#i finally told her like an hour later because i was done being brave and stuborn about being in pain and not even being able to cry about i

[jackofacetrades]

Why would you expose me like that?

I didn't believed that for very long, but I remember being a bit baffled. I then proceeded to stay in front of the oven to look at it while it was on and concluded there indeed was no mixing process involved. I then thought this was brilliant, because it enabled my brother to have pizza without cheese while we still could enjoy it on our parts of it, while still only making one pizza. Clearly, the people who'd make the oven had made a great decision in making the mixing process optionnal.

It was maybe a few weeks later I realised I had been the one mixing stuff up before putting the cake apparel in the oven, and the oven was absolutely not involved in the mixing part of bakery. I felt both elated to have understood this, and a bit stupid I had thought this in the first place.

At approx the same time, I was also deeply invested for maybe a week to understand how a toaster was working, before taking things in my own hands and getting up on the stool next to the toaster to look inside it to understand its inner workings. I experimented on pushing buttons and observing what they'd do. In just a few minutes, I had understood everything about how a toaster worked and felt super proud of myself. No one ever knew I did that.

I already was deeply invested in experimenting and understanding by myself as a kid ^^

when I was a kid I thought the weather guy on TV controlled the weather and he was just telling us what he was gonna do for the next few days. when he said "30% chance of rain Thursday" I thought he was just guessing how likely it was he'd wake up in a rain mood that morning

[redvelvettel]

DRENCHED IN GLORY ☆ CL16

Charles leclerc x f!reader

Warnings: it might be a bit obvious how much I need want Charles to win the wdc, but should be fine other than that.

masterlist

He had done it. He had finally done it.

Years and years of dreaming. Staying up at night wondering where he was going wrong. Spending hours on end in the simulator perfecting every turn and curve until it was etched in his memory. Crying on the phone because he couldn't be with the love of his life when he was most vulnerable and needed her the most.

Midnights where she held him to her chest and let him cry his heart out because he was frustrated with the car. She had been through it all with him. Cried with him when they lost people who were supposed to be there forever. They've never left each other's sides ever since that fateful day his mother came over to the new neighbor's house to give them a housewarming present.

6 year old Charles felt like he was going to throw up. The girl hiding behind her mother's gown in front of him peeked at him with her doe eyes. Yep. There was something definitely wrong with the poor lad. Because honestly, that's what he felt like. He followed her around like a lost puppy, never leaving her side until she reluctantly agreed to play with his toy cars. And they've been trapped in their own little bubble ever since.

His brother, Arthur had tried to steal her countless times but to no avail. It was like there was some invisible string holding them together. And neither of them ever dared to complain.

Charles won his first ever race mere weeks after meeting her. Ever since she learned that her new friend was racing in fast cars, she had been nagging her parents to let her go to a race with him. After some persuasion from the two children, they had finally let her attend a Karting race after being promised by Lorenzo that he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

She was fascinated with everything. She didn't care that it was just a Karting race, she was so happy and amazed that her friend could drive a fast car so bravely.

So she stood with his brothers and his father proudly cheering his name with her whole heart until her lungs burned, and she didn't stop until he started getting out of the little kart after crossing the finish line first. She ran up and crashed into him with the biggest smile and Charles couldn't help but feel like he was on top of the world.

Neither of the kids cared that it was a Karting race, to her he was the best to ever do it and he would always be on top of the world if she was by his side. Charles knew he wanted her in his life forever, then. As much as a six year old could want anything. That still hasn't changed, and he was positive it never will.

Somehow, Charles had convinced himself that she was his lucky charm, and begged both of their parents to let her attend as many races as she could. She was there with him for every single step as he climbed up the ranks and made it to the big leagues. She held his hand in hers as they walked into the paddock on his first ever official day as a formula one driver, with his name and number on the back of her shirt standing proudly.

It was many years later, and the thirst for glory had only deepened in Charles. When Charles told her when they were little that his dream was to be a world champion, she promised him that she would be right there cheering him on like always, waiting for him when he gets out of the car. He had been dreaming of the moment ever since, and it was about to come true.

She stood in the Ferrari motorhome, arms locked with Arthur, and all the mechanics surrounding them. Her and Pascale, who stood on her right, wore bright red headphones and were leaning onto each other, silent prayers escaping their mouths as they nervously glanced at the screens.

There were 4 laps left and Charles Leclerc could be a world champion at the end of the race, and the team was positive that he would be.

She reached out for Pascale's hand as they all started moving out of the motorhome with the rest of the team, excitement and hopefulness filling her. She knew he was going to win. He had to. This was his dream, and everything he has ever worked for was going to come true. She held on to Arthur and Pascale like her life depended on it, praying to all the gods she could think of. Tears started to fall onto her cheeks, out of happiness for how proud she was of the man she loved. She turned to look beside her and saw that Pascale has also started crying, hugging her tightly as they waited for what felt like eternity.

When he was finally a world champion after he crossed the line, she screamed his name at the top of her lungs, exactly like she did the first time he had won a race.

She felt everyone around her hugging eachother and people on the stands roaring out of happiness, and she couldn't see anything from the tears blurring her eyes.

He was a world champion. The champion of the world. He had finally brought back glory to the most historic team the sport has ever witnessed, and he was the love of her life. She sobbed looking at him as he got out of his seat and stood on the halo of his car, arms wide open as he was drenched in glory. His name was going to be written in the books, immortalising him. His name was going to be noted down in the history of the sport. He was finally a world champion.

His feet finally touched the ground, body shaking with sobs and he look around for his family, frantically taking his helmet off.

He ran into his mother's arms, letting her hold her not so little boy. He called out for her, looking around until he finally spotted her. Everyone with eyes could see how his whole face brightened when he saw her, the whole world other than the both of them disappearing.

He crashed into her, just like she did all those years ago. They held each other so tight it made people wonder if they could breathe, and they didn't seem to care. Everything he has ever wanted in his life had come true and he wanted nothing but to hold her in his arms and not let go.

She could feel his tears drenching her shirt, both of them shaking from the sobs they let out. "You're a world champion Charles, you've done it". He let out a snort of laughter, pulling her closer if that was even possible.

"I love you, I love you." He felt so much love for her at that moment that it felt like his heart was gonna burst if he wasn't careful.

As he slightly moved away so he could look at her, he knew he wanted her forever. He wanted her to be there when he wins championships, when he dnf's, he wanted her by his side during all the happy moments, and all the ugly ones too. His lips were on hers in an instant, with no care of all the people and cameras around him. All they'd ever need was eachother, and he would tear hell apart to keep her by his side forever.

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Keeping up with the Camerons

TumblrTV

Keeping up with the Camerons

Episode 3 - Life Inside The Bubble Wrap - Part 3

Episode transcript (/ means cut scene, bold italics means narrator, bold means host)

Word Count: 4K

Part 2 Here

The brunette sighs, pushing open the front door to her home as her shoulders fall. Taking a deep breath, she shuts the door quietly, walking through the dark room; trying her hardest to avoid her brother’s sight that was focused on the loud tv which played the movie ‘Baywatch’. Him and his friends drooling over the poor girls’ bodies.

She reaches for her bedroom door, “Where did you go?” Her brother’s voice cuts the tension condescendingly his eyes not leaving the screen.

Bella bites her lip, stepping backwards as she turns slowly, gripping her keys to her palm tightly. “Out.”

“You weren’t at work today.”

“Uhm.. mhm.” She nods fearfully, not knowing how he got that information and not being brave enough to ask and find out.

“Why? What was more important?” He spreads his legs, resting his arms on the back of the couch as he finishes off his can of beer before chucking it to the floor for Bella to clean up later.

The boys all kept their eyes on the tv because any movement from them would make the situation worse. Except for Topper who took a glance at Bella. His brow dipping when he notices her lip wobbling; her knowing that even if she told the truth, Callum wouldn’t believe her. “Um.. I-”

“She was with me and Sarah!” Topper spills quickly, snatching everyone’s attention instantly. Bella shakes her head at him but it was too late.

“Is that right?” Callum’s attention finally shifts, turning back to face Bella as he raises his brows.

“Yeah she-“

“I didn’t ask you.” He spits at Topper, eyes not taking away from Bella.

“Bella tell me the truth. Im just making sure you weren’t putting yourself in danger or anything.” She smiles, relaxing slowly at his words. Feeling more comfortable now he’s being caring again. “Wanna make sure no Pogues were talking to you today.” He reassures, but little did he know it did the exact opposite.

Her heart rate picks up as her breathing deepens, her inhales becoming longer and harder to do. She takes the biggest breath she could, nodding to herself as a form of comfort. “I.. I was taking a walk around the island. Just wanted to clear my head. I’m sorry I didn’t go into work today I just felt that if I did I wouldn’t have gotten anything done.” It wasn’t a complete lie, she did go round the island for a few hours.

“Your anxiety playing up again?” The concern in his voice warming her slightly, making her feel less stressed in the current situation.

“Yeah..” She agrees embarrassedly, keeping her eyes anywhere but on the others as it’s not something she brings up to people.

He nods, his thumb running along his nose, “So how was your chat with John B?”

The boys look up at her, her eyes widen as her fists clasp together tightly, “W- what?” She laughs nervously, trying to push it off.

He scoffs standing up which earns him Rafes attention. His eyes shooting up to him as he grips tightly to the back of the couch, ready to jump in if necessary. “You think I wouldn’t find out?” Callum tilts his head, his eyes dark as he steps closer to Bella, sucking in a breath as she struggles to find her tongue.

“I.. I-“

“Cmon Bells, you can’t keep nothing from me princess.” He grazes her cheek, a sweet but venomous smile stuck on his face like a mask, “He causing trouble?” He frowns, his voice that sarcastic caring tone that she despises.

“No..” She grumbles, frowning as if his question was obvious.

“What you talk about?” Callum watches her eyes that were glued to his, her fear pulling a smile onto his disgusting angelic face.

“Nothing..” Her eyes glistened, lashes batting to push away the evident tears. Not realising her holding her own breath, she releases.

His brows raise, eyes lightening as he chuckles deeply, “So you sat together in silence? Sounds fun.” He gives her a smile, a smile she would never believe but anyone else would.

She ignores his snarky remarks, her eyes shutting as she fakes a yawn, “Can I go to bed?”

His hands find her shoulders, gripping her skin so hard his nails were leaving indents, “Why’d you not stay?”

She frowns, shrugging the best she could under his grip, “Because why would I?”

He lets go, shrugging, realising she meant the words she said, “Just wondering.” He smiles genuinely, “Glad you’re here.” He taps her hand, forgetting everything that just happened.

She rolls her eyes, pulling away as she turns back around to head off to her room. Callum sits himself back on the couch, helping himself to another can as the little release of air fills the silence.

“Bella?” Her name cuts through the room, the blonde boy innocently calling for her knowing he shouldn’t but couldn’t help himself.

“Mhm..” She sucks in a breath, her head facing the boy again as she rubs her eyes, not to push away her tiredness but to hide the tear that had formed in the corner.

He smiled guiltily, “Sarah find you?” Keeping his sentences short to push the conversation on quickly.

It took a minute for Bella to comprehend, not knowing exactly how much her brother and the others knew about her day, “Huh?”

He frowns, “Sarah! She said she was gonna call you or something.”

She bites her cheek, quickly nodding, “Oh! Um yeah. She uh.. she..” Bella struggled to find a way to word their conversation, taking far too long.

Toppers brows furrow, his worry for her only growing as she stopped mid-sentence. “You okay?”

Her eye’s quickly refocus, darting to his, “Mhm yeah sorry. She just spoke to me actually.”

Rafe’s eyebrows raise, a smirk tugging at his lip, “Did you not just come from John B’s?”

“Yeah so?” Bella spits, eyes glassing over again at her best friend’s need to bring her down all of a sudden as if she was the problem.

Toppers eyes widen at the realisation of Rafe’s words, standing up suddenly as he shoots Bella a glare, “Is Sarah with that freak again??”

She panics, “What?? No! I-” She cant lie to save her life meaning the boys all saw right through, realising exactly what’s going on. They all remove themselves from the couch.

“Oh that shitty little fucker!” Callum snapped, reaching for the door and leaving, letting it slam loudly behind him with a bang which caused Bella to shriek.

“Callum don’t!!” She cries, tears streaming down her face as she runs to the door, pulling it open and watching her brother pull on his helmet.

Topper shoves past her, followed by Kelce. Her cheeks soggy and eyes puffy; the realisation finally sinking in of what she’s just done to all her friendships in this one moment.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers coming up to her mouth as she started nibbling at her finger nails.

Rafe came up behind her, placing his hand against her shoulder, causing her to again, flinch before calming as she sees it was only him. “Please get off me..” she pushes his hand off herself, walking past him back to her room.

“Can we please just talk?” Rafe pleads, eyes welling as he reaches for her again.

She stops, looking back at him with a dip in her brow, “No, I don’t want to talk to you!” She forces, her tone matter-of-factly. Her words cause Rafe to choke, “Rafe you just sat there and watched him speak to me like that. You always do! It’s like you don’t care anymore Rafe. Like being friends with me is a chore that you’d rather never do!” She explains, brows furrowed as another tear falls from her hazel eyes, meeting his with no emotion but pure distrust as she inhales sharply, “I’m giving you space.. can you not just appreciate that?” She asks softer now, knowing shouting at Rafe is going to get her nowhere, and she’d never want to purposefully raise her voice at him anyways.

“Rafe!!! We’re going come on man!!!” One of the boys shouts through the door, the two of them both glancing back.

He doesn’t budge, looking down at Bella with his watery blues, waiting for maybe something more from her. Hoping she’d finally crack and come back to him. She sighs, stepping closer before running outside and joining Topper beside his bike.

“I’m so sorry..” She mutters, gripping onto his shirt, breathing deeply again to stop herself from falling apart.

“Hey don’t be okay..? Just glad you’re okay..” He smiles, reassuring her as he pats her hand that rest against his chest.

She stares at him a little longer, mouth agape as if she were going to speak, “You okay?”

She nods, closing her mouth before opening it again, patting down his shirt that she only just scrunched up, “Just.. please don’t mention me! I mean I can’t- I-“

“Hey sh shh..” He takes ahold of her hands, pulling them up to his chest to hold them tighter, “It’s fine alright. I’m just gonna speak to Sarah. I don’t need to bring you into it all yeah? But then you’re gonna tell me what’s going on with you okay..?” He whispers, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, placing a gentle kiss to her fists.

She smiles at his soft touch, her cheeks blushing without noticing, as she nods, “Okay..” He pulls her head into him to place another kiss to her skin before pulling on his helmet.

She goes back inside before pausing at the entrance. Looking right into the camera she snarls, “You’ve put cameras here too??” She looks around, eyes meeting every lens in the room, “When..??” She scowls, her brows knitting together through frustration before turning back around on her heel and heading for the door.

She jogs down to Topper and quickly hooks her leg over his bike, hands sat ontop his shoulders.

“Bells you sure?” He shouts through his helmet and she signals a thumbs up as she wraps her arms under his shoulders tightly.

Rafe watched a moment, frowning and shoving his tongue to his cheek. She always rides on my bike.. refuses to ride on anyone else’s, I’m the only one she trusts to ride with. So this was a stab right in his heart. He shoves his helmet on, waiting for Callum’s signal before they all road off down to the Cut. It wasn’t the longest ride as Bella and Callum already live on the edge of Figure Eight.

//

“Wheres your boyfriend?” John B grumbles, crossing his arms as he watches her eyes dip.

“I don’t know.” She frowns, “Does it matter? I’m thinking of breaking up with him!”

John B smirks, forgetting to respond as his eyes widen, just focusing on her features with a slight a blush to his skin.

She giggles, “Is that.. is that okay?” She smiles, running her hands over her thighs nervously.

“Uh yeah yeah of course! I mean.. if you did, you know, break up. What would that.. what would that-“

“Mean for us?” She interrupts softly, her cheeks reddening.

“Yeah..” He nods slowly, watching her lips curl into a smile.

“Well-“ “Sarah!!!!” A deep gravelly voice pierces through the air, singing almost, her eyes widening immediately.

“My brother..” She jumps off the hammock whilst John B tries to ‘act cool’, resting his head against his hands and whistling softly.

Rafe, Callum, Kelce and Topper all rode in to the yard. Sarah’s eyes not shifting from her brother as he climbs off his bike. John B turns to watch before his eyes catch onto something. “Bella??” His brows furrow as he pulls himself off the hammock, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I..”

“This isn’t about her, asshole. This is about you and your little friend!” Callum spits, pointing at the two of them.

Topper steps forward, pushing Callum back gently, “Sarah you said-“

“I know what I said Topper! And I’m sorry but.. we’re over.” She states softly, going to reach for his hand but he pulls away.

“That Pogue’s corrupting your mind Sar! He ain’t good for you. Just come home and we can sleep it off yeah?”

“No Topper! I mean it-“

“Sarah this is not happening!” Rafe walks over his eyes shooting to the younger boy, “What the fuck did I say about her and Bella huh? You don’t get it do you?? You need to be shown I’m serious huh?? You need me to teach you a lesson yeah?”

“Rafe don’t..” Sarah spits.

He ignores her, stepping closer and John B chuckles, preparing his fists.

“Rafe!!”

The small voice froze him, hitting himself in the head as he turns around to be met with the shorter girl. “Don’t do it.. please.”

“Yeah well I told you not to leave me and, Oh! People don’t listen do they sweetheart.” He laughs, stroking her chin.

“Bella I trusted you.” John B whines, the words alone causing Bella to wince. Her eyes immediately begin to pool as she looks up at him. “John B I-“

“Wait this was you?” Sarah comes over, her eyes darkened at the girl, her voice full of frustration.

“No I- well-“

“I thought you knew not to speak about this. You promised!”

“I know!!!” She cries, struggling for air as her eyes dart between the two, “Look I’m sorry!! I.. I don’t understand what you want me to do!”

“How about don’t get involved?” John B suggests hatefully, his eyes looking down on her with pure betrayal causing her heart to ache.

“I didn’t! I’m the one who told you not to do it!”

“But didn’t you get all smitten like a minute later and tell me to go for it if I could?”

She moans, biting her lip as she struggles to find her breath, tears streaming down her cheeks yet again.

“What??” Topper grabs ahold of her arm, pulling her attention to him as his brows furrow.

She holds her chest, “No!! I.. I never said that! I- I was trying to do the right thing okay??” She pulls away from Toppers grip, stepping back slightly as her being surrounded by bodies was making this feeling worse.

“Yeah well you failed didn’t you!”

Sarah frowns, grabbing John B’s hand, “John B stop..??” She tries to calm the situation, somehow being the only one to notice Bella’s struggle. Or being the only one to care for that matter.

Everyone’s eyes lock onto Bella, all shouting and screaming at her as her mind becomes a fog. She raises her hands to her ears to block out the overwhelming noise as her eyes squeeze shut in pain. All the voices mixed into one pool of words in her head, unable to make out who was who in her current state.

“We can’t trust you!!”

“You promised!!!”

“Bella who even are you?”

“I thought we were friends??”

It only gets louder, her hands now useless to blocking the noise; she rips her hands from her ears, throwing a look to everyone around her, their eyes all watching her which causes a lump to form at the back of her throat. “Okay!!! Okay, I get it okay?? I fucked up!!!” She whines through a croaky wobbly mess of a voice, “But I don’t- I.. what am I supposed to do?? Your all my-“

“Pick a side.” Her brother interjects plainly, his brows raising at his suggestion.

Bella frowns, scoffing at his words as she clears her throat, “What??”

Rafe watches her a moment, watching the way her eyes sparkled in the moonlight as a tear let its way down to her chin. He huffed, going over to Callum and grabbing ahold of his shirt, trying his damn hardest to reason with him, knowing his best friend would never pick in a million years.

Callum shoves Rafe off him, stepping closer to his sister as he plasters on a smile, the same smile from earlier, “I said. Pick. A. Side. It’s either us.” He points at himself, in a condescending manner. “Or them!” His fingers follows to the couple beside the trees, his eyes not shifting from his sister’s puffy ones. “It’s one or the other I’m afraid, you’re not a little princess who gets to have everything she wants.” He spits, standing over her with his hands shoved into his pockets. A grin forming along his face, enjoying every moment of this situation he’s created.

“Wait Callum??” John B finally realised the severity of the situation, feeling his heart hurt for her now he knows what’s really happening. To Callum it was never about him and Sarah. It was about Bella. It’s always about Bella. At this point John B didn’t care for the argument, all he wanted was Sarah.

Bella’s eyes search the area for comfort, or someone to reason with him or anything. Everyone staring at her blankly gave her the answer she needed as she bats her lashes and sucks in a deep breath. “I don’t care..” She starts, her voice deep and stern, eyes piercing through Callum’s, actually causing a slight sweat on his forehead, “..what side I’m on, as long as. You’re not on it!!” She spits in his face, shoving past him and going down the path to go home. Her facade quickly slipping away as her lips tremble, eyes squinting through tears.

Callum’s face tenses, fists scrunching as he chuckles, “Oh you fucking-“ Rafe steps in the way quickly, shoving him back slightly with a push on his chest. Kelce grabs ahold of his waist, holding him back from being able to move. All the boys knowing exactly what could happen if they let go. “YOU BITCH!!!” He screams, “I’m trying to protect you why don’t you fucking understand!!!!” He screeches through the dark yard, trying his best to wriggle free from the boys’ grips. Rafe turns his head to see Bella, heart physically hurting for her as he watches her struggle to find her breath, wiping her tears and walking away without anyone to help. He shoves his fingers into his eyes to hold back the tears.

