#must have been something where they had drinks? or maybe were reacting to something drinks related

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

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Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

[drdawnbreaker]

𝐒𝐡𝐡, 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 || 𝐑𝐄𝟒 𝐋.𝐊

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Summary: Imagine a vampire au with Leon, but in this case. He is the human, and you are the vampire. And you are very, very thirsty.

Word Count: 2.57k

Warnings: Blood. Making out. Pet names. Mention of cannon level of violence and death. Dry humping, pussy cupping. Forgive me

Notes: This is my first time writing Leon, so please be kind ahh. I tried my best, ahhh.. enjoy!! Also, i thought of RE4!Leon? But mixed with a bit of death... idfk at this point, hehe.

So you both work together, and you get along well with each other compared to the others in your units. And one day, Leon had been assigned to work a recon mission along with a small team. He hates teams. But when he found out you would be there, he felt slightly at ease. What he wasn't looking forward to was working with several of the other shitty men. When he walked onto the jet, all he heard were mutters of "Why is she here?" "Do we even need her?" "I heard she's only here cause of her hacking skill set"

If only they knew.

Yes, you were incredibly intelligent and good with computers, that's why the government liked to keep you around. But something not a lot of people know about, including Leon, is that you had two choices, join and serve or rot in a cell. Of course, you picked somewhat freedom.

Onto the mission at hand. To say, it went to shit was an understatement. You, Leon, and the others were trapped in a church somewhere off the track you needed to follow. There was a swarm of ghoulish creatures. Someone must have tipped your opponents off.

It had been almost 3 hours when you started to feel it... the hunger. You had packed blood shots for this exact situation, but alas, your pack was lost when you found yourself running away from a pack of clickers. The dryness in your throat, the over-sensitivity of hearing. Even the sun that was shining through the high windows began to sting your eyes.

You needed a drink.

But none of the men here knew, nor did you want to reveal such a big part of your life to some random soldier who only wanted to get into your pants.

What about Leon?... no. You couldn't ask him. Not when he got so much on his plate as it is. Your gaze caught Leon sitting on a few old boxes, staring out the window aimlessly. He is a good man, strong, caring, and plus he was understanding. He never held anything against you. If you needed to slip out for a moment, he never asked why. He wouldn't judge you... you hoped. "Uh..Hey Leon.."

Your voice sounded so small, not to mention the cracks hidden beneath it as you held yourself from jumping him. You could hear his blood move in his veins, going straight for his heart. Fuck.. You needed a drink now before you lost control. Worry began to seep through your being at the thought of losing yourself for a moment in front of any of the men in this room. None of them would think twice about putting a bullet in your head. Heck, you think they’d probably enjoy it. Take one for the team and all that bullcrap.

“Uh..L-Leon.” Fuck, why did you sound so small. “C-could I talk to you for a second…Alone.”

Leon’s stoic face quickly snapped to one of concern, knowing you weren't the type to ask for anything. “Y-yeah sure, doll. Are you okay?”

God, if he called you doll again, you might just lose it.

“Y-yeah I’m fine. I just need a favour.” Guiding Leon to one of the back rooms where you know none of the others would venture, you felt your hands start to shake from the mixture of hunger and anxiousness… this was a mistake. You thought, pacing the room. Leon could see the way your body was fighting for something, or against something maybe? Whatever it was, it made his instincts react highly. Grabbing your upper arm, he gently tugs you so your whole body could face him before he gently cups your chin so you could look at him.

“What's the matter? Talk to me?” Leon’s first thought was you might have been bitten, but then you would have shown symptoms by now and turned within the first hour, so it wasn’t that. Maybe you're catching a cold? Or a slow-acting virus could have gotten you. Whatever it could be he was ready to help in any way he could. “What do you need, love?”

“You can’t freak out. Okay..” That was the first time in this whole situation that you spoke without stumbling over your words. Everything just got real, really quickly. “There was a reason why the government kept me around. There was an agreement on my behave…I either serve this country or die…”

“Why are you telling me this?” Leon wouldn't lie and say he wasn't curious as to how you got into where you were today, but he wouldn't have thought you were forced. Not by a long shot. You always carried yourself as if you somewhat enjoyed this job. Saving people, killing monsters. You did it with flying colours. It was your calling…isn't it?

“I lost my pack and they had my vials in it….” You gulped before looking up at Leon, staring into his soft, lost eyes. “They were my food… without them I have to drink from a main source.”

Main source? Vials? What on earth are you talking about? Leon’s grip didn't falter as he asked, “What were they?”

Closing your eyes for a moment you took in a deep breath, trying to calm your shaking nerves. Okay, do or die here. He either is completely chill or…. You didn't want to think of the latter. “Please… don’t be mad.” You opened your eyes, revealing the dark pools of crimson that you normally tuck away. Feeling your monstrous half front, causing your senses to heighten more, letting you not only hear Leon's blood pumping inside of him, but smell it too.

“Woah…” Leon muttered, but yet he didn't move. His hands kept where they were and his gaze never shifted. He watched the different shapes of red dance in your eyes and it was then he understood what was going on, what you were. He’s never run into vampires before, but he’s knowledged about them. On one half, you have the rogue vampires,━ghoulish creatures that have no humanity whatsoever━, and then you have the humanist versions. A kind of half and half. He never would have expected you to be one… but then again. “This explains so much.”

“What?”

“I mean... You always only need a couple of hours of sleep. I’ve never seen you eat food other than quick protein bars and you took down Chris one time in the training ring. He’s still trying to figure out how you got the upper hand on him but you..being.uh.. This. no wonder.” Leon spat out word vomit before he could even notice what he was doing, basically confessing that he watches you…all the time. You couldn’t help but laugh;

“He was already cheating…” Your eyes squinted as you gave Leon a toothy smile, making Leon look down at your little k9s. He feels slightly guilty now, he should have picked up on it, should have noticed you were different. He would have helped you sooner, kept an eye on you more closely just in case you ever needed it. You cleared your throat, making the soldier shake out of his deep thoughts; he noticed you were now looking down at the floor, picking at your short, broken nails. “So..y-you’ll help me.”

Leon was so caught up in the newfound knowledge he almost forgot why you even told him in the first place. “Oh..yeah, I’ll help. Whatever you need. I’m here.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders just from his softly spoken words. No further words were spoken as Leon gently retched to cup your cheek, an expression of curiosity and calmness painting his handsome features. He guided you to the floor behind a couple of crates and other shelving and boxes so if someone were to come through the door at least you both would be covered to give you enough time to clean up.

The room felt like it was silent except for the sound of your shaky breath and Leon's heavy breathing pooling out of his nose. With his legs spread his lap was inviting as you settled onto him without as much of a peep from either of you. This was intimate, way too close for two friends; heck, you didn't even know if you deserved to be called friends. You only saw each other on the job. Would he think of you only as a mere college? Someone he's just helping out with a favour? But yet the way his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his heaving chest, said otherwise. It was like Leon was trying his best to reassure you through his movements, letting you know you were safe with him.

“Where do you want it?” His voice was deeper than normal. It caught you off guard as you couldn't help but look at him with confusion. So Leon repeated, correcting himself slightly, “Where do you want to bite me, Doll?”

His tone was calm yet laced with anticipation. You gulped, whispering in a reply, “W-where do you want it…Leon?” You don't know why exactly but it felt right to let him decide where you drank blood from. You already felt bad for asking, so this was, in a way, letting him know you wanted him to take the lead. That he was the one with all the power, not you. He didn’t answer with words, as you expected… He instead moved to the buttons of his shirt, slowly unfastening them one by one, exposing his neck in silent invitation. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air thickening with unspoken tension. His skin was so soft, silky, your fangs could easily pierce the delicate flesh…“A-are you sure…”

You needed to ask him, almost pleading with him to reassure you. It was one thing confessing a crush to someone or exposing some weird secret you might have had as a kid… but this was you, exposing the biggest part of yourself and asking for help. His hand gently came up to your head, patting you with so much care it made a lump form in your throat, “It’s okay Sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere until you’ve had what you need.”

Your fangs grazed his skin shakily as your breath pooled on his hot skin. You could feel his pulse throb, and blood pump faster. He was… excited? Why would he be showing signs of excitement in this kind of scenario… “Leon..”

You didn’t know if you were saying his name for a warning, a question or a plea but Leon’s firm grip never faltered as he dragged you closer until your chest was flushed against his. “Shh, drink baby.”

Leon let out a deep groan followed by a broken gasp as your sharp fangs sunk deep into his flesh. The pain was almost immediate but what followed next caught him off guard. “Fuck, ngh.”

Leon knew some myths that vampires had special abilities, including a venom that could help ease the pain when drinking from someone. In this case, it can create a sort of pleasurable barrier, and he was now certain this was true as a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins straight to his cock. His hehazyl back against the wall, his eyes closing as he savoured the indescribable sensation. Your lips were like clouds against his skin while your tongue was squishy, lapping gently against the small entry wounds, soothing it even as you drew blood from him. Blood richer than any you’ve ever tasted. You’ve almost forgotten how pure blood tastes, having drank diluted packed and almost stale blood for so long. You couldn’t help but moan as you swallowed each gulp, saLeon'sng Leon’s flavour.

Before either of you could process what was happening, your body began to move, your hips grinding against his clothed core, making Leon’s hands instinctively move from your waist to now grip your hips, hard. Guiding you as you humped against him. Your rhythm is frantic and desperate as you drank him in, in more ways than one. The taste of his blood was so intoxicating, and you were slowly losing yourself in the sensation, your senses overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth of his body. Your moans grew louder even though they were muffled, movements became more urgent, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pa ressed yourse.lf closer, seeking friction, seeking release.

“F-fuck baby, if you keep d. Otherwise,’m gonna..” Leon didn't finish his sentence as a sweet moan slipped from his lips into your ear. His cock hardened beneath you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he fought to keep control. “S-slow down.”

You wanted to listen but you couldn’t. The combination of his blood and the feeling of his body against yours was too much, too overwhelming. You needed to pull away, stop before you drank him dry. So with much force, you yanked yourself abruptly, your fangs sliding free of his skin, letting blood drip from your lips and down your neck. Your chest heaved as you panted, your eyes wild, glowing as he stared up at you through hazily eyes. “I-I’m s━.”

But before you could say anything, Leo,n stood, lifting you with him with litlazy no effort. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he pressed you against a nearby wall. “Don’t ever fucking apologise.”

His lips crashed down on yours, his tongue demanding entrance, tasting the coppery sweetness of his own blood on your tongue. Your hands flew for his hair, tangling them in the strands, tugging. Small whimpers were swallowed by Leons dominating tongue, as he moved his hands down, tracing your curves frantically before finally slipping along the waist of your belt. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Leon’s hot breath tickled your face as he pulled back, your eyes gazing down to watch him easily pop your pants open. You were already soaking wet, your cunt throbbing with need, and Leon could tell you were just as excited as him. His fingers slipped in, getting dangerously close to your clit but before you would feel the sweet release of his touch;

“Leon I nee━Kennedy, L/n. we’re rolling out.” A loud call alerted both of you, the man's voice laced with frustration. You felt slight relief Leon had pushed you up against the wall where all the storage boxes were, otherwise the young private would have seen you not only in a very compromising position but with Leon’s blood sweetly drying on your neck and chest.

“Be there in a minute, start packing up the gear.” Leon’s voice was laced with authority but his glasses over eyes never left your own, nor did he make an effort to move you off the wall. The other man muttered something before walking out leaving you both in silence once again. But prior to you trying to graze off the slightly awkward situation, Leon's hand slid all the way down past your panties until he cupped your pussy. “The minute we’re alone. I’m gonna ruin this cunt while you take another bite from me. How’s that sound Doll?”

You felt your head spin and all you managed to get out was a lazily nod before whimpering, “Yes…”

–

Not proofread, so if you saw any errors.. no, you didn't.

[bardoftheshire]

Goddamn It, House

James Wilson x Reader (truth serum fic)

Summary; House has had a history of drugging Wilson, but what happens if he drugs both Wilson and Y/n with sodium thiopental? Seems like an amazing plan to him.

Notes; I love these things, but I would be horrified if truth serum was a real thing. (Nvm I looked it up, Sodium Thiopental is the closest thing.)

Warnings; Drugging, drugs, "prescription" drugs, foul language, sexual innuendos, mentions of vomit, House in general, and more drugs..

James Wilson Masterlist

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You did NOT want to go into work today.. you were groggy, dressed half assed, and overall looked like shit.

God, I need coffee or an energy drink..

"L/n! Hey, do you- woah. Are you okay, man?" Kutner asks with genuine concern, despite his use of words.

You look at him with your eyes half lidded, there were most definitely dark circles under your eyes.

"Yup, I'm doing fantastic," You say flatly.

"Okay, man. Do you want a hug, or something?" Kutner offers.

You dismiss him, but thank him for the kind offer, and go up to the meeting room with him alongside you, where Thirteen, Foreman, and Taub had already been in, sitting down and talking amongst eachother.

"Holy shit, L/n. You look like death.." Foreman says, definitely out of his character. You knew how bad it was when he commented like that.

"Thanks," You say sarcastically, throwing in a fake smile as you sit down, placing your head onto the table face down, your arms dangling.

You were about to fall asleep despite only had being in the hospital for at the most 10 minutes.

"Is L/n finally dead?" House says, poking your side with his cane.

You let out a groan, too tired to even react to the poke.

House hums, knocking your head with the end of his cane. "Anyways! What do we have today, Thirteen?"

"Ow! What the hell?"

"A 27 year old man began to get pains in his lower leg. He's perfectly healthy but has an unsteady heartbeat, and has had 3 strokes since he got here," Foreman explained.

"That's interesting, I thought I asked Thirteen, but I guess I must be going insane." House says sarcastically, looking at Foreman.

"It could just be atrial fibrillation. That would explain the irregular heartbeat and strokes," You say.

Thirteen shakes her head, "But what about the random pain in his leg?" she argues.

"And the fact that this man has had a healthy diet and lifestyle his entire life. He wouldn't be getting the strokes if he's had this healthy lifestyle the entire time." Kutner adds on.

You think to yourself. "Are his bones brittle? It could be atherosclerosis,"

"Are you okay, or are you just getting dumber?"

"I'm just tired, House.. And I'm being serious about the atherosclerosis."

"Whatever. Go run a bone biopsy or something," House dismisses. "but you, stay." He says, pointing at you.

You sigh, you just wanted to take a nap at the least. Maybe if you beg him, he'll let you sleep in his office on the floor or something. Or maybe Wilson would let you..

"Coffee run. Want some? It was supposed to be for Wilson but I haven't seen him yet. You can have his,"

"Wow, is this the real Gregory House?" You look at him, nearly falling asleep where you stood.

"No, I'm actually an extraterrestrial robot clone of this "House" character you are talking about."

You laugh and walk with him to his office where two to-go cups of coffee sat on his desk. "I think the one on the right is the black coffee, the other has creamer in it." House says, pointing to the cups with his cane.

You figured it would be best to check. You couldn't do dairy, coffee was already not good for you, dairy added to that would make it so much worse. You open one of the lids and see completely dark brown coffee, so you put the lid back on and take it.

"Thanks, House. I appreciate this very rare and odd gesture." You say, raising your cup.

"No probs bro. Now get out of my office and do something for once."

You roll your eyes and leave his office, spotting Wilson just walking into his own.

"Oh, morning L/n. How are you?" Wilson greeted.

He was always the one that never commented about your appearance like how Foreman and House just did moments ago. It was a kind thing to do, but it was also "dangerous" at times, especially if you had something wrong like messy hair, only half of your makeup done when you were wearing any, undone or messily knotted tie, or a wrinkled shirt.

You still appreciated it, though.

"Morning, Wilson. I'm just a bit tired is all, but other than that I think I'll be fine." You smile.

"Ditto," He laughs.

"I'll see you later though, alright?" He finishes

"See ya, Wilson." You say, with both of you parting your ways.

House walks (barges) into Wilson's office as soon as he saw that you were gone, two coffee cups in hand.

"I got you coffee, just the way you like it. Diabetes added into it and everything." House says.

Wilson sighs, already being used to his antics to the point where he isn't affected by them anymore. "Thanks,"

House hands him the one from his left hand.

Wilson remembered what happened when he took the opposite one last time, so he took the one that House presented to him and took a drink.

It wouldn't have mattered which cup he took, because House drugged both.

Manipulative bitch.

"So, you and L/n?" House asked.

Wilson choked on his coffee at House's random comment. "I'm sorry?"

"You and L/n, I see you two are still friends again, right? Cameron told me that you two got into a big argument and had a falling out,"

"That is not in the least bit true but the fact that me and L/n are friends. When did Cameron tell you this?" Wilson asks, clearly baffled that Cameron would say something like that.

"Tuesday. I asked why you two were avoiding each other the whole day, she said you two stopped being friends the day before because of an argument," House replies. Or, more so, lies.

"The both of us were busy that day? She didn't even have time to eat lunch with us, House."

"Oh, well that makes a little more sense," House acted clueless, something he tended to do often.

He knew something that Wilson didn't. He overheard you talking to Thirteen one day, asking her for advice on "how to stop loving someone," or something like that. Stupid, right?

Wilson wasn't too hard to figure out. House could practically read his mind at this point after knowing him for as long as he did.

So, House being House, he decided to come up with a solution, or more so a plan. A opioid cocktail if you will. It's surprising that this didn't kill the two..

House's pager beeps, indicating that the team had either something, or something going on.

"Gotta go! The children need tending to,"

"House-" Wilson starts, but is cut off with House walking away.

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

You enter the room where the patient and team were in. The man was laying down, his bed messy and a tired and dazed look on his face, most likely from another stroke.

"Another stroke, I assume?" You sigh, drinking more of your coffee, which was now already mostly finished.

