#just maybe it feels nice to have someone show fucking concern over my wellbeing other than friends on discord

[phantoids]

love when i leave the house without saying anything and nobody even texts me to ask where i am.

[whumpmatsus]

hush. [ Wakabamatsu ]

In which Jyushimatsu wakes up with a migraine, but his big brother is going to take good care of him, so... it’s okay.

Jyushimatsu doesn’t usually wake up easily, unless he hears Ichimatsu’s voice or all the rest of his brothers are arguing.

He’s so full of energy for most of the day, it’s like he recharges at night by sleeping so deeply. Even going to bed with the lights on doesn’t bother him like it might for, say, Ichimatsu. He’s also typically asleep before everyone else… though that doesn’t necessarily translate into being awake earlier.

Tonight, or maybe it’s really early in the morning, he’s woken up by the most excruciating physical pain he’s ever felt.

It feels like someone’s jabbing an ice pick into the left side of his head, right above his eye. The pain isn’t repetitive; rather, it doesn’t seem to actually stop at all. It’s just constant and there and awful.

Worse yet is the fact that it feels like the world is spinning. The sensation makes him panicky, his heart pounding against his ribs, because he knows he isn’t moving. He’s still as can be and it’s everything else that’s moving. Isn’t it?

He exerts what he thinks is an enormous amount of willpower into closing his eyes and clenching his fists. Maybe he’s dreaming? That’s it. He’s just dreaming about being on a boat or something.

It only takes a few seconds for him to decide that is not what’s going on. The rocking sensation is getting worse, and he’s not waking up, so this can’t be a dream.

He takes a breath and throws his hand to the side, frantically searching for his older brother beside him. “Ch… Choromatsu-nii-san…!” He tries to keep his eyes shut. If he opens them again, the pain in his head is going to intensify.

There’s a tired groan from beside him, and the sounds of Choromatsu trying to get his bearings. “Huhm… mmh… Jyushimatsu? Aaah…” He yawns. “Is everything okay?”

“No… no, I don’t feel good…” He wishes he could feel prideful about complaining or guilty for waking his big brother up. Normally, he would at least try to suffer on his own for a bit before going to one of his brothers. Instead, the pain overtakes everything else.

“Aaaah… it’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I’m right here to take care of you, alright?” Choromatsu is careful as always when he knows one of the others is feeling poorly, and he scoots closer. “Come here. Will it make you feel better if I hold you for a little bit?”

Jyushimatsu isn’t sure. However, as with most other situations, a hug certainly can’t hurt when he isn’t feeling well. “Ahahah… y-yeah, maybe… my head really hurts.” He turns over into his brother’s embrace, expecting to have an easier time calming down once he’s nestled against Choromatsu’s chest.

Choromatsu’s arms reach out to pull Jyushimatsu closer. “Ah, no… I’m sorry, Jyushi. It’s okay… I’ll rub it and maybe you can get back to sleep.”

That sounds nice, but it doesn’t get a chance to happen. Any possibility of peace evaporates as soon as Jyushimatsu rolls onto his side. He opens his eyes briefly only for his vision to wobble and darken. The spinning he’s been feeling takes half a second to blossom into full-on nausea, then he practically chokes on a gag.

It’s all the warning either of them get before suddenly he’s vomited into the space between them ― and, more embarrassingly, he’s pretty sure it splashed Choromatsu in the process.

“Ah! J-Jyushimatsu!” Despite what just happened, Choromatsu moves to pull Jyushimatsu closer to him in an attempt to comfort him, particularly when it becomes clear that his poor little brother has started to wail. “Oh, my God… Jyushi… h-hey, hey, it’s okay! D-don’t cry, please!”

The sound of someone, or maybe the entire rest of their brood, moaning awake on the other side of Choromatsu serves to do nothing except make the pounding in Jyushimatsu’s head louder. His own sobbing makes pressure against his skull and it’s sharp and why can’t he stop?

“Hey, what gives? Are you two assclowns trying to wake the whole fucking neighborhood?” Osomatsu’s voice is groggy and irritated, and it’s just one more thing driving that ice pick deeper into Jyushimatsu’s head.

Jyushimatsu can feel the vibration from the growl Choromatsu gives toward their eldest. “God, would you calm your tits? Jyushimatsu threw up.”

“In the futon?!”

“Are you kidding me right now? He couldn’t help it!”

Osomatsu whines for a second, which is exactly no help to Jyushimatsu’s headache, but then he just yawns. “Geez… what happened??”

“I don’t know…” Choromatsu’s hand combs lightly through his brother’s hair, though it’s not any significant relief. Mostly it makes Jyushimatsu feel less self-conscious; if Choromatsu isn’t freaking out and moving away, he’s probably more worried about Jyushimatsu’s wellbeing than with the fact that he and the futon just got puked on. “He woke me up and said he didn’t feel good, that his head hurt. Then he rolled over so I could hold him, and… threw up.”

Jyushimatsu whimpers pitifully, trying to wipe at his mouth. “I f-feel seasick… my eyes are all blurry… my head hurts really bad…”

Choromatsu lets out a quiet, “Oh…” like he’s had some big moment of realization about what’s going on. “Jyushi… did you feel sick to your stomach before you moved?”

“Mnh-mnh. It just felt like… the world was spinning… still feels like that. I thought I was d-dreaming about being on a boat… then when I moved… my stomach went all flip-floppy… feels a little better now.”

“Okay, okay… that’s good, at least. What about your head? Is the pain mostly on one side?”

“Uh-huh. Like someone’s… trying to drill into my brain right above my left eye…”

“Aw. Gosh. Well, in that case…” He leans down to press a kiss to Jyushimatsu’s head, and pats his back in reassurance. “Sounds like a migraine to me. Like a headache times a thousand, complete with a side of vertigo and aura. I’m sorry Osomatsu is such a dick that he yelled at us.”

“WHAT?! I’m not a dick! I’m just tired!”

Choromatsu hisses as the noise makes Jyushimatsu flinch. “Those things aren’t mutually exclusive, you jackass. And would you show some Goddamn concern for your baby brother over here? You’re talking loud and making him more miserable.”

“You just―” Osomatsu stops dead as he seems to realize that he’s literally just proving Choromatsu’s point. “― Ah, shit, sorry, Jyushi. Uhhh. What are we supposed to do for this? Besides get out of the futon and go set up camp in the living room for the night?”

“Yeah,” comes a low, sleep-husky voice Jyushimatsu recognizes as Ichimatsu’s. “Is there anything we can do? The last time I had a headache that made me blow chunks, I was out of it for the rest of the day and still felt all hazy once it was gone.”

Jyushimatsu almost starts crying again at the thought of feeling so bad for an entire day. He settles for sniffling and tucking his painful head under Choromatsu’s chin.

The action gets the third eldest’s attention, as he’s immediately pulled in closer and gets another kiss on the head. “Aah, well… most of the time, a migraine kind of has to go away on its own. We can try giving him painkillers and making it as dark as possible in here and keeping things quiet…”

Totty snorts. “So keep Osomatsu-nii-san away from him, then.”

“Oh, you two-faced little―”

“Osomatsu-nii-san! Where are your manners? Jyushimatsu-nii-san’s head!”

“I don’t have manners at 5 in the morning on a Monday!”

“Dear brothers, why are we all sniping at each other? Should we not instead be trying to help our little Jyushimatsu?”

“Like you could be any help. Just being around you has to be causing him more pain, Shittymatsu.”

“Cut it the fuck out, all of you!” Choromatsu’s voice comes out in a vicious whisper as he continues to cradle Jyushimatsu. “None of you are helping right now. You guys just… get your pillows, get some extra blankets, and head into the living room. I’ll get Jyushimatsu and I changed, we’ll move over to a clean part of the futon, and I’ll spend the rest of the night in here with him.”

There’s a distinct pause, which almost sounds louder than if anyone had said anything. Finally Ichimatsu speaks up again. “Are you sure? I can stay.”

“No, no, it’s okay, Ichimatsu. I’ve got it. You know I’ll take good care of him.”

Ichimatsu lets out a soft sigh. “… Yeah, I know. Let us know if we can help.”

“I will. You guys go try to get some sleep, okay?”

The other four murmur some well wishes, probably trying not to make things worse, and the sound of the door sliding open is sort of like a knife cutting through Jyushimatsu’s mind. He curls up tighter against Choromatsu, looking for protection.

Though, unfortunately, based on what his big brother said a minute ago, there’s nothing that can really be done to take away the pain. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sniffling again. “I didn’t m-mean to throw up on you…”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Jyushimatsu, it’s okay. You don’t feel well. It’s not like you wanted to do it.” Choromatsu rubs Jyushimatsu’s back a few times, giving a cautious squeeze to his whole body. “You don’t need to be sorry. Now, listen. I’m gonna close the curtains and blinds and go change my clothes real fast, then I’m gonna try to see if I can get you cleaned up and change your shirt, too. You’re a little dirty… I don’t want you getting nauseous again from the smell. After that I’m gonna carry you to the other side of the futon, and… we’ll make sure the other side gets cleaned up later when you feel better.”

Okay. Okay, that sounds like not too bad of a plan. He can do that, right? It sounds like Choromatsu is going to be the one doing most of the work, so Jyushimatsu shouldn’t have to move too much. That would be ideal; he feels like if he moves to roll onto his back or anything, he might be sick again. “Okay.”

“Okay? Okay. Good, uh… hm… if we can get some painkillers in you, it might help take the edge off the migraine. Do you think maybe you could get some medicine down with a few sips of water?”

“I… I dunno… maybe.” The thought of swallowing anything isn’t pleasant. But if it could potentially take a little bit of the pain away, he can try. What’s the worst thing that could happen? He might hurl again? At least he’ll have given it a shot.

He feels Choromatsu pull away from him. “Alright, we’ll try it, then. I’ll bring a trashcan in here just in case you throw up again. And, ah, let’s see… sometimes an ice pack against your head helps. Want me to bring one?”

He barely resists the urge to nod, because he knows that would be a terrible idea right now. “Mhm.”

“Alright. You just… lie still and don’t move, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me see if I can get it a little darker in here…”

There’s a brief rattling sound that comes along with Choromatsu trying to shut the blinds, then a fabric-shifting noise from the curtains.

Instantly the soft sunlight which was trying to filter in is blocked. Despite the fact that it’s not totally pitch black, it feels like shadows have descended on the room. Cool, greyish shadows that are protecting him from the agony of anything bright.

A few minutes seems kind of like an eternity to Jyushimatsu at the moment. He’s still a little dizzy even with his eyes clamped shut, although the nausea has faded into almost nothing, thank goodness. The sharp pain in his head continues, and he’s partially convinced that it’s going to split him in half.

Everything is awful. He’s used to being the one who can tolerate the most extreme things and often is fully involved in those things. Yet, right now, everything is too much. Even his own thoughts are too loud.

The only movement he makes is to reach up a trembling hand and touch his head in some childish hope that holding it will make the hurt stop. Unlike Choromatsu’s gentle kisses, however, just touching the epicenter of the migraine sends a horrible shockwave of pain through his whole body.

When Choromatsu returns, he returns to his little brother curled up in a ball, breathing deeply and still mewling in intense discomfort.

“Hey, Jyushi… I’m back.” He keeps his voice low as he kneels down, giving another couple of rubs to Jyushimatsu’s back. “You doing okay?”

Ugh, why would he ask that?? Jyushimatsu wants to be angry, he is a little annoyed… but Choromatsu is trying to take care of him. He can’t be too pissed when all his big brother wants is to make him as comfortable as possible. “No… it hurts.”

“Aah, I know, I know… I’m sorry. Is it okay if I try to change your shirt now? I can probably do it without making you sit up, if I’m careful… you’ll have to raise your arms, though.”

“Uh-huh… okay.”

“I will have to sit you up to take the medicine in a minute.” His hand pulls at the bottom of Jyushimatsu’s shirt, starting to roll it up. “I’ve got a trashcan here if you think you’re gonna be sick again. Just give a big squeeze to any part of me you can reach if you need to throw up, okay?”

“Mmh, okay…”

It’s a slow process as Choromatsu gradually manages to get Jyushimatsu’s shirt up off him. Jyushimatsu raises his arms when prompted, and that little motion makes him feel like he’s swaying even more than he already felt like. He’s able to keep them up until his brother gets his arms and head through the new shirt, thank goodness.

How he doesn’t accidentally roll into the mess he made in the futon is beyond him. He mostly credits that to Choromatsu, though. It feels like his big brother is holding him pretty steady, from what he can tell.

“There we go,” Choromatsu sighs, with a sound like he’s dusting his hands off. “Do you think you’ll be okay to sit up and take the medicine?”

Before he can stop himself, a small whine comes out. “I… I changed my mind, Choromatsu-nii-san. I think I’ll puke if I sit up and try to swallow anything…”

Choromatsu’s hand kneads gingerly at the base of Jyushimatsu’s neck. Even among everything else, it’s a comforting gesture. “Hey, hey, that’s fine. The water and medicine will still be here when you feel like you’re okay to take it. I’m just gonna carry you over to the other side of the futon now, okay? I’m gonna pick you up, and I’ll go really slow. You gonna be alright?”

“Mmm… y-yeah, I think so. Not too fast… right?”

“Right. And just tell me if you need me to stop for a second. Here we go, okay?”

Jyushimatsu braces himself for the movement, and true to Choromatsu’s word, he’s lifted up very gingerly, in a series of tiny moves rather than one swift one. He keeps his eyes shut as his brother makes a little adjustment, with one arm under Jyushimatsu’s legs and one supporting his back, and his head cradled against Choromatsu’s chest.

Despite his pain, Jyushimatsu finds the energy to give a weak laugh. “Haha… upsy-daisy…”

Choromatsu chuckles along, a barely-there breath of amusement. “Yeah, upsy-daisy. You remember… that one day when we were all kids, and Mom took us to the beach ― that day it was sunny in the morning but started raining when we’d only been in the water for like half an hour?”

“Oh, yeah… hehe… and then we made a beach in the living room when we got home… because I put a bucketful of sand in our tote bag before we started swimming, hehe.”

“Yeah, that’s right! I remember Osomatsu, Karamatsu, and I each grabbed one of you younger guys… Osomatsu grabbed Totty, and Karamatsu grabbed Ichimatsu, and I grabbed you. We carried you out of the water and into the car, haha… running to get out of the rain as fast as we could.”

After a second, Jyushimatsu is laid down in that same careful way Choromatsu picked him up, and having a clean part of the futon under him feels a lot better. Soon enough his older brother is lying next to him, gingerly guiding him into a hug to comfort him. “I remember holding you in my arms way back then just like I did a minute ago. I held you really close and tried to keep you from getting wet, haha.”

“Mmm.” Jyushimatsu snuggles in closer and buries his face in Choromatsu’s chest to try and shut out whatever light might be left. “I think I remember that, too. Hahah… you’re a good big brother. Trying to keep me safe.”

Choromatsu’s hand strokes through Jyushimatsu’s hair; long, syrupy strokes that feel much better than when he tried to hold his head himself. The ice pack must have been set down close, because something cold and soothing is held against the left side of his head. “W-well, you know… you’re a good little brother… worthy of being kept safe.”

“Haha. All the rest of your little brothers… they can suck it, right?”

He snorts, and thank God, it doesn’t disrupt the peace they’ve both been trying to cultivate. “Aah, no… all my brothers are worthy of being kept safe. Even the jackass eldest and the hollow monster baby. But, I mean… don’t tell them I said that.”

Jyushimatsu breathes in and out a few times as he settles in to hopefully get some sleep. “No, no, no… it’d go to their heads.”

“Heh, good. Speaking of dreaming… let’s try to get some rest, okay? Fingers crossed you’ll be feeling better after a little more sleep. If not, at least you won’t be totally conscious for some of the pain. I’ll take the ice pack off in a few minutes here, and all you have to do is let me know if you need anything. Sound like a plan?”

“Mhm. Nighty night, Choromatsu-nii-san.”

A warm breath of a sigh hits the top of his head. In a way, just having his big brother close like this is more comforting than any other remedy he could have suggested. “Night, Jyushi. Feel better soon or else I’m just gonna have to keep taking care of you.”

[plasticnightmaredoll]

Ok, so I had to do this after reading @justasimplesinner ‘s absolutely adorable and precious h/cs for Arkham Knight Riddler meeting his s/o’s family for the first time. I mean, AK!Eddie being happy? Having some sort of family? It hits me right in the feels 😭

But I was inspired to write something similar for Telltale Riddler and his s/o but with a twist. I mean, it’s already going to be quite different considering how Telltale Riddler is, but I’m taking things a little further and getting a bit personal. Since I self-ship with him, I figured, why not turn these h/cs into self-insert ones? 

Basically, Telltale Riddler meeting my family for the first time on Christmas. 

The h/cs will reflect what the reality of my family is like but I won’t get, like, too personal. Y’all don’t need to know everything.

Pre-headcanons warnings to be fair: 

There is a little but of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s a little bit spicy. 

These are self-insert headcanons, not reader-insert ones

This is an age-gap pairing since I’m 33 years old and Telltale Riddler is 60 years old.

Anyway, let’s head on into these h/cs for Telltale Riddler meeting my folks for the first time (and that seems awkward as hell to write but hey, I’m fictosexual so....🤷‍♀️)

There is a little bit of smut at the end. Nothing explicit but it’s definitely a little spicy.  

It’s the first Christmas spent with Eddie since becoming a couple, and it’s also kind of an awkward time because family, you know? And, well, my parents don’t know I’m dating anyone...let alone THE Riddler. 

It’s going to be a challenge getting them to accept me dating someone nearly twice my age (I’m 33 and Edward’s 60, but damn, did he age like fine wine or what?) But revealing that it’s the goddamn Riddler? 

So, yeah, I’m freaking out but I also realize that I have to tell them eventually because it’s only fair, for one, and keeping it a secret for a long time would just make things worse if -- or more realistically, when -- my parents found out on their own. 

Plus, I’m not ashamed or afraid to date Edward. He treats me much differently than he treats most other people, and I want my parents to know that, yeah, he’s Riddler, a criminal mastermind but honestly, he treats me better than any guy has and I’m actually happy.

Edward isn’t nervous but he’s concerned because he doesn’t want to complicate things between my parents and me, doesn’t want to bring unnecessary drama and angst into my life. He can handle people disliking him -- hating him -- but he doesn’t want the only person he’s ever truly cared for to have a damaged relationship with her family because of him.

But we discuss it and decide it’s better to just go ahead and do it. Rip off the band aid and get the pain out of the way as fast as possible, so to speak. Whatever happens, happens, and hopefully it’s nothing (too) upsetting.

I call my parents and tell them I’m coming to visit for Christmas, and I reveal -- while my hands are shaking and my heart is pounding from the anxiety consuming me -- that I want to bring my boyfriend.

Oh, I have a boyfriend? For how long? How did we meet? What’s he like? What’s his name? Why the wait to tell them about him?

I know it wouldn’t go over well to just show up at my parents home hanging off of the goddamn Riddler’s arm, like, “Oh, hey, my boyfriend is a criminal genius, don’t ya know?”

So, I approach telling them over the phone the truth slowly, cautiously. I say his name is Edward and we met kind of by accident and we’ve been dating for a good portion of the year. It’s my first Christmas with him, actually.

Wait, it’s been that long and I never told my them?! What the hell?!

Needless to say, they are baffled and also concerned about this news. 

I explain the awkward but less, uh, shocking news that he is an older man, and I was worried they’d be upset about that. They ask how old Edward is and I hesitate, wondering if I should lie and say he’s, like, in his early 50s because he could easily pass for that age. Hell, even I thought he was in his early 50s (or even very late 40s) when I first met him. 

However, honesty is the best policy, and this is not even the “bad” news yet. 

I say that he just turned 60 years old this year in a calm, cool, casual tone, like I’m talking about the weather and not revealing to my parents that I’m dating a guy who is my dad’s age.

There is silence and I internally panic because if they’re angered or appalled by this, they’re not going to handle finding out who Edward is well at all.

They are surprised, a little worried for my wellbeing because they think Edward’s some perverted Sugar Daddy to me. They don’t say it like that but it’s heavily implied.

I explain that’s not the case at all, that he’s actually very sweet towards me. 

My folks decide to go along with this bit of news because hey, I’m 33 years old. I’m an adult. I can date an older man if I want.

Then comes the “fun” part, which is revealing to them what Edward does for a living.

I laugh nervously, and Edward, who has been patiently sitting beside me on the couch, realizes what I’m about to tell my parents. He watches me closely, hoping this doesn’t turn into a disaster for my sake.

“Yeah, so, Edward, yeah...Edward is...well, he’s, um...Well, he’s, he’s a genius. Like a tech genius, great with electrical engineering, computers. And uh, his job, his profession, his, um, career? Yeah, that’s...well, he’s...”

I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst.

“He’s The Riddler, one of Gotham’s...elite....masterminds.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is so terrifying that I feel like I’m going to faint from how anxious I am. Edward places a hand on my knee as a means of comfort, still wanting to give me some space to breathe and calm down. 

My parents aren’t...thrilled, to say the least. I’m dating a fucking criminal mastermind?! I’m dating RIDDLER? THE RIDDLER? What the goddamn fresh hell is this?!

I start crying because I’m so stressed about this, and Edward moves closer so he can put his arm around me. He feels bad, he really does, and it shows in his troubled expression, but there’s not much he can do. It’s not like we can take this back and say, “Oh, hey, just kidding!” No, this was the truth and now we were dealing with the consequences.

I manage to get my parents to calm down long enough so I can get a word in. I get up off the couch and walk to another room to speak to them alone. 

I tell them I know it’s not the most pleasant news to hear, and I know it seems awful, but it’s the first time I have been with a man and he’s treated me well. Like, really well. It’s not just the nice gifts or expensive dinners. Edward does genuinely care about me. I don’t feel like a “booty call,” he doesn’t ignore me, he doesn’t threaten me, he’s never abused me and never will. He’s not the same person with me as he is with some other people. I wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.

It takes some more convincing, but once I get it through to my parents that yes, I’m actually happy and yes, I’m safe and yes, Edward is a very doting boyfriend, they decide to meet him at Christmas. I know they will still have concerns and may be a bit cold to Edward at first, but I hope they would see what I see.

The day arrives and I’m a nervous wreck. Edward is worried for me. He  assures me that everything will be ok, and I want to believe but I’m still scared.

Deep down, he thinks maybe dating me is a bad idea -- not because he doesn’t love me but because he feels like he could damage my relationship with my parents. However, he doesn’t bring this up as he doesn’t want me to be even more upset than I already am.

Edward had brought with him some gifts for my parents and my grandma (she was staying with them, too). He brought the most most beautiful bouquet of flowers and a necklace for my grandma, a very lovely diamond bracelet for my mom, and a high-quality (aka expensive) watch for my dad.

I had to dress to impress and by that, dress in things Edward had given me to give my parents more visual proof that he was taking care of me. But I was careful not to overdo it. I didn’t want my parents to think I was his piece of...eye candy.

When we arrive, my parents greet us at the door, giving me a much warmer welcome than they give to Edward. They’re not rude to him, but they look uneasy, even a little irritated. 

Edward, being the charming bastard he is, keeps his calm and showcases his gentlemanly side. It’s genuine because he IS quite the gentleman as I have learned, but I don’t know if it will be enough to convince my parents to accept him.

They appreciate the gifts, seem a little caught off guard by the pricey but very lovely things Edward bought them. They also notice I’m wearing a dress that cost a pretty penny and jewelry just as extravagant. But none of it’s gaudy. 

Basically, I don’t look like Riddler’s trophy girlfriend.

Edward is courteous and charming, which seems to help my mom relax a bit. My dad still looks rather tense, though.

My grandma, being 90 and having frequent issues with memory, doesn’t remember who Edward actually is. My parents told her but she had forgotten and it was probably for the best. 

My grandma is impressed with Edward, finds him to be a proper, handsome gentleman type. She also was very grateful for the gifts he brought her.

Edward is very patient with my grandma, which I know isn’t easy due to her memory problems. But he is very relaxed, behaving pretty much like he does around me.

We all have dinner and chat, and the tension in the air lightens. My parents even laugh at a few humorous comments from Edward. He thanks my parents for allowing him to visit and for the wonderful dinner, and offers to help my parents clean up. 

Good. This gives my parents time alone with Edward which, as nerve-wracking as it is for me, is something that needs to happen. They need a one-on-one with my boyfriend...and hopefully it didn’t turn into a mess.

I stay with my grandma and act like everything’s fine as I anxiously wait to find out what my parents will ultimately think of Edward.

They are upfront with him once they’re alone with him, asking him if he’s putting up some kind of act or if this is all really him. They also ask if he genuinely cares for me or if he’s just using me because I’m “young and pretty.” They don’t hide their feelings, my parents, and they are concerned for my safety and happiness above all else. They NEED to know that Edward is good to me despite being Riddler. They can’t tell me who to be with but it would put their mind at ease if they were assured I was in good hands.

Edward is honest with them. He isn’t putting on a front. He is gentlemanly by nature with people he likes and respects, and he’s a bit old-fashioned in some ways anyway due to his age. He doesn’t fake his feelings for anyone, and while he does want my parents to accept him as my boyfriend, he knows it’s not an easy choice. He also tells them they have every right to reject him, and he won’t hold a grudge towards them about it if they do. 

If anything, he’s earned scorn more than kindness due to how he’s lived his life, and that’s fair. He accepts that.

But then he explains that no, I am not eye candy for him. He’s not a play boy looking for a “good time.” He’s serious about me and feels things towards me he’s never felt--never expected to feel. I’m the one thing in his dark and violent life that is bright and soothing, even though he’s done nothing in his life to deserve such a sweet and caring partner.

He tells them that I’m always protected and cared for, and he has made arrangements to ensure I’m still protected and cared for if -- or more realistically, when something happens to him. 

Being Riddler’s girlfriend has its perks. No one messes with me, that’s for sure, because they know I’m important to him, and they know what he is willing to do to keep me safe.

As scary as that is to hear, my parents find some relief in that. Yes, Edward is The Riddler, a criminal mastermind who strikes fear into many. However, he takes care of what is precious to him -- and not much is precious to him. Actually, nothing is save for me. I bring him a lot of joy and much-needed peace, and he’d give his life to protect me. 

I deserve to be happy, he tells my parents, because I am a good person unlike him, and he works hard to make sure I know I’m loved and cared for, that I’m good enough and that he has no intentions of leaving me or cheating on me for someone else.

Edward also assures my parents that, should they need anything, he can provide. Of course, he won’t force his help on them but he won’t ever turn them away either. He looks out for those that mean a lot to me, who are close to me, regardless of who they are and how they feel about him. That is a promise he makes to my parents, too.

He also comments on how they have been taking care of my grandma pretty much on their own for a couple years now, and he knows from what he has observed and from things I’ve told him that it is a very exhausting duty. It’s an admirable one, though, for sure, and he respects my parents for being good people. 

He sees where I get my kind nature, he tells them.

He says that he can pay for live-in help for them, like a live-in nurse, someone who can help take care of my grandma and let my parents have a break every now and again. Also, should she need anything that isn’t covered by her insurance, he will cover the costs.

Same goes for my parents, who aren’t the healthiest people in their old age (Edward has the regenerative properties of the LOTUS virus on his side -- they don’t). He doesn’t tell them that obviously, that they’re unhealthy, but he says should they need any expenses covered for treatments, medication, etc., he can provide.

Because he is THAT serious about me.

My parents are, to say the least, much more confident in my relationship with Edward now that they’ve talked with him one on one. They give him their blessing, so to speak, to be my boyfriend, and appreciate his generosity. They do ask for help with live-in aid for my grandma, and Edward says pick who they want and he’ll pay whatever insurance won’t cover. 

I am beyond relieved that my parents have decided to accept Edward, and am so grateful to him for offering his help to them...because they need it and deserve it.

He tells me it’s no trouble at all, that whatever makes me happy makes him happy, and he’s more than willing to aid those that are important to me.

Edward and I stay over Christmas Eve so we can spend more time with my family on Christmas Day. We get the guest room which has a small bed, so we’re “forced” to get close.

Of course, I can’t resist tempting him even now, and he doesn’t turn me down. I do warn him that we have to be careful because, hey, my folks are here in this house and I’m not the quietest lover.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he tells me with a smirk. “I came prepared for any eventuality.”

Needless to say, I need to be gagged because Edward makes sure I have a Merry Fucking Christmas -- literally -- and also makes sure I know how much he both loves and desires me.

We decide to leave out the whole Dom/Sub aspect of our relationship in regards to my parents. 