Topper doesn’t even hesitate to run after her, pulling her in to his chest even despite her fight to push him away. He holds her tightly, stroking her head as he places multiple kisses to her temple, hushing her as she let go against his chest.

Everyone stood back and watched the situation die down as Topper slides his hand into Bella’s, taking her home and leaving his bike unattended.

/

“Why don’t you go talk to her? You just stood there and watched her cry! You never do that!!” Kelce states, all the boys sat around the living room, drinking in the dark whilst they review what just happened.

Kelce sat on the couch beside Rafe who had his legs splayed out and head against the arm rest, beer in his hand that hung off the edge of the seat. “Shut up..” He mumbles, shutting his eyes as his free hand squeezes the bridge of his nose.

Topper frowns, sitting up as he crosses his legs on the cushion under him, “No Rafe he’s right! We left her be because we thought you’d go and comfort her. Has she done something to you?”

His words cause Rafe to curse under his breath, sighing as he leans his head further back, dropping his hand to his lap, “No course not, she’s an angel..”

Kelce and Topper exchange a look, “Then what’s the problem??” Kelce argues, neither of the boys understanding why he’s being like this when his best friend needs him most.

He contradicts their thought, “She don’t need me anymore..” He gravels, swallowing down his beer in one to cover the obvious thoughts that he’s lying; not wanting to own up to the multiple mistakes he’s piling up.

“The biggest pile of bullshit Rafe!!!” Topper exclaims, reading straight through his lies (as would anyone if they knew Bella and Rafe) “She needs you more than you’ll ever know!! You’re just being a dick to her right now..” He sighs, running a finger along the rim of his bottle.

Kelce nods along, his eyes on Rafe as he raises a brow, “For no reason, may we say.” Him and Topper laugh at Rafe’s groan of a response.

He winces at their reaction, lifting his head as he furrows his brows, “For fucks sakes look I know her better than either of you ever will okay?-”

“Bullshit but okay..” Kelce laughs to Topper, rolling his eyes as he finishes off his beer.

He looks back at Rafe to see his eyes glued on him, “What was that?” He squints through the darkness, biting his cheek.

“N- nothing!” He chokes, burying his face in a slice of pizza.

Rafe sighs, resting back on the arm of the couch, his hand finding the back of his head as he fiddles with a strand of his hair, “I know when she’s done with me..” He sulks, earning him a groan and an eye roll from both his friends.

“Jesus stop projecting!!!” Sarah steps into the room, swinging her arms about at his stupid words. “You fucked up Rafe! And you hate yourself for it!! It’s so obvious, it hurts!!” She whines, causing Rafe to grunt in response to her ‘accusations’. “Go talk to her!” She rests her hands on the back of the couch beside his body, walking into the shot of the camera.

His brows dip into his eyes, throwing an arm over them, “Fuck off Sarah.. you literally cheated on my best friend. Why should I-“

“He did it first??” She utters, offence gleaming off her face as she frowns.

Rafe’s eyes shoot from her to his friend, sitting up quickly and furrowing his eyebrows, “What??” He watches Topper, his eyes widening as he avoids eye contact with the both of them.

“Mhm..” Sarah crosses her arms, a proud smile coating her face, “My friend Layla told me yesterday they hooked up- well my ex-friend. She said it’s because I was ‘taking too long’. So..” She shrugs, “I thought we were done!” She didn’t seem too bothered for someone who just found out their partner cheated on them.

Rafe’s expression contorts, “What the fuck bro??” He expresses, “You cheating on my sister for??”

Sarah watches in shock, a small smile tugging at her lip. “Bro I’ve never spoken to Layla before?? She’s lying Sar!!”

She crosses her arms over her chest, brows raising as she tilts her head slightly, “Prove it.”

“I-“

“I wanna go back to this Bella thing! You two clearly don’t care enough about this, just break up and move on!” Kelce sighs, slumping into the couch cushions as he drinks his beer.

Rafe grumbles, lifting himself from the couch as he runs his fingers through his bangs, “Nah I’m going to bed!”

The remaining three giggle to one another; Sarah joining Topper on the one seater despite the previous tensions.

Kelce groans as he watches them snuggle into one another as if nothing ever happened, shaking his head before grabbing another bottle and a slice of pizza.

//

“Life doesn’t stop when the cameras are on. And I’m sorry for any inconvenience I’ve made but I’m not putting my problems on hold just because you’re filming. If anything you should be putting on hold for me. But it’s reality tv. So neither of that happens and you unfortunately get to see it all.” Bella shrugs, forcing a smile through her glassy eyes.

/

Thank you Bella for that little nugget to end the episode with. Sorry we didn’t get much of a chance to pull anyone aside this episode, it was a drama-packed day. But maybe on the next one!

Thank you for watching and we’ll see you again soon to join Rafe and the others, let’s see if he can resolve this before the end of the episode shall we.

Next Episode Here

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[darkwaveho]

What do you think would happen if Anastasia got hurt of kidnapped by one of Natasha’s enemies?

-Sorry, this is hella late I also kinda went off tangent a bit and I haven't written anything in a while so hopefully this is okay.💜

Damage control/Mini burden masterlist

Oh man... First off whoever kidnaps those two crazy lesbians' daughter has a death wish. Obviously, Natasha wouldn’t be the only one furious about it, but I think it would also cause R to revert back to her violent tendencies and after she’s controlled more of her saddened emotions, she shifts gears and basically takes lead in finding their daughter.

When they do find Anastasia her face is stained with dry tears and her school uniform is dirty. What sets R off is the scrape on Anastasia’s knee and the dirt one grime on her uniform, clearly signs of struggle and that her daughter was fighting. When Natasha sees the state of her daughter’s appearance it burns a different kind of fire within her. Sure, she’s been mad, unhinged and manic plenty of times, but this motherly rage was on another level. When you both seem to calm Anastasia down you lead her out of the unfamiliar basement and guiding her into the arms of her aunt. “Take her home and do not leave her out of your sight! We’ll be back late.” Is all you say as you kiss Anastasia’s cheek once more before turning around and going back into the soon to be dead man’s house. Natasha only gives her sister a look that doesn’t need words, they do that often, having conversations without even uttering a word. Natasha knows Yelena wants to stay and have a turn with this incredibly stupid man who thought he was brave enough to kidnap her niece. With a subtle shake of her head Natasha prompts Yelena to finally get into the car and take Anastasia home, where it’s safe. You and Natasha both know that there will be a serious conversation later on about the school’s safety and whether or not Anastasia should be homeschooled.

It’s not enough that you tortured the man here in what you assume to be his home, no you tell Natasha’s men to put him in the trunk of the car and bring him to Natasha’s warehouse. It's no secret that you liked to drag things out and Natasha was more of a get in, get out, and get it done type but in this instance, she doesn’t dare protest against you. Also, the fact that she likes seeing you take lead whenever mob activities present themselves. the torture seems to go on for hours.

Like one of the main torture methods Natasha and R use is making things into a game/ competition...most of the time. since this one is drawled out, I think Natasha and R would say something like. "Let's see who can pull his teeth out the fastest."

or the play tic tac toe on his skin and argue about who gets to be X's and who gets to be O's. "That's not fair, Tash you know I like being O's." you show your displeased emotion clear as day, but it does nothing for Natasha to relent and giving you what you want. Natasha was set on being O's Because everyone knows that it gives you more access to go deeper into flesh.

After hours of torture, you and Natasha gave the man a slight break not for his benefit but simply because Natasha realized you haven't eaten anything since this morning, so she had to practically drag you away from the man and demand that you eat something. Now feeling refreshed you and Natasha wait patiently as the man regains consciousness. After his eyesight is more focused and he's aware of his unfamiliar surroundings he panics internally but the tingling sensation he feels in his face made his heart drop. “What did you do to my face?!” he tries to touch his cheek as the restraint fight against that action. “Why can’t I feel my face?? What the fuck did you do to me.”

“See, and here I thought you would be grateful for numbing your face...You'll wished you thanked me for numbing it in a few minutes though.” You give the man an exhausted sigh as you move around the cold and empty concrete room.

“Tash told me not to, but I told her it takes the fun out of things.” You look over your shoulder towards Natasha flashing an "I told you so." look before turn back to the beaten and battered man with a small mirror that you place in front of his face. the soft gasp of air as a result of seeing his unrecognizable face made you gloat. Natasha takes calculated steps toward the seated man and in swift movements her pocketknife was out and if you blinked you missed her fast and precise movements with the edge of the knife. she starts off with basic attacks she wants to build up the man's fear. it's not until she's aware anastatic wearing off that she finally let's go. Natasha doesn't hold back her anger and frustration. she blocks out the loud screams and pleas for forgiveness. Each time a splatter of blood leaks from his body it rewards her. At the end Natasha contemplated letting him go so he could return to whoever told him to stupidly kidnap her child and hurt her in the process, but she thought if someone else was stupid enough to kidnap her child and live to talk about it then she wasn't doing her job. When you both got through with him it'll be like he never existed, no one would remember and if someone did ask around about him then that was for sure going to be the next target of interest. Everyone will know not to fuck with the Romanoffs.

[dododan]

Forgotten Perseverance - Chapter 7

Masterpost

Prologue Previous

Katharina has finally come to her senses! And that means one thing! The long awaited-mostly through Papyrus-tour of Snowdin. In theory, Katharina is protected by the King's promise and Dr. Gaster's protectorate, only will this be enough to ensure that no monster touches the girl? What can go wrong when Katharina, Sans and Papyrus take a trip to the nearby ice rink?

The rest of the week passed normally. If you can call living with a human being that. Katharina quickly adapted to our rhythm, and we also got used to it. Too much did not change. The girl made us not feel her presence too much. She didn't bother us or anything. Sometimes she helped us with school preparations. She proved to be extremely talented when it came to awakening Papyrus. The two of them became very close over those few days. I don't know how Katharina was able to find her way to Paps, but he had started referring to himself as 'The Great Papyrus' for some time. I suspected it had something to do with Kath. I just didn't much feel brave enough to ask her about it. While I appreciated her help, I preferred to be on my guard. Nevertheless, Katharina behaved very normally. She didn't do anything strange or suspicious. 

She spent her days in the living room or kitchen. She was usually accompanied in our absence by Saera, who also didn't notice anything strange. Apparently, she often played cards or our other board games with her. Well, she didn't tell me this directly. It was more that I overheard Saera talking to my father. Apparently, the monster woman was also to keep an eye on our guest. Father was more forewarned than I thought. He also asked us - me and Paps - not to tell Katharina too much about the people before her, although I had the impression that she knew more than she was telling us. 

Only later did she admit that Saera had chatted about what the people had done to the monsters. This explained her lack of questions on the matter, as she usually showered us with them. As well as explaining why she was so persistent in trying to improve her relationship with me. 

She noticed that I liked to read books, especially science fiction. She tried to talk to me about it, but I didn't know her authors and she didn't read - as it turned out - old editions. I didn't orient myself with newly published books, because such books simply didn't fall into the Underground. More often than not, we received slightly used books that were a few years old. Nevertheless, we were able to boast of excellent writers whom she had not had the opportunity to meet at all. 

She didn't have a point in literature, so she tried something else. It was probably Paps who told her. It's all about my love of the stars. One day by 'accident' she found a book on celestial entities at my place, or rather she asked my brother to bring just this one. I saw her reading it in the evening on the sofa while my father was reading a bedtime story to Papyrus. 

I was surprised to see that she had taken up science reading. I must admit that at first, I had her as a person.... How to say this without sounding bad.... I thought of Kath as a not very bright person over whom I have an intellectual advantage.... 

Never judge a book by its cover. I got quite a kick out of how Katharina helped me with my homework. Arithmetic and geometric sequences.... They were really magic to me then. OK, I'll stop with the jokes now. Apparently, they don't lighten the situation as much as I thought they would. 

It took me about an hour to get to grips with the task. I had to calculate the sum of the elements in a geometric sequence on the basis of an arithmetic sequence if they have the same number of elements. No matter what I did, I couldn't do it. Everyone has a limit to their patience and mine had just run out. 

“I've had enough,” I shouted to myself. 

Katharina looked at me puzzled, pulling away from her reading. 

“What are you doing?”, She asked, putting the book back on the table. 

“Something to beat you up”, I replied. Maybe a little too harshly, but I hated it when things didn't work out for me. 

“The same as you?”, She asked with a mean smile. However, after a moment she picked up the cane her father had arranged. He, too, found the chair-mobile to be quite a risky means of transport, especially if you were dealing with a high threshold. 

Katharina sighed heavily, walking over to the table. She sat down next to me. 

“Show this task,” she said, extending her hand towards me. I surrendered. With superiority, I gave her my notebook. I was one hundred percent sure that she would not solve it. Katharina took one of the sheets of paper lying on the table and a pencil. She began to analyse my calculations. I did not look at her. 

“I have solved it," she said. 

“And what is the...” I stammered in mid-sentence, turning towards her. Puzzled, I continued to look at her. 

“You used the wrong formula.” she said calmly. She put our pieces of paper next to each other, marking the mistake with me. "You used the formula for the sum of a geometric series, not for a geometric sequence. That was your mistake," she said, showing me the correct formula. "If you have a problem with it, I can explain it to you,” she said. 

I was genuinely chagrined. I was being mean to her and yet she helped me. She even offered further help. 

“Yeah... Thanks.” I said, rewriting the correct formula. “I can handle the rest.” 

“You're welcome”, she smiled, but continued to sit next to me. 

I felt a bit uncomfortable. Maybe it was because of the earlier accident.... I did the rest of the homework with a little help from Kath. As soon as she noticed that I was fussing over something for a long time, she looked over my shoulder and then waited. She didn't exert herself. She didn't rush things. She just waited for me to be the one to say I needed help. I finally broke through and asked her to explain the rest of the assignments. 

She would not be a good teacher. She had a peculiar way of explaining assignments. She mostly assumed I knew what she was talking about. She claimed to use the simplest of topics and I could only understand half of what she was saying. She would quickly lose patience with me if I made a mistake on the same task for the second time in a row. Then we would start shouting at each other a bit. Me that she shouldn't raise her voice at me, and her that I should think about what I was writing. Then we would calm down and she would explain the issue again and I would do the task calmly "with my head" as Kath put it. 

Over the next hour we did all the assignments. I was surprised that it took us so little time. I was betting that I wouldn't even do half of it and would write the rest of at school. Then Katharina sat down on the sofa. She went back to her reading, and I packed my things in my backpack. I was already going to go to my room, but somehow, I felt that the girl could use some company. She had helped me, and I felt somewhat obliged to repay her somehow. I put my backpack down next to the stairs and then sat down with Kath. 

This time it was she who was surprised. However, she quickly hid it under a smile. She had a really nice and, above all, sincere smile. 

"And how was the reading?" I asked, pointing at the book. 

 “Interesting. When I was on the Surface I looked everywhere for this book, but I couldn't get it. There are a lot of theories about black holes", she announced with a gleam in her eye. “I have to thank your father for recommending it to me.” 

I was stunned at these words. Why did her father recommend this book to her? Why did he do this? I didn't understand his actions, but I quickly forgot this small fact. We started talking about celestial entities. 

I told her about my favorite constellations. About the autumn wolf constellation, which is next to the centaur. There aren't many legends about the wolf constellation, because the Greeks and Romans only saw it as the beast accompanying the centaur. In contrast, others saw something completely different. Eratosthenes said it was a wine barrel held by a centaur. I once came across a rather specific myth. It tells of the Arcadian king Lycaon, who decided to put the god Zeus to the test. During a feast, a mortal man served human meat to the god. As punishment, he was transformed into a wolf and placed in the sky. 

I could go on and on. On the other hand, I learned from her about the latest discoveries. About theories and celestial entities that had just been written down. 

She told me about the discovery of Cruithne in 1986, quite recently. It is an asteroid orbiting the sun. And because of its gravitational links, some scientists call it the Earth's 'second moon'. But this statement is not accurate, because this asteroid does not orbit our planet, but moves in a complex orbit around the sun of the Earth. 

We didn't even notice when we fell asleep on the sofa. We woke up the very next day, covered in a blanket. 

This is how our new daily life began. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Every day we got to know Kath better. 

She told me about her family, her sister and the life she led. Meanwhile, I was elaborating on the Underworld. What our world is like. What goes on here. We had our evenings where we shared all sorts of information. 

I didn't notice it at the time, but Kath slowly began to break down the wall I had created around me. I gradually regained my faith in people without even realizing it. 

Only after a while did I realize that Kath had taught me patience. 

... 

That's how I could describe the rest of the week in a nutshell. Until the day Katharina was able to move freely. 

That day she met another person whose life she changed forever. 

I once heard that first impressions are the most important. According to people, it is when we first meet someone that we judge that person and know whether we want to be friends with them or not. 

They also say that sometimes we can meet someone who completely changes our lives when we least expect it. 

The lives of many of us have been changed small or big. Some only now realize how much she has really brought into our lives. 

... 

26 August 1994. 

I was finally able to get out of this house! 

This day was crazy, and I met so many interesting monsters! 

But let me start with this morning. 

Everything looked like it always does, except that Mr Gaster was still in the house. Usually when we got up, he was gone. I headed towards the sofa to fold the sheets I had covered myself with at night. I was about to put it in a drawer in the sofa when I heard a strange language coming from upstairs. In it I recognised the voice of Sans and Gaster. It made me terribly curious. I had never heard anything like that before. 

I quietly went upstairs. It was quite a challenge, as it seemed to creak terribly with every step I took. 

Eventually I managed to reach the top of the stairs. I crouched down by the railing so that no one would notice me. I didn't have to worry about cover from Papyrus. The youngster was washing dishes in the kitchen. Ever since I called him the Magnificent Papyrus he has been at every job. This attitude can only do him good. 

The door to Mr Gaster's workshop opened. Sans and his father emerged from the room. Their voices sounded really strange. I found it difficult to describe the language in any way. It didn't sound like anything I knew, although I wasn't some great polyglot either. 

Sans was talking about something with his father, and he didn't seem very enthusiastic. It seemed as if he was reluctant to do anything Mr. Gaster said. I would really like to know what they were talking about. Maybe it was related to our going out into the city? 

Unfortunately, I didn't hear any more as they started to move closer towards me. As quietly as I could I went downstairs and ran barefoot into the kitchen. I didn't want to come across as nosy. I grabbed a cup of some sort, pretending to make myself a cup of tea. 

"Hello!"  

I said innocently as they entered the kitchen. 

Paps had just finished cleaning up after breakfast, so he ran up to them. He jumped around them with a smile, asking when we could leave. I leaned against the worktop, contemplating the situation from a moment ago. Sans and Gaster's conversation seemed something out of the ordinary to me. I had never heard them speak the language, although Paps had hinted to me that in the Underworld a lot of the older monsters spoke the Ancient Language. Maybe that was the language? Only, they never spoke it. Did they want to hide something? Or am I just oversensitive?  Rather, it shouldn't interest me. They spoke it for a purpose, so maybe they preferred that I didn't know what they were talking about. 

Maybe I should consider learning their language? After all, I don't even know how much time I will spend here. 

A few minutes later we were dressed and ready to go. Sans had his favorite blue sweatshirt with fur, and Papyrus had an orange jumpsuit and a red scarf. I, on the other hand, covered myself with a coat the color of dark chocolate. I got it from Saera as well as many other clothes. At least I didn't have to walk around every day in the clothes I fell in. Although they weren't fit for anything anyway. My blood wouldn't come off, so the clothes ended up in the bin. 

... 

"So, what are you going to show me first?"  

I asked, turning to the guys. 

We were standing in front of their house. There was no snowstorm, although I was a little surprised. How could there be any weather underground? Maybe the barrier created some kind of space that allowed it? 

I have another question to ask Mr Gaster. It's getting to be a bit of a pile already. 

Mr Gaster said it depends on the location of the region and its depth. Snowdin is deeper than Ruins, but not as deep as Hotland. Snowdin is deep enough that heat from the surface doesn't come to it, and close enough to it that it doesn't draw heat from the planet's core like Hotland. Only this further didn't explain how there could be snowstorms or other weather anomalies here. 

But I'll get back to the guys. They both looked at each other, wondering what to show me first. They talked amongst themselves. Sans was in favour of showing me the library. According to him, it was an interesting place and he probably wanted to show me some monster books. Papyrus, meanwhile, thought it was too boring. He wanted us to go to the frozen lake. The ice cover was thick enough that there was no way it would break. Apparently, there were many monsters sliding on the ice or playing in the snow. 

Personally, I was more convinced by the Sansa idea. Mainly because there might have been fewer monsters there. Even standing in front of the skeleton house, I could feel the eyes of walkers on me. They seemed to be watching my every move and knew perfectly well who I was, despite the hood covering my face. I had the feeling that if sight could kill, I would be dead where I was standing. I felt a bit sorry for them. I hadn't done anything and they had already crossed me out. Apparently it was understandable that they feared people, but they can't generalise like that. I wasn't like the previous people who came by and I didn't want to hurt them. Mr Gaster had helped me and I had no intention of harming him in any way. I also didn't want him to get in trouble because of me, so I preferred a less crowded place. Mr Gaster advised me not to worry about their stodgy attitude. I tried to follow this. I didn't want to ruin the day; after all, the brothers were looking forward to it. Even Sans, although he wouldn't admit it. They also seemed happy, with the fact that they could show me the surroundings. 

I smiled in the direction of the two skeletons, whose discussion was turning into an argument. 