"We came in and he was already having one, but apparently more aggressive than the last ones according to the nurse, and his leg pain is only getting worse," Thirteen responds.

Then it's atrial fibrillation. You decide before yawning.

"Do you need an energy drink or something? I've got one in my locker," Kutner offers.

"Kutner, she already has coffee. Don't you think that'll give her a heart attack or something," Taub whispers.

Kutner shrugs, "She's in a hospital if worst comes to worst at least," He whispers back.

"Oh my goodness, if you could do that, it would totally be awesome," you praise.

You knew that so much caffeine wouldn't do too well for you, but this is definitely not the most you'd have.

Kutner leaves the room, and you stand with the others.

"It has to be atrial fibrillation, no doubt about it. I mean, that would explain the strokes and off rhythmic beating of his heart," you explain.

"No, he hasn't had a heart attack and said he hasn't had a history of them, ever." Thirteen argues.

Suddenly the vital machine starts quickly beeping, indicating that something was wrong.

The patient starts groaning as he clutches the left side of his chest.

He was having a heart attack.

You were right.

"Stabalize him, he's clotting up, get me some heparin quickly!" You shout anxiously, yet full of excitement that you were right.

Holy shit you're turning into House..

"We don't have any! He didn't clot before so we only have anything to stop the clotting," Foreman says.

The nurse that was in the room with you as this happened suddenly came back with a syringe of heparin, "It's all we had," She says. The syringe wasn't ideal with patients. It's usually preferred through the IV, but it'll work nonetheless.

The patient calms down and pants, "He's stabilized,"

"And I was right." You finish.

"We don't know that yet." Foreman scoffs.

"Yes I do you fuckin' idiot," You roll your eyes.

"What?"

"I called you a fuckin' idiot. Look at the state of this sad sop, why keep him miserable and in pain? He needs the proper medication, and he would have that if you would just fucking listen to me, you idiots, *hic!*" You shout.

You now suddenly realize what you had just said, this was unlike you. "I- oh my gosh I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean that I promise. I don't know what came over me, just *hic!*, keep doing what you guys are doing right now, youre doing incredible, I'm so sorry," word vomit is what you would explain it to be.

You back out of the door, covering your mouth as to not say anything else stupid.

You bump into someone behind you and turn around to see Kutner standing in front of you with a Nos energy drink in his left hand. "L/n I had- " Kutner tries to say as he hands you the can.

"Thank you so much, I appreciate it tons, I've really got to go, thank you!" You say quickly before rushing off to an unoccupied room and close the door and curtains.

"What the fuck, what the hell just happened why did I say that? Oh my gosh I'm going insane I'm going fucking insane," You pace around the room and take fists of hair in your hands.

You crack open the energy drink and take a big gulp of it, "I'm just tired, I'm just tired is all. *hic!* How am I going to tend to my patients all day? I'm going to say something stupid again, why did I say that?"

Wilson wasn't doing any better. He was going along with his regular tasks as usual, when he realized that as the minutes, minutes, started to go by, he was starting to get more and more.. how should you say, iffy, with certain patients.

Saying things he should never say in his professional place of work, things he would only ever say to certain people, such as House with the "sassy" remarks he's been making.

"Jeez, what's up with you? Telling the patients that you-"

"Shut up, House.." Wilson grumbles before sneezing.

"Okay, whatever. Since when did you have the attitude and temper of a teenage girl?" House teases.

"House, please just- leave me alone," Wilson pauses for a brief moment. This was exactly like the last time not too long ago when he drugged him with that coffee.

"Did you drug me? Again?" Wilson scoffs.

"Probably," House shrugs, picking up a file off of Wilson's desk and examining it. "27 year old female with possible breast cancer. Wow, wonder what you said to her,"

"I- I didn't say anything I haven't gone to this one yet.." Wilson knew that if he went to certain ones, he would definitely get in trouble for them, so he put the ones he knew would cause trouble aside. Aka; the smart thing to do.

"Dr. L/n? You're asked for in Dr. House's office," One of the nurses calls, interrupting your mental breakdown.

You cover your mouth with one hand and give him a thumbs up before he leaves.

You could close the curtains for the main glass window, but you couldn't with the glass door, unfortunately.

The nurse nods and leaves, closing the door on his way out.

You sigh and grab the can Kutner gave you, well, more so that you took from him.

You bit your tounge on the way there and responded only when needed to in nods and shakes of the head. There were some doctors and nurses you pretended to like, just to avoid any conflict and drama, that's what horrified you the most. If you said anything to them, it was over. You're not even sure if Foreman was going to talk to you again.

"What the hell do you want," You sigh, placing the energy drink down on a desk as you enter House's office to see him shaking his magic 8 ball before looking up at you.

"What's got you so snappy today? You're starting to act like Wilson right now,"

"*hic!* What?" You question, your brows furrowed.

"I mean, have you talked to Wilson yet? Because man is he hor-" House begins before being immediately cut off.

"House!"

House looks up and you turn around to see Wilson standing at the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry did you finish verbally harassing those other patients?"

You look back at House with a questioning look, "He's finally the one harassing them now and not you?"

"Did he- did he drug you too?"

"Did he WHAT?" You snap your head back to Wilson.

This back and forth was going to give you whiplash.

"He drugged me with sodium thiopental this morning in my coffee. Along with other opioids I don't even want to know,"

"Goddamn it House! Are you kidding me? Do you know what I just said to Foreman's dumbass?? I can't fucking believe you, how old are you?!" You yell.

That explained it.

"I don't care. Hey, how about we spice this up a little, get some drama?" House says, placing his 8 ball down and getting up from his chair.

You sigh and laugh, "I can't believe you right now! You did this just to stir some drama?"

"Yes and no. Hey, L/n, who were you talking about when you were talking to Thirteen asking about 'how to stop loving someone'? I'm just curious, love the workplace drama if you didn't know," House asks you, getting in your face.

What.

"I-" You quickly place your hand over your mouth.

Wilson.

How did House know? Did Thirteen tell him?

"Who told you that? Was it Thirteen? You *hic!* shouldn't know about that," You blurt.

"Oh just happened to be passing by, but not in time to know who you were talking about. I just want to know, you know?" House shrugged.

"It was-" You slap your hand over your mouth again, this time biting your tounge as well.

"Come on, spit it out already,"

"Wait, what's going on?" Wilson asks.

You shake your head and leave his office with your hand still over your mouth, rushing to another empty room.

"What the hell!" You scream, getting the attention from other doctors on the other side of the glass. Totally not soundproof.

You grab your pager and click on Thirteen's contact, putting a message to quickly come to the room you're in.

"*hic!* This can not be happening right now," You muttered to yourself.

You told Thirteen everything. You knew or at least felt that if you told anyone else what you tell her, they'd blabber it to someone else right away. Just like you were doing against your own will.

The urgency wasn't incredibly needed, but that didn't mean that you weren't anxiously waiting, as each second felt like 5 minutes and your nails were now dug into the skin of your arm.

You paced around before finally settling on just sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"L/n? Are you doing okay? You went a little crazy earlier. I think you hurt Foreman's feelings," Thirteen says with a smile.

You look up and quickly walk up to her, "Oh my gosh, Thirteen, thank god you're here,"

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, well, House is kind of a jackass and laced my coffee with sodium thiopental and god knows what else this morning so now I've just been telling everyone I come across what I think without thinking, so I've just been without a filter since I drank that coffee. I've spent most of my time hiding in rooms until it maybe wears off," You rambled, unable to stop everything that was coming out of your mouth all at once. "He also drugged Wilson." You added

"Wait what?"

"House drugged me and now I won't shut up!" You shout.

Thirteen furrows her eyebrows and crosses her arms, "So he basically gave you a 'truth serum'."

"Yes? Is that what you'd call that? *hic!*"

"And House did this just to be a jackass?" Thirteen questioned. She knew that was most likely the answer.

"*hic!* Probably! I mean, the guy is miserable so he makes others even more miserable for his own entertainment so, *hic!* yeah!" You raised your hands up in the air and shrugged.

The thing about House, was that he never did something for no reason. Everything was always for a reason, like the last time he drugged Wilson...

Wilson.

"You said he drugged Wilson too, right?" Thirteen questioned, knowing exactly where this was going.

You nodded quickly.

Thirteen smiles and walks out of the room.

'What the fuck was that?'

You were going to to crazy! Why did she just leave? Is she coming back?

Then you suddenly realized just what House was planning, and what Thirteen knew would happen.

"*hic!* Oh my god.."

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

Your pager beeps coming from Kutner, if you could guess, it was most likely due to the patient, something that should've been much more important.

"Shit.." You look at it and bite your tounge as to not say what you were thinking out loud about patient's, nurses, doctors, etc. on your way to where the patient's room was.

Only to find that he wasn't there with the rest of the team.

"Where the hell is Kutner? He paged me for no goddamn reason or what?" You shout, clearly frustrated.

"He went to the break room," Cameron responds, focused on putting a new bag of saline.

"*hic!*"

"Goddamn it. I hate this fucking job sometimes," You groan and leave the room without saying anything else, not even bothering to bite your tounge around them as you've already said your worst.

You mumble all sorts of profanities and insults to the people you saw around you as you made your way down into the break room where stood House, and Wilson.

"What is this, some interrogation? Haven't you already had your daily dose of your dumb shit for the day or *hic!* are you going to overdose on that shit, too?"

"Oh, no I'm addicted to it. Maybe more than the Vicodin, though it might come close," House says carelessly.

You ball your fists up, nails digging into your skin.

"I'm going to kill your crippled ass," You say, gritting your teeth.

"That's cool, but first, tell me how you feel about good ol' Wilson here," House says with a coy smile on his face.

"Wait what do you mean?" Wilson asked cluelessly.

"Shut the hell up, what the hell did you give us House!"

"Hard question, next one please,"

You groan and go to the nearest wall to lean against it. Whatever he gave you was DEFINITELY not helping you.

You actually felt sick. You were so tired too, because the coffee that was supposed to be helping you, did the opposite.

"*hic!* god fucking damn it why can't this shit stop!?" You were getting sick and tired of the hiccups, it's all that's been happening to you the whole time you've been here.

"Achoo!"

And apparently Wilson's had been sneezing. Gross..

You slide down the wall and curl up once you meet the carpeted floor.

"House, I need to know, was this really nessasary for you to do.. both me *hic!* and Wilson have jobs here and I can't hide in a room all day.." You ask, rubbing your temples.

"Yes. Yes it was." House gets up and towers over you, "Have fun!"

Unfortunately, the door locked from the outside. The one House now just locked judging by the click you heard after he left.

You run to the door and attempt to turn the door handle, but to no avail, it didn't open. Meaning, you were now stuck in a room with Wilson, and only Wilson.

You take a deep breath in and out, "I'm keeping my mouth shut, don't take it personally.." backing away from the door, you take a seat on the floor next to the foosball table.

Wilson shoots you a thumbs up.

Minutes pass, then an hour, and more minutes. You hadn't even tried to busy yourself, you just sat in the same spot the whole time.

The lock clicks open and your head shoots up along with Wilson. The both of you rush to the door in hopes someone would let you out.

Only for it to be House.

"Have either of you still not said anything?" House scoffs.

You make a zip movement over your mouth, indicating you hadn't, and wouldn't say anything.

He turns to Wilson, giving him the same look and getting a shake of the head from him.

"Fine then. If you won't say it, I will. Alright, how should I go on about this? Wilson?" House hobbles over and taps Wilson with his cane.

Wilson shakes his head once more, though quicker.

"What about you, Dr. L/n? What do you have to say?" House whips his head around.

You slap your hand over your mouth and pinch yourself to stop from saying a single word.

"Okay, if you want it that way. Wilson, L/n, or should I say Y/n, has a total-"

You quickly cut off House, tackling him to the floor with your hand over his mouth. "Shut the hell up, House! I'll murder you I swear!"

"Do it then, coward." House challenged you.

You pause, suddenly unable to form a coherent sentence, let alone a single word.

"L/n totally has the hots for you, Wilson." House says, pushing you off of him with a big grin on his face.

Your jaw practically fell directly onto the floor, a million thoughts going through your mind yet despite the drug cocktail, you still stayed quiet.

The three of you stayed silent. Not one of you making a peep for what felt like hours. You felt like crying, throwing up maybe?

"Well! Have fun with this. I'm going to go bother Foreman." House dismisses himself and leaves, locking the door as you could hear from the other side.

"I- I'm so sorry, Wilson." You apologize, shutting your eyes tightly closed.

"Do you..?" Wilson asks after a couple seconds.

You open your eyes and look up to see Wilson giving you a look of sympathy and confusion.

Giving him a look of confusion yourself, you question, "what?"

"God, this feels like middle school," Wilson lets out a chuckle before continuing, "do you like like me?" He raises an eyebrow.

Furrowing your brows, you respond, "What do you think, James?"

He smiles sheepishly, now suddenly shy. "I wish I would've known sooner."

Wilson was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and usually stuck with House, so seeing him like this wasn't surprising, though that didn't mean you didn't find it a little silly.

A guy with a title such as his? Shy? No way.

"Do you?" You asked the same question, causing him to rub the back of his neck and mumble with a nod.

You smile. Maybe House being a dickhead wasn't too bad of a thing sometimes. Sometimes..

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

Has no clue how to end this. *But* finished it nonetheless!

[hgfictionwriter]

Changes

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie’s used to change, but lately life has hit her with one thing after the next. When her best friend announces she’s leaving, she’s left wondering where it leaves her.

Warnings: none

A/N: Short little comfort piece based on this request.

“You haven’t had any of your tea,” you noted as you watched Jessie out of the corner of your eye.

She reacted slowly. After a few moments giving you a small noise of acknowledgment before she sat up on the couch and took a brief sip of her drink. She set it back down without a word or look.

Janine delivered her news today and Jessie had been very quiet and subdued all evening. She relayed the update to you over text earlier like it was something so trivial and commonplace. You’d asked questions, but even now as the day drew to a close, she very purposefully didn’t elaborate further.

You and Jessie hadn’t been together all that long, just a few months, but you knew her well enough to know that you shouldn’t push. She’d reveal more when she was ready.

So here you were, both quietly sitting on the couch, each immersed in a book. You read the same few paragraphs over and over, thoughts going astray and losing focus, made worse by how you noticed Jessie hadn’t flipped a page in several minutes.

Eventually, Jessie shifted, restless almost. You kept your eyes fixed on your book knowing it was best to let her come to you. In time she cleared her throat and spoke into her book.

“Janine’s leaving - moving away, getting married. Heck, who knows, maybe she’ll have kids soon. Sinc’s retiring. Maybe leaving, too, to be closer to her family.” She sighed quietly, opening her mouth to speak and stalling. She sighed once more. “I don’t know.”

Jessie set down her book and sunk further into the couch. She picked at her fingers absently and was quiet for a moment before giving you a fleeting glance.

“I guess part of me feels like maybe I’m falling behind in some way.” She stared vacantly at the floor before shifting again with another small sigh. “Or being left behind. I don’t know.”

“Hey,” you interjected gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react. “Even if it feels that way, no one’s intentionally leaving you behind. They both love you a lot and you’re important to them.” You struggled to find the right words. “I can’t say for sure, but it seems to be the nature of your work. It’s not easy to put down roots or stay in one place for long. That must be really hard though.”

Jessie exhaled, letting her head fall back against the back of the couch to stare up at the ceiling.

“It is,” she said simply.

“And you’re not falling behind. National team captaincy. You’re a consistent starter for a Shield winning team. The list goes on.”

“The National team is great, but there’s so much bullshit too. I’m doing what I can, but I can’t help but feel like I’m not doing enough,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “And I don’t always feel like I’m gelling with the team here. I may start, but I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I haven’t necessarily made the impact I’ve wanted to.”

“There’s absolutely no road map for what the national team is going through. You led them out of a near impossible situation. I’d say you did exceptionally. And as for the Thorns, even if you feel that way, your stats say otherwise. It’s still a new team for you, it’s okay to feel like you’re still finding your place.” You sought eye contact with her, which she offered briefly. “And I think we both know you’re your worst critic.”

“Well. Considering my best friend is leaving to be closer to her fiancé and to, you know, build her life and career and I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself instead, I’d say I deserve some of that criticism,” Jessie said with a slight edge in her tone.

“Jess,” you said softly. “You need to be kind to yourself right now. It’s okay to feel bad or upset. I’m sure you were supportive when she told you and we both know you will be in all of your actions. You can still feel what you feel and be a good friend - all things can be true.”

She was quiet a moment longer before chancing a brief look at you before shifting and rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“I don’t know. It just feels like a mess,” she said with a huff. “I guess I’m questioning some things now too. A big part of why I came here was to play alongside her and Sinc and in a few short months every aspect of that will no longer exist,” she relayed. “And I left Chelsea with so much confidence that this was the right move, that I’d never grow or get more of a chance there, but things have changed so much over there now I’m wondering what would’ve happened if I’d stayed.”

You cast your gaze downward for a moment, a pang going through you at her words. You hushed it immediately and refocused on her. This wasn’t about you.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “A lot of variables have changed. You couldn’t have known that would be the case though. You made the right decision for you in the moment and that’s really all you - or anyone - can be expected to do.”

She nodded quietly, eyes still trained on the ceiling. You tried to not let your emotions get the best of you. As apprehensive as you felt by this shift, Jessie was not yours to keep. You couldn’t and wouldn’t ever want her to stay unless of her own accord.

“Is that something you want to explore?” You asked, keeping all implications and judgement out of your voice. “Talk with your agent? See what options you might have?”

She shook her head right away. “No. I’m just - just talking. You’re right, I need to give myself time here. I’m just in my head. And being hard on myself.”

She offered you a small smile.

“And in some ways Portland feels more like home to me than London did even after three or four years,” she said. “Not only just lifestyle-wise, but I wouldn’t have met you if I didn’t come here.”