We also don’t tell them about how I call Edward, “Daddy” almost any other time 👀👀👀👀💦💦💦💦💦💦

My mom also refuses to believe he’s 60 years old because he’s so good-looking  😄

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 271: My Hero Tokodemia

Previously on BnHA: Mic was all “goodbye X-Less don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and just LEFT him with Tomura, like. ???! X-Less was all “I’m gonna sit here and do nothing and wait to die.” Ujiko was all “this has nothing to do with ANYTHING but I just want you to know that I conspired to murder your husband 15 years ago and ended up killing his best friend instead!” Tomura was all “what up bitches I’m in this chapter too” and had trippy dreams about hands and buildings and his family was there and also All for One (the dude)! Because guess what, Tomura has All For One (the quirk) now! Because AFO gave it to him! So yeah! And now he’s waking up, and Deku can apparently feel it happening because he’s a horcrux probably, and so basically everything is FINALLY GOING TO SHIT AND IT’S ABOUT TIME BUT ALSO AHHHHH.

Today on BnHA: SHIGARAKI WHO TOMURA WHAT. Back to Gunga Mountain! So Dabi is all “you do know your beloved mentor just killed a guy right?” and Toko is all “!!” and Dabi is all “SO THAT MAKES HIM THE WORST CRIMINAL OF ALL!” and, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF IRONY, IMMEDIATELY follows up this bold statement by TRYING TO BURN A CHILD ALIVE. Anyway so this is why Dabi wasn’t the keynote speaker at the “murder is bad” convention though. So most of the chapter is like this, with Dabi (albeit somewhat halfheartedly) trying to set Toko on fire while Toko desperately tries to keep between him and Hawks. Eventually though, Dabi is confusingly thwarted by Otter Pops, making his triumphant return and spraying a bunch of ice just every which way because things weren’t chaotic enough I guess! And then the chapter ends with everyone’s favorite Guy They Hoped Wouldn’t Be Waking Up In This Arc, Gigantomachia, waking up!! :’) :’) :’) etc you get it.

okay so I am please to clarify that the spoilers I received were not actually all that big of a deal, and that pretty much all I know is that we’re cutting back to Dabi and Tokoyami probably, and there’s a good chance we might not even see Tomura at all this chapter in spite of last week’s cliffhanger. so even if I’d have preferred not to know that up front, it’s all good! though I will say Horikoshi has a real knack for cutting away from things right when you’re at your most invested though. reminds me of what it was like reading Lord of the Rings for the first time. “nooo I don’t want to cut back to Frodo -- WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON -- NO I DON’T WANT TO CUT BACK TO MERRY AND PIPPIN DAMMIT -- WAIT WHAT”

anyways! lol guys guess what

so then! those spoilers did indeed have the ring of truth! well this should be interesting

lmao he’s forcibly clawing his way out of Fat’s belly via aggressive use of Dark Shadow oh damn

oh man you guys. time to catalog some feels

Fatgum you do realize you were in the running for #2 hero but have now bled serious points by letting a child run back into danger and doing absolutely nothing to stop him! although to be fair you do have other children to protect, and this one child also should not have been able to do what he just did! and also Child Endangerment is U.A.’s unofficial motto and you didn’t even go to U.A. but you would fit right in though let me tell you. but anyway so the point is this isn’t really anything new, but still

HIS BODY JUST MOVED BEFORE HE COULD THINK ahhhh Toko. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT!! THE MY HERO TOKODEMIA ARC BEGINS NOW

I hope we get a followup panel of Kaminari freaking out and trying to go after his pal (but not actually succeeding though, because I swear to god Fatgum, if you fuck this up again all of my remaining goodwill is just gonna fly right out the window. and it’s a lot of goodwill too! but we don’t screw around when it comes to children’s safety!!). just would be a nice touch! ah well if they don’t show it I’ll just headcanon it

last but not least, it’s also worth noting that while I love how brave and selfless and concerned for his mentor’s wellbeing Tokoyami is here, this was still an incredibly stupid move on his part! least of all because he actually had no idea that Hawks truly was in danger. is it weird to say he lucked out? “you’re so fortunate your teacher actually was being burned alive you reckless little goose!” but like, you know what I mean though right

anyway

-- oh they are showing it!!

YAY HE IS A GOOD BOY. THAT IS ALL. CARRY ON

Toko’s shouting over his shoulder that Hawks is “probably” in trouble. for fuck’s

I mean yeah, it’s probably just some gut instinct which funnily enough happens to be absolutely right. but I’m sorry you guys, there’s just this small part of me that just can’t get over the fact that he briefly saw Hawks flying for all of .2 seconds, and saw some flames, and just IMMEDIATELY leapt to the worst-case-scenario conclusion. you know what this is? it’s the decision-making process of a kid who is actually WAY more powerful than we’ve been giving him credit for. enough so that his self-preservation instincts don’t even kick in at all because it doesn’t even occur to him how dangerous of a move this is. goddammit Tokoyami. you kids think you’re all grown up now and ffff just please be safe

and okay, I’ll give Fatgum some benefit of the doubt for just letting that happen because apparently this is literally the first and only time

seems he didn’t even think it was possible up until now. so that’s fair

OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT FATGUM YOU ARE REDEEMED

THAT’S RIGHT!! YOU DON’T JUST UP AND LEAVE THE FATAXI WHENEVER YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT. FARE DODGERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW!!

so he’s immediately following after him, but is smart enough not to put the other kids in danger! good split-second decision-making there. certain other people in this chapter could take notes! and of course my one fear now though is that the other three children will not listen to him at all, but you know what, let’s deal with one thing at a time

hmmm

dammit Horikoshi, what...?? you really like to toe the lines of what is and isn’t problematic huh? literally if you wanted to go for a cool barbarian look all you had to do was stick with the same kind of costume scheme you had going in the second and fourth popularity polls. but no, you had to go and give him a fucking war bonnet. was that one guy back in the Hero Killer arc not enough. at least this is only a cover page, sigh

also I see that Tokoyami was asked to name his own feature chapter. I’m just happy that he’s happy

would you fucking look at this

first of all, why is Dabi suddenly twenty feet away from them. and second, would you just look at how ridiculously intact Hawks fucking is. Dabi really was microwaving him on the defrost setting only huh

so now everyone’s just looking at each other. sizin’ each other up and stuff

yeah no shit it’s bad. you rushed in thinking you could somehow handle a situation which had even the second strongest guy on the ropes. and handle it alone, no less. lord help me why are the bravest ones also always the most stupid

EEP

HIS WINGS??? also his fucking BACK jesus christ. meaning he’s completely immobile for now at best, and probably soon to be in critical condition and going into shock if he isn’t already. okay so maybe it wasn’t just the defrost setting, fuck. Hawkssss 8|

oh???????

holy shit. an opportunity to actually find out how much of a bastard Dabi actually is?? we of course know he had no problem whatsoever with kidnapping a kid back in the day. but would he go so far as to seriously fight and/or try to kill one? a kid who’s no older than your little brother?? oh gosh oh golly oh intrigue

I literally have not made up my mind on Dabi redemption one way or the other, just to be clear (he’s just been too mysterious up till now and I feel like I don’t know enough), so I am super curious to see how this plays out so I can finally form an opinion!

OH SNAP

SCORE ONE FOR “HE MAY BE AN A-HOLE, BUT HE’S NOT, AND I QUOTE, 100% A DICK”? MAYBE?? but on the other hand he’s definitely not just gonna let Hawks go either so ahhhh???

(ETA: so it seems we’ve arrived at a solid “mildly bastardish!” idk. it definitely seems to me like he’s trying not to murder this teenager for no good reason. ironically he’s in much the same position here that Hawks was less than a dozen chapters ago; facing against someone who’s just trying to protect his friend, and trying to talk him down at first, but then attacking once it’s clear that he’s not going to back off. ah well. still as morally gray as ever.)

ah I see, we’re gonna start by shattering his naive illusions!

(ETA: fucking christ, the scan is so dark I didn’t even notice Twice’s charred corpse just LYING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND the first time I read this. and now that I have noticed it, I would just like to say, sincerely, what the fuck.)

welp, there it is. finally the kids are getting properly involved in this arc, and AS EXPECTED, they are promptly being traumatized. oh Toko ;_;

Dabi this speech you’re making would feel more original if literal scores of tumblrs hadn’t spent the last two months exhaustively analyzing every single last possible angle of this debate lol. everyone has already made up their minds on the “is Hawks worth saving” controversy one way or the other but okay sure, go ahead and throw your hat into the ring too

lmao whaaaaaaat. “as a last resort, after his attempts to take him peacefully were thwarted, Hawks killed a man so as to prevent that man from killing countless others during our coup to take over the country because our boss wants to destroy everything. clearly, Hawks is the worst out of everyone else involved in this equation!” now that! is a take! lol

OH NO OH GOD

“PEW PEW PEW ENJOY THOSE FEELS” HORIKOSHI WHOOPS WHILE SHOOTING LASER GUN FINGERS AT ME, AND HEY, NOW

HEY, I SAID!!!

WHAT THE FUCK -- WHAT EVEN IS THE FUCKING SCREENPLAY FOR THIS THING?? “A BARELY-CONSCIOUS HAWKS MURMURS HIS STUDENT’S NAME WITH AN ACHINGLY WEARY LOOK OF SHAME AND REGRET! AS DABI LOOKS ON, TOKOYAMI GENTLY LIFTS HIS FALLEN MASTER AND WRAPS HIS CAPE AROUND HIS BACK, LOOKING OVERWHELMED, BUT DETERMINED. TOKOYAMI: I’M JUST... CONCERNED FOR MY TEACHER.” who the fuck wrote this shit and how much pleasure were they taking in ripping my heart out and violently slamming it against the wall

sob, and unfortunately Dabi doesn’t look particularly moved himself by any of this

DAMMIT DABI PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. GO AWAY AND HAVE YOUR REVENGE SOME OTHER DAY GODDAMMIT

DABI!!

Dabi I swear to god!! if you seriously try and burn my gothbird son I will...

DABI WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY. LEAVE THE KID ALONE

Tokoyami... sweetie...

IF ONLY YOU COULD JUST. fly back out?? the exact same way you came??? if only that was a thing you could do??? or can he not fly while he’s carrying another person, maybe? dammit I forget

?!

wait what?? is he implying that Dabi isn’t seriously trying to kill them yet? is that what this is? I should just read on since this is clearly only the first part of something longer that he’s saying and I have to stop this bad habit of trying to analyze half a sentence before I go on and read the rest of the sentence

well whatever it is, he’s absolutely right; Dabi as it turns out is still standing there 25 feet away like a social distance champ, monologuing from afar

this panel gets more hilarious to me the longer I stare at it you guys. someone please make a comic where Hawks is all “he’s still talking...” and Toko looks to see Dabi RAMBLING ON and slowly inches further and further away while Dabi completely fails to take any notice lmao

so Tokoyami is just staring back, and then suddenly he’s all “orders from Hawks!” which I think is just him asking Hawks what to do now??

and fucking look at this lol

“just slowly inch away while he’s monologuing. I just found out he’s secretly a Todoroki so now I know his weakness: he will literally drop dead before he ever stops being dramatic”

OH MY GOD

ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS ISN’T A JOKE AND THAT’S HIS ACTUAL WEAKNESS LMAO. HAVE WE CROSSED PLANES INTO SOME KIND OF SATIRICAL REALITY. WHAT IS HAPPENING

LMAO OKAY NO HAWKS IS SAYING THAT DABI IS JUST BULLSHITTING THEM BECAUSE HE’S USED UP ALL HIS FLAMES OR SOME SHIT. LOL OKAY THEN. ALL I HEARD WAS “HE WASN’T ABLE TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE HE NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP.” WHERE IS THE LIE

OH SNAP THERE HE GOES

he is running away in the background, right?? Dark Shadow is just a distraction? you better not be seriously trying to fight him oh god please be smart about this

okay yes good!!

bringing back some unpleasant memories of the last guy who took a tumble off this balcony, but whatever! I’m sure he’s got some kind of plan in mind here

yep okay so he’s using Dark Shadow as a bungee cord

Hawks is so fucking short he somehow looks the same size as this little bird hobbit who’s carrying him. this is just a battle of tiny, tiny people

OH MY GOD FUCKING OUCH OH GEEZ

I FELT THAT OH MY GOD

AND OF FUCKING COURSE THAT KO’D HAWKS FOR GOOD, BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS A FUCKING BACK, AND HE JUST TARZANED OFF A BALCONY AND TOKOYAMI LANDED RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM JESUS CHRIST. R.I.P.

TOKO IS ALL “HE MUST HAVE BLACKED OUT FROM THE IMPACT JUST NOW” AND YEAH, YOU THINK?? WOULDN’T YOU?? FUCK

OH MY GOD HE’S PICKING HIM UP AND HE’S SO FUCKING TINY OH GOD OH JESUS

STOP BEING DRAMATIC AND JUST CARRY HIM OUT OF THERE ALREADY CAN WE GET A MOVE ON PLEASE? YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD BUDDY AND I’M SO PROUD, BUT ALSO THE REST OF THE LEAGUE IS STILL OUT THERE AND NOTHING IS SAFE AND AHHHH

-- AND ALSO THIS GUY STILL!!

no doubt. no doubt whatsoever the blood that runs through those veins. the theatrics are more of a dna marker than the flame quirk could ever be

also!! ARE WE SURE HAWKS IS ACTUALLY TWENTY-THREE?? COULDN’T THE HPSC HAVE FORGED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE?? THIS IS A BABY PROVE ME WRONG??

anyway so since Dabi is now saying “joke’s on you, I can still use my flames whenever the fuck I want,” I’m going to take this as confirmation that he really was keeping his distance just so he could utilize forced perspective. I’m going to make a post about this as soon as I’m done reading lol

HORIKOSHI WILL YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE ENDLESS CLOSE-UPS OF A FRIGHTENED TOKOYAMI CLINGING TO HIS UNCONSCIOUS MENTOR SCARED BUT READY TO PROTECT HIM WITH HIS LIFE I REALLY CAN’T???

DABI’S REALLY OUT HERE TRYING TO BURN THESE LITTLE BABY CHICKS ALIVE. WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING CHILL MY DUDE

OH MY GOD

SOME KIND OF CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED AHHHH WHO

AHHH MT. LADY?!

(ETA: ngl, I’m still not sure how I feel about this sequence of panels but I did laugh good and hard though.)

-- holy shit that was ice??! oh lord don’t tell me

yeppp, looks like it’s our old buddy Dairy Queen back at it again

look... Geten?? is it?? nothing against you personally. but I have a deep-seeded and enduring dislike of everyone from the Meta Liberation Army still and that includes you pal

that being said, did you inadvertently save Tokoyami’s life, though? I originally thought those were just ~anime shockwaves~ from some off-screen attack, but if that was all actually ice, it looks like you might have cut Dabi off. which I approve of! but also that’s some serious friendly fire you tomfool

so he’s yelling that he’s disrupted the heroes’ siege, which it looks like he has! very sloppily, but still

and also, way to have both of your fire users currently 80km away, hero team! you knew Geten was here, no?? who even planned this

now this Bleach-looking dude is sneaking up on Gang Orca with what looks to be a hole-punching quirk which is freaking me out a bit ngl

Gang please take him out with your famous yeet as soon as possible, I don’t know if I can handle a prolonged fight against this particular quirk

YES TOKO GET THE FUCK OUT!!!

there is no fucking way this kid is anywhere near his twenties incidentally I might add. none at all. we’ve been had

NO STOP FEELS

HE’S CRYING JESUS CHRIST HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HIS TEACHER IS HURT AND DYING MAYBE AND THE VILLAIN SAID HE KILLED SOMEONE AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, HE STILL WANTS TO PROTECT HIM AND HE’S JUST A BABY TOO?! IT’S TOO MUCH??

AND I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SURPRISED OR SHOCKED BY ANY OF THIS AT ALL?? LISTEN UP EVERYONE, YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND INSIDE OF THIS BAG IN THE FRIDGE WHICH WAS LABELED “CHILD SOLDIERS LIFE-OR-DEATH BATTLE ARC.” THE CONTENTS OF THIS BAG... MAY SHOCK YOU

lmao yeah but GUESS WHAT! I’M STILL GONNA GET ALL WORKED UP OVER IT AND I’M EVEN GONNA LIKE IT! but also. my babiesss

oh for fuck’s sake this guy still??

okay so I’ve already scrolled down enough to see the very top of the last page after this, and I’m pretty sure that’s Gigantomachia’s hair lol. please don’t tell me the radio is still on and he heard Tomura’s voice oh fiddlefucks

YEP

:’)

welp. strap yourselves in, chums. 19 chapters in, and this arc is only just beginning

[misterbitches]

I ship muren and li cheng bc i only saw it through gifs then i watched this episode cos i was like im only starting this show if they kiss im waiting and they did and it was nice and i got so anxious that i was about to fucking vomit. I really like them together. The top/bottom shit is dumb and i hope if they must mention it they all build a bridge and get over it so they can switch cos who gives a shit. I didnt realize how large they all are like most “tall” men on tv are lying. But bc that kid is so thin and tall and the other one (idk the stepbrother) is huge too. Li cheng is shorter than them both but more ~manly~ but still short so why doesnt he take a DICK UP HIS BUTT XD since that’s all that fucking matters and there’s only 2 genders and 2 eays to have sex lmao so nothing else otherwise ur screwed

Hd a terrible past couple of weeks personally and because i keep seeing my peopl eget murdered and things ripped from us ^_____^ anyway here’s Some libertatrian communist dumb bitch discoars so i’ll tag it:

keep in mind these are my opinions’”” when i engage in discourse. I am not the end all be all and I don’t need you to agree. There’s some shit I am non-negotiable on but thsi is just exchanging of information. Any authoratative tone I take on comes from my beliefs, my life, my experiences, and what I choose to cultivate as a person and an artist. I dont have control over your feelings, you do. If it hurts you then either tell me the issue and be PRECISE about it, understand that context matters which is why i type so much in engagement, and do not fucking lie or misconstrue my words. Do not call me western ever in your life either. I am a black-american. I have adhd and bc i am a black woman if ur automatically thinking im brolic i am accepting money in my paypal for ur wellbeing to get me to shut the fuck up.Thanks.

The stepbrothers storyline is stupid and lazy writing. I really want to counter people that say it’s written well and that it’s interesting because it isn’t. Even if it was illicit and fucked we can write a story out about this. Let’s rethink what they could have done shall we:

- become stepbrothers at about 16 and their parents mismanage the relationship and they fail in trying to get an integrated family together (this is what happened in the #iconic transit girls and that was fuckin’ weird but hey dude guess what we watched it and it was weird but not unethical and we know one is like 19 and the other is 21 and a girl so it’s like wow you avoided so much and handled their stepsister story very…….um lightly given the end lmao but it was there and people had AGENCY)

-OR you realize that freak is obsessed with him and then he realizes it and is like “bitch i swear to god” and in typical shtity trope BL fashion they can find a way from obsession, to loss and independence when you lose your obsession, to “love” if they choose

- have the fucked up shit but make it clear what the issues are and you literally cannot write your way out of it so do not try

But why can’t fucked up things be shown? Also this is realistic.

0. Well according to you but no one said that they can’t. So that’s on your interpretation of critique (that is, again, not bullying or harassment.) They can, i just gave plenty of scenarios in which it is affective and not just annoying to witness, trope-y, and frankly ridiculous and offensive. Sorry! They don’t do it well. You can come up with alternatives too. See #2 btw.

1. No it isn’t doing a good job of reflecting life because life has consequences. The exaggeration in drama doesn’t mean the arc shouldn’t be there. Almost always things that aren’t heavy with the message or meant to be sobering in a deep way are COMPELLING. The realism is the basis for art because we are human. This is not the way real humans act.

Someone said Tharn Type was mature and I had to laugh because no, no one acts that way and is “in love” if they act that way that means they fucking hate each other and they’re immature and frankly it’s just not that interesting for many of us to watch because the dramatization of the “realism” is fucking bonkers. That was such poor writing it is unbelievable and someone has the audacityt o say it’s how real adults act. Fucking murder me if I’m with someone for 7 years and we break up over a miscommunication and for some reason I am not as horny as my always horny boyfriend. The fuck? What kind of lives do you lead? Either you are not an adult or you are an adult who needs therapy.

I also hear the “realistic” argument but then people try and temper it with “but also it’s fiction.” What do you think fiction is? Why do you think filmmaking exists? Number one, it’s propaganda in the sense that you want others to buy into your presentation and see what you see. That means that the creators are telling people and influencing them WITH ART BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT IS about their feelings around a situation. That’s why it is imperative to be responsible as a filmmaker and artist and underline the deepness of creepiness if that’s what they want. If they want to relay that rape sometimes ok and psychos are crazy so they get boy (??!?!?!? BITCH?) then they achieved it with no innovative information. We know people get raped bc we are human beings and many of us live with that fear. You know, being the target demo and all. And bc BL loves that trope it’s rape fantasy peddled to young people and women. Just like shitty wattpad fics or NYT best sellers. Hooray, what now? Or are you trying to purport that this isn’t glorified fanfiction? Which it literally is

2. This is the issue with these shows. No one is saying that fucked up shit cannot be shown. There’s a film about a woman who is raped and she falls in love with her rapist (because he was masked but i think we find out later that she knows. Binoche is in it.) I have no desire for that film—i think it’s by a man and i extra dont care—but I hear it’s sort of powerful for many. I heard it was a good film. But the act itself is always eschewed and the conflict comes from how fucking ridiculous it is especially finding out that she knows. The power imbalance adn the possibility. They may not have handled it in a way I would have cared for but it was there.

There’s simply no imagination because these people do not care that much and aren’t great writers and filmmakers because they simply do not have to be. Sorry.

The industry doesn’t rely on the best they rely on efficiency (this is everywhere.) You can tell by the camera angles, the editing, the camera itself (idk if it is multicam but the flatness is typical soap flatness without the glowboxes to soften their faces.) Simple constant lighting. Now the surroundings are mostly beautiful. But even to some of the costumes. And those edits are abysmal, some of that camera work.

So with all that said even with the couple I extremely enjoy I see its (H4) faults. Add into that a lazily thrown together “shocking” love and if they are trying to get us to feel a type of way about its sexiness they fail. This is why movies like 50sog, 365 days, etc aren’t enjoyable to people because it’s fucking strange situations that they dont want to entangle or make enjoyable to viewers across the board. They know what people will take. It’s just that bitch what are we here for if even the sexiness isn’t there for ur stupid story.

At least with that teenager and 30 yr old man in MODC (which i do not love but i like them in theory if it wasnt totally repulsive to me and also if it was developed in a way that was good TO ME) they had their, er, “sex appeal” i talk about this as well the main couple in MODC to me, visually, was a miss. Not bc whatshisface was small and stuff but bc he was so sickly and they needed that to propel the story but it was just not appealing given how the story progressed. A missed opportunity in tying the two together besides making him look waif-y and sickly only to have the “did ur mom die in a car crash? No, cancer” type of move in not another teen movie. But the opposite. And not funny. Wayne tho????? GORL. Eggs. Cracked.

fandoms have a very warped sense of harrassment and discourse.

Most fandoms have harassers who are “protecting” the cast and crew who don’t need their protection (or maybe the crew does since they probably dont get paid well but why the fuck would anyone care about that lol) but very few have the people who have concerns or massive critique about the show are not going to be “bullying.”

If people are saying “if you like xyz, u suck” then sure it may suck for you to see but who fucking cares. Either talk to the person or don’t be friends with them. That is not bullying or harrassment. Things that are shitty get criticized. Fuck, things that aren’t shitty don’t. Get away from this idea of cancel culture and people misunderstanding the story. We have the ability to.

Think beyond your noses of personal preference. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them.

And guess what? You won’t like everybody. Many people can’t stand me i’m sure. Oh well. I mean frankly I don’t like that and I feel very unsettled when I don’t feel understood. That’s ok! I have to temper it. Sometimes calm myself down. I won’t get anything and everything I want. And you won’t like every opinion and sometimes it’s like “man am i a dummy?” But the part of growing up is fucking maanging that and beng honest about “bashing and harrassment” and “bullying” and growing up. Yuo can like what you want the “let people like what they want thing” is so fucking juvenile and THAT is not the real world. Which is probably why so many people feel that way, they dont want to live in the real world. Unfortunately, you do.

Think beyond our noses of personal preference and what we feel emotionally in conjunction with others. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. And you can say things that you believe to be true but it doesn’t make them so or maybe it isn’t received that way to people. And many times we learn new things in the discussions “oh shit i didn’t see it that way” right? Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them. Usually the “opposition” in these situations aren’t the popular beliefs that permeate through society. Trust me lmao

Antiblackness

Antiblackness is a thing. It permeates everywhere. It permeates in this genre and it permeates in fandom. Get it the fuck together. Also do not conflate cultural relativism with being repsectful. They are not barbarians, they are smart human beings either making work or deciding to. We all have diff cultures but we have fucking sense in what is respectful and not. And if we don’t we fucking learn. You cannot excuse things and say “oh culture” when you have 0 idea of that culture or actual people who are radical etc and are fighting against it. Additionally the word westerner is an ignorant term when referring to people in the US or UK who are black. Because we are not. We extend sympathy to other groups and empathy since we know so there is no inherent power imbalance between a black viewer and their subject. Don’t suggest that because it’s wrong and ahistorical and contextless.

FIRST the fallacy of representation as freedom makes people fucking complacent, individualistic, and doesn’t let them think critically. Consumption and discourse around consumption is not helping material conditions of the marginalized communities in your home, the black ones who are ignored, those intersectionalized in these communities. Groups talk about art and what it means for them outside of just what we see and because we also don’t have access to a bunch of Thai reviews or what movements or going on we are less likely to know if we don’t FUCKING SEARCH for it. Because art is constant...which leads me to....

Representation is difficult. It matters and it doesn’t.

Tthese shows are not meant to overturn the LGBTQ+ community.

There are queer filmmakers and artists in these countries. Deep illustrious film careers or even TV that is moving and deliberate. We can even see it with the dude from “your name engraved” in their short series he was in beforehand. BL is no wa pejorative because it is simply not “qu**r” storytelling whatever that means. But know it has always existed everywhere and there are also out artists or radical artists in all these countries who do no respect mediums that are cash-grabs and poorly made.

ex: As much as “Like in the Movies” sort of isnt for me and is a bit hamfisted you can tell how much love goes into that. Love of the characters, acting, and message. Yes it’s cringey to see some of the lines (like very tbh subtlety wasnt exactly their strong suit) and yea naming them after lenin and marx is just 0ihgoaudgijposkagjihou BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY FUCKING DID IT. THEY TRIED. And class was a large component as well bc u cant fuckin ignore it. The show is aware of the machinations in its world as a show but also in the philippines and for a fuckin reason. And duatarte? Loooooooool so like yea not so sure bl makes him love his ppl but the show isnt trying to do that

It’s not a transgressive genre and it has no reason to be. No ethical anything under the way we live it’s just trying your fucking best to be. That’s it. They serve societal ills and capital’s purposes. Which is fine but it is not revolutionary.

These countries in SEA or even SA do not have as big budget for even mainstream dramas—though things are changing and that’s bc REVENUE like revenue from kpop is fucking huge for SK and again so much about that is bc of what happened in their history from japanese imperialism to WWII to the US—so for “queer” stuff it is sort of now important to make that an export and it sure is one. Not only globally or to the west but a lot of these places make their money within asia (duh!) outside of their countries. OBVIOUSLY. so BL is a way to output and gain money. The thing is, it doesnt seem to be put back into the industry at all. For people in all these countries to make works that aren’t for mainstream or wont reach as many people there’s a difference between trying and just shoving shit in your face and going here it’s gay you like it right? But dont antagonize the inherent patriarchal nature of BL.

Another thing: did you guys know thailand was never colonized? You should look it up. There’s little hints of things in ITSAY to represent french influence still. Isnt that fascinating? Find out why. It’s certainly interesting that the representation, though damaging and dubious many times and also incorrect like any media, is huge in asia and this isnt a commodity here (the US) exactly. A lot of that has to do with colonial ideas of gender of which I am sure. But listen………lmao

Sometimes people dont give a shit. And it very much shows. Here is the thing once again. GOOD TRANSGRESSIVE WORK exists.

Een within the capitalist Bs paradigm or you can see people trying (I can sort of applaud parts of lovely writer) also queer media has always existed everywhere the reason you don’t know about it is because it gets takena nd commodified into a mainstream product. We hvae little incentive, particularly if we are not fans of cinema or art in gen, to search fror others when the output is right here. Being dictated by others and the state and who will give you money. No longer an effort of a cast and crew who want to convey things. But google [any country] independent cinema, radical cinema, queer radical cinema, or even retrospectives on the cinema and rethinking what is queer and radical in film. What if we took that, diluted it, got rid of the creators who put themselves through all the work, ignroe al the nuances and do……………….two actors who are conventionally attractive with no chemistry making out.

It’s the same here lets say daniel kaluuya winning the oscar for the film about the BPP. I heard it was okay and not too offensive but it still isnt’ enough. It still isn’t like hwood isn’t trash, nnati black, misogynistic towards BW and women, and all that other shit. It was pushy but it can’t be enough where we are. Black KKKlansmen i think won an oscar, by circumstance i fuckin hate these award shows they mean nothing, and i like the film a lot but he has his misogynoir still resting in his films even if it is poignant. And it was a film that honestly wasn’t really made for black people. And should all art be a response to direct trauma or trying to make ourselves palatable when we’re just human?

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ and it’s importance (capitalism) but also sorta individual responsibility

Considering a lot of these actors are rich and then just dip that’s another problem. Mainstream isn’t what sustains marginalized art ever. It doesn’t change in the vast ways we think it does. What changes is the people of these groups pushing, fighting, forcing and then capitalism trying to make it work under capitalism. It will not. It cannot.

This is why artists and labels often don’t mix or you see people like Sonic Youth doing whatever they want and pissing off their label but making them give them money. Same with Nirvana. Vince Staples. The thing is they can fight and make good shit but what capitalism helps people….not care? They don’t respect the audience? We’re getting those returns on poor executed product placement, lighting, editing, framing, fucking acting. And you surewon’t see mixed black asians in these shows. WHY R U is the oNLY one i have seen it in and he just disappears (but that was pretty cool.) so who the fuck is this representing? And before you start: asian countries are not homogenous the way we believe them to be. There are marginalized communities outside of even mixed people that are harmed. So you can skrrt cause on that one: you’re wrong buddy. But it gives us the IDEA of a paradise which is what they NEED.With representation and visibility comes consequence and responsibility as artists. What it allows them to do is coast and not think complexly because why should they; it’s mostly the fantasies of some older woman who probably has money and much less interaction with the world. It’s bonkers. And what that allows even further is for them to say YOU ARE THE THING THAT YOU CONSUME and the THING THAT YOU CONSUME IS YOURS. It is not, it is not your identity, form a close bond but figure it the fuck out. Especially for adults who are hellbent on twisting their minds into pretzels and can’t acknowledge what’s just laziness in art and not giving a fucking shit. Truly.

There’s damage that has been done from Parasite as he was supported by CJE&M and the bullshit obsession america had and eveyrone’s poor interpretation of it if they are rich. BJH is a socialist and he is a filmmaker. He has made films that are outstanding and cost a lot of money. But now a fear for indie filmmakers is just not being able to raise that much or have that much attention. Getting funding that helps them instead of expecting the Next Big Thing that is a fad because capitalism is trash. Yes this funneling of money is absolutely harmful to us artists. Even buying in is strategic. Additionally, that film is probs one of the most radical films to have that wide release and accolade (unlike “Sorry to Bother You” which i have a lot of thoughts about. One being that asian exports are acceptable but black ones are not. This is an overall art critique and global media critique. Blackness is removed, not respected.) However, filmmaking isn’t green, it can’t be socialist, and it’s a lot of work. They used tons and tons and TONS of water to do a huge beautiful feat but we still know there is a cost. We have to figure that out because it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t go back into the crew’s pockets the way it should and the work becomes that of the director’s and actors solely. It’s fucking hard. We have to do our part but it doesn’t mean we are doing it perfectly. We just have to try to do better. So does BJH cos he needs to not be a misogynist but anyways i digress.

additionally and this is something some users fail to understand: people in the media sphere generally have fucking money. I went to film school that was international with super fucking rich kids. Taiwanese kids, kids from south asia, china, thailand. They had money. No not upper middle class money, not “rich” money, not some paltry 1m that’s chump change. Fucking money. Fucking RICH-RICH. MILLIONAIRES. BILLIONAIRES. WHICH IS DISGUSTING MIGHT I ADD. The domestic people didn’t have the money for school (in the UK) and i am in a massive amount of debt like every other black student that went there. You do not understand how much money is needed to survive so people who turn to these crew positions even casting etc need this fucking money usually. OKAY. A lot of the people that do well in these dumb shows or even on a larger scale HAVE MONEY. The reason these industries are small and struggling is because of lack of people and lack of resources to independent shit because oh gee it takes money to make things.

Why should I try? Well you don’t have to really if you have money or a name. Yet...

We can tell when like those Tik Tok shows or DCOMs dont give a shit (anymore.) You know how frustrated we get when content for young people is garbage? Well, see, BL is literally that under that system. Occasionally we will get something good now but there is virtually no need in any sector in the world at this point to truly figure out how to make it better and what to do to enhance artistic literacy, outreach, teaching people new things, getting people from these communities there and having true realistic says. Art and culture is IMPERATIVE TO WORLD LIBERATION but not when it is so stiffly trying to bend to capital’s idea of progressiveness. No. Neoliberalism. No.

That’s why in a way ITSAY is a huge feat; it takes from films etc and they clearly had money (the actors rae rich too which….lmaooooo j’aime pas) but it was a respected fucking script, acting was important, blocking, framing. There’s very little to critique as a visual medium for that because I understand what they are trying to do, their market is going to be mostly young girls, but they RESPECT THE FUCKING AUDIENCE. And guess what guys? You can make money from it!!!! WOAH! Since that may be the only goal which is disgusting and repulsive.

HOWEVER AND THIS IS WHAT IS SAD: itsay is an ex of a great show however knowing the actors backgrounds and the pseudo trouble it stirred when they weren’t supporting people protesting against the coup in the summer it really put a damper on my enjoyment. And this is how we can see that:

a) it’s honestly just a show and a good one but b) now what?

These kids (actors, who are like idk 19? 20?) are rich and not saying anything while countless actors, who were filming, did. Even tul who has $$$$ and the thing is the protesting against the coup legitimately attacks the rich. As it should. The protests going on were cries for help, against a dictatorship and fucking coup, asking people to get fucking help for covid, having kids be able to live. There’s a mini on VICE about this and it probably doesnt go too in depth but there’s a kid in there who talks about his friends getting into drugs and how he just wants to make music, have fun, skateboard. And it’s harrowing to see. This is a direct example of what these things do and don’t do. Yea we know a good show is here, we know growing up and slice of life, we know this is a bit of escapism and idealism but the idealism is reflected in the way these actors also choose to live their lives. So what progress? To who? For who? How is this helping me? What purpose does it serve? I say ITSAY serves its purpose as a piece and a glimpse into possibility of growing up but i do not say it antagonizes a broader issue that needs to be relevant in some sense but simply is not. It’s very singleminded and, well, it’s sort of like “besides my sexuality, what do i have to worry about?” But for real humans like....a lot. I do not respect their decision at all.

Why can’t we do our jobs and make something decent and respect our audience? No time, gotta make that sweet sweet sweet cash baybee. Look how progressive we are! Don’t look at history and material conditions. Thanks in advance, management.

History 4 does not have that respect. Many of these shows do not. Sometimes we hit good, sometimes we don’t. But in the end we cannot settle. And I won’t. If I am critiquing something I will not be shy and if I am meant to enjoy something as escapism then these shows NEED to highlight that and it’s rare sometimes (the best twins is a good reminder like that show is bad but man do i Brain Empty when i turn it on and i like that and there’s not much in it that makes me want to kill myself from annoyance but there are transphobic jokes i dont love however the whole show is a comedy about this dude’s crazy homophobic sister and she is constantly positioned as wrong and they talk about the aforementioned trans women as the actor was in drag. Interesting that they can manage that, huh?)

Oh btw.....taiwan has a very complicated history but ignore all the bad stuff it’s good now you can kinda sorta get married and stuff. KMT? You know how i learned that? I care about human beings and read about it lmao. I am not Taiwanese and look at that. So now I have historical and DIALECTICAL~**~*~****~*~*~ context so i can judge it as an artist, a black woman from america, and from the knowledge i have to pick up on their history to see if this fits into a broader picture besides the micro-one of sexuality on an individualized level. And this is kinda where it comes full circle: these shows are not you, you are not them, they do not exist in a vacuum because nothing does. The failure to critique now means continuing on as it has and it will still do so. History and time are not linear in the sense we think it is. Someitmes things are better, sometimes things feel more austere. We are not living under liberation though and these shows are not going to do so. So they are not US nor are they for a nebulous “us” of which the groups are all fractured and have diff opinions anyway (my opinion as a black american is going to vary from an asian woman’s say and that could really clash and i do not feel solidarity with all those in every community i am for several reasons.)

Final thots that have taken up my time and the only thing i actually wanted to write but got distracted:

Anyway my dissertation is that I ilke Muren and LiCheng a lot a lot and i like how cute they are and how truly dumb li cheng is. This is an example of mostly good writing, decent actors, nice chemistry, and sort of a calmness to them. And I super enjoy how Muren is pretty forward with LC in the sense that being together is like very important to truly be together. When he was like “no i didnt forget!” Or when LC asked him something in the office I forget it was 6 am and again i almost threw up and muren nodded and then LC leaned on him. Very cute. I want more of them tho i may have to skip that othre couple (the cameo the ones from MODC) but omfg the younger one HIS HAIR GREW SO MUCH HE LOOKS SO MATURE AND CUTE OMFGIJ0HUG9SAOGIJPKOAGJSIOHUAGIJP hahhaha the one good thing i will say about THEM.idk how old the actor is i figure he was young idk it makes me happy to see him he’s very cute. I hope he’s in something i can watch and not gag at. Is he hot? Who knows but he is a cutie!!

Anyway muren and lc have a good thing going it’s nice to watch ho\pe they dont fuck it up but im truly a sucker for some true finds 2 luvas i think some user on her\e was like i’m not a fan of friends ot lovers bc it doesn’t seem like they’re actually friends and maybe they were referring to this show idk. But it made me think and it was a very good observation. So i think they are friends and also luvrs <3

[eldri-sv]

10 - Shinsou

Kaori Shinsou has always been fascinated by people's minds. She is one of the best students in her Criminal Psychology course at U.A. and - being the lucky girl she is - her professor is not only one handsome dude, but is also working on the case of the serial killer Stain - a case that has been going on for years. As she is about to become Professor Aizawa's TA during the next term, a lot of other interesting cases start popping up all over the country... AU, OC x Aizawa

Trigger warnings: insomnia, drugs, ignoring medical advice, parents being absent, insomnia

(possibly incomplete, if you’d like something added, please let me know)

I fear that I am ordinary just like everyone

(The Smashing Pumpkins - Muzzle)

It had taken Kaori Shinsou a long time and a lot of guilt tripping her parents to let her go home from the hospital. She just really didn't want to spend the whole night there, when she could get the same rest at home. At least in theory. She knew she wouldn't be able to get much sleep at either place, but at least she could chat to Hitoshi at home. Or she could work on her papers for uni.

But she'd be damned if she didn't show up to her lectures at university. She wasn't going to try and catch up on days of work on her own, hell no. In her mind, it didn't make much of a difference whether she was at home writing assignments and going over less than perfect lecture notes - since she really only trusted her own - or whether she was sitting in university, high on painkillers.

The thing that struck Kaori as interesting was how the painkillers in addition to the concussion made her really sleepy. Usually she could barely ever sleep, but now it seemed like her body was just so exhausted from everything that it was shutting down. She had barely made it through her first lecture in the morning. After that she had an hour-long nap in the library.

Right now she had her Criminal Psychology classes. She was wondering whether she should even bother turning up for them. Kaori was sure they hadn't found a replacement for Mr. Aizawa yet and there was no way that he was back. But then again, there was no text or email about the class being cancelled, so she figured it would be better to make her way over there. If no one turned up for the class, she could still have a nap in the classroom. Maybe she should have stayed home after all...

While she was walking towards the classroom she checked her phone. There were a few messages there, one from Hitoshi, one from her mum and another one from Uehara. She opened the messages with a yawn. Hitoshi had sent her a link to an online ad. When Kaori clicked on it, it led her to someone giving away kittens. Kaori looked through the pictures with a growing smile on her face.

She clicked out of her browser to return to the message. God, her brain felt like molasses. Was this what it felt like to take that cough syrup with codeine? Hitoshi had to take it once and he said he has had the best sleep in his entire life while on it.

>>Are you going to get one of those? They look extremely cute. 10/10, would approve.<< Kaori answered the message. She checked the second message Hitoshi had sent her.

>>How are you feeling? If you collapse and I have to explain to mum and dad why you were at school and not at home, I won't be your friend anymore.<<

>>I'm fine, Toshi. I'm tired af. I just had a nap for like an hour in the library, it was great. Sleeping is amazing, Toshi, why don't we do it more often?<< she replied. When she read over it again, she noticed it sounded a little weird, but she couldn't really be bothered. She had probably taken way too many painkillers at this point, but at least her head wasn't hurting anymore.

She checked the next message that she had gotten from her mother: >>Hey, sweetie, how are you doing? I hope you get a lot of rest and can catch up easily on your school work. Don't do too much! Love you.<<

>>I'm fine, mum! Got a good bit of rest just earlier. Don't worry about any assignments for my courses, I'm sure I'll be able to catch up quickly. Love you, too.<< Kaori replied. She grinned a little, as she sent the text. Her parents were blissfully unaware of her being at university. They'd never find out anyway, unless something went terribly wrong. Or if Hitoshi spilled the beans, but he wouldn't do that. Kaori knew him well enough to be sure of that.

Her parents were never home, anyway. Why did they even care how she was doing? They were both doctors at the hospital, which meant they worked long hours and did shifts all the time. It was a rare occasion for Kaori and Hitoshi to have a meal with both their parents. And when one of them was home, they were usually busy doing some other stuff. They had gotten used to it. And after all, they still had each other. Kaori often thought she wouldn't be as close to Hitoshi, if her parents weren't at work all the time. She effectively raised the boy, since she was 8 years old.

While she was trying to get to Uehara's message, she suddenly bumped into something. Or rather someone. Kaori stumbled backwards and looked up from her phone confusedly. Who the hell would be bumping into her? There was no way they could have not seen her, especially since she had a fat bandage on her head.

"Shinsou? What the hell are you doing here?" the man that had ran into her said. His face was completely covered in bandages and he had both arms in a cast. He had long black hair and... oh shit. That was Mr. Aizawa.

"Uh... I'm going to class...?" Kaori answered. She slapped herself internally for how dumb she must be sounding right now. It's the painkillers, she kept reminding herself. If I say anything too dumb I can always blame the painkillers. She looked up into her professor's eyes. He did not look happy.

"You should be at home and getting some rest." he told her. Kaori couldn't help but burst out laughing. She should be home and getting some rest? Did he look at himself, all bandaged up and whatnot?

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I think you should be getting more rest than me." she replied. How did they even let him leave the hospital that early? Kaori was sure, she heard Hitoshi say that he had to have surgery and all. How the hell was he even walking after all that? How was he doing anything?

"I'm fine. There are more important things than my wellbeing." Aizawa said. Kaori would have guessed that he had a very stoic look on his face, but she couldn't really see it, due to the bandages. And it kinda annoyed her, because Aizawa had a really damn nice face and it was a shame she couldn't see it right now...

"Damn, Mr. Aizawa, I wish I was as motivated about my assignments as you are about my education." she replied with a smug grin on her face.

"I wish you were that motivated about your assignments, too. You seem out of it, Shinsou, are you sure you're okay?" he asked. It almost looked like there was a trace of concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine. I just... I took a lot of painkillers. I don't have a headache, though, so that's good." Kaori answered. Aizawa nodded.

"Well, if you start feeling bad during class, don't worry about it. You can leave at any point, I'll know why. Now, we're already late..." he said. Kaori nodded enthusiastically and followed Aizawa to the class room.

He wasn't really walking, he was sort of limping, while trying to keep his balance with his two arms. Kaori wondered how he even managed to get dressed like that. Probably a girlfriend. Or a wife. Was Mr. Aizawa married? Kaori glanced down at his hands, but even if there had been a ring, she wouldn't have seen it with the casts. Damnit. She knew this would be in her head until she found out.

While she was following Aizawa towards the classroom, she decided to check on her texts again. There was that text from Uehara she didn't get a chance to have a look at and Shinsou had probably replied already. Her mum wouldn't have time to reply to any texts anyway.

>>Girl, I heard you've been seen on campus today. Shouldn't you be in hospital with Aizawa? Lowkey jealous of you about that, by the way. I wish I was in the same hospital as my hot professor.<<

Kaori blushed as she read that message. She looked up at Aizawa in front of her. God, Uehara had no idea how hard she was crushing on him right now. She always thought he was really handsome and all, but since the whole thing at the Rescue Training Facility, she was just seriously into him.

Uehara could never know, however. She wouldn't keep quiet about it and Kaori really didn't want things to be weird. Especially when she was supposed to be his TA next term. She had no idea how she would pull that off now. Uehara would definitely find out at some stage. The whole thing wouldn't be pretty.

She looked at her other messages. It was only Hitoshi who had answered her. He had replied to her message about the cats first: >>I still have to get mum and dad's okay, but I'm working on it. This household needs more cats urgently.<<

>>We don't sleep because we're fucking insomniacs, and sorry to break it to you, but you can't stay on painkillers forever.<<

>>Yeah, whatever. See you at lunch?<<

"Ahem..." Kaori heard Aizawa say. She quickly looked up and put her phone away. He was standing in front of the classroom door.

"Uh... Sir?" she asked, not sure what he was trying to say. He glared at the door and let out an exasperated sigh.

"It's really difficult to open doors with these casts... could you maybe...?" he answered and nodded towards the door.

"Oh! Of course, Sir." Kaori quickly replied and got the door for him. She really was being a dense idiot today.

[mainly-kpop]

Cuffing Season

JungkookXReader word count: 4k Warnings: Fluff and alcohol consumption  Summary: Usually, drunk people are quite fun to be around, always some cracking humour. Tonight you find out, Jeon Jungkook turned out to be more stupid than funny. 

‘Don’t you think we are a little old for these kinds of things?’ You question, turning off the television, knowing you weren’t getting to watch the rest of this documentary. Your friend sat on the floor in front of you, plastering make up on her face. She was beautiful without it; you didn’t see why she had to put this stuff on. Her short dress sat bunched around her waist, both of you far too close at this point to worry about panties on show. Supposing you did go; did you have to dress up too? You didn’t own make up anymore. It wasn’t something you needed nor had much time for anyway.

‘You’re only as old as you feel! Please put something pretty on; for me?’ She pouted, newly painted lips puckering into the only weakness you had. Her puppy dog eyes were something else, truly. Sighing with a grumble attached you stood from your spot on the couch, dragging your feet all the way to your bedroom.

A simple house party, so jeans would be fine right? Some comfortable shoes and of course, a nice top. A hoodie for warmth and comfort too though. Brushing your hair, you look over yourself in the mirror, 5 minutes, a new personal best! You commend yourself, throwing your hoodie over your arm, joining your friend once again in the living room. She looked you up and down, sighing at your appearance before turning back to her mirror.

‘Why are you not capable of dressing like a female?’ She tutted, fluffing up her hair before standing, straightening out her skirt and slipping her heels on. You look her appearance over, and truly, you looked like polar opposites. In your defence though, it’s better than the sweat pants you were planning on wearing all night.

‘You’re lucky I’m even coming, plus; I’m not a little whore like you.’ She dramatically gasped, slapping her hand over her barely covered breast. The skin on skin contact made a clap sound, making her clear her throat. She proved you right and she knows it.

‘I’d be offended, but it’s the truth.’ She sighed, grabbing her jacket, slinging it over her shoulder before following you to the front door.

The second you entered the party, a drink was thrusted into your hand, already showing you the exact way, this party was going to go. Taking the drink, you take a sniff, knowing not to trust these house party fuckers. Deciding to just risk it once, you take a sip, feeling the alcohol burn the back of your throat, Christ who taught these idiots to mix? Following your friend to the main room, you quickly lose her in the mass of gyrating bodies. You took this as your cue to step back, to head to the kitchen, maybe you could dilute this mess of a drink.

‘Jungkook, stand up man!’ He lectured, a couple others giggling behind him. Clearly, they were finding this hilarious, but Jin wasn’t. He sighed, trying to shove the cup of water into his hand, Jungkook protested, slamming his hand onto the ground, trying to stand himself back up. Instead he fell into the counter, slowly sliding back down to the ground.

‘I am perfectly sober Seokjin! I would appreciate it if you could back the fuck up!’ Jin groaned, running his hands through his hair. Snickering continued behind him, his eyebrows knitting together in anger.

‘You.’ He spun on his heel, pointing at the two boys left standing behind him. The giggling and laughing stopped abruptly, the two boys halting, standing closer together for some form of protection.

‘You did this, you deal with him for the rest of the night. This is your fault; you will sort it.’ He spoke, storming off back to the living room, apologising to you as he bumped into you on the way out. You heard a groan from the other end of the kitchen, both boys sinking onto the floor beside the boy you are yet to see.

‘Guysssss, I’m fine!’ He slurs, trying again to stand up, falling into one of the boy’s arms. He laughed with his whole body, slipping back onto the floor.

‘What the fuck are we going to do man?’ The shorter boy asked. The taller of the two groaned, standing and looking around the kitchen for an idea. His eyes landed on you mixing more cola into your drink.

‘Hey, you!’ Your eyes shoot up to look at him, raising your eyebrow at the way he just spoke to you. He cleared his throat, his other friend standing up from the floor. He looked between you and his friend, finally understanding what could be happening. If he could explain, that would be very helpful.

‘Don’t speak to someone like that. Gosh, how rude.’ You tut, putting the cap back on the bottle, placing it back where you got it. Taking a sip from your drink, you nod, finally happy with the balance now.

‘Sorry, sorry, You’re right. My name is Taehyung, this is Jimin and the idiot on the floor is Jungkook. Are you sober?’ You frown even deeper at the question; how did he get to that? How did this go from introductions to sobriety?

‘Oh, nice to meet you Taehyung, and you Jimin! Oh, my name? It’s Y/N, thanks for asking! Oh, I’ve only just arrived, yeah the party is pretty good so far, the drinks are a bit strong though, don’t you think?’ You ramble, Jimin giggled to the side of Taehyung, getting a swift slap on the back.  

‘Ohhh, bro she just roasted you!’ Jungkook cackled from the floor, dragging the two boy’s attention back to him. Yours followed also, feeling bad for the dude. Taehyung sighed, walking past you to the doorway, Jimin following closely behind him.

‘Where do you think you two are going? Weren’t you told to help him?’ You motion towards the man now crawling around the corner of the counters.

‘Do me a favour, put him in a bedroom and lock him in. He will sleep it off! OKAY THANKS!’ He shouted running out of the room, into the sea of bodies, never to be seen again. You went to chase them, but they slipped out of your grasp and sight. Sighing you walk back into the kitchen, Jungkook lying face down on the tiled kitchen floor groaning.

‘You good there bud?’ You ask, mildly concerned for his wellbeing. he tilted his head to the side to look at you, drool coating his left cheek, dopey smile plastered on his lips. He let a little giggle slip trying once again to sit himself up. You rushed to help him, not wanting him to crack his head on the flooring.

‘The tile is cold. Feels good.’ He mumbled, eyes closing slightly, he was kind of cute you suppose. Fetching one of the red cups, you fill it with water, putting it into his hand. He looked at the contents of the cup, squinting his eyes at you.

‘I’m not drunk, if that’s what you think.’ He slurs, trying hard to keep himself awake. You slump down across from him on the floor, taking a sip of your slightly less innocent beverage.

‘I know dude, got to stay hydrated, though right?’ The few sips you had before mixing this drink already had your head a little fuzzy, but not so bad that you couldn’t take care of this man child.

‘You’re right, I just wanted you to know. ‘Cos I’m not wasted, I’m totally sober!’ He spoke, tilting the cup to his mouth while he was still talking, spilling the water down his front. You stifled a laugh, watching him wipe his mouth. ‘That wasn’t because I was drunk, I totally do that all the time!’ He protested, taking a gulp of the water. You raise an eyebrow, downing the last of the drink in your cup. About five minutes passed, sitting in silence. He wasn’t a very chatty person when he was kind of sober, which was a shame really.

‘How did you manage to get so wasted? The party only started like 2 hours ago no?’ You question, nursing the second drink you had made yourself, head now a little bit dizzy.

‘I wasn’t drunk remember?’ He smirks, picking at the rim of the plastic cup. He sighed, taking a second to answer your question. ‘I live here, so we started drinking early, I can’t handle my drink like the rest I guess.’ He answered, still slurring slightly. You roll your eyes at the irresponsibility of these idiot friends he has.

‘Okay, let’s go upstairs, shall we?' you question, standing from the ground wobbling slightly. He put his hand out to catch you, climbing up from the floor too. You lead him up the stairs, picking a random room, he didn’t protest therefore, you assume it was his room. It was fairly clean, large bed off to the left, and an organised desk to the right. It seemed like a boy’s room, but far too tidy for men to be living alone together. He lay down on the bed, letting you look around a little bit more. That’s when you noticed the bottles of alcohol lined up on the shelves. You looked at the different kinds, everything from regular vodka to rum and whiskey. If this was his room, you couldn’t understand what he meant by not being able to handle it like the others.

‘Okay, well, I’m going to go now…’ You speak into the silence of the room, turning to walk out the door. Instead you bumped into a hard chest, cold metal linking around your wrist, clicking shut. He giggled like a toddler, lifting your joined wrists up.

‘Dude what the fuck?!’ You scream, shaking your wrist, the clanging of metal and his yelp of pain echoing through the room. The base from the music playing outside, blocked slightly from the door.

‘Please don’t leave, I can’t sleep alone when I’m drunk…’ He whines, but you could feel no pity for him right now.

‘You couldn’t just fucking say that instead of cuffing us you idiot!?’ You sigh, sitting down on the bed, subsequently pulling him with you.

‘I’ll stay but can you take these off please?’ You request, waving them in front of his face. His eyes widened, blush creeping onto his face.

‘Uh, I would, believe me but the thing is… This isn’t my room. It’s Jimin’s and there were no keys in the drawer.’ You groan, falling back, your one arm in the air, unable to relax due to him not moving. You needed to be drunk for this. So fucking drunk.

Standing up from the bed, you grab one of the bottles off the shelf, popping the cap. Jungkook stood beside you, looking at you as if you were going crazy. Honestly, you might be.

‘What are you doing? I told you this isn’t my room, so that isn’t mine!’ He whined, not wanting to get into trouble. You roll your eyes, taking a swig of the whiskey. It burned as it slipped down your throat, the smoky taste left in your mouth. You sighed at the familiar feeling, sucking your teeth.

‘Think about it babe, you were that wasted because of them, cuffed to me because they didn’t want to look after you. Get back at them, even if its just this one bottle we drink.’ You persuade him, wiggling the bottle in front of his face, honey coloured liquid swishing inside the bottle. He bit down on his lip, thinking hard about it for a second. ‘Fuck it.’ He spoke, taking the bottle out of your hand, taking a swig himself. You cheered triumphantly, dragging him back over to the bed.

You woke up, head pounding, light shining through the blinds. Why didn’t you close them? You always close them… This room didn’t smell like you, didn’t feel like your sheets. The bed was at a different angle and honestly, it was disorienting. Opening your eyes, you squint, rubbing the sleep out of them, only to find, you can’t move your left hand. Sitting up from the pillow, you take in your surroundings. The room was definitely not your own, the empty bottle of whiskey beside you was definitely not finished by only you. The boy to your left groaned, slowly waking himself up as you pulled your hand towards your face. The cold metal slipped down your arm, tickling the hair on your arms. Frowning you look down to your chained wrist, connected to the man beside you. A small yelp escaped your mouth, falling off the bed, pulling the man with you. His body weight landed on top of yours, pushing the air right out of your lungs.

‘Shit!’ He shouted, getting off you instantly, patting your back to help you. Regaining your breath, you run your hand through your hair.

‘What the fuck happened last night, why are we cuffed together? Actually, it doesn’t matter, just unlock them.’ He nodded, looking through the drawers, looking for a key. Unable to find them, he sits back on the bed sighing.

‘Wait, let me call Jimin!’ He shouted, fishing his phone out of his pocket. Dialling the number, he waited for him to pick up.

‘Dude do you know what the fucking time is?’ Jimin shouted on the other end of the phone, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

‘I don’t care, you know the handcuffs in your drawer? Is there a key?’ He questioned, while you sat awkwardly beside him on the bed.

‘No dude, pretty sure Taehyung stole them from some chick he fucked around with, why?’

‘No reason, thanks.’ He hurried, hanging up the phone instantly. You groaned, falling back onto the mattress.

‘What now?’ You question him, instead of giving you an answer, he lay down on the mattress beside you, both accepting defeat.

‘I don’t know about you, but I really fucking need the toilet.’ He spoke, making you shoot your head around to him. You sit up from your position, looking towards the joined toilet, realising now that you too; need the bathroom. What the fuck were you meant to do now?

‘How do we… I mean, how can I… how do I… fuck sake.’ You groan, standing from the bed walking towards the bathroom. You both stood looking at the toilet, not knowing what you were supposed to do.

‘Okay, if you turn around, and place your hand here it should be fine…’ He thinks, placing your hand where it had to be. It rested on his stomach, just above the line of his trousers. You could feel the stiffness of his stomach and honestly, it was making you feel a little bit hot. Before you knew it, he was done, and it was your turn.

‘It should be fine if I just turn around right?’ He questioned, you just nod, too nervous to say a word. You tried to pee as quickly as humanly possible. He tried hard not to laugh; he could tell how hard you were pushing to get this over with. Both washing your hands, you leave the room, walking through the streets into town.

‘Where should we go first?’ You question, looking down at the cuffs linking you together. He pulled his sleeve down, linking your hands together. Jerking yours out his grasp quickly, the cold metal cut into your skin, making you wince. He grabbed your arm, inspecting the red mark sure to become a bruise on your wrist.

‘I thought it would seem more natural to hold hands, you know, less like we are handcuffed.’ He spoke, letting your hand fall to your side beside his. Honestly, it made sense, you didn’t really want people to see that you were handcuffed to someone. It looks like a sex adventure gone wrong. Realising he is making perfect sense, you link your fingers with his, pulling him to a nearby café.

‘I don’t know about you but I’m starving.’ You say, sitting down at the nearest table, forcing him to sit beside you. The server gave you a strange look, it wasn’t so normal for couples to sit beside each other. Placing the order, you were left alone once again, forced to think about what you were going to do now.

‘What about a sex shop?’ He spoke, the waitress clearing her throat as she placed down your breakfast food, walking off while rolling her eyes. You couldn’t help but snicker, digging into your food.

‘That would make sense I guess; he did steal them from someone he used to have sex with. I don’t think these are sex shop cuffs, but its worth a shot.’

Your destination took you to your nearest sex store, both walking in looking terribly out of place. You step up to the counter, Jungkook busy looking at the harness to the side of the check out.

‘Afternoon kitten, what can I do for you?’ He purred, making you grip Jungkook’s hand. His attention turned to you instantly, noticing the situation fairly quickly. He put your linked hands on the desk, showing the cuffs holding you close together.

‘Can you unlock these?’ He questioned, having no time for this middle-aged man’s flirting towards you. The man snickered, inspecting the catch and serial number on the metal.

‘Unfortunately not kid. These are the real deal, meaning you’re locked in some police cuffs.’ The man confirmed making you groan, rolling your eyes at the mess you were in. Most importantly though; Taehyung stole police cuffs and didn’t think to steal the keys too!? You thank the man and ignore the shouts he gives saying he will see you soon.

‘Where now?’ You groan, sitting on the bench slightly down from the store. Jungkook rubs his chin for a second before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He dialled a number, drumming his fingers against the palm of your hand while he waited for the person to answer.

‘Tae thank god. Where are you?’

‘At some chicks house, ‘bout to sneak out though don’t worry.’ It seemed a bit late for someone to be doing the walk of shame. regardless, he kept the thought to himself.

‘That doesn’t matter right now, the cuffs in your drawers, are they real police cuffs?’ He spoke, urgency in his tone.

‘Oh yeah bro, cool right? I was fucking around with this officer and-‘

‘Where’s the key?’ Taehyung snickered on the other end of the phone, a door closing in the back. Jungkook could only assume he was sneaking out to head home.

‘Why Kookie? You stuck in a situation right now?’ Jungkook could hear the smirk in his voice, could almost feel himself smacking it off his friend’s face.

‘Just tell me if you have it or not.’ He sighed, meanwhile, you tried to think of a solution. You could always try a locksmith?

‘Na man, she gave me the cuffs as a memory not something to use. I don’t know what you want me to say, maybe you shouldn’t drink so much, then you wouldn’t be in this-‘ He hung up promptly, rolling his neck, frustrated. Of course, he knew he shouldn’t drink this much, but what was he supposed to do? Look like an idiot who didn’t drink because he can’t handle it?

‘Nothing?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Okay, I think I have an idea.’ You speak, standing you both from the bench, linking your hands together once more. You knew where the nearest locksmith was, having to get your key re-cut more times than you care to admit. You walk in, the man behind the counter greeting you like an old friend. A much better experience than the sex shop man.

‘We got ourselves into a bit of a situation and were wondering if you can help?’ The man looked at you confused, a little side eye flying your way. Jungkook raises your connected wrists again, the man laughing heartily as he grabbed your hands, lying them down on the counter in front of him.

‘Cuffing season I see?’ He joked, making you snort.

‘Yeah, something like that I guess.’ He looked over the cuff, examining the lock and checking the number on the sides. After a minute, he sighed, taking his glasses off his face, sitting them down beside him.

‘I can’t unlock these unfortunately, you would have to go to the police station. I know that’s probably the last thing you wanted to hear, but it’s the only option you have.’ Jungkook sighed, thanking the man before walking out the store with you.

‘Station?’ He questioned, already walking towards the direction of it.

‘If it is the only option we have, I guess it’s all we can do.’ You replied, dragging your feet behind him. His phone buzzed in his pocket, frowning he answered it.

‘Race you home kid.’ Tae’s voice came from the device. Jungkook rolled his eyes, stopping in place.

‘I don’t have time for this Taehyung.’

‘I went to the station and got the keys, explained my stupid housemate used them. Now like I said, race you home or stay cuffed to whoever it is for the rest of your life.’ Was the last thing he said before he hung up the phone. Jungkook’s eyes widened, running in the opposite direction instantly, you screamed out in pain, he halted instantly, turning around to check on you.

‘Shit I’m so sorry I forgot! Taehyung has the keys; we have to go.’ He whispered, trying to soften out the pain contorted into your features. You nodded, following him in the direction he was running off to.

‘Man, I am bursting for a pee.’ He tells you, making you laugh out loud. You were too, but you didn’t really feel like sharing the bathroom with him again. Not right now.

Arriving back at the house, you open the door to six boys sitting on the various couches, looking towards the door. Jungkook groaned, linking your hands once again and walking you over to the area.

‘Taehyung unlock us.’ Jungkook spoke instantly, not letting anyone put their two cents in right now.

‘Slow down, how did this happen?’ One of them spoke, you recognised him from last night, finally putting two and two together, you yelped in realisation.

‘HA! You! You told these two to look after Jungkook last night!’ You spoke, stepping forward. The man stood up, holding his hand out to you for you to shake it. Jungkook’s came with you as you shook.

‘Yes, that’s right, I’m Jin. Nice to meet you.’ He spoke before he frowned, still wondering what happened. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, what happened when I left the kitchen?’ He questioned, looking at your cuffed wrist.

‘These two told me to put Jungkook to bed. I did and he slapped the cuffs around my wrist. In conclusion, they are irresponsible, Jungkook can’t sleep when drunk and there is an empty bottle of whiskey in the room, we slept in.’ You replied, Jin held his hand out towards Taehyung, asking him to drop the keys into his hand.

‘We will talk about this later.’ He spoke sternly to them, Jimin pouting about his empty bottle of whiskey. Your wrists were unlocked, Jungkook running instantly off to the bathroom. You rubbed your wrist, hoping the bruises weren’t going to be terribly obvious.

‘Well, I’ll be going. Nice to meet you Jin.’ You smile sweetly at him, turning to glare at the other two you know the names of. They cowered into each other, making you smirk in victory.

‘Wait!’ You heard a familiar voice shout, feet thumping down the stairs behind you. Slowly you turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at him.

‘I was thinking, maybe do you want to go out some time. You know, not handcuffed to me?’ You smile to yourself, shrugging in response.

‘Sure, I know where you live, I’ll pop by one day. See you Jungkook.’ You smirk, turning your back on him, running down the path.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

That would be enough; Old!Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

Alright in honor of yet another Queen member’s bday this month one week after his friend and brother Brian, HAPPY 70TH BIRTHDAY ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR!! From all of us to you we hope you have a great birthday and always keep rocking and being your awesome self. Now this is my first time ever writing a current Roger Taylor fanfic so I hope I get it right and I hope you all enjoy this. So not really any warnings except swearing and a tad bit of angst but it’s all FLUFFY FEELS in the end. Enjoy my lovelies :)

Queen Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@waddles03

@coolcxt

_________________________________________________________

It all began in the winter 2016 when we were asked to perform live at the Grammy’s.  By we; I mean Adam Lambert, myself and Brian.  We were on the stage to wait the arrival of another artist we would be performing along with for the award show.  Apparently she’s a big name in America specifically on the Broadway spectrum. I would know because my daughters can’t stop listening to her recent musical she was in, “Hamilton.”

“Brian, Roger, Adam.” The producer called out to us. There walking beside him was a beautiful young woman around her early 30’s with (h/l) (h/c).  But what struck out to me was her eyes, she had the same blue eyes as I did, in fact she almost resembled me to a degree.  Hell looking back on all the times I dressed in drag, it was like looking at an exact copy. “I’d like the three of you to meet the performer you’ll be singing (y/n) (l/n).”

“Hello, I know you lot get told this a lot but—you guys were such an inspiration to me growing up. And Adam, you’ve got a range that I’ve never heard on any performer.”

“And what of you? Mrs. Eliza?” Adam vocalized which made her giggle.

“Hamilton fan I assume?”

“Girl are you kidding me? The second I heard about the album from a friend of mine I couldn’t stop listening to it. Your tickets are nearly impossible to get now.”

“I know. I never expected it to boom as it did. But as soon as Lin called me about the script and wanted me to be a part of it, I knew I had to get involved. It’s unlike any musical I’ve been in before.”

“I’ll admit my youngest daughter loves the show and couldn’t stop talking about it when we were in New York.” Brian spoke up.

“Oh wow I’m honored Mr. May.”

“Oh love, Mr. May was my father, please call me Brian.” The two shook hands with each other and she then turned to me. God she looked so familiar not just with my looks but she also had the looks of someone I once knew a long time ago.

“And the famous Roger Taylor. I must say it’s because of you I sought out the drums in my middle and high school band.” I snapped out of my daze and we shook hands with each other and said.

“I bet you were probably the best drummer there ever was.”

“Indeed, got my band to win Districts every year.” She said. “Would’ve gotten state champion my junior year of high school but unfortunately a few of the kids in the strings had to screw up the notes.”

“Been there before, mostly with this guy’s strings breaking.” I gestured toward Brian.

“Oh well forgive me but at least I wasn’t the one who forgot the lyrics to my own song.”

“I thought I told you to never mention that again!” I hissed leaving Adam and (y/n) to laugh.

“So shall we run some sound checks for a bit? I was told we’ll be performing after Pink.” (y/n) stated and we were all in agreement.

Throughout the day I couldn’t stop thinking about (y/n). Just the way she presented herself on stage just reminded me of someone but I just couldn’t figure it out.  After rehearsal one before the Grammys would begin in just 4 days, I sat in my dressing room when Brian came in and asked me.

“What is it mate? You’ve been out of sorts all day, what’s going on?”

“Brian, did…..did (y/n) look familiar to you?”

“You mean besides the fact she’s a Broadway star?”

“Brian I’m serious there was just something about her that just…..seemed familiar. Like I’ve seen her before.”

“You’re probably just overthinking this Rog, come and have a drink with Adam, (y/n) and I tonight. Adam’s buying this time after all.” I nodded and followed Brian to meet (y/n) and Adam outside.

We managed to find a nice restaurant pub nearby and as we ate a well earned late supper, Brian asked (y/n).

“So (y/n). How did you get involved with Broadway?”

“Well….it’s because of my mom. She was in Broadway, hell it’s been a tradition in my mom’s family. She was just a dancer but she was one of the best dancers according to critics.” At hearing that I choked on my water.

“Roger!” Adam exclaimed.

“Roger you okay?” asked (y/n).

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine just….went down the wrong pipe. Excuse me for a minute.” I raced out of the pub and into the fresh air as suddenly it occurred to me.

“Roger, what’s going on with you?” I heard Brian say.

“It all makes sense now. I should’ve remembered the last name, how could I be such an idiot?” I muttered to myself.

“Roger what are you talking about?”

“Do you remember when we did our last American tour at the start of the 80’s. And we performed at Madison Square Garden.”

“Yeah, where are you going with this?”

“Do you remember that Broadway show we saw? Umm West Side story I think it was? And I actually managed to hook up with one of the dancers.”

“Yeah (m/n). I remember you were crazy about her before you met Dominque.”

“I—I think the reason why she broke up with me was—because she was pregnant.”

“Hold on Rog. This is a serious allegation. You don’t think that (y/n) is…..”

“At first I didn’t get it but the more I look at her the more I see it. Brian she has my eyes, she’s almost like a reflection of me but with her mum’s hair. Brian I—I really think she’s my daughter.”

“So what are you going to do? You know you can’t just spring this up on (y/n) like this so suddenly.”

“I know, I know. I’ll….I’ll try to get alone with her and somehow slowly ease her into a conversation about her mum. Maybe I could even try to get reconnected with (m/n). To at least tell me why she never told me she was pregnant.”

“Now just be sure if you do get her contact information you don’t go off yelling at her. I’m sure she had her reasons…..”

“Reasons my arse Brian she kept my daughter away from me! I never even knew my first child would be a girl and I’ve missed so much….”

“Umm guys?” We turned to see (y/n) standing there. “Is everything okay?”

“No, I mean yes. Everything is fine love.” I assured her.  Her eyes gave off that same look her mum always made when she was concerned for my wellbeing.  God she really was my daughter.

“Okay, it’s just that you both were gone for a while and I got a little worried.”

“Don’t worry love, we’ll be just another minute.” She nodded before heading back inside.

“Just think about it carefully Rog. She seems to not know herself, so just proceed with caution.” Brian warned me one last time.

A couple days went by and it was just one more day till the Grammys.  I was now standing before (y/n)’s dressing room finally seeing a chance to talk to her in private.  I slowly reached my hand for the door and softly knocked on it and her voice rang out.

‘If it’s Debbie from the article fuck off I’m not giving you any dirt on Lin!’ God she really is my daughter.

“No love it’s Roger.” The door opened and she peeked out and said.

“Oh god I am so sorry about that Rog. I didn’t mean to do that I—”

“I get it, if you thought the press were bad today you should’ve seen them back in my day. God they literally camped outside your houses at the time.”

“Jesus, oh where are my manners please come in.” she said as she fully opened the door and allowed me inside.  I walked in and she closed her door and she said. “Can I get you anything? I’ve got water, champagne, some wine, beer.”

“I wouldn’t mind a beer.” I answered.

“Coming right up.” She went over to the minifridge and pulled out two bottles of beer and handed one over to me.  “So did you need anything?”

“Oh I just—see I feel like we haven’t really gotten the chance to really connect like you and Adam have, hell you even managed to spend some time with Brian and not get bored with him.” We both chuckled and I continued, “Only if you wish to. I don’t want to make you comfortable.”

“No, no it’s fine. I mean truthfully the reason why I never got to talk with you much is because…..well I’ve always been starstruck with you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah I know. All my friends had told me that out of every Queen member they’d be starstruck to meet it’d be Freddie. God rest his soul. I really am sorry about his death. I was just 11 years old when I heard the news. God I was depressed for weeks on end, couldn’t even listen to his voice without crying.”

“Yeah it—it was hard on all of us. I was actually on my way to see him. And I was just 300 yards away when I got the call….” I stopped as I felt tears fill my eyes.  Jesus retelling that day always makes me emotional.

“But he’d be proud of what you guys have done for the band. As well as everything else you all have accomplished. Even Deacy.” She said as she reached out and took my hand.  I smiled and placed my hand on top of hers.  It was then a picture caught my eye that stood on her makeup stand.

She turned around and smiled softly and said.

“That’s a picture of my mom and I at my first Broadway leading role. It was in Les Misérables when I got Fantine.” She reached over and grabbed it and handed it to me.  I took the picture in my hand and everything I had thought was officially confirmed.

There standing next to (y/n) was indeed (m/n) (l/n), the Broadway dancer I once fell in love with during our tour of America. She looked older than I last saw her, her hair was now a pixie cut short but she was still as beautiful as I remembered her being.

“Do you—still see her? I know life of a performer is tough and time constricting.” I asked her.

“I—visit her whenever I can. Bring her, her favorite flowers.”

“White lilies with baby’s breath.” We both said at the same time.  Oh bugger. “How did you know that?” she asked.

“She—she uhh….” C’mon Roger say something clever you old bastard! “She just looks like the type of woman who would love those flowers.” Oh please buy it please buy it please buy it.

“Okay.” She said a bit wearily.  “Well anyways I try to see her whenever I can. But it just gets harder and harder to visit her each time.” Huh? What did she mean by that? Is she sick? Was she abusive to her? Oh please tell me it wasn’t the latter.

“Whys that? If you don’t mind me asking?” I asked her.  She took back the picture from me and said.

“Well I’d like to clarify where she’s staying isn’t exactly a sunshiny place. It’s always hard to visit a cemetery.” What? Oh no.

“I’m so sorry dear. You don’t have to tell me the reason why…”

“No I feel like I should. After all you’re taking the time to getting to know me, might as well learn the whole package. Well this past year hasn’t been easy on me and my family. My mom was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. We—thought we’d have more time, but just as I was about to tell her that I got the leading lady role in Hamilton…..” she trailed off and clasped her hand over her mouth.

I did the only thing that I could think of. I wrapped my arms around her and lay her head on my shoulder.

“Tell me…..how do you make the pain go away?” she whimpered out.  I squeezed her shoulder and rested my head on top of hers and answered her as honestly as I could.

“It’s hard, and it may never go away. But something that helps me cope with Freddie’s death is that I try to think of all the great times I had with him. I’ve been around the old bastard so much I know exactly what he would say to me if I allowed my grief to overcome me. He’d tell me; ‘oh stiff up a lip blondie! Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you tried your best and I know what you did. Now stop your whimpering you big softie’.” I soon heard a small laugh coming from her.

It was small but I at least got a smile from her, her mother’s smile just as I remembered it.

“Your mum knew you’d get the part, I’ll bet she had no doubt that you would. So I have a feeling she’d tell you to keep performing and don’t let her death stop you from your dreams.” I rubbed her arm comfortingly and kept her in my arms for a little bit longer until she finally calmed down.  She separated herself from me and said.

“God I probably look like a mess right now.”

“Not at all.” I replied as I wiped a few tears stains from her face.

“Thank you Roger, I—haven’t been able to cry like that since the funeral.”

“I’m always here whenever you need to vent your grief. It’s not healthy to keep it inside, especially for a long period of time.” I said as I rubbed her back.  She nodded and that’s when a knock was heard.

“Ms. (L/n), it’s time for final curtain rehearsal and discuss when you and Queen and Adam are going to perform.” One of the volunteers spoke out from the other side.

“Be right out just give me a few minutes.” She called back.  “Well I better clean myself up.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” I stood up and prepared to leave her dressing room when I was suddenly hugged from behind.

“Thank you again Roger, really. You don’t know how much it meant to me.” I heard her voice say into my shoulder.  I smiled both with happiness but also grief as I turned and hugged her back.

“Anytime darling. Whenever you need to talk, I’ll be there.” She nodded then headed back over to her makeup chair and began cleaning herself up.  I stood there and watched her for a few minutes, just seeing her mother in her and remembering all the times I spent backstage on her shows seeing her get ready.

Soon the big day arrived, the Grammy awards 2016. Brian, Adam and I were in our car being driven to the award show where we would walk the carpet and do a couple of interviews.  Once we arrived, the crowd was already huge.

Hundreds of people screaming and cheering, hundreds of performers and nominees were strutting around getting their pictures taken. God what Fred would do if he were here right now, probably photobomb a few singers just to be cheeky.  After getting a few pictures in, we were stopped for an interview.

Much of it I barely paid attention to, that was until a question regarding to (y/n) came up.

“So singing along with famed Broadway singer of the American musical Hamilton, what was that like for you? Is working with a Broadway star different than other singers?”

“Oh (y/n) was a huge joy to work with. She and I are practically best friends right now and promised me tickets to the next show.” Adam laughed. “No, no she’s an amazing performer and it’s no different than working with any other singer. Less drama of course but no she was wonderful to rehearse with and I can’t wait to perform live with her.”

“And Brian, Roger? Did you guys feel out of sorts working with her? Like did she feel lower to you cause she’s just a Broadway performer?” What kind of question is that?

“No, not at all. As Adam said she was wonderful to get to know. She’s definitely got some surprises in store for us tonight as she sings with us.” Brian answered.

“Yeah Broadway performers are no different than any other singer. It’s all about just mixing in the differences each performer’s got and she was a wonderful mix into this performance.” I replied without wanting to ring the interviewers neck speaking so lowly about Broadway performers.

After the interview I then saw (y/n) talking with a female interviewer.  Wow and did she look beautiful.  She wore a spaghetti strapped royal blue backless dress which had a small train at the bottom of it.  Thinking it wouldn’t hurt to just go up and say a quick hello (after all I’ve seen actors and singers interrupt artists for a quick hello or greeting all the time).

“So yeah at first I was really nervous but then—Oh my god! Hey Rog!” She hugged me and I hugged her back saying.

“Hello love.”

“Also joining us is Queen’s drummer Roger Taylor, Roger how are you feeling?” the interviewer asked.

“Tired.” I answered which made us all laugh. “But also honored to be here, this is our first Grammy performance in like 20-30 years so it’ll be interesting to see how much has changed.”

“Don’t worry not a lot. I was just asking (y/n) how she felt singing with Queen and Adam.”

“Well I can tell you it’s been an honor to perform alongside a talented young woman like (y/n). She’s been an absolute pleasure to sing with and I can see why so many people love her in Hamilton.”

“Oh Rog stop you’re making me blush.” (y/n) groaned out as she tried to hide her face.

“Well I won’t keep you guys any longer. Good luck tonight and we’ll all be cheering for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No thank you. Cheers you two.”

“Bye.” We both walked away and as the press continued to holler and command more photos I said to (y/n).

“You look beautiful love.”

“Thanks, and you pretty handsome yourself.”

“Once a long time ago.” I stated.

“Hey now don’t say that.” She said as she playfully shoved me.

“Well then, shall I have the honor of escorting you inside milady?”

“Why of course you may.” She said in probably the most exaggerated British accent I had ever heard but I let it slide.  I hooked my arm out and she wrapped her arm around mine and the two of us walked inside.

“Well I’ll see you soon up on stage. My assigned seating is with my cast members since Hamilton is up for best musical album.” She said.

“Will do love, and good luck. I have a feeling you guys will win so many awards.” I told her.  She kissed my cheek and then headed out to meet with some of her cast members who were already there.  Seeing her with all her friends made me feel warm hearted.

“So you still gonna tell her after the show?” I heard Brian’s voice say.

“If I don’t I may never get a second chance. But there’s also something in me to not tell her. I mean what will she think of me when I do tell her?”

“I wish I could tell you what to do Rog, but only you can make that call. But whatever you choose, just make sure you don’t regret it.”  It was decided.

As the show went on, (y/n)’s first performance would be with her cast members singing the opening number of Hamilton. And hearing the song with my own ears, I was mesmerized, especially when she got to stand center stage singing the story of Alexander and his mother’s life after the father split.

Much like Queen, every voice blended so well together.  Even though there were so many of them, I could easily pick out each voice individually and hear it and their harmonizing just sent shivers up my spine.  By the end of the song, the audience roared in applause that I only heard in our concerts, but of course I was probably the loudest cheering for my girl.

As the show continued, we were now preparing to do our number.  I saw (y/n) take her spot by the piano and I walked up to her and said.

“You’re gonna do great love.”

“I know, I’m just nervous that I’ll mess up a key or note and end up messing you all up.”

“Don’t worry love, you’ll do great. I have faith in you.” I assured her as I placed my hand on her shoulder giving her a gentle squeeze.

“How do you always know what to say Roger Taylor?” she asked as he placed her hand on top of mine.

“It comes with being old.” I teased which made us laugh.

“Okay boys, Miss, we’ll be live in 2 minutes.” Said one of the producers.

“Well better get back up there.” I gestured towards my drum set.  She nodded and I walked away from the piano and sat down at my drum set twirling my drumstick in hand getting my head in the game.

“Welcome back to the 58th Grammy awards. And now for the long awaited performance of a lifetime. These guys have been kick butt in the music industry for years selling off millions of records since the 1970’s and joining them the runner up of American Idol as well as the leading lady of Hamilton. Here is (Y/n) (l/n), Queen and Adam Lambert.” The audience cheered and soon (y/n) began playing the piano as Adam began to sing “Don’t stop me now”.

Adam took the first verse of the song and as the song picked up Brian and I joined in with (y/n)’s piano playing as well as the bass player who was up on stage with us.  Lights flashing and Adam’s vice echoing through the speakers as he led the crowd in his own fashion.

By the second verse, the spotlight came onto (y/n) who kept playing the piano and I could hear the cast of Hamilton cheering for her.  Along with that soft soprano voice she used for her role as Eliza, for this song she unleashed such a raw, rock and roll alto range.  It was almost like if you could convert my rang into a woman’s voice, that’s (y/n).  

Also people suspect that most Broadway stars just sing and dance, well not this girl.  She’s told us that her mum taught her how to do the piano and guitar so she truly is a triple threat.

Along with playing and singing backup vocals on my cue, I couldn’t help but watch my daughter perform as at the instrumental break, her and Adam now stood side by side together and side stepped with each other like they practiced during rehearsal, she was a born performer. Whether Broadway or Rockstar, she was mine and her mother mixed together.

And that was enough for me to love her even more.

By the end of our piece, the audience was in a stadium sized cheer as we all came together at center stage, (y/n) standing between Adam and I as we waved of saluted to the audience in thanks.

More awards were given and soon it came time for award for ‘Best Musical theater album.’ An announcer read up all the musicals up for the award; Hamilton, An American in Paris, Fun Home, The King and I, and Something Rotten!

“And the winner of the best musical album goes to…..” all was silent and even I was tensed up with anxiety as I just wanted to race up there and rip the envelope myself.  I could do it much faster than this guy.  Finally it was open and he smiled and exclaimed into the microphone, “HAMILTON!!” I cheered out as loud as I could and whistled just as loud.

I could see (y/n) hugging her cast mates and everyone involved with the musical raced down the runway and up the stage as the audience roared with applause as the score of the opening number was playing and on the screen showed some shots of some of the actors in costume, including (y/n).

I wiped away the tears in my eyes as I kept cheering for (y/n).  She may think that no parent was there to see her get this award, but in truth she did have a father who was so proud of her and I just know (m/n) is cheering and crying in heaven.

Once the award show was finally over, I could see the entire cast of Hamilton all outside in a group huddle cheering and crying out as some of them including my girl holding a Grammy trophy.  Everyone was talking over each other in pure excitement that was until Lin’s proclaimed.

“Okay Hamilton cast, first round of drinks are on me tonight!” Everyone cheered and they all walked on ahead, that was until (y/n) spotted me.  She smiled and ran towards me and tackled me in a hug.

“Ohh I’m so happy you got to see it happen!” she exclaimed.

“Congratulations love. You and your castmates deserved to win.”

“Why don’t you come celebrate with us?” she offered.

“Oh no, no. You wouldn’t want an old grizzly man to cramp your style dear.”

“Hey what did I just tell you earlier?” she mocked.

“Besides; Brian, Adam and I need to be on the next flight out of here back to London to start planning our European tour.”

“So—this is it?” she asked sadly.  “Wow it…..it feels like this has all ended too fast.”

“I know what you mean. But you still got so many more awards to win love, you should be focused and celebrating every chance you get. Especially since rumor has it you’re up for a Tony award.”

“Yeah, never did I think I would ever get nominated for one. It’ll be my first nomination.”

“And I pray that they’ll call you Tony Award winner (y/n) (l/n) after you win it.” I said as I cupped her face and stroked her cheek.

“Thank you for everything Roger. And it was an honor to play alongside you. Give my love to Brian and Adam for me will you?”

“Of course.” We both kissed each other’s cheek and she went on ahead.

“Oh hey, next time you three are in New York, come see us. I can have security let you in backstage before and after the show!”

“We’ll take you up on that offer.” C’mon you old fool she’s walking away. You’ve got to tell her now. Do it! Do it! “(Y/n) wait!” she stopped and turned back around.

“Yeah Rog?” I walked up towards her and nervously stammered out.

“I—I uhh….Can we…..can we talk for a minute before you go? Privately.”

“Sure Rog, let me just text Leslie since he’s my ride to the bar.” She quickly sent a text to Leslie and once she saw the reply she said, “Okay he’s gonna wait for me in the parking garage and let the others know to wait for us. Where do you want to talk?”

“Mind if we go to my dressing room?” she shook her head and we both walked along to where Brian and I shared a dressing room before the performance.  Once we got in she immediately set herself down on the couch and took off her heels.

“God even though I wear heels every night on stage, I still don’t get used to stilettos. Whoever invented those heel brands must’ve had no skin whatsoever.”

“Yeah, they are a real pain in the arse.” I told her.

“So what do you want to talk about Roger?” she asked.

Here it was, the moment of truth.  It was either say it now or let it blow up in your face.

“You—you remember how I knew your mother’s favorite flowers?”

“Yeah.” She said wearily.

“Well, I was completely honest with you (y/n).”

“What are you talking about?”

“I—I knew your mother.” I saw her eyes slowly widen as she just stared at me.

“You knew my mother?”

“Yes. I first met her back in 1980. It was after a Madison Square Garden show, Freddie, John and I went to go see West Side Story at the time, and when I saw your mother on stage…..it was like I was looking at a true dancer on the stage. She outshined everyone.”

“Yeah she was known for that.” (y/n) reminisced.

“After the show I went up and talked to her. Of course she was feisty but I couldn’t help myself. I was drawn to her, and soon we eventually became friends. Very good friends.”

“But…..if you guys were so close, how come she never spoke to me about you?” I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled and I said.

“I’m sorry I have to tell you this, and you may hate me after I tell you. Maybe even think I’m a horrible person but I swear I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what? Roger please you’re scaring me. Just tell me what this is all about?”  I looked down at my feet for god knows how long before I finally looked up at her and told her straight up.

“I’m your father.”

All was silent as her face slowly turned from shock to absolute horror.

“At first I didn’t know when we first met. But there was something about you that just seemed familiar. Then the dinner when you said your mum was a Broadway dancer it got me freaked out thinking that it wasn’t possible, but then seeing a picture of your mum it only confirmed everything. I didn’t know she was pregnant I woke up one morning and she was just gone leaving a note telling me she was sorry. I don’t mean to spring this on you at once but I—”

“Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.” She muttered in haste as she held out her hand.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry I just……”

“Stay away from me.” She sneered.

“(Y/n) please I swear I…..” but she kept interrupting me as I kept trying to explain myself as gently as I could.  She kept muttering to herself till suddenly I felt this sharp pain across my face and I found myself down on the ground.

“Just stay away from me! You’re a crazy, senile old man. Just stay away from me or I’ll call the police!” she then raced out of the dressing room, but I could hear the sounds of her crying echoing through the hallway as she ran.

I blew it.  Now that all was said and done, I blew it.  She knew the truth and seeing her so upset just broke my heart.  I didn’t mean to confuse her or make her mad I just—maybe I was being selfish.  

It had been about four months since the Grammy’s and ever since I told (y/n) the truth, I just couldn’t think right.  Even during rehearsals with Brian and Adam my head just wasn’t in the game as it usually was and they could tell but they didn’t push.  Can’t say the same for the managers as well as the touring manager since we needed to prepare for our next upcoming tour.

“Roger?” I heard my wife Sarina call out to me.

“Please love I….I need a moment to myself.”

“Rog, I think you should really come to the living room. Someone came all this way to see you, and it’d be rude to just toss her out into the London streets.” I looked up at her and asked.

“Who is it?” she gestured with her finger to follow her.  We walked out of my basement studio and came to the living room to see Tiger Lilly, Rory, and Lola sitting with (y/n).

I couldn’t believe it, all my girls together and talking with each other.

“I—hope I’m not intruding or anything.” (y/n) answered nervously as she fiddled with her fingers.

“No not at all.” I replied.

“Girls why don’t we give them some privacy?” Sarina suggested and soon my three girls left us to chat.

“Didn’t feel the need to tell them quite yet.” She replied softly.

“Although I bet Tiger and Lola would flip knowing that Elizabeth Schuyler is their sister.” She softly smiled and then looked up at me.

“I—I made some calls to my uncle Bobby and aunt Jodie, my mom’s siblings and told them if they knew. And—turns out you weren’t some crazy old man. Apparently when my mom found out she was pregnant with me, she didn’t want to tell you. She claimed that Queen was finally getting the recognition that you guys deserved and she knew you weren’t the type to settle down. She thought you’d leave her or ask her to abort me. So she just decided to pack up her stuff and moved back to the states and never wanted to contact you again.”

“What?” I muttered in shock.

“That’s what my aunt and uncle said. And now that I think back, she always did step out of the room and never spoke when I would play a Queen record or when one of your songs came on the radio. She never said she hated you guys, just—couldn’t listen to your songs. And apparently she knew when it was a song written by you.” I smiled sadly and stated.

“(Y/n) I—I never wanted to confuse or hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

“No you had every right to act the way you did. I know I would.” I said as I sat in front of her.  Hesitantly I reached out and cupped her face in my hands and lifted her head up so that I could look into the blue eyes she inherited from me. “Listen (y/n); I have missed so much in your life. Your first steps, first word, the first show you got casted in, every important thing in your life. And I can understand if you don’t want me to be a part of it now. After all you’ve become successful on your own and have grown into such a beautiful young woman.”

“It was hard believe me.” She choked out.

“But you made it. Look at you now. And your mum would be so proud of you.” I saw tears drip down her face and she nodded.

“It’ll be hard, after all I never knew I had a dad. So I assumed it was just my mom and me, it’ll take some time to get used to having a dad but—will you be a part of my narrative?” I only smiled and quoted her character’s famed quote.

“That would be enough, love.” We immediately held each other.  I felt her bury her face into chest and I buried my face into her hair inhaling her scent.  I held her as tight as I could and couldn’t stop the tears falling down my face.

God I can’t believe this.  I had another baby girl, and at last I finally got the chance to hold her in my arms.  My eyes, attitude and looks along with her mother’s as well as her mother’s hair, we made a perfect Broadway angel.

About a week later it was the premiere of the London production of Hamilton.  As a first success, the American cast came to kick off the show and then auditions would begin here in London.  With the help of (y/n), she gave all of us tickets and the best seats for the show. Not just my family but Brian’s as well as Adam and his parents.  And seeing my angel in her element on stage in full costume and makeup, she reminded me of her mother but also had the front lady essence that Fred once had.

But the number that got me the most was the number ‘That would be enough’ when Eliza confirmed to Hamilton of her pregnancy after he was forced to be sent home from the war.  The lyrics hit me so hard and the chemistry between my daughter and Lin-Manuel Miranda made me think of me and (m/n).

I also saw how on certain parts of the lyrics especially towards the end of the song, I saw how she would look right at me. The way she evoked raw emotion and even allowed tears to fall down her face just shot some serious feels (at least I think that’s how Lola says people call it now) right in the heart.

I was proud of my Broadway baby, I’m glad that now we can be apart of each other’s lives now.  And that was enough.

[thestraggletag]

Indulgence!AU Part 4

Anons Prompted:

Indulgence AU: The doctor asks what the plan is once Belle is released - she cant live alone and will need help recovering. 

Fuck Anon Prompt - How long has it been since you've slept?

Part One, Part Two and Part Three.

Things seemed to move quicker after she woke. Soon she was moved to a much larger and nicer room, with a window overlooking the gardens, a nicely-sized bathroom, a television and a nice-looking futon, which Nick appreciated beyond words. 

Belle’s father arrived in the afternoon, obviously jetlagged and carrying his luggage. It was a testament to their mutual love and concern for Belle that both men managed to remain amicable as they exchanged information and decided on what to do short them. It was decided Nick would go home, shower and change and relieve Moe in the evening, so the older man could go home, unpack and rest. That way if Belle woke up at all she would not be alone. 

It felt disconcerting to go back to his penthouse, almost uncomfortable. But taking a shower felt heavenly, as did eating something that was hot and required utensils. But he didn’t like being away from the hospital so in lieu of a much-needed nap Nick began researching plastic surgeons, taking note of a few names and sending an email to Tilly to get her to do further research on them. Finally he fished out a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and his bomber jacket, feeling like it would be more comfortable than his usual suits. 

It felt inevitable to run into Mal, the woman giving him an appraising look he assumed was meant to be mocking and making a comment on how she’d thought his skin was allergic to anything other than silk, premium cotton and high-end wool. He told her to go fuck herself, being too tired for a better quip.

Belle was quietly talking with her father when he got back into her room, asking questions about their family back in Australia, smiling and looking like she wasn’t in pain. An act, since he knew her body aches and the stitches alternated between itching and burning. But her father seemed fooled by the act, smiling and going on and on about this gigantic Murray cod he’d caught in Menindee, enthusiastically showing her pictures as he told the story.

If his good mood was a bit soured by Nick’s arrival he barely let it show, instead focusing in saying goodbye to Belle, promising to return soon, once he got the chance to unpack and rest a bit.

“Don’t keep the flower shop closed on my account, you hear me? You can visit me on weekends, we can Facetime in the meantime. Mal brought my Ipad over and you got the one I gave you last Christmas.”

The man agreed and Nick felt a sudden and brief flare of anger. How easily the man agreed to not see his hospitalised child for the next six days. He reminded himself a moment later that Maurice French likely could not afford to keep his business closed or pay someone to replace him at it. He was a man of modest means that, to his credit, did not take anything from his now more successful daughter. A prideful man, likely his one redeeming quality. That and his honest, if imperfect, love for Belle.

They exchanged a brief greeting in passing before the old man went home, both very aware of the tiny Australian woman watching them like a hawk, willing them to be nice. As he unpacked his belongings- he’d brought a duffel bag with a few clothes and toiletries, as well as a satchel with his laptop and his glasses. He could feel Belle watching as he did all that, and it made him nervous and alert. Something was up. 

“I think one of the nurses asked after you.” Her voice seemed light, but he knew there was a catch in there somewhere. “Well, at least I think she did. She asked where my fiancé was. It was lucky dad was in the bathroom.”

He froze, refusing to turn over and face her, muttering something about visiting hours and how it had been convenient to call himself her fiancé.

“Good, I’m glad.” It hurt for a second or two before she spoke again. “I was afraid we had gotten engaged and I had simply forgotten it.”

He wanted to tell her that he had tried, over and over, but had never managed to actually pop the question. But he refrained, finding out he did have a shred of dignity left after all.

“Did the doctor say something while I was out?”

There was nothing new. Things were looking good, and soon Belle would be able to drink and eat, albeit with a lot of restrictions. Mal had amused herself by arguing with a nurse as if she truly believed brandy had medicinal properties and would therefore be okay for Belle to start drinking again and she had even gotten to see a few of her friends, though Emma hadn’t been able to make it, given that she had a full day shift. 

“She’s been keeping me informed about the case.”

The police had talked to Belle before he had left, looking like nothing of what she told them was news to them. Jefferson apparently had been their one big source of information so far and there was almost nothing Belle knew that he didn’t. He had told her beforehand of the fact they were keeping the whole business with Regina private, which she seemed to agree with wholeheartedly, given that it could complicate things for her father if it became known.

Though he had entertained the idea back at his penthouse of catching up on some emails and stuff with his laptop they ended up watching movies with it instead. Her new bed was spacious enough for two but he hadn’t dared to presume until Belle had patted the empty spot she’d made for him with a rather determined expression on her face.

By the time they reached the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark he was falling asleep, having kept his eyes shut since the nazis had first opened the ark. Belle carded her fingers through his hair, the gesture slow and brief, taking into account how stiff and weak her muscles were.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept? Properly, I mean, in a bed.”

He didn’t need to tell her what the answer was. She knew. 

“I didn’t feel comfortable leaving.”

He had a sudden thought that perhaps she wasn’t asking just for his wellbeing. Maybe she was hoping he’d leave. Maybe she wanted some privacy or peace and quiet or a break from him and just didn’t know how to tell him.

“I asked the nurses to prepare you a bed in the futon. They do it in the pediatric unit, so a parent can stay overnight with the child. They seemed very unfazed at the notion of bending the rules for you, so I gather you pulled some strings.”

There was a familiar fondness in her tone, as well as a hint of exasperation. But surely if she’d gone through the trouble of making sure he could sleep comfortably in the room it meant she was not angling for him to leave.

“Thank you.”

They were soon interrupted by a nurse carrying a pillow and some blankets, efficiently making the futon into a bed before briefly checking in on Belle, mostly on her IV to see that it was not infected, before injecting the nightly dose of antibiotics into the cap before retiring. He changed into some lounge pants he’d brought with him, the sort that looked a bit like respectable pyjamas, and settled on the futon. It was a bit too firm, perhaps, and a wee bit small, but a vast improvement on the chair in the ICU. Unlike when he’d been at home it was easy to relax enough to slip into sleep, the sound of Belle’s breathing soothing.

“Good night Nick. I’m glad you’re here.”

He took a sudden deep breath, an icy thread of fear that had been wrapped around him without him noticing it unfurling and melting away. Belle wanted him here. He felt like weeping in relief.

“Good night.”

[glitterslag]

Paris, Mon Amour - A Booty Call spinoff/Part 3

Back by popular demand. And because Paris Ben needed his own blurb. 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: language, some smut, lil bit of angst and a rogue dick-pic

Summary: You’re trying not to miss Ben, but it’s hard when there are pictures of him everywhere you look. Even your house-mate can’t shut up about him. 

A/N: This was originally a spin-off blurb set in the Booty Call AU, but can either be read as a standalone or as a Part 3 of the main fic. LOTS of people have requested this over the weeks (super sorry it’s taken me so long to finally finish) so I’d love it if just as many people RB and comment! Enjoy x

P.S. my tag lists are a holy show at the moment so if you were/weren’t tagged and you did/didn’t want to be - SORRY!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Have you seen those pictures of Ben at the Oscars?”

You were kneeling on the kitchen tiles, up to your elbows in the bottom freezer drawer, hunting for a tub of ice cream. Jen’s voice floated down the hallway from where she stood at her bedroom mirror, taking off the last of her makeup.

Jen was one of those people who always kept her bedroom door open.

“The ones with Joe and Gwil?” You called back, smiling faintly.

You had post notifications on for all of your friends, Joe and Gwilym included. You had, of course, seen their instagram stories from the Oscars.

“No, no. The ones with the girl.” Jen said as she wandered through into the kitchen, towel on her head and her body wrapped in her fluffy purple dressing gown.

“Lucy?” You wondered, spoon in your mouth as you used both hands to rummage for the tub of mint choc chip.

“No, the beautiful blonde, the skinny one.”

“Lucy’s the blonde.”

You were starting to get a bit irritable now, fingers stinging with the cold of the freezer. Where was the bloody ice cream?

“No, not Lucy, another one - gorgeous. A model maybe?”

“I think you mean his stylist.” You said bluntly.  “Iliara?”

“Noo no, not his stylist, the stunning blonde-“

“I GET IT SHE’S BEAUTIFUL!” You yelled, slamming the freezer door shut with a heavy thud.

Jen faked hurt.

“Well there’s no need to get so snappy with me. I was just saying.”

You honestly hated her, sometimes.

In truth, you did wonder about what Ben was getting up to every night at these glamorous parties, even though you knew you had absolutely no right to. You couldn’t help it. He wasn’t your boyfriend – far from it - you had only slept together a handful of times by now. And Jen knew that. You tried hard to just to be happy for Ben, and not think too much about him rubbing shoulders with all these beautiful women. But it wasn’t easy when she seemed to have this perfect knack for rubbing things in.

All the boys had said that they wished you could come tonight, but unfortunately not. Apart from Rami, they were only seated in the viewing gallery themselves, and none of them got to bring a plus one. Only having been an apprentice, there was no chance someone with your position would get invited to the ceremony.

You got texts and snapchats from the boys though, all night, making less and less sense as they steadily get drunker and you found yourself staying up way past bedtime to open their messages, despite having a lecture at 9am.

“Wish you were here to help me tie my tie. Keeps coming undone :/”  read a particularly sweet one you received from Ben at about one in the morning, and it somehow calmed all of the fears you’d had before.

~~~

“Have you seen those pictures of Ben in Paris?” Came Jen’s disembodied voice almost the second you walked through the door, and you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“What are you, stalking him?” You said bitterly, ripping off your bike helmet and flinging it down onto the sofa.

Jen eyed you from the kitchen counter knowingly.

“Long day, was it?”

You shed your coat, scarf, gloves, hat, shoes, each one coming to join your helmet with more velocity than the last.

“Mm.” You muttered under your breath, stalking over with your arms folded to flick the kettle on. “Remind me again why I started back at this fucking uni..?”

~~~

You had seen the pictures.

Ben had flown to Paris for fashion week that morning, and by the time you sat down to have lunch at uni he was all over your Instagram feed looking like he’d barely slept. There were pictures of him with models. Sat on the front row of some Yves Saint Laurent show sandwiched in between them. The butterflies in your belly had started up again.

You hated yourself for being like this. Insecure was so not attractive. And you were never like that with boys. It’s just that other boys usually weren’t Ben fucking Hardy.

He didn’t look very happy. He hadn’t shaved, and there were dark circles under his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel a twang of concern. You wrestled with yourself for an hour or so before shooting him a little text, enquiring after his wellbeing.

He didn’t get back to you until midnight.

“Just got back to my hotel room. Exhausted.”

“No offence, but you look it.”

Ben had gone straight from the Oscars afterparty to the airport for a twelve hour flight to Paris. You were doing a presentation on colour theory for your Contemporary Cinema seminar when his text had come pinging through into the top corner of your MacBook, hooked up to the projector for your whole class of 30 to see.

Ben Hardy: Still pissed on the plane. Help me

They’d all giggled as you scrambled to switch off iMessage, struggling to regain composure and continue with your presentation, worth 50% of your grade for the whole module. It was a good job Ben had such a common name, as you had to laugh and brush it off when some kid in the back joked that you were “chirpsing the real Peter Beale”.

You recounted the tale to Ben now, hoping to give him a laugh, and indeed, the screen lit up your dark bedroom with a little line of laughter emojis only a minute later. You grinned, warmed. You might have been separated from him by the English channel, but compared to Los Angeles? You could kid yourself he was only next door.

You wanted badly to tell him you missed him, but you’d only just started admitting it to yourself.

“Sorry we keep missing each other.” He wrote, referring to the conflicting schedules you’d had over past few weeks, as well as the time zone issue. “It’s just been a mad one.”

That’s ok! I get it :)

You reply. And then:

You should sleep.

You worked out it would be past 1am there. He had to have been absolutely worn out.

Can’t.

Why’s that?

Kinda got a problem..

You waited for him to elaborate, sitting up and switching on your bedroom light.

You’re not in public are you?

Why??

You were curious now, closing all your other apps to focus solely on the conversation. Surely he knew that at midnight on a Monday you’d be home.

Just answer You at home?

I’m in bed

Even better ;)

You felt a flutter in the pit of your stomach. What was he up to?

Ben, what is it?

I wanna send you something

And then it dawned on you. He couldn’t sleep. Had a problem. Needed you to be alone.

Oh.

Only if that’s ok?? He replied, seconds later.

Yes

You put the phone down on your pillow, chewing on your nails as you waited for him to send it. There was no reason to be nervous. You’d seen his cock in person. Touched it. It just felt like a big deal somehow, having it on your phone. Risky.

He was lying in bed too. White hotel sheets, single bed against one wall, a mirror image of your cramped little student room. 

The picture was nice.

I mean, of course it was – it was his, but even for him. He was naked, from the looks of it, lying on his back grasping himself in his fist, bright pink and hard against his belly. He looked gorgeous. You could barely close the picture long enough to tell him so.

You didn’t full-on sext. He was far too tired - and you far too shy - for that. But you did send him a picture of yourself, face cut off from the lips upward, of course. It was nothing too crazy. Just you lying in bed in your low-cut pyjama vest and French knickers (“Fitting ;)”).

After a few more messages back and forth your cheeks were stinging with heat, nipples hard through your pyjama top and a pool forming between your thighs.

He sent you a picture of his come, pearlescent white against his velveteen stomach in the camera flash. You felt your heart beating in your mouth and your fingers and your clitoris as you looked at it, wondering how that, something you’d never, ever imagined yourself wanting to receive from anyone, could be so beautiful to you.

You found yourself longing for his taste. To lick every last drop from the silky skin of his tummy.

Christ. You thought. What had gotten into you?

“What a waste” you typed.

~~~

The next morning you strolled into the kitchen with a spring in your step , and were pouring cereal into a bowl when Jen piped up from the kitchen table.

“Did you see those pictures of Ben?” She asked predictably, and you bit back a smirk. “The ones with the models? He’s at the Yves Saint Laurent show.”

As if you wouldn’t have known where he was.

She was on the gossip page of one of those glossy magazines, OK! or Grazia - that sort of thing. As she brushed toast crumbs away to pour over the celebrity news you caught a glimpsed of a harassed-looking Ben, walking down the street with his hood up.

“He’s at fashion week.” She added.

“Oh, I spoke to him last night, actually.” You said, attempting to sound offhand.

“Really?” Jen replied airily. “What’d you talk about?”

“He was just saying how tired he was. Couldn’t wait to get back to London.”

“He was probably saying it to make you feel better.”

She didn’t look up from the magazine as she bit into her toast. Still, you could tell she was put out.

~~~

Ben arrived back that night and invited himself over. Couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess at his, he said. He could unpack tomorrow. Besides, Frankie was with his ex for the whole week anyway, so there was nothing for him to be back for. He said he’d dump his suitcase at home and then come straight round, but you didn’t realise how literally he’d meant that.

He looked bone-weary. Hair a mess, he wasn’t shaved or showered, still in his clothes from the flight and you thought privately that you might prefer this version of him the best. His nose and fingers and toes were cold from the outside, and you squealed in his grasp, trying to squirm away but he wouldn’t let you, nuzzling his icy nose into you on purpose, seeking your warmth. You got straight into bed even though it had only just gone 8 by the time he rocked up, and his lips were pressed against yours right away.

For once, there was absolutely no lust there. He didn’t try to roll on top of you, hands staying on your middle, rubbing up and down your sides gently instead of trying to wander downwards. Just kissing for the sake of kissing. It made your heart speed up to think it. You still couldn’t quite believe he was here.  He’d never been round to your flat before.

You made out for what could’ve been ten minutes or an hour, before coming to a slow, mutual stop.

“ ‘M’too tired to do anything,” He said, voice thick with sleep as he pushed his face into your neck to smell you. “Jus’ wanna nap for a million years.”

“M’Kay.” You said, muffled against his soft green jumper. He smelled of the outside.

~~~

You woke up not knowing what century it was,  and you assumed he’d feel the same. 

It was about 7am, and you were positively toasty. The heating had kicked in overnight and you’d fallen asleep in leggings and fluffy bed socks. At some point, Ben had taken his top off and you’d eagerly taken it and put it on, keen for his body warmth that still clung to it. 

You peeled yourself off him, feeling sweat sticking down your back from where his bare chest had been pressed against it all night. He was like a space heater at the best of times. You slipped your socks off your sweaty feet and kicked them far down the bed, losing them in the sea of duvet.

You wriggled around in his arms so you could bury into his chest and he wrapped them back around you again, even in sleep. You lay there for a while in the pitch black, playing at being a little mouse snuggled up in the burrow, lying side by side with its den mate in the dark earth. Only the smell and feel and taste of each other to rely on.

You almost didn’t want to wake him up. To prolong the pretence that he was your live-in boyfriend for just a little longer. That he didn’t have to leave in an hour or two and that then you wouldn’t see him again for god knows how long.

You realised you only disliked dark mornings when you were sleeping alone.

  ~~~

“Have you seen those pictures of Ben at the airport?” Jen asked as the two of you trailed into the kitchen.

Ben stepped out from behind you awkwardly, and her ears turned pink with embarrassment. She slapped her hand over her mouth. You realised this was her first time meeting him in person.

“Coffee?” She managed to squeak after collecting herself again, and everyone laughed.

“It’s a good job you’re back.” She said to Ben not long later, handing him the mug of black coffee which he grabbed gratefully. “She’s been in a mood all week!”

“I have not Jen!” You protested, mortified.

Ben just grinned and slung an arm around you, biting into his toast.

“I’ll keep her in check.”

He winked at you and you nearly died off.

You watched him across the kitchen table over breakfast, thumming at your shirt collar. You brushed your fingers over your sore collar-bone absentmindedly, poking at the skin there testingly, bruised from where he’d sucked and bitten it. There was a sort of soft shyness to the way Ben was looking at you; private, stolen glances over steaming coffee cups, Jen yammering on in the background, oblivious to the fullness of the atmosphere.

You’d never liked it in the morning as much as you did with Ben. Only an hour ago, you’d been giving him a sloppy blowjob under the covers, enjoying the perfect stillness of 7am while he ran his hands through your hair and sighed. Eventually, once he was a bit more awake, he’d hauled you up and then rolled on top, pinning your hands to the bed as he settled his warm, welcome weight on top of you.

You’d not been quite ready for him yet, legs slung over his hips and hooked under his bum as he wiggled into you, and the stretch felt so incredible it had been an effort to keep quiet, conscious of Jen asleep in the next room. His thrusts were slow, fingers laced through yours, holding you down as you kissed sloppily.

Then he’d let go of one of your hands to bring a thumb down in between your legs, fingers gripping at your hip gently as he brushed over your clit, feather-light. He slowly built you to a shivering, long drawn out orgasm, clenching on him violently as he trembled with the effort of staying quiet.

Eyes squeezed shut, pink lips parted, he approached his high, and you took him by the back of the head gently to place a long, soft kiss to his cheek to soothe him. He pushed into it, panting, little noises of appreciation escaping the back of his throat while he came.

~~~

“I’ll have to leave”.

You snapped him out of his reverie and he blinked at you, blushing. You didn’t have to be an expert to tell what he’d been thinking about. 

“Lecture?” Ben wondered, and you shook your head.

“Nah, work.”

You told Ben he was free to stay and have breakfast after you left for your part time job at a cafe. However, it appeared that the idea of him and Jen being left alone together terrified him as much as it did you and he opted to walk out with you after you finished your coffee. You walked your bike with him to where he’d parked his car.

“I could give you a lift?”

“Nah,” you said casually, fastening your helmet under your chin. “traffic’ll be bad”

He nodded his head. Neither of you moved to leave, and he looked like he was about to say something until both your heads jerked around at the sound of a group of school kids shouting from across the road.

“Oi, weren’t you in Eastenders?!”

One of them came running across the road to where the two of you were stood, face to face in front of his car boot. The rest of them followed nervously. The two of you sighed and smiled.

“I’ll be late.” You said, mounting your bike. He shot you a pleading, apologetic look but you just grinned at him from over your shoulder.  “I’ll have to go.”

You waved him off as the gaggle descended on him, cycling away before they could get too good of a look at you. You glanced back every now and then at his retreating form, trying his best to be polite as they each asked him for an autograph and a picture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @thegreekdreamersworld @youcapturedmyheartben @inlovewithbenhardy@summer–infinity @hmmmm-nope @hanginwithmanerds @shhhs3cret @redspecialty @falling-stars-never-cry @deathbyinternets @anita-e-taylor @hales-a-bells @not-your-housekeeper @wanderingxsherlockian @benstolemyhearty @scarsout @hardzzellos @bloominess @wonderless-screwup @abigfatmess @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @borhap-baby @the-claire-bitch-project @lukeofmine @sadfathoe427 @amidst-wonderland @glitterdreamsz @haywood-ya-not @hystericalqueenstan @totallynerdstuff @mustbeaweasleyginger @sweetheartben

[dammitdobrik]

Such a Pain | DAVID DOBRIK

Description: Your Soulmate David Dobrik was quite a pain in the ass, both literally and figuratively. A Soulmate AU where you and your true love feel each others' pain and receive each others'  injuries.

Author's Note: This fic will heretofore be known as the Soulmate AU no one asked for but Phoebe wrote anyway because she wanted to. Let me know what ya'll think of this and your favorite Soulmate AU's because who knows I might just write another one ;)

Word Count: 5974

  The first time (Y/N) remembered ever being genuinely concerned about her soulmate’s wellbeing happened a year before they ever met.

She was walking across the campus of USC to her next class when she gasped and dropped her phone with a scream of pain.

The students who flooded the sidewalk at that time of day all turned to stare at (Y/N) as she dropped to her knees and clutched her hand tightly to her chest.

She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip to stop from crying out again, not wanting to make a bigger scene than she already had.  A sharp stabbing pain reverberated throughout her palm and made it feel as if every nerve were on fire.

“Hey are you alright?” someone asked, squatting down next to her.

She shook her head. “I don’t know my hand-,” (Y/N) gasped out, gritting her teeth.  “-fuck it really hurts.” She pulled it even tighter against her chest as another wave of pain hit her.

They placed a hand gently on her wrist and tapped it. “C’mon let me have a look. I’m a student at the med school here I can help.”

Letting out a shaky breath, (Y/N) opened her eyes and pressed her wrist into his touch so he could examine it. As he gently tugged it away and she unclenched her fingers, (Y/N) was able to get a good look at the injury for the first time.

There was a deep cut running along the palm of her hand from her thumb all the way down across to the base of her inner wrist. It was bleeding profusely. And with a quick glance down to where her hand had been pressed into her chest, (Y/N) realized that her one white shirt was now ruined.

“You’re definitely gonna need stiches,” he said only after a moment of examination. ‘Maybe even a brace to protect it for a bit.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded his head. “You can go ahead and thank your soulmate for this one.”

Until that point, (Y/N)’s soulmate hadn’t given her any injures quite like this one. She used to get scraps on her knees when she was younger and the occasional scratch on the arm from him, but nothing too serious that she had any need to worry.

But this, this was different. This was the first injury she’d received from him that required medical attention.

(Y/N) hoped he was okay; and while she was sitting in the ER later that afternoon waiting to have her hand stitched up, began to think of every scenario possible that could’ve lead to such an injury.

  The first time (Y/N) saw her soulmates face was the night she’s pretty sure he got punched in the face.

She was hunched over her desk focusing solely on the textbook laid out open in front of her. She chewed on the end her pen absentmindedly, waiting for important information to jump out at her so she could write it down in her notes.

That’s when (Y/N)’s head jerked as her face contorted into a wince. A hiss escaped from between her teeth as she reached hand up to cover her mouth instinctively.

A dull pain radiated from her bottom lip and the taste of copper began to fill her mouth. (Y/N) tugged her lip down and picked up her phone to look at it in the reflection of the screen.

There was small cut on the inside of her lip that looked like it came from a harsh impact with her tooth.

The door to her dorm room opened and in came her roommate smelling lightly of alcohol and sweat.

“Hey,” she said, closing the door behind her. She tossed her keys and wallet down on her nightstand and collapsed onto her bed with a thump. “Have you seriously been studying this whole time?” she asked, turning her head to glance at (Y/N). “Wait what are you doing?”

(Y/N) put her phone down and let go her lip, rubbing it lightly. “I think my soulmate might be an asshole.”

“Huh?”

“I’m pretty sure he just got punched in the face,” (Y/N) said, showing her roommate her middle and index finger which were covered lightly in blood from her lip.

Her roommate laughed. “Speaking of assholes,” she said, sitting up on her bed, “-you’re never going to guess who I saw at the party tonight.”

“Who?”

“David Dobrik.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows and spun her desk chair around to fully face her roommate, her chemistry textbook now long forgotten. “Who?” she repeated.

“You know, the Youtuber? He used to be pretty big on Vine.”

(Y/N) smiled grimly and shook her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

She let out a breath of exasperation. “He’s the guy you hear about on campus all the time. Him and friends are the one who show up to all the parties and film people doing crazy shit.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Now that rung a bell. (Y/N) definitely knew who she was talking about now.

David and his friends were a bit of local USC legend. She’d never actually seen them or watched any of their videos because (Y/N) was, as her roommate so nicely put it, a fucking nerd who spent way too much time studying and needed to let loose more.

“Yea. I heard a bunch of screaming coming from another room and when I went to check it out I saw him with his black hat and camera filming his friend making out with a bunch of girls.”

(Y/N) cringed and swiveled her chair back around to get back to work. “Gross.”

“Yea I know.” The bed creaked as her roommate stood up and walked over to (Y/N), slamming her textbook closed.

“Hey!” she yelped in surprise, jerking her hand away before it got crushed. “What was that for?”

“It’s 2 am (Y/N). You’ve been at this for hours I think you’ve done enough,” her roommate said. “I’m gonna take a shower, and when I come back you better be in bed. Okay?”

“But I-“

She pointed at her bed. “Sleep.”

They glared challengingly at each other for a moment, (Y/N) sighing in defeat when she realized her roommate wasn’t ever going to back down.

“Fine,” she conceded, a wave of fatigue hitting her like that punch her soulmate got to the face.

While her roommate was in the shower (Y/N) changed into her pajamas and pulled her (Y/H/C) hair away from her face then hoped into bed, only slightly begrudgingly.

She was sleepy, but not tired enough to pass out just then. It only took a moment of staring at her dimmed phone screen for (Y/N)’s curiosity to get the best of her.

She opened the Youtube app and searched up David Dobrik’s channel.

For the next the hour while her roommate took one of her notoriously long showers (Y/N) watched his vlogs on autoplay. They came on one after another, and she watched in amusement as a few people she knew from her classes made appearances in his clips from parties at USC.

As the sun got closer to rising in the East, her quiet laughs began to come less and less frequently as her eyelids became heavy with sleepiness. She let out a yawn and clicked her phone off for the night just before her roommate came back in from the bathroom.

And if (Y/N) wasn’t so tired that night from hours of studying chemistry, she probably would’ve gone back in his vlogs far enough to watch David cut his hand open with a wine bottle in the exact same place it had happened to her.

And if (Y/N) wasn’t so busy with school from that point on, she probably would’ve watched the vlog he posted the next day titled I GOT HIT IN THE FACE!! AMBULANCE CALLED!!, and realized that David Dobrik might be her soulmate.

But she was tired, and was busy with school, so (Y/N) did neither of those things.

They’d meet eventually, but the night David got punched in the face wasn’t that day.

  The first time (Y/N) met David Dobrik she had no idea that he was her soulmate.

It was the final day of her sophomore year of college, and she was out celebrating with her roommate after having taken their last exams.

(Y/N) had agreed to go with her to one of the many parties being hosted on campus that night, and 15 minutes after leaving her dorm room realized that she would never agree to such a thing again.

She knew that USC was a party school, and that parties at any college could get crazy, but she was in no way near prepared to experience it firsthand.

(Y/N) learned that night that she hated the smell of tequila and that the quietest place to run off to at a frat party was the back yard.

The bass from the speakers that were blasting some random Top 40’s hit track seemed to literally be shaking the walls of the house as she opened the back door and stepped into the fenced off yard.

(Y/N) took in a deep breath of fresh air, hoping to purge her nose of the smell of alcohol. She rubbed her grimy hands against the tight sequined skirt she was wearing and walked further into the yard to sit in one of the outdoor chairs that surrounded a dirty glass table.

It was comforting to know that wherever you went, the same hard metal chairs with minimum cushioning and square foggy glass table would always be in everyone’s back yard.

She sat down with a sigh and wiped a stray strand of hair away from her face. She tilted her head back and looked up at the starless, monochromatic black blob of sky that was above LA. The humidity of the air was almost suffocating.

(Y/N) turned her head at the sound of the patio door sliding open, the music from inside bursting out into the somewhat quiet night air before the door was shut again.

A boy wearing black jeans, a black t shirt, and black hat with tufts of curly hair sticking up from underneath appeared holding a professional looking camera. His face and boyish looking grin that he flashed at (Y/N) seemed very familiar, and it only took a second for it to hit her that this was the infamous David Dobrik.

“Is it okay if I sit?” he asked, gesturing with his free hand to the chair across from hers at the table.

(Y/N) lifted her back up to its normal position and nodded her head. “Go ahead.”

He gave her a quick thank you before sitting down in the chair. They sat in silence for a while, (Y/N) enjoying the weight lifted off her shoulders from the end of exams while David went through his camera footage.

He glanced up at her every now and then as if expecting her to say something, but looked back down at his camera screen quickly when she turned to look at him.

“Yes I know who you are,” (Y/N) said after he did it for the 5th time.

David’s eyes looked up from his camera in surprise.  “I never asked if you did.”

An amused smile graced her lips as she raised an eyebrow. “Yea well, you weren’t asking very loudly.”

He chuckled and clicked a button on his camera to turn it off, putting on the table between them. “Sorry I’m just- well if people don’t greet me because they know who I am they almost always ask about the camera with the microphone on top of it. You did neither so…” David trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

“What are you doing out here anyway?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be in there filming some crazy montage or something?”

“I already have enough footage for one” he said with a smile, “- and I don’t have a lot of battery left so I’m saving it for the all the dumb shit my friends are gonna do in about an hour when they’re drunk off their asses.”

David leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, running a hand through his hair as he took off his hat and set it on the table. The weird shadow that had been casted on his face from it disappeared giving (Y/N) a good view of the light stubble that ran along his jaw.

“So what about you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her, then repeated her earlier question teasingly. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders and began to pick at her nails which rested in her lap. “My roommate took me out to celebrate taking our last final, but it took me coming to party to realize that I don’t quite like them.”

“They aren’t my favorite thing either, but I do like the stories they bring so I can always suck it for a few hours in the name of good content.”

“You mean clickbait?”

“Same difference.”

They both let out a laugh at that, then settled into a comfortable silence as it echoed off into the night sky.

Soft smiled adorned their faces as they held each other’s’ gaze. (Y/N)’s heart began to beat loudly in her ears as it thumped against her chest.

But if you were to have asked her what that meant she would’ve said it was because she downed a cup of lukewarm beer only 20 minutes prior.

David’s phone rang then, disrupting the trance.

He smiled sheepishly at her and muttered a quick apology before answering.

“Hello? Heath? Wait he’s doing what?”

A loud cheer erupted from inside the house at that moment, and (Y/N) knew that it probably had something to do with what David was talking to Heath about on the phone.

He stood up out of the chair quickly and grabbed his camera. “Be right there,” he said then hung up.

David turned to run back inside but stopped in his tracks right before reaching the door. He turned his head for one last look at (Y/N).

“Y’know, I never did get your name.” He had that confidant, boyish grin back on that always made people bend to his every whim.

“(Y/N),” she said with a smile. “It was nice meeting you David.”

He nodded his head. “You too (Y/N). Duty calls.” He held his camera up as another cheer came from inside the house and went inside without so much as a goodbye.

It wasn’t until he and his friends had already left that (Y/N) realized David left his hat with her.

  The first time (Y/N) and David could’ve found out that they were soulmates happened when they met for a second time.

Classes for her junior year of college had just started a week prior, and (Y/N) was still getting back into the swing of things.

That included remembering to set her alarm so she was up in time for her noon lecture.

(Y/N) was in such a rush having woken up late that she was shoving her notebook and pencils and pens into her bag as she sped walked out of her off campus apartment and onto the street towards her car which was parked a little ways down the road.

That was one of the downsides about not living in a dorm room anymore, the fact that she now had to drive to class instead of just walking. And since USC was in LA and she wasn’t a millionaire, (Y/N) couldn’t afford an apartment that came with parking so she spent at least 15 minutes a day wandering the streets trying to remember where she left her car.

(Y/N) turned around a particularly sharp corner, not watching where she was going, and let out a squeal of surprise as she colliding with someone and knocked her head against their chin.

They both stumbled back with a wince as (Y/N) dropped all her belongings onto the sidewalk.

“Oh shit sorry I’m- here let me help,” a familiar voice said, then leaned down to start gathering the papers before the wind blew them away.

“No it’s fine it’s my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she said doing the same.

(Y/N) stood up straight looked forward right as they did the same and held up the papers they’d gathered.

Her lips parted in surprise at the sight of thier face. “David?”

He squinted his eyes and tilted his head a bit. “(Y/N)?”

If either of them had been paying more attention to the pain they felt from running into each other, they might’ve realized right then that were soulmates.

(Y/N) didn’t think about the pain she felt on her chin even though she’d done nothing to injure it. She didn’t realize that it came from David’s chin knocking into her head.

David didn’t think about the pain he felt on top of his head even though he’d done nothing to injure it. He didn’t realize that it came from (Y/N)’s head knocking into his chin.

And because of that, they went right on talking.

David grinned as look of remembrance overcame his face. “We met at a party a few months ago didn’t we? At USC?”

She nodded her head, taking the papers from him and shoving them into her bag with the others carelessly. The corner of (Y/N)’s lips tugged upwards. “I’m surprised you remember,” she said with a laugh.

He ignored that comment and pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment before asking, “Are you doing anything right now?”

(Y/N) checked her watch and scrunched her nose when she saw the time. “Well I’m supposed to be in physics lecture but seeing as I’m now half an hour late…” she paused and looked back up at David, “No. I’m not doing anything.”

She furrowed her brows at him suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’m actually on my way to get lunch with Matt, Carly, and Erin,” he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction he was heading before they knocked into each other. “You wanna come?”

She repeated herself. “Why?”

David seemed a little taken back by that. “I don’t know you seem pretty cool and I,” he stuttered lamely.

“Yes” (Y/N) interrupted, surprising even herself. “I’ll go.” She gave him a gentle smile. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He nodded his head with a relived smile. “No problem, it’s the least I could do considering how I just kinda ran off last time.”

David gestured for her follow him and they started the trek to the restaurant, arms brushing against each other every few steps. “I think you’re really gonna like them, my friends I mean.”

  The first time (Y/N) thought she and David might be soulmates happened when he wanted redbull.

At that point they had been friends for almost 4 months. (Y/N) had made a few appearances in his vlogs, but she didn’t consider herself a regular because she was so busy with school a majority of the time.

Anytime David decided to go to USC for footage she accompanied him and helped them figure out where the parties were and how to get there. When he was done shooting and his friends wanted to continue partying, they’d do what they did the first time they met and sneak off somewhere quiet to enjoy each other company and talk.

(Y/N) definitely had a crush on David. That much she’d admit.

He was so much fun to be around, and he always managed to make her laugh. They could talk for hours about anything and everything and never grow bored of each other. His smile was contagious, and just being in the same room as him gave her an energy that made (Y/N) think she could take on an army emptyhanded.

It was intoxicating.

And that was a bit of problem, because for all (Y/N) knew at that point, David wasn’t her soulmate. And she was starting to worry about what would happen when she finally met him, if what she felt for David would just go away.

And her biggest problem was that she didn’t want it to, because she loved the feeling she got around David. She could live off it, and never tire of it.

She’d always go straight to his house on Thursday’s after her last class of the week, and hang out with him while he gathered last minute footage for his Friday vlog or simply edited what he already had.

On this Thursday, David already had enough footage for his Friday vlog. He shot with Howie Mandel earlier in the week and had leftover clips of him that he didn’t use in the previous vlog to put in.

(Y/N) was sitting on the couch in David’s living room watching reruns of Parks and Recreation with Zane, Natalie, Jason, and Todd while the owner of the house finished editing his video a few feet away.

Right as the show cut to commercial David shut his laptop with a groan and threw his back against the cushions. “I’m getting some redbull.”

“Hold on let me CNN on the phone,” (Y/N) said in a dramatic voice, pulling out her phone. “They’re never gonna believe this.”

A resounding chuckle erupted from around the room as David stood up off the couch.

“Haha very funny,” he said rolling eyes playfully, then went off into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Zane started, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Did I tell you abou-“

(Y/N) felt the pain in her side right before David’s yelled out from the kitchen, “Ow fuck!”

The way she sucked a breath in between her teeth and winced as her hand went to rub her side in an attempt to soothe the pain radiating from it went unnoticed by everyone around her because they all turned their heads towards the noise.

“You good Dave?” Natalie asked, ever the good friend.

He let out low groan and (Y/N) bit her bottom lip to stop from doing the same. Her side really hurt.

And when Jason asked David what happened, something in her already knew what he was gonna say because it was something everyone had done before in their life and never forgotten; it hurt almost as much as stepping on Legos barefoot.

“I ran my hip into the corner of the island,” he replied, coming into sight. He was holding his redbull in one hand while the other rubbed his side. “Makes me wanna baby proof this fucking house.”

(Y/N) sat up straighter and relaxed her face and body to look the part as if nothing were wrong.

While in reality, her mind was screaming almost as much as her hip was.

This had to be the most coincidental coincidence of all time. David Dobrik couldn’t be her soulmate... could he?

And the more she tried to convince herself that, the more (Y/N) realized that he just might be.

  The first time (Y/N) knew that David was her soulmate was the night Jason had her babysit Wyatt and Charley.

His ex-wife had a date with her boyfriend and asked Jason to watch after the kids for a night because she planned to spend the night at his house (awkward). Jason said yes, but one thing lead to another and he ended up having to go do something with David so (Y/N) graciously offered to watch over them for a few hours until he got back.

They were well behaved, and old enough to not be too much of a hassle. She made them dinner and cleaned up the kitchen before leaving them to their own devices.

When she went upstairs to check on them at 10:30, Charley and Wyatt were both already sound asleep in bed.

She watched TV downstairs for another hour until Jason got back.

He opened and closed the door quietly as to not wake the sleeping children. “Hey,” he said with a smile. “Were they okay?”

(Y/N) nodded her head with light laugh. “Yea perfect, way better than I was a kid I’m sure.”

She got up and turned the TV off then followed him into the kitchen to grab her keys and wallet. And maybe it was because Jason was a dad and old and wise and stuff that (Y/N) felt okay asking him the question that had been setting fire to her head for days at that point.

“Jason?” she asked, sounding a lot more timid then she wanted too.

“Hm?” He turned to look at her. “What’s up?”

“How do you-“ (Y/N) paused and licked her lips. “How do you know, like- for certain, that someone is your soulmate. Like I know there’s the whole pain thing but-“

“Hit yourself in the face,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“Me too.” He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. “Did Scott never tell you the story of how he found out Kirsten was his soulmate?”

She shook her head.

Jason let out a laugh and smiled wistfully as if the memory were his own. “Well, you know they met at Coachella right? And after Scott talked to her for a few minutes he just, I don’t know, got this feeling that she was the one, so he hit himself in the face.”

An amused smile broke out on (Y/N)’s lips. “Seriously?”

“Mhm. And when he looked down to see that she was cursing and rubbing her nose, Scott knew then and there that Kirsten was the one.”

“In a weird way that’s oddly poetic.”

“I know. It’s literally my favorite story of all time.”

Jason studied her a moment then cleared his throat. “But seriously (Y/N), when you know you know. I like to think that the whole pain and injury thing is for the cynics and pessimists who need some kind of proof before taking a leap of faith with someone.

“If you think you’ve met them, then you probably have. There’s nothing quite like it, nothing comes close to it.”

(Y/N) wanted to ask about him about Marney, his ex-wife, because they were soulmates and they didn’t work out. She thought better of it though because honestly, she wasn’t ready to go down that road quite yet.

“So….Who is it?” he asked.

She furrowed her brows. “Who’s what?”

Jason rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look. “Don’t play dumb with me, I’ve been around long enough to know how this works. You wouldn’t have asked that question if you hadn’t met someone you though had soulmate potential.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to retort but let out a sigh and relaxed her shoulders. “Okay fine, I have, but I’m not telling you anything.”

“It’s David isn’t it?”

Her lips parted in shock. “How did- how did you know that?” she stammered out, unbelievably surprised.

“I didn’t until just now,” he admitted with a proud smile. He settled his lower back against the kitchen counter and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “How long have you felt this way?”

(Y/N) eyed him suspiciously.

Jason held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t tell him anything, promise.”

She pursed her lips and looked down at floor in front of her feet, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “I’ve felt the way I do about him for almost 2 months. But the soulmate thing…” (Y/N) trailed off and looked up at Jason, “I just found out about that a few days ago.”

“How?”

“Remember when he ran into the island of his kitchen? I think-” she paused and shallowed harshly before continuing, “I felt it too. I’ve done it myself so I know what it feels like and…. and that was it. The pain I got in my side when he ran into it was that, I recognized it.”

It was quiet between them for a moment, the gravity of what (Y/N) said hung in the air.

“Do you want to know for sure?”

(Y/N) moved her gaze from the floor back up to him. “You mean right now?”

Jason nodded his head. “If you want to know why wait any longer? I can give you proof that David is or isn’t your soulmate in 2 sentences. Wanna hear them?”

Growing up, (Y/N) always imagined that her soulmate reveal would be something out of a Nicholas Sparks movie. She never pictured it happening in the kitchen of a divorced 40 year old who had two kids asleep 10 feet above their heads.

But life wasn’t a Nicholas Sparks movie, and (Y/N) couldn’t have another sleepless night before a test because she was too scared to face the truth.

So she bit her lip, closed her eyes, and nodded her head yes.

Jason hesitated a moment before speaking, the weight of what he was about to say was almost suffocating. “Two years ago for a bit, David and I started tossing wine bottles between us. He missed one and cut his hand so badly that we had to take him to the ER to get stitches.”

(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat as something she’d been wondering for years had finally been answered. She finally knew who her soulmate was, and better yet, what the dumbass had been doing to get such a deep cut on his hand.

“So?” Jason asked timidly after a beat of silence passed.

She opened her eyes with a soft smile and looked at him, her finger absentmindedly tracing the scar that ran against her palm from the stitches she’d needed there.

Not able to speak quite yet, (Y/N) just nodded her head.

Another beat of silence. “What are you gonna do?” he asked quietly.

She snorted and gave him a pointed look. “Well I can tell you what I won’t be doing, I won’t be slapping myself in the face.”

“Hey it was only a suggestion!”

  The first time David knew (Y/N) was his soulmate was when he accidentally shot her with a paintball gun.

She hadn’t wanted him to find out that way, with a paint bullet to the leg. She planned on telling him, really, but there just never seemed to be a good time to break the news.

What was (Y/N) supposed to do? Just walk up to David and say Hey guess what? We’re supposed to spend the rest of our lives together and get married and have kids and stuff isn’t that cool?

No. Only someone stupidly impulsive like Todd would ever do such a thing.

There would be a time when the stars aligned to create the perfect moment, just like the sight of David’s paintball gun aligned perfectly with Todd’s leg then.

There was this new thing David did where he’d give someone $100 and in return they had to agree to let him shoot them once anytime throughout the week with his paintball gun.

This week, Todd took the bait.

And today, David took his shot.

“Hey Todd!” he called out, coming out from his hiding spot in the hallway.

Todd whipped his head around, and the rest seemed to go in slow motion.

David took the shot, not seeing that (Y/N) was standing directly behind Todd because they were previously having a conversation.

Todd, so used to getting shot by this point, had honed his reflexes and jumped to side with almost super human speed.

(Y/N) and David both let out a yelp of pain as the paint bullet spattered onto her jeans. The gun clattered to floor and they both reached their hands down instinctively towards their leg.

Everyone went silent. Their eyes darted between the two of them with wide eyes.

“David…” (Y/N) said slowly, standing up straight. Her heart stopped as their eyes met. She opened her mouth to continue but couldn’t get any words out. Not knowing what to say, she looked at Jason for help, which didn’t go unnoticed by David.

“Wait.” He paused and looked at Jason then (Y/N), and she just knew that her eyes were betraying all their secrets. “You knew?”

(Y/N) was never good with emotions and reading people. She was always better at science and reading data from lab reports.

That’s what made sense to her, science. Not emotion. Not the look on David’s face. Not the feeling of dread that welled up in her stomach at his continued silence. Not the urge to cry she was suddenly hit with and fought off with all she had.

Having no idea what to say or what to do, (Y/N) went with her gut instinct and pushed passed everyone to get to the front door; and she didn’t take a second to breathe and calm herself down until she was already in her car coasting down the freeway.

She wondered if soulmates sharing pain extended past physical too emotional as well if it were strong enough.

She held herself together.

  The first time both David and (Y/N) knew with absolute certainty that they were each other’s true love happened when they kissed.

It started to rain on the way home back to her apartment. Of course it did.

When (Y/N) walked up to the entrance of her apartment building already soaking wet from having walked to it from her car in the rain, David was already there, also soaking wet. Of course he was.

They stood there in silence with three feet of space between them, staring at each other as rain continued to pour down from the heavens. Of course they did.

“How did you…” she trailed off, confused as to how he got there first considering she left before him.

“Tesla.” Was all David said, as if that answer alone could solve all the world’s problems.

He reached up and pinched his arm then smiled wryly as (Y/N) began to rub hers in the same spot with a hiss. “Sorry, just wanted to check,” he said.

Another moment of silence passed between.

David, realizing that (Y/N) wasn’t to talk, sighed defeatedly. He took a small step closer to her. “(Y/N) why did you- why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged her shoulders lamely and wiped some water of her face. “I don’t know Dave I just- I couldn’t figure how.” Her (Y/E/C) eyes met his as she said, “You have to admit it’s not the easiest topic to bring up.”

“How long have you known?”

“Three weeks.”

“And are you happy?”

(Y/N) pushed a wet string of hair behind her ear. “About what? About you being my soulmate?”

David nodded his head.

She snorted and smiled at him in disbelief. “Of course I am David. Why wouldn’t I be? You’re- at one point I liked you so much that I was beginning to worry what would happen when I met my soulmate because I was so scared of having to give you up.”

His expression softened at that, and (Y/N) felt her chest warm against the chilled rain pelting them from above.

“Are you happy?” she asked, heart hammering against her chest in anticipation. “That I’m your soulmate?”

David exhaled deeply like a weight was lifted off his chest. A smile broke out across his face. “(Y/N) I’m so damn grateful that it’s you. I can’t imagine it being anyone else.”

A crack of thunder sounded overhead as he reached out and pulled her face forward to meet his lips in a searing kiss.

His eyelashes brushed against her cheek along with falling raindrops as (Y/N) threaded her hands through his wet hair and kissed him back immediately with just as much intensity.

Anything that wasn’t able to be put into words was put it into that kiss.

And at that moment, there was no longer any shadow of doubt in either of their minds about being each other’s true love.

Because that kiss? It was everything.

Absolutely everything.

[msjr0119]

Why me?

Part 2 -Return to the Big Apple

Riley is forced out of Cordonia unknowingly to her friends, and moves back to New York.

She is later faced with her past from Cordonia and is hiding a few new secrets. With the help from her New York friends and friends from Cordonia will she escape her current situation and find her happy ever after?

Tags- @drakesensworld @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @choiceslover-24-7 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley - tagged the people who liked/reblogged the introduction.

“What do you mean gone? She’s probably gone for a walk or something?”

He knew she was upset, and people react in different ways to deal with stress. Riley loved the maze, he immediately thought she would be having some time to think there.

“Sir? All her possessions have gone. She’s left. I’m so sorry.”

Liam still in denial, couldn’t believe that she would leave considering what had happened to everyone last 24hours. They should all be uniting and fighting this together, but instead it was as if people were mourning- keeping their heads down low and the silent nods to each other acknowledging that everyone felt the same;shock, sadness, fear. It had affected not only the Crown and Royal family- but the country and her people as well.

Was she really that selfish? He thought, as he balled his fists and punched the mirror on her dressing table- shards of glass shattered everywhere. Liam bit his lip as he brought his hands over his face- the anger had built up an adrenaline rush feeling no pain as his fist his the glass. He knew he would regret this action once the effect of rush disappeared.

“I can’t believe her! She is unbelievable! What coward leaves when her friend is fighting for his life? Bastien get the guards to look for her now! In the meantime we need to go and see Drake. Show him that there are people here who care about his wellbeing.”

Bastien nodded, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t stop thinking about Riley. What exactly happened in the study? He already had doubts about Constantine’s story of events. Jackson Walker had previously warned him not to believe a word his majesty said when it came to protecting his country and any secrets that the crown held.

They arrived at the hospital through the back entrance to avoid the press who were camping outside the entrance like vultures. On arrival to Drake’s room, their friends looked concerned when Riley hadn’t accompanied them.

“If your all looking at me wondering where Riley is, she’s ran away. Only a coward would run. Leave her in New York, I am done with her!”

Liam spat at his friends, knowing what they were thinking wearing all the same facial expression.

“Liam, that is not Riley. She wouldn’t leave without saying bye!” Maxwell exclaimed.

“Maxwell. She has gone. End of story. Forget about her! We all need to forget about her! Now I’m going in to see Drake.”

Liam took a deep breath before entering the room, not knowing exactly what to expect when seeing his best friend laid up in the hospital bed- would Drake remember that night? He fixed a smile on his face before entering.

“Drake! Glad to see that you are awake. You gave us all a fright! How are you feeling?”

Drake removed his oxygen mask slowly, and tried to get comfy - his facial expression showing him hiding the excruciating pain he had.

“Like someone shot me! How do you think I feel Li? Where’s Brooks? Is she okay? I didn’t think.. she was just stood there... I...”

“Drake, she’s erm.... she’s fine. But she’s returned to New York. She doesn’t want anyone to contact her.”

“What!!! Are you kidding me? I need to see her Li! Why didn’t you stop her?”

The blood pressure machine that was connected to drake was going ten to a dozen. He really didn’t need anymore stress. Riley was the love of his life- the only woman who understood him and all his flaws.

Anger was building up inside of Liam. He didn’t have chance to stop her. He didn’t know. Was his anger based on Riley leaving or was it a mixture of emotions from the events that had happened the night before? Just as he was going to answer, the Doctor walked in.

“Mr Walker, I’m Doctor Ali. You need to calm down. We don’t want you to injure yourself anymore. We are just going to check your observations and the wound. When you arrived, we cleaned it up but you needed emergency surgery. You lost a lot of blood during the surgery and your blood pressure increased more than we expected it to do. We thought your body was potentially going to go into Hypovolemic shock. However we managed to stop the bleeding, you are on the road to recovery, thanks to Lady Riley’s quick thinking and the response time from the paramedics. We will keep you in for a few days for observations, then we will discuss discharging you.”

Both Drake and Liam nodded, as Doctor Ali updated his records and walked out of the room. Both their hearts sank at the mention of her name.

“Li what does he mean by Brooks’s quick thinking? What the hell happened?”

Liam didn’t know himself, he had been escorted out by a group of the kings guard. Guilt began going through Liam’s mind that he wasn’t able to help his friends and his people. Thinking about how to respond, he was interrupted as Bastien walked in.

“Drake my son. It’s good to see you! .... And to answer your question- Lady Riley ripped her dress apart and tied it around your wound to add pressure to prevent the bleeding. You wasn’t responding and she began CPR on you until the medical assistance arrived. She ignored the Kings orders to get out for her own safety.”

Both men looked at Bastien, with tears falling from their eyes. Drake had saved her life, and she refused to leave him and help save his. Liam wiped his wet cheeks and turned to Bastien, feeling guilty about what he said about Riley when she had left.

“Bastien, have you got any updates on Lady Riley’s whereabouts?”

“Unfortunately not Sir. But we are working on it. Before she left, I saw her....”

Bastien pauses as he began thinking about whether he should tell them the truth about what he saw- jeopardising his job. He didn’t want them to paint a bad characteristic of her, she loved them both. And she deserved more respect.

“And!” Liam raised his tone.

“And.. I found her in the study with a red arm, she was emotional and the King Father was on the floor in pain. I assume they had a fight. I heard her scream my name and I immediately ran there. That was the last time I saw her when she left the study... the last thing she said to me was ‘Excuse me’.....”

********

The note was written and her bags were packed. Riley snuck out of the palace, hoping she didn’t see anyone- this was like mission impossible considering how many of her friends were staying at the palace. Not to mention all the kings guards on duty for the extra security. Once she had walked out, she turned back to face the beautifully designed architecture of the Palace. It was still like something out of a fairytale, the swaying trees following the direction of the night air, the lights making the whole area sparkle like crystals. All the memories she had came flooding back.

Fighting back the tears she got in the car and went to the airport- never looking back.

Goodbye Cordonia. I’m sorry.

Riley had fallen asleep on the flight back to New York, even though she was fighting it. She awoke to the Pilot announcing that they was landing shortly at LaGuardia Airport and to prepare for the landing. Rubbing her puffed up eyes, she put her seatbelt back on and got all her belongings together, ready to leave immediately after they had landed.

Once they landed, checking through the security was quick. She stepped outside, breathing in the cold New York air, waiting nervously for the shuttle bus to the taxi stand. Eventually it was her turn for the next taxi, getting in feeling exhausted and not knowing where to go, the driver asked “where to Miss?” She knew the only place where she would see a friendly face- The Dive Bar, Lower Manhattan.

It had started raining, Riley had no coat so ran out of the taxi and towards the bar. After crossing the road, she felt someone grab her arm. She screamed thinking about Constantine doing the same thing, the flashback appearing in her mind. The person who grabbed her, pushed her to the floor and stole her purse. She couldn’t even identify what they looked like due to them wearing a hoodie covering their face.

For fuck sake. This is karma for being such a failure at everything.

“Hey! Are you okay? I just saw what happened? Bastards! Do you want me to run after them?”

Riley looked up at the man, he was handsome she thought, even when he ran towards her out of breath. He put his hand out and pulled her up. She stared into his baby blue eyes, they sparkled. His hair was dark and wavy. Riley couldn’t deny that he wasn’t good looking, he was like her knight in shining armour.

“Erm, thanks but they will be long gone now. Fools on them- there was only a few dollars in it. I’m Riley.”

“Cooper. Nate Cooper. Nice to meet you Riley. Are you from around here?”

“I used to be. I’ve just returned home after a few months away, I am never leaving ever again.”

She laughed to cover the hurt she was feeling, all the emotions she had been through in the last 24hours.

“Nice to know your not leaving. Could maybe meet up at some point?”

“Yeah sure.”

Nate handed her his business card with his number on it. Riley stared at it as he gave it her, debating whether to actually contact him or to just throw it in the bin.

Of course he’s a lawyer, Riley thought- the price tag of that suit would explain it all. Although the stereotypical image of a lawyer is to be arrogant and dishonest. This man gave the first impression of being anything like those stereotypes.

“Ring or text me when your settled back in.”

“Thanks Nate. I will. Goodnight.”

**********

Riley walked towards the bars door, hesitating, thinking what if Daniel didn’t work there anymore? Meeting Nate made her blank thoughts about Cordonia for a while. It’s good to be home- she thought. It’s going to be okay.

Riley entered the bar, it was still the same shithole, with the same regulars slumped up against the almost empty bar. She spotted a man who turned around with a surprised expression.

“Riley? Oo my god! Are you okay?”

Riley ran up to her friend Daniel, hugging him so tight that he could have easily suffocated before she burst into tears.

“Hey hey, what’s happened?”

Daniel wiped her tears away, placed his finger under her chin to lift it up, so she had eye contact with him.

“Dan, I’ve fucked up. My life is a fucking shitstorm waiting for more shit to happen. I’m so annoyed with myself, and how my decisions have always been wrong. Can I have a whiskey please? Or maybe 2 or 3? You’ll have to put it on a tab though....to make things worse I’ve just been mugged outside.”

She forced a smile and sat down in a booth- her hands covering her face, the rain water dripping from her long natural curly hair onto the table. Daniel grabbed her a drink and joined her.

“Don’t worry about the tab, this is on me.”

“Thanks. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Nah, I technically finished ten minutes ago. You staying in New York?”

“Yeah I’m back home. Can I stay with you until I get back on my feet?”

[jennifersylvesters]

not so subtle - part nine

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader Word Count: 3.4k~ Warning: swearing A/N: happy galentines day!! i don’t think there’s much to really say about this besides it’s the valentine’s day part. hopefully you like it. be loving and remember that feedback is always appreciated/loved aka i’ll love you forever and possibly send you a valentine’s day heart

There were three simple words that were often used during the month of February. They weren’t used lightly, holding a substancial impact whenever spoken. Everyone heard those three words at least once in their lives that you thought constantly: Fuck. Valentine’s. Day.

It was the inevitable truth that Valentine’s Day was a spit in the face to single people. “You’re absolutely lonely? Well, suck it!” the holiday sneered at your misfortune. And lucky for you, it included a punch in the gut and a swift kick in the ass.

Everyone you knew seemed excited for the upcoming holiday. Kimberly gushed about her special evening plans with Sarah while Tom excitedly boasted how he planned a surprise date for Emma.

“I’m gonna have it all romantic looking like ‘Lady and the Tramp’” he spoiled to you. “And then I’m gonna have Tessa wearing a little bow and give her a bowl of spaghetti too. It’s gonna be really cute!” Shit - that did sound adorable.

“I hope Tessa gets sauce on your carpet” you told him, letting your envy get the best of you. Tom’s eyes grew; he was caught between being offended and worried about needing a carpet cleaner on standby. Sure that wasn’t particularly nice, but this holiday made you feel like the Grinch.

The only good thing about the miserable day were the candy sales. While you could do without the heart shaped, well, everything, it was easy enough to pretend you were buying it for someone special. In you case, you were buying it for yourself. And you a special person. A special idiot who couldn’t snag a boyfriend. But at least you could snag a couple boxes of chocolate for a discounted price.

There was only one plan for that night: you would order massive amounts of takeout and then pig out while watching terrible romantic comedies. “This is self care” you justified to yourself. This is totally acceptable behavior.

Night time rolled around on the worst day of the year, and you comfortably settled into your couch. You were half an hour into “10 Things I Hate About You”, carelessly tossing chocolate into your mouth as you waited for your dinner. Hearing the doorbell chime, you grunted pushing your junk food to the side.

“Coming” you called out as you shuffled to the door.

Your eyes widened as you swung the door open. This definitely wasn’t your delivery person. You slammed the door on their face, trying to figure out if you were hallucinating. Did you purchase weed brownies? Unlikely. Looking at the junk food, there was nothing you could think that would be laced with drugs seeing as you bought them all yourself.

A couple knocks brought you back to reality. Shit. You tried to calm your heart rate before you opened the door once more.

Harrison still stood in front of your door, looking confused as ever. “You do this to all of your guests?”

“Just the ones that aren’t welcome.” The words came out easier than you expected.

He smiled and rolled his eyes as you pulled the door open wider. The two of you had only seen each other once since the “normalcy agreement”. Tom had invited all of you to get dinner together a couple weeks ago, and you couldn’t say no to a free meal. It was surprisingly easy to slip back into your old ways, groaning at Harrison’s narcissism and stupid quips. He, in turn, teased you back and this somehow seemed to ease the rest of the group. Things could finally go back to normal.

But it felt strange seeing him at your door. Was showing up unannounced part of the new normalcy? Or was there something else going on?

“...Really?” he asked, tugging slightly on your oversized shirt and pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What?” Your face heated up. Obviously you hadn’t expected any visitors. Was he expecting a ballgown?

He looked behind you at the mess surrounding your couch. “Really?” he repeated, judgement clear in his voice.

“This is my apartment! You can’t insult me in my own place!”

He strolled into your living room surveying the state. You were tempted to tidy up, get everything neat for him. Then you realized he wasn’t even your guest. If anything, he technically barged in. If you felt like it, you could totally call the cops on him. You weren’t going to, but you liked knowing that was a possibility.

He placed a hand on the couch, looking at all the junk food surrounding the couch and table. “It’s a bit of a pathetic way to spend Valentine’s Day, really” he critiqued shaking his head. Like you needed his damn sympathy.

“Bitch, you’re here too!” you snapped.

“Yes, but I had a date planned.” You eyed him suspiciously. Why on earth would Harrison Osterfield skip a date just to come and criticize your single lifestyle? That was unless he didn’t have an actual date. No, he probably did. But maybe he cared about your wellbeing? Sounds fake, feels fake.

“Go on your date then” you insisted, wanting him to leave.

“Nah.” He took a seat in the center of the couch - your favorite spot - and sprawled his legs onto the table. “I think I’ll just relax here” You rolled your eyes as he spread his arms on the tops of the cushions like he was king of the upholstery.

Bouncing onto the couch, you shoved him to the side claiming your rightful middle space. If this was your house, you were at least going to enjoy that while he was here. As he argued that guests should get whatever space they chose, you pointed out that he wasn’t actually a welcome guest.

Harrison scoffed, pretending to feign sadness. “I’m not welcome here?”

“When were you ever welcome here, Lil Shit?” you laughed.  

And as the two of you continued to bicker, there was something friendly in the feuding now. There was no malice in your words, just a teasing nature the two of you enjoyed. You couldn’t help but sarcastically give him grief about his supposed “hot date” and how he just abandoned the poor girl.

“Of course Osterfield would break another heart. And on Valentine’s Day! The scandal!’

He snickered at your comments, shaking his head.

“What about you, huh? You should’ve at least called someone over for a date! That way Tommy wasn’t freaking out that you were crying by yourself.”

“Oh, so you admit you didn’t come out of concern but because Tom forced you to?”

“I came here because I knew how much you missed me.”

You burst into laughter. Of course his narcissistic ass would make this about him. “You wish.”

“I know. I’m truly the greatest gift to mankind. Your welcome.”

You couldn’t help but crack up at that. Had he always been this funny? Or had you been so focused on hating him to notice that Harrison could surprisingly make a joke. You always assumed it would be at your expense, but things seemed different.

Even as he jokingly gave you a difficult time about your choices - “Really? Just this chocolate? And where’s the alcohol, Y/N?” - it was..fun. By the time your food came, you hadn’t realized how half an hour had passed so quickly.

You grinned when you opened the door to the delivery man. Turning to Harrison, you announced “Finally! A welcome guest in the apartment.”

Harrison stood up, raising a brow at the amount of food ordered. “You were going to eat all of this?” he questioned at the large bag.

“Don’t judge me” you scowled, taking the heavy container.

“When do I not?” Fair point.

As you rummaged around for your purse, Harrison pulled his wallet out. “What’re you doing?” you asked, still searching for your own.

“I’m paying for the food.” He pulled out a couple twenties and slid his wallet back into his jacket. You furrowed your brows, putting your hand on his.

“Hey! You don’t have to do that-”

“I’m doing it because I want to.” Why? That’s not what normalcy was for you two. Normalcy would be you paying and him continuing to mock your ravenous appetite.

“Yeah, but it’s my food. I’m obviously going to pa-”

“Y/N, I got this.” He smiled at you, and it made you soften. You could let this slide this time. After all, it wasn’t like you got treated out very often. You could think of a million reasons to justify that this was fine and that nothing special was happening. Just let him do this one nice act. That’s all.

“I’m not gonna share with you just because you’re paying” you commented, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Even with those stubborn words, it took no more than five minutes for you to crack and share the food with him. You told yourself that it was a lot for you to eat and that you’d still have leftovers. Not like you cared about Harrison starving or anything.

The two of you chatted during the movie, him giving useless commentary while you pointed out how annoying he was. Somewhere in the midst of all of this, both of you came to the conclusion that you needed to have a snack and alcohol run. And as the movie ended, he waited patiently for you to throw on a jacket before heading out to the nearest grocery.

It was strange to think that the last time you had been in his car, you had been crying over a boy that broke your heart. Yet here and now none of those miserable feelings lingered. It was just a comfortable ease around one another. The car was filled with pop music from a local radio station, both of you humming along till you got to the store.

As he pushed a cart around, the two of you squabbled about what to get. Either you wanted something that he didn’t or vice versa. As you chucked in a pack of Oreos, he picked them up and tossed them back at you. “No. Absolutely not.”

You scoffed, putting them back in. “First you reject my idea of gummy worms, and now you don’t like Oreos? What kind of monster doesn’t like Oreos?”

“Someone who enjoys actual good snacks. Tell me, Y/N: how is it even possible for a person to think that Cadbury isn’t great, hmm?”

“Excuse you, Osterfield. I said it was fine, but we have chocolates back at my place. Why waste money on a different brand of chocolate?” This earned you an eye roll. “Also Oreos are certifiably the best snack. Sorry your bland British taste buds can’t taste joy.”

“I’m sorry you somehow enjoy artificial sugar and the taste of cardboard.”

You flipped him the bird and smacked your lips together before squeezing the box of Oreos to your chest. “I say it goes.”

“Then by all means put it in the cart, love.”

You froze hearing that nickname. That definitely wasn’t part of your normalcy. He saw your tense position and immediately began pushing the cart pretending he hadn’t said that. “C’mon now, Lil Skunk. Haven’t got all night.”

Taking a deep breath, you followed him acting like that hadn’t flustered you. Things were fine. Things were normal. So you decided to go back to hounding him about how he should’ve let you get those amazing gummy worms.

The two of you proceeded to act relatively normal, arguing about your wine choices at check out. He insisted on buying a full bodied red while you knew that a good (and preferably cheap) white or rosé was the only way to go. As you lightly elbowed him - he deserved it for saying you had the worst taste - the cashier woman smiled at both of you.

“Oh, the two of you are so cute together. You remind me of me and my husband twenty years ago” she reminisced.

Your face flushed at the comment, taking a step back from him.

Harrison on the other hand just politely smiled as he swiped his credit card.

Neither of you wanted to acknowledge the comment, pretending as if it didn’t happen. If you ignored those thoughts, it was as if they didn’t exist. Things will stay normal if you remind yourself to keep them that way.

Arriving back at your apartment, the two of you decided to go back to your original Valentine’s Day plan and watch more movies. Scouring through the DVD options, you deviously grinned as you held out the next movie to watch.

“‘What’s Your Number’? Isn’t that one with-”

“Chris Evans!” you squealed excitedly. “God, he looks so good in this movie.”

Harrison groaned as he tried to find another option. ‘The Proposal’ or even ‘27 Dresses’ were films he’d rather watch, but you shook your head at his suggestions. You were set to drool over a shirtless Chris. Either Harrison could watch with you, or he could leave. Without any fight at all, he chose to stay. You told him how you had every intention of pointing out how dreamy Chris was, so much dreamier than Harrison. He just scoffed, telling you to just put in the damn film.

As Chris popped up within the first five minutes practically naked on screen, you screeched and smacked Harrison’s arm in excitement. At first you were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice how Harrison didn’t care about it in the slightest. Instead he watched you, observing your face light up comedic moments and cringe at embarrassing scenes.

“Oh my God! I forgot that Chris Pratt was in this movie too!” you awed as you turned towards Harrison. You flushed realizing that Harrison hadn’t been paying attention at all. He simply smiled at you refusing to break eye contact. He wasn’t ashamed to have been caught looking at you. This consistent staring rattled you, and you turned back to the screen.

Just pretend things are normal. That was a goddamn struggle. You could feel him watching you now, and suddenly you were self conscious about the way you were eating the snacks. You found yourself leaning forward, almost trying to get away.

“Y/N, is your eyesight that bad you have to get that close to the screen?” he teased you.

“Fuck you. If anything, I’m just sitting up close to take in all of Chris Evans.” You could do this. You could be normal around him. You could at least pretend that you weren’t nervously sweating.

“I’m just saying. Your television screen isn’t that small. You can relax, you know?” Of course you could. Except no, you couldn’t. Not with how you were now watching him out of the corner of your eye. Who the hell eats chocolate that sexy? Still you wanted to prove to him - to yourself - that you could do normal.

So you scooched back, finally letting your back rest against the cushions. You settled into the plushness, still continuing to pop in a chocolate bar into your mouth. This is normal. It was easy enough. Just focus on the handsome man on the screen and not the one sitting right next to you.

Then he yawned loudly - almost comically really - as he stretched out his arms, letting one gently rest on your shoulder. He was doing the oldest clichés in the book. It was so transparent. So idiotic. But if you knew this, why let him do it?

What made it worse was how you liked his arm around you. You eyed it, almost unsure if it was really happening. Hadn’t the two of you decided to go back to the way things were? If that was true, Lil Skunk never would let this happen. Lil Skunk would’ve kicked his ass and told him to keep his hands off. Lil Skunk would’ve forced him out of the apartment telling him to stop being such a flirt.

Yet none of that was what you wanted. That aggressive normalcy wasn’t there anymore.

So you leaned in to his side, snuggling closer to him. He said nothing, only wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You leaned into his chest as he gently rested his head on yours. This unbelievably comfortable presence felt nice. And you knew it wouldn’t have been the same if it had been anyone else.

As the movie played on, you enjoyed being there in that moment. Everything just felt...right. You didn’t mind him whispering comments, his breath brushing against your hair. You enjoyed the way his hand gently rubbed your arm. You felt safe and sound. But was this right? Was this your new normal?

You pulled away slightly, causing him to raise his head. You turned and looked at him, meeting his gaze. The two of you lingered a couple inches away just searching each other’s faces.

“I thought you were gonna tell me how much dreamier Chris Evans was compared to me” he reminded you, voice soft as it gently tickled your face.

“H-He is” you swallowed nervously.

“If you say so” he murmured, looking at your lips as he moved in closer. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling him closing the gap between the two of you. This wasn’t part of your normal in the slightest. But normal was highly overrated.

BANG. “-and she said that too!” Your eyes flew open, whipping your head around to see Kimberly and Sarah stumbling into the apartment giggling like maniacs.

“Oh! Hey, Harrison!” Kimberly greeted the Brit as she gave him a polite wave, still clutching onto Sarah’s hand. “Always nice to see you here.”

Are you fucking kidding? You wanted to throttle Kimberly, toss the snacks at her, and tell her to get the hell out of here. Eat your girlfriend out somewhere else.

No, you loved Kimberly, but she had ruined...Something. You weren’t even sure what would’ve happened after. All you knew was that you wanted to kiss him. But did he feel the same way?

You looked over at Harrison whose face reddened as if he got caught doing something naughty. He obviously hadn’t been expecting them to show up. Harrison muttered something about needing to go as he hastily stood up and threw on his jacket. Don’t go. You couldn’t find yourself to say those two words, just wanting to keep him there for a little bit longer.

Before you could do anything, Harrison was rushing out the door. You slipped on a pair of flip flops and scampered behind him as you tried to catch up. The flimsy shoes made it difficult for you to run.

He fumbled with his keys, only turning as he heard you clacking up behind him. He looked nervous, flexing his left hand open and close as he glanced from you to his car. He looked so unsure of himself, brows knitted and mouth in a hard line when you finally caught up. It was the same look that he gave you in Vegas before he stormed off. This time you weren’t sure what you could’ve done to warrant that expression.  

You opened your mouth to say something. Don’t go. Come back inside. Stay with me. But you couldn't ask him to do that. That wasn’t fair to him or to you.

Maybe fate intervened at the right time. Maybe you weren’t supposed to kiss. The two of you wanted to keep things normal, and that would’ve messed everything up again. Kissing wasn’t normal. Having his arm wrapped around you wasn’t normal. Asking him to stay? Those words definitely weren’t part of your normalcy. 

The wind breezed by, brushing roughly against your bare arms and legs. Your teeth chattered as you rubbed your arms for warmth.

Harrison sighed, taking his jacket off and putting it around you.

“Oh, you don’t have to” you tried taking it off, pretending like the cold didn’t bother you.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling the jacket closer on you. “I already told you. Take better care of yourself, Lil Skunk.”

You watched as Harrison gave you a weary smile before slipping into his car and revving it up. It took off and down your street. Leaning out, you watched it turn into a mere speck in the distance.

As the wind nipped against you once more, you put his jacket on properly. Raising the oversized sleeves up to your face, you inhaled and took in his familiar scent. Your eyes closed wishing that it wasn’t his jacket but him holding you. Everything from his smile to his touch had you wanting more. You wondered when you’d see him next, just wanting to be around him.

Oh, fuck.

The awful realization set in: you definitely fell for Harrison. You dumb bitch. 

tags list: @sleepybesson, @tomhaz, @supernatural-girl97 | @almostrosadiazz, @alt-ernativewonderland, @blackstarryroses, @butithasntkilledyouyet, @chims-kookies, @choke-me-sweet-pea, @deleteidentity, @divosterfields, @highladyjel, @hollandhearts, @jessiq31, @kateelyse96, @kayla-m1996, @mylifesucksbuthereiam, @otheenglishsetters, @sadnoelle, @sarcasticvodka, @sleepwalkingdragon, @soccerstud004, @spider-mendes, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @wolvesofthewinter

bold means that i couldn’t tag you

part ten

[hamlets-ghost-zaddy]

it happened during lunch period

Babe Heffron x Eugene Roe 

Summary: (Teacher AU) Bill is a hardworking math teacher with few wants in this world: eating the taco salad made by his wife for lunch in peace being the most reasonable of them (in his humble opinion). However, his best buddy, Babe Heffron and his spiraling panic over the new anatomy teacher, Eugene Roe, would disagree.

The door to the classroom eases closed after the final pack of kids, tottering off in a slow-moving herd to stuff their faces with the cafeteria’s consistently mediocre food, and Bill watches it inching closed slowly, slowly, just a few more millimeters and he can safely reach for his taco salad, it’s almost there—

“Bill!”

The door swings open, banging against the outside yellow lockers outside, and admitting a fast-moving orange-haired blurred into the sanctity of Bill’s classroom. Bill’s eyes don’t properly register the blur or its hair (though Bill has a ground total of two friends in this school who have enough disregard for their own wellbeing that they’d interrupt his lunch hour, and only one of them has red-hair) until Babe Heffron has his palms splayed on Bill’s desk, leaning over to emphasis the seriousness of his declaration: “Bill, we have a serious problem.”

Bill’s not sure when Babe started to use plurals when talking about his personal issues. He can’t say he likes it.

“What?” Bill asks before shoving Babe’s hands off his desk adding, “Remove your grubby mitts.”

Babe doesn’t let Bill’s tone—equal parts exasperated and annoyed, and no parts concerned, which would be truly ideal—deter him. He slumps into a recently vacated student’s desk, dropping his forehead into a hand. “We got to do something. It’s Eugene Roe.”

“Who?” Bill grunts, opening the lower drawer of his desk and fishing out the Tupperware container of taco salad Fran sent to school with him. They traded who was on lunch prep duty every other day and, while Bill is mighty proud of his chicken salad sandwiches (thank you very much), he also will be the first to admit Fran makes a bombass lunch.

“You know, Eugene Roe, the anatomy teacher?” When he’s met with a blank stare from Bill, Babe expands: “The new one?”

“Ah,” Bill grunts, prying the lid off his lunch before fetching out his fork (real metal because Bill loves the Earth, double thank you very much). “Why didn’t you say that to begin with, huh? Expect me to know the science department’s names, Jesus fucking Christ.” The rivalry between the science and math departments—crammed into the same wing of the school the majority of last semester after the Physics teacher, Speirs, allowed his students to catapult a Barbie (a Barbie on fire, no less) into a pipe of the water main thereby flooding the science halls—is well known. And, really, English teacher or not, Babe knows better than to mention a science teacher to Bill.

Babe’s expression is decidedly unimpressed. “Bill, you wanna hear the problem or not?”

Bill considers saying ‘no’ as he crunches into a bite of lettuce, tortilla, and ground beef. Then again, his only other lunchtime entertainment would be grading quizzes, and Babe’s problem is bound to be less depressing than fifth period’s attempts at trigonometry. “I mean, if I have to,” Bill replies.

Encouraged, Babe lifts his face from his hand, only to use to it to wave and illustrate his story. “I’ve gotta say something to the guy, Bill, I just don’t know what; I mean, he’s a new colleague, I can’t—”

“Babe, you’re spiraling,” Bill observes. He learned the term from his buddy, Lewis Nixon, the psychology teacher, during a faculty meeting the other week (in true form, neither were paying actual attention to what the school district’s superintendent, Sink, was saying) and Bill is probably, admittedly, using it wrong. Still, it feels right.

It does seem to do the trick because Babe cuts himself off to heave a sigh. He gets to the point: “The dude has been dropping my packet copies off in my room—like, he even came in during the middle of one of my classes! Like, yeah, he apologized and everything, but it was so unprofessional! And then he showed me these notes he took during the faculty meeting—”

“Wait,” Bill interrupts, mouth full and ranch dribbling down his chin. What can he say: he’s a man of refinement and culture. “He took notes during the faculty meeting?”

“I know,” Babe nods, vindicated. A spark in Babe’s eyes, a spark Bill associates with discussions of Sunday night football, bottomless wing deals from Buffalo Wild Wings, and first editions of Steinbeck novels, lights in Babe’s eyes. “Like, seriously, who the fuck does that?”

Stuffing his face with more taco salad to disguise the slow-growing, shit-eating grin curling his mouth, Bill echoes: “Who the fuck.” (Though, it’s around food, so it sounds more like the caterwauling of a minorly inconvenienced cat).

“It made me look like I wasn’t paying attention,” Babe adds.

“You weren’t paying attention,” Bill corrects, because he can’t let the implication stand: if Bill or Nix—or math department head Joe Toye, or chronically grumpy Johnny Martin—weren’t paying attention, there was no way in fuck Babe Heffron was paying attention. “Plus,” Bill drawls, “He did save your ass; Webster would have dragged you if you couldn’t come up with the name of the new book they’re wanting for Common Core. And he’s insufferable enough as is. Remind me why the fuck we decided to invite him to Tuesday morning coffee?”

Frowning and looking uncharacteristically thoughtful—Bill wonders if smoke will start pouring from Babe’s ears, his brain is working so hard—Babe mutters, “We wanted to give Liebgott someone to fight with, remember?” Pause. “Can’t believe they’re replacing The Great Gatsby with John fucking Green.” Another pause. “Like, seriously, if that’s the administrations idea of author diversity and representation than—”