"How about we go to both places?"  

I suggested. The boys fell silent and looked at me. "Why don't we go to the ice rink first, and if it gets too cold, we'll go to the library to warm up?" Somehow, I didn't have any other idea, so they stopped arguing. 

"Suits for me," said Sans, after a moment's thought. 

Papyrus grabbed our hands, pulling us towards the lake. Even though he is a child he has strength! I almost couldn't keep up with him. He only slowed down when an older skeleton pointed him out. We walked calmly along the snow-covered path outside the town. A few more monsters were walking with us. I didn't look at them, preferring to avoid their suspicious gaze. However, I watched the forest all around. It was a real mystery to me how the trees could have grown there! There was no sun here, so photosynthesis could not have taken place. There were some crystals on the ceiling. Maybe they produced light similar to the sun? Or was it due to some kind of monster magic? 

"Sans, where does the light come from here?" I asked, looking up at the stone ceiling. The skeleton glanced up and then at me. 

"Light crystals", he shrugged his shoulders. "That's not even what magic powers. They just glow and dim. Such a cycle of day and night. And what were you expecting some ancient magic?" asked Sans with a big ironic smile. My face went blank. But I smiled back quickly. 

"No, come on," I said quickly, looking away from him. I felt a little bit bald that I had not thought of something so simple. "I knew, I just..." 

"Have you checked, do I know, what we use as a substitute for sunlight?" He asked ironically. He chewed me out. I thought of some powerful light spell, and it's just crystals 

I didn't have to look at him to know he was laughing at me. After all, they don't have to use magic for everything, and what would the Core be for then? I sighed heavily and the skeleton laughed at me. Paps didn't pay any attention to our exchange at all.  

He was so excited about the trip to the ice rink that he wasn't interested in anything else. From a distance we could already see the ice rink. It was no different from the ones I had seen on the Surface. A large lake surrounded by a few benches and a small wooden building where you can rent skates. This is where we were heading. Only we encountered an obstacle, or rather I had an unannounced encounter with the ground. One minute I was calmly walking ahead and the next something flew between my legs, knocking me over. 

"Get back here!" Unfortunately, I couldn't see who was shouting because a big white hairy ball appeared in front of me. It immediately started licking my face. I realized it was some kind of big dog. 

"Annoying Dog! Come back!" Strange name this dog has. I could still hear Paps and Sans, but I didn't understand them too much. I had to deal with a dog that wouldn't get off me. Annoying Dog started rubbing at me with his paws and I tried to pull him off somehow. While I was struggling with the dog, suddenly all the voices went silent. And the dog became interested in something else. I sighed in relief, but everyone was quiet. I looked questioningly at Sansa. 

"Look, Catty! It's a human!" I heard a girlish voice behind me. 

"She's probably dangerous, Bratty!" said another girl. 

Unfortunately, through a scuffle with a dog, my hood fell off. Mr. Gaster said it would be safer for me to wear it. Most monsters are aware of my presence, but that doesn't mean I should confront them. Gaster felt that some monsters would ignore the fact that I am here with the king's permission, and no one can do anything to me. Theoretically. Better not to tempt fate. I've been unlucky lately, so I wasn't incognito for long. A few monsters stopped, watching the situation. I quickly put on my hood, standing up. 

"You can finally be quiet!" I heard another shout, which was so unexpected that I jumped up. I turned towards the newcomers. A yellow lizard woman approached us. With a stern look, she looked at the two girls, the crocodile and the she-cat. Both immediately lowered their heads. "Can't you two be good for once?" 

"But it's a human, Al," the female cat said reproachfully.  

"They are dangerous" added the crocodile. 

Then the yellow lizard, which they called Al, glanced at me puzzled. I think it was only then that she noticed me. It wasn't very nice. 

It's at moments like this that you can regret being human. I felt like collapsing into the ground. 

The situation was saved by my skeletal friend. Sans approached the lizard woman, pulling her aside. I guess they knew each other, because they chatted freely with each other. From time to time, they glanced at me. At the same time Paps was arguing with Bratty and Catty about whether I was dangerous. 

This situation somehow made me tense. It robbed me of any desire to explore Snowdin. Only this dog was rubbing against my legs, demanding to be petted. I knelt down beside him. The dog was all white with long hair.  

I started stroking him behind his ears the same way Luna liked. 

I wondered how my dog was now? Luna was a young dog, but she managed to become attached to me. I often went with her on long walks to the park. She enjoyed them. So did scratching behind her ears. 

"We are also going to the ice rink, why don't you join us?" I was pulled out of my reverie by the voice of a yellow lizard. I got up from the ground looking at the others. 

"That's fine with me," said Sans. "The more of us the more fun. Right, bro?" Sans glanced at Paps, who started nodding cheerfully. "And you, Kath?" 

They all looked at me. I was a little abashed. I didn't really like being the center of attention. 

"If we're going one way, why not?" I replied, shrugging my shoulders. Could it have been worse? 

[myfanfictiongarden]

The Words Spoken, The Mind Healed- Dracula (1897)

Because we were left out of the evening of 25th of September

----

Mina Harker´s Journal

26th of September- Early morning. The clock had just stuck half past eight as Jonathan went out of doors to bring over the good professor from his hotel to breakfast at our place. Because I will have a few minutes before they arrive, I shall put down what went on yesterday evening, my head full of thoughts and impressions that are so convoluted and entangled, that it seems like I carrie the Gordian knot itself and desperately need Alexander's sword to make end of it. To think that all is true…

After professor Van Helsing left to read the manuscripts at his room in the hotel, I was left again with Mary alone in this big house and decided to finish bookkeeping that needed to be done, but had a hard time concentrating. Yet, I was thankful for the distraction, for while concentrating on figures and numbers my mind stayed clear for a while of other thoughts that might have distressed me if dwelled on too long without rest. After I was finished with the calculations of expanses for the next week it was time to think of supper. A letter came from Van Helsing that lifted a heavy weight from my mind yet brought dark dread upon me as well. Jonathan was sane, my dear beloved the brave man I always thought him to be- but his captor was then real as well, as were the other beings of his kind, and he in London. While I sat down to compose an answer, a telegram arrived just at that moment from Jonathan, telling he would be back with the last train at 10:15, so Mary and I agreed on the meal, which I was to have earlier and later on then only tea and some biscuits as to keep him company while he sups. Night came and the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind St. Peter, the hours passing by too slowly. By 10 o’clock I had abandoned both the novel I had attempted to read, the printed letters morphing into bats and beasts and wolfs, as well as the needle work that hanged limply in my hands, and so kept watching through the window for his form to arrive and bring me peace. 

Finally the knock on the door and a moment later I there to open it. Seeing his face, if even in the dim light of the hallway lamp, made my heart easy and some tears of joy about to sprung, so I drew my arms around him in embrace last he should see them.

“I am so glad you are back home.”

“Me too. I missed you, even if it was only one day.”

“Did you have a pleasant journey? Wait, let me help you. Mary has left some cold lamb and vegetables so you can eat right away.” With his coat and hat sat off I began to hasten to make the dining room ready, but he insisted late supper in the kitchen would do just as well.

“You are too humble for a lawyer.” I told him while he took the first bite after having set up the table by himself, like if he were still a simple clerk and not the master of a nice house.

“You are right. From tomorrow on I´ll set up the household as that we should live like the Tsars in the Winter Palace.” I knew he was jesting and loved him the more for it.

While he ate I asked him more about how his trip to Launceston went and if his client was satisfied, and he told me as much of his work as he could, continuing later to describe the picturesque town and landscape he saw from the train.

“How was your day?” He asked.

“I had a visitor today. You know the gentleman that wrote me concerning Lucy’s passing? He was her doctor and is the mentor of one of Mr. Holmwood´s friends. Wishing to learn more about her illness he received permission to read her letters and diary, and so came upon my name and wanted to meet me as to ask about our stay in Whitby.”

“I'm sorry that you should have such a distracting visit, she was such a dear friend of yours.” He said and placed his hand on mine in a gesture of comfort. I went on-

“He also asked me about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes, in the letters to Lucy, and my diary kept in Whitby, there was much mention of you. He asked me about your business trip and your health, and feeling bold in his presence I gave him your journal to read. He says- he says its all true.” My voice went to a whisper at the last part and the words hung now in the air, silence following them. He moved his hand from mine, his eyes widening for a moment, before his look settles on his half empty plate and stays there, long heartbeats without movement.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please don’t be angry with me! You gave me your journal to keep and I promised you, upon my soul, that I shall have it safe, to only read if duty commands it, and I have kept my promise, for when that episode caught hold of you in London it became necessary to learn the cause of it, the cause of it all to save you from further distress!”

“It is all true, so I am sane.” He whispers finally, and before I know what’s happening he has moved his chair to mine and taken hold of both my hands in his, bringing them to his lips and kissing feverishly. 

“My Mina, my darling Mina, most beloved in the world! What a blessed husband I am in you! But you, you had read it all, and must know now that I would battle all these demons again, imaginary or real, just to make it to you. It pains me, pains me so that you had to witness that horrors even if only in writing, yet part of me is glad to have a confidante in your collected mind.” We kissed, and tears streamed down both our faces. 

It was getting late so we decided to move upstairs to our room, leaving the kitchen for Mary to clean in the morning. It was simply by going through the motions that I dressed for the night, glad when finally under the covers and Jonathan sitting by my side. The bells were toiling midnight through the silence of the night as we both waited for our mouths to form a coherent word.

“Tell me.” I said at last, and so he did. It was only a shorter account of his journey and his stay at the Count's castle, but hearing it from his own lips made it even more horrifying. He would stop at times, as if battling with himself and his memory to distinguish what had really happened and what might have been imagined, at times worried he might shock me too much, but he did not need to say everything in order for me to understand.

“And when I thought it all had just been an awful dream brought upon me by fever, and sure I had passed the worst, I saw him there across the street, in London, walking among people like he were a man too. And while he didn’t see me, I could see his eyes, forever burned into my mind as their were, so blazing red, like- like…”

“Red like the blood red setting sun.” I said as a memory washed over me.

“How do you now?” He asked, noticing my expression change as frightful realisation finally settled upon me.

“Because he was there that night with Lucy.” I told him finally the whole story of my stay by the sea, and that awful night that I had found her lying on our bench up by the old churchyard. He listened patently as I told of all her instances of sleepwalking that followed, of her ebbing spirits and the rattle of wings at night at our window.

“What ever illness she acquired there, he must have brought it with him. To think her sweet nature in his presence…”

“It truly is an illness that consumes body and soul. Don’t cry my darling, for what ever misplaced guilt you may feel- yes, I say misplaced for I know you already blame yourself for not having protected her better- it matters little when he sets his mind, believe me, I know from being in his presence and in the one of these frightful women, although that word is unfit to describe them just a he is little a man himself. I know not what he is, or what they are, nor what any of it means, but if this professor Van Helsing has as much wisdom as you say- and he seems to know a deal more than us poor people from Exeter- he will bring light into this terrible darkness and peace to our minds. There may be yet a way to fight this evil, and I am ready to take up my sword like St. George did when facing the dragon.” His voice was even and strong, and I could see a change in him, his old strength of mind returned. 

Full of gratitude for seeing him not doubting his mind  anymore, I leaned closer and kissed him gently.

“What ever we will have to face, we'll face it together. “

[savoies]

mad at you - anthony beauvillier.

summary: tito and y/n were friends with benefits but what happens when they realize that they want something more

Or

no matter how hard they tried y/n kept on coming back to tito and tito kept on coming back to y/n

specified pronouns: she/her.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, maybe one bad word.

a/n: I wrote this with the help of my best friend last summer and after five rough drafts and one whole year later here we are. also I know a lot of people voted for tito on this one so here we finally have it. I don't want to talk about how long it took me to write because it was definitely one of the most challenging fics to write ever.

(*credit to gif owner*)

Here you were yet another fight between you and Tito. Probably over something stupid but fights between you guys seemed to be reacurring a lot these past few days. He was out on the hallway sitting on the stairs while you were pacing back and forth near the front door, both trying to calm yourselves down. Tito walked back inside ready to talk it out with you.

“Y/N look i'm sorry for whatever I said, but why can't you see that this is so much more than some casual hookup.” Tito spoke up. See that was the problem. To you it was just a hookup,or at least you pretended for it to be, because you were scared of it being something more. So your whole blowup sort of seemed reasonable, at least to you. You were done with this, he kept on going on for a while now on how your friends with benefits deal should be more but you thought that wouldn't be for the best due to certain circumstances. He was a professional hockey player and you were scared of what it would be like. People probably knowing every detail of your relationship and him being away quite a lot. Y/N was a sucker for romance. She wasn't scared of commitment but what if Tito didn't feel the same once they were actually in a relationship. Thinking that once the euphoria of the feeling of sex wore off he would feel difffent. But of course Tito didn't, he wanted this, he wanted something more with you.

“Anthony please, you don't know what you're saying.” Y/N exasperated as she pulled her hair.

“What do you mean I don't know what i'm saying, I'm fully capable of my words. I'm not drunk Y/N, we had one glass of wine two hours ago, just please listen to me.”

¨No, I'm sorry Tito, please just go.¨ the girl said, she didn't want to hear what they could be in some imaginary world of his.

~~~

After Y/N kicked out Tito she thought about his words quite a lot. Them repeating in her head everyday as she went to bed. Tito wasn't one to lie, especially about his feelings. Now they were avoiding each other neither one brave enough to send the come over text even though they both needed each other.

“Dude I don't even know why you got yourself in this situation” Mat told his best friend.

Since Tito had found out he was in love with Y/N he came to his best friend for support. Even though Mat wasn't much support just stating that Tito had dug himself into this hole so he had to get himself out. What a great best friend Tito thought.

Weeks later Tito finally broke the silence with a simple come over text. He had a stressful game and needed you. In many more ways than one. Y/N headed over with one thought in her head, We are simply gonna talk. And as she headed into Mat and Tito’s apartment complex she repeated that thought. Yet three hours later here she was laying in bed with the sheets wrapped around her body and Tito's arm around her waist. Great talking she thought. She looked over at the clock, a bright green 2:23am looking back at her. She decided it was better to head home instead of facing him in the morning.

~~~

13 hours later here she was standing in front of his apartment once again to simply talk. They didn't do much talking that day either. She moaned as his lips grazed her skin. Needing his touch. As they were both bare and their bodies collided together in unison.

Later that night after pulling apart Anthony spoke first “you want takeout?”

“Anthony, what are we doing?” Y/N rubbed her hands over her face.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“What are we, because all I see here is two people hooking up,” you said as both of you laid in bed.

“We are more than just a hookup and you know it.” Tito said as he pushed himself up with his elbows. “we fell in love along the way and you know it, please tell me do i mean nothing to you?”

“Don’t do this. don’t make this into something it’s not.” You said as you got out of bed and picked up your clothes.

“Don’t do this y/n please, you know it's something more.” Tito said as he grabbed your arm slightly.

“Yes! ok! Yes, you mean something and I hate it! I hate it that I think of you way too much! I hate that you're all that consumes my mind every night as I lay in bed because it's scary how much you mean to me” You told him, turning to face him.

~~~

You had gone out with your friends, to some club in the middle of New York City. And now here you stood outside in the cold with your arms wrapped around you, waiting for Tito to pick you up.

So now as you sat in the car with him you didn't expect the conversation you were going to have next.

“Look Y/N i want to be with you and I don't know why you're holding me back, why are you denying me.” Tito said as he drove through the lit up streets of New York City.

“Tito please, not right now, not today, can we just drive home in silence.” You said letting out a sigh.

“No Y/N we can't. You know why we can't, because I got out of my bed and drove across town to pick you up ok. So that is why we can't. Please just do me the favor of listening to me, maybe even talking if you want.” He said, knuckles clutching the steering wheel.

“What do you want me to say Tito. That I want you and that we should be together just so what we already have together can end.” You told him.

“Y/N see, that's the problem. You keep on talking about how if we get together what we have now will end but its not so are you just going to keep on doing this. Going to keep pushing me away like you always do with everything and everyone.” He said.

Now Y/N knew that she shouldn't have gotten mad at him. Maybe it had to do with all her insecurities and vulnerabilities coming out or even the slight alcohol in her system so of course she felt sort of like Tito was attacking her.

“Yes! I am gonna do that! And you know what? I'm gonna forget about you!” She said as she stepped out of her car and walked up to her apartment building. “Thanks for the ride.” She said as she closed the door.

“You don’t mean that.” Tito said, knowing that it was probably just the alcohol in her system.

“I do! so make it easier for yourself and stop coming around!” She said as she walked into her apartment building and Tito drove off after letting out a sigh and seeing the girl enter the building.

~~~

After that night Tito and Y/N haven't seen each other for a couple of months. Her burying herself in school and Tito with practice. None of them talking about what happened. Both of them busying themselves with friends and going out to hopefully forget about the other except it wasn't that easy. Or it wasn't going to be that easy as they drowned themselves with going out and with hooking up.

Tito had hooked up with some random girl and at night in the dark with alcohol in his system he didn't realize it but in the morning as he took in his surroundings he realized that it was your apartment building. Him exiting the apartment and seeing you laughing with your friends as you entered the elevator. And right there and then was when Tito realized that all this busying himself couldn't help with how much he missed you. How much he missed doing random stuff like takeout at midnight, or how much he missed you in between his sheets.

After that night, a few days later he stood here outside your door. Bringing himself to knock. You opening the door after three knocks. “I couldn't forget about you.” Tito said as he took in your appearance.

There he stood. The boy you tried to forget. Yet somehow you couldn't. Because no matter how hard you tried to forget him or stay mad at him you couldn't. All you wanted to do was be with him and after fighting it for so long, you couldn't longer do it. You wrapped your arms around him, his arms placed on the small of your back as you placed your hands on his face and leaned in. The kiss being real this time, being filled with so much need and passion, not just some hot and messy hookup kiss. In the end, you couldn't stay mad at him and he couldn't stay mad at you.

.☆☆☆.

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[musings-from-mars]

@dragonslayer-week 2022 Day 2 (July 26): Nerd Yang / Jock Jaune

(High School AU)

Whatever the deal was with these guys, Jaune would never know. He has spent all summer practicing, preparing for football season, but even with how much he had improved with his catching and route running, his "teammates" did not seem to like him at all. Four in particular. Was it because he'd improved? No, it's not like he would be taking any of their spots on the team. He was good, but not better than them.

But every day of summer workouts, Jaune would arrive to the locker room and either receive the cold shoulder from them, or receive short, combative warnings from them, about staying out of their way, "Don't look at me, Jaune boy."

His coaches weren't much help. "They're just being competitive." Again, Jaune knew that wasn't it. Why be so competitive with the 3rd string tight end?

It was Friday, scrimmage day. Jaune was having a good practice, having not dropped a single pass thrown his way, unless you count that throw that ended up intercepted because that definitely was not his fault. A few teammates were encouraging, but those same four guys, Cardin, Dove, Skye and Russel, could not stop making him feel uneasy.

After a particularly rough shove from Cardin, during a minimal-contact run-through, Jaune finally had enough. "What is your problem with me?!" He asked, pushing himself back up to his feet. He did not want to get into a fight with this guy, but Cardin was advancing towards him. Other team members and a coach had to step in.

The question was genuine. He really wanted to know why Cardin and his buddies were so hostile towards him. Jaune didn't think he'd done anything to them. In fact, he generally avoided them for obvious reasons. He didn't get an answer. The coach told Cardin to go take a seat on the bench for the rest of practice. He'd get a talking to afterwards.

After practice, Jaune waited on the curb near the field as usual, waiting for his ride home from his older sister (he could not wait to get his own car, whenever that day would come). Saph was notorious for running late, so he would probably be there for a while. And in this heat? He was fine with just sitting here instead of getting a little extra practice in like other team members often did. He just sat under this tree, on his phone.

Jaune: Practice is over. Now the wait begins

Yang: Lol nice. Wanna hang out later

Jaune: Maybe after I shower. And nap. And eat like ten hamburgers or smthn. Probably shower twice

Yang: Stinky

Jaune: Hey

Jaune: You're not wrong

He had been friends with Yang since they were kids, when his family would take vacations to Patch. Then Yang's family moved here, three blocks away from Jaune's house. That trip between houses was made many times on bikes. Or in Yang's case, on bikes, then on motorized bikes, and as she had been working on for a long time, eventually a proper motorcycle. She'd been saying she wanted to finish it before the school year started, and she promised she'd start giving Jaune rides to and from school. He wasn't completely up for it, given Yang had a reckless streak, but riding a motorcycle definitely sounded fun, even if it definitely would get him in trouble with his parents if they new about it. But Yang was wildly smart, so he wasn't worried about anything with the bike itself (he was still amazed that her dad let her build one).

This was an unusually long wait. Maybe Saph was occupied with her college classes, or studying, or Terra. He had probably been here for about an hour when he noticed someone walking his way. It was Cardin and his crew.

Yang: Hey, wanna see something cool?

Jaune didn’t have time to respond. These four were heading his way with a purpose. A purpose he was not excited about dealing with. He stood to his feet, trying to seem brave, but much like when on the field, he didn’t like his chances against four big defenders.

“You’ve fucked up, Jaune boy,” Cardin said. He towered about a foot taller than Jaune, and significantly wider too. He could probably squeeze the sap out of a tree trunk.

“What did I do?” Jaune asked, curious of what he’d say. Again, he legitimately wanted to know.

“Like you don’t know,” Cardin said, slowly closing the distance between them. Jaune instinctively began backing up, onto the empty road.