Despite her words, all you could muster was a half-smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“You do seem at home here,” you chuckled, but soon grew earnest. “But, if you wanted to explore other options, I hope you know I wouldn’t hold you back. That’s the last thing I would want to do. I love you and want to support you in wherever your life takes you.”

You did your best to seem nonchalant. “We’re still new, I’m aware of that. So I hope whatever you choose to do, that it’s with solely you in mind. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Jessie turned to you now, her body language opening up as she looked at you. She took your hand.

“Hey, I know we’re new, but I love you, too. Even if everything was falling apart here - which, it isn’t, even if I’m talking like it is - it would all be worth it because I got to meet and fall in love with you.”

You held her gaze, digesting her words before smiling and nodding your acceptance.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you. I really hope you feel like there’s still a lot of good for you here - outside of me,” you said.

“I do,” she said with a soft smile. She released a quick breath, looking away before meeting your gaze again. “I just need to remind myself that everyone’s on their own path. Janine has hers. Same as Sinc. And I have mine too. They don’t need to always be parallel or intertwine. I just need to adjust.”

“That makes a lot of sense. You came here with a particular expectation and vision and it’s turning out differently than you pictured. It’s normal that you need some time to adjust.”

Jessie sighed, more contentedly this time and leaned her head on your shoulder. A rush of warmth and affection went through you and you kissed the top of her head. She wrapped her arm around your middle and cuddled in.

“Thank you for being so sweet,” she said. “And patient.”

“Of course,” you told her as you kissed her head once more.

“No. Some people don’t get it. They have a hard time giving me space when I need it. Like Janine,” she joked before humming softly. You gave her a squeeze.

“She’ll still be your best friend,” you reminded her. “You’ve spent more time apart than together and you’re solid - it’s never stopped you before.” You gave her a light nudge. “You may just have to take on more media now that Janine won’t be jumping to step in front of the mic.”

Jessie groaned with a laugh. “Don’t even put that out there.”

She exhaled, resting against you more fully.

“Truthfully, I’m feeling a bit lost or uncertain in some ways, but I have trust in myself and in the process. I know even if I’m feeling apprehensive about all of the change and upheaval around me, I know this is where I need to be. And to be here with you feels absolutely right.”

[dragon-ascent]

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

[scary-grace]

¹¹⁵⁾ “you’re drunk, honey.” for the three word prompts!

Thank you for the prompt! I originally wasn't sure which direction to go with it, but then I had an idea for a follow-up on one of the Valentine's Day prompts, and I kind of ran with it. As usual, if it's not your speed, let me know and I'll come up with a different one! Post-canon, 3k, angst trending fluff. A follow-up to memory garden.

begin again

You never met Shigaraki Tomura, but you bring flowers to his death site every Valentine's Day. This year you bring them on his birthday, too.

“You’re drunk, honey.” The bartender slides your card back across the counter to you, and you look down at it like you’ve never seen it before. Sure, it belongs to you. You remember handing it over and opening a tab – and ordering way too many drinks for your public-servant salary – but it feels like you were watching from the backseat while it happens. A lot of things feel like that lately. “It’s time to head home.”

Your heart sinks. “It’s only nine,” you protest. “I can’t go home.”

“Yes, you can.” The bartender sets down a receipt for you to sign. Her eyes look kind, you think, but she’s not budging. “It’s time for you to go home, because it’s time for me to go home, and the kid who’s coming up next shift isn’t going to cut you off like he’s supposed to.”

“Why not?”

“You’ll tip him and bat your eyes and he’ll do whatever you want,” the bartender says, and sighs. “He’s a real bleeding heart. Can’t resist a pretty girl having a bad night.”

You’re not pretty, and it’s not a bad night. It’s the latest in a month and a half of them, nights where you can’t sleep unless you take sleeping pills and you have nightmares unless you drink. If you’re being rational about it, you can admit that it’s been coming on for a while. But if you’re being honest, you know for a fact that it started on Valentine’s Day this year, when you brought flowers to Shigaraki Tomura’s death site and imagined that you heard his voice.

You don’t know what went wrong with your quirk, but ever since Valentine’s Day and your visit to Japan’s loneliest death site, your ability to cope with the things you see through your quirk has collapsed. Every new death site you walk over triggers more than just a flashback – it cues up every similar vision, a whole flood of last moments that no one was ever meant to see. It’s not just what you see at work. There are death sites all across Japan, and you could wander into one at any moment. Once you do, you can’t avoid seeing it, and once it’s inside your head, it never leaves.

And it all starts and ends with the last few seconds of Shigaraki’s life, something you can never unsee, something you can barely live with when you remember it. Maybe that’s why you’re so fixated on the fool’s hope your mind cooked up the last time you were at the death site. Your wish that it wasn’t too late, your hallucination’s response that it might not be. You’re only so fixated because you’ve convinced yourself that there’s something you can do.

You let the bartender usher you out onto the street, into a cold spring night. “You’ll go home, right?” she says to you. “All the other bartenders on this street are my friends. They’ll tell me if you show up.”

“I’ll go home.” You can’t face dragging yourself into another bar, dealing with another question about why the long face, seeing the wide eyes when you flash your ID and your forensics badge falls out of your wallet, hearing the questions about your job. “You’re right. I’m drunk.”

“That’s the spirit.” The bartender pats you on the shoulder, then flinches. “Honey –”

“What?”

“My quirk –” she starts, but you can stop listening after that. This happens every so often, when you run across somebody with a sensing quirk, and they react to you the way you must react when you step into a death site by accident. “Do you need help?”

“No,” you say. The only thing you can think of that would help is if you didn’t have your quirk anymore, and even though there are legal ways to do it, the government will never sign off. Your quirk makes things easier for them, and that’s what matters. “I just need some sleep.”

Sleep. Right. You’ll go home and try to sleep, and the sleeping pills will kick in just strongly enough to keep you from waking up out of whatever nightmare you have, and then you’ll wake up in the morning and go to work and do it all over again. Why not? You’ve got nothing better to do.

You mess with your phone while you wait for the train, flicking through your messages and apps, looking for something to distract yourself. Something catches in your head every time you swipe through, but it takes you a while to figure out what it is. Today’s date, April 4th. There’s something important about April 4th, isn’t there? It’s an unlucky day for anything, really. An unlucky day for everybody in Japan, you remember everyone saying in the early years, because it’s the day Shigaraki Tomura was born.

It’s his birthday. He was born the same year as you were, so it would be his twenty-ninth. You wonder how many times he ever got a birthday party, or a present, or even somebody to sing him the stupid birthday song. You used to hate people singing the birthday song to you. You’d get all warm and your face would turn red and you’d usually cry. You can’t go to Shigaraki’s death site and sing him the birthday song. But maybe you can do what you did on Valentine’s Day. A few flowers won’t hurt anything.

Finding flowers at 10pm is harder than you thought it would be. Most convenience stores are sold out of what they had, and you’re not bringing him fake flowers. By the time you actually find a bucket of flowers, old and starting to wilt, you’re this close to missing the last train out. You hadn’t thought you were all that drunk, but the more time you spend stumbling around, the more you start feeling the alcohol. It’s a good thing you took the bucket the flowers came in, too. After you’ve dropped them on Shigaraki’s death site, you can use it to throw up in.

You know this won’t fix anything. Shigaraki wouldn’t have wanted flowers to begin with, not on Valentine’s Day or on his birthday, and he’s been dead for eight years. This is for you more than it is for him, just something to do so you don’t feel useless, helpless. But you always feel like that. Red Cap isn’t a heroic quirk, in spite of what the police tell you about how much it helps them. It’ll never save anyone. It only activates in the first place when it’s already too late.

You’re used to the battlefield being empty when you visit, but you’re not used to making your way across it in the dark, and you stumble into death site after death site, reeling from flashback after flashback. Just because Shigaraki’s death was the worst one you’ve ever felt, anywhere, doesn’t mean that the other deaths that happened here weren’t terrible all on their own. By the time you reach Shigaraki’s death site, you’re close to tears, frustrated and embarrassed and shivering in the windy spring night. The sooner you drop the flowers, the sooner you can go home.

But once you’re poised at the edge of Shigaraki’s death site, you find yourself in the same spot as last time – sure you should say something, totally lost for words. For lack of anything better to do, you start dropping flowers, hoping you’ll come up with something. “Happy birthday,” you start, as you scatter anemones, hyacinths, daffodils. “I didn’t remember until late and I had to get flowers at the convenience store. That’s why they’re, uh – like that.”

Wilted. Dying. You glance down at the death site, but the flowers have vanished completely. Have they always done that? You scatter more, watching closely this time as they melt away into the earth. “I haven’t been able to sleep since the last time I came here,” you say. You hear the same thing you always hear in your head: So what? He sounds different in your head than he did out loud. “And maybe I only wish I could save you so I could save myself. But saving you wouldn’t take away what I saw. All the things I’ve seen. So maybe it’s too late for both of us.”

You’re down to the last few flowers. You drop them one at a time. Rain lily, lilac, crocus, all of them vanishing the moment they touch the earth. You wonder what will happen if you touch it, if you’ll vanish, too. Right now, when you’re drunk and exhausted and teetering on the edge of tears, it doesn’t feel like it would be the worst thing in the world.

You set the last flower, a white rose, down on the spot where Shigaraki Tomura died, and it vanishes beneath your fingers – and in the same moment, a hand erupts from beneath the ground and seizes your wrist in an iron grip.

You recoil on instinct, and the hand tightens its hold enough to make your bones creak. Its palm is rough, its fingernails ragged, its index and middle fingers completely gone. You know whose hand this is. Anyone who watched the news or opened a newspaper knows whose hand it is. It’s impossible. You came here and lost your mind completely. You must have, because a man who’s been dead for eight years is holding onto your wrist.

You aren’t vanishing the way the flowers did. He’s not trying to pull you under. His hand is shaking from the force of his grip, but he’s holding on, nothing more. That doesn’t mean you can’t feel it – the strain of another adult’s bodyweight against your arm and wrist, thrashing and straining, twitching in spasms that threaten to dislocate your shoulder. You look at Shigaraki’s fingers, locked around your wrist hard enough to bruise, and see that his fingernails are going blue.

He’s suffocating. He’s alive down there – somehow – and he’s suffocating. Hundreds of questions flood through your mind, questions about how this happened, about why this happened, about whether it’s your fault that the Symbol of Fear has returned. Hundreds of questions, and none of them matter. Drunk and worn through as you are, you know what this comes down to. No one saved Shigaraki Tomura when it mattered. It’s not some lost child down there; it’s a villain, someone who did terrible things, someone who almost broke the country in two. When you said you wished you could save him, you didn’t mean that lost child – you meant the adult, the one who died in hopelessness and loneliness and fury and pain. You said you’d save him. Are you going to?

It’s not a question. You twist your hand in Shigaraki’s grip, wrap your fingers around his wrist in return, and pull with all your strength.

He comes up choking on dirt, struggling to cough around the earth that still encases his chest, and you yank harder, pulling his shoulders free. Shigaraki’s other hand breaks the surface, scrabbling at the dirt – why isn’t he using his quirk? – before pressing flat and pushing downwards. With that, you’re able to free him to his ribcage, to his waist, and Shigaraki coughs, clods of dirt spilling from his dry lips. He’s still coughing as you pull him free the rest of the way. One final heave that almost topples you backwards into another death site, and Shigaraki Tomura is doubled over on his knees in the dirt, taking deep, ragged breaths of air.

He’s shaking. He’s still holding your wrist. His other arm wraps tightly around himself, as if that will help, and when he speaks, his voice rattles. “Cold –”

No kidding. It’s April, the temperatures still drop to freezing overnight, and he’s naked. You pull your hand free of his and start unbuttoning your coat. Some part of you that’s still sane in the face of all of this points out that you’re drunk enough to struggle with regulating your body temperature, that you could freeze yourself, and you ignore it. Shigaraki Tomura startles when you drape your coat around his shoulders. His head snaps up, and his crimson gaze locks onto yours.

You remember the light of madness in his eyes, as visible in a still photo as it was on a live feed. It’s gone. You knew it would be, because it was missing when he died, and if a person’s conscious in their last moments, they’re exposed, missing every mask they’ve worn and every truth they’ve hidden from. You’ve thought, more than once, that you’ve known the dead whose death sites you walked over better than anybody else. You’ve thought about how sick that was. You felt it when you were talking to Spinner, and it made you want to scream.

Shigaraki tries to speak, coughs into his fist and tries again. “You meant it.”

“I – yeah.” You don’t like that you had to think about it. You don’t like what it says about you that you hesitated for even a second. “I don’t understand. How are you – here?”

“I never left,” Shigaraki says, and your stomach lurches. “I don’t know how I’m – back.”

You don’t either. You don’t have a clue. Even the most overpowered awakening of your quirk wouldn’t give you the ability to raise the dead. And it’s not hard to imagine that someone who spent their life in as much misery as Shigaraki did might have mixed feelings about coming back. “Are you mad about it?”

Shigaraki thinks it over. His face is more expressive than you thought it would be, and you see the answer settle into him before he speaks. “No.”

He’s alive, and he’s not mad at you for being somehow involved in bringing him back. Now that you’ve settled that, you have a problem. Or ten problems. Or five million problems, because you didn’t just help resurrect somebody who’s been dead for eight years – you brought back the Symbol of Fear, someone instantly recognizable, somebody whose mere appearance struck terror into people’s hearts. What are you going to do?

A moment later, Shigaraki asks the question himself. “What happens next?”

“Um –” If you’d thought there was any chance you weren’t hallucinating, you’d probably have come up with a plan for what to do next. “How do you feel?”

“Cold,” Shigaraki says. You nod. “Hungry. Thirsty.”

Clothes, then food, then water. Or water, then food. That feels doable, as long as you start with clothes. Where are you going to get clothes for him? It’s not like there’s a convenience store around. For that, you’ll have to get him back to the city, which means you have to get him on the train – how did this even happen? How did you go from leaving flowers for Shigaraki Tomura once a year to literally pulling him out of the ground? This can’t be happening. This is insane.

“Hey,” Shigaraki says, and you snap out of it. “You can go.”

“What?”

“This isn’t what you signed up for. And I can make it on my own.” Shigaraki draws your coat tighter still around his shoulders. “I’ll keep this, though. It’s still warm.”

It’s warm because you were wearing it. Shigaraki’s here because you took his hand. You saved him, sure – for what? It wasn’t just anger and pain you felt when you first crossed Shigaraki’s death site, it was loneliness. Loneliness like you’ve never felt anywhere, from any other flashback, a kind of loneliness that can’t be fixed by giving someone a hand up. Saving someone means more than just helping them up when they fall. It’s about figuring out why they fell down. It’s making sure it doesn’t happen again.

Besides, you can’t just turn a supervillain loose to wander the countryside. You have a responsibility here – to him, to everybody, and to yourself, because for once, it’s not too late. Just this once, you can use the awful things your quirk shows you to do something good. “You can keep the coat,” you say to Shigaraki. “But you’re coming with me.”

You’re unsteady as you get to your feet, but Shigaraki’s worse. You have to catch him to stop him from falling face-first into the dirt, and even once he has his feet under him, he can barely stand. You duck under his arm to support him and he stiffens. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” you say. You sounded way too sincere about it. He’s going to laugh. “If you fall you’ll get mud all over my coat.”

Shigaraki scoffs quietly, his voice still roughened from the dirt. The sooner you find some water for him, the better. He doesn’t try to pull away from you, so you start the long, slow shuffle back across the battlefield. You remember to grab the bucket just in time. It could be evidence, although what it would be evidence of, you have absolutely no idea. No one is going to believe this. You barely believe it, and you watched it happen.

Crossing the field is its usual nightmare, made worse by the fact that Shigaraki’s slowing you down, but unlike when you crossed before, you’re not holding back tears. You’re still drunk. Your head is still full of things you’ll never be able to unsee, and you’ll still have nightmares tonight. The only thing that’s changed is having something you can do. You never realized how much that could matter until now.

“You only come back once a year,” Shigaraki says as the two of you near the edge of the field. “It hasn’t been a year yet.”

“I had to,” you say. “It’s your birthday.”

That doesn’t explain anything. You know what the Shigaraki you always imagined would say to that: So what? The real Shigaraki, the one that’s naked except for your coat and stumbling along at your side, is quiet until you’re at the road, the lights of the train station visible in the distance. “I’ve had worse ones.”

<- memory garden aftermath ->

tag list: @f3r4lfr0gg3r @cryptidfuckerofficial @lvtuss @issaortiz @evilcookie5 @deadhands69 @shigarakislaughter @minniessskii

[belit0]

So im not the person who requested the madara first born gets kidnapped by an enemy (sorry anon) but i was wondering if you could a part two of that story where after madara left(after making sure the y/n could be alright and have guards protect her before he left). After some time, madara had managed to locate the enemy in an abandoned village and they weren’t alone. Madara managed to sneak in the place they were but didn’t attack yet as he wanted to hear of why these fools decided to kidnapped his son, his first born.(and also planning on who to torture the most). Apparently, this wasn’t just a kidnapping, it was also a trafficking as the enemies was going to sell Madara first born to the “black market” to make some money due to the boy not only being a uchiha but also madara son. They also started to “play” with Madara son but not in a nice way and start talking bad about Madara and y/n saying how they probably freaking out right now and how scared they must be. Apparently this was enough for Madara to surprise attack them

DAD IS COMING!

(and don't worry, the baby doesn't suffer at all, Madara doesn't allow it, no TW, be at peace)

The abandoned village was silent—too silent. The kind of silence that felt wrong, thick with something rotten beneath the surface. Moonlight pooled in broken windows, casting fractured shadows over decayed wood and dirt-covered tatami mats. The air smelled of damp, dust, and the unmistakable stench of them.

Madara had found them.