Sensing a brewing literature rant that will ruin any enjoyment he’ll have eating his taco salad in all statistical probability (especially as he is getting to the guacamole layer), Bill hastily prompts: “Babe, you were griping about Roe?”

“Oh, right,” Babe says, shaking his head as if to physically clear his brain of any further mutterings of ‘manic pixie dream girls’ or ‘romanticizing sicknesses.’ “So as if the copies, the interrupting class, and the notes aren’t enough, this little twerp—” Bill’s eyebrows furrow: twerp? Really? “—goes and fricking—! I mean, get a load of this: I let him use one of my whiteboard markers and instead of giving it back, he buys me a new pack! It was one of my good markers, too!”

“What happened to the original one?”

Babe shrugs. “Roe said some kids exploded it over a Bunsen burner.”

Bill opens his mouth to ask, decides he doesn’t want to know, and instead settles on, “Let me see if I got this straight: he delivers you copies of your lesson material so you don’t have to walk to the copy room way over in the BFE, he helps you not make an ass of yourself by filling you in about the meeting, and not only replaces your shit but gives you more than what you gave him to begin with?”

Nodding furiously through the whole summation, Babe declares a heated: “Exactly!” when Bill finishes, punctuating it. Red has risen in Babe’s cheeks, fiery enough to rival his hair, and his fists have clenched tight. “He’s making me look bad, Bill! Like I can’t function by myself as a teacher or grown-ass adult! I know he’s new and we have to create a welcoming work environment, but, seriously—”

“Babe,” Bill intones, because for all that his friend’s an idiot, this—by Bill’s estimation—is Babe really outdoing himself. He can’t stand how embarrassed he is for him. “Babe, you’re mad because Roe is being nice to you.”

“’Nice?’” Babe echoes, spluttering and choking over the word. The eloquence of an English teacher. “What? ‘Nice?’”

Bill nods gravely. “Nice.” To emphasize his point, he crunches into some particularly crisp lettuce.

“I—uh—what—?” Babe squawks. “Bill, ‘nice?’ What do you mean?”

“You’re an English teacher, Babe, you tell me what ‘nice’ means,” Bill retorts, casting his eyes to his classroom’s ceiling as if asking for divine intervention—or maybe Carwood Lipton’s intervention, his classroom directly above. When he returns his eyes to Babe, he finds the red, formerly staining his skin, drained, leaving Babe gaping like a gutted fish. Taking pity, Bill sighs and tries a different tactic, “Kid, he’s not trying to undermine you. He’s trying to be nice.”

“But, Bill,” Babe protests weakly, “Why would he be that ‘nice?’” The implication of Babe’s dubiousness over if it truly is niceties compelling Roe’s actions heavies Babe’s words. “I mean, he’s not that ‘nice’ to anyone else.”

“I don’t know, Babe,” Bill says, though he knows full well why. “Have you done anything nice for him?”

“Well there was that one time I bought him coffee, and I, uh, I told him his tie is nice, and…” Babe trails off. Bill watches with perhaps too much interest as Babe grows yet paler. He hadn’t thought it possible and, if Bill didn’t want the entire science department to drown in a Second Great Barbie Tsunami, he would have reported this preternatural phenomenon to them. Babe’s rambling thoughts, meanwhile, only allow him to get out a single: “Oh. My. God.”

Shoveling more ground beef into his mouth, Bill intones: “You’re spiraling again.”

Babe drops his forehead into his hands—both of them this time—and lets out a long groan. “Oh my god,” he repeats, “Do I have a crush on Roe? Does he have a crush on me?”

Eating the last of the taco salad, Bill confirms: “Definitely spiraling.”

[bamby0304]

With Wolves- Ch.4

Series Masterlist Bamby’s Masterlist

Summary: Known as The Omen, your reputation puts fear in some of the most dangerous and deadly Alphas. So when you’re caught and sent to the worst maximum security facility unknown to man, no one expected an unclaimed Omega to walk through the gates in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. Word circulates, and before long there’s a price on your head. Who will claim the untamed Omega?

Series Taglist is Closed

Warnings: Explicit language. A/B/O dynamics. Prescribed experimental drug use. Mentions of violence.

Bamby

You were sitting in the cafeteria, minding your own business- which you’d successfully done for the past three days- when two large, imposing, and impossible bodies took the empty spaces on either side of you. The roll of your eyes was automatic. The tightening grip on your plastic spoon was an attempt not to lash out. The way the hairs on the back on your neck stood to attention was involuntary.

“Go. Away.”

Dean shook his head as he sat on your left. “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s not happening.”

Turning to him, you glared. “It is taking a lot of self-control not to kill you right now. So, I repeat, go away.”

“We’re here to help,” Sam assured you from your right.

Spinning in your seat, you shot him a glare then. “How many fucking times do I have to say this? I don’t need help.”

“Maybe right now.” Dean shrugged. “But you’re gonna need some friends eventually, sweetheart. This place can get pretty… lonely.” His hand reached out to brush some hair from your shoulder.

You snapped.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled him away from you as the fingers of your other hand wrapped around his throat. You jumped out of your seat, pushing him back into the concrete table so the edge dug into him uncomfortably as your claws pricked at his throat.

Sam was up a fraction of a second after you, ready to tear you away from his brother. But one look over your shoulder with a shake of his head, Dean silently told Sam to back off.

Once he was sure Sam wouldn’t lay a finger on you, Dean’s eyes returned to yours. “Sweetheart… let go.”

“No,” you snarled, snapping at him, your chest heaving.

He stayed calm even as blood rolled down the column of his neck. “Do you want the guards to sedate and throw you in the Pit?”

Eyes tearing away from Dean, you glanced over at where the guards were now watching the two of you intently. One in particular was drumming his fingers on his gun, watching, waiting, as if he was itching to lock you away. As if he was praying you’d give him a reason to stick you with a needle and then stick you in the dark.

Growling lowly, lightly, out of frustration and anger, you released your hold on Dean and pulled back. You bumped into Sam and stopped, neither of you moving as you focused on Dean. He wiped the blood from his neck, looking down at the red on his palm. There was a flash in his eyes, something that made your insides twist in a way they hadn’t before… a way that actually felt good. But you ignored it, pushing it away.

“You are going to be a handful,” Dean chuckled as he pushed himself up to his feet. “I like that.”

“I hate you,” you countered, still feeling that anger bubbling away. It wouldn’t take much for you to explode.

Eyes raking over you, Dean shook his head. “No, you don’t. You just won’t admit it.”

The three of you stood there, oblivious to the expectant crowd in the dining hall. They were all hoping for a fight. All praying for some action. You’d come to learn that there wasn’t much to do in this place, so whenever a fight broke out it drew numbers in like moths to a flame.

“Y/N.”

A beat passed before you tore your eyes away from Dean and turned to the new voice. It was a man, a Beta, and a doctor. You could tell by the white coat he wore, which you felt was a little cliché but this place had practically come out of some horrible action movie set, so you weren’t that surprised.

He was a little older than you, short, completely unintimidating. He had a British accent, you noted, recalling the sound of your name coming from him. Dark hair, slightly styled, and no doubt dyed. Friendly eyes that looked a little too warm and welcoming on a staff member of this facility. He looked odd in comparison to everyone else you’d come across since arriving days ago.

“Yeah?” you asked, suspicion and curious.

The doctor’s lips pulled up into a smile that was a friendly as his eyes. “Come with me, please.” With no other words he turned on his heels and stalked away.

Pausing a moment, you glanced over at Dean one last time. He grinned and winked at you, causing you to glare at him before you took your leave and followed the doctor.

***

The door shut behind you, the doctor closing off the rest of the world, leaving just the two of you in his office.

“Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the medical bed in the middle of the room.

Doing as he said, you moved over and pulled yourself up onto the bed, taking a seat. You felt weird, like you wanted to be uncomfortable but you couldn’t find any reason to. This guy seemed nice enough, and there was nothing threatening in his scent. You felt as if you could trust him.

That fact gave you hope that he might be able to aid in your inevitable escape.

“I’m Dr Davis, but you can call me Mick.”

“I won’t,” you grumbled, still twitchy from your incident with the brothers. “Probably gonna call you Doc, to be honest.”

He chuckled lightly. “Well, considering there are two doctors, that might get a little confusing.” He pulled a chair over from the desk, and sat down in front of you. “I get the feeling you like nicknames, they give you a sense of control and ease.”

“If this is some psych eval, then I’m gonna pass.” You went to push off the bed, but stopped as he lifted an arm in your way. Eyes glaring, you looked from the arm to his face.

Quickly, he lowered the arm and pulled back a little, but not out of fear. You sniffed the air and noticed that there wasn’t a speck of fear on him. It was unnerving. People usually shook in their boots at just the sound of your name. A glare from you could make people literally shit themselves. But this guy? This guy didn’t move because he thought you might snap or attack. No, he moved for you. To give you space. To allow you some of that control and ease he’d just mentioned.

“If it helps,” he went on normally, as if you weren’t still glaring at him, “the other doctor is a female. Maybe you can come up with gender specific names?” He shrugged casually, watching you with a light smile that actually reached his eyes.

Your glare went from warning to curious as you shifted back onto the medical bed again. “Why aren’t I seeing the female doctor?”

There was no hesitation when he answered, his smile falling completely, “Because you don’t want to. Trust me.”

That didn’t sit right with you. Not the trust part, but the fact that he clearly didn’t feel great about his co-worker. Were they incompetent? Were they rough? Were they uncaring? You guessed most staff members in a place like this would be uncaring, but this guy and Chuck hadn’t been too bad. Maybe you’d just been lucky? Maybe they were taking pity on the Omega?

Clearing your throat, you moved on, “So, why am I here, Doc?”

“Routine check-up. We do them weekly, but in your case, I’ve asked to see you a couple of times a week.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a fool, Miss Y/L/N. You’re an Omega locked away in a prison full of Alphas. You’re the first female we’ve had in this facility, and the first woman these men have seen in years. Decades in some cases. I’m concerned for your safety and wellbeing.”

“I’m a killer,” you noted. “You think they threw me in here for some entertainment? No. Well,” you paused and thought about it for a moment before shrugging, “I get the feeling some find it amusing. But I’m not here for no reason.”

With a short nod, he responded, “I’m aware.”

“But you’re still concerned for me?” you asked, watching him curiously and sceptically. You just didn’t believe the guy.

He simply shrugged. “As a doctor, I’m concerned for all my patience.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “Can we just get this over and done with? This place smells too clean.”

“Okay then.” Standing up, he moved back over to the desk and grabbed a box. Your eyes focused on the box as he headed back over and sat down once more. “Chuck told you about the pills, right?” he asked, getting a nod in return. “These are it.” He opened the box and showed you the little yellow pills inside.

Tearing your eyes away from the pills, you met his gaze and saw something that didn’t say right with you. “They’re not gonna work,” you stated plainly.

“I know.”

If there were some magical pills that could keep an Omega from having her heats then they would be advertised all over the world. Sure, there were some out there that could delay the heat for three to four months, but the end result of those were usually messy… and by messy, you meant hot, sticky and always kept the Omega in bed for days on end.

You doubted that’s what Chuck intended in your case. The last thing he would want was for you to be hit with a heat that’s twenty times more intense than usual. It would drive the Alphas into a frenzy. People would end up dead… and you’d more than likely be one of them.

When he’d mentioned the pills that first day, you’d known the truth he was too blind to see. An experimental drug. It made you scoff. Of course they were handing it out to someone like you. Why would they try something that dangerous on a normal Omega?

By the look on Mick’s face, and his response to your statement, you got the feeling he would have tried to change Chuck’s mind. If he really cared about his patience, Mick wouldn’t just let you go on these. He knew there were three likely ways this would end.

One. You’d end up having no heat for months, just like the other pills. But considering these are supposed to delay them for six to eight months, the heat that would follow would be far too dangerous. It could kill you, or get you killed.

Two. It would do absolutely nothing. That’s best-case scenario. You would continue getting your monthly heats, which you’d grown to deal with for year now. You knew how to defend yourself with a normal heat, so there wouldn’t be too much risk.

Three. The pills would backfire, screw up your cycle, and give you more heats than usual. That was the worst thing that could happen… and you had a gut feeling that’s what was heading your way.

“Could we just lie?” You looked back down at the pills again. “No one has to know I didn’t take them.”

Sighing, Mick shook his head. “You have to take one of these every night. A guard will come to your cell and give it to you. He will watch and inspect you to assure that the pill is swallowed. If they find out you somehow didn’t take it, they will throw you in the Pit as punishment… and then they will make you take the second experimental drug.”

“Why do I get the feeling the second drug is worse?”

“Because it is. It’s a concentrated form which is given weekly… though an injection.”

You shuddered at the thought. Needles were a no-go. You hated needles.

Watching you, he nodded knowingly. “Just take the pill.”

***

Mick had given you a look-over after he put the pills away. You didn’t have one while in his office. Someone would come by your cell before lights out tonight, just like he said they would, and give you a pill then/

If you were being honest… you were concerned. Heats could be bad normally, but add some weird experimental drug into the mix and they could seriously fuck you up. This was not the kind of place where someone like you should go through something like that. On a good day, you were at risk. On a bad day, you were meat.

Sitting in the yard, in a corner you’d claimed as your own for the day, you fiddled with the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. You were deep in your own thoughts, guards lower than usual. It was no wonder you were caught by surprise as someone approached you. Fortunately, they weren’t a threat. Unfortunately, it was Castiel.

“What did the doctor say?”

You didn’t bother looking up at him as you responded. “They’re putting me on drugs.”

“For your heats?”

The roll of your eyes was automatic. “Obviously.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

So, he did just that. Well, he tried… “You need an Alpha.”

In an instant, you were up on your feet and stalking towards him until there was barely an inch between the two of you. Castiel was taller than you, but compared to others he didn’t look as domineering anymore.

“I don’t need anyone. I especially don’t need an Alpha.”

But, of course, he disagreed. “If you do not bond with someone you will be torn to shreds when your heat hits. No pill will keep them away forever. Your cycle will finish, your heat will come, and most of these animals will eat you alive… quite possibly literally.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’ve seen you during your heats. I’ve seen how bad it can get. Don’t lie to yourself.” Turning on his heels, Castiel walked away, leaving you standing there with your thoughts and worries as a storm whirled inside you. This time, though, it wasn’t a storm made from anger. For the first time in a long time, you were actually scared.

***

Lying on your back, looking up at the bottom of Kevin’s bunk above you, your thoughts continued to whirl. You head hadn’t stopped since you left the doctor’s office. His words, and Castiel’s, had plagued you. Not only that, but all those eyes watching you were starting to set you on edge.

Never had you felt the need to be claimed.

You weren’t some crazy man hater. You craved touch like others. You just despised the idea of being owned. Growing up, you heard stories of what it’s like to be Omega. Children don’t tell ghost stories around campfires anymore… they talk of the horrors that are Alphas, and the terrors they bestow on the weak.

Omegas were weak by natural. You had to fight against your own biology in order to become the person you were. It had taken years of training and punishment for you to become so ruthless and heartless. It had taken a close call to shock you into action.

The thought of going through something like that again… you still had nightmares from that night. You still felt the hands and claws clutching and digging. Still felt him…

“You okay?”

Jumping at the sound of Kevin’s voice, your eyes went wide as his head popped over the edge of his bunk so he could look down at you. He was concerned, you could see it. You could sense it. Just like he could sense something was clearly wrong.

Over the three days you’d been here, you and Kevin had actually become somewhat friends. He didn’t hang out with you once the cell was unlocked in the morning, but he was always there at night. When you couldn’t sleep and needed someone to chat to, he was always willing to stay up and be that person.

Never had he asked why you tossed and turned once sleep took over. Never did he question why you tried to distract yourself from the still night silence. Never did he comment on how different you were once the sun was down.

You were a new person in times like this. A person who was easy to talk to. A person who was willing to listen. A person who could laugh without sarcasm, smile like you meant it, joke around, open up a little, and be a little more pleasant than usual. A person Kevin had come to quite like.

When you finally answered his question, you surprised both him and yourself, “Ever get the feeling your time is running out?”

Kevin’s eyes were comically wide… well, they would be if it weren’t for the circumstances. You meant it. Deep down, you could feel something big was going to happen. You could feel something bad was going to happen. You didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Y/L/N!”

Sitting up, you watched as a guard came up to the cell bars. He was dressed in the all black uniform like the rest of them, only his head clear of clothing. In an instant you recognised him as the one who had been watching you with the Winchester, waiting for you to do something stupid.

Not wanting to give him a reason to throw you in The Pit- because you got feeling a sneeze would trigger this guy- you stood and moved to the bars. There you waited as he pulled out a small yellow pill from his pocket. A grimace tried to fight its way out of you, but you held it back, not wanting to piss the guard off.

Opening your mouth, knowing the drill, you stayed perfectly still as he reached in closer and placed the pill right on your tongue. Then it was his turn to wait as your mouth closed, the pill effortlessly sliding down your throat due to how small it was.

“Let me see,” he ordered, and you noticed then that he had a British accent.

Doing as he said, once again, you opened your mouth to show him that the pill was in fact gone. He paused a moment, a flash of disappointment crossing his features, before he nodded and stepped back. Not another word was said as he walked away.

You waited a moment, just in case, but once you were sure he was really gone you headed back to bed. Kevin was watching. He’d been watching the whole thing. By the look on his face, there was something you ought to know about the guard.

“Get the feeling he’s a bit of an ass.”

“He’s the biggest ass,” Kevin told you, shifting so he too was lying back on his bed. “His name is Ketch. He’s the only one who will punish you for breaking the simplest of rules. The rest just sit back and watch. A lot of stuff happens that shouldn’t, but they don’t care. We’re animals to them. But Ketch?” You imagined Kevin shaking his head.

You hummed, thoughtful. “I would have thought he’d like to watch the violence, too.”

“He does. He just prefers to watch it go down in the Pit.”

At the mention of this ‘pit’ again, you felt your curiosity rise. “This pit as bad as it sounds?”

“I’ve never been down there myself, but Sam and Dean have. They go down there a lot, actually. This is probably the longest they’ve been out in months…”

Not surprising. You thought to yourself. Dean’s a pig-headed Alpha, and Sam follows him like a duckling.

“From what they’ve told me… it’s dark, wet and cold. There’s a few lights, but most of them just flicker. It’s this long room lined with cells. I think it used to be solitary confinement down there, but then they just locked the place down, and started throwing people in. Sam says there’s a window where guards watch the fights.”

Listening to Kevin, you were shocked. This place seemed like it ran smoothly. Sure, there were at least three fights a day, and someone had their throat ripped into with teeth yesterday, but that all seemed expect. The Pit, though? That sounded barbaric. It reminded you of the gladiators in ancient times. It sounded horrible.

That gut feeling churned again, reminding you of your worries.

“What happens down there?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure you already knew. If what you assumed was wrong, then you weren’t sure you’d want to find out the truth.

“Most of the time the Alphas just fight until someone submits.”

That’s what you’d guessed. But there was something about his response that you didn’t like. “Most of the time…”

Knowing what you were asking, he filled in the blanks, “The rest of the time… well, not everyone comes out in one piece. Betas never come back out...”

Everything inside you sunk as that fear from earlier grew. If Betas didn’t fare well down there… you needed to get the hell out of here before you crossed a line that could cost your life.

Bamby

[backtodc]

As fun as it is to throw salt at Gosho I think this could be a good time to talk about some good DC cases. So, which are your top ten cases so far?

Hmmm, this took some thought–presented chronologically because I couldn’t pick preferential order XP

Billion Yen Robbery (013-016): Even disregarding its long-term impact on the plot, this case on its own had a good twist in how Akemi disguised herself and the lies she told to track down her robbery partners. I’m always a fan of people, rather than going for big heavy-duty disguises, just using little details of makeup and presentation to completely change their appearance. Ran’s big heart was evident in this case and how strongly she felt about “Masami”‘s safety after just meeting her twice, and this one also what is still one of my favourite ninja-Ran moments to date. Potential kidnapper/murderer across the street? Maybe we should call the police, or run down the stairs OR I GUESS WE COULD JUMP OUT OF A FIRST FLOOR WINDOW AND CHASE HIM ACROSS THE STREET AND DO A FLYING KICK TO DESTROY HIS CAR WINDOW AND ALSO HIS NOSE

Akemi’s death opens up a shitton of plot, and, despite how it gets slightly overused later on (not quite to “did you know Bruce Wayne’s parents got murdered” levels but definitely a biiiiit overused) it’s still one of the most genuinely tragic deaths, especially since Shinichi admitted his real name to her to try and offer her some comfort as she died. TEARS Q_Q

A Haunted Mansion Murder Case (017-019): The case that introduced the Ayumi, Mitsuhiko and Genta. I always think of this one quite fondly. It had a genuinely creepy atmosphere–the “haunted” mansion looks the right side of cliche-creepy, especially once it turns out there’s actually someone around, and honestly I can forgive the incidents of the kids wandering off alone and vanishing because they’re six, of course they’re gonna do silly shit like wander off alone in a haunted mansion. And the truth of the matter is something that’s vanishingly rare in Detective Conan, something I wish we saw more often: a crime of passion. 

There’s no clever trick to the murder: the son, Akio, just loses the rag under a torrent of verbal abuse and smashes his father’s head in with a candlestick. There’s no clever trick to the cover-up, either; his mother messed with the crime scene a bit and reported it as a robbery, and given that the family’s obviously very wealthy, money probably changed hands if any investigating officer did think to suspect anything other than a robbery. All she’s thinking about is protecting her son from the consequences of his crime; all he can think about is his guilt and horror over the murder he committed. The case goes from genuinely creepy to honestly tragic. It’s a proper emotional story, and at no point do any six-year-olds have to witness a human corpse, which I’m always in favour of. And I like Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi and I’m glad they were introduced shut the fuck up

The Hatamoto Family Case (020-025): This was another case with good creepy atmosphere, a solid closed circle situation, classic big fucked-up family situation but at the heart of it, Natsue and Takeshi are a genuinely sweet couple who really don’t deserve all this bullshit and you spend the case really hoping for them to be safe and things to turn out okay for them, the traumatic deaths of several close relatives aside. The murderer is pretty sad, though I feel like Gosho intended him to be more sympathetic than he actually was–he certainly could’ve done with less abuse from his grandfather and been allowed to emotionally invest in his art more, but the cousins thing aside, murdering multiple people over a girl you’ve never even approached marrying somebody else with whom she’s had an actual relationship and is in love with is… not sympathetic. But I’m also glad that the nice chef uncle came out alright too, and that all three of the sympathetic family members reappeared in later cases since they were all very likeable characters. 

Moonlight Sonata (062-067): This one sticks in a lot of people’s minds, and I think it’s for the same reason that the haunted mansion case sticks in mine; atmosphere. This is another one with a good, genuinely creepy atmosphere from the immediate sense of “small town with a dark secret” we get as soon as the Mouri Detective Agency arrives on the island. Gosho was very good at building these atmospheres once upon a time, I would’ve liked to see him write a horror manga. The case is deeply tragic from start to finish, from the murders of the Asoh family, to the fact that Seiji/Narumi got the idea for the “curse” from playing a funeral song for a man who’d just had a heart attack after admitting to murdering their family, to the complex nature of Dr Asai’s grief and guilt that they felt the need to avenge their family but simultaneously called for a detective in the hopes that they’d be stopped, to their suicide at the end because they can’t live with what they felt obligated to do. There are Gosho’s usual… issues… with gender, and given the bigotry that became obvious later he probably had no clue at all what he was doing with Dr Asai’s gender, but I feel like they weren’t handled unkindly for an AMAB character living as a woman? I could be wrong and I wanna open this one up to the trans folk in the audience because I’ve never found a trans fan’s commentary on Dr Asai and how they think they were handled, but goddamn I still cry thinking of their suicide at the end and I appreciate that this was a one-off case that had a visible long-term emotional impact on Conan.

Magic Lovers’ Murder Case (192-196): As well as being an interesting murder involving some quite sympathetic characters, this is a really good case for seeing what Kaitou Kid’s like under the mask (or was like; I feel like he’s lost depth since this?) as expressed through Katsuki Doito. He came along to investigate suspicious user activity, but he joined the magic-lovers’ forum because he is a nerd for stage magic and stage magicians and enjoys nerding out about stage magic and stage magicians. He gets to unapologetically fanboy over his late father with other magicians, with is pretty goddamn cute imo. He also gets to show off knowledge and fondness for other magicians, and his knowledge of magic tricks is useful in solving the case, even though, by his own admission, he’s no detective, and it led to tragedy. We don’t really see how Kid felt about being unable to prevent that murder, since he was still being played as pretty mysterious at the time, but it was a good choice for his second appearance in DC imo since it cemented him as Not A Bad Dude. Also, Conan gets to be one of Those Shonen Protagonists by running across a burning bridge, which, y’know, is always cheesy, but also always kinda cool (the artwork was particularly effective imo)

Twilight Mansion (299-302): I genuinely enjoyed the gathering of the knock-off famous detectives and was pleasantly surprised by Hakuba’s appearance (back when I still held out hope that that kind of thing meant that Kid would get more involved in the plot). The mansion itself is actually quite gorgeously designed and rendered, especially at the end when the exterior crumbles, and again, DAT CREEPY ATMOSPHERE. I guess it’s officially plot-important now, too, which I just wanna say, I officially called nine years ago, but also I was hardly the only one calling BO involvement with Karasuma. 

Most of all, in general, I just really like watching and reading things involving skilled people being very competent at what they do, so the fact that ALL of the gathered detectives (save that one dead one) figured out what was up and were able to communicate and come up with a plan without revealing themselves to the brilliant detective BEHIND the whole thing, and the execution of that plan, were all very, very good and I liked it. I might reread this one right now, actually, while I’m thinking about it, I really do enjoy it top to bottom.

Golden Apple Case (350-354): PEAK interesting backstory on the part of Vermouth and Yukiko, a reasonably interesting murder, Yukiko’s RAD driving scene, and one of my favourite Ran moments ever. The confrontation with the serial killer/Vermouth is tense as hell, and the fact that Ran reacts instinctively to save his life and just can’t bring herself to drop him and let him die, to be responsible for a death, no matter whose, is a very powerful statement on the integrity of her character. She’s just to her core, and Shinichi does steal the moment a bit by helping her pull the serial killer up and getting the really good “you might need a reason to kill, but you don’t need a reason to save a life” line, but this still feels entirely like a Ran moment for me. We find out later that this incident had a profound effect on Vermouth, too, and is possibly the entire reason she’s hiding Shinichi’s secret from the BO and explicitly the reason she doesn’t want Ran to come to harm. Shame we haven’t had much Vermouth character development in a while because this stuff was JUICY.

Two Cases Under One Moon (429-434): An ICONICALLY good Bo-fightin’ case where everybody involved is putting in Maximum Effort. Heiji puts on an extremely good show as a fake Shinichi (the boy’s an extreme drama queen and Heiji does that very well), Yukiko’s disguise skills are valuable and well-used, we finally get the revelation that Vermouth has been Dr Araide for a while AND that she’s maybe immortal (…not… that we’ve gotten ANYTHING on that since..) AND we get the VERY interesting nature of her feelings concerning Shinichi and Ran. Also, we get Ran so concerned about Ai’s wellbeing that she hides in a car boot and then jumps into gunfire in order to protect her, GOD that’s SUCH a good Ran moment. Shinichi, Jodie and Akai all also get to be very brave and very smart and very badass, and ugh really I just wanna go back to everything about Vermouth in this case and explore more of that forever. Please. Also more Jodie, whose backstory we finally got in this case after revealing that she’s not Vermouth. What is it with interesting women disappearing as soon as their backstory is out MOVING ALONG 

Clash of Red and Black (595-609): This case is a cracking case. This one was long and complicated and many-layered and everybody involved was on their highest gears and it was great. Akai and Conan work as a fantastic team and Conan gets free reign to do some very good detective work for the FBI (I still believe he told Akai who he was during this case, it would make sense and undercuts how concerned I am with all of these grown adults letting a six-year-old run all around an active incident). We get a good look at the incredible power and cruelty of the Black Organization when they cause immense collateral damage just to flush the FBI out. We get the story on both Akemi and Akai’s relationship AND the Hondo family, and OH BOY THE HONDO FAMILY.

It’s also one of the most interesting Eisuke cases, imo, where not only does he do some solid investigation to find Mizunashi Rena, we get a glimpse of some real deep trauma over losing his last family member that’s driven him to be willing to attack Rena with scissors out of desperation to get answers about what happened to his father and sister. I mean, I am most definitely not advocating stabbing coma patients, but for Eisuke a lot of the trauma of your whole beloved family dying or disappearing was just implied and not explored, and then he got booted from the series immediately after things got interesting with him, so bleh. We also barely see Hidemi after this, and ?????????? because she’s a CIA agent who’s in DEEP to the BO after surviving a HORRIFYING situation where she has to proudly boast of murdering a man who was secretly her FATHER, who SACRIFICED HIS LIFE TO PROTECT HER… why are we dicking around so much with Mystery Family instead of exploring this one??? This case is kind of the last hurrah for anything interesting happening with the Hondos so I love it for that.

And I love the complicated counter-bluff involved in delivering Kir back to the Black Organization without looking like they were delivering her. Again, this was apparently in exchange for her assisting the FBI and she barely appears after this…? Nope this isn’t about salting at Gosho moving on

The Life-Threatening Broadcast of Love (804-808): I love this one solely and 300% for the part where Miwako Sato jumps out of a helicopter, shoots a noose off of her boyfriend’s neck, grabs him, wraps her coat around him to protect them and knocks both of them out of the range of a bomb blast at the last second, like the goddamn action hero that she is.

So in no particular order, those are my top ten: how about the rest of you?