“I really don’t,” Jaune said. “You guys come after me for no reason.”

“There’s plenty of reason, pussy,” Cardin spat. “You think you’re all that, you think you’re better than me, well I’ll teach you, get you to know better.”

“What?” Jaune never considered himself better than Cardin. Football wise, anyway. They played two completely different positions. As a person, though? He was definitely a better person than Cardin.

“That girlfriend of yours,” Cardin continued. “No, actually, that bitch of yours.”

Girlfriend? This was news to Jaune. Wait… “You mean Yang?”

“Uhhh ‘you mean Yang?’” Skye mocked, chuckling with the others as they stood behind Cardin.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jaune said. “And she’s not a bitch, either.”

“Oh yes she is,” Cardin said. “She never told you? What she did to me?”

Jaune tilted his head. “Huh?”

“She stood me up, for you.”

Since when did Yang agree to go on a date with Cardin Winchester? “What?”

“She just needs to see who the real man here is,” Cardin said. “Not some piss rag like you.”

“I don’t know what you’ve convinced yourself is true, but Yang would never want to go out with you,” Jaune told him.

“That’ll change.” Cardin grinned and clapped his hands, rolling his shoulders as if warming up.

Jaune considered running, but where to? Besides, there was four of them, and Skye was especially fast. He was stuck here. Would he really have to do this?

“What’s it gonna be, Jaune boy?” Cardin said, standing and waiting to see if Jaune would step up. “Fight like a man?”

Jaune remembered something his dad once told him. “Men don’t fight, but children do.” Too bad Cardin was being a very big, very angry child right now. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. Yep, he had no choice…

“Pussy,” Cardin said and set on Jaune, stomping forward. Jaune began backtracking, evading Cardin’s attempts to grab and punch him. Jaune managed to shove him away, but that wouldn’t keep working. Fuck, where was Saph? Or the coach? Anyone that could stop this? Jaune just wanted to go home.

Cardin landed a glancing blow to Jaune’s temple. It didn’t exactly hurt that much, but triggered reflex tears in his eye, which steamed down his face. “Yeah, cry,” Cardin taunted, only for Jaune to quickly lower his shoulder and block him backwards. Cardin was surprised and stumbled back, falling to his butt.

Jaune took a shaky breath and stepped back. Maybe he’d stop now?

No, of course not, and now Cardin was even more angry. She got up and grunted, breaking into an almost-run towards Jaune.

It was then that Jaune heard the sound of a motor quickly approaching. He turned to look down the street. It was a yellow motorcycle, the rider wearing a very recognizable flaming gold helmet.

“Yang?” Jaune muttered, only to get punched in the face. He partially dodged, taking it just under the eye instead of the nose. He fell to the ground, but when he looked back up, Cardin’s attention was turned toward Yang, who had skidded to a stop and dismounted her newly completed motorcycle.

“Oh hey, look who showed up,” Cardin said, grinning at Yang. He cracked his knuckles. “Don’t worry, hun. Just settling some issues.”

Yang was dressed in a brown jacket over an orange tank top and black jeans. She slipped the helmet off her head, letting her hair fall and revealing a very angry expression. She kept toward Cardin.

“Yeah yeah, that’s it, bring it in, cutie,” Cardin said, arms outstretched as if expecting a hug.

He instead got a helmet to the teeth.

Cardin stumbled to his knees and roared in pain. He held his mouth, blood dripping on the street. “Whath the thuck?!”

Yang looked at the other three, all wide-eyed and frozen in place.

“Oh, shit.” Jaune muttered.

“Fuck outta here,” Yang grumbled to the three, and gestured to Cardin with her helmet. “And take him and his teeth with you.”

“Thuck you!” Cardin cursed as he stumbled to his feet.

“Come on, let’s tell coach,” Dove suggested.

“Yeah, tell your coach a girl knocked your huge gopher teeth out, tough man,” Yang said with a smile, flashing her silver braces.

“Thut the thuck up, bisch!” Cardin yelled, his voice breaking. The four turned and left, likely to get Cardin home and call a dentist.

Yang made sure to watch them leave, then turned in time to see as Jaune got to his feet. She shook her head. “What the fuck happened?”

“Apparently,” Jaune said as he watched the four leave too. “He’s pissed about you standing him up?”

Yang leaned her head back and groaned. “Seriously?”

“Since when do you like dickheads like him?”

“I don’t? But he just would. Not. Stop.” Yang paused and poked Jaune in the cheek. “Does that hurt?”

“Ow— Slightly.”

She stepped closer and looked at his eye closely. “Hmm.”

“I see you finished your bike,” Jaune said with a chuckle. “Good timing.”

“Your eye looks fine, I think.”

“I think it was mostly my cheek,” he said, acknowledging the annoying throbbing along his cheekbone. She was still looking at his face closely. He could feel her breath on his face. Hair was sticking to her forehead from wearing a helmet in this heat. “What’s with the red contacts?”

“I can’t wear my huge glasses under my helmet visor.”

“But why red?”

“I’m a weeb.” She nodded, then coughed and stepped back. “Yep, you’re stinky. Well…” She gestured to her bike. “Want a ride?”

“Maybe after you explain the rest of whatever the hell Cardin was talking about.”

“He would talk to me every day between classes last year,” she said. “And I kept saying no, no, fuck off, no. I think he just thought I was playing hard to get. Which I was. I was very hard for him to get, but apparently he’s no quitter.”

“And so you eventually agreed to go out with him?”

“No! He walked up to me, handed me a movie ticket, and told me to meet him at the theater at 10pm to see that Jay Hawk movie.”

“The one we went to see?”

“Yep! I took the ticket and brought you instead!”

Jaune blinked. “Well no wonder he thinks we’re dating.”

“He thinks we…? Well no wonder he tried to fight you. He’s an insecure little weirdo.”

Jaune chuckled. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“I mean, thanks for giving me an excuse to knock the guy’s teeth out.” She looked at her helmet and sighed, pointing at the top. “Left a mark.”

“My condolences to your helmet on its injury,” Jaune said sarcastically, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I’m sorry that douche hit you. That’s so fucked up, honestly. You didn’t do anything.

“Well, I don’t think he’ll mess with me anymore. He might think my girlfriend will come after him again.”

“I’ll take any chance he gives me,” Yang said honestly. “I just…really hate him. I hope he has that coin slot in the front of his face forever.

“Same.”

She led him over to her newly completed bike. “Well, what do you think?”

“You seriously built this whole thing all on your own,” Jaune said, not really asking, more just expressing his wonder. The bike had a yellow and orange color scheme and chrome accents. It was the coolest thing he had ever seen.

“With a little help from my dad.” She lifted the backseat and pulled a spare helmet from the hidden compartment. She tossed it to Jaune. “Safety first.”

He caught the helmet and laughed. “All that studying paid off then?”

“I taught myself how to build a motorcycle, and then I did,” Yang said with a shrug.

“Just as a fun little project.”

“Yep.”

Jaune would never not envy how smart Yang was. “So humble.” He said with a smile, then put his helmet on. “So, do I just…?”

She climbed onto the bike and started the engine. “Just climb on back.”

“Do I need to, like, hold onto you?” Jaune asked as he awkwardly got onto the bike behind her.

“Sure,” she said, having to yell over the engine. “If you really want to.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, encircling her waist and locking his fingers together in front of her, because he didn’t know where else to put his hands. “How fast does this thing go?”

“Dunno, shall we find out?”

“Uh.”

Yang laughed. “JK, I’m taking things slow with her.”

“Her?”

“Her name’s Bumblebee.”

He patted the side of the bike. “Hi Bumblebee.”

Yang laughed, leaning back and nudging him with her shoulder. “Shall I get you home so you can shower and nap and eat your hamburgers?”

“Yes please.”

“I could join you.”

“You want burgers?”

“No, to shower and nap with you, duh,” she said sarcastically, nudging him again, and making him blush. “We aren’t actually dating, remember?”

“Well, I mean…” Jaune began, muttering softly enough to where he assumed she wouldn’t be able to hear.

Yang giggled and revved the engine. “Off we go!” She took off down the street, accelerating much faster than Jaune expected. He yelped and leaned back, jabbing Yang in the stomach with his locked hands. She shook her head and for some reason, began driving in a serpentine manner, making Jaune wobble side to side. “Just getting you used to it!” She yelled.

“Ahhhh,” Jaune responded in the most respectable way he could.

Yang laughed again and accelerated. He was a bit more ready for it this time. As she got on a busier road and sped up, he couldn't help but laugh. This was awesome! And terrifying!

But if Yang was being truthful about giving him rides every day, he would surely get used to it eventually.

[eggsaladstain]

say my name and i’ll follow you home

Links: AO3, Fanfiction.net Fandom: All of Us Are Dead (Netflix, 2022) Character(s): Lee Su-hyeok, Choi Nam-ra Status: Complete Summary: The path to happiness is long and winding for Su-hyeok and Nam-ra, but eventually, they get there.

say my name and i’ll follow you home

...

prelude

Su-hyeok dreams in black and white – long, inky hair against a crisp, clean shirt, burning wood in a bonfire started by a lighter, thick clouds hanging in the sky as a palm gently pressed his knee.

He wakes with his hand outstretched and her name on his lips.

It's cool and sweet, like melting snow after a long winter.

...

Nam-ra dreams in red – the hazy scarlet that clouds her gaze, the steady stream of crimson dripping down her chin, the stains, deep like rubies, that will never leave her hands.

She wakes with an aching hunger tightening her throat, and it's only the memory of his voice calling her name that lets her breathe again.

It's like a tether, a string around her finger, the phantom touch of fabric tied around her wrist.

...

i.

Life under quarantine is a lot like high school, if Su-hyeok's being honest.

There are designated mealtimes, physical checkups, mandatory exercise, and even math and writing classes to attend. It's mundane and more than a little boring, but he can't complain, not when he has a bed, clean clothes, a roof over his head, and the knowledge that there are no monsters lurking in any of these streets or dark corners.

It has been one month since they made it to safety, but it feels like only yesterday.

He can still remember every last detail – the hours spent sitting in that cold, damp cell, the doctors poking and prodding with needles, the whirlwind of questions that had seemed to go on for days.

Once they'd finally been cleared, once they'd passed all the tests and interrogations, the six of them were treated like brave soldiers returning home from war. In a sense, that's exactly what they were, but they never should've had to be, and he feels resentment even now when eyes and whispers follow him around camp, when people burst into applause – or worse, tears – at the sight of him.

The adults keep trying to touch him, to pat his head or rub his cheeks as if he were a lucky charm, more bujeok than boy. And then there's the way they look at him, with a cloying awe and hope, as if they hadn't been the ones to leave him and his friends out there to die, as if they weren't the reason one of them had chosen to stay behind.

Shortly after they arrive at the camp, news of their survival spreads all the way to the Blue House, and the government immediately jumps on the opportunity to rewrite the story of the outbreak, ending not with the tragic bombing of Hyosan but instead with the miraculous rescue of six surviving high school students. He wants to ask the reporters exactly who they thought had done the rescuing, because the way he recalls it, he and his friends had been forced to save themselves.

It's a media frenzy after that. There are interviews and photo-ops and a never-ending parade of men and women in suits shaking his hand and telling him how brave he is, how happy they are that he survived, how bright his future will be. Their story is told and retold, with some pieces missing and other parts added, and the articles are often accompanied by photos from their school days. It hurts every time, seeing those pictures, remembering how young they had once been, looking upon the smiling faces of those they had lost.

Even now, months later, their names are repeated by news anchors and YouTubers alike, and most days, they're still trending on social media. The headlines have other names for them too – the student survivors, the nation's children, the Hyosan High Six.

He hates it.

He hates the nicknames, the constant attention, the reminder that so few of them survived. There should have been more of them, and there could have been, if only someone had bothered to help.

Most of all, he hates that no one will ever know the real story, that no one but them will ever know the truth.

It wasn't just six of them who survived.

It was seven.

...

Slowly but surely, Nam-ra learns how to live again.

Three months after the bombing, the city is still under lockdown, and she spends her days walking the empty streets, drawing a map of this ghost town with her feet. To pass the time, she reads books and magazines, she writes, she draws, she learns to knit. When she's hungry, she eats stale chips and canned fruit, and when she's very hungry, she goes fishing. She's gotten quite good at it, even if she's still learning to tolerate the taste.

Every other week or so, she meets the other hybrids. They gather in a circle, sharing the locations of safe places to spend the night and teaching each other strategies for controlling their cravings, a sort of study group for their least favorite class. They are not friends and she does not miss them when they're gone, but they are a family in their own way, bound together by the shared virus that still courses through their veins.

Most days, she is alone, and the solitude is familiar, welcome even. It's not so different from her life before. The only thing that's changed is her.

She hasn't touched a human since that terrible day all those months ago. She refuses, time and time again, to listen to that voice inside her head, the one telling her to eat, the one telling her to feed.

Some days are easy and she barely feels the hunger at all.

Other days are harder.

Other days, her vision bleeds red and her bones crack beneath her skin and she feels more like a gaping hole than a living girl.

During those days, she goes back to her family's apartment, puts on her favorite shirt, and lays down in her own bed. It makes her feel like her old self again, it makes her feel almost human again, and when she wakes, the hunger has dulled and her eyes are clear.

Truth be told, most days are hard. But she gets through them, somehow.

She tries not to think too much about the others, and that's hard too.

She tries, and most of the time, she fails.

Once, in the early days, a week or so after she left them on that empty street, she had even tried to visit them. She made it all the way to the woods outside the camp, and she stood there, hidden among the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of them through the fence, hoping to hear their voices, at the very least.

She never did.

Instead, she was met with the sight of armed soldiers on patrol and the metallic clink of their guns echoing in her ears, and she remembered then that what separated her from her friends was so much more than just a wall and some fencing.

Back in their school days, she had always kept her distance, never really allowing herself to be a part of their world, and now, she never would be again.

She hasn't been back to see them since, but she thinks about it often.

She is afraid of the soldiers and she is afraid of dying, but she fears the loss of her friends even more.

Perhaps she will try again in another month, maybe two, when she is no longer raw with regret and loss and the knowledge that they have been saved but she has not, that they will have a future while she will have only this, a life lived in secret, in shadows.

It's not quite a life, she is not quite living, but she does it anyway, because what other choice does she have?

The outbreak, the virus, the bombing – she survived it all.

And on nights when she is cold and alone and hungry, she takes comfort in this.

Despite everything, she survived.

Even if it doesn't always feel like it.

...

ii.

It was late summer when he last saw her and early winter before they finally meet again.

The sight of her is everything he's ever wanted – it's his dreams made real, it's a relief, a reprieve from the constant ache of missing her, and it's over far too soon.

Before he can react, she's gone again, a flash of dark hair disappearing over the ledge of the roof, a soft thud of feet hitting pavement.

It's not the first time he's watched her go.

He refuses to let it be the last.

The next night, he returns, alone, and makes his way up to the rooftop. He lights a fire and takes a seat near its warmth, his eyes scanning the horizon for the slightest movement. He waits for hours, until the flames die out and the sun comes up, but she never shows.

He returns again, the next night, and the one after that, and the one after that. Su-hyeok has never been particularly patient, but for her, he will try.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

For 48 nights, he waits, and on the 49th, she returns.

...

Later, during their happy times, she asks him what he would've done if she'd never showed up.

Kept waiting, he shrugs, as if the answer were obvious.

She laughs, giving his a shoulder a gentle nudge, but the smile falls from her lips when she sees him looking back at her, his face solemn and sincere.

For how long? she asks.

He replies without hesitation. Forever.

...

She hadn't planned on going back.

Their reunion around the bonfire was supposed to be the last time, the only time, a chance for her to say a proper goodbye, so she could finally let them go, so she could leave them with the memory of the girl she was and not this other thing she has become.

It had been harder than she wanted but easier than expected, even if the sight of them had hit her like a fist, even if the sound of him saying her name had nearly unraveled her.

But it was okay. She would be okay. And she is, right up until the next night when she sees the bonfire burning again, when she sees one lone silhouette sitting across the flames.

She doesn't go up to see him, but she does stay the night, watching and listening for the slightest hints of danger, waiting until he puts the fire out and makes it safely back to camp before she finally lets herself walk away.

He's there the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that. And each time, she keeps watch from the shadows, keeping him safe from the other creatures out there in the woods, keeping him safe from herself.

A week passes, and she thought he would've given up by now, and then two weeks go by, then a month.

It's the dead of winter, the air frigid enough that she can see her breaths, and still, he returns, night after night, waiting. Waiting for her.

Finally, she can no longer stand it.

Nearly two months after she said goodbye, Nam-ra steps out of the shadows and makes her way back up to the rooftop.

She hadn't known then that this would change everything.

She had only wanted to let him in from the cold.

...

Many years later, during the bad times, when she is tired and bitter and lonely, she will wonder if it was a mistake to go to him that night, to open that door again and invite herself back into his life.

She could've saved the both of them so much heartache if only she'd ignored him and kept walking.

But then she pictures him all alone on that rooftop, shivering, holding his hands out to the fire, sitting patiently in the dark.

She imagines him waiting, night after night, for someone who never arrives, and the thought, it haunts her.

Maybe it was a mistake.

She would make it again in a heartbeat.

...

iii.

Their first date is in the back room of an abandoned clothing store. Their next one is in a windowless basement and the one after that, in the stairwell of a half-demolished building.

It's not exactly the romantic night out that Su-hyeok would've planned, not the typical teenage romance he's seen so many times in dramas, but they are not exactly typical teenagers, so he supposes they will have to make it work.

Honestly, it works better than it has any right to.

They develop a language of their own, a series of codes and signals to let each other know when and where to meet, and she always gets there first, admitting later that she likes hearing the sound of his footsteps coming up the street. It's just as well, because he prefers arriving after her and seeing the way her face lights up when he enters the room.

They spend most nights together, talking about their hopes, their dreams, their fears, and everything in between. He could listen to her talk for hours, and he does, sometimes falling asleep and waking up with his head against hers and her hand wrapped around his.

In the mornings, he waits for her to leave before sneaking back to camp, and if the others notice that he's in a better mood, they don't say anything, and if an adult happens to stop by his bunk after lights out and notice him missing, they're quick to cover for him every time.

They're just glad to see him smile again.

...

Their routine goes like this:

He kisses her hello.

She kisses him goodbye.

And in between, they talk all night and into the morning.

Before they know it, six months have passed.

...

Their friends are genuinely glad the two of them have found each other again.

But they worry too.

They don't see how this story could possibly have a happy ending.

...

A year after the outbreak, the lockdown in Hyosan is finally lifted.

The city reopens, and while some people return to their old lives, most do not, opting instead to make a fresh start somewhere new.

Each of the survivors from Hyosan High are given a generous donation by the government to help them start their new lives, wherever that may be, and of those six students, five of them choose to leave.

As for the sixth, he decides to stay, much to the chagrin of the adults around him. They urge him to reconsider, asking him why he would want to stay in this place, telling him that he'll be wasting his life in this ghost town.

It's only his peers who are silent, who don't protest or question his choice. They understand why he stays and they are perhaps the only ones who do. On a cool summer day, they bid him goodbye, wishing him well, and then they are gone and he is the last living high school student left in Hyosan.

The adults shake their heads in dismay, wondering how he will manage now that he's all alone.

But Su-hyeok has always been good at adapting.

And he is not alone.

...

In the end, they do get their happy ending.

But that doesn't come until much later.

...

iv.

Before they know it, another six months have passed.

Su-hyeok buys a small house on the outskirts of town, and they move in together, giddy like newlyweds.

In the mornings, he goes to the library to study for the police exam, and she stays inside and paints. In the evenings, they have dinner together, and when it's dark, they take a walk outside and look at the stars.

The city is no longer empty like it was in the early days, though it is still far from the bustling metropolis it used to be, and while the only people who might recognize her are either long dead or long gone, they still choose to be careful. There would be too many questions if anyone ever saw them out on the street, so they continue to live in secret, just the two of them.

It's not so bad.

They have the days as well as the nights, they have music and laughter, they have memories of the times they've shared and the knowledge that there will be more still to make.

They have each other.

And life is good.

...

Su-hyeok still remembers the first time she ever said his name. Even now, years later, he still remembers.

It was halfway through his first year of high school and he'd been running out the front door at the end of the day, bumping into someone in the process and sending both their bags flying. He'd muttered a hasty apology as he picked up the books and papers scattered across the ground and when he stood up, there she was, the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

He didn't know her, and it would be another year before they were in the same class, but in that moment, he was smitten.

He apologized again, more formally this time, awkwardly handing her things back to her before turning away, wishing desperately that he'd had the guts to say something more.

Lee Su-hyeok, she had said then, and he stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice, quiet but firm, the voice of someone who would one day give speeches or maybe orders.

He turned around, wondering how she knew his name, wondering if she would berate him for being so reckless, but she'd only looked at him with a cool, even stare. You dropped this, she said simply, brushing the dirt from his notebook before handing it to him and walking away.

It was nice, the way she had said his name, so formal and tidy, unlike the way he'd scribbled it onto his notebook cover. She had been so careful with it too. He had never been a very good student, and inside, the pages were covered with more doodles than notes, but she had handed it back to him like it was something precious.

He watched her go, her outline getting smaller and smaller until she disappeared from view, and from that moment on, he was hers.

He remembers this now as he watches her across the room.

She sits on their bed with a sketchpad in her lap, and her fingers move gracefully, like a dancer waltzing across the page.

He has never loved anyone as much as he loves her.