He had moved with the precision of a phantom, weaving through the ruined structures without a single footstep betraying his presence. He had no intention of striking yet—no, not yet. He wanted to listen. He wanted to understand what kind of fools had thought they could take his son and still wake up the next day breathing.

From the shadows, his Sharingan glowed, drinking in every movement, every expression.

The men sat in a loose circle around a dim fire, their voices low but smug, the sound of clinking metal and shifting fabric accompanying their conversation. In the center of the room, on a rough-hewn table, a small bundle lay still—too still. Too quiet.

His son.

Madara’s fingers twitched, nails biting into his palms. He forced himself to stay put. Not yet.

-Never thought we'd get our hands on a kid like this,- one of them snorted.

-Uchiha brat. Think of the price he’ll fetch—an infant with that kind of bloodline? Some collectors pay a fortune just for a single eye.-

Madara’s jaw locked.

The man laughed, ignorant of the storm curling around them. "Bet his parents are losing their minds right now."

-Think they'll come looking?- Another sneered. -I mean, sure, it's Madara Uchiha’s kid, but even he can’t track us this far. We'll have to keep moving tho.-

Madara’s lips curled.

-But his mother,- one of them mused, shaking his head. -I heard she's beautiful. Maybe we should’ve taken her too—

The next moment, the man's head twisted at an unnatural angle with a sickening crack.

There was no time to react.

Madara was already moving, already cutting through them like a force of nature, like something unstoppable. The fire cast jagged light over the room, illuminating the sheer terror that overtook their faces as his crimson gaze landed on each of them, marking them for death.

The first man didn’t even have time to scream before Madara's blade tore through his chest, splattering the walls with warm blood.

Another tried to run—Madara let him get exactly three steps before yanking him back with an invisible force, crushing his throat with a single squeeze.

The others fumbled for weapons, for escape—there was no escape. There never had been.

A violent snap, a gurgled choke, the sickening squelch of steel meeting flesh.

One by one, they fell.

And when it was over—when the last body hit the ground in a twitching heap—Madara stood amidst the carnage, breath heavy, eyes wild with something still unquenched. Blood dripped from his fingertips, a slow, deliberate pattern pooling beneath his feet.

Then, silence.

Madara turned, his gaze falling on the small, trembling bundle on the table.

Carefully—more carefully than he had ever handled anything—he lifted his son into his arms, pressing him against his armor, feeling the frantic heartbeat beneath fragile ribs.

He was still alive. He was safe.

Madara exhaled, slow and unsteady, forehead pressing against the boy’s as he whispered, -I’m here.-

No one would ever take him again.

No one would dare.

The night stretched endless before him, the weight of death lingering in the air, thick and metallic. Madara paid it no mind. His steps were steady, unwavering, his arms cradling the fragile bundle close. His son had not made a sound since he had lifted him, his tiny body pressed against the armor on Madara’s chest, too cold, too still. But he was alive. That was all that mattered.

Madara exhaled, his breath a slow tremor against the night air. He tilted his head down, his voice low, tender—something no one but his son would ever hear.

-I’ve got you now. You’re safe. No one will take you from me again.-

His son remained quiet, only the faintest rise and fall of his tiny frame against Madara’s hold reassuring him. But the night was too cold, a bitter wind slicing through the abandoned village, through his armor, creeping into the delicate warmth of the newborn’s skin. Madara frowned, adjusting his grip.

That wouldn’t do.

With careful precision, he shifted his son closer, one hand undoing the ties of his armor, the other steadying the small body against him. The metal plating loosened, followed by the layers of thick fabric beneath. And then, with a gentleness that contradicted every ounce of destruction he had left behind, he tucked his son against the bare heat of his chest.

Skin to skin. Heart to heart.

The baby stirred at the sudden warmth, his tiny fingers twitching, curling slightly against Madara’s skin. A soft sound, barely more than a whimper, escaped his lips. Madara hushed him quietly, his palm covering the infant’s back, fingers spreading across impossibly delicate bones.

-That’s right,- he murmured, beginning the long trek home. -You’re warm now, aren’t you? You feel me, hm? Your father is here.-

The wind howled around them, but Madara’s cloak shielded them both, wrapping his son in the security of his body heat. He walked with purpose, his pace quick but steady, mindful of every movement. His heartbeat was slow, strong—his son’s tiny ear pressed directly over it.

-Listen,- he whispered, eyes softening as he felt the baby shift, nuzzling instinctively against his skin. -That sound… that is your father’s heart. It beats for you. No one will ever take you from it again.-

For the first time, his son made a noise—a quiet, breathy little sigh. A sound of comfort. Of trust.

Madara tightened his arms around him, his eyes lifting toward the distant glow of the Uchiha compound. He could already sense the frantic energy from there—(Y/N)’s presence, her chakra a raw thread of panic in the air, the clan in turmoil. They had feared the worst.

But he was bringing their son home.

-Almost there, little one,- he promised, his lips brushing against the infant’s soft hair. -Your mother is waiting.-

[bitterbutblue]

Your Ruan Mei angst broke me I need fluff to restore my soul please 🥺🥺🥺

Also it was really good I was thinking about it for the rest of the day

ruan mei time~

you make me feel alright ☆ ruan mei x reader

~ I GOT U ANON SORRY RUAN MEI LOVERS FOR THE PAIN I HAVE CAUSED U here is one where she [REDACTED SPOILERS][REDACTED SPOILERS][REDACTED SPOILERS]

studying a stem degree and going through it unwillingly

SOTD: just fine - spookyghostboy ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

As a scientist, everything must be objective and everything is always going to be black and white. She has discerned herself from anything that held her back from her true potential- anything that had to do with her past. Or just who she was.

You were everything she hated, everything she despised about who she once was and she wanted to hate you so bad. Yet something about the way you smiled at her for the first time was so infuriating that she decided she never wanted to see you again, but also wanted to spend eternity with you.

"Darling, what do you want for dinner?"

Ruan Mei looks up at the sound of your voice, her heart clenching in a way she really hated feeling but also simultaneously wanted to feel that way forever. She doesn't smile, she doesn't react and she barely flinches but she feels her finger twitch slightly as your eyes meet hers from where you were sat on the couch- sprawled out like a mess and she had to fight the urge to want to walk over and just lay down in your arms. She hates the way her heart jumps a bit, as if giddy like a child.

"I don't mind."

"I'll get us noodles. I'll order you a sesame cake on the side?"

The fact that you remembered her love for sweets had her swallowing, her throat going slightly dry.

"That would be wonderful."

"Great, it'll be here in twenty."

When you pressed a soft but quick kiss on her cheek, she feels her heart speed up even more as she looks down to bury herself in her work. She would honestly rather die than have you realise how red her face was getting in that moment.

(You knew though, smiling to yourself because how can someone be so adorable?)

You move to sit next to her, scrolling through your phone as you hummed whatever song was on your mind, taking a drink from your mug between intervals. Her eyes drift over back to you against her own will, gaze softening as she watches you break into a smile as you giggle at whatever stupid reel you were watching on your phone. She hated how carefree you were, how happy you were. She hated how you were everything she wasn't but she still can't help but love you more than she loves the world itself.

"I love you."

The sound of sputtering fills the silent room as you cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath from choking on your drink. You feel your face heat up as you look up at her, and you half-expected her to not even be looking at you, or maybe she was talking to someone else.

Her eyes are on you. They have always been on you.

"I love you too."

Your voice is slightly strained, shaky as you were barely even able to speak. You haven't been going out for long, maybe only a month or two at this point and some part of you knew doing this, dating her, would possibly result in you developing major trust issues forever or hating relationships or whatever bad ending would come out of dating someone like her.

But she has been the best experience of your life.

You just never thought she'd ever truly love you the way you loved her.

Ruan Mei moves closer to you, inching her chair forward as she awkwardly glances between you and your hand, as if wanting to take it. So you put your hand on top of hers.

"I love you, Ruan Mei."

As a scientist, she should understand what it is she's doing and why she does what she does. She doesn't understand the urge, or the sudden compulsion. But she finds herself surging forward, moving to press her lips against yours as if desperate to feel you against her. You freeze, and for a moment she thinks she messed up and this horrible feeling she wishes to never feel again washes over her. A horrible, icy cold, as if someone had just injected ice straight through her veins. But it warms up as soon as she feels your hand against her cheek and your lips move in a way she's never felt before. It feels warm and it feels... it just feels.

She can't describe it but for the first time she feels like she wants to smile.

"Never kissed anyone?"

Your breathless words, flushed face and soft gaze has her feeling like a puddle. She doesn't mind, for the first time ever.

"I may need to do that again... for scientific research." She mumbles dazedly, eyes still glued to your lips. You just giggle, pulling her in again- completely missing the sound of the doorbell ringing nonstop as she smiles for the first time against your lips.

[enaelyork]

Could I request a prewar!cooper Howard x fem!actress!reader where he finds out a producer has been making her sleep with him under the threat of cooper losing his jobs! 💓

Hi you !

Thx you so much for this amazing ask. So, here we are, hope you enjoy it.

I resign [PreWar! Cooper x F! Reader]

Ask for Cooper Howard is OPEN

TW: Alcohol, sexual abuse, violence.

Words : 1.9 k

- What's going on between you and him?

- Nothing at all.

You had swallowed your entire drink. You needed that, and a lot more alcohol, to drown out the shameful lie you had just told Cooper. It wasn't your intention to lie to him, but you had no choice.

- Are you sure ? Because he hasn't stopped looking at you since we both talked.

- He is afraid that you will corrupt his main actress…

The word had lightened the atmosphere, just a few seconds which allowed you to glance at Oscar Sullivan. The producer of your last film with whom you were forced to make this sordid agreement. You're due for another chance at Cooper Howard's career. It must be said that since his divorce, things have gone rather badly for him. A long absence from film sets and his image tainted by a marital breakdown earned him several refusals. So, when you applied for this new film together, you were delighted to learn that he had been chosen to play the lead alongside you.

But it was not without consequences.

It wasn't without Oscar's hands on your body, his mouth on yours and the consummation of your contract right at his desk. You thought that your charms would be enough, that once he had a taste of it, things would have improved for you as well as for Coop.

Big mistake.

The suspicion with which Cooper looked at you brought a blush to your cheeks. You put it down to drunkenness – the only way to escape from this situation – but it was an illusion.

It's difficult to admit to your friend that Oscar was waiting for you to join him in his hotel room after this reception, and that it was in your interest not to decline his offer. The features of his face calmed. As if despite his suspicions, he still managed to trust you. This semblance of carefreeness in him soothed you. He soothed you, probably more than he should. But Cooper had always been special to you, long before his divorce from Barbs, and he had brought out things in you that you had buried for a long time.

- You're worrying for nothing. Oscar is lovely to us, isn't he?

He hesitated before answering something much too nuanced for you. Cooper had noticed the way the producer treated you once on set. The way he devoured you with his eyes and took pleasure in making you shoot scenes in scantily clad clothes. The subject had already been brought up more than once, but you always managed to find a valid excuse, especially through the scenario.

- I assure you that everything is fine. But I'm going to go to bed. The champagne is really going to my head and we're back to work bright and early tomorrow.

Without you having time to react, Cooper's lips rested on your forehead and his scent of musk and wood spice spread into your nostrils. The intoxication he provoked in you made you dizzy and in that moment, when your eyes met his, you wanted to confess everything to him. That he was right. That you sleep with Oscar for him, so that he can finally relaunch his career. That in bed with this guy, you thought of him.

That you feel dirty. But nothing came except this awful sad smile which definitely cast doubt on your situation.

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

- He kissed you.

Oscar’s grip on your hips had tightened the moment he came to join you on the threshold of his bedroom door.

- Just a kiss on the forehead, nothing important.

- You really love him, then? Me who thought you only had eyes for me. Maybe I should take it away from you to remind you who you belong to, beauty.

- Of course not. You get ideas. It's only you who matters.

You kissed him, closing your eyes, trying to take your soul out of your body and put it on autopilot. He smelled of whiskey and cold tobacco, a smell the opposite of the one that still haunted you. Once the door closed, you didn't see the shadow watching you further down the hotel corridor and all the consequences that would follow.

----------

Cooper didn't even speak to you the next day.

Yet you had tried to approach him. Asking him if his night went well, if his text made him feel comfortable or if he needed anything. As the day went on, it became apparent to you that he was avoiding you a lot.

Then his eyes met yours and that look broke your heart definitly.

There was darkness in his hazel eyes, a darkness that seemed to slowly absorb him and painfully compress your soul. The day had been a constant torture searching for any sign of peace between the two of you, but nothing. The nothingness and sadness he sent back to you were unbearable. Then, the end of the day turned into a nightmare.

He had been drinking.

More than he should have done at the workplace, but you knew Cooper had that tendency ever since Barbs left with Janey. His life had become so disjointed that he no longer had any defenses to confront his ghosts. How could he believe in himself when the one he loved had decided to let him go too?

- Cooper, you need to go back to your dressing room now.

- And why this ?

He wasn't drunk, just enough to remove all inhibition from his mouth and turn his sweetness into venom. The look of contempt he gave you gave you chills. You waited until he left to take him to task and reason with his self-destructive attitude.

- Because your career is at stake, dammit! You didn't do all this to screw everything up.

- Are you the one who screws everything up? Do you want me to go back to my dressing room and play the whore producer?

You brought your hands to your mouth. Trying to understand how he could have known about this situation.

- Yeah. I saw you last night, sweatheart. It's not very nice to lie, especially to end up with this guy.

You were unable to answer him, frozen, petrified by the nastiness of his words. Outside rang out the bursts of laughter of a team satisfied with their long day of work. But there, in this locker room, chaos reigned between you and him.

- How can you do that? With him ? You're not a failed actress though. And…What the hell are you doing?

You were crying.

There were no other possible options. The sobs could no longer stay where you imprisoned them. It had been there for too long. It built up every time Oscar touched you, penetrated you and whispered vile words to you. But now, when Cooper was behaving exactly like a bastard, you could no longer remain impassive.

-He obliges me.

You realized in that moment that your back was pressed against a wall and that Cooper's body was so close to his that you could smell the delicious smell of mint and cold beer emanating from his breath. His hand hovered above his head, not as a threat but as a shield, protecting you from an unbearable world.

-When...When I signed my contract, he told me it was just one time. Once to allow you to be here.

He didn't say anything. Not a word.

A baleful silence disturbed by his slow breathing.

-I thought it would end there. But he told me that if I refused to continue, then he would terminate your contract. And I can't accept that. This role is with you or with no one.

Your breathing was labored, but you didn’t care because it was now obvious that you were going to die of a broken heart.

-I'm not a slut. I…He disgusts me, but I want the best for you, I want you to come back to the forefront, I want you…

Not another word came out of your mouth.

His lips rested on your forehead.

Tenderly. Impassively.

His finger had slid down your cheek, picking up the tear that fell on your skin before leaving, dragging you with him onto the tray with a firm but tender grip.

- Aaah, here they are, our heroes! Oscar was quick to jump out of his producer's seat when he saw you two rushing in together. Then, his enthusiasm faded at the sight of your eyes reddened with tears.

- What's going on, baby? Did Cooper hurt you? Do you want to talk about it together in…

He didn't finish his sentence.

His collar grabbed by Cooper's firm hands, pushing him back so violently that he knocked over his chair. - What the hell are you doing, you…

- I'm not a nice guy. Your friend began in a dark voice. So I'll tell you one thing. If you're looking for an actor to play good guys, you can find another one. I resign.

It had happened.

He had just said it exactly. Some members of the team tried to separate them, but you remained completely impassive, lost.

-And now that you can tear up my contract, you'll tear up hers too. He said, pointing at you with a jerk of his chin. If I find out that you're touching her again, that you're still trying to fuck her without her agreeing, I...

- She agreed, this little sl…

The fist that smashed his jaw flew without warning. Oscar found himself on the ground, disoriented by the shock of the impact. - Never talk about her like that, understand? He moved away from him, not without giving him a threatening look. Looking for his pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his jeans.

- Burn our contracts and explain to all your fans why you won't have your main actors to finish your job.

Shit. It was incredibly sexy to hear him defend you like that. You were shaking nervously, but it was terribly exhilarating to see him beat the shit out of that poor guy. When he grabs your hand, your eyes meet again and you understand that nothing will ever be the same between you again.

- Come on, Sweatheart. I'll take you to the police station. You have a complaint to file against this bastard.

[alpha-trauma-novel-trans]

Chapter 92 Bystander

Garam rested her chin on the table and stared at the two empty seats. Her vision was blurry, as if she was drunk. She rubbed the backs of her eyes a couple times, but focus didn't come easily. 

“Those two will make up, right?”

Sungyu asked Garam casually. He also drank a lot, but he was the most sober among the club members. Garam tilted her head slightly and slowly opened her mouth.

“Well... I guess.”

It had been two hours since the drinking party started under the pretext of summer vacation. The remaining people were busy playing drinking games at the bar after Dohyun and Wooyeon left. Normally, Garam would have joined them, but she wasn't feeling up to it today.

"If I had followed you while you were drunk, it would have been 100% true."

“Yeah...”

Sungyu nodded and sipped at the wheat beer in his hand. It was somehow relieving, and Garam grinned, showing her teeth in a mischievous way.

“You were worried, weren't you?”

“Of course I was worried. Weren't you worried, Noona?”

"Well I... I was worried. If something went wrong between those two, Wooyeon would leave the club."

The fact that the two of them fought was known to all the club members, including Garam. The freshman who carries around the Kim Dohyun by his side, the omega who made Dohyun, who had rejected everyone, declare 'We're dating'. 

Wooyeon's attitude of chasing Dohyun around changed overnight, so it was impossible not to know.

"But I wasn't really worried. If Kim Dohyun does it, he'll do it, right?"

Garam had been confident that Dohyun would somehow resolve the situation ever since they'd entered the cold war, and while she hadn't known Dohyun long, after two years or so together, she was pretty sure he would.

She just didn't think he'd be so easily swayed.

"Wooyeon is amazing, too. Making Kim Dohyun feel awkward."

“Wow, Dohyun is amazing. When I saw that they were taking classes together as freshmen, I thought, "How great must it be for them to do that?"

Though she didn't say it, Garam agreed. She had realized a while ago how much Dohyun loved Wooyeon.

It was about a few months ago, on the day she first saw him.

'Everything he's wearing is designer.'

Garam, who is naturally very interested in clothes and fashion, couldn't help but look him up and down as soon as she saw him. That's because the clothes Wooyeon was wearing at the time were from luxury brands that Garam was familiar with. From the light gray puffer, to the thick sweater, to the sneakers, to even the jeans.

At least a studio apartment deposit, maybe more.

'Did you come in after laying down grass?'

Garam had prejudice against guys from wealthy families. She'd gotten better about it over the course of her time with Dohyun, but her first impression of Wooyeon hadn't been a pleasant. She even thought to herself that she shouldn’t get involved with him.

But that thought was short-lived. The moment Wooyeon turned his head toward Garam, her feelings of dislike quickly turned to fondness.

'...Oppa, what's his name?'

Every single feature was a strike zone. For Garam, a lover of small, pale people, Wooyeon was her ideal type.

Of course, that didn’t mean she wanted to do anything to him.

'I heard about it from the TA Oppa, and he has a pretty name.'

Garam just wanted to get him to join the club. She also thought that she could buy tteokbokki every day if she had a junior like that, so she brought it up to Dohyun. Of course, she didn’t think that Dohyun would react so dramatically when he heard his name.

'It's Wooyeon, Seon Woooyeon.'

'....'

Dohyun immediately ran to where Wooyeon had disappeared. Looking at the back of his figure that anyone could tell had a story, Garam secretly realized. 'Ah, this time it happened again.' It was a truly cunning sentiment, even though she said she had no selfish intentions.

"I guess the two of you knew each other before."

“Come to think of it, Wooyeon called him Seonsaeng-nim back then, didn't he?”

What kind of relationship do they have that makes him able to sway 'that' Kim Dohyun so much? With good intuition, there was only one possible guess. The fact that the private tutor Dohyun mentioned last time was none other than Wooyeon.

"...Then he isn't a total thief?"

Garam had seen people flirting with Dohyun quite often, picking up his number on the street or at festivals. She knew that while he was strict at school, he dated freely outside of it.

So Garam was a little surprised when he showed overconfidence for Wooyeon. She wondered if this guy was just playing around with a freshman who didn't know anything. It seemed like there was something between them, but she didn't want to lose the junior she liked because of some random romance.

'Why are you flirting with Wooyeon?'

To be honest, the fact that she'd lost several Omegas to Dohyun in the past also played a part. It was a strange twist of fate that most of the people Garam had crushes on had crushes on Dohyun.

Of course, even so, her feelings for Wooyeon were genuine.

'If you're not being sincere, then leave him alone. I want to see Wooyeon for a long time.'

Garam was very affectionate, and Wooyeon was the one who kept catching her eye. He didn't have the arrogance that's typical of rich people, and sometimes he was as innocent as a child. If she didn't worry about Wooyeon, it would be even stranger.

'...He thinks my smile is fake.'

Until she heard that, Garam thought it was some kind of bullshit, but the next time she opened her mouth, it felt like a slap in the back of the head. 

'I want to know how long he'll think that.'

It wasn't the words that mattered, it was the look on his face, the way he said them, the way his eyes slid down his face in a gentle smile that made even the most selfless Garam's heart skip a beat.

'Hey, you...'

She interfered simply because she thought it was just a curiosity. As someone who loves the club, as a senior who cares about a junior, as a friend who is worried about him, those were the words she blurted out. But what if Dohyun really meant it?

'If I do this...he'll probably realize what I like.'

That was when Garam started to ignore Dohyun and Wooyeon's relationship. Instead of stepping in and helping like Sungyu, she just watched from afar.

If she thought about it, there were many hints that showed that he liked Wooyeon. He always sat next to Wooyeon at drinking parties, and whenever Wooyeon ate something, his expression softened into an infinitely cute face.

"Well...he's definitely met the one."

Perhaps Wooyeon still didn't know. That Dohyun furrowed his brow whenever he called Garam Noona, that he stared out the window at the café he'd visited to study, unable to sit down like a puppy that needed to poop.

The fact that a guy who hated being bothered helped him register for classes, stayed up all night to guard the living room during their M.T., and held back on smoking whenever he was with Wooyeon were all extensions of those feelings.

“Now that I think about it, this kid did the study group because of Wooyeon.”

Kim Dohyun is also very smart yet he volunteered first and they started studying together. 

From the beginning, it seems that the study was just a forced excuse to meet Wooyeon.

“Ugh, I'm going to smoke a cigarette.”

Garam rummaged in her pockets and stood up. She asked Sungyu if he wanted to come with her, but he shook his head, saying he was getting drunk. How sweet is the cigarette when you are drunk, Kwon Sungyu didn't know the world.

But maybe she picked the wrong time, the smoking room was quite crowded. Garam hesitated for a moment, then turned to walk outside the bar. She didn't mind her own cigarettes, but she didn't want to inhale other people's smoke.

The night air was still cool, and a humid breeze blew outside, foreshadowing the coming rainy season. Garam took a deep drag from her freshly lit cigarette and looked up at the sky. After all, you should smoke in an open space. As she thought this, she heard a voice from somewhere.

"It's time for you to dye your hair."

"I'm already thinking about it. I'm thinking about just covering it up with black..."

Even though she'd had a few drinks, it wasn't hard to recognize the voices. One was Kim Dohyun, the other was Seon Wooyeon. They're peacefully discussing hair dye. Garam snorted and put the lighter in her hand back into the cigarette case.

"Should we go on a trip during the vacation?"

“Where?”

"Well, a light trip around the country would be fine. We can just take my car."

Did they make up? She thought to herself. Looking at the way they were planning their trip, it was clear that they had reconciled. After so much time had passed, it was time for Wooyeon to go easy on Dohyun. She felt relieved, but also a little bit empty.

"I have a driver's license, too."

“You can't use that in Korea.”

“...Why?”

Garam snickered as she heard a voice that sounded quite wronged. She wanted to walk over and talk to him, but he was in a good mood and she didn't want to disturb them. But if she pretended not to notice and smoked, the smell would waft over there. Her drunken brain was too slow to organize her thoughts. 

"Yeah, your pheromones are all over my shirt."

“Really? I washed it.”

“Yeah, I know...I guess it just stayed on.”

That's why he felt strange, and that he wouldn't be able to wear it anymore because it was a waste. This was followed by a series of words full of false accusations.

She didn’t know about anything else, but Garam agreed that Wooyeon’s pheromones were really good. It is dominant, but his fresh and sweet scent is unrivaled compared to other omegas.

“The rainy season starts next week.”

“...Yeah, it's about time.”

Garam tied her hair high with a cigarette in her mouth. Her hair was long enough to reach under her shoulder blades. She should just cut all this hair off or something. It’s already grown this much because she was too lazy to grow it out.

“Wooyeon.”

“What?”

“Wooyeon.”

“....”

“Yeon-ah.”

“...Why do you keep calling me that?”

"Just because I like it."

‘Kim Dohyun is totally crazy.’

Garam, her hair neatly tied up, turned around without regret. 

In the two years she'd been with Dohyun, she'd never seen him so happy. If she smoked in this place, she'd lose her appetite.

'I should go inside and smoke.'

Well, she didn't feel bad about it. Although she didn't do anything to help, she felt a strange sense of pride. She thought it would be perfect if she quickly told Sungyu about this news and smoked a cigarette in the smoking room.

“Ah...I want to be in a relationship.”

The words slipped out of her mouth. Garam let it out like a lament and stumbled into the bar. The sky was high, her heart was heavy, and her unlit cigarette filter was bitter today.

next chapter

[anystalker707]

Playing with fire (amab version)

Pairing: Vinsmoke Niji x [gn, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Hate fucking + Semi-public Tags: He's very vocal / Against a wall / Some insults, nothing serious [afab version]

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          “You are so useless, such a lowlife, that you don’t know how to act at parties. Ridiculous pirate.” Of course, he had to approach you with insults already, mouth twisted as he held a glass in hand.

Niji had a pattern whenever he approached you, including insulting the fact you were a pirate and/or anything you did, sometimes your appearance. It was like having an inverse Sanji around, which wasn’t exactly the best experience, but you couldn’t do a lot other than wait for your crew to get you after the Vinsmoke family managed to get their hands on you. Honestly, the Germa Kingdom was so boring and annoying. Death would’ve been more accessible.

Apparently, there was some gathering going on in that shitty castle, and you were obligated to be around—they knew you wouldn’t run away since you were in a place you knew nothing of, alone, but they still wanted to know where you were. You chose to sit on the sill of one of the many windows in the room, away from the attention of most of them. It felt like you were wasting time; you could be training with Zoro, cooking with Sanji, playing cards with Usopp and Chopper, but no, you were just sitting there and looking out the window of some ridiculous castle.

“I’m talking to you,” Niji reinforced as he stepped closer.

You were bored with it already, sighing as you looked up at him. “What do you want me to do? I don’t wanna argue, nor do I have the energy to prove you wrong.”

Niji’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could imagine him giving you a look of disdain from behind his pathetic glasses. Did he know he didn’t exude half of the power he thought he had? None of the three did, actually. You couldn’t believe you were caught by the goddamn Power Rangers.

“You’re truly stupid,” Niji muttered with a sigh. “With that bounty, being part of that crew, I thought you’d be better than that.”

“If I’m such a bad company, then maybe you should try keeping your distance from me,” you answered in the same beat, almost cutting him off. It surprised him, in a way he couldn’t even react in time. You snatched the glass from his hand and took a sip from the drink. At least it was good—maybe they spent their money on something worth it. They had some booze you’d like to share with Zoro if he were there.

“Who do you think you are?” Niji reached for the glass again, but you stood up and took a step back.

“Pirates will act like pirates,” you said, just to annoy him.

He growled as he stepped after you, stopping in frustration once you downed the rest of the drink. “You—”

“What will you do?” You raised your eyebrows, opening a window and tossing the glass out of it. His hand wrapped around your wrist tightly, but it didn’t even intimidate you. “Kill me? Yeah, you can’t. You gotta put up with me, at least until my crew is here, idiot. You must think you’re so cool with that damn stupid hair—”

“We can just find another way around the situation if you die,” Niji said as he cornered you. Maybe you wished you hadn’t chosen to sit in an empty part of the wide room, but you weren’t exactly opposed to a change in the boring routine there. “They won’t even know you’re dead until they get here.”

“And then what?” You raised your eyebrows. “You’ll get away by disappointing your father? I bet that stupid redhead would even tell him something like ‘I told you so’.”

Niji’s temper—or at least his behavior towards you—was a little more different from his siblings’. Reiju and Yonji didn’t seem particularly worried about you, but they didn’t do a lot when seeing you either; Yonji just made a comment trashing the Strawhats in general. Ichiji wasn’t nice, but he wasn’t responsive to your reactions; he decided that he was superior to you and just acted on it, not paying attention to ‘some pirate’. Niji, however, would attack you and get more intense when you responded, something almost childish, but that built a specific tension between you two. Was it just impulsive? Or did he enjoy it? You liked playing with it, either way. He wasn’t the priority to the others, at the moment, so he couldn’t actually harm you.

“You’re acting up a little too much for someone like you,” Niji muttered, but it was interrupted by a gasp when you stepped forward, bumping your chests together, and he was the one with his back against the wall instead.

A small chuckle escaped your lips. “You don’t know me. All you’ve seen is my bounty posters. When my crew gets here, if I get an actual opportunity to fight you…”

Niji scoffed. “I’d like to see it happen.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a small step back, but Niji immediately pushed you back by your shoulders, making you stumble back into one of the dark halls that connected to the main room. There was a turn before you were practically pinned to the wall again. It was relatively dark—the only light that came in was from outside a nearby wide window—and quiet, away from the main room. The whole attention was there and by the main halls, so it was practically deserted.

“Now what? What are you gonna do?” Niji asked before you could.

You clicked your tongue. “You’re so annoying!”

Niji started cursing as you tugged on his shirt to pull him away, resulting in the two of you pacing back and forth depending on how the strength imbalanced between you. It was a little annoying because he wasn’t doing anything other than pushing you around, so you decided to just let go instead of fighting against him.

Something incoherent came from Niji, breath hitching in his throat as he managed to pin you to the wall—it knocked the air out of you a little since your back hit the wall more force than you expected since you’d given up suddenly. When he pinned you to the wall, however, one of his legs slipped between yours.

…Were you imagining things? Maybe he didn’t notice, breathing fanning over your face as he still panted, smelling like the booze from earlier.

“Niji,” you muttered.

“What?” His voice was sharp. A little pathetic.

You pondered the results of what you wanted to say, silent for a moment, feeling his grip tightening on you. Well, there was nothing to lose with an idiot like that.

The way you shifted made Niji stiffen a little bit—his eyes probably widened behind his glasses. Your thigh was right between his legs, too, pressing right to his crotch, and now moving against it.

“If you wanted a fuck, you could’ve asked for one,” you said with a chuckle, observing him intently. It was a shame it was so dark, and you couldn’t see his face that much.

“Don’t you—” Niji fell silent as you moved your leg a bit, breath hitching in his throat and replacing his words with a whimper at how your thigh pressed harder against him this time. It was a two-edged sword, of course, since he had a leg right between yours as well.

“Shit,” you whispered. You hadn’t meant that to feel good for you as well.

On the other hand, Niji grinned at your reaction. He leaned in lightly, but your hand grasped around his neck to hold him a safe distance away from you as you glared at him. It probably didn’t have as much power as you intended it to have, given the darkness, but it still was something.

“How about I ask you for one now, hm?” Niji whispered, breath hot against the side of your face as he tugged on your shirt a little. You still held his neck, tightening your grip a little—did he whimper because of the discomfort or because of enjoyment? Fuck. Things weren’t supposed to go that way nor make you feel that way.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

Niji grinned more. “That’s the fun.”

There was barely time to react before his lips were pressed to yours. The kiss was a little forceful and harsh, but it wasn’t bad. Groans escaped your throat with how much teeth he added, biting and tugging on your lips with his teeth as if insisting a reaction out of you.

“Goddammit,” you whispered, tightening your grip around his neck until he gasped again, so you could finally keep up with the kiss. You tried to keep it a little superficial, threatening to let your nails sink into his neck whenever he started deepening the kiss or nibbling on your lips again. He became more vocal with it, whimpering a lot more, even moaning when your leg moved between his again. Was he needy?

You shifted, exchanging positions with Niji to press him to the wall this time. His hair brushed against your face as you kept kissing him—it was easier to control the kiss by keeping his head to the wall—, and it was far from nice.

“That hair of yours is ridiculous,” you muttered, moving to kiss down the side of his neck which his hair didn’t fall to. Your hand held mostly under his jaw now, tilting his head back.

Niji groaned, his hands finding your waist and gripping with more force than necessary. “Ridiculous? Watch your mouth!”

“Shut the fuck up!” You said sharply before giving him a sharper bite on his neck. It made him whimper, of course, but he did fall silent. “Good,” you muttered, pulling back for a moment. “Maybe you should be the one to watch your mouth, y’know?”

He twisted his lips a little, but he couldn’t do a lot before the hands on his shoulders were pushing him down until he was on his knees, right in front of you. Since you hadn’t moved, he was practically trapped between your crotch and the wall. You wished you could see his eyes, without those glasses, but the surprised expression on his face was pleasing either way.

“Is that mouth of yours only good for insulting others?” You undid your pants—they’d been uncomfortably tight for a while, so you couldn’t help the groan that escaped your lips as soon as you lowered your pants and boxers. You stepped back to give Niji some space, but your cock still brushed against his cheek as you did so.

“I…” Niji interrupted himself, cheeks red as he slowly reached to hold on to your thighs. He hummed softly, letting his tongue run between his lips to wet them.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, placing a finger under his chin to hold his head up. “Open wide, prince.”

Niji’s lips parted open, tongue out, ready to receive your cock as you guided it into his mouth with your free hand. The warm, wet feeling made you gasp, letting out a moan when Niji actually closed his lips around you. His hands adjusted around your hips before he actually started moving his head—he moved slowly at first, experimenting, and when he saw that he could actually snatch moans from you, he hollowed his cheeks.

A sharp gasp came from you, with Niji’s actions—his fingers sank into your hips as he moved his head, putting more energy into it. He only took a pause as he slowly took you deeper, making your tip reach the back of his throat, before he swallowed around you and pulled away agonizingly slowly. He wrapped a hand around the base to hold your cock in place while he tongued your tip, easily finding a spot under it that made you double over, with a forearm on the wall before you and hand tight around his shoulder.

“Fucking hell!” You moved to tug on the hair on the back of his head until he pulled away from you. “I won’t last like that!”

“Weak,” Niji said simply, licking his lips. He was messy.

“I’ll show you who’s…” Your words turned into thoughts as you motioned for him to stand up. He did so, kissing your neck as soon as he was on his feet. As much as you wanted to argue, you just let him be for a while, enjoying the nibbling and sucking on your neck while your hands worked on unbuttoning his pants.

Niji’s pants and boxers were off only one of his legs, just as he only had a shoe on by now. The urgency couldn’t have you two affording removing your clothes carefully. Your pants were just low enough, even.

It didn’t take a lot of struggle to have Niji up in your arms, legs around your torso, given how eager he also seemed about all of this. He tried his best not to pull away from the kiss he brought you into as soon as he’d ‘undressed’ himself.

Both of you gasped once you slipped in, your cock still wet from the way he’d blown you, but it still met a little of resistance when you pushed in. It took a few thrusts until you could fuck him properly, but he’d been moaning ever since you’d first pressed to his entrance. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, nails digging into your upper back through your shirt as he held on to you, keeping pressing pecks to your lips. Did he like kissing that much?

The way Niji’s thighs were smooth under your hands made you wonder if the vanity ran in the bloodline. Your fingers sank a little into the flesh before you changed the position. It took you a little of struggle, but you finally managed to slip your arms under his legs, elbows under his knees as you held him against the wall, and the new position easily allowed you to go deeper.

A louder sound escaped Niji’s lips when you started a faster pace, snapping your hips against his.

“You’re loud,” you muttered to him, words slipping between heavy breaths. “Shut the fuck up, unless you want anyone to catch you. What if one of your brothers happened to run into us, hm? Seeing you get banged by some pirate you guys captured,” you breathed into his ear.

Somehow, your words only made Niji more vocal. He clenched around you, gummy walls pulling your cock deeper inside him, practically milking you. You let out a throaty moan, letting your thrusts get harsher. If you two get caught, the trouble would be his, either way. Loser.

“You’re good,” you whispered into his ear, “but you know who’s better? Sanji does such a good job.”

Niji hissed, clenching around you again as his nails scratched across your back. “Shut up,” he said, voice shaky and stuttering, and you could feel his thighs tensing up more under your hands. “I just—” He hissed when you slammed harder into him, getting impossibly tighter around you.

“You never stop being pathetic,” you muttered, voice tight.

Both of you stopped talking, letting that relative silence permeate the next minutes as something ticked. The growing warmth in your lower stomach was the same that Niji felt, growing closer with each thrust.

A small whine came from Niji once you took a pause, adjusting your grip lightly, just to be cut off by a gasp and another loud moan the moment you started moving your hips again, using the last bit of energy you had to fuck a little harsher into him.

Niji wrapped his arms tighter around you, breath hot on your neck as he moaned, and with a few more sloppy thrusts, you were cumming deep inside him. You kept fucking him through your high, spreading the cum over his walls neatly, until you finally pulled away and let him down to his feet. His legs were a little wobbly, weak with being fucked so nicely like that, so he had to hold on you while you wrapped your hand tightly around his cock, fisting it until he finally came all over your hand.

There barely was time to react before your hand was pressed to his mouth, not giving Niji much of a choice in his disoriented state aside from licking your hand clean. With your head not so fuzzy anymore, both of you slowly coming out of that bubble, you could notice the marks on Niji’s neck even in the dark.

“Heh… good luck with your neck.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[jelliikiss]

Growing Pains Ch. 7

Tokyo Revengers Masterlist - Growing Pains Masterlist

-(Hanma x Reader x Mikey)

Summary: An unlikely friendship with troubled Hanma Shuji, introduces you to a world you never knew. As you navigate the challenges in front of you, you're forced to confront the things you previoudly knew to be true. Intergang friendships weren't wrong, however your sudden friendship with Mikey Sano seemed to contest that idea. Unexpected cliches plague you in the best way as you deal with what it means to be an adult.

Warnings: Profanity, Drinking, Drug use

Previous Ch. /// Next Ch.

____________________________________

Breakfast was a must the morning after a party. Hanma always preached the importance of a heavy greasy breakfast to cure hangovers, which wasn’t exactly correct. The science behind the battle between the curing powers of greasy food against overindulged alcohol stated otherwise but you couldn’t deny he was right. Because scarfing down your food with him always seemed to make you feel better. Even if the night turned sour and you were fighting, neither of you could ever hold your bitterness long enough to miss breakfast with one another. Sitting across from him in your kitchen eating the takeout he graciously picked up, the two of you had yet to discuss the night.

The quiet ride persisted till reaching yours, where he passed out on your couch too lazy to make the journey home. Waking up to him hovering a hot takeout bag over your head, you freshened up before meeting him at the table. A reality show he swore was stupid but put on anyways, played in the background as you ate filling the silence between the two of you.

Chewing your food, you could feel your energy and will to live re-enter your body with each bite. Having not spoken more than a few words to one another, you both sat occupying yourselves with wolfing down the food in front of you. While you could have opened the discussion, his darting eyes let you know he had something he wanted to say first.

“Hey.” With his mouth still full, he wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry for being a dick last night.”

Feeling the unsavory memory come back to you, you shook your head as you recalled your reaction to their teasing. Having grown up with those guys, you were used to throwing insults at each other. Never had you reacted in such a way, you were sure it took them by surprise as it had you. Maybe it was your insecurities peeking through that allowed those stupid insults to prick you so deeply.

“No. No. I'm sorry. I don’t know why I got so upset.” Poking at your breakfast, you reasoned that the close call last night was the culprit behind the two of you being so wound up.

“It wasn’t right of me to jab at you like that. I don’t know….I just can’t handle their dumb comments.”

“I know, but I just don’t get it. You’ve heard it a thousand times before, right? Ignore it.”

“It just gets so old though. They know we’re friends. Why do they constantly have to make it awkward?”

Sipping the mango smoothie he brought you, you shake your head at him. “Dude you make it awkward. They know, they just like to mess with you. I don’t know why you take it so personally.” Stabbing a hashbrown you bring it to your mouth before continuing.

“I mean would it be so horrible to be my boyfriend?”

Hearing your question, he crosses his arms in front of himself. Giving himself a few seconds to probably imagine the foreign idea, he sits straighter.

“No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“See! There you go. Just ignore them, it’s not like half of them can even get a girlfriend. Maybe they're just jealous.” Chewing another bite, you cut a piece of waffle off, stuffing it into your mouth.

“Just get a girlfriend if it all bothers you so much.”

“That’s not even the issue. I don’t need one.” He argued abandoning his burrito once again.

“Yeah, I know. Honestly I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to you. I’m just saying if you were dating someone, they’d let off. I mean, how long have you been talking to that blonde girl or whatever?”

You watched as the wheels turned in his head. You had seen her around him these past couple weeks and from what you’d seen, she seemed into him. And if she was still around, he was at the very least attracted to her. Maybe she could come off as a bit much, but who were you to judge? You didn’t know the girl.

“I think her name is Kara or something. Something with a K.” Rubbing his chin as he racked his brain, you finished up your drink.

“I think you should try dating her.”

Hanma’s eyes widen with surprise as he watches you stand to discard your trash. “Really?”

“Really.”

Sitting back down you brush your hair behind your ears. Yuck, you needed a shower.

“I happen to think she seems nice and I know she likes you. Dating her would get them off your back and let you know if something other than hooking up is there.”

“Really?” He persisted angling his head a bit to the side, which brought you to mimic his exact mannerisms.

“Yes really!”

“She ambushed me upstairs asking for you last night. She’s way into you!”

“Hmmm.” Finishing his burrito up, he wiped his hands free of crumbs. “Maybe I will.”

Lifting his smoothie to his lips, he pauses momentarily as if recalling something important. The vibe in the room shifts a bit, as he seems to become a bit more serious. Giving you his full attention, he met your eyes which makes you a little nervous for no good reason.

“What did you get up to last night? I didn’t see you after the thing outside.”

Taken aback by his sudden interest as to how you allocated your time at parties, you let out a little laugh. “Dancing and just talking with the girls really. Nothing special sadly.”

Mikey immediately pops into your head which is a tad embarrassing as such a casual conversation could be pinpointed as the highlight of your night. There was no way you were going to bring it up to Shuji though. You knew he didn’t care for Emma’s older brother, so he wouldn’t have anything insightful to say and likely just bitch about your new friend. That and it wasn’t even anything. Just a shared couch and conversation out of aching feet. You didn’t want him to think you liked the guy or anything.

“Pretty standard night tbh.” Hanma watched your face intently as if he suspected you were hiding something. It was a little off for him to be so invested, but you brushed it off as him just making sure things were good between the two of you. Giving him nothing interesting to bite on, he dismissed it stating he needed to visit his mom.

Thanking him for the breakfast, you saw him off as he made his way down to his car. Ready to feel clean, you snagged a clean towel and made your way to your shower to officially start your weekly Sunday reset.

_________________________________________

Authors Note: Hello. Lil shorty chapter to help cut up story a bit and get the ball rolling. I wanted to post weekly but last week i was stuck in a hotel with wifi you pay for n im a cheap ass. I tried to post during the week but work wiped me out. 😔 Here she is tho!

[smytherines]

do you have any hcs for precanon curtwen? how they got together, what they were like etc

Oh for sure I do!

I think they were probably paired up together for missions over the span of a couple of years, and had all this romantic & sexual tension that they convinced themselves was all in their heads, before they actually got together. They had long enough to build a friendship, a partnership, and they're both afraid enough of the consequences (both personally and professionally) that they don't want to even consider making a move.

I always imagine it as something goes wrong on a mission, someone gets hurt, or maybe they have a spectacular success and are high on adrenaline, and Curt impulsively kisses Owen because hey, this guy is attractive and Curt has a crush. Owen is just kinda stunned by it, and Curt pulls away like "oh shit he's gonna kill me," but really Owen has been infatuated with Curt for ages and just assumed Curt wasn't interested.

I could see Owen having an inkling that Curt is into men, but assuming that if someone as cocky and confident as Curt hasn't made a move, it must mean he isn't interested. So Owen has just been pathetically pining for him. I think Curt has been pining too, but because he just kind of assumes in that young closeted queer way that nobody else is "sick" like him, that confiding in anyone will get him in trouble. And in my headcanon, Owen is bisexual, so perhaps he's had affairs with women and Curt assumes that means he isn't interested in men.

Anyways, I love thinking about them in a relationship, even though it breaks my heart. Because realistically Curt and Owen probably only saw each other a handful of times per year, so everything they manage to build together is based on these little stolen moments. I think they start casually hooking up, killing time on missions, but it very quickly becomes something more. It almost has to. You don't get a lot of time to date as a spy, and even less as a gay spy. So even just the act of repeatedly hooking up by default sorta makes them the most important relationship in each other's lives- especially because they were such good friends first.

I personally don't think pre-fall curtwen were as toxic as a lot of people think. I don't really see any evidence of that in A1P1. I mean they both seem to be little freaks who get off on danger and violence, and I'm sure constant distance and secrecy and danger took their toll, but for me A1P1 shows two men who love and respect each other, even if they bicker and mess with each other.

One thought I keep coming back to is that they sneak off for movie dates, mostly because I love classic films and get really into imagining them reacting to the many gay subtext films of the early 50s. I think they sit in the darkest part of the theater and only their legs are touching, and maybe if there's nobody there one of them will put his hand on the other's thigh and it's almost a real date.

I think they'll go to bars- not underground gay bars specifically, but bars where a lot of queer people just happen to congregate, and sit at a booth or a table, and drink together and find little ways to be discreetly affectionate.

I think Curt thinks it's adorable that Owen is a kind of a nerd, and tries his best to pay attention when Owen goes on a ramble or a rant about boring tech stuff (but gets bored and starts trying to make out with him instead). I think Owen is fascinated with how Curt's mind works, how he's seemingly so chaotic and disorganized, but in a crisis he is absolutely cool and calm and comes up with clever, creative solutions for problems.

I think they loved each other, they knew each other so well that one could barely finish a sentence before the other picked it up. I think they were a bit codependent, and the distance started to gnaw away at them towards the end, but they were each other's favorite person in the world. They trusted each other more than anyone else on Earth. They missed each other desperately, but tried their best to put on a brave face every time they had to part. I think they sent each other coded love notes and presents and found excuses to request each other on missions. I think some of their pillow talk included imagining little scenarios where they could run off together and never have to be apart again, and it starts as a fun thing but gradually gets sadder and sadder for them as they realize how impossible that would be.

(That's all I have time for right now but I might pick this back up later)

[timeagainreviews]

Dance, Magic Dance: The Church on Ruby Road

With the return of Russell T Davies we were given a “new” Doctor Who logo with their revamped take on the classic diamond logo. The diamond logo is everywhere now. Books, web content, episodes, and more are stamped with it. Everything except for the “Doctor Who: The Collection,” blu-rays which continue to display the Jodie Whittaker era logo. The reason for this is simple- spines. Most people display books and physical media with their spines facing outward. If you were to change the font on those spines, they lose their uniformity. For some people, that shit is infuriating. It’s not just Doctor Who fans either. The infamous plastic Homer head box for The Simpsons’ sixth season DVD is still controversial. If Doctor Who fans can get upset about a blu-ray spine, then imagine how they might react if you were to change the Saturday time slot to a Sunday. Or even more brazenly, imagine changing the Christmas episode to a New Year's Eve episode. Should be super easy, barely an inconvenience. Right?

It had been six years since Doctor Who last aired a Christmas special. While I have come to appreciate the importance of a Christmas episode within the fandom, I argued in favour of the change at the time as I am not the biggest fan of Christmas. I have history with the holiday, like many of us do. New Year’s Eve also pertains to time, so it made some sense. And for as cheerful as they tend to be, Doctor Who Christmas specials were becoming a graveyard of regenerating Doctors. I get that Christmas is about renewal, but watching the Doctor die on Christmas isn’t my jam, especially if they’re surrounded by a bunch of tacky Christmas decor. Only one other time do we see a freshly regenerated Doctor at the beginning of a Christmas episode and that was David Tennant in  “The Christmas Invasion.” It also consistently ranks as the best of the RTD Christmas specials. Though I believe “The Church on Ruby Road,” may soon challenge that.

Before I get into it, I want to preface this by saying I was on my third flute of Buck’s Fizz by the time the episode started. I don’t usually drink alcohol when I’m about to watch a film or TV show. I once went to see Terry Gilliam’s “The Brothers Grimm,” while drunk and it was a bad time on two fronts. But this was Christmas, I was feeling a bit jolly. I only mention this because I may be a bit fuzzy on the details. It’s funny then that the details are another reason I’m feeling a bit fuzzy. Last night, when I should have been asleep, I was researching runes, glyphs, and symbols in an attempt to identify the symbols drawn on the Doctor’s fingernails. That’s how intriguing this new era of Doctor Who is- it’s got me doing research into the early hours of the morning.

Where I first noticed the symbols drawn on Ncuti’s fingernails was in the below promotional image. They looked like some fan had put them there, but when I saw that it was official, I felt a stir inside. Part of me mourned for the kids who have parents like my mom who would see those symbols, call them Satanic and forbid them from watching Doctor Who. The other part of me questioned their function. I know Ncuti Gatwa is an avid follower of the zodiac, so I was braced for it to be that simple, but I had hoped it was something more. In my research, I had trouble finding an exact match for the two clearest runes in the picture. The character on his ring finger looks a bit like the number three in Psalter Pahlavi or like something from Linear A. While the crescent shape on his middle finger looked a bit like the alchemical symbol for platinum or the zodiac symbols for the Sun and Moon. When you’re a time and space travelling alien, your zodiac and table of elements must reach beyond our solar system. They could be alchemical symbols for Dalekanium or the zodiac symbol for Gallifrey. Maybe with this new magical Whoniverse, the Doctor now writes talismans on his fingers for protection.

It’s an enchanting prospect that we get to discover this new magic through the eyes of a new Doctor and companion. There’s a sort of levelling of the playing field for us as fans to come into this new chapter of Doctor Who slightly off our bearings. Who better to lead us through the chaos of magic than the Doctor himself? If his fingernails are a sign of this change, then he’s already got a leg-up on us, which is an exciting place to be as an audience. It’s so easy to be a pedantic know-it-all when the answer is always “Aliens,” but what about all those times a wizard did it, or in this case, the Toymaker?

Our introduction to Ruby Sunday was a bit surprising. Leaving her on a church doorstep felt like a page out of the Steven Moffat playbook of fairy tale magic. But also grounded in the character development we got with Rose, Martha, and Donna. Ruby’s backstory is a mystery, but her agency is not. Ruby has friends, a band, and a family. We’ve known her for 55 minutes and I already have a decent grasp on who she is as a person. She has a compassion for Lulubelle which goes beyond being kidnapped by Goblins. You can see she feels a kinship as a fellow foundling. She knows how it feels to feel disconnected from her history. Similarly, the Doctor can look at both Ruby and Lulubelle and see himself on their faces. He too was adopted after being left behind. 

I enjoyed this aspect of the story as my own family is touched by adoption. My mother found out she was adopted after her adoptive parents died. Coincidentally, she had already adopted a little girl from China a year or so prior. I now have three adopted siblings and I love them all. It means a lot to me to see them portraying Ruby’s family as a realistic depiction of an adopted family. Her adoptive mother, Carla, is as good a mother as one could hope for. When she admits she was nervous about Ruby finding her biological mother, it’s understandable. She doesn’t want to ruin the beautiful family that started when Ruby came into her and her mother Cherry’s lives.

The Davina McCall scene may be the weakest part of the episode. Aside from the prologue, it’s basically the first scene, and much like the other opening scenes in the RTD2 era, it’s a bit wonky. The dialogue lends itself to Ruby’s nervousness being interviewed, but “foundled,” is a bit too close to fondled for my tastes. It’s VOR all over again. The main takeaway from the interview is that Ruby was the baby left at the church (no surprises there) and that Davina’s people are going to try to find her birth parents. Sadly, as we come to find out, Ruby’s parents prove to be untraceable. The interview is cut short when the mics begin picking up the sound of Goblins. I feel like the only reason they were Goblins is because pointy-eared mischief makers called Gremlins ruining Christmas was a bit too close to a certain ‘80s movie. Better to go for a story with musical numbers about Goblins who steal babies for the Goblin King. No ‘80s movies infringed there… wait a minute. I kid of course, there’s nothing wrong with paying homage to the classics.

Before we get too far from the interview scene, I want to talk about Denzel. No, I don’t mean America’s sweetheart, Denzel Washington, I mean the sound guy. Was I drunk, or did Ruby mention he asked her out? I’d heard rumours she was going to have a bit of a love triangle with her boyfriend and the Doctor. I wonder if it’s not him. It would be weird to have a sound guy with a unique name who gets mentioned again if it’s not going to come back into play. I think this might enter the territory of the controversial aspects of the season that Millie Gibson alluded to recently. It’s funny then that the part of me that finds any of that controversial is the part of me that hates the idea of the Doctor being romantic with companions. I’ve never enjoyed it. Rose and Ten? Blech. Yaz and Thirteen? Snore. Representation matters, sure, but what about asexual and aromantic representation? I get that people might fancy the Doctor, especially when they look like Ncuti Gatwa, but I hope the Doctor continues to ward off any advances.

Speaking of representation, I would like to take a smidgen of a moment to talk about Trudy. As a trans woman, it was nice to see her living her best life. Simply letting trans characters exist is better representation than what we got in “The Star Beast.” They didn’t even pat themselves on the backs about it in “Doctor Who Unleashed,” as I worried they might. Regardless, some cis people think that any trans representation is shoving it down their throats. They reject the reality that for many people, trans people are a part of their daily lives. If your average person took the time to learn people’s pronouns, they’d see we’re everywhere. We’re not trying to shove anything in your face. Trust me. You’re not our type.

As I said above, it’s nice to see Ruby’s life play out over this montage. You learn a bit about her life and what she gets up to. Though when I heard she had a band, I was hoping for something more punk than Christmas standards. Ncuti dancing on the dancefloor was joyous, a word which I find myself using about him a lot lately. I love the embracing of his Scottish upbringing with his kilt. When I read RTD’s Doctor Who Magazine article talking about the Doctor dancing, I worried a little bit. Sure, the Ninth Doctor proved the Doctor dances, but I worried the scene would make the Doctor feel too sexy or too human. The Eleventh Doctor’s terrible dancing garnered the name “The Giraffe,” because it was so unflattering. But the Fifteenth Doctor pulls it off in a way few others could. However, I do still take issue with one aspect of that scene and that’s Ruby leaving her drink unattended in a busy club. There are worse people than Goblins mucking about with drinks, Russell. Let’s make a good example for the young members of the audience.

The montage of the Doctor watching Ruby from afar was actually a note from Disney. Test audiences wanted to see the Doctor earlier, and I don’t disagree. In the words of Werner Herzog’s Mandalorian character- “I want to see the baby.” It also explains why we recently saw footage of Ncuti punching through a snowman head when principal photography had ended months ago. This, of course, was due to further meddling from the Goblins, who appear to be everywhere now. They’re like bedbugs who pass from person to person. I loved the line “A pram at midnight. Really?” Such a cheeky Doctor already. Gatwa gives vibes of previous Doctors throughout the entire episode, but the snowman head scene gave us one I didn’t expect. The Doctor telling the policeman to ask his girlfriend to marry him reminded me of the Eighth Doctor’s penchant for fortunetelling. Only this time, he’s not weirdly omniscient, but rather making a wild assumption after his sonic pinged a diamond ring, which is a thing it does now, evidently.

The Doctor’s new sonic screwdriver has been a bit controversial, because what isn’t in this fucking fandom lately? I get the argument that it’s just not to your liking, that’s fair. But I’ve seen some monumentally dumb takes on the subject. I saw someone complain that it wasn’t shaped like a screwdriver. I hate to break it to you, but none of them have been shaped like a screwdriver. Show me on the Third Doctor’s where you fit the Phillips head. I’ve also seen people complain that it looked like tech from the early 2000s. So their biggest complaints are that it looks weird and out of time. How inappropriate for an alien time traveller. Regardless, I loved seeing Fifteen using his assorted gadgets. His intelligent gloves feel like a natural fit amongst his classic instruments and I can see them coming in handy further down the line. There’s also something about seeing the Doctor pull out the psychic paper that brings it home for me. It’s like seeing the Doctor square off with their first Dalek. It makes them feel complete. I know RTD said they’re giving the Daleks a rest for a bit, but I hope we do get to see Ncuti officially call one a “detty pig,” before he bows out.

The Goblin ship was a great way to introduce us to the new magical aspect of the Whoniverse. Not just because it’s fantastical, but also because the Doctor wasn’t able to use his shiny new screwdriver on it. Had it been a normal spaceship with metal and wires, he would only need to point and click. But this ship is all wood and rope, rendering the sonic mostly useless. The Goblins force the Doctor to learn the science of luck, but the ship causes him to learn the language of rope. I adored watching Ruby and the Doctor bicker while he was busy learning about the ship. They’ve not been together five minutes and they’re already getting tied up by baddies. They have an instant Doctor/companion relationship and it’s obvious why they were paired together. Furthermore, Ncuti’s detachment from the danger of the situation, coupled with an admiration for the Goblins’ tech was pure Doctory goodness. I could easily see Tom Baker fiddling with rope while Sarah Jane complained that he was goofing off.

Because of the charity release of “The Goblin Song,” many of us had become intimately familiar with it before the episode. What I doubt many of us were expecting was for Ncuti and Millie to join in on the singing. While I’ve not heard anyone complain about this, I’m sure someone has. To me, it worked. For starters, it’s a Christmas episode. Secondly, the Goblins have a band. It makes sense that the Doctor would try to win them over by speaking their language. It seems to work as the Goblins dance along with the Doctor and Ruby. Much of their logic seems dictated by whimsy. They sing and dance. They cause mischief. And they are attracted to coincidence. It’s not just that Lulubelle is a baby, it’s that she’s flavoured by happenstance. Both she and Ruby are foundlings left on Christmas Eve. It’s like the sound of a dinner bell for these little munchers. While the singing and dancing worked for both the scene and the Goblins, I hope RTD continues to use it sparingly. While I expect to see it return with the Beatles episode, I don’t want the concept to wear out its welcome. Doctor Who can afford the odd musical episode, but let’s not go crazy.

With Lulubelle saved, the Doctor and Ruby get her back home before Carla or Cherry ever notice she’s gone. This gives the family a chance to meet the Doctor, starting with Cherry. Cherry’s reaction to the Fifteenth Doctor was an understandably thirsty one. RTD kind of wrote himself into a corner by casting Gatwa. It must be exhausting to begin every scene with “The Doctor enters the room and people are immediately enamoured.”  He exudes charisma in a way that makes you stop looking at David Tennant. Remember the bi-generation scene? Little known fact, but Tennant was also in that scene. Another enjoyable aspect of the Cherry scene was seeing the Doctor flirt back. I know I said I dislike a romantic Doctor, but it was nice to see it with someone more age-appropriate. I kid, but what I did like about the scene was that he spoke to her as if she were a young woman. Because for him, she is. And even further, it didn’t feel like that cutesy old people flirting like “If I were younger,” bullshit. It makes sense that a time traveller would find whoever a person is in the present the most important. You can travel to the past or the future, but it all pivots along you in the present. We stand outside past and future versions of ourselves. To me, this is why the Doctor is compassionate, he sees the pivot people are capable of making. Can you now pivot beyond a dark past into a bright future?

The meeting between Carla and the Doctor was less flirtatious. Carla seemed open to this eccentric Doctor while keeping a concerned mother’s distance. The ironic thing is that not only is the Doctor like Ruby and Lulubelle, but he’s also a lot like Carla. Both of them know the weight that comes with what the Twelfth Doctor would call “duty of care.” Like the Doctor’s long list of previous companions, the photos on Carla’s fridge tell a story of lives touched. This is why when things go bad and Ruby disappears, the missing photos on the fridge cut us to our core. Michelle Greenidge floored me with her performance here. Seeing her claim her life is great because she has no responsibility was harrowing. We’ve seen her real truth. She’s a centre point of light illuminating the lives of many, not this selfish woman in it for the paycheck. Even Cherry now feels forgotten in the other room, waiting out the clock. This is a reality the Doctor cannot tolerate.

Not only are the Goblins little baby-stealing monsters, but they’re also time-hoppers, whatever the hell that means. How it differs from time travel probably has more to do with a Time Lord’s concept of elegance than anything else. But like the Daleks, I doubt Goblins have much of a concept of elegance. If anything it’s a warped admiration for coincidence. And if a baby Lulubelle isn’t a viable meal option, then the other side of that coincidental coin, baby Ruby, would have to suffice. After all, I’m fairly certain if they don’t feed the Goblin King soon, he’s going to start wooing Jennifer Connelly at a masked ball. The Doctor travels back to that church on Ruby Road. Tears still running down his face, we see the mysterious woman leaving Ruby behind. Is it her mother? Is it a younger version of the mysterious Mrs Flood? Is it Ruby herself? The Doctor doesn’t have the time to go chasing after her. He has Gobbos to stop.

Floating above the church steeple like Bowser’s airship, the Goblins begin hauling Ruby onboard. The Doctor climbs to the church roof where he puts the last spark of power in his intelligent gloves to the test. Instead of climbing up to the ship, the Doctor begins pulling the ship back down to earth by its rope ladder. However, the ladder is more likely to give out before his gloves do. So in a last-ditch effort, the Doctor brings all of his weight down using the gloves’ ability to increase mavity (I know) on the ladder. The ship plunges onto the church steeple which stabs up through the hull and into the belly of the Goblin King. With his influence and magic now dispersed, the ship and all of its Goblins disappear with it, leaving baby Ruby in a freefall. No pressure. The Doctor of course catches her using the gloves to cushion her fall. It was all a pretty lucky gamble considering the steeple could have just as easily hit Ruby, but luck is now a tangible thing, so maybe it was lucky. You could say “The Doctor killed a guy,” but you could also say this was the Goblin King’s second chance, and as you remember- “No second chances.” It would appear that the Doctor is still that sort of man.

With the Goblins gone, neither Ruby nor Davina McCall will be plagued with bad luck. Davina even gets so lucky as to have the Doctor appear just in time to prevent her from being brained by a Christmas tree star. The pictures on the fridge are back, and so is the giant crack the Goblins left when they attempted to kidnap Ruby. It makes you wonder just how Carla and Cherry will fair with squirrels getting in through the roof while Ruby is off exploring all of time and space. Does insurance cover acts of Goblin? Who knows, maybe Kate Stewart will stop by with a restoration team. All the Doctor would need to do is make a call. Mrs Flood returns to commend the Doctor for a better parking job. Is it just me or was that a subtle hint of disability representation? A subtle reminder not to block the pavement for the elderly and disabled.

I liked that the TARDIS appeared to invite Ruby inside by opening her doors to her. You could say the Doctor flipped a switch, but he was busy doing his fourth costume change. I like to think she was giving her seal of approval. I never quite understood why the TARDIS didn’t like Clara. It seemed to come out of nowhere. The TARDIS was like, “I dunno why, but I don’t like this bitch.” I guess you could say the whole Impossible Girl thing made her competition, but now it’s just starting to sound like Moffat writing women. But the TARDIS and Ruby? Just gals being pals. Sisters before misters. Empowered women empower women. Yas queen.

In the end, we’re left with Mrs Flood comforting her neighbour Abdul after he sees the TARDIS dematerialise. She gives the camera a devious smile as she says “Never seen a TARDIS before?” This of course is the classic Davies Easter Egg. He knew the fandom would blow up. And dammit, after almost twenty years of saying it, it had better be the Rani. Some people have said Romana or Susan, but she feels a bit more sinister. Besides, if it’s Susan, I’m going to be disappointed because Carol Anne Ford is still alive. If it was Susan, we’re owed a flashback to her regeneration. The reason she feels slightly sinister is the way she gaslights Abdul about the TARDIS. She yells at the poor man like he parked the thing in front of her house even though she apparently knows what it is. Conversely, she could be nobody we’ve seen before. Perhaps she’s an Eternal or “the Boss.” Either way, I’m intrigued.

Ncuti Gatwa is finally the Doctor. It almost feels unreal to be able to say that. Not only have we waited a long time to say it, but what an exciting Doctor he is already. He brings an invigorated energy to the performance. He's full of charm and I can't picture many Doctors pulling off a curtsy as well as he did. I’m still waiting for him to get a bit scary, but his amazed reaction to seeing Goblins about to eat a baby shows me he’s capable of it. I would like to see them show his age a little, but there’s still loads of time. His conversation with Cherry gave us a glimpse at the ancient being behind his eyes, but I would like to see more. While the Doctor may still have hang-ups about his past, it would appear his time with Donna was a time of emotional healing. The Doctor isn’t afraid of his emotions and it’s been a bit of a revelation just how much I like that. This Doctor wears his hearts on his sleeves and it’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s a far cry from “I'm still quite socially awkward,” and I couldn’t be any happier about that. We have a new Doctor. A new companion. New rules. Is anyone else excited for May?

[mixu]

Naruto and H1n0t0's wedding chapter confirms SNS

For part 4 of Shippuden’s last chapter analysis, and how it actually confirms sns, we’ll go back to the events previous to the wedding.

Pt 4. On how Iruka failed Naruto

As I mentioned on pts. 1-3, the chapters leading to the wedding always seemed odd to me. Something about the flow of dialogue made me feel like there was something I wasn’t understanding. There was one scene in particular in which I felt one of the characters was overreacting about something that shouldn’t be that big of an issue. That scene is where Naruto asks Iruka to attend the wedding as his father.

First, I’ll let you watch the clip (sorry about the quality and lack of sound)

The scene starts with Naruto visiting Iruka. There’s some small talk until Naruto mentions his bachelor days are numbered and wants to make the most of that time, to which Iruka reacts by shouting at him and recriminating him for how hard Hinata has been working for the wedding.

Look at Naruto’s face

He doesn’t understand Iruka’s reaction, and I agree. Why is Iruka so upset? Naruto’s joke might have been in poor taste, but it was a joke. Granted, planning a wedding is a pain in the ass, but Hinata mentioned in the previous episode that her father had taken care of most of it. Hell, she’s the heiress to the wealthiest most powerful Clan in Konoha. Everything gets done for her (she had fucking bodyguards during the war!) She is not doing the planning alone if at all.

Then, Iruka says he failed to raise Naruto as a decent person (blow #1), which is an overstatement because a couple of ramen bowls and heartfelt conversations don’t equal raising a child, then tries to drag him to Hinata’s house to apologize for raising such a thoughtless man (blow #2). Naruto stops him and says they can’t go to Hinata because if Hinata is present, he can’t say what he wants to say… seriously? Iruka asks what he wants to talk about and Naruto responds he’d like to talk about it over ramen (his comfort food) and some drinks, and Iruka cuts him off.

Look at their faces after that

Naruto is nervous because of Iruka’s reaction

Iruka is pissed. I know that face. My mother made that face whenever she was about to tell me how I had fucked up something, and it was never pleasant. But why is Iruka so pissed when Naruto hasn’t even said a thing? What does Iruka suspects or knows Naruto to be guilty about? Then he goes and throws this bomb on Naruto (blow #3):

“I guess I didn’t need to mull over what to say and how to congratulate you.”

「おまえをどう祝ってやるべきか何を伝えればいいのかいろいろ考え必要はなかったな」 I leave the original dialogue too, but it’s pretty much the same:

Like, what? That must have hurt, and it did because look at Naruto’s face when Iruka is walking away.

As I see it, Iruka’s line can be interpreted two ways. Either he knows about sns and that’s the reason Naruto has neglected Hinata, so Naruto doesn’t deserve the consideration of his words. Or, he suspected Naruto was planning to call off the wedding, in which case there was no need for Iruka to prepare a speech.

There’s a pause before Naruto says he has something to ask from Iruka. This makes Iruka turn back because he wasn’t expecting a request (what were you expecting, Iruka?) and notice we don’t get to see Naruto’s eyes but he’s mouth is tense.

When we see his eyes again Naruto looks sad. Why? Okay, maybe he doubts Iruka will grant his request after the way he has been treating him. Or, maybe, he has realized he can’t trust Iruka with what he actually had wanted to say.

Naruto seems lost in thought when he asks Iruka to attend as his father, which softens Iruka’s face like effective immediately. And Iruka is like “Oh, that was it? I thought you were about elope with Sasuke.” And once more, Iruka’s body language doesn’t make sense to me. The tears, ok, it’s an emotive moment, but the clenched fists and the eyes (as if he is containing himself from doing or saying something) before he accepts, don’t add up to me.

Naruto doesn’t look happy, just relieved. Again, not the right reaction in my opinion if his original plan was to ask Iruka to attend the wedding as his father. Naruto should have launched himself at Iruka like he did after Iruka gave him his headband in the first chapter. Instead, they go all formal and thank each other, then Naruto makes a haste exit. Where is he going? Just before the conversation went awry, he was insisting on them having ramen and drinks. Shouldn’t they be celebrating? Moreover, why couldn’t Hinata be present when Naruto presented his request to Iruka? Just a couple of scenes later, Hinata herself says she knew about Naruto making his request.

And why does Iruka starts sobbing when Naruto gets out of sight when they have seen each other cry before? This reeks of guilt and explains why he was behaving the way he did during the wedding.

Imagine being Naruto full of doubts, searching for the support and understanding of the person he trusts the most, the closest thing he ever had to a family and getting this reaction. No wonder their relationship is inexistent in Boruto.

***********************************************************

Stay tuned for pt.5

[darlingzelda]

Hello! Could I request a Garreth Weasley fic where he overhears some other students in their year planning on slipping a love potion to his crush and how he would react? I die for protective!Garreth

:) thank youuuu

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽’𝓼 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮

protective!Garreth Weasley x MC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Summary: When Garreth hears that a Slytherin Prefect is planning on slipping Eva a love potion, he makes plans to protect both her innocence and her wellbeing.  

A/N: For the purposes of this short fic, MC is a Gryffindor student and is named Eva Tamsin. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Potions Class was as lively as ever.  

Eva had just brought her finished potion to Professor Sharp for him to inspect when she came back, looking down at Garreth’s cauldron. “Another drink?" 

They were supposed to be working on the Draught of Living Death prior to O.W.L season, but Garreth had other plans, it seemed.  

Garreth jumped, startled by her voice. His green eyes widened when he saw his deskmate standing there, peering into his cauldron with those brown eyes he was so enamored with. 

"Not this time," he said, shaking his head. He had been focused on brewing one of his newer concoctions, and hadn't even noticed her approach—which was an unfortunate rarity for him. 

He frowned, looking at her as the gears turned in his head. 

"Hey, do you think I could ask you something?" 

“Ask me what?” Eva’s sparkling doe eyes turned on him, wide with curiosity.  

Garreth hesitated for a moment, wondering if it would be wise to ask her this or not, but after a moment he just decided not to worry about it. What was the worst that could happen? She’d figure him out? 

"...do you think you could tell if someone, uh, has a crush on you?" he asked. He cringed a little inside as he finished asking, hoping he didn't sound too awkward.  

“Me personally, no.” Eva laughed, brushing her dark brown hair off her shoulders. “I’m a little oblivious when it comes to that sort of thing. But I bet you’d be able to." 

"So...do you mind if I ask you another question then?" he inquired, looking almost sheepish. His green eyes couldn’t seem to find hers, too bashful to meet her line of sight.  

“Another question?” 

Garreth took a breath, looking away as he attempted to gather his courage. He still felt just as awkward and slightly nervous, though he wasn't quite sure why. He'd done this before with other girls (though he was never so serious about them), so why did this one feel so different? 

"Okay, so let's say, hypothetically, someone... likes you," he began his voice only wobbling a tiny bit. "How would you want them to tell you?" 

“Me? I hadn’t really thought about it before.” Eva shrugged, tidying her things away with enthusiasm. “I suppose in a special place." 

Garreth was already running through the possibilities in his head as to what she would classify as "special". 

"Special like.... in the Astronomy Tower at night? Special like in the Great Hall during a feast? Or special like Hogsmeade on a date?" he asked, looking a little excited now.  

“Why, do you plan on asking someone on a date?” she queried, sweeping her red hair off her shoulders and looking down at her cauldron to clean it. “Sounds exciting. Must be a lucky lady.” 

Garreth hesitated a moment. He wanted to be smooth and sly, but somehow Eva made him more nervous than usual with those brown doe eyes of hers. 

"Maybe?" he admitted, watching her as she worked, grinning a little. She was pretty cute when she was working. "Do you have plans for the next Hogsmeade trip?" he inquired curiously, trying not to sound too eager. 

Eva nodded. “I’m going with Natty and Poppy to find some robes for the fall.” she said excitedly, her emerald eyes sparkling. 

"Oh," he said, a small flicker of disappointment on his face that he managed to quickly hide when he caught himself. 

He did his best not to let it show, but he was slightly dejected at the fact that she seemed more excited about shopping with her friends than the prospect of maybe him asking her to go with him.  

The bell rang, signifying the end of class. 

Eva looked up and then stuffed her books in her bag, hurriedly flashing Garreth an innocent smile. “I’ve got to get to Charms. I’ll see you later, though!" In a flash, she’d walked out of the stone doors, a slight waft of vanilla perfume the only remnant of her presence next to Garreth.  

Garreth stared after her, almost a bit dumbfounded, but managed to snap out of it enough to call a "bye!" after her. 

Leander Prewett, who had been packing his things away from the next table, looked at Garreth with hesitation before nudging him insistently in the arm. “Hey." 

Garreth was still a bit lost in his thoughts but turned to Leander when he nudged him. 

"Yeah?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too distracted or upset. His mind was in a million places right now, but mainly the fact that he missed an opportunity to take Eva on a date.  

“You should maybe keep an eye on Eva for the next bit. I heard one of the Slytherin Prefects was going to smuggle her a love potion.” Leander said, his voice low so no one would overhear. Professor Sharp seemed to be busy preparing for his next class, and most of the other students had filtered out already.  

Garreth's eyes widened at the revelation, but he quickly composed himself. 

"You know who it was?" he asked, his protective instincts kicking in. He was already planning what to do to anyone stupid enough to use a love potion on her. He wouldn’t know what to do if she suddenly started wanting to kiss anyone besides him.  

Leander sighed. “Yeah. Was talking to Sebastian during Defense Against the Dark Arts and apparently it’s Cassian Finley. He overheard Cassian talking to another fifth-year about it while he was sneaking about the Restricted Section again." 

Garreth cursed under his breath. Cassian Finley? Of course it had to be him. Garreth had always hated the jerk. 

"Do you know if he has the potion already?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as low as he could to avoid Professor Sharp’s scrutiny as they walked out of the dungeons together.  

“Probably does. J. Pippin’s Potions sells them in Hogsmeade, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Finley tries something over the lunch period.” Leander frowned. “I don’t think Sebastian told Eva." 

"Of course he didn't," Garreth said bitterly. "Sebastian isn't exactly one to rat people out," he said, knowing from experience. "Well, I'm not going to sit here and just let it happen - I'll go warn her myself," he said, a mutinous scowl on his freckled face.  

“You can’t do that!” Leander pulled Garreth back by the back of his robes. “If the professors get wind of someone in possession of love potions again, they’ll start doing dorm searches. That means you’ll get all your concoction stuff found by your Aunt. Just… I don’t know, make sure Finley doesn’t go through with it somehow." 

Garreth cursed again and ran a hand through his red curls in frustration. Leander was right, and Garreth knew it. As much as he hated it, he didn't want to get Eva in any trouble. 

"Fine, fine, I won't say anything," he grumbled, "I'll just make sure to... stop him, I guess. Somehow. Dammit." 

“Just stay annoyingly close to Eva or something." 

"Annoyingly close? I can do that, no problem," Garreth said with a wicked grin. His emerald eyes glinted. Annoying was his specialty. And he was pretty sure he could pull it off well enough to make Cassian decide not to risk it and give up on his idiotic plan. 

Leander hesitated, and Garreth shook his head. "Oh, come on, you make it look like I'm incapable," he complained. "I'll be just fine. I can annoy him more than anybody." He glanced aside, a small grin on his face. 

"Besides... I'm a little worried about how to explain how I know he's planning to give her a love potion,"  

“She doesn’t have to know. Just make sure Finley doesn’t slip her anything." 

Garreth nodded in agreement. That would be the best way to handle it. Still, knowing that bastard Cassian was going after Eva with intent to *make* her fall for him was... infuriating. 

"Don't worry. I'll be sticking closer to her than glue," he said seriously. 

-+-+-+-+-+-+- 

Eva came out of Charms class deep in conversation with Natty. She seemed to be in high spirits as they parted ways, and Eva intended on heading to the Great Hall for a bit of lunch. 

Garreth hurried out of the main corridor just as she and Natty parted ways. He spotted her almost immediately and rushed to catch up to her, easily catching up to her thanks to his long legs. 

"Hey, Eva!" he greeted brightly, falling into step beside her. 

“Oh, Garreth.” A surprised look took a hold of her face, and she smiled. 

Garreth returned her smile, just glad he was able to catch up with her before she went somewhere. "Where you off to?" he asked, his tone casual as they walked along together. He was keeping close to her so no one could get too close—especially Cassian. 

“I was going to get lunch." 

"Perfect, mind if I join you?" he asked, acting as if this had been his plan all along. 

Garreth looked at her with a small grin, feeling somewhat smug as he walked alongside her. She didn't seem suspicious, so his plan to deter Cassian from attempting to use the love potion seemed to be working... so far. They fell into step together, and Garreth was sorely tempted to grab her hand and hold it.  

“Okay!” she nodded enthusiastically, putting her Charms book in her bag. Little did she know, Cassian was loosely tailing the pair with intent on catching Eva by herself during the lunch period to slip the potion in her Pumpkin juice. 

Garreth was feeling rather proud of himself. He might have to try this whole 'stay annoying' thing more often if it worked so well. And he definitely wouldn't mind sticking close to Eva if it meant keeping that idiot Cassian away. 

As they walked along, Garreth kept his gaze on the people around them, keeping a close eye out for the fifth year that was plotting against her. 

In the Great Hall, Eva seated herself at the Gryffindor table and grabbed a sandwich, putting it on one of the golden plates that had been pristinely-set by the House-elves. 

Garreth sat down beside her as casually as he could, though he kept a watchful eye out, still looking over the people around them. He was keeping a close eye out for Cassian, but he kept a particular close eye on the Slytherin students, knowing that's where the little bastard would turn up sooner or later.... probably. 

“I really want to do more flying lessons this year.” she was saying enthusiastically, picking up her goblet from the table and taking a sip. “Maybe I can be good enough to join the Quidditch team?" 

"Oh, you'd be great for the team!" Garreth chimed in, grinning. He couldn't hide his genuine excitement at her comment—he had a feeling she would make a wonderful Quidditch player. 

Not that he couldn't see how much she enjoyed flying on her own either. It was clear how much she loved to fly every day. 

"Which position would you want?" he inquired, curious. 

“I really want Seeker. But if I don’t get that, Chaser would be okay too!” Eva seemed to be genuinely excited, picking up her fork to start on a delectable-looking piece of shepherd’s pie. 

"If you got Seeker you'd probably catch the snitch before the other team could score a bunch," Garreth said with confidence. He didn't doubt for a second that she'd be a great Seeker. He watched her start to eat for a moment before speaking again. 

"Yeah, I think you could handle Chaser, too. You're pretty quick. You'd probably be good at dodging..." he trailed off, falling silent as he spotted Cassian approaching. 

Cassian adjusted his Slytherin robes, smirking slightly and brushing his dark curls out of his face. Leaning on the table beside Eva, he nudged her with a debonair smile. “Hey, Tamsin." 

Garreth clenched his teeth together, wanting very badly to curse the bastard out. He didn't even look all that charming, he didn't understand why Eva hadn't already told him to piss off. But he sat back and remained quiet, hoping the whole "stay annoying" thing was working for now. 

“Um, hi?” Eva looked up with surprise, not expecting one of the Slytherin Prefects to be seeking out conversation with her. Her brown eyes, wide as ever, absorbed him in, making Garreth seethe internally. Was she... checking him out?! 

Cassian smiled wider, flashing a confident grin. Garreth scowled internally. 

"I just wanted to say hello," he said smoothly, his confidence oozing. He turned to Garreth and shot a sly grin. A taunting grin. He thought he was so clever, like no one knew about his damned potion. "Mind if I sit with you?" 

“Um- okay-“ she said quickly, not noticing when he brushed his fingers against her cup to move it slightly towards himself. 

Garreth clenched his teeth together, feeling like he was about to have a heart attack as he watched Cassian move Eva’s cup toward himself. Oh, that bastard was about to pull something, Garreth just knew it. He was practically ready to jump up and curse him out at this point. 

“Seen you around. You’re quite the clever little thing, aren’t you?” Cassian said smoothly, pulling a bottle of pink liquid from his pocket right out of her line of sight and moving towards her goblet. 

Garreth's stomach dropped. This was it. He had to do something, and he had to do it now. If he let Cassian go through with it, who knew how Eva would react, and it would be his fault for letting it happen. 

"Eva, can I talk to you? Privately?" Garreth spoke up, his voice a bit louder than necessary, his tone urgent. 

“I think she’s fine right here. Be sporting, yeah?” Cassian flashed a provocative grin at Garreth, wrapping an arm comfortably around Eva's shoulders. She looked baffled as to why he was doing this, stuttering wildly. 

Garreth clenched his fists under the table, biting his tongue. He didn't want to start a whole thing, especially not in the Great Hall. "It'll only take a second, trust me," he said desperately, trying to sound calm. "Please?" 

“Um,” Eva tried getting up, but was locked in place by Cassian’s arm around her. His other hand snaked around to uncork the bottle and spill a few drops into her drink. 

Garreth's eyes widened as he watched Cassian slip the potion into Eva’s drink. He felt like his blood was boiling. How dare he do that right in front of him? He wasn't even trying to hide it. 

“Quite the popular little minx, you are. Blighted pretty, too.” The Slytherin prefect put the bottle back in his pocket, flashing Eva another brilliant smirk. 

Garreth clenched his fists. This bastard was just asking for it. There was no way he would let Finley get away with this. 

"Don't talk about her like that," he growled, gripping the table tightly. He was trying to stay in his seat, but he wanted to punch that Slytherin in the face more than anything else right now. 

“Or what, Weasley?” Cassian’s sharp blue eyes turned on Garreth, almost daring him to continue silently. 

"Or I'll put you in the Hospital Wing, Finley," Garreth practically growled, his eyes narrowing. He glared coldly up at the taller Slytherin, not at all intimidated. He'd been wanting to punch that smugness off his face for months, he just never had a good enough reason until now. 

Cassian laughed, clearly not the least bit intimidated. He looked rather more amused than anything else at the threat, almost like he thought it was childish. "And how do you plan to do that?" He inquired, arching an eyebrow. "You going to try to fight me, Gryffindor?" 

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Garreth snapped, glaring at Cassian. 

It was already taking every inch of self-restraint he had left not to punch him in the mouth as it was. Why did he have to be so smug about using a love potion on some unsuspecting girl? Didn't he know how wrong it was? 

Cassian shrugged. “I fancy myself to be quite the duellist. I wouldn’t try anything, if I were you. I’m also a Prefect. You could get yourself in a whole lot of trouble if you stir things up, Weasley.” he said with a coy grin. 

Garreth clenched his fists, glaring at Cassian as he spoke and feeling his blood boil more each second he was near him. He hated him. He hated him so much. 

"You think I care? You're using a stupid love potion on an unwilling person, I think that's a lot worse," he practically spat, shaking with anger. 

“What??” Eva blinked, wriggling her way out of Cassian’s grip to stare at the contents of her goblet. “There’s a love potion in here?!" 

Garreth didn't take his eyes off of Cassian as Eva got out of his grip and looked at her cup, instead watching to make sure that bastard didn't do anything else. 

"Yep, he snuck it into your drink when you weren't looking," Garreth said, pointing to the potion. "The little bastard doesn't know how to take no for an answer." 

Cassian scowled, pulling out his hawthorn wand. “You’ve gone and said too much, Weasley. Too bad you had a fair-looking face, I’m going to have to ruin it." He stood up, intent on cursing Garreth.  

Garreth sneered at him, pulling out his own wand. If that bastard thought he was so confident with that damn love potion, he was wrong. "I'd like to see you try, you lowlife," he challenged, his glare cold and harsh, as he pointed his wand at him. 

“Garreth Weasley!” Professor Weasley rose from her seat at the Staff table, hurrying towards him with urgency. “What is going on here? No magic is permitted within the Great Hall." 

Garreth glanced at his Aunt for a moment, frowning a little at the interruption as he lowered his wand—but he was so angry and eager to beat the hell out of Cassian that he didn't really mind so long as he got his shot after he was done talking with his Aunt. 

"This idiot—" Garreth indicated to Cassian "—is using a love potion on Eva so she'll fall in love with him on false pretenses." 

“That is a very serious accusation.” Professor Weasley looked down at Eva with an expression of slight worry twisting her mature features. “That cup. Let me see it." 

Garreth took a step back to give her some space, still watching Cassian in case he tried any sly tricks. 

Eva quickly handed her cup over without a second thought, clearly still in shock about the whole thing. 

Professor Weasley brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply, before setting it back down and pursing her lips into a thin line. “That is indeed a love potion. Mr. Finley, are you responsible for this?" Her sharp eyes found Cassian, flashing dangerously. 

Cassian only offered a frosty glare in response, offering no answer to Professor Weasley’s question. 

"Of course he is," Garreth said bitterly, almost as if the Slytherin would have owned up to it if he wasn't. "He's the one who slipped it into her drink. And then he bragged about it. A scummy lowlife." 

“It pains me to give you your third detention this month, but you will come to my office immediately. I will speak with the Slytherin head-of-house and if I receive one more complaint of your illicit behaviour, I will be stripping you of your Prefect status.” Professor Weasley said strictly, her eyes flashing. 

Garreth watched with satisfaction as Professor Weasley told Cassian off. He felt almost smug as the Slytherin looked completely humiliated and dejected, realizing that he was about to face the consequences of his disgusting behavior toward Eva. 

He almost wished he could punch him a few times for good measure... it would teach him a lesson, but he didn't dare with his Aunt right there and he didn't want to get in more trouble than Cassian. 

As Professor Weasley marched off with Cassian in tow, Eva silently poured the goblet into a trash bin. “Thanks for… well.." 

"Of course," Garreth said, unable to hide a grin. He was ecstatic that Cassian was finally getting what he deserved. "I can't believe that bastard tried to use a love potion on you," he said, still feeling rather disgusted with the Slytherin.  

“I didn’t know he was going to.” she looked quite humiliated, her cheeks pink with shame. Her head was slightly lowered, her brown eyes focused on her shoes.  

Garreth shook his head, feeling awful that she was embarrassed and ashamed when none of it was even her fault. "Hey, it's not your fault," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's on him for being such a disgusting creep. You’re worth more than him, and you know that." 

Garreth's gaze lingered on Eva’s face for a few seconds, still feeling a protective and almost angry anger that Cassian would attempt to take advantage of her like that. 

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, looking at her with concern. 

“I’m okay. Thank you, Garreth." Eva responded finally, looking up at him with her precious doe eyes. Every time she looked at him, his heart did backflips in his chest. 

Garreth was glad to know that she wasn't really upset. He let a small grin slip, grateful that she wasn't freaking out at the whole thing. 

"Good," he nodded, "just let me know if something like that happens again, alright? I can't stand by and let jerks like Cassian take advantage of girls." 

When he sat down again, Eva moved closer and gave him a soft kiss on his freckled cheek, her lips brushing his skin in an intoxicating manner. “Thank you.”