Dating Sabo means that your no small fry, you pose quite a threat to the navy and you easily rose in the ranks of the revo army. And with the revo army not stopping anytime soon, you don’t find a lot of time to relax. Unlike the others you can’t just stop your responsibility for a whole week. You still have reports to give, missions to plan, and new recruits to train. Sometime if your lucky you’ll be able to convince Dragon and the other to lighten your work load, but you can’t always count on it

That’s the main reason why Sabo took the time to learn a bit about that topic. So for the those time where you do have to go on missions, he’ll know what to do and how to handle it. Neither of you 2 could just stop working, so the both of you made sure to come prepared 

and After long missions, the first think yall do when yall get back is take a bath together. Even if you have to be on your guard a bit so Sabo doesn’t do anything suggestive, you love the bath nonetheless. You practically don’t have to do anything, Sabo washes your hair and rubs any sore spots and even afterwards will rub lotion on you. Girl, his hands are like the best thing in the world, period or not. ok i may or may not have a thing for his hands

Ace and Sabo share one brain cell try and convene me other wise but you can easily expect the similar things with Sabo. ‘My pain is your pain’. Stolen snacks, 10 times more cuddles than usual, surprised gifts. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t mind doing you paper work, seeing how you already have to fight, its the least he can do. But in all honesty, if he did, he’d be up for days 

By the time you met him he already had the Mera Mera no Mi, so definitely a personal heating pad. He will have you sit in his lap, while he keeps a hand right above the part that’s cramping so you can work in peace.

because you can’t really get much of a break, Sabo makes sure to use the medical stuff he learned. He makes sure you drink lots of water, you stretch, and you stay away from junk food. He still wants to make sure you are still in top top shape for missions. Although we all know Sabo is a sucker for you and will so steal some for you. 

Although if it was really up to him, the 2 of you would do absolutely nothing. and just lay in bed and cuddle but we all know that won’t happen any time soon. but in the mean time, Sabo tries to make your period less stressful even if its the little things. 

[voidstilesplease]

telltale

Word count: 1,592... the goal is less than 1k but- | Warning/s: none | Contains: HP Universe, magic, Slytherin!Stiles, Slytherin!Theo. Was going to make this a separate thing, but it's been a while for this tag, so.

---

Having a newly-turned werewolf best friend is taking a toll on Stiles and it's showing - but he's also not about to abandon Scott to his predicament. What kind of a best friend would that make him? So, he spends most of his time now helping Scott through the shift; in remaining semi-conscious even as the moon pulls at his sanity, and in adapting to the enhancements of his senses. Stiles even brews the monthly supply of Wolfsbane potion himself, in the old girl's lavatory in the presence of Moaning Myrtle - the worst tattletale ghost in history. Luckily, Stiles is an expert at bribery. You'd think it was impossible to bribe a girl who's been dead forever, but goes to show how little you know about the world.

Stiles knows what he's committing to is risky, and Salazar Slytherin would have sneered at his display of severe lack of self-preservation if he could, but it wouldn't make a proper Slytherin of him if he turned down a challenge he believes he can win. And he can win this. In fact, he's winning so competently he's perfecting his animagus form without proper training or legal consent - both of which are required for all witches and wizards who wish to become one. It's his way of showing solidarity to his best friend. If his friend transforms into an animal, then he transforms into an animal as well. Albeit, of all animals, he chose a fox, and foxes and wolves tend not to get along. But eh, that's all right. There hasn't been an accident anyway... yet. Also, he has always wanted to do something illegal just to prove that he can get away with it. He always does something illegal, yes, but, like, hosting illicit parties in the Slytherin Common Room has nothing on becoming an unregistered animagus, isn't that right? This thing with Scott is an excellent opportunity to broaden his horizon.

But it doesn't mean it's not without consequences on his social life, physicality (he's still fit, mind you, just lost a few pounds, is all), and most of all, his studies. He knows his chances of usurping the first rank from Lydia is borderline impossible, but he would damn well do everything not to be that far behind her. If he has to settle with second place, he will do so with a hairsbreadth of space between them and nothing more.

But goddamn if he isn't bedraggled, half-unconscious, bloody hungry, and terminally late to his potions class today. None of which would help his academic goal. He'll have to fight tooth and nail to get that 0.5 difference again.

He's lucky it's his Head of House, Professor Laura Hale's class and not Deaton's (who would purse his lips in disapproval, take 5 points from Slytherin, and look at him disappointedly the whole day), Professor Derek Hale's (he would huff and let his eyebrows speak the 10 points he'd take from Slytherin, and make Stiles the dummy for whatever curse they were demonstrating that day), or god forbid, Harris's (he would happily take 50 points from Slytherin without batting his eyelash then and there). Professor Laura would only turn her head away and pretend not to notice Stiles awkwardly sliding onto the seat beside his potions partner.

Merlin, his potions partner. Theo "I know what you've been up to and you better well know I'm gonna use it as leverage when the time comes" Raeken. He can't, for the life of him, guess how Theo knew about the animagus thing when he'd been so careful. Then again, Theo isn't a Slytherin if he doesn't have bags of tricks up his sleeves. Theo has repeatedly hinted that he's aware, and it's another thing that keeps Stiles up at night - well, more than usual. Theo already keeps Stiles up at night without trying. Theo hasn't blabbered yet - Stiles doesn't have to worry about that, at least - because a proper Slytherin would always go the blackmail route. Honestly, Stiles is only waiting for the shoe to drop. It's not like he doesn't have blackmail material of his own against his infuriating housemate. If Theo ever opens his stupid mouth, Stiles will call him out on his hypocrisy. Because apparently, there are two unregistered animagi in Slytherin.

Panting, he enters the room and immediately meets Professor Laura's eyes over the busy heads of his classmates. Wordlessly, she smoothly shifts her gaze away and turns her back to "check" on the progress (or lack thereof) of some Hufflepuff fellow as if she didn't at all notice Stiles by the entryway. Taking the chance (the hint is what it is), he crosses the room towards his partner and exhales loudly in his seat.

Theo is stirring the pot, the concoction quietly bubbling, as he smirks down at Stiles with an all-knowing look. "Long night?"

The git, the absolute bloody bastard. He probably slept the prescribed 8 hours, the prat. Albeit... an attractive one at that. But still the biggest git of all, of course. And, yeah, the most attractive git, loathe as he to admit it. But- Merlin, shut up. Shut up. He needs to bloody sleep and drop unconscious already. Or drown himself in firewhiskey and drop unconscious. For at least 15 hours straight.

Stiles sneers, looking for a clever slight to throw at Theo. He knows he can't insult his potions skills because he's actually decent at it, actually bloody good, the prick. And he can't pick on his appearance because, well, there is literally nothing to pick on about his outside everything, is there? Even that stupid slight graze on his left eyebrow looks fitting on him, like a fashion statement or something, and soon the Slytherin boys would go knicking themselves in their stupid eyebrows to copy him, to be half as echanting as him, to - Merlin. Shut up, for Salazar's sake.

Before Stiles can open his mouth, the onslaught of cedarwood, mint, and chocolate knocks his words back down his throat, and all he's able to do is inhale. Deep. With pleasure. With so much pleasure that it's an internal battle not to drop his eyelids and part his lips for a moan.

For seven years, Stiles has been haunted by it - sleeping so close to the boy who wears the scent that he can't eat a single bar of chocolate without thinking of Theo. It's both a blessing and a curse. Kinda cliche, but kinda true. Absolutely true. Also absolutely a secret.

So, he pulls his face into a sneer once more - as if his brain isn' melting into cedarwood, mint, and chocolate pudding - throwing a glare at his roommate. The long-time bane of his existence, long-time subject of his wanking fantasies (and disgustingly romantic daydreams, but Stiles is not about to address it because then he'll be admitting that shit's getting real), long-time crush. "None of your business," Stiles snaps. He'd like to add "eloquently", but it just isn't.

Theo only chuckles as if he already expected the reply. Or because he is immune to Stiles's attitude after dealing with it for years. Whichever it is, Theo's infuriatingly unaffected. It's so bloody distracting. He's so bloody distracting. Especially to a sleep-deprived Stiles who hasn't had enough rest, meal, or wank for far too long than reasonable.

"Well, make your tardy ass useful then and tell me if the potion smells like it's a flawless brew," he cocks his head sideways, lips slanting to an obnoxious smile, and adds, "Though, I already know it is."

Stiles scoffs (while he inwardly sings praises, because, damn if he isn't hot. Merlin, he needs to jerk off. Twice, in a row. Then drop unconscious. Wake up for dinner and masturbate twice more before bed most preferably). He glances down at the swirling mist coming from the pot and slides his unimpressed gaze back to Theo. "If I can smell anything at all over the entire bottle of cologne you poured on yourself today."

Theo looks taken aback for a moment, five heartbeats if Stiles is not wrong (he isn't) before his face breaks into the biggest, brightest grin Stiles has ever seen him make. Then he laughs heartily, genuinely; his eyes look extraordinarily joyful, and his neck even starts flushing. Stiles would've preened (he totally does inside. He caused that smile, okay?) if he didn't think that he probably did something embarrassing based on the absolute glee in Theo's reaction.

"Well," he drawls, still freakishly happy, like what in Merlin? He's a sight, yeah, bloody gorgeous, but Theo's happiness is usually in tandem with Stiles's distress, you see. It's perfectly rational to be suspicious. Then, Theo pins Stiles with a smug and satisfied look, saying, "I'm glad to know that's what amortentia potion smells like to you."

The statement gives Stiles a pause - more than a pause, he freezes - and he gapes while processing it. It doesn't take more than a few seconds for it to hit him.

Amortentia. Love potion. Today's task is Amortentia - a potion that smells different to each person, depending on what attracts them. And he's just announced that the air around him is basically marinating in Theo's bloody cologne. Salazar bloody Slytherin.

Stiles never imagined ever stooping so low but let it be known that what he does next, he will bring to his grave as his biggest disgrace.

Taking out his wand swift as lightning, he points it to himself for the easy way out. With a murmured spell, he grants his wish and knocks himself unconscious.

His idiocy is future Stiles's problem now. He'll stay bloody asleep for 15 hours straight, thank you very much.

~•~

steo a-z: part 20

[fredweesleyismyslut]

Fred & George Weasley x reader Poly!headcanons

A/N:

Okay, so this might suck really really badly but bare with me I haven’t really written many headcanons before and me being the talkative little pig I am I ramble too much because there’s so many thoughts flying around and then I end up writing a whole bunch so I’m sorry and I will definitely try to improve in writing more headcanons but for now...I hope you enjoy!!!!  

request: Hello if you write for poly relationships could you please do nsfw and sfw headcanons of the Weasley twins x chubby slytherin reader who is just the purest thing on earth and she wears cute skirts and resses in pastel colours and loves cute plushies pretty please?

SFW

 Okay okay so, everyone is very surprised first year when you’re placed into Slytherin.

This is because during the train ride you just seemed so pure you were wearing your favorite pastel colored dress and looked basically like a real life doll

Essentially you were the human embodiment of an angel and no one could imagine you hurting a fly

You met the Weasley twins on the train ride and thought they were funny and as you were placed into Slytherin they both shared glances with each other clearly surprised as most thought you’d be a Hufflepuff

Well, yknow, as they say don’t judge a cover by it’s book

You were, however, the nicest Slytherin, you were constantly helping others, giving compliments as you passed people in the halls

Anyways, let’s get to the juice details now, you stayed friends with Fred and George all the way up to your fifth year, when they both started acting weird around you

It was as if they both couldn’t be around you at the same time, or else it was as if they were competing for your attention like two cats

Then, one fateful day, they came up to you at separate times and confessed to you, you spent the whole day thinking, stressing, not able to focus on your studies, until finally your friend asked, “What’s wrong?”

“How do you pick between your two favorite things, like let’s say you want cookies but you also want to have the yummy pastries on the side as well?”

Her response, sent a bell ringing through your head, “Why not both?  I mean is there a reason you have to choose?”

As soon as she said that you shot up, “I gotta go do something.”  You found Fred and George and pulled them aside, “Do I have to pick between you two?  Because I love you both...and I don’t want one without the other…”

The twins shared a glance with each other, eyes glinting with mischievous, as they responded in unison, “Yes, we quite like that idea, darling.”

 Since then, you were dating both  boys, whenever, you had classes together, they would send little notes flying your way ranging from cute things like, “You look wonderful today, y/n.” “You look great in that dress.”  

- You could tell apart the twins easily, unlike everyone most of the time, which resulted in them trying to play tricks on you a lot

You would play along for a bit before finally saying, “I can tell you two apart ding dongs, I’m not your girlfriend for no reason, now stop it or I’m ignoring you both for the rest of the week.”  After that threat, they would immediately stop, begging for attention

On days, that you were feeling down about yourself because you didn’t look like the other pretty, popular girls they would cheer you up

They would bring your favorite treats, snuggle you between them, and say sweet things like, “Well, you look absolutely divine, y/n.  And we love you, we prefer you this way it’s perfect for both of us.”  Then, they would immediately start to tickle you, till eventually you accidentally kicked one of them off the bed then they’d burst in laughter

They are also especially protective of you knowing how kind and pure hearted you were and get quite heated if anyone insults you.  As soon as someone even utters an insult your way it’s like their ears twitch and they turn around immediately, defensively standing in front of you ready to throw a punch.

Due to this there have been plenty of times you had to hold them back from beating someone to a pulp, and having to calm them down in a corner telling them it’s fine to which George responds, “It’s not fine.  They’re insulting you and honestly you shouldn’t be fine with it either.  You shouldn’t be fine with them walking over you because imagine if someone said stuff about us, you’d be angry right?  You should be that angry when someone says that to you too...but we won’t go throwing punches if you don’t want us to?  Right, Fred?”  As Fred huffs before nodding and pulling you closer to calm his anger.

Dates with the boys are usually very light hearted you would go down to Hogsmeade and eat snacks together, or they’d set up a little picnic for you with cute foods that they tried, keyword tried, to make knowing that you like cute things

They also buy you cute plushies or clothes that they think you’d like and bring it on your dates saying, “It reminded us of you so….we got it”

Next thing you know, you have like 50 different plushies crowded in your room and you don’t know how to nicely tell them to stop bringing you so many plushies because it’s too cute but eventually one of your roommates tells them off when the plushies start to fill up on their side of the room too

One time they made cookies which were very cute, but almost broke your tooth off as you took a bite, resulting in you having to go to Madam Pomfrey

After that incident, they usually just buy the snacks or have their mother send them food as you love her cooking as much as she loves you especially because you keep her troublemakers in check

Sometimes though they will purposely make nasty things to see if you’d either pretend to like it and keep eating or actually tell them off, it’s their little mini social experiment/prank on you, which you catch on eventually, and whenever you notice that evil glint in their eyes you purposely play along and make sure they eat their nasty food first to see how long it takes till they break 

Basically, these boys are just really sweet and treat you like you’re a freaking empress 

NSFW

Now onto the spicy spicy details….

Fred usually initiates the contact, as he does with their pranks

He’s more so the dominating one as George follows along or sometimes watches before he jumps in, not able to handle the teasing you give him

Anywho, whenever you’re feeling down, especially being self deprecating, they both take you and show you just how much they love you, let me paint a picture:

As said, Fred usually initiates contact, you’ll be studying in the library and he’ll slide his hand up your thigh, watching as you shiver slightly from the contact goosebumps rising on your skin

Nonchalantly he asks, “Is it cold in here, darling?”  Playing his game you reply, “Nope.” and smile smugly

This will, of course, set off his slightly competitive spirit as his hand goes further, tracing the outline of the fabric covering where you need the most friction

Then George comes into play, being just as mischievous he’ll play his brother’s game, sliding his hand up your other thigh as they both continue to stare at their books as if potion ingredients were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world

A slight moan escapes, as Fred’s finger starts circling your clit, wetness pooling in your center as they both tsk, “Y/n, you’ll have to be quiet, we are in the library after all.”  

Anywho, ahem ahem, there’s usually a cycle you have going to make sure everyone gets the equal amount of attention, first it’ll be you and Fred as George, next you and George as Fred, lastly, all three of you

Fred will be pounding into you relentlessly, to blow off steam, especially if they lost a quidditch game, as George plays with your clit as you suck on his cock.

However, rough or gentle these boys are the aftercare is to die for

It’s filled with cuddles and jokes as the boys talk about what pranks they’re working on or new things for their joke shop

They usually clean you up, offer to give massages, and even if you decline they’ll both caress your bunched up shoulders working out any knots, as they trace your skin softly with their lips

But be careful, sometimes they’ll offer you drinks but in reality, it usually has some type of thing they’re planning for their joke shop, so sometimes you might end up being a guinea pig(They do test it on themselves before they test it on you though they’re not complete monsters)

[seoulwhat]

Virus (#9)

Summary: With a bad virus going around and a strict dad that doesn’t want you out and about, your father’s guard watches over you and you can’t help but become fond of him. 

Pairings: Yuta x reader

Genre: SMUT with aftercare

Warnings: rape, virus, choking, death of a side character

Word Count: 13.5k

You looked through the glass as you continued to walk down the street. Those were about the prettiest high heels you'd ever laid eyes on. They were a deep red, velvet and the wedge of the heel had a little heart on the corner. You HAD to have them. You walked inside the store with your arms filled with your other shopping bags and approached the employee.

"Please tell me you have those red heels on the display window in a size 8," you nervously begged. The employee looked at you and noticed the other bags hanging on your arms. 

"We actually do and it's our last pair."

You bought the heels and walked out happily. You made your way home and placed all of your shopping bags on the floor with an accomplished smile. You walked to the kitchen for a glass of water when your house phone began to ring. You sighed and rolled your eyes, knowing that the only person who calls your landline was your father. 

"Yes, dad?" You answered the phone. 

"I need you to come to the company right now. I'm sending a driver to come pick you up." And that was the end of the call. It was unusually hostile. He normally said how much he loved you and said goodbye before hanging up. 

Five minutes after the call, the driver, your dad sent to get you, rang your doorbell. You opened the door and walked out. The driver, who you knew as Sonny, followed right behind you and opened the door to let you in. Once Sonny was inside, you spoke. 

"Why does my dad want to see me?"

Sonny looked at you through his rear view mirror and shrugged. "I don't know. I was just ordered to get you and wasn't given a reason why."

Finally approaching your destination, you got out of the car once Sonny parked. Your dad's bodyguards followed you closely as you entered the building and approached the door that led to his office. Another one of his workers opened the door for you and you walked inside. The red walls were dimly lit by the lamps he had in the room. He was sitting at his desk, his arms crossed with attitude. An unfamiliar man dressed in all black stood nearby, making no eye contact with you. 

"What happened? Why did you need me to come here?" You asked right off the bat. 

He sighed before speaking. "How have you been?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. "Uh, good."

"What's been keeping you busy?"

You hesitated to answer. It somewhat seemed like he was trying to trick you to say something with his questions. "My puzzle that you got me."

"Anything else?" He said as he put a toothpick in his mouth. 

You shook your head in reply. 

"Want to tell me what you were doing shopping at a time like this?" He threw down several photos of you walking in and out of different stores. They were all taken that day. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at how closely your dads men watch you. 

"I just bought a few things. It's not like I came in contact with anything," you said and took a seat on one of the chairs in the room. 

"Did you get tested today? How do you know you didn't come in contact with the virus and brought it here to my company?"

You snorted. "I'm pretty sure if you thought I came in contact with the virus, you wouldn't have asked me to come over."

"Test her," your dad spoke to one of his men in the room. The man nodded and quickly got out a kit and took a large and long cotton swab out. This wasn't the first time you've been tested. You already knew how it happens.

The man got the swab and roughly shove it up your nose and twisted it around before pulling it out. He mixed a few chemicals together and put the swab in it. The chemical changed to a pink color, indicating that you tested negative. 

"I told you," you said. 

"Y/n, this virus is not funny," your dad said. 

"I know it's not. I'm not laughing."

"Then why aren't you taking it more seriously? So many people have died globally because of the virus and you're out here shopping as if people can't carry it. Not only that, but you didn't even think to wear the mask I got you or the gloves. And thanks to you, I made sure every store you shopped at got closed down. They shouldn't even be open during this pandemic."

You crossed your arms and huffed. "You're so annoying. It's literally not that serious. If it was that serious, the country's government would call for a lockdown period. But they don't. You know why? Because it's not that bad. People are dying because some countries don't have the supplies to help people get better," you spoke. Ever since the virus started, everything your dad did was to avoid the virus. You never saw it so seriously and you didn't understand why your dad did. 

"Okay, well since you don't find it as serious as I do, I'm going to send you off to the Flower."

You uncrossed your arms and sat up. "Don't make me go there."

Your dad shook his head. "I've already planned it. You're going to stay there until this virus has either been eradicated or it's controlled."

"Dad, you can't make me stay there. I will go insane," you said in a low voice. 

"I can make you stay there and I will. Everything you own is being transported from your house to the Flower as we speak," he said getting up. 

"And what if I leave?" You said, testing him. 

"That's what Yuta is for," he said simply. You grimaced at the name as you stared at your dad. 

"What the hell is a Yuta?"

Your dad pointed to the man in the room that failed to make eye contact with you. He was standing still as much as he possibly could with his hands behind his back. "Yuta is from Japan and he's a trained ninja. I thought it was really stereotypical but he was able to outfight all of my men. So I'm going to have him be your bodyguard, keeping you in and keeping other people out."

"You're joking. This man looks like a twig but he can outfight everyone in this building? You're lying," you said in disbelief. You were physically larger than the man. Not by height, but you outweighed him by at least 50 pounds. 

"You'll see if I'm really lying when you try to leave the Flower. Anyways, here are the protocols as follows: Sonny will drop you and Yuta off. You are free to wear whatever I bought for you in the house or you can wear your clothes. You are not allowed to have any sexual relations with Yuta, and I also told him the same thing. He is my worker and you should respect him as such."