He doesn't think he ever will.

...

Their routine goes like this:

He studies and she paints, and they cook, they clean, they talk, they laugh.

Before they know it, they've built a life.

...

Nam-ra finds herself wondering sometimes where she would be if none of this had ever happened.

Maybe she'd be living in an expensive apartment in Seoul and working a fancy, corporate job. Maybe she'd be on a plane halfway around the world. Or maybe, she'd still have ended up here in this house on the edge of the city where she grew up.

She wonders too what would've happened between her and Su-hyeok. If their world hadn't been ripped apart and they hadn't been forced together, where would they be?

Maybe they still would've ended up together, the high-school sweethearts who got married and started a family. Maybe they would've drifted apart in college and been banished to each other's memories. Or maybe they would've been nothing at all, just another vaguely familiar name in an old yearbook, one among many.

When she considers all the options, even she has to admit that the life she has isn't so bad.

She has a clean house, food on the table, and the knowledge that she is safe. She has good days and bad days, and these days, the good far outnumber the bad.

Maybe it's not a fancy city apartment, and maybe she's not traveling the world, but she has a boy she loves, a boy who loves her back.

She has never been happier than when she is wrapped in his arms, his embrace soft like silk but strong like a promise.

It's one she would very much like to keep.

...

They have a life together, and it is good.

For a while.

...

v.

It's two years into their relationship when the cracks start to form.

They don't notice, not at first.

They're just happy to have made it this far.

They have no way of knowing that six months later, they'll be apart.

...

Su-hyeok is a police officer now, tasked with protecting the same city that so completely failed him, and it may sound noble of him, but it's not. All he wants to do help people, to protect those who need it and make sure no one else is ever abandoned and left to die like he and his friends were. It shouldn't be considered noble to do the right thing.

For the most part, the work is slow. The city is still on the rebound, and within the precinct he's assigned to, the residents continue to walk around on tiptoe as if the virus may come back at any moment. There is very little crime to speak of, so he mostly rescues cats from trees and helps the neighborhood elders with their errands. Those same elders always whisper behind his back that it's such a shame he never left the city, so much wasted potential, but Su-hyeok doesn't mind. He makes a difference in the small ways, and that's enough for him.

About nine months into his career, the work picks up in a big way. Crime rings across the country start flocking to Hyosan, and, to be honest, he can't say he blames them. It's the perfect spot for illegal activity, full of abandoned buildings and understaffed police stations. Su-hyeok and his team work overtime with the other precincts, but they're just barely able to shut down one operation before another one pops up in its place.

He spends more and more nights sleeping at the station, and he hates leaving Nam-ra alone, but she never complains, just reassures him that she'll be fine without him for a few days.

But then days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. And before he realizes it, it's been half a year, and he's spent more time at the station than in his own bed.

He can barely remember the last time they had a real conversation, ate a meal together, or took one of their evening walks. That night, when he returns after a late shift, he makes a point to apologize and ask her how she is. And just like before, she reassures him that she's fine, that he doesn't need to worry, that he must be tired and he should get some sleep.

But he sees the way her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. He sees the empty sketchpad shoved in the corner and the patio door and windows that have all accumulated dust on their handles.

His stomach drops.

Without meaning to, Su-hyeok has done the one thing he never wanted to do.

He has turned her into a prisoner.

...

Since the day she moved in, Nam-ra has seen their house as a safe haven – a place where she can let her guard down, take a breath, and make art.

There is no shortage of inspiration here, from the nature that surrounds them, from the simplicity in their everyday lives, and even from Su-hyeok himself. She loves drawing him. She loves watching him, memorizing his features as she puts pencil to paper and brings him to life on the page.

She'd had a passing interest in art as a child but had never dared to entertain the idea of pursuing it as a career, and even now, it seems foolishly naive to think her work may ever be seen by anyone but the two of them. Still, at his urging, she creates an Instagram account, posts a few photos of her favorite pieces, and within months, she's amassed an impressive following. Su-hyeok is thrilled at her success and delights in calling her a famous artist, and she lets herself admit that it feels good, having this thing for herself, this skill she can be proud of.

There's something poetic about it too, the fact that he makes the world a better place while she captures the beauty that already exists within it.

But beauty fades, and so too does inspiration, and the more time she spends in this small, secluded corner of the world, the less of both she can find. The scenery outside loses its luster, the small details of their lives suddenly seem so ordinary and meaningless, and even Su-hyeok's face, which she treasures so much, has become hollow and weary from stress.

She barely sees him these days, and she doesn't mind being left alone, but she does mind the state he's in. If he's not sleeping at the station, he's stumbling through the front door past midnight and then rushing back out again before dawn the next day, and even on the rare occasion when he has a day off, he barely leaves the house, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible before he has to go back to work.

It breaks her heart, seeing the exhaustion on his face, but even worse is the knowledge that she is partly to blame.

His world has diminished so much since he met her, now a map of a single city with only two destinations – the police station and their house. This house, once their shelter from the storm, has become a prison, a cage, and without meaning to, she has locked both of them inside.

It had been so easy in the beginning to give up her freedom for the safety of four walls, a roof over her head, and his arms around her at night. But that decision had never impacted her alone, and now, he is the one paying for her choices.

The price is far too high.

...

They part ways after two and a half years together.

It's more time than either of them ever expected to have.

It's still not enough.

...

It's better this way, Su-hyeok tells himself.

He has been so foolish to think that he alone could make up for everything she has lost, so arrogant to think that his love for her could be worth more than her freedom.

She did not suffer so much pain to be stuck in a small four-room house for the rest of her days. She did not survive so much only to live half a life with him.

She deserves more than he can offer her right now, a bigger life, a brighter one, and he hopes she finds it one day, even if he's not there to see it.

It's better this way, he tells himself.

Maybe one day, he'll even believe it.

...

It's better this way, Nam-ra tells herself.

He is not meant for the solitude, not this man who is so bright and shining, who attracts friends and admirers wherever he goes, who is always ready to offer a helping hand.

He is meant for a life lived out in the spotlight, or at least out in the open, and she can give him neither of those things. She can give him only her heart, and not even she would make that trade.

She has spent so much of her life living selfishly in her own world, but this time, she will put him first, even if she has to break her own heart to do it.

It's better this way, she tells herself.

That doesn't make it any easier.

...

A question: what do you call two lovers who want to be together but can't?

The answer: a tragedy.

...

vi.

Somehow, life goes on.

She misses him, and it hurts her, but she welcomes it too, the pain, the longing.

It reminds her that she's still human.

...

Nam-ra has a new identity now, a small apartment of her own in Incheon, and a variety of odd jobs she works to pay the bills.

She continues to make art – soft watercolor landscapes, vivid acrylic still-lifes, and abstract mixed-media designs. Her social media following continues to grow, and she starts getting offers from buyers and gallery owners alike. Most of her pieces she sells, hiring gig workers to make the deliveries, and she does shows and exhibits occasionally, though she never attends in person. She ignores all interview requests and event invitations and though it's been five years since the outbreak, she continues to be cautious, more out of habit at this point than necessity.

She still sketches, too – charcoal or pencil drawings, portraits of faces lit with a smile or softened with sleep. It's always the same face, the one that fills her pages and her memories, the one she only ever sees now in dreams.

She never posts these drawings, never sells them, never shows them in a gallery.

These, she keeps for herself, like a secret.

Like a treasure.

...

After three years, she moves to Seoul.

She's a full-time artist now, the inspiration she had once lost now returned to her tenfold. Her days are filled with paint on canvas, and she has an assistant she's only met over email who helps manage the logistics of her business.

A few times a year, she makes her work available for sale, and then a few days after that, she gets a list of all the buyers, their names and addresses.

Many of them are Korean, but some are foreign, from America, from Canada, from France. It comforts her, knowing that her art has traveled the world even if she hasn't.

She still misses him, and even after all these years, his absence still hurts, but it's less of a knife to the heart and more like a pebble in her shoe. With a little more time, it may become just another one of the many aches in her daily life, like the constant hunger, the headaches whenever there's thunder, and the pang of losing her family, her friends, even her own name.

She has learned to live with so much already.

She will learn to live with this too.

...

Life goes on, after all.

Life goes on.

...

vii.

On the tenth anniversary of the outbreak, the government marks the occasion with a special ceremony to honor the heroes and survivors and pay tribute to the fallen.

It's the perfect day, sunny with a slight breeze, and hundreds of mourners make the journey to the site of the bombing, now a beautiful memorial park. Among them are five former students of Hyosan High School, and for all of them, it's the first time in nearly a decade since they've been back to their hometown.

The sixth, the only one who never left, knows the way to the memorial by heart.

The seventh watches the broadcast alone and cries the entire time.

...

After the ceremony, Su-hyeok meets his old friends at a nearby restaurant, and over chicken wings and beer, they catch each other up on their lives.

It's a high school reunion of sorts, though they never actually graduated together, and Su-hyeok feels an immense relief to finally be back with his people, his fellow survivors, the only ones who understand what it's like to have this invisible wound that still hasn't healed, not even now, a decade later.

They swap stories for hours, and it's not quite a rooftop bonfire, but it's close, better even, because they're safe now, because they survived, because they still have each other.

At the end of the evening, the group parts ways, splitting into two taxis headed towards the train station and the airport. They ask Su-hyeok if he wants a ride home, but he just shakes his head and says there's somewhere else he still needs to be.

His friends watch him walk away, and once he's out of sight, they shake their heads sadly. They can all guess where he's going, even if he doesn't say it. They had seen the way his eyes lingered on the memorial wall during the ceremony, the way he'd pressed his hand to one name in particular.

They're not surprised, just disappointed that his story didn't have a happy ending.

...

But the story isn't over just yet.

...

Nam-ra takes the last train out of Seoul and makes it to Hyosan after midnight.

She hadn't planned on coming, but it feels wrong to let this day go by without paying her respects in person.

The memorial park is empty when she arrives, and the only things left from the earlier ceremony are the flowers and wreaths still lining the path.

This is the first time she's been here, the first time she's seen it at all. She remembers reading an article a few years ago announcing the construction of the park, but she hadn't wanted to know any of the details and had avoided all news about it after that. She was afraid that seeing it, even in pictures, would make her lose her resolve and would send her back to his door asking for another chance.

Now that she's here, she sees that she was right to fear because it is beautiful, full of lush greenery and water features that give it the feeling of an oasis, and she immediately wants to stay, to lose herself in memories and regrets and possibilities.

She has to pinch herself to let go of the fantasy, and as she makes her way to the memorial wall, she tells herself that this will be the last time.

As she gets closer to the stone structure, she notices a soft glow at ground level, and though reason and logic yell at her to stop walking, hope and yearning propel her forward, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other, until she is there in front of the bonfire, before a lone silhouette crouched by the flame.

Her breath catches at the sight of him, his face illuminated by firelight, and she stops breathing entirely when he lifts his gaze to meet hers.

Su-hyeok, she whispers, startling at the sound of her voice in the air. She hadn't meant to say it out loud and his name hangs there between them, soft and delicate like a single strand of thread.

As she watches, he closes his eyes, and a look passes briefly across his face, one she's never seen before.

Su-hyeok, she repeats, and there it is again, that strange expression, there and gone in a flash. But then he straightens, opening his eyes and taking three steps until there is a mere breath between them, and she is focused only on the sound of both their hearts beating in unison once more. She has so many things she wants to say to him – I'm sorry, I missed you, forgive me, I love you – but first, there is a question she must ask him, something she has been wondering ever since she arrived.

Have you been waiting long? she murmurs, placing her palm against his cheek.

He smiles at her then, and it is bittersweet and hopeful all at once.

No, he answers. Not long at all.

...

The truth is, he waited five hours.

The truth is, he waited seven years.

And it has all been worth it, just to hear her say his name again.

She whispers it like a prayer, and though Su-hyeok is not religious, for the first time in his life, he feels holy.

...

The next train back to Seoul doesn't depart until dawn, so they go back to his apartment to wait.

It's a short walk, and though they don't talk much along the way, the silence between them is comforting. She takes in the sights and the sounds, relieved that the city has recovered and now hums with life once more, and occasionally, he points out a restaurant he likes, a bookstore he frequents, a coffee shop that always gives him a police discount. It's nice, learning about his favorite places, and she's glad to hear that he has them.

When they make it to his apartment, he busies himself making tea, and she doesn't ask him when or why he moved, but he tells he anyway, admitting that it was too hard to live in that house without her, that he sold it shortly after she left.

They lapse into silence again, a teapot and two mugs sitting untouched between them.

Nam-ra, he says after a moment, and her eyes immediately prick with tears. It has been so long since she's heard her own name, her real name. She'd almost forgotten the sound of it.

Nam-ra, he repeats, gentler this time when he notices the look on her face. Why did you come back?

She has been asking herself the same question these past few hours, and there are so many answers she could give – to honor the tenth anniversary, to satisfy her own curiosity, to remember and pay tribute to the lost – but none of them would be true, not really.

The real reason is much simpler than all that, but it's much harder for her to say.

Because I missed you, she confesses, and she knows it will change everything, these four words, but she says them anyway.

She says them because it's the truth, because he deserves to hear it, and more than anything, she says them because she has been numb without him all these years, and she is ready to come in from the cold.

...

In the morning, he takes her to the train station.

On the surface, nothing has changed between them. She still lives in Seoul and his life is still here in Hyosan. They still say goodbye. He still watches her go.

But as he makes his way back to his apartment, it's with the knowledge that her number is in his phone and it's with the memory of her fingers clasped tightly around his own.

They didn't make any promises last night, and there are still so many things they need to consider before committing to a future together. He doesn't even know when he'll be seeing her again.

What he does know is this:

He will wait for her.

For another five hours or another seven years.

He will wait for her.

For as long as it takes.

...

Their second time around is much easier than the first.

It's as simple as turning the page and starting a new chapter.

...

coda

It has been twenty years since the outbreak, and the time they've spent together now outnumbers the time they spent apart.

They live in a neighborhood with a thriving art scene, in a house that's within walking distance of the station where he works. The memorial park is only a few subway stops away, close enough to visit before dinner but no so close that they can see it from their yard.

After everything, they've still chosen to stay in Hyosan.

But of course they did.

It's the city where they both grew up, the city where they first met and fell in love, the city that finally brought them back together.

For all the tragedy they suffered here, they also have a life, one that's filled with love and laughter and light.

It's the black and white of a fresh stick of charcoal against blank canvas, the press of piano keys on a sunny afternoon, a monochrome wedding photo hanging in the living room.

It's the red of a fiery sunset during an evening walk, a bouquet of rosy tulips brought in from the front yard, a handful of garden-grown tomatoes fresh from the vine.

It's a life where they survived, where they are together, where they are happy, and it is enough.

It is home.

...

Fin

...

Notes:

The red string/thread of fate (referenced in preface and vii.) – the belief in many East Asian cultures that soulmates are joined together by an invisible red string tied around their fingers.

Bujeok (referenced in i.) – a traditional talisman meant to ward off evil spirits.

49 days (referenced in ii.) – the Buddhist belief that a soul is reborn 49 days after death.

Thank you for reading.

[roger-that-cap]

what a lovely dream it is

english major!wanda x english major!fem!reader

summary: who would have thought that wanda, the self proclaimed queen of reading science fiction, would be just as obsessed with shakespeare as you? 

warnings: one use of the word “su*cide”. shakespeare. nerds quoting lines. bad writing. (i challenged myself into writing this in an hour and a half). cringey writing (there is a difference)

word count: 4k!

You and Wanda connected at first because you two spoke the same language from different regions. It felt like she spoke British English, and you spoke American English. You were on the same wavelength but not exactly the same individual wave, but it was as close as you had ever gotten with someone who you deemed worth your time. 

While everyone else was partying or drinking until they threw up or flaunting around bags with white powder in them, you sat with your back to the wall after studying, reading a classic, knowing that the change of her leaning against the same wall and doing the exact same thing you were was high. 

You met her in the library, on your third day at your university. You were trying to find your group of authors, your little nook where you would feel the safest in the entire school. You had stumbled right into the fantasy section, looked around for a second, and then tripped over a brown boot that was just at the start of the science fiction shelf. 

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice murmured, and you just shook your head and said that it was okay, much more interested in the way that your hands suffered from the fall on the carpet than the girl. Until you looked up. 

It was everything about her that stunned you. The brown hair, the flush of her cheeks, the apologetic look in her pale blue eyes that caressed her features to sit in one beautiful and genuine expression. The moment your eyes landed on her, you swore that your heart stopped and started in the same second, and then took a run for it with all of the parts of your brain that you needed to make a coherent thought. 

 You promised yourself in that moment that you would never forget the way the woman in front of you looked. And despite seeing hundreds of more faces throughout your self-tour, you never truly did forget it. If you didn’t know any better, if you were perhaps any younger and less exposed to the cruelty of the world and fate and its way of not giving you what you wanted, you would have been certain that the universe had finally given you the contemporary meet cute that you yearned for. 

But then, you saw which aisle she was in. You looked at the books and recognized the authors just to be sure, and then you turned to look at her. “You’re into science fiction?” 

 Her apologetic look fell completely into a look of pure surprise, and then excitement, almost as if she thought that she found someone else who liked the genre she did. “Well, it’s the best genre that was ever written.” 

  “Wow, how wrong,” you found yourself saying, and somehow, you knew that the look of offense on her face was all for fun. “It’s definitely gothic literature.” The look she gave you was one that you would never forget. 

  A week later, you ran into her in the cafeteria, holding a copy of The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, your beat up one from home that you would put your life on the line for. The cover was torn up a bit and the pages were dog eared, from a time where you hadn’t discovered the way that bookmarks changed lives. It was the copy your cousin got you, and it was your favorite gift to date. 

  She was holding The Martian Chronicles. You nearly gagged. 

At first, you thought she hadn’t seen you, or hadn’t recognized you, which was even worse. You sighed under your breath and said, “at least it’s not Nineteen Eighty Four,” and watched in complete horror as she turned around. 

She locked eyes with you immediately, and her own eyes widened when she saw you, and then she grinned when she undoubtedly recognized you and your disdain for science fiction. “No, it’s even better than Nineteen Eighty Four.” 

“Anything is better than that,” you said, swallowing down your nerves at speaking to the girl again, kicking yourself for being so nervous despite not even knowing her name. 

She gave you that same “offended” look she gave you during your first interaction, and you cracked a small smile. “Um, don’t you voluntarily go into the gothic section?” 

The smile dropped. “The most valid section in the library? Sure do.” 

She smiled too, a genuine grin as she took a step forward and extended her hand. For a second, you just looked at it, the calmness that came with the discussion of literature suddenly washed away so far back into your mind that you panicked for a moment, not reaching for her hand until you saw it shake in just the slightest, like she was regretting even doing it. 

You nearly bumped your elbow on the table trying to stand up and shake her hand. Your hands connected and you grinned so wide it felt like your face had split open. You told her your name and she repeated it to make sure she had heard you loud and clear, and then, she smiled even brighter. 

“Nice to meet you, Dracula. I’m Wanda.” And that was where it started. 

As your library meetups started to become more intentional than not, you learned that not only was Wanda a student that stayed in the dorms, but the student who was next door to you. You learned that she pretty much kept to herself for the most part besides a few other people at the university, and that she kept a small circle. You learned that her favorite book was Brave New World. You learned that she would rather shy away from classic romance novels, even though you didn’t mind them, and that she hated gothic literature. You loved it. Your favorite book was The Picture of Dorian Gray, for god's sake. So, you hated each other’s favorite genres. 

  But you both loved symbolism. And you were both English majors. And for some very odd, very coincidental reason, you both met in what was nowhere near the middle- Shakespearean plays. 

  Now, that was something that you were always made fun of for as a child. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who quoted Shakespeare, especially if it wasn’t even from Romeo and Juliet. Reading normal books just made you look “smart”, but you knew that genuinely enjoying plays would make you look pretentious. So you had always kept it to yourself when you left your hometown. Until Wanda came along. 

Wanda came along, and suddenly, you found yourself quoting tragedies and getting the correct response back. Sometimes, she would even start it first. You would do nerdy things like halfway reenact scenes because even you guys weren’t that nerdy… you supposed. 

One morning, you and Wanda were in a study group (that was hardly productive because it was just Wanda’s little circle that was actually astoundingly close), and she looked over your shoulder to see your computer, where you were hardly typing an essay about the importance of the establishment of places for higher education. She put her chin against your shoulder, sat there for a minute, and then turned her head to whisper in your ear, “nothing will come of nothing.” It was embarrassing, the way your eyes lit up at hearing her voice, and even more so when Natasha, Wanda’s extremely perceptive friend, picked up on what you were feeling. The red head shot you the widest grin ever known to man. 

“C’mere, Frankenstein,” Wanda said one night, already looking over at you while you tried to finish your work for the day.

You held back the smile on your face as you sat on your bed, one leg over it while you typed. “I’m right here.” 

“No, here,” she emphasized, and then she was patting the spot on the small couch in your room, the same look in her eyes that always came with when she asked for any kind of physical contact. 

  That was by far the worst thing about Wanda, and it hardly had anything to do with her. She was touch starved, and touch was your love language. Her asking you to hold her on the couch used to mean nothing to you, because at one point, you just thought she was pretty. But now, holding her hand on top of the table while you both were submerged in your respective worlds felt like a promise ring. Letting her rest her head on your shoulder and in your neck felt like giving your vulnerability over to her, and feeling her hand rub against your back felt like she was taking it and guarding it. But you knew she didn’t feel the same way, not at all. 

She was straight. 

But it did you no good when she quoted back some of your favorite lines. It didn’t help when she said all of the romantic lines towards you at the drop of a hat, almost like she didn’t even realize what she was saying. She didn’t understand the way your heart died and was revived every time she said something like that, something that was so dear and vulnerable to you. And she certainly never would, because you would never tell her. 

Now that you thought about it, allowing yourself to fall for her was the dumbest and most destructive thing you could have ever done. The first bookworm who didn’t make fun of you for your knowledge and love of old plays was the one that took hold of your heart, and now you were paying for being such an idiot. Now you would have to sit through three more years of school with her being your friend, just your friend, while you pined over her. It was going to be hell.  

And was it. You had to sit through her saying the most romantic of Shakespearean quotes every day and act like she wasn’t making your heart shake. You had to listen to her speaking the language that you two shared and pretend that you just wanted to be her friend. You were so attached to her and everything that you two had established together, and you couldn’t ruin it by giving her googly eyes. She was way too important for that. Because now, she was way more than a person who you could talk to about old plays. She was the person that you could talk to about anything, without a doubt. Anything but the intense crush that you were harboring for her, and the way that she made your heart sing and your soul ascend whenever you smelled her perfume or saw her smile. Anything but that. 

§§

 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” You looked up from your book only to see Wanda looking over at you, lying down on the blanket and just watching you. You swore later on when you were alone that you imagined it, but for a moment you could have sworn that you saw a flash of adoration in her eyes. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” 

You were choking on the inside. Your face was blank, but your mind was going haywire, and you couldn't think of anhytnign besides holding back the urge to say something that you had no chance of taking back. “You’re in a sonnet mood today, aren’t you?” 

“And what mood are you in today, Jekyll?” 

“I’m in the mood to finish this book,” you teased, and she rolled her eyes. 

“What if I’m in the mood to sit and watch a movie?” 

“Then you should do it,” you said, going the way your heart clenched at the thought of her cutting your friendly outing short. “I’ll follow you in an hour or two.”

She gave you a look. “You know I don’t go anywhere without you.”  

“You can go watch a movie, Wands.” You sighed out, closing your book and wedging your pointer finger between the pages so that you wouldn't get lost. 

 “I’ll wait,” she said, and you shook your head at her. 

“I don’t want to hold you back from getting in time with your favorite sci fi movies.”

“Can I go forward when my heart is here?”  

You were hit with such a wave of longing that you had to shut your eyes for a moment, but it looked like it was simply a long blink. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I want to hear one,” Wanda said, leaning on her elbows as she stared up at you, and your heart pounded. She looked celestial, glowing under the sunlight with growing grass around her and a sweet smile budding on her face. “You never quote any back to me anymore, you know?” 

You knew, for sure. It was on purpose that you didn’t quote back. If you were to continue the conversation in romantic quotes, it was going to feel way too real to you. You could handle Wanda and her touches, but you were not going to be able to handle quoting Romeo and Juliet to her. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, and then you heard her make a sound with her tongue, a displeased clicking noise.

�� You looked up at her and lost your breath again, and your mental footing. There she was, looking up at you with her pretty eyes, giving you a look more intense than she had ever given you before. She was… it was almost like she was waiting for something, like she knew something. She was staring up at you and leaning on her hand in a way that was so oddly domestic in your mind, and you could almost see in your mind the way that she would do that if you woke up in the same bed, like she was waiting for you to wake up and trying to memorize your face. It made you warm on the inside, and just like she always managed to do, your brain turned to mush. 

“Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” you blurt, and you saw her brows pull in for a second. You blinked. 

  “Huh?” 

You were panicking on the inside. There were plenty of ways that she could have taken the quote that you had chosen, but you knew exactly what it sounded like. A half assed love confession. “You know, from Hamlet,” 

“Of course I know it’s from Hamlet, Jekyll.” She shook her head at you and sat up, crossing her legs without breaking eye contact. “But why that quote? You know so many, and you chose the one about death.” 

Unfortunately, it’s death by silence in this context, not by swords. “You said you wanted to hear a line,” you said, shrugging as you opened your book, trying to get rid of the embarrassment that you knew would stick to you for hours and hours. 

 “What a line,” she said, and then she rolled over to look up at the sky. Minutes later, you heard her sigh. “What a line.” 

§§

Romeo + Juliet was a classic for your movie night. At first, Wanda showed it to you after you boycotted it for years, despite your male celebrity crush being one of the main characters in it. You had always avoided watching because of the modernism, but one Wanda made you sit down and watch it, you actually found good things about it. For instance, the party scene. 

  “It was done wonderfully,” Wanda would always say from beside you after your extremely predictable comment of the scene being a masterpiece. 

Like always, there were a few moments of silence as you two watched the movie together, shoulder to shoulder on the small couch in your dorm while your roommate was off getting high. You watched the rest of it in near silence, halfway focused on the movie while the other part of your mind was split in two; feeling blessed that Wanda was even there with you, soclose, and feeling cursed that she was so close but so far. It was the perfect moment to hold her close like you wanted to so badly, but the timing wasn’t right. And that killed you. 

“Do you ever think about how they fell in love so fast?” Wanda asked, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’d say that they were encroaching on soulmate territory.” 

“Soulmates, or foolish teenagers?” 

“I hardly know of any teenagers who would die for each other, even if they thought they were in love,” Wanda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t give me that face. I’m right, and you know it.” 

“I’ll always let you believe it, sci fi.” 

“But, really, don’t you ever want something like that?” 

You turned your face from the screen and looked at her incredulously, like she had gone mad while completing the process of growing three heads. “A suicide pact?” 

She groaned and threw her head back. “No. A love like that. Take away the death and violence, and look at what they had.” 

“It bloomed too quickly to have much potential later in life,” you countered. “That was infatuation, and that never lasts long.”

“You think that they both died for infatuation?”

“I think that they were young, and it’s hard to tell the difference between love and infatuation at any age, let alone as a teenager. I think they thought they loved each other to the ends of the earth, but I guess they’ll never know.” 

“You’re so cynical. Just like a person whose favorite is gothic literature.” You laughed, leaning forward towards her without even noticing what you were doing. “Do you believe in love?” 

“Of course I do,” you answered, giving her a look. “I’m just saying, Romeo and Juliet were not in true love. They were confused.” 

Then, the playful air that the conversation was flowing on changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash and your heart started racing. The way Wanda was looking at you sent a chill down your spine, and in that moment, you were worried. “Are you confused?” 

You took in a breath. “About what?” 

“About anything,” she said slowly, almost like she felt like she was walking on thin ice with skates on. “Books, people, love, food, sexuality,” she ignored the way that you choked, “writing a paper, how to get  a strike in bowling. Or how to realize that Romeo and Juliet were definitely in love.” 

“You’re so intent on proving that they were to me,” you said, a laugh bubbling over and into your words. “Why are you suddenly so passionate about them now?” 

“The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.” 

Your heart jumped out of your chest again, and your hands clenched into weak  fists as you tried to will yourself into not assuming that she was talking about you. And then, white hot panic struck you at the thought of her being in love with someone else. “Speak low if you speak of love.” 

“Why should I?” Wands asked, shifting from her position on the couch to put a hand under her chin and watch you, her kind eyes afire with something that you had yet to see in them yet. “Really, Jekyll. Why?”

You hardly waited a full second before responding as truthfully as you ever would. “I’m afraid.” Before she could get a word in, you shook your head and finally loosened your lips, letting all of your worries and fears slide right through your teeth. “I’m afraid that I’ve fallen in love with someone who can never love me back. I’m scared to admit that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.  I’m afraid that you aren’t into girls.” You saw her make a face, almost like she couldn't believe that you were even suggesting the things that you were. “I don’t quote Shakespeare to you anymore because it feels too real to have you say lines like that back to me. I think that I’ve latched onto you without even meaning to, and now I don’t know if I can ever let you go.” 

Wanda was silent. She was watching you, as quietly as the sun hovered over the earth while she shone her light. Your heart had never beat so fast before as you watched her watch you with a face so blank that you were sure that she hadn’t retained a damn thing that you pulled from the depths of your heart. Then, the daunting thought that she had heard and understood everything but chose not to act swallowed you whole, and your hands started to shake. You gave a humorless laugh and finally looked away from the woman who had raised your spirits and crushed them all within five minutes. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” 

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head and closing your eyes for a second as hot tears burned in them. When they opened, a fat tear sappetered onto your hand. I’m such an idiot. You looked to the screen, and then saw Romeo screaming, on the ground, and you could hear the words even though your ears were rushing with blood. I defy you, stars. “You don't have to say anything back, I know you don’t feel the same.” Your eyes pulled away from the screen. “I can leave- wait, um, this is my dorm. I-” 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” Wanda started slowly, and your brows furrowed as you heard the words fall from her lips. Fuck. You knew what this ended with, and still, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

Your eyes were wide by the end of it, watery and fixed on her. “W-what?” 

“How could you not have known?” Wanda asked softly, and you but your lip to stop from bursting into tears. 

“I thought you were straight!” You accused, and to your surprise, she laughed. 

“No, sweetheart.” Your heart stuttered. “I’m not.” 

Your breathing was still slightly heavy as you tried to get a  grip on everything that was happening. “You… you feel the same way?” 

“Of course I do, Jekyll.” She said, and you found yourself falling for her expressive eyes all over again as she stared up at you.  You reached your hand out experimentally, like she did the second time you ever met, and you waited that torturous moment for her to take your hand in a way that was much different than all the other times you shared a touch. This touch was the moment of truth.

She took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and put your palm on her cheek. 

“The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.” 

“This can’t be anything but a dream,” you murmured, feeling her cheek in your hand and the way they were warm and flushed. The softness was bringing you in and out of your head, and every time you went back to reality, you were thrusted into a little sliver of paradise. 

“Well, what a lovely dream it is, then.” Her lips found yours. The movie played on, the clock kept its incessant ticking, and your leg was starting to tingle from sitting on it in the same position for so long. But to you, time absolutely stopped. And as long as a particular science fiction nerd was in front of you, nothing that ticked or clicked or buzzed was ever going to matter. 

*******

i said i wasn’t going to post this, but i did it anyway!! hope you guys enjoyed this fic!! it was a lot of fun to write but it also made me mad nervous LMAO let’s hope this wasn’t absolute dogshit

@teenwonder i know you said you wanted a tag on my stuff so here it is, love!! 💕💕

[biggest-stupidhead]

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

__

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

__

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

__

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.  

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having. 

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly. 

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office. 

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet. 

__

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion. 

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home. 

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease. 

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side. 

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of. 

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features. 

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply. 

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you. 

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head. 

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing. 

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking. 

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his. 

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else. 

[charlie-rulerofhell]

An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”

Heyo, I'm back with another translation. This time the article is from the German Rolling Stone website who met with Måneskin after their TikTok performance at the Schwuz, Berlin, and posted the interview yesterday. Again there were some interesting questions asked (and the pictures they added to the article are quite nice, though severely lacking some Ethan content, but check it out!).

Again, I hope that no one has already gone through the effort and translated it or is currently working on a translation. Also this is an official invitation, if you stumble across any articles or video interviews in German that you would like to have translated just message me and I'll get to it! (or if you just wanna chat about Måneskin, my inbox is always open :))

Have a great day everyone!

Full article under the cut.

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

An interview with Måneskin: “It's not about out bodies, it's about our music”

Jose-Luis Amsler

July 6, 2021

Måneskin are just what this generation has been missing. Passionate, corny, and full-on honest. In an interview with Rolling Stones, the ESC winners explain to us why they would never work in a normal job and why the hype for their appearance is sometimes going too far.

Damiano, Victoria, Thomas and Ethan are entering the nearly deserted dance hall, before they wait on stage in a red-blue spotlight. They are wearing glittering fish net tops, black tape across their nipples, leather pants, heels and make up. The camera men who are filming in portrait format (9:16) suitable for TikTok are whirling up the haze of the fog machine.

Måneskin are [in] Berlin to give a TikTok concert. A TikTok livestream of this scale has not been done often – tension is in the air. The four Italians don't know at this point that due to the stream the few people present are not allowed to clap or cheer. In complete silence and with slight uncertainty the four are crossing Neukölln's club Schwuz. A few puzzled glances are exchanged. Finally,  Måneskin are striking the first chord.

Then the rich sound of Ethan's bass drum is tearing through the silence. It's almost as if someone has flicked a switch somewhere. There it is, the rock star presence that is hovering over everything they do, with an ounce of arrogance (in the best sense of the word). Singer Damiano is dancing lasciviously on his heels, and during an especially ecstatic solo guitarist Thomas is throwing himself down on the floor in a way it can only be done by a passionate 20-year-old musician who had never had to worry about the looming doom of an artificial knee joint [for 'passionate' the interview is using the term 'besessen' which means 'possessed', and although I think it's rather supposed to describe the way Thomas is 'possessed / obsessed' with the music, thus passionate for the music, you never know if they didn't mean to say that the way he dances looks 'possessed' … I mean, they might be on to something here ;)]. Around half an hour and about 120 decibel later, Damiano says their goodbyes with an almost shy-sounding “Okay, bye.” After the performance, we do our interview in the Schwuz.

Rolling Stone: It was a little bit weird, right, when you went on stage today?

Damiano: Yeah, that was really strange (laughs). They only told us after the performance that the audience was instructed to stay silent for the stream.

Vic: But at least they weren't silent because we were shit (all laughing). We are slowly getting used to playing without a live audience. I mean we are doing this now for more than a year.

RS: What do you think about these new kinds of concerts such as the TikTok livestream today?

Damiano: Well, at the moment it is the only option to perform anyway, so it's alright. But of course you cannot compare this to a proper concert.

Thomas: But it's pretty cool that so many people can experience our concert live.

Vic: Also we're gonna start touring again soon. Right now we are arranging some festival and gigs. In December we will be touring Italy and afterwards we are planning to go on tour through Europe. But we don't have anything fixed yet, there is just a lot going on at the moment.

“A lot going on”. Quite an understatement considering the recent journey Måneskin has made through the past weeks after their ESC win. Their singles “Beggin'” and “I Wanna Be Your Slave” went through the roof (also thanks to Social Media) and are currently dominating the international charts – lately they were also number one in Germany. There is barely a radio station that isn't playing the band on heavy rotation [would love to know what stations they listen to, have never heard Måneskin played in German radio tbh :( ], and everyone opening Instagram or TikTok these days is flooded by Måneskin content. Every second a new fanpage with the name of 'maneskin_obsession' or 'damianos_slut' is springing up like a (virtual) mushroom. It sounds like a cliche, but Damiano, Vic, Thomas and Ethan became international stars over night.

“Of course it's nice to get compliments. But sometimes they definitely cross a line.” – Damiano David

RS: How has your life as a band changed since your win at the ESC in Rotterdam?

Vic: I think we don't even notice a lot of what's happening. Right after the ESC we went to a studio in the countryside where we made music the whole day long. So at first we didn't realise that so many things were happening all around us – and that we had so many new fans. We're just now beginning to learn what's going on. We were at Sony yesterday, there were so many fans waiting for us. That was crazy.

RS: A large part of the attention you are getting now is about your outer appearance, your style, your attractiveness. Is that getting a little too much sometimes?

Damiano: Of course it's nice to get compliments (laughs). But sometimes they definitely cross a line. Especially when we just talk about our music or about a social or political topic that we care about. In those moments it's just completely inappropriate to reduce us to our appearance. Sure – when I'm posting a half-naked picture of myself on Instagram I know that I will get these kind of comments. And then it's totally fine, I mean in the end I'm posting the picture to show myself. But sometimes it's not the right place for it.

RS: And also you should be allowed to wear what you want without being sexualised, right?

Vic: Yes, absolutely. We are wearing these outfits because we feel good in them, not to put the focus on our bodies. And in general it shouldn't always only be about how you dress. We are musicians – so first and foremost it should be about our music. But I think it will still be a long way until we will reach that point.

“That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those things should never be equated with each other.” – Victoria De Angelis

RS: But still you are sending a message with your style against stereotypical gender roles. I guess it's also not only coincidence that we are in the Schwuz today, which is normally a party location and safe space for the LGBTQ community.

Vic: Yes, that is all part of the positive message that we try to send. We want to give our audience the feeling that they are free. Free to wear whatever they want to wear, be how they want to be and love whom they want to love. It's unbelievable that there is still so much intolerance in our times. That has always been really important to us so we try to talk about these topics. We also believe that the narrow-mindedness of society is an educational problem. When you grow up with people all around you telling you how you should be, you will never feel completely free. The more people are talking about it, the sooner things will change.

RS: Some artists who are advocating for these topics are accused of 'queerbaiting', that they are only pretending to be a certain way to gain more support from the queer community. Have you also been faced with those allegations?

Vic: Yes, a few times. But of course we never pretended to be anything. Some people accuse of us queerbaiting because we look and act the way we do. But that's flawed thinking. We don't believe that clothes are connected to a person's sexuality. That the boys are wearing make up does not tell you what gender they are attracted to. Those two things should never be equated with each other.

RS: This courage for free self expression that you are conveying is mainly lived by our (young) generation through Instagram and the like. What is your relationship to social media?

Damiano: For me it was almost scary at first. The more we grew, the more people were trying to twist all of my words. But over time you start to understand that with more fame you also get more criticism. The happier you look the more hate you will get. It's not only like that for celebrities. If you are brave enough to show the things that make you happy there will always be people that support you, but they are also those that envy you. Of course, this should never lead anyone to not express themselves openly but that's easier said than done.

Vic: We are also trying not to spend too much time on social media. In the end we just try to be honest with our fans and to avoid negativity.

[caption under the picture of Damiano: 'Is already being compared to icons such as David Bowie']

It's actually surprising how little power a win at the ESC holds in most cases. Almost 200 million people are watching this shining spectacle every year – and still, a few months afterwards it is hard to remember who those people were that got covered in confetti during the award ceremony. It's the well-known curse of a casting show that rests on the winning bands. When just next year a new sensation will come to marvel at, how much impact does a win have then? There are exceptions of course, like Lena who is until this day, 10 years after her win in Oslo, a part of the more famous music scene of German pop music. With their charisma, their unusual sound at least for our modern standards, and their contemporary message Måneskin could become such an exception, too.

It's likely also helpful that the band already had a standing in the Italian music scene prior to their ESC participation. Their first album 'Il ballo della vita' already achieved platinum in 2018, three years prior to Sanremo and the ESC. And then there is also the long way that led the four schoolmates to this point that helped them gain the necessary persistence. Because contrary to what some people might want to believe Måneskin are not a phenomenon that has just been deliberately bred to be this way by the entertainment industry for Eurovision.

“I have worked [in a 'normal' job] for a whole month in my entire life – it didn't really end well.” – Damiano David

RS: You were all raised in Rome, the capital of the catholic church. What was it like to start as a young progressive band in such a conservative environment?

Damiano: In the beginning, when we started as buskers, no one gave a damn about us anyways (all laughing). But of course … Once we got a bit bigger there were a few people who had a problem with us. For example when we went to Sanremo, there were quite many people who thought that the way we looked and acted we shouldn't be allowed to represent Italy. They didn't even want to listen to our music first.

Vic: Especially when it comes to appearance and sexuality, Italy is a little more backward than other countries. The church probably also has an influence there. They are often quite conservative of course, so many people grew up with such a [conservative] mindset.

RS: You once said that the song 'In Nome Del Padre' is an answer to exactly those people. What does the song mean to you?

Damiano: Back in the beginning [of our career] we had to deal with a lot of problems. They didn't want to let us play in clubs because we would take too much space as a band or because they didn't like our (fashion) style or because they didn't want to pay us. Italy isn't a good place for bands. Our musical style was also criticised a lot. Many people were telling us: Don't do that [rock music], you won't get popular with that in Italy, you will never achieve anything with it. Of course those comments were hurtful but they were also a good reason for us to continue with what we did. And we turned our sadness into anger. With that song we wanted to tell those people from back then: Fuck off and look at us, we did it!

RS: Did you ever consider working in a nine-to-five job and live a 'normal' life?

Damiano: Nah, not really. For one month in my life I worked [in a 'normal' job] – it didn't end well (all laughing).

Vic: We all made music since we were kids. It's a huge part of us, that we couldn't just ignore. And the most important thing is that you do something that makes you happy. At least that's what we believe. So we started from a young age to put all our time and energy into music.

Thomas: Yeah, exactly. Ever since we were in school together we always made music. That has always been our main focus and it is until today. We play and play and play because it is the only thing that …  

Ethan: … we live for.

Damiano: Music has also something very therapeutic for us. Even when we are in a bad mood or fight with each other – yeah, that happens, too – then all of that is gone the moment we enter the stage. Maybe that's the beautiful thing about music – that it allows you to forget everything else. You're just standing on stage, having fun with your friends.

From most bands you wouldn't buy such a corny love letter to music. Mostly it just sounds like an empty phrase, a well-practiced quotable line. But when there is something that defines Måneskin and that becomes more and more evident during our conversation it's their uncompromising honesty. The four of them are definitely not lacking a sense of humour but they take their music very seriously. Which should not be taken for granted in a generation that has mainly produced sarcastic cloud rappers and has made cynical twitter comedy a national sport. And maybe Måneskin are exactly what this generation was lacking all along.

Still, the four musicians, all in the age of 20 to 22, are also prone to the constant need for self-expression, that has become an intrinsic part of today's life. This does not only reflect in the outfits of the band (always 'on fleek') and their Instagram profiles, but also in their lyrics. Their latest record 'Teatra D'Ira – Vol. 1' shows a clear theme: The album is an ode to individuality, accentuated by fast and hard sounds.