"Sexual relations? What kind of person do you take me for?" You shouted in offense. 

"I've known you for 24 years and I've seen how you've tried to seduce my men to get your way. But you won't with Yuta. Anyways, as I was saying. Although we have a grocers one floor below, you will not be able to shop in it. I will send Jaehyun to do the shopping for you whenever you feel like you need groceries. Other than that, you have no other reason why you should leave the Flower. You no longer attend school and you are out of a job so you can busy yourself with the things at the house."

"This is not fair," you said rolling your eyes. 

"Life's not fair, honey. Say that to the millions of people with the virus that wish they could breathe as easily as you can."

You sat in silence on the chair. You eyed Yuta up and down, wondering if he really can defend you if that needed to happen. Many people in the past have tried breaking in to the Flower to get the expensive items inside the building, and at one point, it took all of your dads men to fight off a heist that went down. Fortunately, they intervened but many of your dads men got hurt. 

"Since I have nothing more to say to you, you and Yuta can now leave," your dad spoke. He sat back down on the chair and began to type away on his computer. You got up aggressively, trying to show your anger in your actions and slammed opened the door as you walked out. You walked towards the exit and Sonny was waiting there with the door open. 

"Sorry to hear about what happened, Miss," Sonny spoke. 

"It's fine," you said getting into the car. "It's not like it's your fault."

Sonny closed the door and a few minutes later, Yuta got in to the opposite side of the backseat. Sonny took off to the Flower and the ride was in silence. After an hour in the car, the skyscraper shaped as a large flower began to appear. You hadn't seen the building in about six years. When you turned 18, your dad bought you the building to live in. It was already stocked with several shopping stores and a market. You refused to live in the building guarded by your dads men so you rented out an apartment that was nice and simple. Although you loved shopping and expensive material things, you'd never found an interest in house luxury. 

Once Sonny parked in the underground parking, you got out of the car before he could open the door for you. You approached the elevator and waited for it to open. You took a deep breath before walking inside and Yuta walked in right behind you. The ride up to the top floor took longer than you expected. 

"How long have you been working for my dad?" You asked to break the silence. 

Yuta stood there, staring at absolutely nothing, and ignored your question. 

"Are you not allowed to talk to me?" You asked him, wondering if he even heard you the first time. Yet again, he ignored you. You sucked your teeth, annoyed by the man already. The elevator approached the penthouse and you took out your keycard and scanned it. The two of you walked in. Everything was still in place since the last time you saw it. Oddly enough, nothing was filled with dust. You assumed your dad had it cleaned beforehand. Many boxes of your things from your apartment filled the living room and you decided to just put those away later. 

You left Yuta at the entrance and began to wander around. You looked through the ceiling to floor glass windows and saw the whole city. It was really a beautiful sight and not something you often saw. 

The piano was still in the same spot. Your dad bought it thinking you were going to have time during school to play. Little did he know at the time that you weren't even going to live in the penthouse. 

You walked up the spiral staircase and approached the hallway. The walls were now painted a light pink, different than the ugly green it once was. You opened the door to your room and the wide space surprised you. It wasn't the first time seeing your room but you forgot how big it actually was. The bed was twice the size of your full sized bed at your apartment and the bathroom was inside your room. Having a bathroom inside your bedroom was a different type of luxury. 

You approached your closet and slid the doors open. A rainbow of colors flourished in the closet and you never actually took the chance to see the type of clothes your dad packed the closet with. Different name brands filled the closet, even brands you'd never even heard of before. All the clothes still had tags on them and you couldn't believe the prices of some of the items. 

"Dad wasn't kidding when he said he'd spoil me if I stood here," you spoke to yourself. You continued looking through the clothes, looking for a nice shirt to wear. You took out an indigo colored wooled sweater. It was super cute and soft. You took off the shirt you were wearing and put the sweater on, feeling like a soft blanket was hugging you. 

You opened the bottom drawers, looking for pants. There were about ten drawers and five of them were filled with jeans, all of them color coded. You specifically looked for a black pair and replaced your shorts with the jeans. You pulled out another drawer that had rows of shoes and put on a pair that looked like a normal pair of shoes. 

You walked back downstairs wearing your new clothes and you walked into the kitchen. You opened the fridge to see that it was completely empty, as was your stomach. 

"Is it okay if we order fast food and have them deliver it?" You asked Yuta. He was standing guard by the elevator door, once again staring at nothing. He didn't answer you, nor did he even make a movement. 

"I can't believe I'm stuck in a large house with no one to talk to," you said annoyed. You reached for the house phone and looked at the phone book that the building provided. You pressed the number on the phone and waited patiently. 

"Hello, Flower Grocers," the voice spoke. 

"Hi, can I speak with Jaehyun?" You asked. 

"Speaking," the voice said. 

"Hi, Jaehyun. This is Y/n," you said. 

"Oh my god! How are you? Why are you calling with the Flower's phone?" He asked. 

"My dad is making me stay here because of the virus," you huffed."

"Oh I see. Yeah it's getting pretty bad out there. But how can I help you?" He asked. 

"I don't know if my dad told you but he said I can't go grocery shopping in the building and that you have to do it for me. Do you think you'd be able to get me a few things and bring them up?"

"Of course I can. You know I'm always willing to help you out. Tell me what you feel like eating and I'll get the ingredients and a recipe for you."

You told Jaehyun you felt like eating cheeseburgers and the call ended. Your stomach growled loud at the thought of eating and you looked at Yuta. 

"What are you going to eat?" You asked him. No reply. 

"Are you allowed to eat?" You asked. Still, no reply. 

"Are you going to sleep or is someone going to be switching shifts with you?" You asked. Silence. 

"What if you have to use the restroom? Did my dad not plan any of this? As much as you'd like to not think about it, you're as much of a human as I am and you won't be working your best if you don't eat and sleep."

He continued to ignore you. You shrugged your shoulders. "Fine. Ignore me then. Let's see if you ignore me when you're tired and hungry."

The elevator softly chimed, indicating someone was approaching the top floor. You had a feeling it was Jaehyun and approached the elevator doors to allow him inside and to help him bring the groceries inside. As you stood by the doors waiting, Yuta aggressively pushed you behind him when the elevator dinged. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" You yelled at him. You tried to go around him but he kept getting in your way, stepping side to side to keep you from going around him. You used all your might and pushed him to the side, making him slightly stumble. You scanned your key card and allowed the elevator doors to open. 

"I'm sorry to tell you but this is not a robbery, you dumbass. Jaehyun is delivering my groceries," you shouted at Yuta as Jaehyun stood there inside the elevator. His eyes were somewhat wide and he didn't step out of the elevator. 

"I'm sorry. He's supposed to be my guard but my dad failed to tell me he's a complete moron," you said as you helped bring the groceries in. Jaehyun followed right behind you and placed the groceries on the counter. 

"Wow, this place is huge. I've never been in here," he said. 

"Really? Well you're more than welcome to come and visit me whenever you want. I literally have no one to talk to."

Jaehyun turned around and eyed Yuta who was back in his position. Jaehyun looked at you and raised his eyebrows. 

"He doesn't speak," you said out loud. "He's like mute or something."

"Well, that's not nice," Jaehyun said, helping you take out the food from the bags. 

"Well, neither is he. So I guess we're even," you said. 

The two of you continued to talk and you invited Jaehyun to stay for dinner. He helped you make dinner, prepping the lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions and the condiments for the cheeseburgers. You cooked the burgers and toasted the buns. 

Jaehyun approached you from behind to see how the burgers were coming along. "You're only making two?" He whispered. 

You nodded your head. "He ignored me when I asked him what he was going to eat. So I don't really care."

Jaehyun frowned. "You're being a little mean. Why don't you just make him one and leave it out over night for him. Maybe he doesn't want to eat while you're awake."

You took his words into consideration. Yuta was on the job and apparently he took his job seriously. You had to commend him for that. He was here protecting you but then again, he was also babysitting you. You sighed and rolled your eyes, knowing Jaehyun was probably right. You decided to make an extra cheeseburger. You put all the ingredients together and placed it in the microwave for later. You got your burger and Jaehyun's and brought the plates to the table where Jaehyun was seated already. 

"Mmm," he said sniffing. "It smells so good. I haven't had a cheeseburger in a while."

You laughed at his comment. "Jaehyun, we live smack in the middle of a large and busy city filled with vendors that make burgers everyday. Where have you been?"

"Working at the market," he said frowning. "I never have extra time to go out. I'm currently using my lunchtime to hang out with you because I didn't eat lunch earlier. I work as much as I can to get as much money as I can. It's hard living paycheck to paycheck, you know?"

You sympathized with Jaehyun. Unfortunately, you couldn't relate. You never financially struggled because your dad was always there to back you up whenever you needed the help.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea how much you struggled. Working for my dad, I assumed he paid all his employees well considering the amount of money he makes running his company."

Before you let Jaehyun reply, you got up and went to one of the boxes on the floor. Inside, you took out your wallet and pulled out the cash you had. You rolled it up, put your wallet back in the box and walked back to the table. 

You sat down and reached for Jaehyun's hand. You placed the roll of cash in his hand. "It's around $1,000. This is for always being a good friend to me since we were little kids. And this is also for caring more about other people than yourself. You're a good person who deserves more than what he gets."

Jaehyun looked into his hand and widened his eyes at the cash. He began to shake his head, bringing his hand towards you. You pushed his hand back. 

"You know who my dad is. I don't need the money. I want to help you and I'm willing to help you whenever you need it, okay? All you need to do is ask."

His eyes began to water and you could see how hard he was trying to hold in his tears. A large smiled formed on his face and he looked up at you. "Thank you so much for this."

You smiled back in reply and then looked down, knowing he must be uncomfortable crying in front of you. You picked up your burger and took a large bite out of it. 

Jaehyun sniffled and then laughed. "I can't believe I'm crying when I have a burger right in front of me."

You smiled at his humor and the rest of the night, Jaehyun seemed happier. 

Time ticked by and before you knew it, Jaehyun had to go home. He had to get up early the next day to open the market. You said goodbye to him as the elevator doors closed.

You cleaned up the table and did the dishes. There was not much else to do. It was getting late and it's not like you had anyone to talk to. It was barely 9 P.M. and you sighed.

You turned to Yuta who seemed to not have move a single hairbreadth since he went back in position. You stared at him and checked him out. He wasn't too bad looking. His hair curled around his neck and it was a light lavender color. Parts of his hair hung over his forehead just above his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, they were almond shaped but they were actually mesmerizing. His nose was long and curved at the tip, perfectly matching the rest of his face. And his lips, his lips were long and light pink. For a second, you thought you saw Yuta look at you and then look away. This made you want to approach him. 

You walked slowly towards him. You stared at him, wondering if he was even breathing. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by the man. He didn't speak, and you wondered why. You were finally face to face with him, allowing you to see his perfect and sculpted face up close. He was just as beautiful up close as he was far away. His hair looked so soft and you had the urge to touch it. 

"Can I touch your hair?" You asked. He didn't respond and continued to look as if he was upset about something. He didn't answer, so you slowly reached up, expecting him to stop you. But when he didn't, your hand came in contact with his hair. And it was soft. You moved hair strands out of his face and pushed it softly back. Like always, he didn't move a single bit and you wondered what would make him crack. 

"You know, I think I'd have a fat crush on you if you actually spoke to me," you admitted to him. It was like talking to a wall, so you weren't even remotely embarrassed to speak your mind. 

"Would you tell my dad if I tried to make a move on you?" You asked him. You laughed when he didn't respond. 

You took a step back away from him. "Don't worry. I won't. Or at least, I'll try not to. You know, a girl has needs and being stuck in this building with an attractive man that I can't have won't do me any good."

You walked away and into the kitchen. You opened the microwave and took out the burger you made for Yuta. You brought the plate over to him and placed it in front of his face.

"You know, I don't know what's wrong with you, but I made you a burger. I know you're going to get hungry. I'll leave it right here beside you just in case you want it, okay?"

You took out one of the kitchen chairs and place it beside him. You put his burger on top and made sure it wouldn't fall.

"Anyways, I'm going to bed. Do you want the lights on?" You asked. Yuta huffed like if you were getting on his last nerve.

"Hey! You made a sound! That's progress! I'll leave the light on for you. Goodnight and sweet dreams, Yuta."

A few weeks had passed and it was the same routine. Jaehyun would shop for you, he'd come up for lunch and then leave by evening. Yuta still hadn't said a word, although, he did eat the food that you would prepare for him. You weren't sure when he had the time to use the restroom or take care of himself because you had never seen him do it while you were awake. 

One early morning, you woke up and Yuta was not in his position. You furrowed your brows and wondered where he went. 

"Yuta?" You called out to him. The house was huge and you had no idea where he might be. Leaving the house also ran through your mind but Yuta seemed so uptight about following the rules, you doubted he left the building. 

You continued to walk around the house, looking for Yuta. He wasn't in the basement where all the wine was located. He wasn't in the attic where all of your old memories were located. He wasn't in any of the bedrooms, living room, game room, kitchen. You had no idea where else to check. 

You called out to him once more. "Yuta? Where did you go?"

You started to feel stupid, assuming that he probably did leave the house and you were there alone yelling out his name to no one. You heard footsteps from behind you and you quickly turned around. Yuta was walking out of the hallway that was across the living room, the one place you forgot to check. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and it was hanging unbelievably low. He was completely naked from head to toe and the only thing hiding his dignity was the towel. He approached you and your eyes widened more with every step he took towards you. The closer he got, the better you were able to see his defined abs, the water dripping down his body, his hair wet, and the great smell of men's body wash. He had a ball of clothes in his arms and as he approached you, he handed them to you. You looked up at him, confused and furrowed your eyebrows. 

"What's this?" You asked him. He didn't reply and instead just stared at you. He watched your movements as you scanned through the wad of black clothes in your arms. 

"Are these your clothes you were wearing before your shower?" You asked him. He closed his eyes momentarily and nodded. 

"Do you want me to wash them?" You asked him, assuming that's why he gave them to you. Again, he nodded in response. 

You smiled at him, happy that he wasn't just a stone standing by the elevator. You felt giddy inside knowing that he actually responded to you. It wasn't vocally but it was still a response nonetheless. 

You put his clothes in the washer and then went up to your room and grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweats that looked like could fit him. You brought them down to where he was waiting in the living room. You approached him and as he turned to look at you, a small glimmer hit your eye. You looked down to what it was and it was a belly button piercing. 

You gasped out loud and your mouth dropped open. "You have a belly button piercing?"

He didn't respond, only stared at you. You walked closer and bent over to see it clearly. He had a belly button piercing and a silver curved bar went through it. "Oh my god, you have a belly button piercing. That's so hot."

You kept staring at it and then you felt his eyes watching you. You looked up at him and he had no expression on his face. You didn't know what he was thinking. You stood up straight and took a step back. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I brought you some clothes that I think might fit you. You can wear these until your clothes are ready."

You handed him the clothes and he bowed before leaving. He walked back into the hallway that he came out from and your curiosity got the best of you. You didn't really know what was in that hallway. You knew there was one room down that way, but it was only a storage room. You followed the same path Yuta took and walked down the hallway. As you approached it, three doors appeared. Confusion crossed your face because you didn't remember there being three rooms in the hallway. You opened the one door that you were familiar with and like you thought, it was the storage room. You opened another door that was right across from it and it was an unfamiliar bathroom. You wondered where Yuta went. You thought he might have went back into the bathroom, where he showered, to put his clothes on. You approached the last door and opened it, slowly, and it looked like a bedroom. Your eyes instantly made eye contact with a naked Yuta and you gasped out loud and slammed the door. You walked out of the hallway and stood as far away from it as possible. 

Heat rose to your face and you fanned yourself. Your skin began to prickle with sweat, completely embarrassed that you saw Yuta naked. It was a sight to see but the fact that you saw the one and only man in the house naked made you feel flustered. 

Yuta walked out of the dark hallway wearing your clothes. They fit him quite good but that wasn't what was running through your mind. Yuta looked angry and he was approaching you quickly. You got scared and your feet quickly took you up the staircase. You could hear his footsteps right behind you and you ran to your room as fast as you could. You slammed the door and locked it. Yuta banged on the door a few times and then it went silent. 

He had a right to be mad. Here he was, professionally working, and his bosses daughter sees him naked. You decided to stay in your room for the rest of the morning and afternoon.

You didn't have much to do in your room. The only thing your room was equipped with was a large bed, a bathroom and clothes. You wished you had a tv but the only tv in the house was in the living room, and you weren't about to walk back out there with an angry Yuta that can fight off all of your dads men. You decided to just lay in your bed and wait for the time to pass by. Before you knew it, your eyes began to flutter close and you fell asleep. 

When you woke up, you noticed the sun was setting. You had no idea how long you slept because you didn't even know what time you fell asleep. You got up and out of bed and opened your door slowly. You looked down the hallway in both directions to see if the coast was clear to leave. You didn't see Yuta so you made your way out. You walked down the stairs on your tiptoes and scanned the living room as you came down. You didn't see him. You walked into the laundry room and noticed that his clothes were gone, so he must've put them in the dryer. He wasn't in the kitchen so you assumed he was in the bedroom down the hallway. You didn't want to watch tv because that would create noise and Yuta would know you were out of your room. You decided to take out a puzzle that you bought a few years ago but never actually started. 

It was stored in one of the boxes that you had yet to unpack. You took it out and began to lay the pieces out individually on the floor by the piano. The floor to ceiling windows helped you use the natural light from outside to do your puzzle but it slowly began to fade into darkness. You're not sure how much time passed by but you managed to put 5,000 puzzle pieces right side up and find all the corners and piece them together. You were so busy with your puzzle that you didn't even recognize the footsteps approaching you from behind. Minding your own business, you continued with the puzzle. 

"What are you doing?" A deep voice spoke into your ear and you screamed in terror. You quickly turned around while seated on the floor and Yuta was bent over you, trying to see over your shoulder what you were doing. 

"Y-you spoke," you managed to say. Yuta squatted down to your level and made eye contact with you. He nodded in response. 

"You can speak," you said in disbelief. So he wasn't mute after all. Images of what happened earlier flashed through your mind and you began to squirm. You knew you had to apologize to him. 

"About earlier, I'm really sorry-"

Yuta put his hand out to stop you, but you continued talking. 

"I promise, I didn't see anything," you lied. "Regardless though, I should respect your privacy. I just didn't know those rooms were in that hallway. When my dad bought me this place, I remember there only being a storage room."

Yuta nodded in response to confirm your thoughts. 

You raised your eyebrows. "So there was? I knew I wasn't crazy!"

"Your dad had those rooms built in for me a few months ago when the virus barely started," Yuta spoke. His voice was deep but very smooth. You could listen to him speak forever. 

"Is there a reason why you're barely talking to me now and didn't want to these past few weeks?" You asked him. He shook his head in response. 

"Please talk to me more. I really like the sound of your voice. I might go insane if my voice is the only one I hear all the time."

"Maybe," he replied and took a seat next to you. He began to help you with your puzzle and said no more. You noticed he was still wearing the clothes you gave him. He looked comfortable and less of a robot than he did yesterday. 

Not much of the puzzle was finished an hour later. You and Yuta managed to separate the pieces by color but after that, you got tired of sitting on the hard floor. You stood up and Yuta looked up at you in curiosity.

"Are you hungry?" You asked him. He nodded. You walked into the kitchen and checked out the fridge. Unfortunately, you only had a few veggies but there wasn't even enough to make a decent veggie meal for the two of you. You checked the time to see if you could still order groceries but they close at 8pm and it was already 8:45pm. 

"Yuta, we have a problem," you said from the kitchen. You could hear him approaching you and you looked up from the fridge to him. "We don't have food to make."

You could see Yuta running through his thoughts and then finally looked back at you. "I can pick us up something to eat at a fast-food place but you have to promise me you'll stay here."

You smiled and nodded your head. "I promise I'll stay here."

Yuta walked down the hallway to his room and came back out with a sweater. He waved goodbye to you and left.

Being alone in the house, you let out a large sigh that relieved tension in your back. You didn't realize how tight your muscles were being around Yuta. Several weeks had passed by from the time you were forced to stay in the house and you wondered how long this quarantine was going to last. You hated it. You could've been out at a club right now, having drinks and dancing. But instead, you were at home with a man that feels uncomfortable to say more than 20 words to you.

You continued to think in silence and wonder what was it that made Yuta want to speak. Not only that, but Yuta left his job posting. After all those past weeks of staying right by the elevator door, and suddenly he left you at home alone to get food. It was really odd and you couldn't really find a reason why he's not acting the way he has been. 

You sat down on the couch and laid your head back with a sigh. For a second, you wished you had a dildo to satisfy yourself and keep you busy when there was nothing else to do. Unfortunately, all of your toys were at your apartment and you doubted your dad's men packed those for you. 

To see if your assumptions were right, you checked the boxes to see if they managed to pack your toys. Everything was thrown messily in the boxes so you began to search deep inside them. To your surprise, you actually found them below a couple of other things. You took out your favorite toy and turned it on, the vibration instantly making your core throb. You wondered if you should play with yourself until Yuta came back. You thought for a second, realizing that Yuta didn't have a car to take and he was probably walking to get the food. 

You laid down on the couch and lowered your pajama pants and underwear. You flipped on the dildo and pressed it against your clit, making goosebumps appear on your skin and a shiver run throughout your whole body. It had literally been weeks since you last satisfied yourself and now that you're breaking your hiatus, it felt so good. 

You continued to let the vibration massage your clit. You pulled up your shirt and bra and ran your hand up your body to one of your breasts. You tweaked your nipple and the pleasure from both the toy and your nipple began to run through your body. You moaned loud as you felt your climax approaching. You inserted the dildo inside your pussy and simultaneously, the toy vibrated on your clit. Multiple parts of your body were being stimulated and your body began to shake. You knew your orgasm was approaching and it was coming quickly. You tried to go fast all the while shaking, and then you heard someone clear their throat from behind you. Your climax completely dissolved as you froze in terror and turned the toy off. You didn't move from the couch, too scared to turn around. You quickly pulled your shirt down along with your bra and tried to bring your underwear and pants up while sitting down on the couch. The noise could only come from one person and you were already dead embarrassed. 

You stood up from the couch, hid the toy behind your back, and turned around with your eyes closed. You were sure you were tomato red and you were too embarrassed to open your eyes to see Yuta's expression. 

"Um, I brought us food. There was a food vendor right outside the building so I got us some burgers and fries," you heard Yuta say. "You can open your eyes."

You opened your eyes slowly and rubbed your face with your hand out of embarrassment. This was probably the worst day of your life, being forced to stay quarantined running second in place. 

"I am so sorry," you finally spoke. "I thought you were going to be gone for at least twenty minutes."

Yuta put his hand up and nodded. "I get it. Come eat."

Passing by the boxes on the floor, you threw your toy inside quickly and approached the bags of food. Your stomach growled and Yuta handed you your food.

"I'll be right back," Yuta said and walked down the hallway and into his room. You brought your food and his to the dining table and waited for Yuta to come back. As you waited, you searched for the right words to say to apologize correctly. People say things are okay all the time, but they don't always mean it. 

Ten minutes had passed and he still wasn't out of his room and you were starving. You decided to just eat and apologize to Yuta once he comes out. You managed to finish your whole meal and Yuta still wasn't out. You began to worry a little about him, wondering if he was okay. You threw your trash away and slowly approached his bedroom door. You knocked softly and spoke. 

"Yuta? Are you okay? Your food is getting cold. I was waiting for you to start eating but you're taking too long so I already ate."

His bedroom door swung open and he was really red in the face and looked sweaty. You looked at him with surprise and worry. 

"Yuta, why are you so red? Are you okay?" You put your palm to his head and he was really warm. "Are you getting sick? You feel feverish. Do you need medicine?"

Yuta shook his head in response and continued to walk out of his room. He sat down on the table and you sat with him to accompany him. As time ticked by slowly, the flush in his face slowly subsided and his skin went back to normal.

He finally finished his meal and he sat back in satisfaction. You checked the time and it was pretty late and you looked back up at Yuta. 

"Can I ask you something?" You asked Yuta. He nodded. 

"It involves a verbal response though," you mentioned. He nodded his head to signal you to go ahead. 

"These past few weeks you had been so uptight about doing your job and not talking to me, why is today the day you decide to interact with me? Not only that, but you left your spot where you always stand and you're actually eating in front of me."

Yuta sat forward and intertwined his fingers. "Your father called me and he asked me how I was doing. He's a pretty caring man and I was really surprised when he asked if I was taking care of my own needs. I am a man of truth so I told him what I have been up to. Although the bedroom and restroom were built for me, I was not going to enjoy them if your father didn't first give me permission. He asked me how was our relationship turning out and I told him I hadn't spoken to you once. He was shocked at how many weeks passed by and we hadn't spoke but he encouraged me to talk to you. I had no problems with you, I just take my job seriously."

You nodded your head, impressed by everything he said. You were also mesmerized by his voice. He finally said more words than you can count on your fingers and honestly, you really didn't want to stop hearing his voice.

You took a deep breath, knowing what you wanted to say but not knowing how to say it. "Listen, about earlier. I know you said it was okay, but out of respect, I need to give you a better apology. This is embarrassing for me and I know it really caught you off guard. I should've been doing that in my room rather than the living room. I'm really sorry you saw what I was doing."

Yuta lightly laughed and you looked up to him. He was smiling and then he spoke. "It's really fine. I get it. We have needs to tend to and we are first and foremost, humans. It was actually kind of hot to know what you were doing."

Your eyes widened at his response and you felt the temperature in the house rise by a few degrees. You could feel your cheeks and ears getting hot and you quickly looked away to hide your fluster. Again, Yuta laughed at your silent response. 

"It's getting late now and I think we should go to sleep. I haven't had a decent sleep in three months," Yuta said. 

You nodded and quickly got up from your chair and threw your trash and Yuta's trash away.

"Okay well I'll see you tomorrow," you said to him. He nodded his head and watched as you turned around and walked up the stairs. Once you were in your room with the door closed, you let out a huge sigh of relief, not knowing how irregular you were breathing. You could sense a sexual tension rising between the two of you, but you could never make the first move. Although your confidence can drive you to say certain things, you didn't have enough confidence to take action.

You threw yourself on your bed and checked the time on your clock. It was already midnight and you were thankful for how late it was because although you took a nap earlier, you were tired. 

The next morning, you decided to call downstairs to the grocers to buy more food for the house. Since Yuta was now eating, you knew you had to order more food and enough for at least a week. Just like routine, Jaehyun answered the phone and you told him the list of food you wanted.

"I'll be up in about an hour," he said before hanging up. 

You decided to do a few chores around the house to keep yourself busy until Jaehyun came up or until Yuta woke up. Nothing was really messy but you cleaned whatever was visible. The kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, you mopped, dusted, did some laundry and tried to clean as much of the tall windows as you could. Eventually, the elevator dinged, indicating that Jaehyun was coming. You scanned your keycard to let him up but when the elevator doors opened, an unfamiliar man stood there with your groceries.

"Um, who are you?" You asked him. He was really good looking but his good looks didn't make you any less suspicious. 

"I'm here to bring you your groceries," he stated. 

"Where's Jaehyun?" You asked. 

"He had something to do so I offered to take these up to you."

You nodded your head, giving him the okay to come inside. "Jaehyun usually puts the groceries away."

The man nodded as he was bringing the food in from the elevator.

"Let me know when you're done. I'll be upstairs putting away some laundry," you told him. He nodded in understanding and with that, you grabbed your laundry basket from the wash room and went upstairs to your bedroom. 

You began separating your clothes. The ones that needed to be hung up, the ones that needed to be folded, your underwear, socks and miscellaneous particles were all separated into their own groups. You began putting them away and before you knew it, all of your clothes were stacked neatly inside your closet. As you were putting your clothes basket away in your storage closet, you heard your bedroom door open. You assumed it was the grocers man telling you he was finished.

You heard your bedroom door close and lock and out of confusion, you walked back out to see what was going on. The grocers man was standing at the door staring at you. 

"Uh, can I help you with something?" An uneasy feeling washed over you body, as you watched the man stand in front of your now locked door. 

"Actually," the man spoke. "You can."  He smiled at you but it wasn't a regular friendly smile. He took a step towards you and your instinct told you to take one step back. He continued to walk towards you and before you knew it, the back of your legs hit your bed. 

"What are you doing? You do know I have a watchman in my house, right?" You told him. 

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, but where is he now? He's asleep, isn't he? Yuta, the man that should be watching Felix Reyes' daughter, is dead asleep and he won't be able to hear anything."

The last part of the mans sentence made your heart race even more than it was before. You looked at your surroundings, searching for a clear path to leave your room and run downstairs, but he was blocking the only pathway to the door. He noticed what you were doing and laughed. 

"You're not going anywhere until I feel like I'm done."

"Why are you doing this to me?" You asked him. 

"Because your dad owes me money but for some reason, he thinks he's too high and mighty to pay me back. I told him I would get him where it hurts the most; can you guess what that is?" He slowly reached into his back pocket and took out a large silver object. He pressed a button and you realized that it was a switchblade. 

"Wait," you said with your hands in front of you. "I have money. What if I give you the money?"

The man evilly smiled and laughed. He continued walking towards you and your feet brought you to try to run around him. You were mere inches away from your door before he grabbed you by the waist, threw you over his shoulder and carried you to your bed. He threw you down and instantly climbed on top of you. You began throwing your fists, trying to aim for his face but he kept moving. He got ahold of both of your wrists, pinned them above you, and put the knife to your neck. 

"Keep moving and see if I don't slice your neck and leave you dead on your bed," the man threatened. Tears began to run down your face as the coldness from the blade stung your skin. 

The man, sitting right on top of you, began to scan your body, and you wriggled in hopes that he would get off of you. 

"Please, don't hurt me," you begged him. 

"I won't sweetheart," he said, sliding the knife across your cheek. "What I plan on doing to you, oh I promise you'll enjoy it."

The mans breath fanned your face and although his breath did not smell, you felt like you were about to throw up. His body odor made your head spin and you became nauseous and numb at the same time. You shook your head, not wanting this to happen to you. 

"You have a fucking hot body," he said. He dropped the knife onto your bed and used his hands to grope your body. His large hand roughly grabbed your breast and you cried out in pain. Quickly, he placed his hand over your mouth. 

"Make anymore noise and I'll kill you and that man downstairs."

Silent tears continued to run down your face and you wished you could fast forward to when this was done. With your eyes closed, you tried to think of something happy; going back to a time where you were actually happy with your life. It was a time when your mom was alive, before she died from cancer.

Your mind numbed your body and silenced everything around you. Although you couldn't feel or hear what was going on, you knew what was really happening. You continued to lay underneath the large man, no fight left inside your body. 

You began to feel like you couldn't breathe. It almost felt like the weight of the mans body was crushing you and you began gasping for air. However almost instantly, the weight was lifted and you opened your eyes. You were no longer seeing the man that was above you but instead saw the white ceiling in your bedroom. Slowly, your hearing came back and shortly followed was your sense of touch. You could hear grunting and loud thumps throughout your bedroom but you didn't have the strength to sit up and see what it was. You had no idea where that man was but you were thankful that he was no longer on you. You continued to look at your ceiling, the white paint making you feel at peace. 

"Y/n," you heard someone say. It was very muffled and you were confused. You couldn't recognize the voice and you didn't have the strength to move your gaze to the sound. The only thing you managed to focus on was the ceiling. 

"Y/n, are you okay? I need to take you to the hospital."

Whoever was talking to you lifted you up off of your bed and began carrying you out of your room. You didn't know what was going on and slowly, your vision turned black. 

"I promised to take care of you and I couldn't even do that," you heard the voice say before your hearing subsided into darkness. 

;;

The first thing to wake up was your hearing. You knew you were still asleep but you could hear what was going on around you. You could hear beeping, almost as if you were staying in the hospital. It didn't smell like the hospital though. It smelled like...home. 

Normally, hospital beds are hard and uncomfortable, but whatever you were sleeping on was soft. However, you knew it wasn't your bed. You know your own smell and the smell of the blankets and pillows surrounding you, although was not your own, was still very comforting and you couldn't find the reason why. 

Your brain was now waking up but your body was still asleep. You tried to tell the rest of your body to wake up but it just wasn't happening. You could smell food and you wanted to get up so badly, but your eyes wouldn't open. Your hands began to twitch, fighting to move. You decided it was pointless to fight with sleep so you stopped trying to force yourself awake and instead waited until your eyes opened when your brain wanted them to. 

Before you knew it, you began to open your eyes. You slowly looked around and noticed you were in an unfamiliar yet familiar room. You couldn't pinpoint why the room looked familiar. You began to scan everything: looking at the blankets, pillow, wallpaper, the dresser, closet. It almost seemed as if you had seen the room before. 

You slowly sat up and stood quiet to see if you could hear anything outside of the room. It was silent and you could no longer smell the food that you once smelled before. You got out of bed and recognized that you were in pajamas that you didn't know you owned. You approached the bedroom door and opened it. 

You walked out of the room and finally realized where you were. You were sleeping in Yuta's room. But how did you get there?

Your feet walked you out of the hallway and into the living room. Jaehyun was sitting on the couch and you stood there confused. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You struggled with your voice and you were confused as to why you couldn't say anything. You tried to call out to him but once again, your voice failed you. 

You continued to walk up to Jaehyun and finally he saw you from the side of his eye and looked up at you with shock on his face.

"Y/n," he said. "You're awake."

His words made you stop in your tracks and you drew your eyebrows in. Why would you not wake up?

He got up from the couch and approached you, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He slowly brought his hands up to your shoulders, as if to be cautious, and when he realized you were allowing him to touch you, he brought you in for a huge hug. His arms wrapped around you tightly and he began sobbing into your shoulder. You didn't know what was going on and you had so many questions.

Jaehyun pulled away from the hug and looked at you with teary eyes.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. 

"I feel fine," you managed to croak out. Your voice was completely hoarse and you grimaced at the sound of your own voice. Jaehyun smiled at your reaction and reached down to hold both of your hands.

"Why did I wake up in Yuta's room?" You asked. 

Jaehyun's smile faded away quickly and he looked at you with sympathy. "Y/n, do you remember what happened? Do you know how long you were asleep for?"

His questions brought more confusion to you. You shook your head in reply. Jaehyun grabbed your hand and brought you to sit down with him on the couch. He began speaking with a soft voice and as he began to tell you what happened, memories of that day began to flood your brain. He said you had been asleep for weeks and the doctors didn't know why you fell into a coma.

"Yuta tried taking you to the hospital but because of the virus going around, they turned both of you down. However, a doctor came to see you and was so confused as to why you fell into a coma after what happened. His conclusion was that your body was trying to recover from a traumatic event."

Tears began falling down your face. You began to remember vividly what happened that day. The day that Jaehyun was supposed to bring your groceries.

"You were supposed to be here," you told him through a trembling voice. "You were supposed to bring my groceries. Not that man."

Jaehyun grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you, trying to comfort you. "I know. I should've been there. I should've fought the guy off but he hit me over the head and gave me a concussion. I was knocked out for a few days and I regret every single day for not thinking he was more suspicious when he volunteered to bring your groceries up."

"Where's Yuta?" You asked him. Jaehyun looked behind him and you followed his gaze. There Yuta stood, right by the elevator door, just like he did the first few months he watched over you. You gasped and stood from the couch. You ran up to Yuta and embraced him. You cried right into his chest and continued to hug him. When he didn't return the embrace, you looked up at him. He had a stern look across his face and he didn't look down at you once. 

"Yuta?" You called out to him. "Why aren't you looking at me?"

He ignored you and didn't speak. You pulled away from him and stood back. "Yuta? Why are you ignoring me? Talk to me, please,” you begged. 

"He's back to the way he used to be, Y/n. He hated how off guard he was that day and he went back to not sleeping, eating and always guarding the door."

You shook your head and continued to cry. "Please, Yuta, don't be like this. Talk to me, please."

He didn't say a word and like Jaehyun said, he was back to the way he was before. You turned away from Yuta and turned towards Jaehyun. 

"Where is that man?" You asked. 

"Yuta killed him when he found the man on top of you," Jaehyun said. 

Frustration was now taking over your emotions and you were upset that Yuta already killed the man. If he was still alive, you'd kill him yourself. 

You felt frustrated that you had been raped. You felt frustrated that Yuta was back to the way he was before. You hated that he blamed himself for what happened. You hated that the man was dead already. You hated that you had slipped into a coma for unknown reasons. You hated that you had to stay in the Flower. You hated this virus going on. You hated everything at the moment and you were slowly being filled with anger at everything around you. 

Jaehyun left and went back downstairs to the grocers and you were once again left in silence.

;;

A year had passed since the incident and Yuta was still not talking to you. Every few weeks or so, he would switch shifts with another guard that your dad hired so that Yuta could have his time to sleep, eat and take care of his other needs. He never ate the food you made for him, he never slept and he never left his post. It made you upset every time you tried to talk to him and he would ignore you. You were annoyed that he blamed himself for what happened when in all honesty, there was no way Yuta could have predicted what would happen even if he wasn't asleep that day. 

You had tried whatever you could think of to sway Yuta. You tried putting delicious food in his face, you tried telling him jokes, tickling him, you tried every possible way to make him laugh. You tried to seduce him and that completely backfired when you got a call the next day from your dad about how he had warned you about seducing his men. 

Another year had gone by and you had grown to ignore Yuta. He was acting like a statue in the house, almost like an ornament or decoration. Jaehyun was no longer working at the grocers downstairs and moved onto creating his own business. You lost the only friend you had in the building. The virus had gotten worse and there was no vaccine available. You were practically at home alone. 

"Please talk to me. I feel like I'm going to go insane," you begged Yuta. It was your birthday and you hadn't spoke to a single human in a year. "Yuta, please. How much more do I need to beg you to talk to me. It's my birthday and I haven't spoken to anyone in months."

You walked up to him and stood close in front of him. You grabbed his face and smashed his cheeks together, the first skin-to-skin contact you've ever had with Yuta since he started watching over you. You pinched his cheeks and you could tell he was trying his best not to give in to your tactics. Suddenly, Yuta grabbed both of your wrists and held them up. He looked you in the eyes and you could tell he was annoyed with you. He threw your hands down in irritation and then looked away from your gaze. 

"That's progress,” you simply said. 

The next day, you did the same thing. This time, he didn't stop you. You ran your fingers through his hair. It was now a light brown with blond highlights and it looked better on him than his lavender hair.

"This hair looks really good on you," you told him. You continued to run your fingers through his hair and he didn't move a single bit. 

You brought both of your hands to his cheeks and again smashed his cheeks. His pink lips puckered up and you laughed at the face that was formed from smashing his cheeks. You looked down to his lips and you had the sudden urge to place your own on his. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn't know how he'd react. You brought your face close to his, lips almost touching, and Yuta's eyes widened as he looked down at you. He didn't stop you, and when he didn't, you softly placed your lips on his. The kiss was very gentle, you were worried that if you got too carried away, he would push you away. But he didn't push you away and you continued to kiss him. 

His lips, although at first were frozen, began to move along with yours. His eyes closed and finally began to mold with yours. The tender kiss created a new hunger within you. You pulled away from the kiss, your breath and Yuta's unsteady, and you took a step away from him. 

"All I want is attention from you," you told him. "The security for this building has quadrupled. I don't see the reason why you need to work so hard."

He kept his eyes closed and sighed. He shook his head. "I can't bring myself to lose concentration."

You stood there, his voice almost making you cry, and took in every thing he said. You hadn't heard him speak in over two years and you felt like it was something to throw a celebration for.

"What happened to me in the past, is the past. I've received therapy for what happened and I promise, I'm okay now. And like I said, the security has quadrupled since that day. There is no reason for you to work like a dog. I'm not saying to stop being my guard, all I'm saying is to stop working so hard. Don't ignore me. Give me some type of attention. I will be happy with anything."

Yuta sighed and shook his head. He looked up at you and his face went hard, going back into his security position that he was in.

That night, you promised yourself you won't give up until Yuta is back to the way he was when he first started talking to you.

The next morning, you woke up, showered, put your favorite perfume on, your favorite lingerie and then put a pink silk robe on top of the red lingerie set that you were wearing. You did your hair in large curls and put some makeup on. Today was the day you were not going to quit until something good happened.

You walked downstairs and saw Yuta standing there. The black combat boots with the black cargo pants and black long sleeve shirt he was wearing made your core throb. He had been wearing the same thing every single day for the past two years but for some reason, it was hitting different that day. You approached him with a smile. 

"Good morning, Yuta," you said to him up close, making sure he could smell your perfume. "You're looking a little tired. Let me massage you."

You got closer to him and began to massage his shoulders. His muscles were hard and your fingers weren't strong enough to give him a good massage. You continued though, for about ten minutes and then stopped. 

"How did that feel?" You asked him. He ignored you. 

"I did my hair and makeup today. How do I look?" You asked him. He took a quick glance at you and then went back to staring at nothing. 

"I got ready just for you," you told him. You got close to him again and ran a finger from his head to his lips and ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip.

"These lips are seriously the best," you told him. "They've created a new desire within me when we kissed yesterday. Now, I don't think I can stop thinking about them."

You saw Yuta look at you but when you looked at him, he looked away. You stood on your tiptoes and brought your lips slowly to his. Not once did he look at you. 

Your lips made contact with the corner of his lips and you gave him a gentle peck, your lipstick remaining on his skin. 

"Oh! I almost forgot to show you. I'm wearing something new. Want to see?" You stood right in his line of vision, where he was constantly staring, and made sure he was looking at you. You untied your robe and let it fall off of your shoulders but held it around your waist. You could see Yuta began breathing quicker and that made you feel slightly accomplished. 

You slowly let the robe fall off the rest of your body, showcasing the red lingerie to Yuta. His eyes widened and you smiled at his reaction. You slowly approached him and noticed his eyes were now following you.

"What do you think?" You asked him. He was looking at you, up and down, and he looked almost hungry for you. You turned around and showed him your ass and softly grinded your ass against him. 

"Does the back look okay?" You could now hear his breathing and you giggled. 

"Don't be afraid to touch," you told him. You grabbed both of his hands and placed them on your ass. On his own, he began squeezing your ass. He slapped it once really hard, and you jumped and yelped. 

"Do you like what you see?" You looked at Yuta over your shoulder. He nodded and continued to massage your ass. 

"Answer me out loud," you told him. 

Yuta paused for a second and then aggressively brought your body up against his and wrapped his hand around your throat. You smiled and looked up at him from the side of your eye. 

"Is this what you wanted?" He said in a deep voice. You nodded, your core instantly throbbing and jumping in excitement for what's to come. 

With one hand on your throat, Yuta brought his other hand and slowly slid them inside your lingerie panties.

"This looks so goddamn hot on you," he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose all over your body as he got closer to your swollen bud. 

He slowly slid a finger across your slit and took in a deep breath when he felt how wet you were from just his hand on your throat.

"Fuck, you're so wet. And from what?" You could hear the taunting in his voice and you had never heard anything sexier. 

He brought his now wet finger to your clit, and slowly, he began tracing circles. Your legs instantly bucked and it threw off your balance. Seeing your reaction, he began to go harder. Your legs began to shake and you weren't even close to coming yet. You knew that you wouldn't be able to stand upright when the time did come. 

"Yuta..." you called out to him out of breath. "I don't think I can stand. My legs are shaking too much."

He pulled his hands away from you quickly and before you could turn around to face him, he lifted you up bridal style. He walked the both of you into his room and placed you on his bed. He stood at the edge of his bed, staring at you with a hunger that you've never seen before. 

"Tell me what you want," he demanded. 

That caught you off guard. You had never told someone specifically what you wanted.

"Tell me, or else I won't do anything," he threatened. 

You could feel yourself blushing and you internally groaned. This man just had his hand down your underwear yet you feel like it's an impossible mission to tell him what you want. 

"I-I want you to make me feel good," you said simply. Yuta evilly grinned and then laughed. 

He shook his head. "No, tell me specifically what you want. If you have the confidence to start this, you have the confidence to tell me what you want me to do to you."

He wasn't going to let you get away with not saying it. You closed your eyes, opened them, and looked at him before answering. "I want you to eat me out until I come and then I want you to fuck my brains out until I come again and can't move."

Yuta's eyes dilated that instant and it made him look almost scary. He climbed onto the bed and approached your legs. He laid on his stomach and brought his face close to your core. "Like this?"

You nodded and he placed a kiss on your clitoris through your panties. You could feel the pressure and it made you throw your head back. He continued to kiss you in between your legs and it created a desire that was slowly growing with each second. 

"Please Yuta," you pleaded. 

"Please what?" He asked. He knew exactly what. 

You sucked your teeth in annoyance and removed your underwear yourself, since he wasn't going to do it. He smiled and laughed before going back in between your thighs. 

He placed his lips around your clit, and sucked, causing you to buck into his face. He continued to suck and your legs were shaking while your body began to arch from the bed. 

"Oh fuck, Yuta, that feels so good," you whispered. He placed a finger inside your pussy and you could hear how wet you were. 

"Fuck," you heard Yuta say. He began fucking you with his large finger and continued to suck on your clit. His soft tongue glided against your core of nerves and you could feel your climax approaching fast. 

"Yuta, fuck, I'm going to come," you squeaked. He sucked on your clit harder, his teeth gently touching, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your body convulsed and your legs shook uncontrollably as you gripped Yuta's hair. He continued to play with your clit and you tried to pull away, but Yuta had a grip on your thighs to keep you near him. 

"Fuck, that was so hot," he told you. 

Yuta pulled away and sat up and waited for you to come to. You slowly sat up and looked at him. His hair was a mess and his lips glistened with your come. He looked sexually delicious and you got up on your knees as well and smashed your lips on his, tasting yourself from his mouth. 

Yuta quickly removed his shirt and you began to unbuckle his belt. He removed his shoes and pants and he was there half naked. You could see his erection tenting his boxers and your little friend downstairs started acting up again. 

Yuta got off the bed and gestured for you to do the same. "Get on your knees," he said. 

You did as he said and he grabbed his belt from the bed. "Give me your wrists."

You gave him your wrists and he used the belt to tie them together. "I want you to suck my cock."

He dropped his boxers to his ankles and his cock flopped out so quick it almost hit you in the face. He looked down and stared at you, waiting for you to start off the blowjob. 

You got closer and reached for him. He smacked your hands and you dropped them. "No hands," he said. 

You got up higher on your knees and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. You let your arms dangle below you and tried your best to suck him off. 

“Fuck yes, you’re such a good girl,” Yuta groaned as he pulled all of your hair into his fist. You continued to bob on his cock, trying to go as deep as you can. Yuta saw you struggling and grabbed your face and began bucking into your mouth. His aggressive thrusts had you gagging and your eyes watering, so Yuta slowed down and then pulled his cock out of your mouth. He bent over and pressed his lips against yours, using his tongue to taste himself inside your mouth. He pulled away and stared at you. 

“Such a beautiful girl, with her makeup running down her eyes,” he said caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Get up,” he said. He helped you get up and he climbed onto the bed. “Ride me.”

Nervously, you awkwardly climbed onto the bed and brought one leg on one side of him and straddled him. Placing your tied up hands on his chest, he helped guide his hard cock towards the entrance of your pussy. 

“Tease the head,” he commanded. You began swaying your hips back and forth and allowed the tip of his cock to get wet with the entrance of your pussy.

“Fuck, I know you’re going to feel good,” Yuta said under his breath. He stopped your hip movements with one hand and with the other, he lowered you down onto his cock. The fullness that began to fill you up made you clench around him. 

“If you do that again, I might just come inside you,” he said. Your eyes rolled back once he was balls deep inside. You hadn’t had any sexual attention in a few years and this was definitely better than your toys. 

“Fuck my cock,” Yuta said. You began bouncing your ass up and down his cock as your chest pressed against his. You made eye contact with him and held it there. Yuta began biting his lip and his eyes rolled back until his eyes shut.

“Fuck, your cock is so good Yuta,” you told him. He opened his eyes and grabbed onto your neck and began to roughly pound up into you. The slight oxygen loss and pleasure filling your body quickly built up your climax and before you knew it, you were shaking and clenching on Yuta’s cock. Cursing under his breath, he thrust harder into you, wanting to feel you clench all the way through. Without a warning and disconnecting, Yuta flipped you over so you were underneath him. His large hand continued to stay wrapped around your throat. He undid the belt that tied your wrists together and freed your hands. Your legs wanted to close on their own but with Yuta in between them, they couldn’t. 

“Oh no, I’m not done with you yet. You’re going to come on my cock one more time,” he said. He wasn’t going soft and was aggressively pounding into you. Every thrust knocked air out of you and every time you tried to open your eyes, they ended up rolling back into your head. Your gripped onto his forearm, subtly wanting him to choke you harder. 

“Choke me harder please,” you asked him. He smiled down at you and did just as you asked.

“I’m going to come again, oh my god,” you whispered to him. He quickly reached down in between both of your bodies and began rubbing your clit as his cock pounded your pussy and his hand cut some of your oxygen off. You instantly stopped breathing and your gripped onto the closest thing nearby. You arched your back and your legs began to shake immensely. The pleasure that was once little, grew stronger and spread throughout your whole body. Your eyes stood close and your climax hit you hard. Your body convulsed and your pussy clenched hard around Yuta’s cock. You were so immersed with your own climax that you didn’t even know that Yuta’s came as well. 

“Fuck,” Yuta sputtered. The two of you came down from your highs and you finally opened your eyes. You looked up at Yuta who was staring at you with a small smile on his face. You smiled up at him and brought his lips down for a kiss. He pulled away and quickly got off of you and let you lay there to catch your breath. As he got off the bed, you noticed several scratches leading from his shoulders to his back. 

“Oh my god, Yuta, did I do that to you?” He turned around and you pointed at his back. He turned and looked at his back in the mirror and his eyes widened. He checked out the long scratch marks on his back and then smiled widely. 

“I love getting souvenirs,” he said to you. You blushed as he smiled at you and you couldn’t help but giggle.

He walked away into the bathroom and a few moments later, walk out with a rag. He gently helped clean you up, making sure to be considerate of your sensitive area. Once finished, he and you went underneath his covers. You turned to him and cuddled into his chest. 

“Are you happy now?” He asked you. You nodded and looked up at him with a smile.

“Don’t ignore me anymore, please?” You pleaded. He kissed you on the head, his lips lingering for a few seconds.

“Okay. I promise, but when I have to be serious about my job, you have to let me. Okay?” You nodded in response and he gave you one more forehead kiss. 

After laying down in his bed for a while, he took a deep breath that caused you to look at him. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“Ready for round two?”

[trashcankitty12]

Flora Headcanons:

Guys, meet the Sugar and Sweet part of the Winx Club.

Or, as you already know her: Flora La Rosa of Linphea.

Under the cut are the headcanons because again, these get long. (Also some I’ve mentioned before, I think, but whatever. And again, these are mostly for my main verse ‘Balance/The New Company of Light’ and for ‘Left’.)

-Flora has a rather large family, one that stems partially from cousins adopted after the Great War of Magic ended. (So many were displaced or orphaned, and her family was just one of many who took in the children left behind.)

-Honestly though, she really just sees her immediate family often, the rest of them coming around only for major Linphean holidays. (Though they all stay in touch through letters, phone calls, and social media. Especially the cousins.)

-Flora tends to be closer to her father as they share a similar sense of humor and have similar hobbies (like leaf surfing and giant ladybug racing). But her magic took after her mother’s and her mother was her first magic teacher.

-(She was a bit late getting her magic and a bit late getting her wings. She was eight when her magic came in and already 13 by the time her wings sprouted. Though she wasn’t surprised, as her mother had been a late ‘winger’ too.)

-Flora’s mother is the Guardian Fairy of Linphea and helps run the Main GreenHouse alongside the Nymph of Linphea and the royal family. Thanks to Alyssa’s job, Flora got to meet and assist all sorts of people from her realm. (Including the witch triplets who went to Cloud Tower; Euphorbia, Ververine, and Gerbera. And Princess Krystal.)

-Rhodos works with a faction of conservationists in Linphea to keep endangered animals (and plants) alive. He mainly works with the magiwolves of Linphea and tries to keep their numbers where they’re supposed to be. And because of his job, he ended up adopting a young magiwolf pup they named Amarok.

- (They weren’t going to keep him… They weren’t. But because he was born a different pigment than his littermates, his mother had abandoned him and… Rhodos couldn’t very well leave him to die. Besides, Amarok is nothing more than an overgrown lapdog. Usually.)

-Miele was born when Flora was about six or seven, give or take a few months. And yes, there was a touch of jealousy when Miele first came home because Flora didn’t understand why her parents weren’t spending as much time with her.

-Her parents were quick to pick up on her anxieties about the new baby and started incorporating Flora into assisting with Miele’s care. (Like reading and playing with her while Alyssa made dinner and helping her toddle around the family’s garden while naming off the plants.)

-Honestly, they grew up close and Flora became like a second mom to Miele. (Which would later turn into a minor annoyance as Miele got older, but that’s fine. They’re working through that.)

-Sibling shenanigans still occurred however, like Miele taking and reading Flora’s diary or Flora planting frogs or bugs into her sister’s room. (Or the Great Baking War that Alyssa refuses to let them live down.)

-Flora’s paternal grandmother, Nana Rose, is close to her family and has been living with them since her husband, Poppop Miden passed away.

-She’s a witch who works at the local clinic, her focus is on potions. (Which she passed on to Flora and has tried to teach her everything she knows about them… And everything she knows on poisons too because sometimes a poison is necessary.)

-And yes, Nana Rose did have hope that at least one of her granddaughters would be a witch, but she’s still proud of them. Wings and all.

-Flora has a hidden angry side. It doesn’t come out much and she does her best not to show it often, but she has a major temper when she does slip and let it out. She will unleash her will into the plant life around her and have it come for whoever pissed her off. Or if she’s really feeling it, she may just go in for a physical attack. The girl can pack a punch. (Granted, this only happens in situations where loved ones are in danger.)

-Flora is the only one from her elementary and middle school friend group that went to a Magix School. Most of her friends went to the Linphean Academy.

-She’s the tallest in her main friend group, standing at 5’7.

-She’s one of the Mom friends in the group, the other being Tecna. (She’s the more empathetic and emotional mom friend. Tecna’s the ‘well you fucked around and found out the hard way’ mom friend.)

-Flora wasn’t too sure about Chatta being her pixie at first, but is beyond grateful for the pixie helping her come out of her shell more.

-They now attempt to have weekly (though it’s sometimes monthly) tea parties to catch up on everything.

-Flora doesn’t really ‘do’ competitive sports often, but leaf surfing is the best thing ever and it’s one of the few sports she’s better at than Layla. (Though she does have the advantage of being Linphean and getting to leaf surf regularly…)

-Flora is a romantic and enjoys the ‘rom-com’ things; walks on the beach, silly moments around the town, dancing in the rain. But that shouldn’t mean she’s not careful with her heart. She’s empathic (as many Linpheans are) and is good at reading people when meeting them. So unless you’ve got a ‘beautiful’ soul, she’s not going to be interested.

-Flora loves that her friends are from such vastly different places because it means she can learn more about the realms from people who actually live there. (And teach her their languages, though she’s only really fluent in Solarian and conversational in the others.)

-She’s a spiritual person, as many from Linphea are. Flora believes that just like plant life, all life is connected by an invisible root system and that life is precious and should be treated with respect. (However, she also recognizes that there are those who have ‘tainted spirits’ and need to be dealt with so they don’t harm others.)

-Flora’s not exactly shy. She’s just shy around new people. But once she gets to know you and considers you a friend, you’ll find she has no problem speaking her mind. (And sending random things to you over the phone because they made her think of you.)

-There’s a misconception that she, and other Linpheans, are vegetarian. That’s not entirely true. Linpheans do eat meat: fish. They don’t have it often, only for certain occasions, but they do eat it.

-Flora also doesn't mind dirt or getting dirty. (But there is a difference in natural dirt and gunk. Okay? And gunk sucks.)

-Flora doesn't swear often, but she has let a few slip out from time to time. Usually in heated or emotional or upsetting moments.

-Her favorite parts of an Linphean holiday are getting to spend time with her family. She loves it when they all get together and enjoy each other.

-Like most Linpheans, Flora is immune to most poisons. She’ll likely feel a touch of nausea or a minor headache when poisoned, but due to her immune system, she’ll be perfectly fine within a few hours.

-Despite the fact she’s usually the one trying to talk the others out of dangerous situations, doesn’t mean she’s actually afraid of them. Sneaking into another school, fighting through a realm of shadow creatures, going toe-to-toe with magical terrorists; those don’t phase her.

-No, her real fear is something a bit more… Relatable. She’s scared of losing her loved ones. The thought of having her magic and being able to do such incredible things, but not being able to save her family or her friends just absolutely shakes her to core. (Especially in her nightmares when she’s forced to watch them die and she can’t do a thing to save them.)

-(Freshman year really fucked her up when they were fighting the Army of Darkness/Decay. There was a moment she thought she’d lost Musa and Tecna and she nearly broke down. Thankfully, the other two fairies managed to recover with a few of Palladium and Ofelia’s healing salves, but it was touch and go.)

-Flora can’t stand bullies. Granted, not many people like bullies or tolerate them, but Flora just can’t stand for someone to pick on anything that can’t fight back. It’s why she’s managed to enchant a few endangered plant species to being able to speak up and fight back against those who want to pick them apart and why she’s always ready to take on the Trix.

-Flora was the one who helped catch Bloom up on some of the most important aspects of the Magical Dimension (or at least the parts that Stella glossed over or that Tecna overexplained to the point of making it sound alien even to Flora). In return, she learned so much about Earth culture… She was stunned.

-(And fell in love with Earth’s versions of disaster movies. She likes to show other Linpheans and be like “see, if we don’t start really helping the other realms with the ecological problems, this will happen here too.”)

-(Bloom may have also gotten Flora hooked on those ‘hidden camera’ shows... It’s a guilty pleasure.)

-Flora’s got a major sweet tooth. Major. Which is fine because the girl is great at baking. (The other girls are always excited to taste test.)

-Flora’s not quite as delicate as others make her out to be. Yes, her hands are soft despite being in dirt and soil 80% of the time (Linphean lotions are awesome), and yes she’s good a giving that gentle touch to her plants, but she’s physically stronger than she appears. She can lift 50 pound bags of fertilizer with little issue. She’s pretty handy with a shovel (and not just for digging, which her poor cousin Marlow found out when a prank went wrong). And she’s not ‘razer thin’. She has decent muscle mass and is a bit on the broad side. Doesn’t make her any less graceful in the air or on the ground.

-In a fight, she tries to be more defensive than offensive because she doesn’t want to get in Bloom, Layla, or Stella’s way. And she finds her spells work better as traps than as an offensive maneuver. That said, if she feels her friends are in extreme danger, she will not hesitate to call on the Plant Life around them for help. (And she’s known for getting physical too, so watch out for that.)

-Aside from Layla, Flora feels a connection to Roxy. The younger girl’s passion about animals makes her think of her father and she does her best to encourage Roxy to use her passion in her magic.

-Bloom introduced Flora to the game Minecraft. For the first time, Flora understands why Tecna gets so involved in her videogames. (Please send help, she may be addicted. But her farm is looking amazing.)

-Flora doesn’t really worry about fashion, preferring to go by what she feels is comfortable, but she has a hard time saying ‘no’ to Stella when the other fairy has ideas. (Which usually turn out to be beautiful and comfortable and really, Flora just has the best friends.)

-Flora enjoys the nights when all six Winx Club girls can just hang out and be normal for a few hours. Sleepovers, Truth or Dare, movies and junk food. She loves it.

-She got close to Mirta while the other girl was a pumpkin, even finding a way to communicate despite the spell. After the spell was broken and during their sophomore year, Flora was one of the students who helped show Mirta around and made sure she was comfortable. They often talk and catch up. (And yes, Flora did have a hand in helping push Mirta and Lucy together. She regrets nothing.)

-Flora has thought about a tattoo. Many people on her realm get them, though it’s not a requirement nor does it give any extra magical benefits. She just doesn’t know what to get and she wants it be special. (All she knows is where she’d put it, over her burn scar from the Wizards.)

-At her time at Alfea (and in her middle school), Flora was part of the Student Council and Eco Club. She did her best to help make her schools a little more ‘green’ and energy proficient. (Tecna was a big help in coming up with a design for more efficient electrical equipment.)

-Out of all the girls, Flora has the hardest time connecting to Musa with convergence. Their personalities and magical abilities tend to clash from time to time, so they need to really strike a feeling of harmony before trying.

-Bloom is the easiest to converge with. They shared a room and often had so many late-night chats that their auras and feelings just naturally come together when needed.

-Out of all the girls, she’s the most likely to continue living on Earth. She finds the realm so fascinating. (It was a magically dead planet that kept on living... Just.... how?)

-Flora’s current goal in life is to start the revival process of other dead realms in the Magical Dimension. She feels that if she and her friends can resurrect Domino, bring ShadowHaunt back to its former glory, and bring magic back to Earth, they should be able to handle bringing others back to life too.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Fortune’s Rule, Part 2

Here’s the second part of story. You can find the first part here. Damian does make his appearance in this one! I *think* the next part will be the final one.

Pairing: Damian Priest x OFC

Word count: 3,268

Content advisory: Nothing for this part, unless you count some references to the violent bits in the first part. 

50 days.

You spin the plastic coin on the table in front of you and sip your beer while you contemplate it. The coin says 30 days because it counts from when you first started Narcotics Anonymous, but really it’s 50 days since you’ve taken any kind of drug except alcohol. You know that you’re not supposed to touch that either but it’s not like you’re getting dead drunk. Just a drink to take the edge off. You work in a bar. It would be a bummer for the clients and the rest of the staff if you refused to drink anything at all. Besides, alcohol was never the problem. The other stuff was the problem. 

Still, you’ve avoided mentioning anything about working in a bar or having a few drinks a week to anyone at your NA meetings. You’ve told them that you’re a waitress at a restaurant. That’s almost the same thing. 

You look around the cramped room that’s become home. It came furnished and the landlord lets you pay in cash every week, which is the arrangement you need, but it’s not exactly thrilling to come back to at the end of a shift. There’s a small table that looks like it’s out of the seventies that just barely fits between the end of the bed and the wall. And you have to be careful to push the sole chair all the way in when you get up or it blocks the door. There’s one grimy window that looks out onto the fire escape and the alley below where homeless people and hookers come to relieve themselves or take whatever drugs they’ve managed to get their hands on. 

It’s irritating that you know you could actually afford a better place; not an expensive place but an actual apartment. Between the amount remaining in the bag you grabbed from the sinking car and the salary you’re pulling down from work (although that’s under the table), you’re doing better than the residents of this shithole building. But getting an apartment would mean putting your name on a lease, getting a credit check, declaring income. That’s still not safe. You don’t know if that will ever be safe. 

45 days ago, you’d come to in the night lying face down in the woods, moss and twigs and dirt stuck to your skin everywhere. You felt like someone was pounding a railway spike into your forehead and when you touched the point where the pain was centered, you could feel a cut. Your arms hurt. Your ribs hurt. Your knees hurt. You were soaking wet. But you were awake and you had a bag of money underneath you. 

The moon was so bright that it illuminated the area around you, not that it helped much. You were in the wild. After a few minutes, you became aware of some unnatural noise coming from near the river and squinted to see what was there. 

The commotion was coming from the far side of the river, the whirring of a heavy engine and the grinding of tires against the ground, followed by men’s voices. This repeated a few times and you crept forward, staying on your stomach, to get a better look. That’s when you’d seen the lights. Flashlights, the flashing amber light of the tow truck, the blue and red of a police car parked a little further back. You had to squint because the lights hurt your eyes but squinting hurt even more. But gradually, you’d been able to see what was happening: they were pulling the car out of the river. It was agonizingly slow work but inch by inch, your boyfriend’s car was rising from its murky resting place. 

“Shit!” yells one of the men. “Stop it, cut the engine, we got a body!”

A body. Just one? Or just one that they could see? Did one person escape? Was there another body in the river? Did they know that this accident was connected to a drug crime? Did they even know about what had happened at that downtrodden little house, the one you’d fled? 

You never knew. 

You’d curled up next to a fallen tree trunk and tried to stay warm for the rest of the night. The pain in your head kept you from falling asleep and early the next morning, you’d started walking. You didn’t go back to the apartment you’d shared with Johnnie. You didn’t even go back to the town. You’d kept walking parallel to the highway, occasionally checking road signs to get your bearings. You’d walked for five days. You rested as little as possible, although the longer you walked, the more rest you needed. You drank water from streams or springs when you could find them, or directly out of the river. You ate leaves. You ate tree bark. You ate dirt. You hadn’t known enough to try the berries or mushrooms you saw along the way.

After five days, you finally reached the city. You’d been there before but not in years. It was far enough away from your town to be a hassle to get to. It was far enough away for you to disappear and be safe. 

You’d sat down at a fountain downtown and washed yourself off as best you could. Then you’d gone to the first greasy spoon you found and ate a huge breakfast. Then you’d found your way to the part of town where seedy landlords rented rooms to people who didn’t want to answer questions. 

For two weeks, you’d barely left your room and even then, you only left after dark. You expected the police to arrive at any time and haul you back home to face charges or at least to answer a lot of questions but it never happened. After those two weeks had passed, you knew there was no chance that the story was still in the news, if it ever had been, and you’d started to look for a job. You also joined Narcotics Anonymous. You went to meetings in the evening. You worked at night. After a month, you still felt uneasy that people might get too good a look at you, that someone was going to come for you. 

You take another gulp of your beer and touch your forehead. The cut has healed but it’s never stopped hurting. The pain wakes you up some days, bad enough to bring you to tears. But whatever damage you suffered, it’s going to have to get better on its own because going to a hospital is too risky. In case of an absolute emergency, you have your sister’s old driver’s license that you used to use to get into bars when you were underage. 

Unconsciously, your hand falls to the leather bag at your feet. You’d replaced the satchel the day after you’d found this place. Nothing fancy, just an old messenger bag but it was sturdier and had a good thick double zipper. The bag went everywhere you went, no exceptions. You slept with your arms wrapped around it. It was a little lighter than it had been but there was still plenty left. You’d never even bothered to count it. You bought what you needed and very little else: cheap food, thrift store clothes, a few cans of beer from the corner store. 

Your head throbs for a while, enough that the vision in your left eye goes a bit blurry, but then it subsides, as it always does. You’ve got this, you tell yourself. You made it out of the car. You made it out of the woods. You’ve bought yourself the time you need to figure out what to do next, how to make your life into something. 

Rather than climb into bed, you open a second beer. You can tell this is one of those nights that you need to stay awake until your body simply can’t handle it anymore. If you let yourself drift off to sleep, you can tell that the nightmares are going to come, the nightmares where you’re back near the river, trying to lift yourself but your head hurts too much and your soaked body is too heavy. And as you’re trying to get up, you see them: Cynthia crawls from the river, her body shattered and bloated, her eyes opaque, and nearby you can see Johnnie staring at you. His face is unchanged, but there’s blood streaming from his nose and mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes stay locked on you as Cynthia creeps ever closer, snarling and sobbing. 

*

The best thing about your job is that you get some actual human interaction. You’re happy to talk to the regulars and to the ones who just stop in. It’s not a glamorous place but it’s a few steps above a true dive. There’s a long-standing clientele, people who were coming here before the current owner bought the place. But young people are showing up with increasing frequency, people desperate to find cheap rents and willing to take a chance on a neighborhood that’s still pretty scary. In a few years, this whole area is going to be gentrified and places like the one where you work will be hip hotspots and if you want to stay unknown, you’ll have to move somewhere else. Perhaps by then, you’ll be able to live something like a normal life. Perhaps you’ll find a way to a decent apartment and you’ll be able to make actual friends. Until then, you make friendly chit chat with the motley mix of patrons and keep yourself to yourself. 

By law, you’re allowed to stay open until two but by about twelve-thirty or so, it’s always empty. Your boss has told you to lock up whenever it gets dead and trusts that you won’t just keep the place open to get an extra hour or two of pay. And you’ve never once taken advantage of him. Your nest egg means you don’t have to. 

But sometimes, you’ll lock the door and pour yourself a drink (that you pay for) and sit in silence, watching the streets through the tinted windows, the cars of hollering college kids, the prostitutes hurling insults at drivers who disrespect them, the occasional wide-eyed suburbanites and tourists who came because a couple of edgy websites recommended a couple of nearby restaurants for a sort of “authentic” experience of the city. 

Mostly, though, you find yourself watching for Him. 

You don’t know who he is. You don’t even know his name, much less his back story, but the second you see him, it’s like there’s nothing else that exists. He seems to own, or at least be in charge of, the place across the street, the shop that advertises tarot, palmistry, charms, amulets, books of secret knowledge, and more. It has an inappropriate-seeming neon sign that screams “FORTUNES TOLD” and there’s a collection of strange trinkets in the window in front of a black curtain that obscures the interior. 

Whatever goes on in there, the place keeps the weirdest schedule you’ve ever seen. You’ve taken to casing it, dropping by work when you’re not really needed so that you can try to discern a pattern, but there is none. Sometimes, the place is open in the afternoons. Sometimes, it opens in the early evening, around when your shift starts. Often, it opens during the night, or right at the end of your shift. Sometimes, it stays open all night, which you know because a couple of times you’ve sat here waiting it out. Other times, it’s like the place only opens for an hour or two. 

The erratic schedule doesn’t seem to bother customers, though. They’ll show up whenever, sometimes visiting the bar and waiting until they see the sign flicker to life. Whenever he’s there, people show up. Especially women. 

You can’t blame them for that. The first time you saw him, it was like all the oxygen was sucked out of your body. Your head started to throb a little and you shivered, despite the fact that it was summer. There he was, tall and muscular, his sleeveless shirt showing off his powerful arms, marked with tattoos. His dark hair was shaved at the sides but cascaded past his shoulders. He’s given to running his long fingers through it, the movement consciously slow and sensual, as if he knows he has an audience. Sometimes, he’ll come out and smoke a cigarette on the doorstep, stretching out every part of his long frame in a way that leaves your throat dry. 

He seems to know a lot of the people who come to see him, or perhaps that’s just part of the act: he wants people to think he’s been waiting for them. 

Tonight, it’s close to one when he shows up, casual as ever, and your eyes are fixed to him as he opens the security door and disappears inside. A moment later, the neon sign flickers to life. You bite down on your thumb as you imagine yourself crossing the street as if you’re just curious because you work so close, telling him that there’s a man you’re intrigued by but are too shy to approach, and asking him to do a reading to tell you if there’s a chance for you. 

You’ve imagined this before. You’ve imagined this a lot. It’s a fantasy you’ve thought about many nights in your gross little room, thinking of how he’d grab you and throw you down on the table, tarot cards scattering everywhere, maybe The Lovers falling next to the two of you as you indulge your wild passions… 

Once he’s been inside for a few minutes, you finish wiping up, packing the bottles into boxes for return, counting the cash, and starting the dishwasher. Your tasks completed, you head out, locking the door behind you. It’s only when you cut an inadvertent glance across the street that you see him on the step, eyes fixed on you. 

He takes a drag from his cigarette and smiles at you, and you give him what you hope is  a natural looking smile in return. 

You start to head down the street when you hear a deep voice behind you. 

“Nice night.”

He grins again when you turn to look at him, like he’s pleased he caught your attention. 

“Yeah,” you answer, “very nice.”

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment and just as you start to leave, he speaks again. 

“You should come by sometime. I’ll tell you your future.”

“I don’t know if I believe in that,” you stammer. 

“Give it a shot. It’s on the house.”

He drops his cigarette and grinds it into the pavement with his heel, giving you another wicked grin as he steps back into the shop. And part of you wants to go rushing in after him but you stop yourself, because on the off chance that he is the real deal, you don’t want to risk anyone finding out who and what you really are. Better to go back to your dank little room and imagine what could happen from the safety of your bed. Which is exactly what you’re going to do. 

*

A couple of nights later, he ups the ante. 

Around eleven, he saunters into the bar like he owns the place and gives you a look like he can’t believe you haven’t taken him up on his offer. 

It’s not busy but there are a few guys lined up along the bar and two or three clusters of people at the tables, and you’re on your own, which makes it tricky because all you want to do is crawl on top of him and tell him all the nasty thoughts you’ve had about him. This is made worse by the fact that he doesn’t ever seem to take his eyes off you, shifting however he has to in order to make sure he’s always got you in his field of vision. He’s being incredibly obvious and doesn’t seem to care. 

“So what can I get you tonight?” you greet him brightly, trying to choke back your nervousness. 

“You know how to make a whiskey sour?” he asks in a voice that’s almost unnaturally deep and earthy. 

“Yeah, honey, I think I can figure it out.”

“Well, give it a try but I’ll warn you, I’m a pretty fussy guy when it comes to cocktails.”

“Oh good,” you sigh, “a critic.”

Truthfully, you don’t remember exactly what goes into a whiskey sour and you have to Google it. Then there’s the fun of finding the right ingredients, although you’re pleased to find out that the bar actually has them. You resist the urge to make a test one for yourself because you wouldn’t know what it was supposed to taste like anyway and whiskey has never been your thing. 

When you go to place it on the bar in front of him, you feel a soft tremor run through your body, like you’re afraid of his judgment but also because, looking into his dark eyes, you feel this sense of fate. Yes, you’re attracted to him. You’re very attracted to him and you haven’t felt that in a while. And you have a bit of interest in what it is he does, whether he believes there’s magic and power in the things he sells or if he’s just making a few bucks off gullible people. You even catch yourself wondering if he could be the real deal. 

He notices your hand shaking and gives a wry smile. 

“Am I scaring you?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” you snap back, more curtly than you intended. 

He raises his glass to you. “Here’s to the power of a good, long rest.”

Your head starts to throb a little and unconsciously, you touch your forehead, willing it to stop. 

“Must have been a hell of an accident.”

That’s enough to distract you and you turn to face him again. “I’m sorry?”

“You just flinched like you were in pain and you touched your head. There’s a little scar where you touched it. So I’m guessing you were in an accident not too far back.”

You’d thought that the scar was healed enough that other people wouldn’t notice. No one had mentioned it to you but now you figure they were just being polite.

“Just a bump on the head. I made out ok.”

“But maybe someone else didn’t?”

Once again, your whole body shakes and this time, it’s like your skeleton becomes hot, burning hot, your ribs especially pressing with the force of iron tongs into your chest. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” you hiss, hardly able to make sound. 

He keeps smiling his mysterious little smile and takes a long sip of his drink. “This is pretty good. Especially for someone who hasn’t made one before.”

“I never said that I hadn’t made one before. Just like I never said I was in an accident with someone else.”

He takes another deep swallow of the cocktail and rises to leave. “But I’m right about both, aren’t I?” Seeing your scowl, he continues, “I’m Damian and I have a gift for knowing things about people. If you wanna see how much of a gift, like I said, you should come by and let me read your fortune.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You try to sound casual but you know, even before he smiles triumphantly, that you’re going to accept his invitation as soon as you close up for the night. 

[sparksinger]

lionheart

lionheart is finally finished and is up on both ao3 and fanfiction.net! 

ao3 lionheart

fanfiction.net lionheart

rating: mature 

content/trigger warnings: suicide mention, pregancy, childbirth, stillbirth. 

summary: optimus prime travels into space to find his creators while cordelia prepares for the arrival of her baby. what he discovers will change them both forever. 

________________________________________________________________

“Our story binds us Like right and wrong Your hand in mine Marching to the beat of the storm”

‘lionheart’ – demi lovato

A steady tattoo was beating inside Cordelia Prime’s skull.  It felt as if there was a vice attached to her head, squeezing it until she thought it would explode.  Inside her mind, she screamed.

Silver hands whirred and rested on her face; an oasis of cool paradise against the fire that seemed intent on devouring her.

“Lia?  Are you in pain?”

She struggled to open her green eyes.  Through her eyelids, she could see the faint shadow of Optimus Prime’s large frame looming over her.  She felt his weight settle next to her on the bed.  Since she’d been ill, Optimus had activated his holoform and had not left her side.

She brought a hand up to her face, that one action an Olympic effort.  It was as if there were 50-pound weight attached to each of her limbs and joints, and to move anyone of them seemed just as likely as humanity making it back to the moon.

Optimus was careful not to disturb the clear IV line going into the back of Cordelia’s left hand as he moved to sit beside her on the bed.

Her usually cream skin was devoid of any colour, not even the faint flush that was usually present in her freckled cheeks.  She sat up without warning and lurched forward, coughing.  Optimus realised what she needed and grabbed the bowl from where it sat beside the bed, simultaneously tidying her auburn hair off her face.

She propped herself up weakly on one elbow as she threw up into the proffered bowl.  She spat out shiny, stringy bile and eyed the contents of the bowl with thinly disguised disgust.  She took a small sip from the glass of water Optimus offered her and swilled it around her mouth before spitting it into the bowl.

She settled back against the pillows, the beat in her head reminiscent of war drums.

Optimus looked at her, his blue optics grave with worry and concern.  He gently pressed the back of his hand to her brow and simulated a sigh.

“Your fever is 101.6 degrees Fahrenheit.”  Wordlessly she reached for his hand and locked her fingers loosely around his.

Another shiver made its way through her body, causing her to involuntarily curl into the foetal position.

“That’s it.”  Optimus declared.  “I’m calling Jenny.”  Cordelia heard the quiet click that signalled the activation of his comm line.

She heard but did not listen to what Optimus was saying to Jenny.  All she cared about was being able to eat something or to even simply move without emptying her stomach at every opportunity.

The discovery of her pregnancy had been shocking enough, but three weeks on, Cordelia was beginning to grow accustomed to the idea.

At her twelve-week scan, when she’d vomited for the sixth time in under an hour, the technician had called a senior doctor in to examine her and he had diagnosed her with hyperemesis graviderum on the spot.

Cordelia kept hold of Optimus’ hand as he quietly chatted to Jenny.

“Yes, if you could come as soon as you can, that would be most appreciated.  No, I don’t think she needs hospitalisation.  The IV you set up yesterday seems to be doing the trick, but her fever is 101.6.  I’ll send Drift to come and collect you.”

He disconnected his comm line with a quiet click.  Cordelia found it within herself to open her eyes.  Optimus’ face was etched with concern, his lip plates turned down in a worried grimace.

He stroked her face gently, using the cool of his hand to abate some of the fire within her cheeks.

“How are you feeling little one?”

“Rough.”  Cordelia’s voice was dry and croaky from throwing up so much.  “Who would have thought that something so small could cause so much aggravation?”  Optimus chuckled and placed his hand over the small bulge that was present in her abdomen.

Cordelia smiled and put her own hand over his, interlocking their fingers.  “She’s not got the best timing, but I want her, so, so much.  I can’t explain it.”

Optimus raised an optic ridge.  “’She?’” Cordelia shrugged and smiled to herself.

“I don’t know why…I just see a girl when I picture her.”

“Is it something you wish to find out?  The gender?”  She shook her head.

“No.  Let’s leave it as a surprise.  Life needs a little mystery, don’t you think?”  He smiled in answer.

Abruptly, the steady drum behind Cordelia’s skull upped in its intensity.  She clutched at her head and scrunched her eyes tightly shut, trying to shut out the pain.

“What time is Jenny getting here?”  She asked through gritted teeth.

“Soon little one, I promise.  I’ve sent Drift to collect her.”

Cordelia nodded and rubbed the back of her hand over her forehead a few times.  “Okay.  Ugh, I’m sorry.”  Optimus lowered himself so that he was kneeling against the bed, bringing their faces level with each other.

“Sorry for what?  Lia, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

She made a loose gesture to the immediate surroundings.  Optimus waved her worry away and stood in one fluid motion.  “Jenny has arrived.  I will go and let her in.  I will be right back little one.”  He bent to brush his lip plates carefully along her hairline.

She felt the faint puff of air as he dissipated his holoform to meet Jenny downstairs.

As Cordelia waited for Optimus and Jenny to come upstairs, her thoughts found their way to the kindly midwife.

Jenny’s services had been provided by Joshua Joyce as a way of appeasing his own guilt.  The ranch had also been paid for in full, as well as Cordelia’s medical expenses and that of any children she had, for the rest of her life.

Jenny was a spirited woman in her early forties with a kick-ass attitude.  She was a slim, petite woman with a short, graduated honey-brown bob accentuated by chocolate brown eyes.

At their first meeting, Jenny had put Cordelia at ease right away.

“Hi hon, let me tell you this straight away, I am here to work for you and only you, okay?”

Cordelia smiled at the memory, reaching over to itch the back of her left hand where the plaster securing the IV cannula had begun to irritate her.

The bedroom door opened as Optimus and Jenny stepped through.  Jenny had been informed about Optimus and all the other Autobots and had taken it all in her stride.

Jenny made her way over to the bed, setting her bag down on the floor.

“Hey hon, the big guy tells me you’re not feeling too hot today.  Let’s have a look at you, shall we?  Can you sit up for me chick?”

Cordelia started to shuffle herself up into a sitting position, but Optimus hurried over to help.  He slipped his hands underneath her arms and effortlessly lifted her so that she was sitting comfortably up against the pillows.  His hands lingered for a few seconds before he pulled away.

“Is that okay for you Lia?”

She nodded and smiled at him weakly.  “It’s great, thanks Optimus.”  Jenny turned to look at Optimus.

“Hey, I could use a cup of coffee if you don’t mind?”  Optimus faltered for a second before smoothing his features into a warm smile.

“Of course, Jenny, Lia, I’ll get you some more water.”  Instead of simply deactivating his holoform and reactivating it downstairs, he walked slowly over to the bedroom door, shutting it quietly behind him.

Cordelia listened as his footsteps grew fainter and fainter as he made his way down the stairs.  She turned her gaze onto Jenny, who was busy digging various medical items out of her bag.

“He really adores you, doesn’t he?”  She secured a blood pressure cuff around the top of Cordelia’s thin arm, sticking her stethoscope underneath it before she began to work the pump.

“Yeah.  I’m lucky to have him.  He’s…he’s saved my life over and over, never asking anything in return.”  Her eyes took on a slightly glazed expression.

She wriggled her fingers as the cuff began to loosen on her arm.  Jenny chewed her lip thoughtfully.

“Hmm.  86 over 58.  Not too great Lia – a bit lower than I’d like to see.”  Cordelia lifted her gaze to meet Jenny’s.

“Is it something to be worried about?”

“Not worried as in, ‘you need to be in hospital,’ but worried as in ‘this needs to be a higher figure given the fact that you are sixteen weeks pregnant’”.”

“Okay, so how do we get it to where it needs to be?”

“Medication if necessary, but I want to avoid that where possible.  I brought some medication for your hyperemesis graviderum because you can’t keep getting all your nutrients from intravenous fluids.  When was the last time you actually had something to eat?”

Cordelia snorted, “what, ate something and kept it down?  About three days ago.”

Jenny sighed.  “We need to treat your hyperemesis gravidarum first if we’re going to improve your blood pressure.  You need to be able to eat and keep it down.”

“Trust me, it’s not for the want of trying,” Cordelia sighed and toyed absent-mindedly with the IV line.  “I’m literally eating the blandest food I can think of – I mean yesterday I had boiled rice and chicken, no salt, no pepper and within fifteen minutes it had reappeared.”

Optimus returned through the bedroom door; a mug of steaming coffee in one hand and a plate of rich tea biscuits in the other.  It was all Cordelia could do not to rip the plate from his grasp and stuff them all into her mouth in one go.

Jenny accepted the mug from Optimus’ proffered hand and took a deep swig before setting it down on the bedside table.  “So, what we discussed while you were downstairs –“

Optimus held up a hand.  “No need to repeat yourself Jenny.  We need to find an effective treatment for Cordelia’s hyperemesis gravidarum before we can begin to effectively treat her hypotension.”

Jenny whistled.  “Impressive, were you a doctor on Cybertron?”

“No,” Optimus said with a small shake of his head.  “However, I take any ailment that Cordelia may suffer from very seriously and thus make it my priority to learn as much about these conditions as I can.”

She smiled and tucked the blood pressure machine and cuff back into its little case.  “Fair enough.”   She turned her attention back to Cordelia.  “I’ve brought some medication for your nausea, okay?”  She produced a box from her breast pocket.  “This is Zofran.  It’s one of the stronger anti-nausea medications on the market, but one that my patients have claimed is among the more effective.  And yes, it is safe to use while you are pregnant.”

“How many can I take a day?”

“I’m going to start you on a lower dosage, but you can take three tablets within a twenty-four-hour period, but you must leave at least a four-hour gap between doses.”

Optimus swiped the box up from where it lay on the rumpled bed covers and opened it, withdrawing the little leaflet inside.  He looked at the first side for all of two seconds before flipping it over in a move so fast that it hurt Cordelia’s eyes just to look.

Jenny raised a brow.  “You read all that?”

Optimus offered her a wry smile and folded the leaflet neatly and slid it back into the box.  “All in here,” he said, tapping the side of his helm.

“Again, I’m impressed.  Now – Lia.  I want you to start taking these today and let me know how you’re getting on with them.  You’re to ring me if you get any worse or have a reaction to the medication.  Is there anything else you want to go through with me?”

Cordelia took a deep breath.  “Yeah.  I wanted to discuss birthing plans.”

Optimus stood and brought a chair over to the side of the bed.  He seated himself in it, leaning forwards on his knees with his hands clasped together.

Cordelia looked to Optimus for a little reassurance and he gave her one of his ‘meant for her only’ smiles that didn’t quite reach his mouth.

“I don’t want to have the baby in hospital.”  Seeing that Jenny was about to respond, she held up a hand.  “I don’t want to give birth in the hospital, because let’s face it, this isn’t exactly a ‘normal’ situation, is it?  As soon as I walk through any hospital doors, all of my control will be taken away.”  She turned to face Optimus.  “The world’s media know about you all now, the secret is out, and my face with it.  Once they find out that I’m pregnant, the rumours and the hearsay will start.  Staff at the hospital will be made aware of our…relationship, and I know that you would personally examine the history and possible threat of every single member of staff that would be coming into contact with me.”

Optimus made a noise similar to a throat being cleared and wiped his fingers over the corner of his mouth, as if wiping away an imaginary stain.

“Lia, I will stand by you, however or wherever you choose to have this baby.  I’ve got your back little one, now and always.”

Jenny smiled.  “Okay, well so long as you don’t encounter any serious complications through this pregnancy, I don’t see any reason why you can’t have a home birth.  I do have a question of my own though.”

Cordelia arranged her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck.  “Sure, what do you wanna ask?”

“Will you let me deliver your baby?”

A wide smile broke onto Cordelia’s face, lighting up all of her features.  Her eyes tilted upwards; her dark freckles prominent on the pale canvas that was her alabaster skin.  “Of course!  I wouldn’t have anybody else obviously.  Optimus, you’ll be there too, right?”

His optics grew misty as he leaned forward and grazed her cheek lightly with his knuckles.  “Little one, it would be my absolute honour.  Thank you.”

Jenny slapped her hands down on her thighs and rose from the bed.  “Great!  That’s settled then.  I’ll get the paperwork in motion and email the details to you.  Does that sound okay?”

“It sounds great Jenny, thank you so much.”  She leaned down and pecked Cordelia’s cheek, leaving behind a waft of floral perfume.

“No problem at all hon.  Please, don’t hesitate to call me if you have any concerns whatsoever.”  She gathered her things together and made her way over to the door.

Optimus got up and graciously took her bags, hanging them casually over his left shoulder.  “Ooh!  Tall, dark, handsome and a gentleman!  You wanna hang onto him nice and tight hon!”

Cordelia felt blood rush up her neck and flood her cheeks with heat.  Optimus shot her a ‘help me’ look as he escorted Jenny to the front door.

Cordelia smiled to herself and popped one of the Zofran tablets out of its blister and swallowed it down with a tiny bit of water.  She waited for the usual gag reflex to kick in, but nothing happened.

Let’s not walk before we can run Lia, she thought to herself.

She pushed the covers off her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.  Her pyjama trousers hung loosely on her protuberant hips.  She smiled wryly to herself.  Great, I’ve actually lost weight while I’m pregnant.  She wondered how many women would want to look how she did at sixteen weeks pregnant.  If only they wouldn’t mind living with the constant nausea.

Optimus reappeared then, nudging the bedroom door shut with his hip.  His optics widened and his mouth dropped open in a surprised ‘o’ when he saw Cordelia half in, half out of the bed.  It would have been funny if she had the energy to laugh.

He hurried over and detached the IV line from the cannula on the back of her hand.  “Lia, what are you thinking?  You-“

“I’m fine Optimus, please.  I’ve got to wash or have a bath or something.  I’ve been laying in that bed for two days and I feel absolutely disgusting.  Even if I just wash my hair.”

Optimus’ hydraulic joints hissed air out from between their housings – a sure sign that he was frustrated.  He ground his lip plates together, working hard to bury his frustration.  “Then please, allow me to assist you.  Please?”

She burst out laughing.  “Oh my God, are you actually pouting at me right now?”  He dropped his gaze from hers and she saw the corners of his mouth twitch.  She draped an arm around his neck.  “Go on then big guy, we both know you’re not gonna let me walk to the bathroom.”

He crossed his optics at her – his version of poking a tongue out.  He moved so that his left arm was secure around her back and shoulders, sliding his other arm underneath her knees.

He lifted her carefully, holding her against his chest, supporting all her weight with his upper body alone.  He walked carefully, not swinging her at all.  He turned sideways to pass through the en-suite, gently placing her down into the wicker chair that sat parallel to the bath.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah.  I think that pill is beginning to kick in.  I feel a little groggy, but I don’t think I’m gonna throw up.”  She paused, scratching the back of her neck.  “But...I do feel really shaky on my feet – Optimus, can I ask you something?”

He knelt, resting his hands on her knees and bringing their eyes level.  “Of course, you know you can ask me anything at any time.”

His voice was so sincere and so full of love that it made Cordelia’s throat ache.  She reached up and ran her fingers lightly over one of his ear finials.  He leaned into her touch, almost purring.

“Can you…can you help me?  I mean with washing and dressing.  I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do it on my own.”

“Lia, of course I will help you.  And please, don’t be embarrassed about asking me to do so.”

She stared at him, incredulity present in her green eyes.  “How did you know?”

Optimus chuckled, a warm vibrant sound that warmed Cordelia’s heart.  “Because I know you better than you know yourself.  Seeing you in any state will never, ever change my attitude towards you or affect my love for you.  I will love you come what may, Cordelia Prime.  Through thick and thin, you have my Spark.  Now and always.”

“I’m just worried about…about you seeing me naked.  I don’t want to change things between us.  I mean, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything, but I don’t love you romantically, and I know you don’t love me romantically and –” he placed a finger over her lips, silencing her.

“Easy little one.  You’re panicking.  Seeing you…naked as you put it, will not change my feelings for you.  You are right – I do not love you romantically, so seeing you in any state of undress will not affect me.  But, if it really makes you feel uncomfortable, why don’t you put your swimming attire on?”

Cordelia smiled and shrugged.  “You’re right.  It’s stupid to feel insecure.  I mean, Adam and Eve were okay about it, even if only for a little while.”

Optimus raised a metallic brow.  “Adam and Eve?  Oh, you are referring to ‘Genesis’, the first book in the Holy Bible.  I’ll start the bath.  I’m not going to let it get too deep just in case you begin to feel unwell.”  He got up and flicked the hot and cold taps on, holding one finger under the pouring water until he was satisfied with the temperature.  “Do you want to test it?”  He turned to look at her and she felt that all that was missing from the picture was a pair of half-moon spectacles on the end of his nose.

“No.  I trust you big guy.”  She watched Optimus as he searched through the bathroom, grabbing shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath and body wash.

He lined them all up along the edge of the bath.  Then he went into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out an elegant glass vase.

“What do you need that for?”  Cordelia asked, taking her hair out of the bun, and shaking it loose about her shoulders.

“It is for rinsing off your hair.  I don’t think that it is a good idea for you to get into the shower just yet.”  He turned the taps off and the water settled with a thick blanket of foamy bubbles resting on top.

Lavender and jasmine scents filled the room as Cordelia began to remove her clothes.  She slid her top off and left it in a rumpled heap on the floor.  Optimus respectfully turned away from her, his hands clasped behind his back.

She eased her trousers down over her hips and wriggled them off without needing to fully lift herself off the chair.  She got to her feet and promptly lost her balance, falling back into the chair with a soft plop.

“Damnit,” she muttered under her breath.

Optimus appeared wordlessly at her side and lifted her easily into his armoured arms.  He kept his blue optics on her face as he moved over to the bath, never once lowering them.

He stepped over the lip of the bath, lowering one foot into it as he did so.  He lowered her carefully into the water and as she was completely immersed in the warm water, she realised that the bubbles covered every intimate part of her body.

The water was simply delicious.  It caressed her tense muscles like the soft touch of an old friend.  She sat up against the wall of the bath, her legs stretched out in front of her.

Optimus filled the vase and poured the water carefully over her head.  He reached over and retrieved the shampoo bottle, deftly removing the cap and squirting some into the palm of the opposite hand.  He worked it up into a lather and started rubbing it slowly into her scalp.  He worked in slow circles, slowly growing bigger and bigger as he made his way from the crown of her head down to the nape of her neck.  No words were exchanged between them because they had already said all that had needed to be said.

She leaned backwards into the ecstasy that was his touch, relishing in the simplicity of it.  He ran his hands through her hair, working the shampoo into every strand.  “I love your hair, it’s so soft.  It takes on an entirely different texture when it’s wet.”

Cordelia snorted, turning to face him.  “Do you realise what you just said?”

He met her gaze with a perfect poker face.  “I’m perfectly aware of what I just said.”  His optics tilted upwards in one of his wry grins.  She chuckled and turned back around.

Optimus rinsed her hair, holding his hand over her brow so that the bubbles from the shampoo wouldn’t go into her eyes.  While Optimus was working the conditioner through the ends of her hair, Cordelia began to wash with the honey and vanilla scented body wash.  She grabbed the flannel and worked it over and under her arms and legs before washing in between her legs.

Optimus rinsed the last of the conditioner from her hair.  “Are you ready to get out little one?”

“Yeah.  I feel so much better already.  It’s amazing what a bath can do.”  He helped her out of the bath and wrapped a fluffy blue towel around her shoulders.

He darted into the bedroom and returned seconds later with a fresh t-shirt, underwear and sweatpants.  Cordelia used his proffered arm to balance while she quickly dried and dressed herself.  She wrapped her wet hair into the towel and turned to face Optimus.

“May I dry your hair?”  Cordelia went into the dressing table drawer and pulled out the hairdryer and a round brush.

“Sure!  Knock yourself out.”  She sat down in the chair he so graciously pulled out for her.

She watched his reflection in the mirror, the way his hands gently rubbed the worst of the damp out of her hair with the towel.  He began to guide the brush in smooth strokes through her dark hair, brushing back the shorter pieces of hair that had been her fringe a month ago.

She’d decided to let it grow out.  Being pregnant seemed to have kicked her hair growth into overdrive, and she’d put on two inches in the last six weeks alone.  Not to mention it was much thicker and shinier than it had ever been before.

He turned the hairdryer on and separated the hair into sections, his optics intent on the task at hand.  She watched as he brushed her hair down and under.

Twenty minutes later, he took out the section clip and let her hair fall in loose auburn waves about her shoulders.  He arranged it so that some was sitting evenly on her shoulders.  She looked at him in the mirror.

“Well, I’ll just have to start calling you Vidal Sassoon!”  At his confused expression, she waved her hand dismissively.  “Don’t worry; it doesn’t matter.”

She pushed the chair out from beneath her and moved to gingerly stand.  Optimus’ hands hovered nervously near her arms, ready to catch her should she need him.  At that moment, her stomach decided to emit a thunderous rumble.  “Oh my God, I’m so hungry.”  Optimus swept her up into his arms.

“Allow me to rectify that then,” he said with a wink.  He carried her down the stairs and set her down on the plush leather couch.  “What takes your fancy?”  He clapped his hands together, his metal palms making a soft pinging sound.

“Hmm…something salty?”

“I think I may have just the thing – a cheese and bacon omelette?”  Cordelia’s mouth started to water.

“Oh my God, yes please.  That sounds amazing.”

He grinned at her and then set to work in the kitchen.  Cordelia rose slowly up off the couch and made her way slowly through to the kitchen.

She sat herself in one of the oak dining chairs and leaned forward on her knees, watching Optimus as he prepped the necessary ingredients for her omelette.

He tapped three eggs open with his index finger and poured them into a jug.  He produced a whisk and began to stir the eggs in a whir of red, blue and silver.  The frying pan on the hob began to spit lightly.  He placed the jug down on the worktop and tossed in the bacon and tomato, seasoning it with salt and pepper.  He poured in the eggs and added a splash of milk.  The contents of the pan sizzled when he added the grated cheese.

The ingredients began to bind together, and just as Cordelia thought it was done, Optimus swiped the pan off the hob and stuck it under the grill.

“That’s the secret; it gets cooked evenly on the top and the bottom.  It also disperses the flavour more effectively.”  He grasped the pan and slid the omelette out of it and onto a plate with more flourish than even the most qualified chef.

He set it down before her with a glass of water.  “Bon appetit!”  He proclaimed, theatrically kissing his fingers with a soft click of his lip plates.

“Oh my God Optimus, you are such a dork,” she said as she dug her fork into the yellow mixture.  She popped a mouthful in, and it was gooey and mushy in all the right places.  The flavours exploded in her mouth, the strong taste of salt from the bacon and the sweet tangy taste from the tomatoes.

She finished it in record time, placing her knife and fork down on the plate.  She waited nervously for the usual feeling of nausea to claw its way up her throat, but nothing came.  Optimus cleared the table and began washing up.

“Did you enjoy that little one?”

She nodded.  “Yes, thank you.  It was absolutely delicious.”

“Are you feeling nauseous at all?”

“No thankfully.  I think those pills are doing the trick.”

“That is marvellous.  I’m so glad they are making a difference already.”  He dried the frying pan and hung it back up on the rack above the sink.

Optimus walked over to the couch and sat down on it, patting the vacant space next to him.  “Do you want to watch The Green Mile?”  In answer, Cordelia grabbed the thick blanket from the back of the couch and draped it around herself before sitting against Optimus.

His arms moved to fit her body and he sat with his chin resting gently on top of her head.  His left hand found its way down to the faint bulge in her abdomen, resting loosely on top.

Suddenly, Cordelia felt a fluttering sensation behind her naval.  She and Optimus shot into sitting positions at the same time.

His face was full of wonder.  “Did you just…”

“Feel that?”  She finished, slightly breathless.

Each of their faces broke into a wide smile and they embraced each other, rejoicing in the first movements of Cordelia’s baby.

[palettes-and-prompts]

Prompts Based on the Song Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia / Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to Fusiform Gyrus) by Will Wood & The Tapeworms

Dialogue Prompts

1) "Where'd you learn to dance?" "My grandmother. Where'd you learn to steal?" "My grandmother." 2) "They're trying to catch us and if we hadn't been the way we are they would have caught us." "Pieces of shit." "You know what this means right?" "We take them for every fucking thing they own." "Goddamn right we do." 3) "You know, you've got the smile of a devil." "And you've got the eyes of an angel." 4) "Well, you found me." "I did." "Are you going to steal the money?" "I am." "And what about me? Are you going to let me go?" "No. I think I'll steal you as well." "Are you sure? I'm quite worthless." "No, baby, you're priceless. If anything, you're the only thing in this vault worth stealing." "Then what are you waiting for? Steal me." 5) "Why would you want to leave with them?" "You don't understand. Person A and I don't even need words. We just look at each other and know exactly what the other is thinking. It feels like they're the one." "Them? You barely know them!" "I know what I feel! And it's more powerful than anything I've ever felt in my life. Like the piece that's always been missing is just right." 6) "You've got one bullet in that gun. You'd better hit me with it because if you don't I'll snap that pretty neck." "You wouldn't hurt me." "And you wouldn't shoot me. So put the gun down, baby, let's talk about this." 7) "We gotta run, babydoll, it's not safe here." "What about Paris? You said we could go." "Then Paris is where we'll go. But first...how do you feel about dyeing your hair blond?" 8) "You think you can catch me? I'm a demon, you couldn't catch me if you tried." 9) "Did you find Person A?" "Yeah, it took 15 officers to get A into the car because they kept fighting them and complaining that they'd never let themselves be taken alive to prison." "Yeah...you definitely found A alright." 10) "You need to run, I'll hold them off. You escape." "What? No." "You've got more charge, they'll kill you if you don't run. At most I'll get life, maybe less." "I should stay." "Go. Go catch the train and when it's safe-" "I'll come back for you, bust you out." "You're brilliant, love." "I love you." "I love you too. Now go!"

Regular Prompts

1) A is a traveler who goes from city to city stealing from the rich and only taking care of them self. But when they see Person B who's rich and incredibly good looking they decide they're the treasure in the city they want to take for themselves. They get dressed up and go to a ball posing as a rich person and spend the whole night dancing with Person A. None of that slow dancing like everyone else tries with B at the party. They pay the band to play something jazzy and swing dance with them most of the night giving B the time of their life and when the night's over the two haven't said a single word but they're absolutely in love and their hearts are pounding. B's fiance/fiancee is incredibly pissed but B's ready to throw it all away the second A asks if they wanna get out of there. The two then become notorious for traveling from city to city dancing in ball rooms and stealing from the rich all for themselves. When they finally have too much they decide to open a dance academy with a special class for the children who are incredibly good at dancing. They end up adopting some kids and training them to dance and steal. One big wholesome crime family. 2) A and B are two rival thieves competing to be the most well known thief and gain a reputation so others will want to hire them for bigger jobs. When they end up getting stuck in a room the day before the heist they both figure out that the police already know about the heist because the whole thing is a setup to catch A and B. The two are furious and decide to work together to take them for everything they've got before the heist. When they get away with everything and split it 50/50 they decide they're actually a pretty good team and have a few things they could teach each other. They decide to be partners and from that point on only do bigger jobs with people they know and have worked for. (Could be romantic between the two but doesn't have to be.) 3) It's around 1920 and A is a gangster on the run who robs the rich and is known for giving back to the communities in each new city or town they go to. They're part of a group who is known for robbing banks and burning mortgage notes freeing people from their debt. They're constantly on the edge of being caught but no one will come forward as a witness because they see Person A as a person for the people. Person B is a cop who is constantly chasing them. The two never admit it but they enjoy their chases and it gets their blood pumping. Eventually Person A and Person B share a phone call without anyone being able to trace them and Person B admits they admire them and never really wanted to bring them in, they just wanted to see if they could catch them. Person A tells them they're the only one who ever came close. B tells them they're quitting the police force and deciding to work in a bank dealing with numbers since they're better at Math than most people. A's laughs and B asks if they should worry about their money being taken and A admits that B should worry about being stolen since they're the most valuable thing in the place. 4) A is someone who used to have magic but no longer has it anymore trapped in a small cell for years. Person B ends up getting lost and finds them, asking what happened and A takes a chance and tells B about their magic and that if they free them they'll help them achieve their dream. B's dream is to not feel so alone. A agrees to create friends for them, ones who will know everything they need to to be a good friend to them. They also say they'll help B get the person of their dreams to like them. B's happy and helps A get out, only to find that A was trapped because they were dangerous. B expects A to kill them or leave but A decides to take B along with them as their apprentice and teaches them magic telling them they'll wreak havoc across the land. They make potions to turn people into into animals and cast spells to make people just forget how to understand the language they were born speaking to inconvenience everyone. B ends up having a lot of fun and tells A they could do this for the rest of their life. A offers them immortality and a life with them. B's surprised but takes the offer and decides to form a relationship with A (romantic or not) and live with them forever. 5) A is a demon who causes trouble all over town and can't be caught because they've got the ability to disappear. When B gets blamed for all of A's actions they're pissed and decide to figure out A's weaknesses and catch them and make them unable to run invisible. B reads books and decides that the only way to beat A is to become a demon. B ends up becoming a demon in exchange for giving their humanity to Person A. Person A is immediately jailed and B then begins causing trouble all over the place, leading people to believe it's all A. A becomes a demon again through a witch deal and when they're a demon they chase after B to make them pay for everything. The two begin a chase around the world only they can win and soon grow fond of the chase and insist on doing one every few weeks when they can't shake the energy they get. Eventually they become close either romantically or platonically and they respect each other more.

[teacherintransition]

Go it Alone?

During this transition of life from teacher to seeker of dreams, it is very much a solitary trek fraught with missteps and rethinking.

If you’re just heading for the rocker, your choice, easy... if you are making a life change, the supportive partner from the old life is a valuable treasure.

The day in Nacogdoches is magnificent; 73 degrees, brilliant sunshine, bright blue sky, a gentle ten mph breeze making the leaves engage in a graceful dance ... it is an almost perfect day. Unlike the two previous days of gray, gloomy rain which did nothing to motivate the writer in me to put pen to paper; that phrase is antiquated, but sounds so much more lofty in tone than, “putting keyboard to screen.”

My thoughts these last two days have been occupied with what I would usually be doing as a teacher for the previous 30 years. The closing down process of a school year is almost instinctual at this point, except I’m not doing it this time. I feel very out of place missing the emotional state and process that is so memorable to a teacher. No, not the obligatory jamming of Alice Cooper’s, “School’s Out for Summer” out of every school PA system nationwide, which is pretty damn cool. It is one of the reaffirming times that a teacher loves, the visible achievement of making it through the year, seeing kids meet goals and surpass them, the establishing of bonds with young people that will last a lifetime, the camaraderie with colleagues, the farewell to those moving on or retiring ... retiring ... the transition. Truly feeling out of place and time. Despite the braggadocio of so many who proclaim, “I ain’t ever lookin back” ... go forth I suppose, but if you were in education for the “right” reasons you can’t help but look back and wonder. If you don’t ... even just a little, why did you become a teacher in the first place? Ah, I digress... onward and forward with ye vaunted transition.

Many wonder, I did, what makes the transition easier? I’ve discussed ad infinitum the need for a plan, activity, a purpose... of being able to rest (a little bit) on your laurels and find yourself. As a means of a cooperative, communal working through being a dedicated educator to a retired seeker of self actualization; I feel that all aspects are up for examination. I cautiously broach this topic because it somewhat treads upon the grounds of relationship advice. I’m happily married and it was NOT an easy road without potholes and obstacles. Painful, difficult, heartbreaking, frustrating at times yes; but any successful point is only achieved through such struggle. Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Brent and Kim Rich... you’ve overcome raising three boys, a mortgage, being overdrawn, personal struggles and you’ve reached your 34th anniversary... smooth sailing here on out. Except the arduous process of getting “mature,” empty nesting and the sad passing of family from the previous generation.... AND ... Brent is retiring! Instant gut check. All I have is personal experience, anecdotal observations and arbitrary wisdom that may or may not apply to you the reader.... it also falls under the umbrella of “MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!”

The relationship with your partner is a vital consideration; in for a penny...in for a pound. If your marriage(s) have made it this far, the “R word”... retirement is a joint venture, and, for that matter, a venture that your kids will have input regarding. You might be thinking, “I ANSWER TO NO ONE,” or “I’VE EARNED THIS ... I DESERVE THIS!” Silly rabbit... to quote Clint Eastwood (I love doing that), “deserves got nuthin to do with it,” as you’ll find out.* As I write this, there are three friends whose retirement plans have just become victims of a monkey wrench. I’d be foolish as would my wife if we didn’t know that destiny turns on a dime. “No man is an island entirely of itself. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind,” brilliantly stated by John Donne. ** Now that the intangibles have been addressed, let’s delve into more concrete realities.

You and your spouse, partner, soul mate, fellow traveler must be somewhat on the same page and hopefully have been for a number of years leading up to this decision. If you are uncompromising... then expect fallout from spouses, children, friends and family... not total or irrevocable or permanent... but maybe. Being uncompromising with the intangibles is pointless... being uncompromising with the others in your life; expect a price to be paid. We are all in this together and friends and family are often by choice. On the other side of the coin, friends and family should be somewhat accommodating to your dreams... fate and destiny may not give a whit ... but you’re loved ones should as you should to them.

Let’s move away from unpleasant, confrontational possibilities to those built on a partnership that didn’t grow apart but grew together. Long before you hit your 50’s, this path of common goals should have always been the objective. Raising a family and navigating careers should be an enriching experience, but all too often it can be the reason a couple grows apart. Hisham Matar’s book, A Month in Siena, continues to be a treasure trove of wisdom. He offers this warning for couples and people in general who allow themselves to grow apart:

Growing apart has a consequence which will surely follow. What lies beyond are longings in nostalgia and this needs to be accounted for what it is.... if, what the people thinking here is a true hell is not; the true hell is realizing you are not being recognized by those closest to you.***

If you intentionally keep the commonality of each other’s goals, dreams and objectives in mind, you shouldn’t discover a stranger when retirement decisions come around. The relationships with family and friends and relating to oneself introspectively are to be visited often. You can become a stranger to yourself as well as those close to you perhaps even shutting to yourself off to everyone. Again from Matar:

We met at a place they like appearing to be standing there with the optimism of successful people. An unexpected turn in the conversation began to confess such inconsolable disappointments regarding their lives and careers; veiled sentiments that seemed to conceal powerful criticisms of one another. Each listed with the head of blame and quiet violence that some couples are capable of, all the missed opportunities, the roads not taken and now uncorrectable regrets****

That bleak outcome can be turned inward all too easily. Be open ... to those in your life, many heartaches can be avoided.

So, let’s say that the work has been put into relationships and an understanding and respect of one’s goals have become shared goals or visions; you’ve not only avoided conflict, but obtained support and encouragement for what can be a risky set of plans. My wife has been able to read me sometimes better than I can read myself... with the shared effort given. Without trying, we started to share common dreams; we didn’t plan on that 20 years ago (truth be told 20-25 years ago was a rough patch)... we started sharing what we hoped to achieve, helped each other on the difficult steps we were then experiencing and talked ... who’d have thought? This is our path and is not a guarantee that both sides will depart at point A and arrive at the same point B; but the odds improve even though neither can anticipate those rascally intangibles. You chose each other for a reason, you raised a family together for that reason... don’t hide what you want from each other or from your friends for that matter. Do Kim and I share a common general outlook? Absolutely. Does that outlook appear identical to each of our visions? No... c’mon nothing worthwhile will come that easy. Are we facing compromise? Sure, and is it worth it? To have someone to share dreams, to encourage you when roadblocks appear, to validate your vision... it absolutely is worth it. Go it alone? Not the most desired outcome... we are social creatures, we need each other ... as long as “give and take” is understood, it will be ok in the final picture.

But, I will live in Italy ... you’ll see you will all see ...(end with maniacal laughter)

*Eastwood, Clint; The Unforgiven

**Donne, John; No Man is an Island

***Matar, Hisham; A Month in Siena

****Matar, Hisham; A Month in Siena

http://labibliotecacoffee.com/

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What about an au where Mic is a volunteer for animal shelter and/or is a veterinarian? I like that you included a pet in my last ask so I thought I would be nice to think about him taking care of animals of any kind 💗 Thank you again cutie! 💖

A/N: Cutie?? Aww i blush /// Vet Headcanons coming right up!! Thanks for requesting babe! Love you and please request again! Happy New Year!

-YES THE MAN LOVES ANIMALS

-Let’s just say in this AU quirks and hero’s weren’t a thing so he has to have another career choice and that is dun dun da dunnnnn….Being a veterinarian.

-Ever since a young age he was in love with animals, from birds to turtles. This man had books and pounds of research on all of them. He might can’t name all 50 states but he surely can name every species of bird in the amazon rainforest known to man. 

-At first in his highschool years he Volunteered at local animal shelters and pet shops. 

-Just to see if he was really cut out to do it, you know? Like he wanted to be a D.J. but then realised how hard it was and was like “uM nO.”

-On his first day he loved it sooo sooo much

-He came back everyday for his four years of High School. Never missing a day from the shelter haha. The animals loved him too.

-There was this dog, it was a golden retriever, it was an abandoned dog and never really had a real home or anything. It was a very shy and scared dog like no one could touch it without it wailing or snapping. BUt when Yamada came to it, it loved him instantly.

-He was the only one who could bathe it or feed it or even walk it. He adopted it highkey and named him Lucky uwu.

-H knew without a doubt he needed to study to become a vet. He needed to protect and love those animals because no one else would. 

-So after years of hard work and training, you are now looking at Dr.Hizashi.

-The first thing he would do is take all of his money and dump it into making his very own Vet. Like he’s been planning to have his own for YEARS. Let me tell you he already has his business name, card, plan, and he knew the place he wanted to have it at. This man was not playing at all.

-His Vet is called “Hazashi’s animal care.”

-YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS IS NOT HIS CATCH PHRASE “Happy Pet, Happy Vet.” 

-His Vet is like one of those small local ones that look way too nice to be in the neighborhood it’s in. It’s very nice inside, it looks like the Hilton if it were a Vet. 

-You’d also think the prices would be sky high because how nice and well put together everything is. Nope! His services are cheap but his skills aren’t!  It’s his way of giving back to the community and helping out those who cannot afford such things. He doesn’t believe in wiping out someone just because their animal got sick.

-At first his business was very slow, only maybe one or two people coming in. So he mainly picked up strays off the streets and got them well and healthy.

-There were a lot of stray kittens near him like he was soooo soft I swear!! He would cuddle up with them and warm them up. Sometimes he’d fall asleep in his office with a bunch of tiny kittens curled up on him. It was sooo cuteeeee.

-Although business was slow, it picked up more in the summer/spring time

-He 100% lets kids and teens volunteer for school credit or just something to do. He absolutely doesn't mind because he enjoys learning about his community and teaching young people about animals. 

-He has special days where children get to meet and take care of some of the stray kittens he has.

-Onetime a kid asked him to come to his school for career day so he could “Show the class how cool he is.”

-So like Hizashi came in with a few animals he was taking care of and showed the class and explained to them the importance of caring for you animals. It was so cool and he kept the class very engaged and they even let him stay an extra block since it was really informative.

-So now every other friday at the local school, he has a Thrive class where he can come and talk to kids.

-LIKE I SAID AND I WILL ALWAYS STAND BY THIS LITTLE KIDS LOVES HIZASHIIIIIIII👏👏👏👏

-He teams up with some of the teenagers and have bake sales and carwashes to raise money for endangered species all over the world.

-Sometimes he goes to the older citizens home, and let some of them pet the little baby kittens and puppies he has. It really brings a smile on their face and makes them feel loved. 

-100% trying to set him up with their daughter

-“HaVe i tOlD yOu mY dAuGHteR lOveS aNimAls anD yOunG bloNDe mEn SuCh aS yOuReSelf.”

-it cracks him up let me tell you.

-“uH hAHa...THATS cOol.”

-He found a hurt baby duck at the park he was at, he immediately rushed it to his shop, and nursed it back to health. He would not let the birdy walk at all, he would always carry it around or have it on his chest.

-HE WAS HECKA SAD TO LET IT BACK IN THE WILD I SWEAR AND HE CRIED SEEING IT REUNITE WITH ITS FAMILY 

-Oh! His dog Lucky!! He helps out around the Vet too. By helping I mean staying under Yamada’s Desk and taking the meanest nap, and occasional barking when someone comes in.

-No but he’s a good boy and he’ll go fetch things for hizashi and play with the kids while their parents are doing business.

-Giving hizashi giving the animals a bath is the cutest thing. He’s singing nursery rhymes while gently scrubbing the soap in. Wraps them in the BIGGEST towel and cradles them in his arms it’s so cute. The animals 100% falls asleep  in his arms while he’s organizing the medication. 

-When he has to give them a shot, he distracts it by doing little magic tricks or holding up a treat.

-Every Animal has its own food bowl, varying in sizes and colors depending on the animal and personality.

-He has nights where he stays overnight in his store doing paperwork and such.  He’s such a perfectionist, he cannot sleep unless he knows everything is over and how it’s supposed to be. I love him

-OKAY BUT IMAGINE IT...HIZASHI IN A DOCTOR'S COAT, WITH HIS HAIR ALL MESSY AND TIED UP, AND HE’S BEING ALL SMART DOING PAPERWORK WORK!!  ARE YOU PICTURING IT ERWIN???? ARE YOU PICTURING IT ERWIN?!?! BECAUSE I HAVE A PRETTY VIVID IMAGE IN MY HEAD.

-(kudos if you understood that reference)

-Birds are his favorite animals to get. Like healing their wings and then having them fly around the office. It’s so nice to see how free and unpredictable they are. So like he spazzes every time Someone brings in a birdieeee.

-“oNNansmh OH mY oMhy GOoDNeSs i-Is ThaT a BLuE Budgerigar?!!?!! aHhAHh yoU mInD iF I tAKe a PiCtUrE oF iT.”

-

BoUnS

Since i took so long to answer this, you get a Happy new year bonus!

-He spends The new year at the pet shop. Like He brings in a small little T.V. so he can watch the ball drop with the animals he has there with him.

-They are all cuddled in the lobby with a bunch a fluffy blankets, wearing matching New year hats!! Ahh it’s so cute

- The store has such a warm, cosy feeling. It reminded him of the times he’d spend with his family. A pure, more gentle time.

-Just a few seconds before the ball drops, Hizashi takes a deep breath in, inhaling all of the warm memories and joyful spirit that was floating around.

-He’s at peace with his life and everything around him. In one year he was able to make the shop of his dreams and meet amazing people with it.  He had his best friend Lucky, and all the cute animals that he is able to comfort. It was really all he wanted. He thanked GOD for everything.

-”I’m finally happy.” he breaths out with the biggest smile on his face. Giving a small kiss on lucky’s ear, and ruffing his fur he mutters, “Happy New Year.”

[thenuanceddebater]

Personal Post: Why I Disappear

Alright. This has been a long time coming. This might be one of the most open, personal, etc. posts that I’ve made on this blog. I’m not going to hide anything (save for some identifying details), and I’m going to go through messy stuff like emotions and whatnot. So, I’m putting it under a read more. Please do not think that you need to read this if you don’t want to. 

When I first started this blog, I was in undergrad and almost failing out. I had some family issues going on with my grandfather (who is now deceased due to what I could charitably call medical malpractice to the point where it helped change a national procedural standard), and I was hurting. I didn’t have many (or really any) friends, and I needed something to vent to. I made an account to shout into the void – to post long content that wouldn’t ever really get popular or any traction whatsoever for my own benefit. I needed a place where I could yell at people and feel smart. I really didn’t think anything would ever happen, or that I’d even get like... 50 followers.  And then my content it kind of... did take off to  a degree. 

I wasn’t really prepared for that, but at the time it was really fun. I’ve got a bit of an obssessive/ addictive personality, and tumblr became an addiction. At first, that was okay. I was involved in the culture-war discourse, but not really taking it any more seriously than I took other things. I had a summer internship during summer 2016 where I would make tumblr posts when I didn’t have enough work to do, and enjoyed talking to some of the friends I made on this platform. Then it got bad. I started disagreeing with people on “my side,” the 2016 election happened and I felt isolated from the left and the right, and the alt-right started to become a real thing on this website. 

Charlottesville is what finally killed it for me. I saw so many people I had at least some respect for trotting out positions that were not only wrong, but odiously wrong. I had acquaintances, classmates, good friends who were affected there. Who were on the ground when it happened. And I know a lot more about Charlottesville than most people on this website. I got sick and tired of having to defend myself, of having people who didn’t know what they were talking about speak back on issues that they did not fully understand. At that point, tumblr became toxic for me. And it’s never really come back. It just took me a while to realize it. 

I deleted the tumblr app from my phone in fall 2017, and it’s never come back. I took what was originally intended to be a 3 month sabbatical from tumblr, and then realized that I didn’t want it back in my life. It had kind of... fulfilled its purpose, and I was on to new things. I got a job, and started studying for law school. Then I got into law school. Tumblr was the last place I made that announcement. I used the fact that I had “gotten busy” as an excuse, but that’s not fully accurate. Yes, I was and am very busy. But if I really wanted to, I could make time to post. Maybe not the pages, upon pages, upon PAGES that I used to. But something. What it really was is that I no longer wanted to. The way this website works, at least on the political side, pushed me away. 

Alright, now a MAJOR confession time. I have a lot of anxiety. As in, diagnosed “I went to therapy for a year to help deal with it” anxiety. I’m not in therapy anymore, and I cope with it pretty well (especially compared to some people I know and have a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for). I’m privileged in that regard. So many people have it worse. But, there are still certain things that trigger an immediate strong anxiety response. One of them is seeing that I have notes that aren’t just reblogs or likes. For some reason, when I see a number above that little lightning bolt (or when I saw the activity tracker go crazy on older tumblr) it just makes my heart start pounding. It’s not that I think I might be wrong. I still welcome correction and critique of my opinions. It’s not that I don’t want people to reblog my stuff, or comment on it. That’s (1) not my choice and (2) absolutely silly. 

It’s more that I’m anxious about how the response is going to make me feel. Some of the angriest I’ve been in recent memory is reading tumblr posts. The angriest I’ve been since the whole... grandfather who was like a father to me died due to medical malpractice thing was when I read a response to a post I made about genocide. The second angriest is when I read a response to a post about Charlottesville. The angriest I’ve been in recent memory is when I read that post that brought me back to the website where people were encouraging others to resist unlawful arrest and citing to a case that was outdated. 

I’m not an angry person. I don’t like annoying myself like that. But for some reason, I just can’t help myself sometimes. The number of times I’ve been annoyed enough to want to respond to something in recent memory is... quite high. Sure, there are times where I come back just because I want to check my messages, see something positive, or a question and then am inspired to write something. But that’s not what it usually is. Not really. It’s usually the educator/ elitist in me who wants to correct something that he sees as wrong. And when that thing is dangerously wrong or disingenuously wrong, well that creates some emotions considering that I like to believe that people operate in good-faith and this website really stretches that belief sometimes. And sometimes I can deal with that, and sometimes it really, really bothers me. 

I’ve also discovered that I really don’t get very much from tumblr. I used to use it as shouting to the void, and as an activity I could do other than just playing video games and procrastinating on my school work. Well, I do a lot of things now. I have a lot of friends now, and more school work and obligations to student organizations, law journals, my summer internships, etc. I used to use tumblr as a way to feel like I was smart. To feel like I mattered and that I could do great things. I have other ways of doing that, as well as a lot more internal self-esteem and external validation of that self-esteem. Back when I made my tumblr, I was convinced that I was a bad person. Now, I know I’m not, and am in fact a pretty good person. Back when I made my tumblr, I had no outlet for the intellectual energy other than my long-term girlfriend and school work. Now, I have so many outlets for that energy, that it’s honestly mindboggling. Oh, and I still have that same now very-long-term girlfriend (just in case anyone was curious. Our ten year anniversary is next year. I’m 25. I’ve been dating this woman for almost 40% of my life. And she’s honestly fucking amazing, brilliant, and I’m so damn lucky to have her.). It’s not like I’m starved for interaction or avenues to pursue anymore. When I made my tumblr, I was convinced that I’d fucked my life up to such a degree that I was never really going to be able to un-fuck it. Now, I’ve shown myself that I was wrong. I was really, really wrong. About a lot of things, but especially that. I’m not the same person as when I made my tumblr. Not at all. And that’s a really good thing. 

But when I go and look at some other people, some other blogs that I used to follow/ still follow (I’m not going to name names), I don’t see that kind of change. I see that they are still the same (or very similar) people. It’s been years. They’re talking about the same things, using the same words, etc. That’s... crazy to me. When I logged on to tumblr this fall and I saw that fucking Charlottesville was somehow still a debate topic, I just about lost it. There’s a post I made that accurately summarizes some of the emotions I felt, but really a lot of it was that this website is Neverland. If you stay here, you likely never grow up. All that happens is that the Wendys, Johns, and Michaels decide that they want to grow-up, and leave to go and do so. So, all that’s left are the Peter Pans and Captain Hooks engaged in constant warfare about the same things for weeks, months, years. And when a Wendy, John, or Michael decides to come back well. Neverland is still the same. Welcoming them back to the same fight that they remember from years ago – from when they were a different person. I don’t know why, but that’s just so damn sad to me. There’s a reason why my old bio said “just a human striving endlessly for the perfection that he can never hope to attain.” Because that’s what I do. And tumblr has kind of an... anathema to that and is antithetical to the concept. 

So, tumblr gives me little to nothing, pisses me off, and its never-changing or evolving nature makes me sad and goes against my very being. So, why come back at all? That’s... a damn good question. Not really sure that I can answer it. I suppose the answer has to be that there’s no good reason to come back, but that I will likely continue to do so anyway. Call me a masochist if you must, but sometimes there’s something that I want to share (or that I think the people who SOMEHOW still follow this dead-ass blog should know), or an idea that I think is useful, or I just so happen to type a “t” on my keyboard and tumblr gets pulled-up and I see something and decide to post on it, etc. and I come back. VERY temporarily. Only until I’m pulled away or driven away again. I think that’ll probably keep happening. At least to some degree. 

Will I ever come “back” like I was in undergrad or the summer before I got my job? I don’t know. Signs point to “no,” but I’ve been wrong before. I’ve been oh so very wrong before. And maybe I’m wrong about what tumblr gives me. Maybe I can have a healthy relationship with this website to the point where the reblogs don’t give me anxiety, and I’m not either sad or angry (to some degree) when I make a response. But right now, I really doubt it. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone, but that’s just where I am right now. 

So yeah. I think that’s it. I’ll be around temporarily right now (my internship has really good hours, and I’ve got time in the evenings before I game with friends and talk to my girlfriend to take a look at some things). But come the end of August, I’ll likely be gone again. Maybe even before that. I’m not going to close this blog (because I’ll likely be back again), but content or opinions are never going to be consistent. 

If anyone wants to talk, feel free to message me, send an ask, etc. Seeing as I’ve basically dumped a lot of stuff at once (and broken some of the wall separating “TND” from me as a person) I’m down to answer pretty much anything. 

[my-one-true-l]

the wammy boys(besides beyond) turning evil for tragic reasons? I'd love you to try writing microfics of this! ^^

Hello Dear Anon! I am so sorry these took so long! I Hope you enjoy! 🖤

CW: guns, drugs, violence, murder, betrayal…it’s all in there.

L

L looked out the window at the snowflakes drifting heavily to the ground, coating everything in white.  He kept the lights off to assure no glare would interrupt the only calm he was able to find.

The manilla envelope lay on the desk, mocking him with its contents sprawled across the cold, hard surface.

The words “Insufficient evidence” and “unreliable witnesses” stared up at him, as well as “suspects released” and “no arrests made”. But there were two words, ten simple letters that taunted him the most. “Case closed”.

The photos of the crime scene were like a dream he couldn’t quite remember, familiar yet distorted. They brought him right back to the day he convinced himself never happened, that it was nothing more than a memory of a child’s overactive imagination.

The once comforting click of dress shoes alerted him to Watari’s presence.

“L, why are you sitting in the dark?”  Watari’s smile faded as his eyes landed on the envelope. “Where did that come from?”

“It doesn’t matter how I obtained it.” His voice, angry and hollow. “This entire time you knew who they were and you kept it from me.” His tones, biting and accusatorial towards the man he had grown to love like a father.

“You were just so young and when you were old enough…I didn’t want you to ever have to think about it again.” The older man stumbled over the words as they left his mouth.

L scowled at him. “It was all a lie. I trusted you. I trusted you and you betrayed me.”

“I didn’t betray you, my boy. I couldn’t tell you.”

“No, Watari. You chose not to tell me.” Turning his back to his once trusted guardian, L headed towards the door.

“Where are you going? L, please. I will tell you anything you want to know. Just stop. Please.”

L slowly turned to face him.“So now you decide I deserve the truth? This wasn’t a traditional lie adults tell children to manipulate their actions, Watari. You knew who killed my parents. You knew and didn’t tell me. All this time…I could have found a way…”

“You can find a way to catch them now. I will help you. Every resource I have will be at your disposal.” Watari pleaded.

“My resources are already at my disposal. I’ve already located them and rectified the situation. They will never see the sun rise again.” The shadows under his eyes became a physical manifestation for the darkness that had attached itself to him.

“L, just promise me you will come back once you’ve made peace with this.”

“Heh, You will never see me again, Watari. I’ve already erased myself from the system. Attach yourself to one of my ‘successors’. I can’t trust my identity to you anymore. L is dead, as is Coil and Deneuve.”

“But you are L.”

“No, I am Justice.”

 Near

“Nathan River released from prison on a technicality.”  

Near raises the remote and aims it at the screen. With a simple push of a button, he eliminates the image. He doesn’t need to rewind it. He doesn’t need to ever see it again. Every bit of it was burned into his mind.

The coverage was all over the news, although all he needed was a tip from Gevanni that it had happened.

Near, a living apparition in grey and white tones, was now painted in black.

“Rester?” Near summoned his handler.  “Initiate the procedures I had you put into place in the event this day ever came.” His words, calm and focused as always, were now laden with a cold-bloodedness that neither man had ever witnessed before.

“Near…are you sure?” Gevanni cautiously questioned him.

“Yes.”

Rester left and returned momentarily with a small treasure chest. It looked like nothing more than a child’s toy, a prop used when playing pirate.

But it was much more than that.

Rester hands it to Near.

“The key please.” Without looking up from the locked box, Near holds up a hand and waits expectantly for his request to be fulfilled.

It was Gevanni’s turn to leave and return with the required object, dropping it into the young man’s hand.

Without hesitation, he unlocks the chest and removes a small piece of paper and a pen. It all looked so harmless unless you knew what it was.

“Near, are you absolutely certain? You cannot undo it once you write his name.”

“Yes, I’m certain.” Near scratches his father’s name onto the small and unassuming piece of paper.  “Just like he couldn’t undo killing my mother.”

 Mello

“How did you get in here?” Roger Ruvie demanded into the atmosphere of his office.

Mello turned in Roger’s desk chair to face the old man. In his hand he gripped a file marked “Mihael Keehl”, a name that felt like it belonged to someone else, someone that never existed.

“You bastard!” Mello exploded at him as he slammed the file down on Roger’s desk.

“Mello, the records at Wammy’s House are not for-“

“I don’t give a shit who or what they’re for. Did you do it just to keep me here? For me to be competition for Near?”

“What are you going on about?”

“My parents are alive, you fuck. Alive.” Mello pounded both fists angrily on top of his file. “And it says here that they wanted me back, but you wouldn’t release me to them.”

“Mello, you have to understand, when a child is surrendered to Wammy’s, they are legally our responsibility until they’re 18.”

“Don’t give me this shit. You let me leave at 14! Why? Why didn’t you let me go back home?”

“Because they were unfit. Always in trouble. The entire reason you ended up here was because they were put in jail. You were rebellious enough without their influence. I thought I was protecting you.”

“Were you also protecting me from the money that you were getting from the “pretend” cases you had me and Near working on?”

“That money is used for the orphanage.”He was quick with his explanations and it was push Mello to his limits.

“Well, Roger, while you were busy running an orphanage and concerning yourself with my well-being, I could have been with my family instead of ending up like this.” Mello dragged a leather-gloved hand down his scar. “and now to make up for it, you’re going to tell me where they are.”

“I can’t do that. You willingly left Wammy’s. We are under no obligation to disclose anything to you.”

“Ok, have it your way.”

Mello got up and headed towards the door, but to Roger’s surprise, he shut and locked the them inside the room. Mello slowly stalked towards him.

“What are you doing?” Roger backed away from Mello until he was against the office wall.

Mello reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his 9mm and wrapped a finger around the trigger. “The information.”

“It-it’s over in th-that cabinet,” Roger stammered, suddenly terrified of the young man as he should have been all along.

Mello shot the lock off the cabinet causing Roger to flinch at the clang of metal on metal. Within minutes, he had the file he need.

“Thank you Roger, now let me repay your kindness.”

With an unwavering conviction, Mello aimed at Roger and pulled the trigger.

 Matt

“Stupid fuck.” It was an understatement of gigantic proportions, but Matt had no other words for him. He crushed the cigarette butt into the dashboard as he stared out the window at the rundown apartment building. It looked like where he imagined he would have grown up if he had not ended up at Wammy’s.

He had been staking the place out for hours now, but never getting a glimpse of his target. Matt knew he wasn’t giving him a second thought, just like he didn’t when he was small. After all, he wasn’t Matt’s father. Why would he have ever given a shit about what would have happened to him? He was just an annoyance to be ignored.

Matt understood this. He could even forgive this to some extent. He learned a long time ago nothing was owed to anyone and there was no such thing as a guarantee.

But what he couldn’t forgive is that this bastard watched as his mother overdosed, too concerned with himself to get the help she needed. He wasn’t just high. He supplied her with all the heroine she could ever want as long as she let him hide his product in her crappy little apartment and lie for him if the cops ever came around.

None of it mattered. When they found her, needle still hanging from the flesh just below the bend of her arm, they searched from top to bottom and found everything he was hiding there, the only thing in that apartment he ever cared about. He was charged with possession of a narcotic with intent to distribute and involuntary manslaughter.

He had let her die for nothing. The value the jury put on her life? A mere 14 years without parole.

Now Matt was less than 50 yards from him.

He didn’t care that he served his time. He didn’t care that he had paid for her death. There was no price that was high enough.

Except for one.

Matt reached into the glove box and pulled out the Glock 19 he had hidden there. He checked the clip one last time before stepping into the streets. With a determination never before known to him, he approached the apartment. Wrapping his knuckles hard against the door, he raised the gun to chest level as he heard the doorknob turn…

[newproletarians]

new proletarians

Alright, so I’m feeling a few things. I’m angry and confused at the world and my place in it, and I don’t want to lose sight of my heart. The reason that’s even on the table is that I feel—in a very real, day-to-day sense—the urge to just let it callous over with grey boogers, or whatever callouses over the hearts of Squidwards everywhere. Regular old life can do that to a devastating degree, but so can the usual suspects—things like real trauma and tragedy. I’d like to say I’ve experienced a little of both at this point in my young life, but I’m still fighting the calcification of my heart. Let’s hope that in just throwing my brain at the proverbial wall, some things stick that are worth sticking. Maybe my clarity can also be yours, reader. Maybe we can snuggle up with ourselves tonight, content that we know what the fuck is going on in the world, and smugly abstain from that which our friends could never imagine abstaining from, and which we’ve known we’ve needed to abstain from for decades. Whatever. It’s wordy. It’s a fucking blog, future me. They’re supposed to contain words. Also, maybe, if I’m writing a blog where the over 50% of the audience is myself, writing it is supposed to feel at least a little similar to masturbating.

Where to begin? Well, let’s start with this: I am a college-educated youth who attended what’s commonly referred to as the best public university in the world. I received a rolled up piece of paper symbolizing a degree on a stage with other students and professors a year and a half ago. So it’s recent. And right off the bat, in my young adulthood, I have a chip on my shoulder, having that big qualifier of “public.” I went to the world’s fanciest college... for the proletariat. What does that mean? For me, this brings to mind a lot of issues having to do with the distribution of wealth in the United States, in addition to what the hell is going on economically here and in the world—but that’s something to get into later. The more pressing issue is what the hell the role of a college-educated young person is today. DFW pretty succinctly laid out an idea of what that could be in his famous address. His point was basically that college (specifically, a liberal arts education) gives you the critical thinking skills necessary to be able to get through life under capitalism (or whatever you want to call the current regime) without going crazy. I think we can do better than that. Also, fuck it, I’m giving myself permission to be temporarily pissed off, because fuck that, dude. I know that rage isn’t always an indicator of fruitful conversation, but I gotta let some steam out somewhere. I’m sure that it’ll only lead to me being better down the line. God—I am pissed. About how we’re deciding to go about talking through issues we’re having as a society (on Twitter, but also in comments sections and in NY Times articles). I have so much anger, I’m just now realizing, and I need to process it without stupidly burning myself out on it. It’s a subject for later, and not what we’re talking about right now. Right now, we’re talking about the role of the college-educated youth today. I think we’re getting somewhere, too. I don’t think the role of the college-educated youth in today’s scenario is to correct their friends and families, nor is it to Tweet about how embarrassing, vulgar, or otherwise horrible stupid people are—however embarrassing, vulgar, or otherwise horrible they may be. The role, to me, has to do with learning this stuff. Learning about systems of power, systems of abuse (many of which hum merrily along in universities—looking at you, Searl. [My anger, you guide me, but you also lead me astray]).Staying ON POINT. The way it has to do with these things is that today’s C.E.Y. needs to notice them, understand them, then DO something about them. There are, for instance, things that we learn about privilege and prejudice in university that we may be tempted to hurl at our elders back home as insults. Our jobs, as young students, are to be sexy, fashionable, charismatic stewards of the new age. Instead of yelling at our parents about being racist, we should, say, intervene in a subtle way that guides rather than punishes. That preserves trust and connection in relationships while simultaneously doing our best to right centuries-old wrongs. But this is about so much more than that. Our role is about how we conduct ourselves as the nations intelligentsia. But that’s a question. I’m not answering it here, try as I might. I still don’t know how I feel about it. It stretches into all corners of life, this role. For instance, into several things in my life I’m mad about.

For instance, I kind of hate my closest loved ones. Oops. That’s where I’m at. Am I supposed to ignore these feelings? They’re there, they’ve been there, and if I know anything about our brains, it’s that feelings shouldn’t be ignored. That’s what dumb ass patriarchs think. The funniest/saddest part of that is that they, said dumb asses, tell themselves that suppressing their feelings is the manly thing to do. It’s honestly just the cowardly thing to do. Men are so afraid of confronting their feelings that they would rather go their entire life wearing a life three sizes too small than mention a thing about it. Anyway. They’re conditioned to feel this way by their surroundings. This—this is a great point that I would love to be a major takeaway here. The thing about being educated is that you’re aware of systems, that systems need to be changed. Fault the people who can change the systems, if anyone, but really, even they are just products of the system. The good thing is that, as a powerless mass of atomized society, we have been created by these systems knowing SOME things that are wrong with it. Now we, the crumbs of dust living in and created by the gargantuan grandfather clock of life, have the sentience necessary to band together and make switch out some gears. Picture a big hand of made of dust, fixing the clock. That’s us. That’s what the role of college educated students is today. But that’s not so much the point of this paragraph, so much is the fact that I kind of hate my closest loved ones—which feels so good to say. My best friends, for instance, are really rough individuals. One is an obvious, obnoxiously insecure, compulsive liar. He’s not super tall and weighs almost 300 pounds. It’s not nice to say this stuff, but the purpose of life isn’t to be nice about everybody all the time in your own head, or on your own anonymous blog. He alienates everyone I bring him around with his bizarre persona. His insecurity is so deep that I shit you not, almost a majority of the interactions I’ve had with him would very reasonably get a “come on,” response from anyone. He has to create little talking points to make his life feel acceptable. He’s one of those people who constantly refers conversations back to their insecurities, and how they feel so secure about them, for this reason and that reason. It’s like, Christ, man. Come on. I feel a lot more ways about this, but I’m a little scared he’ll see this some day. I’m worried he’s going to die young, because he is extremely overweight. His doctor said he’s a few months away from a heart attack/stroke unless he takes immediate action, which it seemed like he was taking initially, but it doesn’t really seem like it anymore. I don’t know. The whole situation feels extremely choked by our inability to just communicate with our fucking words. And yes, I am sounding angry, I’m not actually this angry, but consider these the bubbles from a can of soda that’s been shaken. What will be left is the only-slightly-bubbled soda. That’ll come soon. For now, there are bubbles. New paragraph.

The point that I was trying and failing to get to in the previous paragraph is that I don’t like this guy. He has a lot of great qualities, and he’s certainly not a bad person to have in one’s life—as in, he’ll never cheat on his spouse, and he’ll always go the extra mile for his friends in a certain sense. But I don’t. I wish I could just talk to him about this weird, bizarre, fucking deal breaking shit, but I just can’t. Our communication is choked. I don’t think it’s his fault, though. I think it’s to do with overlapping systems of culture that make it difficult. Maybe. Maybe that’s not the point here, and the real point is just that I feel stuck in that situation. Moving on.

(TW: sexual assault)

Another friend is a fucking bona fide sexual assaulter. He practically got #metoo’d, on a personal level. His gf broke up with him because he sexually assaulted the female half of their best-friend-couple. He fingered her while sharing a bed with her and his gf, for some confusing reason. We talked about it and he gave me this wordy, bizarre, incongruent tale of what happened. It involved a LOT of details and qualifiers. When I talked to the dude half of the couple, the guy who was (and still is) with the woman who got assaulted, he said that my friend just straight up did a ton of nonconsensual shit. He also said that when his gf told other people, more people came forward saying this guy had been creepy to other women in their friend circle. This friend absolutely has a history of gaslighting and successfully avoiding trouble by forcing his way. I need to talk to him, but again, fucking choked. I have no ability to have any kind of “real talk” with him. We do not have a venue, and the prospect of confrontation is absolutely debilitating to the average WASP-y dude. Which brings us to our next situation.

I have a great friend I met in undergrad. She is very well-liked, and while I definitely don’t agree with everything she thinks, I really value her friendship. Her boyfriend is a fucking nightmare. Not really, honestly. There are actual nightmare boyfriends. This boyfriend is more of a waking nightmare. The kind of nightmare that becomes worse because it’s so hard to call out. It just keeps going. I’ve kept CLOSE track, and every SINGLE time I’ve hung out with them as a couple, this guy crosses the line. He says condescending, mean, weird, bizarre, shit that... there’s just no better way to say it than he crosses a line that normal people don’t cross. I haven’t counted, but we’ve probably hung out close to 30 times. Every time it happens, every time I give him another chance. I got a little counseling about this situation from a friend’s mom, just in casual conversation, and her advice was to figure out what in me upset me about this guy. At that point, I realized that what Eric Andre said is true: advice is stupid. Also, that I am not going to run my life based on what this person, who I previously looked up to in a god-like way when it came to relationships, says. I am going to figure it out on my own, because it seems like everybody’s solution to relationship issues is to never talk about them, or to have some kind of inner-peace solution that makes getting abused not suck so bad (looking at you, DFW). Ugh. Okay. Moving on, again. Because yep, there’s so, so much more. Again, asking questions here, not answering them.

Also, if you’re reading this and thinking “damn, bro, your life is boring,” that’s my point. This is just normal life. These are just normal people. This is the water we’re swimming in. It’s fucking tense, man. Living in the United States is tense.

I’m running out of steam at this point, but God damn it. My brothers are dick holes. And we’re great friends. They are guys who don’t ever cause a fuss, avoid confrontation at all costs, and are nothing but rewarded for it. Sometimes I think I have something to learn from them in that regard. But is that really the life we want to live? Just don’t communicate your issues? It’s just frustrating. They act superior to others, but are categorically unable to have an honest, undiplomatic conversation. They act superior to others, and are treated as superior. It feels a little like talking to robots, talking to them, decoding what they’re saying to ascertain how they may actually be feeling in a given moment. I have no idea how they feel about me. Or anything. I don’t even think they know or care. I think they just get by, and they’re rewarded for it.

Alright, moving right along. My dad. Damn do I want to not talk to that guy. I can’t talk about anything real with him. It’s like playing ping pong where the other person can only hit the ball if it goes where his paddle already is, and his paddle’s made out of glass. 

This is a sample of some real life issues I am dealing with, spoken as honestly as possible, as is evidenced by the rampant spelling and grammatical errors. College works into this as the thing that has given me recourse for dealing with this stuff. As a college educated youth, I can approach life in an informed, good way. This is life. Etc.

What am I walking away with? Well, I now know for sure that I have a lot of shit to work through. MAYBE more than one Tumblr post. Also, I guess I am proving that people still Tumbl in 2021. I am starting to really understand what the questions I have are. I think part of my issue stems from some feeling of being “out of the loop,” or having some natural, in-set outrage about not understand what’s going on, which was founded by years of being the same height as the people around me’s knees, being the youngest person in my family. Everyone around me were skyscraper people with adult conversations happening way up there. It’s a little imposter syndrome, I think, too. It comes from being the youngest, I think, too. Mixed with a natural sensitivity that I’ve noticed people like me have. 

My goal is to get better at living my life. That involves understanding how I want to live, it involves understanding what my values really are, thinking through them a little, and more. I think it’s really worth it. In the meantime, I am not a work in progress. I am a fucking careful, cool, bright, talented guy who is not perfect, but is working on it. And I am going to postpone making any big decisions about my personal life until I get some clarity.

I thought I’d get more to the subject of the new proletarians, which is something I was thinking about today when listening to Harmontown and asking myself questions about what college is for if it just makes us unemployable, debt-ridden, twitter douchers. Anyway. We’ll get to it again sometime.

This was nice. Let’s do this again sometime.

[going-there-and-back-again]

tagged by @theleavesoflorien

So sorry for the long delay on this, Marianne, and thank you so much for tagging me!! had to do some school stuff and time got away from me :)

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

Black!!

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

ahhh i don’t know! i’ve lived in a city for most of my life but went to university in a much quieter area so it’s really hard to decide! I prefer towns, I think (small city center, old buildings, hanging lights, but also nature and greenery and rivers and hills and trees 😍😍) 

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

Asdfhjkl there are so many things I want to learn !!! I can play the piano but I really wish I was better ✨✨. And languages! LANGUAGES. There are so many languages I want to learn it’s an entirely unfeasible dream but I just want to read everything and translations just aren’t the same as originals, you know? (including Elvish, obviously, because Quenya/Sindarin are just so beautiful and they actually just sound like what they mean, you can hear the feeling and I love that so much). I wish I could bake (I tried making pound cake with dried fruit and let’s just say I was disappointed 😂😂😂). And do origami. And art (I can’t draw to save my life, but I’d love to be able to. I keep seeing scenes from movies or just pretty landscapes or imagining things from books and I want to draw them and I can’t). On the flip side of the spectrum, I like read and learn new things about science, too. Biochemistry and plants and physiology and the like. Haven’t read that stuff in ages, and there is no need for me to read them now, but I enjoy it :)

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

Nope! Tea only, and no milk or sugar 😊🍵 

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

Does 12 years old fall within the boundary of childhood? If it does, then Lord of the Rings 😆😆. Other than that, hmm, it’s hard to choose. Gaiman’s Ocean at the End of the Lane was the last ‘children’s’ book I read (it’s been 7 years; I still love it). In primary I had a huge mystery phase and loved The Boxcar Children and A Series of Unfortunate Events. And Narnia (though I didn’t finish the series) !! Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House series was also one of my favorites 🌲👧🏻

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

I like both :) Baths are a treat though, I usually just shower

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

Not sure...I think I once took a quiz and got ‘faun’? I want to be an Elf in Middle Earth most though! Or a hobbit 🍏🍊

8. Paper or electronic books?

Paper books all the way!! I read with a pencil in hand and if I can’t annotate it just doesn’t feel right 

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

a baby blue cardigan with ‘I need sleep’ written on the back (story of my life??)

10. Do you like your name? Would you like to change it?

Yup, I like it! It means butterfly. My mom picked it because it was invented by Jonathan Swift for his book ‘Cadenus and Vanessa’ (she said ‘it has character’; do i have character??? who knows but it’s easy to come up with nicknames for my name which makes me happy)

11. Who is a mentor to you?

Don’t know if this counts, but I met a few people a couple years older than me through litsoc at uni and they really made me think/unknowingly taught me so much  

12. Would you like to be famous? If so, what for?

No - no fame no cameras just nooo :((( I just want to live my life

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

I’m more of a crash-and-sleep-so-deeply-I-can’t-hear-my-alarm person 

14. Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person?

...I have absolutely no idea

15. Which element best represents you?

Air, I think. Or bodies of water (the sea, lakes, rivers)

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

I don’t know...I hope to stay close to my friends; everyone says people drift after school/uni’s over and I really hope that doesn’t happen 

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

My friends from uni. And just uni in general :((

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

Swingsets!! hahahaha

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

Don’t think I’ve eaten anything *that* strange before...

20. What are you most thankful for?

Family, friends, school, books, home

21. Do you like spicy food?

Can’t eat spicy food at all, oops

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

I’ve met a couple of authors! ohmygod if i was old enough to have talked to tolkien or tennessee williams though i would s-c-r-e-a-m (someone pls invent a time machine)

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

I tried once, I think? I was in primary though

24. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

Pen now, but I annotate in pencil.

25. What is your star sign?

Libra, but I don’t do astrology.

26. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

Crunchy...why would you like soggy cereal??

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

asdfghjkl i don’t know. To have done some good, I suppose. To have been kind, and to have thought deeply and loved well. (ha you really see the lotr coming out here don’t you)

28. Do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

I like reading more than I like breathing I think . Am reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ (so so good)

29. How do you show someone you love them?

The little things, I guess?? Through actions. I rarely ever tell family/friends I love them outright

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

Love iced drinks

31. What are you afraid of?

So many things (heights! bugs! rollercoasters!). and sometimes i just feel afraid, and if you asked i wouldn’t be able to tell you why (it’s just a feeling i cannot quite explain).

32. What is your favourite scent?

That smell in the air when autumn has just started but it’s warm, still, and you can smell the air changing and just the sense of something something coming -

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

Surname!

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

No idea...not in a drastically different way I guess. I would still want to study, and I’d want a job too. It’d just feel safer I guess - like I wouldn’t have to worry about buying a house or anything. And I’d definitely travel more 

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

The pool...the sea’s too salty

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

Take it to the nearest frontdesk type of place if that’s possible?

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

Yes! I was walking back from the library at 11:45pm or so and I was trying to get it on camera so I forgot to make a wish

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

Understanding, I think - to be true to themselves, and accepting of others; to learn and to think, broadly and deeply; to make decisions for good reasons

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

Don’t really want a tattoo tbh

40. What can you hear right now?

Nothing much, it’s quite quiet here at night.

41. Where do you feel the safest?

At home, I think, or at uni.

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

sometimes I feel like I can’t speak, like I’m not going to again for a very long time. it’s just a feeling, but still

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

I want to go to Imladris more than any era of this world 🍃🍃

44. What is your most used emoji?

Laugh-cry 😂😂😂

45. Describe yourself using one word.

Quiet, maybe? idk

46. What do you regret the most?

every embarrassing situation i’ve ever been in i guess? 😆

47. Last movie you saw?

The Tolkien 2019 biopic (the tcbs friendship was great; unfortunately the Tolkien-Edith relationship wasn’t portrayed well at all)

48. Last tv show you watched?

Modern Family haha (it’s my go-to comfort show)

49. Invent a word and its meaning

I think we need more words for smells! the smell of rain, the smell of the grass at night in early summer, the smell of early autumn 🍃

@shiremaiden, @fool--of-a-took if you guys want to do this, but it’s super long so no pressure at all :)