Sometimes this message fitting for a Disney movie [really? guess I have been watching the wrong Disney movies my whole life …] is wrapped in a contrasting loud and forceful packaging, but never so much that it becomes inauthentic or self-caricaturing [note: I'm honestly not entirely sure what they wanted to say with this sentence since it uses a lot of rhetorical devices that could be interpreted in different ways, but I'd say this sounds the most plausible]. And in the end, the thing that makes Måneskin so interesting is their unification of the spirit of this time – between TikTok hedonism and an omnipresent political statement – with the music of past generations.

“When you are twenty, you start to think about what the future will hold.” – Damiano David

RS: Your musical style is often described as classical 70s rock, but in fact there are many different influences in your music. Sometimes you groove almost into funk, sometimes it's more rapping than singing. How did this mixture come to be?

Thomas: It's just that we all have our own individual influences and then we meet somewhere in the middle. And we always try to stay open for experiments.

Ethan: Yes, we are very experimental in our song writing process.

Vic: We also don't want to limit ourselves to what is regarded as typical rock music. If rap fits better at some point then we just add that in. It just happens naturally without us thinking too much about it.

RS: So why was it still rock music in the end?

Vic: Because it's the style that we feel most represented by. But actually we just play the music that we enjoy playing. That's really important to us so that we can show something real on stage. We don't want to pretend to be something that we aren't or mock those people that really enjoy our music. You should always be proud of what you're doing and never fake anything just to sell more records.

RS: Is there something like an Italian rock music scene?

Vic: There are quite a lot of bands – but the most of them are much older than us or they are more going in the direction Indie rock. There isn't really a young rock scene, which we think is a pity. But ever since we got more famous people are telling us that they started listening to rock music because of us or that they bought their first guitar and such. That's incredibly nice!

RS: So you're saying that you also want to show this style of music to a younger generation. And you capture this contrast quite well in the song 'Vent'anni', which is a typical rock ballad but lyrically portrays the thoughts of today's youth. Where did the motivation come from to write that song?

Damiano: With the song I wanted to show that I'm just a normal guy, a really typical 20-year-old. I experience the same things that other people in my age are experiencing, I'm just doing another job than them. Also I wanted to describe this age as a whole because I think it's a really special age. At 20 you start to think about what the future will hold. I think it's one of the most important stages of your life. Since we (the four of us) are all in the same age, I then started to mix our experiences together. In the end the song shows what it means to us to be 20. There is a lot of good things – you are quite carefree and are looking at life enthusiastically. But on the other hand you're too young to do certain things and too old to do others. Some people are treating you like a full-grown adult, but …

Vic: … not entirely.

Damiano: Exactly. It can get pretty frustrating at times. We wanted to show our audience: Hey, we're also just 20 years old, and we're going through the same things as you. We understand you.

RS: Except that you are the ones who are becoming a world-wide phenomenon right now. How do you want to maintain this honesty?

Damiano: I think that we could just reach this point because we have always been authentic – for better or for worse. Also we are just trying to have fun with what we're doing together. That's something special that we don't want to lose. In the end we're just four friends who started to live their dream. It's actually pretty simple. Of course – we go on stage, we get a lot of attention, we give interviews – but when we come back home we're just four friends.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (5)

[Masterlink] (PART 1) (PART 4)

-----

Mari and Cass sometimes switch their suits as they have the same body type. Cass would sometimes go out in full Hellbat gear and give the appearance that Hellbat is out more often than she actually is.

So Orphan/Black Bat also sometimes uses guns.

This also helps with concealing secret identities. Maria was rescued by Hellbat from Joker’s Henchmen. (Vicki Vale was getting sus of the new Wayne and Hellbat.)

Unfortunately since Hellbat rarely comes out and she had already made all of her appearance for the month and it wasn’t a busy weekend, the public had come to the conclusion that Hellbat has a crush on the newest Wayne.

Basically everyone thought that Mari has a crush on herself. Which led to some teasing and escalated to Mari announcing that Jason had a crush on Red Hood on live TV.

It didn’t help that a video of Red Hood and Jason re-enacting Romeo and Juliet with Jason on his apartment balcony and Red Hood on the roof was posted on the internet a few days later. (Thank you, Trixx and Tim’s awesome video editing skills)

Sadly, it was taken down 24 hours later. (Tim and the others have multiple copies of it, on the cloud or hardware, hidden around in the manor and their respective safehouses in the US.)

Some people kidnapped Jason to hopefully gain leverage over the Red Hood and to their dismay and nightmares for years to come, Hellbat came instead.

One lucky and incredibly brave reporter asked why she was there instead of her brother.

Mari being a little shit, “Red Hood may be a tough and scary guy but when it comes to his feelings, my brother is a chicken.”

Pictures of Jason tackling Hellbat somehow never made it into any papers.

The criminal underworld hasn’t taken a hint and Jason has been kidnapped a few more times.

Other times Jason was kidnapped:

Robin: Red Hood made a fool of himself in front of Todd recently and he doesn’t dare to show his face.

Spoiler: He was taking too damn long checking his hair even though I told him that no one was going to see it under his helmet and he was so offended that he is currently sulking in the bathroom.

Red Robin: Red Hood can’t think straight when he is around Jason. I mean have you seen the dude.

Arsenal*during a rare visit to Gotham*: Red Hood owes me one now.

Dick finally ends it by going out as Red Hood and rescuing Jason. Gotham is happy that Redson (Red Hood x Jason) ship has finally sailed.

-------

Kate, Babs, Cass, Steph and Mari were out on Mari’s first girls’ night since her move to the manor.

This is set a little after she came back from Paris with Jason.

They watched rom-com movies, did hair and nails, gossip about the superhero community and bitch and vent to each other.

Marinette off-handedly mentioned the crazy shits she had done during her stint as Ladybug. It started with asking about the T-rex in the Batcave and she mentions jumping into the mouth of a live one before.

Everyone in the room was shocked and after a few more questions, it was obvious that she was very reckless and self-sacrificing. Yep, she was going to fit into this crazy family just fine.

And Holy Shit. There is so much trauma packed into this kid. She needs lots of therapy.

Babs finally decided that they all needed to get out and have some fun. All in their respective suits and they went out.

Joined by Harley, Ivy and Selina.

Plagg came along because I want Plagg to meet Selina.

It was a chaotic night and it was a miracle that Bruce didn’t find out about what the girls did.

-------

Batman and Red Hood were on patrol together when Selina jumped in front of them.

“Hello, Boys”

“What do you want, Catwoman?”

“I want to meet my new prodigy, Kitty Noire.”

Cue Marinette jumping down from her hiding spot, transformed with the Black Cat Miraculous. “Hiya.”

Red Hood carries her like a potato sack and points his gun at the other two.

“Nope, she’s my sister and I called dibs. I adopted her. She’s off limits.”

“Legally, she’s mine.” Batman coughed out.

“I did it first. Emotionally. She’s my emotional support sister. You have plenty kids already, B and Selina, get your own.”

“Hey, I am still here and can hear you.”- Maria

-------

Alya was worried for Lila. She had been acting weirdly for the past month.

She looked very out of sorts. Her clothes weren’t in order and her hair was in disarray. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes looked wild. Lila didn’t look like herself at all.

She jumped at any sound and flinched at really sudden movements.

Alya tried to find out what was wrong with Lila and received vague answers.

One time Lila said that Marinette is to blame.

Alya reaches the somewhat right conclusion that Marinette was haunting Lila and hurting her because Lila used to come to school with bruises and claims that Marinette did it.

Alya goes to Marinette’s grave to desecrate it. (Yeah, go anger the ghost that is haunting someone.)

Unfortunately, the moment she tries to do something, the sky turns dark, clouds appear and the wind begins whipping. A Lightning strike near her and there was a cloaked figure beside her with a scythe.

All Alya saw from the figure was the blood-red lips in a very sharp grin and glowing blue eyes, raising the scythe high before she ran away. The scythe swiped the air where her head once was.

Alya didn’t get far before she tripped and blacked out.

When she woke up, she found herself in the hospital with no idea how she got there.

She was told that somebody found her with a concussion in the park and took her to the hospital.

------

The next one on Mari’s hit list was Natalie.

She wasn’t as involved in the whole thing like Lila, Adrien or Gabriel but she still did it anyways.

Her punishment is a little mild compared to the others and was more of a warning to Gabriel.

Natalie woke up in the middle of the night to see a not-so-dead Ladybug sitting on her vanity chair with the moonlight from the windows illuminating her body and her neck. Her suit was torn exactly like the day of that battle with blood dripping down her arms and from her open wounds. The shadows kept her face hidden but glowing blue eyes stared at her.

Natalie was scared at first. But she regained her normal cool composure.

“I assume you are here to extract your revenge for aiding in your unfortunate demise. But before you kill me, I regret my part in my entire thing and I apologize for everything I have done against you even though I knew it was wrong.”

“At least you show remorse over what you have done. Visiting my grave when even my parents didn’t and leaving flowers. I love those purple hyacinths by the way. Did you know that they mean sorry in the language of the flowers?”

“Why are you stalling my death? Just kill me already.”

“Madam Sancouer. You just played a minor role in my downfall compared to what Adrien and Lila Rossi did to me. And you showed more guilt over your actions than they ever did and Adrien claimed to have loved me. And like I have told the Bats, Death is too swift of a punishment.”

“Who are the bats?”

“None of your concern. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Lila sees the ghosts of her past and they haunt her. Adrien is in a living nightmare and has no control over his actions and is despised by everyone. What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, since you show some guilt over your actions, let me tell you a little secret. I am not dead. Not really. I mean I did die. But there was a spell in the grimoire that revived me. It took a few days to work.”

Marinette changed to her normal form. It was a little jarring to see an older Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting on her vanity chair like it was a throne. The Ladybug suit and the wounds were gone. She looked a little familiar.

“Why are you telling me this? What was the point?” Natalie faltered as she wondered why the girl looked familiar. Marinette moved closer and her face was fully illuminated by the moonlight.

“I intend to take everything by which I mean everything from Gabriel Agreste for what he did.”

“M. Agreste just wanted his wife back. You just gave him your Miraculous, you would still have everything.”

“What difference would it make? Sure I had friends and family before but they turned out to be disappointing. I might have become a famous designer like I dreamed of and can't achieve because I died. Besides, he never said about wanting his wife to come back in his tedious monologues. For all we knew back then, he wanted them for world domination. He showed that he would end the world for them. For kwamis’ sake, he nearly started World War III, just for a pair of earring and a ring. He was willing to kill me to have her back. No wait, he did that too. If he actually read the translated grimoire or asked the Guardian or at least someone with magic for help instead or maybe used his head and made some who can heal as his champion using the Butterfly, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. Face it, Mme Sancour, your boss is a power-hungry and very controlling maniac who is also thankfully an idiot.”

“But- he- he just-. You are just a child, what do you know? M. Agreste knew what he was doing.”

“A child who had a normal life up until he tried to ruin it with his idiotic schemes and hiring Lila to do it. A child who had to fight a war on her own.”

“I am sorry you had to go through that but I doubt you and your little revenge rampage is going to solve anything.”

Ghostly Chains wrapped around Natalie’s body, squeezing tight like it was squeezing the life out of her.

“I was all for sparing you, you know. If you had actually listened to my side of the story, you would have spared from my ‘little revenge rampage’. This is going to be a little painful. Sorry about that.” In a tone that was definitely not sorry.

Pain coursed through Natalie’s body. Her skin crawled and itched as pitch back feathers grew out of it. Her bones turned to dust and reformed.

Where Natalie Sancour once was, there was a raven.

An omen of death and destruction for one Gabriel Agreste.

Marinette leaned down towards the raven. Natalie tried to peck her eye out but Marinette held the beak in a firm grip.

“Ah. ah ah. Luckily for you this is temporary. Mostly. Every night, you will assume this shape and each night the longer you will stay in this form. Slowly counting down the days until Gabriel’s downfall. Since you love helping him so much, you are going to help him know how long he has to live. The night you are a raven from sunset to sunrise, that sunrise starts the day Gabriel Agreste will be utterly destroyed.”

She released the beak and headed towards the window.

"Send him my regards."

With that, she was gone.

(Part 6)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 78: Memories

(tw: mentions blood, mentions a child being attacked by a werewolf- nothing overtly graphic)

"Well," Jeremiah said conversationally to Draco one afternoon when they were covering the Emergency room at St. Mungos, "At least it's kind of quiet."

Draco clamped his hands over his ears, "AHH!" he shouted. "Why would you say that?!"

Jeremiah stared at him, looking quite perplexed, "Because it's true?" he asked.

"Well it won't be for long," Draco said, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling out his wand.

Sure enough, just as Jeremiah started to call him paranoid, the door flew open and in stumbled a woman whose arm had somehow managed to become attached to her head. "Help!" she shouted.

"That's for you," Draco said, nodding at Jeremiah.

A few moments later a man came in vomiting up slugs, Draco put him in a room and handed him a bucket. "You've just got to wait it out," he informed him before returning to see that their once empty waiting room had filled up. He cursed Jeremiah under his breath and started seeing patients.

He was in the middle of an intake for with a woman whose finger nails were growing nearly an inch a minute when the door opened and Harry Potter staggered through carrying a child, both of them covered in blood. "Help," Potter gasped, eyes glued to the boy in his arms who wasn't moving.

Draco was on his feet in an instant, "Move," he commanded the people milling about, using a shield charm to bump them out of his way. "This way," he told Potter, gesturing to the first room with an open door.

Potter hurried in and set the boy on the table and Draco vanished his clothes and began checking vitals.

"Tell me what happened."

(Read more below the cut)

"Fenrir," Potter said softly and a chill ran up Draco's spine, that word alone told him so much of what he needed to know. Potter's voice sounded distant, like he was in shock, which in fairness he probably was.

"Potter," he said firmly, trying to ground him with his voice, "I need you to try to focus, alright? It's important."

"Right," the other man said, shaking his head, "Yeah, sorry." He squared his shoulders, "We got a tip about where we could find him and we got sent on a raid. He was threatening the boy and when one of the other aurors made a move," he shook his head and covered his mouth with his hand. "I got to him and cast a stasis spell and brought him here."

"Right," Draco said, "Fenrir wasn't transformed, though."

"No," he said shaking his head, "Not a full moon."

"Sit down in that chair," he said, nodding to the one in the corner as he began to apply salves to the wounds.

"I'm fine-" Potter started.

"Sit down," Draco snapped. "Now." The last thing he needed was for Potter to pass out while he was working on healing the boy.

Potter obeyed, sitting in the chair with his head in his hands as Draco worked.

After twenty minutes Draco had done everything he could for the boy and he turned. "He's going to be alright," he said first and he saw Potter's shoulders sag in relief. "He's under a stasis charm right now as he continues healing but it's more for his comfort than anything."

Potter nodded, "Thank you, Malfoy," he said. "Err, Healer Malfoy, that it."

He gave a short nod, "Are there parents that we should be contacting?"

Potter shook his head before scrubbing his hands over his face, "He's been stealing orphans," he whispered and Draco's heart shattered at the way his voice broke. "Because the DMLE apparently cares less about them since the orphanages don't nag the way parents do."

He tried to suppress a shudder, he couldn't imagine how difficult this case must have been for the other man. "Come on," Draco said. "We're going to the next room over to get you checked out."

"I'm fine," he protested.

He looked him over, "Potter, your robes are soaked in blood and I am willing to bet my last galleon that at least some of it is yours."

"What if he-"

"I've got loads of spells on him that will alert us to any changes. I am very good at my job."

Potter opened, then closed his mouth, "I didn't mean to imply-"

"I'm not offended," Draco said, brushing his apology off, "I just want to be sure you're okay, too."

After a moment, Potter nodded and made his way out the door, stripping out of his robes as he entered. As Draco suspected, he was covered in gashes and bruises.

He fetched a calming drought from the cabinet as Potter hopped up onto the table, "Drink this first."

Obediently he opened the vial and swallowed the potion.

Draco started his examination, "Some of these deeper gashes are going to need to be sterilized with a wound cleaning potion," he said as he snapped on his gloves and summoned the potion. "It's going to sting a bit."

The other man merely nodded and sat quietly as he allowed Draco to tend to his wounds.

When he finished Draco said, "I'm disposing of your robes but I'll get you a set of medical scrubs that you can wear home, alright?"

"Thanks," Potter whispered.

"You," Draco started before breaking off. Potter didn't move a muscle and Draco forced himself to be brave, "You did a good job, Potter."

Potter's eyes snapped up to his at his words, "I'm not sure that you're right."

"Well luckily for you," he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing, "I make it a practice to be right." He reached out and clasped Potter's arm, "You saved his life." He took a step back, "I'm going to go get those scrubs. I'll be back."

---------

Once Potter had gotten dressed, he asked to be allowed to wait for the boy to wake up. Draco agreed and then he basically put Potter out of his mind.

It might have been impressive that he'd managed to do such a thing under ordinary circumstances but under the current onslaught of idiots flooding through their doors it was all Draco could do to remain standing.

When the night coverage showed up, Draco found the time to follow up on the boy; he been moved up to a room in the main building like Draco had instructed.

He decided that one more follow up before he left for the night couldn't hurt. When he got to the room he was surprised to see that Potter was still here. "What are you doing here?" Draco asked.

Potter's head snapped around to look at him, "You said I could stay," he replied fiercely.

"It's been hours," Draco said. "Aren't you tired?"

The other man opened his mouth but Draco continued, "I know you are, don't lie to me."

"I can't just leave him," he whispered.

And standing there, Draco knew that there was nothing he could say to make the other man decide to leave. "Stand up."

"No," he said, stubbornly crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

"Potter, stand up this instant or so help me Salazar, I will move you myself. I'm not making you leave."

With a grunt and a wince Potter stood and Draco transfigured the chair he'd been sitting on into a cot. "Get some sleep," Draco said. "I'll see you in the morning."

--------

And he had. Every day for two weeks. He'd started stopping by first thing before he clocked in, eating his lunch in that room, and stopping in before he went home each night.

Potter never seemed to leave. He set up a small desk that he sent letters from and he glared at the responses he received before penning another. Finally over lunch one day, Draco had to ask, “Who are you writing?”

The spoon on its way to his mouth froze and he returned it to his bowl, “various Ministry officials. We need better care for orphans.”

Draco hummed, “You seem especially qualified to tell them that.”

Harry nodded slowly, “yes. Those are memories that I prefer not to visit but I think that’s been selfish.”

“Perish the thought.” Potter started to roll his eyes but Draco continued, “I know it’s not a pleasant thought, Potter, but you are human. You’re allowed to want normal human things, like privacy.”

“Am I?” Potter asked sarcastically.

“You are, in fact.”

He rolled his eyes again and Draco was tempted to tell him they’d get stuck like that if he wasn’t careful, that’s what his mother always said, anyway. Potter plowed on, “So if I asked you for a normal human thing, like a date, for instance, that would be allowed.”

Draco’s heart fluttered to his throat but he shoved it back down, Potter was just testing him. “You’d have to ask me nicely.”

The other man huffed a laugh, “Draco, will you please go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” he replied because he’d be damned if he backed down first.

Potter blinked, “Really? Are you being serious?” He shook his head, “I can never tell with you.”

Draco lifted one shoulder, “are you?”

He nodded.

“How’s tonight?”

Potter glanced at the bed, “he’s not going to wake up tonight?”

“No,” he replied, his heart thundering against his ribs.

Potter grinned at him, the first real smile he’d seen him have in two weeks. “Then tonight sounds perfect.”

————

Day 77: Shoes | Day 79: Never

[niksfics]

↬ FATE

↬ PAIRINGS: kenma x f!reader (side aka rebound mention) miya atsumu x f!reader

↬ WARNINGS: a whole lotta angst, breakup, it’s an online relationship, kenma is cold and hurts ur feelings

↬ SUMMARY: your relationship with kenma really had felt like the last one. He was it, turns out he didn’t have similar feelings.

↬ A/N: alright loves!! This isn’t proofread at all it’s 2 in the morning I’ll edit when I wake up, butttt Thanks to my lovely ex girlfriend you are now being graced with this steaming pile of trash. (Lovely was not meant sarcastically at all she is in fact very lovely.) Ngl almost, if not all of this story is about my relationship with my ex gf. This is how I cope people. ￫ It’s taken me awhile to actually be able to right something that’s why things kinda stopped. Tbh after she broke up with me it’s been very hard for me to write so hopefully this helps! And I hope you enjoy!! I would also just like to say if it feels a lil weird it’s cause these are things I’ve actually written in my notes I tweaked it a little to fit the story but it’s straight from the source 😩

WC | 2.5K

You sighed as you opened your notes app. Your eyes scanning over all of the little facts and quirks he had told you about himself. All the stuff you’d wanted to remember. The stuff that had seemed so important to you before. Now it was meaningless, almost like facts about a stranger. Almost as if you hadn’t spent four months learning about and growing with eachother.

You scrolled down a little bit right under, how his favorite marvel character is Spider-Man and you chewed on your lip. Your fingers hovering above the keyboard on your phone. You looked over the facts again. The things he dislikes and the stuff he adores, the things he likes to collect to the way he feels passionately about a certain topic. You begin to type.

Friday June 25th 2022 12:22 Am

I cried again tonight, because I still love you. It’s been a month and six days since we broke up. It feels like there’s a hole in my chest. You seem to be doing fine though, so I’m happy for you! This is the second time since we’ve broken up that I’ve felt actual physical emotional pain in my chest. Remember when I told you how bad it hurt after we broke up? Remember how you didn’t even ask if I was ok? Didn’t even bother to answer. Do you remember that? I remember. I’ve thought about it every day since. I remember it being so bad I genuinely thought I was having a heart attack. Wasn’t until I’d called tetsu crying that he’d told me it was just emotional and I should probably try to relax.

I read through our old messages. I’ve never wanted something back so bad. Never wanted to beg anyone to stay till now. I wish you loved me like I love you. I wish I hadn’t grown so attached, wish I hadn’t fallen so deeply into love with you. I wish it wasn’t my fault that we broke up. I wish I wasn’t so fucking scared. I wish I was fearless. Wish I could rise into love bravely. I wish I was brave when it came to you. I keep telling myself it was me. It was me not you. You didn’t love me anymore. You don’t love me anymore and you’re just too nice to say that. So you told me in the only way I could handle. Except you hadn’t used the words you should have. You got bored. We both know it’s true. You were bored of it, and I don’t blame you. I know we’ll never talk again, and part of me is so glad. Another part of me forces myself to read through all our messages though. I wish I could just tell you one last time. I love you.

You sighed saving it before closing out of it. Tears you hadn’t known were falling finally became known to you as they streamed down your cheeks. Your eyes puffy as you wet your lips, the salt of them coating your tongue. You were bitter and so were your tears. I briefly wondered what he was doing right now. Probably playing a video game. You knew his schedule all to well by now. Probably testing out a new game for his stream.

A new set of fresh tears fell as you remembered how you used to call him right before he went on. Being lulled to sleep by his occasionally curses and the clicking oh his controller or his keyboard.

You never expected things to end this way. You really thought he was the last one. Yes it had only been four months, but the way he made you feel. The way that it had felt. It had felt final, and you’d been friends before you even started dating.

You sniffle moving yourself to the kitchen to poor yourself a glass of water as you remembered how nervous you were when you first texted him. You had acumulated quite the crush on him back in high school. As Inarazaki’s manager you were required to go to the games, and even after your team lost you had stuck around. Watched him play and cheered him on. Two weeks later you had begun to text, as friends of course. It wasn’t until four months ago that you’d gotten together.

Your anniversary was only two days prior to your break up. You both had never been one to even care about that stuff. You had agreed early on in the relationship that we wouldn’t do anything due to the distance, and the business of our schedules. You were never one for remembering things like anniversaries anyways.

He really did feel like the one. Sometimes you just know. Sometimes you can just feel it. Like, you know that feeling you get when you know something is off or you know for sure something is about to happen even without being told it’s going to. That’s what it felt like to be with kozume kenma.

You thought you knew, you thought this time, this time its for real. You thought it was finally safe to say, that he was the one. You both had even admitted to looking for each others initials in those stupid soulmate tik tok videos.

You were finally in a mature relationship with someone you could talk about anything to. You had gotten so caught up in it, that you didn’t even see the end creeping up on you.

↝

You’d finally gained the courage to text him again. Unfortunately it was in a drunken daze. Your hands shaking as you fumbled with your phone typing things you’d come to regret in the morning. You’d sent him a series of texts telling him how much you missed him, how you didn’t understand how he was so okay. You had been a wreck that night. One of your friends puking in her toilet as you cried. You were happy of course that he was doing so well, but you’d been a wreck for so long and he hadn’t even changed. You told him you wished you could be okay.

When you’d awoken the next morning hair knotted in a complete mess and wiping drool from your chin your heart had sunk even lower. His response was cold. You knew that kenma could be cold. You knew that it was just who he was, but this particular text had felt so unfeeling and unfamiliar, it was as if he hadn’t even sent it himself. He had only ever talked like this to you once and that was when you first became friends all those years ago.

Kozume ❤️

Hey, it’s okay. And yeah you see what I choose to put up. I could be better. But I choose to stay optimistic and busy. Sorry that things are this way.

You had never seen so many periods in a text before. He only used grammar like that when he was peeved, and maybe you were wrong, maybe he’d done that on purpose, but it had hurt so bad. It had caused an ache so deep in your chest that you weren’t sure if you’d ever even dated him at all.

Yeah.

It was the only thing you could bring yourself to respond back with. How were you supposed to respond to that? You’d stared at it for so long and after you’d sent it you wished you had said more. Wished you would’ve said something more insightful than a simple, heartbroken, “yeah.”

Not too long later there was another ping and you held your breath. His name briefly appearing across your screen.

Yeah. I could be better. But I hope you do well soon. I’m sorry that I can’t really do much to help out

And of course you did the only thing you could do. Deflect. Pretend like you hadn’t said what you’d said not even fourteen hours ago.

No it’s fine. I’m fine. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry that you could be doing better.

He left you on seen. You knew you sounded like an asshole. At least to you, you felt like an asshole. Why couldn’t you have come up with something else. Why couldn’t you tell him the truth. Tell him how you felt. Tell him that you didn’t think you should be broken up anymore. That the month long cruel joke was over and you were ready to spend your nights falling asleep to him playing video games again. You didn’t though, and you never would. You’re not brave enough, too prideful to even try.

You swallowed down the bile rising in your throat as you realized even if you did beg him. Begged him to take you back. Tell him that you still love him. You were too late, and you just couldn’t be selfish when it comes to him. He is over you and it was so plainly obvious. You know that deep down. Know that he’s moved on, and it kills you inside. So you did the only thing you could do. Try and put it into words.

So as you lay in bed the warm body you let occupy your space sound asleep beside you, his toned blonde hair tousled slightly and you sighed. Finally away from the shenanigans of your friends you took a deep breath before you closed your eyes.

You opened up your notes app again and scrolled past the last entry. You swallowed again as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. Your thumbs beginning to move before you even gave them permission.

Wednesday June 30th 2022 1:39 Am

Here I am again. Stuck. Stuck in the same place I’ve been for so long. You know, I write so beautifully when I’m broken. I’m most of my best work is written when I’m being torn apart. But I just, I can’t seem to find the words. I can’t seem to put it into a document and turn out little story into a different story to cope. Can’t seem to write it out. Can’t seem to move on.

I hovered over the unfollow button on your page today, to keep myself from scrolling through your things again. To keep myself from getting hurt. So I don’t have to be reminded. I want to delete it. Delete where we officially met. On a chat through my screen. I wanna wipe the messages clean. And I’ve tried. Oh how I’ve tried. But I can’t.

I want to delete our conversations. The hours long talks we had, but then, what happens afterwards? What keeps the memories alive. I’d never been so in love with someone before. I’ve never actually…. Been in love before. I thought I’d been in love, but it didn’t feel like that, and losing them never hurt like this. Losing someone has never hurt this bad before.

I’ve never felt the emptiness you left so deep in my very being with anyone I’ve ever met before. I can’t seem to pull myself together. And it’s pathetic I know. It’s pathetic that I’m still here. In the same place I was a month ago. It’s about to be two months we’ve haven’t been together. I’m hurting. Hurting so bad. It’s painful to look at you.

I haven’t deleted the photos even though I probably should. They’re still tucked away in an album in my camera roll labeled “us <3” the one one I made specially just for you. The way I’d been so excited when I was finally ready to tell my friends. I even have this stupid notes folder from when we were dating where I wrote all the little things about you that I never wanted to forget. I find you so endearing. Everything you do. I just couldn’t help but right it down to keep it safe so it never leaves my mind. So that I never forget. But now, forgetting is all I want to do.

I never thought there’d be a time in my life where I was more emotionally stunted that I normally. So stunted I can’t even put this, our split up, into words. Make it something entertaining for somebody else to read. Write a book about it. My publicist keeps asking when the sequel for my book will be done. I don’t know if it’ll ever be finished. I can’t do the one thing I’ve always been good at. I’m crying as I write this.

And I wish it would just end here in this little notes app. Wish the love would die in here. I always think I’m over you and then I see you again, and nowadays your everywhere. A very big hit and I’m happy for you and your success, but seeing you makes my heart squeeze in my chest.

I think I’m over you until I play that stupid fucking game that causes me to scream at my phone, or my laptop in frustration, but I just can’t seem to delete it because I know it’s something that you love. That show we used to talk about. I know you know which one, I can’t seem to watch it without thinking of what was. You’ve ruined it forever cause now it only reminds me of you. I know you’ll never see this, but I like to imagine you can. That my time for closure has somehow come.

When you told me you were sorry that things were this way, it was a real slap in the face. It stopped my false hope. My wishing. It all came to a halt. I’m glad. Glad that you’re happier. That you’re better without me. But god, now I’m so fucked up and I can’t even talk to you.

You were the only person I had left. The only one who understood me. And now you’re gone. You took a part of me with you that night. A part that I’ll never get back. I should’ve known that you would leave. I’ve never been able to get someone to stay for longer than three to four months.

I thought I could let my guard down though. I thought we were in the clear. I’d thought finally. Finally someone is gonna stay. I thought you were my person. I still think that to this day. I thought we were gonna make it. And now I’m with this guy I don’t even like. He’s not you, he doesn’t act like you. He doesn’t like video games like you do.

He doesn’t talk to me like you do. Like you did. But you know how it ended I don’t need to put it here. Unfortunately I’ll always love you even if you don’t love me. This is so scattered, I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy.

With that you closed the app and put down your phone. Plugging in it and as it dinged miya atsumu rolled over in his sleep. He reached for you his hands wrapping around your waist to tug you against his strong body.

His gravely voice whispering through sleep, “mmm finally decided to come to bed?” You hum moving an arm under on of his to wrap around his thin waist. “Mhm, thought you might need the company.” You began to draw little shapes and letters against his back as he chuckled, “oh yea? How thoughtful of you princess.”

Suddenly it was quiet and your closed eyes opened to his wide brown ones, his eyebrows furrowing .

“Did you just spell kozume on my back?”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Mother doesn’t know best (one-shot)

Regulus Black AU 

Summary:  Walburga upsets Regulus. You will always be there to pick up the pieces.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- smut

______

You could tell from the moment that Regulus walked through the door that he was in a hell of a mood. It didn’t take the two of you to be together for so long to know when he was in a horrible mood. You couldn’t help but be curious about exactly what Walburga did to piss your lover off so badly.

Regulus took his coat off and let it drop to the floor. Normally he would have neatly put the garment back in the closet. Regulus hated wrinkles and would have a fit if his coat had the slightest wrinkle on it. You would spend hours listening to him bitch about how annoying and sloppy wrinkles were.

You didn’t say anything as he sat down on the sofa and stared at the TV with a glare on his face. That look...you knew that look very well. Any time that Regulus was the least bit displeased THAT was the look that you saw on him.

Giving Regulus a few moments to cool off, you hung up his coat before turning around. Regulus’ grey eyes were still locked on the television. You crawled behind Regulus and wrapped your arms around him from behind. Normally you cuddling Regulus was enough to calm him down from whatever stupidity that his parents had caused.

Touching was your method of providing him comfort. It had been from the moment that the two of you had become a couple. While you came from a family that wasn’t the least bit hesitant to show each other love and affection, Regulus didn’t. The poor boy was touch starved from the moment that he was born. At first, Regulus was hesitant about returning a hug or letting you snuggle him. It only took a month for Regulus to enjoy the cuddles enough to be wrapping himself around you at any spare moment.

You snuggled your face against Regulus’ shoulder. He didn’t say a word as you proceeded to pepper his neck with kisses.

“Want to tell me what’s eating you?”

Regulus groaned but didn’t say anything. Mentally shrugging, you continued to kiss the same path over and over before getting brave and biting down on his earlobe. Regulus wiggled himself loose and rolled his eyes.

“Just stop, would you?”

Had he not been in the mood from hell, Regulus would have seen how stunned and baffled that you looked. You looked as if you had been knocked off of your imaginary unicorn. Regulus turned and walked out the door to the back garden leaving you blinking after him.

This had been the first time that Regulus remotely took his frustrations out on you. Normally that was never an option. It wasn’t your place to take the blame for his issues “whatever they were.”

You didn’t move to go after Regulus. When he was ready to talk about whatever it was that he was going through...he would come to you.

An hour later, you sat on the couch reading a book that you had borrowed from Remus. You were so lost in the story that you hadn’t noticed that Regulus walked back in. You also didn’t notice the embarrassed expression on his face. Truth was, Regulus felt awful. You didn’t deserve him taking his frustrations out on you. It wasn’t your problem that his mother knew how to suck the life out of anyone within five minutes.

Regulus wasn’t about to tell you that the reason that he was so pissy was because of his mother’s insistence that the two of you produce an heir. You didn’t need to spend the evening and the next few days wondering if you were “good enough” to be his wife. Regulus would stop that from happening at all costs.

As Far as Walburga was concerned, it didn’t matter that Regulus told her that you weren’t physically able to do that. Walburga didn’t seem to understand the words “it will not be happening.” Regulus accepted it and it was time that Walburga did too. If she was so desperate for an heir then she needed to go talk to her eldest son. Regulus assumed that Sirius probably had a few kids running around out there. The way that Sirius “got around” it wouldn’t be surprising if the Black family had multiple new family members that no one knew about.

Regulus waited a few moments for you to say something to him but you didn’t. He smirked when he realized that you didn’t know that he was in the room. Shaking his head, Regulus gently snatched the book away.

“Hey!”

You whined. Regulus gave you a smile before kneeling down in front of you.

“Hi.”

You reached out to stroke your fingers through his hair.

“Hi... I suppose that you are having a bad day?”

You said softly. Regulus nodded, taking his hand in your and kissing each fingertip.

“Something like that. Mum knows how to suck the life force right out of you. It's no wonder my father is nothing but a glorified statue.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Regulus shook his head. You didn’t expect him to be wanting to talk about whatever it was that Walburga had done. Regulus was never much of a talker when it came to his family. He would put the issue away in an expertly secretive little file in his mind only for it to never be seen or heard about again.

“Would you rather me take your pants off?”

Regulus’ grey eyes rolled up at the prospect of sex. This didn’t surprise you. As much as you wanted to make a comment about Regulus not being so different from Sirius; you decided not to. If you wanted to make your lover feel better comparing Regulus to his brother was not a good idea.

“That sounds nice.”

Regulus replied. He stood up and offered his hand to pull you up from the sofa.

“Bed or here?”

You asked. It didn’t matter to you where the sex would take place. The two of you seemed to have sex wherever the mood would hit.

“Bed.”

Regulus commented before picking you up and carrying you into the next room. He closed the door with his foot before gently sitting you down. You stayed in the same place as Regulus began unzipping your dress. His fingers expertly tugged the zipper down toward your bottom. Regulus wanted nothing more than to tug the fabric off of you but he knew that would get him nowhere except a shopping trip to buy a new dress. The last thing that he wanted was to spend the evening stuck in a dress shop with other husbands who were bored out of their minds. Regulus would rather be feeding you his cock instead.

The moment your dress hit the floor, you turned in Regulus’ arms and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was the same as always...sweet and timid at first before moving to fiery and possessive. You internally smiled at the memory of the first kiss that Regulus had given you. He had been so timid and embarrassed at first. Now he didn’t care where the hell that the two of you were. When he wanted a kiss your lips were his for the taking.

“What?”

Regulus questioned as you started unbuttoning his shirt and tugging the garment out of his slacks. You shook your head with an innocent smile and kissed his chin once more.

“Nothing. Can’t I smile when I kiss you?”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“There is no such thing as nothing with you. Good try though, sugar. Now, what do you want me to do to you?”

You sat down on the bed before reaching out to unbuckle Regulus’ belt. That was a silly question for him to ask. Regulus was always the more dominant in the bedroom. You assumed this question was always to see how interested you were in what he had to offer.

“Such a silly question, love. I know what you want.”

You replied, running a hand up Regulus’ now obvious erection. He bit his lip as you finally wrapped your mouth around his length.

“I suppose you do know.”

Regulus commented as his eyes fluttered closed. You opened your eyes for a brief moment to see the ecstasy on your lover’s face. Again, you internally smiled at the memory of the first blow job that you had given Regulus. How he lasted a whole five minutes was still amusing to you. The poor love was so embarrassed at the coming so quickly and kept offering promises that once he was inside of you he could definitely last longer.

As the years progressed, Regulus gained an iron grasp on his orgasm. You often found yourself begging him to come already because your jaws or your pussy was so sore from “activities” that you needed a break. There were only a few ways to make him come super quick and he refused to talk about them. Your personal favorite was giving him an inconspicuous handjob at bad times. The most memorable was a few weeks ago at dinner with Walburga, Orion, and a few of the other Black family members. You smiled at the memory…

It was another boring dinner or listening to Walburga and Orion talk about how wonderful their family was. You sat beside Regulus as the dutiful sweet little wife that he adored so much. The less that you caught Walburga’s attention the better. Regulus hadn’t said much that evening. Granted, he normally didn’t say much around his parents. He had learned years ago to keep his trap shut.

As Walburga started talking about Christmas plans, you let your eyes fall to Regulus’ lap. Now would be the perfect time for a handjob. You knew Regulus probably wouldn’t think so. Your prim and proper lover still didn’t exactly love the idea of public displays of affection. A handjob and him coming in front of his family would be a huge “hell no.”

You let your eyes flutter to Regulus’ face. He sat watching his mother with a bored expression on his handsome face. Regulus clearly had not picked up on your playful smile and for this you were thrilled. As carefully as possible, you scooted your chair closer to Regulus.

The moment your fingers stroked over his cock, Regulus’ eyes turned to you. He gave you a warning expression that said “not now” but you weren’t going to listen. So what if he spanked you later? You would have some fun at the time being. You only blinked at Regulus before continuing to lightly stroke your fingertips over his hardening cock. Regulus reached down and wrapped his hand around yours. You assumed that he was going to shove you away but he didn’t. Instead, he forced your hand open to palm him under the table cloth.

Regulus pressed his lips together as you got braver and began unbuttoning his dress pants.

“Y/n, no...please.”

Regulus whispered in your direction. You gave him a playful smirk before wrapping your hand around his length. Regulus discreetly put his hand over his mouth obviously hoping that his parents would assume that he was carefully considering their words. Little did they know what you were actually doing to their youngest son.”

Regulus rocking his hips pulled you from the memory. He whined when you let his cock drop from your mouth. Sitting up a bit straighter, you placed a kiss to his hip bone.

“Want to take me?”

“That’s a dumb question.”

Regulus said as he gently pushed you back on the bed. You knew that he wasn’t going to just shove in. That was for inexperienced kids. He always left you needy and soaking the sheets before ever considering pushing inside of you.

He gently stroked his left hand between your bodies to stroke your pussy. Regulus groaned feeling how wet you were. He knew to expect it but it was always such a pleasant surprise. His middle finger effortlessly slipped inside your opening leaving you gasping his name. Regulus continued to tease you for a few moments. One finger became two. Two fingers were pushing in as deep as possible. He scissored and pumped you to orgasm twice. Each time, as your orgasm approached, Regulus stopped moving. His grey eyes were locked on your face and a small smirk played at his lips. Regulus knew how to drive you wild just as you knew how to push him over the edge.

“Need you now.”

You whimpered as Regulus curled his fingers. If Regulus continued to tease you like this there was no way that you would last long. To your relief, he seemed to want sex as badly as you did. Both of you sighed the moment that he pushed inside of you.

“Take it all, sugar.”

Regulus ordered, trying his hardest to resist the urge to start fucking you as if he was a careless teenager. He stopped himself each time. You didn’t deserve just to have a sloppy mess made out of your pussy. Despite this being about him, Regulus would make sure that you were taken care of. The words “happy wife, happy life” could have never been more accurate.

The soft gentle lovemaking turned hungry and desperate within seconds. You reached up to wrap your arms around Regulus’ shoulders as his skin slapped against yours. The feeling of Regulus’ cock sliding in and out of you before filling you to the hilt was enough to make you want to come alone. Your body twitched involuntarily as the arousal became more intense. Suddenly you felt your body lingering on the edge of orgasm.

“Please don't stop. Please don’t stop.”

You chanted over and over. You were trembling all over as the pleasure exploded. Regulus moaned loudly. The feeling of your body strangling his cock was enough to bring him over the edge. He knew that this wasn’t going to last long from the get-go. Regulus stopped thrusting almost instantly. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you for a few moments before filling you.

Regulus was the first to break away. He stroked his finger over your nose before lying down beside you. You didn’t fight as he pulled you into his arms.

“Do you feel better?”

You asked, yawning. Regulus nodded and kissed your head.

“You always make me feel better. Maybe a small nap is in order?”

You didn’t argue as you wrapped your arm around Regulus’ body a bit more tightly and prepared for a nap (and round two). Before falling asleep you made a mental note to thank Walburga for whatever it was that she did to him. You would assure her that you were there to calm her baby boy down...just as you always would be.

_______

@amelie-black​ @regulusslut​ @mellifluous-cosmos​ @fandomsxxregulus​ @realgaytrash​ @acciosiriusblack​ @fific7​ @quuenofblacks​ @siriuslyceleste​ @whymyparentscheckmyphone​ @criminalyetminimal​ @hazel-eyes5​ @lucasfilms77​ @exhsle​ @spiderxalmighty​ @rubyroscoe1​ @bennyberry​ @harold-pothead​ @mimisparkle12​ @teletubiswszpilkach​ @zievyimas​ @jessyballet @knreidy1 @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @emiwrites3reads @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @marichromatic @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @sprnaturallover @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner