#my mood is directly linked to the temperature

[ionomycin]

Maiden of Light

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Kinktober 2024, Prompt 3

Prompt 3 - Temperature Play

Terzo and my OC Vinnie from Messing with the Missionary Man deal with broken AC on a hot summer day

Contains ice play, light Dom/sub overtones, biting/nipping, vaginal fingering, a spank/slap.

AO3 Link or

Read below the cut!

         The Ministry’s AC was broken and it was a record heat day. Siblings and Clergy alike were coping with the heat as best they could. Some fled outside to the lake or fountains, others to the lower basement levels below ground where the air was naturally cooler. Those who liked the heat were enjoying the sun, with regular reminders to hydrate and cool down. Others had taken to their own spaces, lying in front of fans. This is what Vinnie had opted for, deciding if she needed to be miserable because of heat, she would at least be naked. She was sprawled naked on the bed, a fan behind a bucket of ice pointed directly at her when Terzo found her. “We could go to Edinburgh,” he grumbled, “I think the flat’s air conditioning is working.” “It’s still a construction site, isn’t it?” Terzo grunted in reluctant agreement, pulling his tie off and starting to undress. “You better not be planning on stealing my fan,” she said with a glare. “I’ll fucking fight you.” “Why don’t you shapeshift so you take up less space then so we can share, hm?” Terzo gave her a little shove before he pulled his shirt off. “Rude ass motherfucker.” She muttered as she moved over. “ I’m the rude one?!” “Mm, mhm,” she mumbled. As Terzo’s bare back was exposed, Vinnie lobbed an ice cube from the bucket at him. He yelped in surprise, finding himself pelted with more pieces. “Vincencia!” he snarled, spinning around. “What?” “I am in no mood.”

         Vinnie slumped back onto the bed, adjusting her position to take the prime spot in front of the fan again. “Grumpy pants,” she muttered, throwing one more piece of ice. Terzo stilled, a growl building in his chest as he turned slowly to face her. “You’re being a fucking brat,” he informed her sternly. “And brats need to cool their antics.” His eyes stared her down, and he threw the shirt aside and stalked to the bed. “Oh shit,” she breathed, scrambling to get off the other side of the bed. “No, no, no! You stay right there!” He snarled as his hand closed around her ankle and yanked her back. “Terzo!” she shrieked, trying to tug her ankle free. “You know your safeword,” he hissed, mounting the bed behind her.          Vinnie squirmed as Terzo straddled her thighs, one hand firmly in the middle of her back. “I don’t think this is going to help us cool down, you know.” “We’ll see about that, won’t we gattina ?” he murmured in her ear as he leaned over her, grabbing a handful of ice from the bucket. “Terzo, we can discuss–” Her words turned into a hiss of surprise as the handful of ice was dropped on her back. Her squirming caused the ice to slide across her skin, some sliding off and under her, chilling her breasts and belly. The air from the fan hit the trails of water and sent goosebumps across her skin. Terzo’s hand pressed the remaining ice against her skin, sliding it up her back, across her shoulders, and back down towards her hips and butt. Vinnie shivered, squirming more as Terzo’s mouth followed the trail of melted ice, leaving heated kisses and nipping at her skin. A whine left her as his hand slid down her ass cheek to between her thighs, the chilly fingers stroking her intimately. “Definitely still fired up, aren’t you, brat?” He teased softly, letting a finger stroke her clit.

         He didn’t wait for a response before his hand left her cunt, reaching for more ice. The next piece teased along her neck and ears, causing her to shiver and her nipples to harden more. Tracing the base of her neck and along her pulse, Terzo let the ice melt from her body heat, the cool water dripping down her body. Before taking the next bit of ice, he made her roll over. Vinnie watched him pop the ice in his mouth, but was quickly distracted by his fingers finding her nipples, rolling them firmly. She groaned softly, her hips lifting into his legs around her. “Terzo,” she gasped out. “Hm?” he asked, brow raised. Her eyes closed as he pinched her nipple hard. “Fuck.” “Mm.” Vinnie felt him move, and his mouth replaced his fingers. Cold and warm surrounded her; his mouth was cooled by the ice he’d sucked on, but still held some warmth. The remainder of the ice cube, however, was just cold. She groaned, back arching, wishing she could grind against him.

         Soon her other nipple was given the same treatment, and she squirmed under him. “Please…” she breathed quietly. “Uh-uh,” he mumbled, lips still locked on her nipple. “Please!” He broke away long enough to speak. “Brats don’t get what they want. Brats get discipline.” “Isn’t that what they want half the– Ow!” She yelped as his teeth closed sharply on her nipple. He tugged firmly, then moved his mouth across her flesh, trailing bites towards her other breast. The rattle of ice reached her ears as he grabbed more, pressing it firmly against her nipple, circling it down her breast and following the trail his mouth had made. A whine left her as his hand dragged the ice down her torso, his mouth still locked on her nipple. “Unnn, no…” she moaned in protest as his fingers slid the ice over her pussy lips. “No?” He murmured. “Should I leave you hot and bothered? The purpose of this was to cool you down.” “Liar,” she breathed as he dropped the ice and slid his fingers into her. He chuckled as she bucked against him, curling his fingers to perfectly torment her. “God fucking damnit…” She grit out. “We’ve had this discussion – God can’t help you here.” He grinned at his own joke. “Terzo!” She whined, grimacing at the joke. “All right, all right.”

         His fingers worked her into a further frenzy, and he moved so he wasn’t straddling her, free hand working his belt open. “Have you learned your lesson, brat?” he teased affectionately. “Never,” she whispered breathlessly, smirking a little. “Typical for you,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “Guess I’ll just have to keep trying.” “Hurry up and get naked,” she snarked. “There’s still ice if you plan to be bossy,” he said pointedly, pressing his fingers into her g-spot. She grunted in pleasure before responding. “If you use all the ice on me there won’t be any for the fan to blow over.” “I will carry your bratty ass into the shower and douse you with ice cold water if you keep sassing me.” “You’d throw out your back, old man.” Vinnie yelped as Terzo’s free hand slapped her thigh. “I’ll show you an old man.” “Mm, please do,” she smirked as he moved off her to finish stripping. There would still be a cool shower in their future, but not before they shared the fan.

[carmichael-psychology]

5 Surprising Sleep Tips from a Clinical Psychologist

For those with demanding careers and busy minds, getting a good night’s sleep can feel like a never-ending challenge. The usual advice—like taking a warm shower before bed, limiting screen time, and cutting off caffeine early—are helpful, but sometimes they’re just not enough. In this post, I’ll share some of my favorite sleep hacks that go beyond the basics to help you wind down and get the rest you deserve.

1. Use Your Smart Home Device to Nudge You into Sleep

Smart home devices like Alexa can do more than just play music or set timers—they can also help you establish a bedtime routine that feels personal and comforting. By programming your device to say your name (which our brains are naturally wired to respond to), you create a gentle nudge that reminds you how important sleep is. For instance, my Alexa is set to say, “Chloe, time for bed. Your sleep is important,” every night at 9 p.m. After that, it plays relaxing audio that I’ve pre-selected—sometimes it’s soft piano, other times rainforest sounds, depending on my mood or even the season.

You can mix up your audio choices to keep things feeling fresh or stick to one that you find particularly soothing. The key is consistency—your device becomes a cue that signals your brain it’s time to wind down, making sleep feel less like a chore and more like a rewarding routine.

2. Use a REM-Friendly Sleep Mask

Eye masks can be a game-changer for signaling bedtime to your body, and many people find the gentle pressure of a padded mask to be soothing. However, not all masks are created equal—some press directly on your eyelids, which can inhibit REM sleep since your eyes need to move freely during this crucial stage of sleep.

I recommend using a REM-friendly sleep mask that allows your eyes to move without restriction, like the one linked here. This simple adjustment can help enhance your sleep quality by ensuring you’re not inadvertently disrupting your natural sleep patterns.

3. Program Your Phone to Go Grayscale Every Evening

Let’s face it: avoiding your phone before bed is easier said than done, especially when you’ve got important emails or last-minute messages to send. But staring at a bright, colorful screen can keep your brain wired when it should be winding down. A simple but effective trick is to set your phone to automatically switch to grayscale from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. This removes the color and bright stimulation that keeps us glued to our screens.

With the color drained, your phone suddenly becomes far less enticing for endless scrolling, impulse shopping, or mindlessly watching shorts. It’s a small adjustment that can have a big impact on helping you reclaim your evening and prioritize your sleep. Remember, app developers and tech companies have designed their products to capture as much of your time and attention as possible. This simple grayscale hack is a great way to regain control over your nighttime habits—and your sleep.

4. Control the Temperature of Your Bed

Many driven people tend to "sleep hot"—it's like they're burning with energy. Women in menopause can also experience night sweats, and some people struggle with chills. Controlling the temperature of your bed can make it easier for your body to experience "sensory takeover," where your body is enveloped in the delicious feeling of a perfectly comfortable bed. As a former yoga teacher, I believe the body-mind connection helps to calm the mind when the body is experiencing a strong tactile signal to relax.

One effective way to control your bed's temperature is with a product like the BedJet, which uses warmed or cooled air blown into a special top sheet to regulate your bed’s temperature throughout the night. For couples with different temperature preferences, BedJet offers an optional sheet with dual compartments and preprogrammed biorhythmic temperature programs for men and women. You can use their options or create your own—it’s pretty cool, and my sleep has improved dramatically since getting one.

While the BedJet can be pricey, investing in quality sleep can pay great dividends, and Amazon's return policy is quite generous if it doesn't work out for you. If a BedJet is out of your price range, consider ensuring your room thermostat is set to cool in the evening (most people sleep best in a cool room) and try using a weighted blanket to help your body settle down.

5. Calm Racing Thoughts with a Simple Routine

Many clients say that when they lay down to sleep, they often have racing thoughts. They try to block them out, but the thoughts are intrusive and "won't shut off." If this happens to you, try keeping a pen and paper by your bed and writing down any thoughts before you go to sleep. This sometimes helps your brain to relax and "offload" any pressing thoughts.

If more thoughts arise after you lie down, try one of two things:

A) Write them down with the intention of revisiting them tomorrow when you're fresh and rested—sometimes thoughts are repetitive because they're important. If you want to try this, make sure to keep a pen and paper on your nightstand—don’t “write” on your phone. Your phone cues your brain to start thinking actively about all the websites and apps inside it, and we all know that the LED screen can be very stimulating. Just keep a simple pen and paper to jot a few basic thoughts before getting back to sleep.

B) If the thoughts don't seem important and it's just your brain having a hard time settling down, try a tip from my book, Nervous Energy: Harness the Power of Your Anxiety: Silently repeat to yourself, "The most productive thing I can do right now is sleep. The most productive thing I can do right now is sleep." For people who thrive on productivity, settling in for sleep can be a challenge—this simple thought replacement technique can help your brain focus on the productive value of sleep.

A similar strategy is to tell your Alexa or smart device to play a podcast or audiobook so that you can drift off with your eyes closed while giving your "inner monologue" something light to focus on rather than letting your mind churn on more active thoughts about your day.  While I mostly listen to music or a podcast, I have occasionally used products from a company called Hypnosis Downloads– I don’t really think of them as true hypnosis, to me they are more like guided imagery meditation…. But whatever you call them, they have been helpful to me:)  Here is one of their downloads on insomnia.

Ready to Sleep Better?

If these tips resonate with you and you'd like to work on improving your sleep—or any other area of your mental health—feel free to contact my office. We offer therapy and coaching services tailored to your needs, whether you’re looking to manage anxiety, improve relationships, or simply get more restful sleep.

Disclaimer: This blog may contain affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you make a purchase through the link, at no additional cost to you. These commissions help support the content I create and allow me to continue sharing helpful tips and advice—and of course, they make it easy for you to find the exact products I mention, if you'd like. To see my Amazon store, go to www.drchloe.com/amazon. The ideas shared in this blog are for informational and entertainment purposes only. They should not be considered medical advice or a substitute for any medical treatment. See your doctor if you have any concerns that seem beyond self-help.

[tallmantall]

#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth - #AirPollution Can Drive People To Kill Themselves

The cause seems to be brain inflammation provoked by tiny, airborne particles Polluted air is bad for your health. It increases the risk of strokes, #heartdisease and a list of respiratory illnesses. It is linked, as well, to low productivity at work and poor scores on academic tests. And #pollution may have a yet-more-sinister effect. It may also promote #suicide. Claudia Persico and David Marcotte of the #American University, in Washington, dc, examined #suicides throughout #America between 2003 and 2010. They looked for a link between these and aerial levels of fine particulate matter known as pm2.5 because its particles are less than 2.5 microns across. These can enter the bloodstream via the lungs. They hypothesised that poor air quality worsens people’s moods, which in turn increases the likelihood of someone experiencing #suicidalthoughts. #Suicide rates vary for many reasons, so the two researchers concentrated on correlating day-to-day changes in the number of #suicides in particular places with fluctuating #airpollution levels caused by alterations in wind direction. In Boston, for example, north-easterlies blowing into the city from industrial areas bring air carrying around five micrograms per cubic metre more pm2.5 than westerlies from upstate Massachusetts. The researchers worked out these wind-related pollution patterns for every county in #America, and matched them with daily #suicide statistics. Their analysis was published as a working paper by the National Bureau of Economic Research, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. It found that an increase of one microgram per cubic metre in pm2.5 in a given place was linked to an average rise in daily #suiciderates of just under 0.5%, and if that increased level was sustained for a month, hospital admissions connected with attempted #suicides rose by 50%. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleOrder your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife:From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com An inflammatory conclusion These results stood up even when controlled for temperature and cloud cover, which might feasibly affect mood and be related to wind direction. There was, however, geographical variation. Dr Persico and Dr Marcotte found that the impact of pollution on #suiciderates was greatest in poorer counties, in those with more unemployment, and in those with liberal gun-ownership laws, since access to a firearm presumably makes it easier for a potential #suicide to turn thought into deed. To test directly the idea that poor air quality worsens mood they took data from surveys about mood and #mental state and checked whether the answers were related to pollution levels in respondents’ home towns in the month leading up to the survey. They found that even a single additional day in a typical month during which pm2.5 levels were above 35 micrograms per cubic metre was associated with a small but consistent increase in how often people reported they felt depressed, had little pleasure in doing things or were tired and lacked energy. They also found an increase of around 1% in the number who had been told by a #doctor that they had #depression. Previous research has shown that pm2.5 pollution can cause an inflammatory response in organs, including the brain. Many researchers think inflammation disrupts normal operation of the brain’s reward pathways, which help regulate mood. Consistent with this, some trials have found that anti-inflammatory drugs improve mood in those with #depression. Other work, meanwhile, shows that such people have consistently higher concentrations than others of proteins called cytokines, released during inflammation, in their blood, and that #suicide victims, examined after death, have high levels of inflammatory cytokines in their brains. In #America, average pm2.5 levels in populated areas are around twice the #WorldHealthOrganization recommended maximum of five micrograms per cubic metre. A study published in 2021 suggests meeting that figure might save 100,000 lives a year. In this context the 770 #suicides which would, if Dr Persico and Dr Marcotte are correct, be avoided by this reduction are only a small extra saving. But #suicide is such a tragic end to life that it would be a particularly welcome one.  Read the full article

[cuddlepilefics]

Right here

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jisung

Caregivers: Chan & Minho

Prompt: Sneaky temperature check @sicktember

No one’s POV.:

Jisung had started feeling off only a little after having lunch with his group. Maybe it was the food not sitting right but whatever it was, it certainly took a toll on the rapper’s mood. Earlier that day, he had fooled around with his friends, being full of energy, but the longer the day progressed, the quieter he became. The slight discomfort he had felt in his stomach earlier had turned into a painful ache that made it hard for Jisung to find a comfortable position in his seat. The entire group was currently at the studio recording but unlike usual, the rapper wasn’t really in it with his whole heart. Usually, he’d give his friends encouraging smiles and advice on how they could do better but today, he was quiet, only speaking when he was asked something. The same couldn’t be said for his stomach though, which often decided to gurgle loudly when everything around him was silent. “That really didn’t sound good, you sure you’re feeling alright?”, Chan frowned, sitting next to Jisung and hearing the younger’s stomach rumble angrily. Patting his tummy, Jisung laughed: “I feel fine actually. My tummy’s just really noisy right now.” It was only partly a lie. His stomach was indeed noisy but to be honest, he didn’t feel fine at all. The pain was only getting worse and all his attempts of playing it off had exhausted the rapper. He was ready to just go home and curl up in his bed. At least that was what he intended to do as soon as they were done here.

Towards the end of their recording session, he had had to excuse himself to the restroom multiple times, feeling increasingly queasy. However, when he got there, the feeling eased up, so he just stood there rubbing his tummy and taking deep breaths before going back to the studio. When he returned from his last trip, his members had already packed and only waited for him, so they could head back to the dorm for dinner. Jisung cringed at the thought of having to eat anything but knew he didn’t have much of a choice if he didn’t want to admit to feeling sick. Had he thrown up at all, he would probably open up to his members but since it was only a stomach ache up to this point, he’d rather handle it on his own. The ride back to the dorm was straining to say the least, as every turn of the road caused his stomach to slosh nauseatingly. Staring out of the window, Jisung rested his head against the cool glass and took deep breaths through his nose as he fought to keep his stomach in place. Cold sweat was running down his back as he flashed hot and cold.

By the time they made it to the dorm, the rapper’s shirt was sticking to his back and he unsteadily stumbled out of the vehicle, relieved to be on solid, unmoving ground again. Minho watched him stumble and linked their arms to steady his dongsaeng. Though Jisung wouldn’t admit it, he was extremely grateful for the support, not sure he would have made it up to the dorm on his own. He had to resist the urge to crouch to the ground and cradle his poor tummy when a cramp twisted his abdomen. Minho tried his hardest not to let the worry show, hearing the rapper’s pained gasp. He just hoped the boy would speak up about what was bothering him. The dancer also noted, that Jisung had gotten progressively paler over the course of the afternoon. At this point, he was certain the younger was sick but if he was, why wouldn’t he say anything?

At the dorm, Jisung made a beeline for his room, plopping down on the edge of his bed and hugging his cramping middle. It was a mystery to him how he could go from feeling perfectly fine this morning to being this miserable now. “Hey, are you okay, hyung?”, Jeongin frowned, entering their shared room. He had intended to get the older to join them for dinner but was taken a back when he found the rapper basically folded over his lap, hugging his stomach. Jisung nodded, flinching when he forced himself to sit up straight. The maknae wasn’t buying it but decided not to press on the topic, merely stating: “Dinner’s ready and Chan wanted me to get you.” – “O-Okay, ‘m coming”, the older muttered, struggling to his feet only to pale further. The room was spinning and he swayed for a moment before regaining his balance. Jeongin watched him closely, his brows furrowed. Something wasn’t right with his hyung at all. Joining their members for dinner, Jisung cringed at the smell of food. His stomach churned painfully and sweat dripped down his temple. How was he supposed to get through this without throwing his dinner right back up? The members had compiled a wide variety of food, partly left-overs from the previous day and partly take-out that the members, who finished recording first, picked up. Praying he would somehow be able to stomach it, Jisung settled for a small serving of plain rice as he considered it his safest chance.

The members knew Jisung was sick, from his odd behavior to his dinner choice to the tiny amount he ate. The rapper may have thought he was hiding his discomfort alright but anyone who knew him could tell something was up. Worried about their friend, they wanted to know what was going on, so they’d be able to help but knowing he would deny everything if they asked him directly, they just tried to push him to admitting it. It started with Chan scooping more rice onto Jisung’s plate, claiming: “I don’t want you to get hungry for midnight snacks during the night.” Jisung didn’t know how he did it but somehow, he managed to finish all of it, fully aware that he’d come to regret that decision later on. When they cleared the table, Felix hugged him from behind, feeling the rapper tense up in his arms. It took all of Jisung’s willpower to not throw up right there and he struggled to quickly remove the Aussie’s arms from his sensitive middle. He was just about to flee back to his room, when Minho pulled him to the living room. “We hadn’t had a movie night in such a long time and we don’t have to get up all that early tomorrow, so let’s have some quality time”, the dancer beamed, dragging his dongsaeng to the couch. “Hyung, I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I think I’ll just go to bed”, Jisung frowned, trying to get come up with some reason why he couldn’t spend more time with the group. Minho smiled and made the younger sit down next to him on the couch, promising: “You can lay on my lap. It’s no problem if you fall asleep halfway through but I really missed you, so please…”

Jisung really couldn’t bare hurting his hyung’s feelings, so he let himself be talked into watching a movie with the rest of the group. Taking Minho up on his offer, he had his head on the dancer’s lap, while the older played with his hair. Maybe it had been the right decision because it distracted him from his pain enough to fall asleep. When Minho was sure Jisung was out completely, he whispered: “Chan-hyung, could you get me a thermometer? His face feels pretty warm. The forehead one would be best because the ear one would probably wake him.” – “On it”, the leader agreed, quietly getting up and collecting the thermometer from the bathroom. When he returned, Minho had already brushed Jisung’s bangs out of his face to allow the oldest easier access to his forehead. Chan carefully approached them and quickly took his dongsaeng’s temperature, detecting a moderate fever. Just when he pulled the thermometer away, Jisung’s stomach gurgled loudly, confirming their suspicions further. “We should really get him to bed”, Chan sighed, “Can you help me, Min?” The dancer nodded and got up as soon as Chan had picked the rapper up from the couch. Minho went ahead, opening the door to Jisung’s room and folding back the blanket. They tucked their dongsaeng in and closed the door, so he could rest undisturbed.

The next time Jisung woke up, it was already after midnight. The dorm was dark and quiet, the members all except for Jisung sleeping soundly. At first, the rapper was confused as to what had woken him at such an early hour. Flushing hot, he felt his stomach twist and quickly pushed off the blanket. Jisung staggered to the bathroom, one arm protectively wrapped around his middle, as he fought off the nausea. He squinted, blinded by the bright bathroom light, feeling disoriented as he crashed to his knees in front of the toilet. A harsh but unproductive retch tore from his throat, making the boy shudder at the thought of what was to come. Sweat trickled down the rapper’s back as he knelt there, swallowing convulsively. He couldn’t be sick. Jisung crossed his arms over the toilet bowl and rested his forehead on them, drawing a shaky breath through his nose. He hated throwing up, so much so, that he was determined to fight it off with every ounce of energy he might have left. Another cramp had him cry out in pain, quickly silencing himself by biting his lip. He couldn’t wake anyone else up. In a desperate attempt to get some relief, Jisung slipped his hand under his shirt, gently drawing circles with his palm. He could feel the upset organ churn under his hand as his mouth started to water even more. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gagged hard, relieved when nothing came up. There was no way he’d let this happen.

Waking up to an empty room, Jeongin waited ten minutes for his roommate to come back. When he didn’t, the maknae decided to search for Jisung. He spotted light under the bathroom door and gently tapped his fingers against the wood. When there was no answer, he quietly opened the door and found the missing rapper curled up on the rug. Though he was asleep, his brows were furrowed in pain as his forehead glistened with sweat. Knowing this wasn’t good, Jeongin went to wake up Chan, who was up in an instant when his dongsaeng explained what was going on. “Why don’t you sleep here, Innie? I’ll take care of Jisung but you don’t need to lose more sleep, so I’ll just stay in your and Jisung’s room, okay?”, the leader offered. Still feeling sleepy, Jeongin nodded and got comfortable in Chan’s bed, while the older went to check on the sick rapper. He found the boy curled up on the bathroom rug, just like Jeongin had described and he really didn’t look good. Jisung’s face was way too pale for Chan’s liking and his bangs clung to his sweaty forehead. Not having the heart to wake his dongsaeng, he carefully brushed his hair out of his face and placed his palm across his forehead, shocked to find it burning.

Just as he was contemplating how he was going to get Jisung back to bed without waking him, Minho stumbled into the bathroom. He didn’t know what had woken him but was soon certain it had been his intuition, telling him his dongsaeng wasn’t doing too well. “Hyung?”, he questioned, startling Chan, “What’s going on?” – “I don’t know. Innie found him like this and I was just about to get him back to bed”, the leader sighed. They were both startled when Jisung curled up further, whimpering in pain. Minho knelt down next to him and nudged his shoulder, frowning: “Sungie, hey? What’s wrong?” – “Stomach’s killing me”, the younger muttered, still half-asleep. “Did you throw up?”, Chan asked as the rapper became more awake. Jisung shook his head, admitting: “Felt like it but didn’t.” Sitting up, he drew his legs closer to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. Taking a closer look at him, now that the boy was awake, Chan frowned: “How long have you felt like this?” – “Hm, kinda started after lunch. Might have eaten something wrong”, Jisung mumbled, closing his eyes again. Minho ran a comforting hand down the rapper’s back, cringing in sympathy when he felt how sweat-soaked his shirt was. “Sung, I don’t think it has anything to do with what you ate”, the dancer hummed, “You’re running quite a temperature, so I think you must have caught some kind of bug. Do you feel ready to go back to bed?” – “’m so tired, I think I’ll just sleep here on the floor”, the younger refused, keeping his eyes closed. While Minho tried to convince Jisung to go back to his room, Chan sighed: “Oh dear! I’ll grab the puke bucket and thermometer.”

After lots of convincing, Minho helped Jisung to his feet, only to have the boy bend over, hugging his middle as his stomach cramped up again. “It’s okay, just try to breathe through the pain”, the dancer hummed, resting his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. The rapper shook his head urgently, choking out: “Hyung, I don’t feel so good.” Sighing, Minho was quick to get his dongsaeng situated on his knees in front of the toilet. He could tell the younger was fighting his hardest to keep it together but couldn’t help let a tear fall down his feverishly flushed cheek. “Sungie, just let it up. I’m pretty sure you’ll feel better after getting this over with”, Minho whispered, crouching down next to the rapper. Shaking his head, Jisung grit his teeth. “Come on, if it’s making you feel this bad, it would be better to get it out than keep it in you”, the older sighed but Jisung refused: “Don’ wan’ to. Hate it.” He instantly pursed his lips, barely able to swallow back a gag. “I know it’s no fun but I don’t think you’ll feel better like this, Sung. Just get it over with and I’ll help you back to bed, so you can sleep it off”, Minho promised, running a hand through the boy’s sweaty hair. Drawing in a shaky breath, Jisung pleaded quietly: “W-Will you rub my back?” – “Of course, I’ll rub your back”, the dancer whispered back, placing his hand on his dongsaeng’s damp shirt and gently stroking up and down his spine.

Assured by the presence of his hyung right beside him, Jisung’s resolve slowly crumbled. The next time his stomach clenched, he coughed up a large wave of his meager dinner. He was really glad he had settled for something bland to eat because he couldn’t bare tasting it again. Jisung didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, lurching over the bowl as more sick shot past his lips. He shuddered in disgust, feeling Minho squeeze his shoulder before going back to rubbing his back. Just as the next wave splattered into the bowl, Chan walked in to check on the two. He had waited in Jisung’s room after setting it up with a bucket, a bottle of water and a cup of tea on the nightstand. “Make it stop”, the rapper choked out before getting sick again. Minho calmly promised: “Just hang in there, it’s almost over.” Cooing at the dancer’s rarely showing protective side, Chan grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water. “Min’s right, you’re almost there, Sung. You’re okay”, the Aussie smiled, laying the cool cloth across Jisung’s neck. The boy only whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. He hated this.

After a while, it didn’t seem like he could bring anything else up, although his stomach still hurt. He just wanted to sleep. “Let’s go to bed”, Minho cooed, getting up to help Jisung up too. The younger only groaned, resting his head on his arms. He just wanted to sleep, no matter where. Patting the rapper’s back, Chan laughed lightly: “Come on, Sungie. Your bed is much comfier. I’ll even carry you there if you manage to stand up for a second.” Blinking at the leader with teary eyes, Jisung pouted but took both of his hyungs’ hands and let them pull him to his feet. With how dizzy he suddenly felt, he didn’t manage to stand for longer than a second but it was enough for Chan to scoop him up bridal-style and like he had promised, the leader carried him back to bed. “Do you want to have some water?”, Minho offered, uncapping the bottle for his dongaseng. Jisung frowned but accepted a few sips, just to wash away the taste. Sitting down on Jeongin’s bed, Chan reminded: “The bucket’s right next to your bed. Don’t hesitate to wake us up if you feel sick again, yeah?” Jisung nodded, curling up under his blanket. He was surprised when Minho climbed into bed behind him. The dancer knew he was taking a high risk but his heart ached for his sick dongsaeng, so he wanted to give him as much comfort as humanly possible. “It’s alright”, Minho whispered, slipping his hand under Jisung’s shirt, “Let me rub your tummy and try to get to get some rest. Hyungs are right here.”

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

Kaoru Ongaku to Hito Interview  May 2021

DIR EN GREY  Endless originality. Don't shake, don't move, don't give up. As the leader and main composer of DIR EN GREY,  he made me realize in this interview that even if the band is in a situation in which they can't move forward, they are still striving toward their own determination without losing sight of their desire to create music. The new single "Oboro" is a ballad with a simple sound envision that insists on the melody and lyrics. In this single, which was made with the intention of being widely listened, you can feel a different stance on the sounds and the arrangements. I think his obsession with music and the pursuit of originality are changing because of his age and career. On the other hand, the latest promotional photos are still grotesque and chaotic. The future this band is heading for it’s held by his unchanging desire for music. Here there is a dialogue with him which makes you believe so.

Notes before reading: This is Kaoru’s interview featured in Ongaku to hito music magazine May 2021.

You can get this magazine at cdJapan (totally worth it!) Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) -----------

Text by Higuchi Yasuyuki Photographs by Amita Mari Hair & make-up by Yamaguchi Atsushi_ EKYQ

“I’m not in the mood to say ‘let’s do this now’ but recently,  making astounding/ crazy songs might be difficult”

(While turning over the latest issue ...)  Kaoru: Did M-AGE make a come back? 

*M-AGE is a Japanese electronic pop/rock band active during the early 90s. They were feature in the previous issue of Ongaku to hito, April 2021* -Are you affected by that band? (laughs). Kaoru: I was surprised (laughs). -A band that disbanded more than 20 years ago did a comeback, there are another band that the drummer who has been a member for 20 years has left, there have been various things happening (in the music industry) in the past year, but DIR EN GREY has not lost to Corona. K: When it comes to losing, there is nothing you can do about it. - What do you think is the reason why these five people are continuing, without stopping, as a band? K: Isn't it because every one of us think we can’t go beyond this band? If someone gives up, we are not confident we can do something better than what we are doing now. It’s like, we can't get away from each other. It's easier to express your opinion if you keep a certain distance in that sense, and you don't have to accumulate stress about it. -By the way, throughout this year you noticed things and had some thoughts about the band. K:  That’s right….well, since the creation process was originally done remotely, I rarely had the opportunity to meet with the members other than the tour, but in reality it was important to have casual conversations with the members during the tour. There was a moment when the ideas changed depending on the words I exchanged with the members on the spot like “we should try to make this kind of song”… But it was a year when I was making songs without this input, so  it’s like there was  a part of me that felt gloomy. -You felt the importance of talking with the members. K: Even if we communicate remotely, we can just communicate by voice or text but, the mood/situation, the temperature, facial expressions etc…that can only be perceived directly so I thought those things are important after all. -In that situation, did the band make a song that only can be made now or tried to aim for something in your work?

K: That’s not case. It was as usual. We are not in the mood to do something like that now. However, it has nothing to do with this situation but we talked about how recently  it’s becoming harder to make crazy songs. -A crazy song? K:  When the band tries to create a song, naturally it turns out quite relaxed/calm. It feels like it’s what our bodies want. -Why do you want that kind of thing? K: I think that kind of songs makes you feel good, isn’t it? If we want to make a song like “Gya!” (fierce), we can make it but if we do it naturally, there will be more calm/relaxed songs. In other words, our previous single (digital single ‘Ochita koto no aru Sora) was a song we made with the intention of creating something fierce. -Intentionally, you made a fierce song. K: So, there was a talk about what kind adjustments should be done. We did it this time as well, but for now we are not thinking too much about it. Originally, ‘ARCHE’ (album released in 2014) was an album that was closer to that feeling. I just tried to do things I liked. There were a lot of slow and calm songs, but maybe it's easier to come up with such songs these days. -That’s why you can’t let yourself go with your natural flow… K: That’s right. So, the next album ('The Insulated World') was shaken off in the opposite direction. Of course, there are still intense/fierce songs coming out from the members. However, the songs everyone selects and remains in the top ranks are generally calm/relaxed. - 'Oboro' is a song that was born in such a situation. K: There was a talk about this single like ‘let’s make it easy for people who listen to DIR EN GREY for the first time, having an easy-to-understand melody”, so this song became a single. -Why did you decide to go in that direction? K: Somehow, we thought there are quite a lot of people who only know the name DIR EN GREY these days, but don't know what kind of music we are playing. Then, we feel like trying to make it easy for such people to get into us. So, I think it's quite challenging for us. -You are not really a band that “goes outside”. But also this song,  it’s a song that can be classified as a ballad in DIR EN GREY. K: It’s the kind of song we usually would keep for the album. It’s also interesting to dare to release it as a single. -It’s certainly a relaxing song and the variety of sounds is small, so it seems easy to approach but the latest promotional photos….(laughs) I was like “what’s your intention?”. K: Fufufufu (laughs) -But it looks like because of those photos the door is going to be closed before they listened to your music (laughs). K: That's why it's not that simple, like the sound or the tone of the song is intense or not. The song is like this, but this band is actually called ‘fierce’. -You mentioned earlier it  may be a matter of age, but the taste of music changes just as the taste of food changes when you get older. K: That's right. -So, recently, I feel this band doesn't try to resist such changes so much, or like you have started to project a realistic/true-to-life self into music. K: By all means, it looks like we became adults, right? -That’s why I’m familiar with it because we are from the same generation, it just fits. You can listen to it and enjoy a song with faint sounds instead of roaring ones. K: That's right. Simply, this kind of song is the one that roots in me. For example, the synthesizer-like sound that comes out first. -The intro with a synthesizer-like sound? K: That's right. That's my roots, originally I liked  the New Wave and listened to it, so I tried to create  what I was waiting for. *New wave is a broad music genre that included numerous pop and rock styles from the late 1970s and the 1980s* -But I think DIR EN GREY was the kind of band in which the roots of each member weren't projected in that way. K: After all, if five people do it, chemical changes will occur and the result will be completely different. But lately, the things I created haven't changed much, and sometimes they reach the end point. Of course, it's arranged in detail, but for this song, it's pretty much the same shape than at the beginning. -So, I got the impression it was a song that was unlikely to be done by DIR EN GREY until now. K: Maybe if we tried to keep it for the album, the arrangement would have been different. Because it’s a single, maybe I tried to listen to the melody. -In other words, it doesn’t feel like DIR EN GREY. K: Yes, if you listen to it with your existing values/sense of values, you might think it's not like DIR EN GREY. But this time we wanted to do that. That’s why when the president of our label listened to the demo first, said something like ‘This, isn’t it a bit insufficient/unsatisfactory?’ the reply was ‘No, that’s not the case’ (laughs) -Ahahahaha K: So, I think it's a new type of song. But just because this song seems to happen once in a while, the other songs are going to change steadily due to chemical changes going on. "This new song isn't fierce or shocking. Certainly, you can listen to it smoothly but actually….” -Then, I have a question for you Kaoru, not for the band, but do you think your personality has changed a lot from 10 years ago? K: How is that in reality? - Specifically, "DUM SPIRO SPERO" that came out 10 years ago is your commitment and obsession/attachment. In other words, I think it's an album that is full of personality. So, this time 'Oboro' comes from your roots,In other words, it's a song that is full of personality. However, if you compare these two works, the contrast is so huge that you can't think they were made by the same person. K: That's not true. -Oh really? (laughs). K: That's not true (laughs). For me, both are the same me. -But as a listener, I get the impression that the music is exactly the opposite, or that it's completely different. K: Certainly it’s the exact opposite when you  are referring to a band called DIR EN GREY, but it’s not that different for me, rather, it’s connected. -What kind of connection do you have? K: The sound may be different, but the points we are focused are the same. Especially this time, it feels like we've created each sound in detail, so it's more like I'm playing with the precision of a machine inside rather than the outward appearance of the music. -I see. K: Anyway, the most particular thing about this song is the sound of the synthesizer at the intro  I mentioned earlier. I thought the sound at the beginning would determine everything in this song. - Since that kind of determination/passion has disappeared, I was wondering if it would be a song that would allow me to listen to the melody simply. K: That's not true. Is it natural to stick to that? For example, I bought a synthesizer,  and it makes interesting sounds so I tried to create something. But the preset sounds you got when you bought the synthesizer (Note: it's set in advance) don’t work for me. -Why not? K: You have to create your own original ones. Even if I think the preset sounds are are catchy the way they are, I dare to stick to my original ones. Otherwise I can't be satisfied. - I wondered if you had finally abandoned that kind of troublesome pickiness(laughs). K: I’m really picky about that (laughs). But I think that’s normal when you make music. Even commercial pop music can be really picky about it. -You're right. You're right. K: Because it was created with that detail,I think people who listen to it will say "Oh!".If it wasn’t created in that way, it won't convey anything, and if it's as simple as this song, it won't be interesting unless you are committed to it. That is why it is the same as "DUM ". -Surely, but what if you could make it smoothly without being so committed/picky about it? K: Sometimes it’s easy to create, still, it would be nice if it makes you feel something. -I agree. K: This new song isn’t intense or shocking when it comes to the music, so you can listen to it  smoothly, that’s why there is  something for sure that makes you go like  “this song!”. But in reality, there are several sounds, I’m just not trying to hear them properly. It sounds like something that makes you feel it, you can’t hear it clearly, but it’s there. It’s not something new, to stick to that kind that sound, but in that sense it might feel like different or new. -At first, I had the impression that it was new or something different from what I heard before , but that may be the result of your commitment, to the point  that you couldn't hear it. K: I don't know if the word "new" is correct, but now I want to create  in a way that makes easy to project ourselves, while blending  it with something that makes our guts/intestines stick out. If we can do that, I think it will be something different and interesting, like "DIR EN GREY is doing something interesting again". I feel like I'm exploring that aspect now. -We talked about age before but, Isn't this age the time to imagine something like the time remaining? Like taking it easy at this point…..that kind of idea. K: Rather the opposite. I don't know how long I'll be able to create something I'm compromised with, and whether if I will keep having this  energy or physical strength. I want to keep doing it as long as I can. I can only make music with what I have, so I'm not overdoing it in that sense, but I'm overdoing it in a different sense (laughs). You can't create it without straining yourself. -I see, you are not lying to yourself. K: Of course. However, if you rely only on yourself, it won’t beat your expectations. I don’t think that this will change, no matter how many things happen. Still, at last I started to think that our music has some power of persuasion. Do you think we can keep competing with just our music? -It's been like that for a long time. But this band is like asking for something impossible, it’s a band that won’t disappear. K: But isn’t it about creating things? -I agree. Is it still fun to create things? K: It's fun (laughs) -Immediate answer (laughs) K: If we can do it forever, I want to do it forever. There are a lot of difficult moments, but I really like it. -As long as these five people are able to share that feeling, this band will continue. K: I think so. It's okay as long as  I believe in myself and the members. -I see……your speech was  much worse than reading a bad self-help book (laughs). K: hahahaha

[sayonarasanity]

dandelion

summary:  Maybe, it was the fact that Levi was being a lesser bitch than usual recently, for almost four months actually and hell when he thought about it, Erwin was in fact relatively late to see the signs. But the signs were, to his credit, so transparent no one could blame him for not noticing them any time sooner. Because at first, he had believed that the reason why Levi was acting just a slightly bit kinder towards the people in the office, was perhaps the tea machine he had bought himself which was excellent at steeping tea and good tea always brought his spirits up. But now he suspects the reason might not be something that simple.

AO3

Erwin was quick to catch the signs.

The signs, however, were subtle also as fast to disappear. Like the bubbles on boiling water, there were plenty of them but only if you were observant and in Erwin’s case bored enough to catch them. And he didn’t even know if he was interpreting them correctly. Levi was, always had been quite a private man. Despite being friends with him for years there were still times he had to squint to pick up the altering lines of emotions on his face, or times he had to get him drunk for good for Levi to spill out what was bothering him lately. Fortunately, it wasn’t that hard to understand that something was in fact bothering him—he had a habit of being a bigger bitch than he already was at those times.

So maybe, it was the fact that Levi was being a lesser bitch than usual recently, for almost four months actually and hell when he thought about it, Erwin was in fact relatively late to see the signs. But the signs were, to his credit, so transparent no one could blame him for not noticing them any time sooner. Because at first, he had believed that the reason why Levi was acting just a slightly bit kinder towards the people in the office, was perhaps the tea machine he had bought himself, which was excellent at steeping tea and good tea always brought his spirits up. But now he suspects the reason might not be something that simple.

Apart from the tiny change in attitude, the first sign he caught was the umbrella or rather the lack of it.

“Morning,” he greeted as they both stepped inside the elevator. The rain had started simultaneously with the sunrise and hadn’t ceased since. It was a heavy one which caused the temperature to decrease a few degrees. And Erwin knew that this kind of weather was not Levi’s favourite. It was like the dark clouds were somehow linked to his mood, he was surprisingly fast to be affected by them, negatively. As an addition, he absolutely loathed being soaked and if he were to forget his umbrella or couldn’t find it before leaving the house then it was farewell to serenity for the day.

“Morning,” replied Levi, nodding and stood beside him as he pressed upon the button seven, leaving a drop of water slipping down through the buttons as he retreated his hand. And he combed his wet hair back, then used his hand to wipe the raindrops from his face which… didn’t work for both his face and his hand were almost equally wet. He must’ve walked the way from home to the subway then the way from the subway to work.

Erwin noticed that he had been staring not very subtly at Levi. “Forgot your umbrella again?” He asked, smiling to wipe the stupid look on his face.

Levi threw him a very brief glance and Erwin tensed involuntarily because here came the scolding. He was going to pay back trying to talk to a very soaked and a very grumpy Levi Ackerman—

“No.” Erwin blinked because he had actually answered and the tone of his voice was, well not the warmest of voices for sure, but it was at least neutral. “I lent it to a friend.”

“I see,” Erwin nodded, and the elevator stopped after seconds. And it was not until they both left the elevator, walk through the office and he chatted with colleagues on the way to his desk and hung his jacket then his umbrella that he noticed—

Yesterday, Levi had an umbrella.

It wasn’t raining yesterday but the weathercast on their phones was saying that it would start by the time they left work, hence Levi had come prepared, but it hadn’t rained. So, if he had lent it to someone it was either after work, which was unlikely, or it was this morning before he left for work.

Which meant, Erwin thought startlingly as he blinked at the soaked cloth of his own umbrella, that someone, his friend whoever they were, possibly had stayed the night. And the thing was just like how it was impossible to stop the raindrops in mid-air by mental force, it was just as unlikely for someone like Levi, who was so strict about his boundaries, and who had extremely firm rules about hygiene, to let a friend stay at his home. He didn’t even have that many friends, to begin with. Unless that friend was someone overly special, someone, whom he thought was worth flexing those boundaries. And through their years’ worth of friendship, Erwin had never encountered someone as such.

“No way,” he whispered, amused. He genuinely hoped that he wasn’t reading too much into it because Heaven knows he could use some fun especially if it was brought by famous Levi I-feel-nothing- Ackerman.

*

No matter how delightful to think it was, Erwin was not a man to jump to conclusions. The possibility of him making things up was obviously there, solidly. But it wasn’t like he was going to give up that easily. Gingerly, while trying hard not to expose himself, he followed the tell-tale hints as much as he could. Hints like him being more laid back, his features being more relaxed replacing the ever-present scowl every now and then. He was also somewhat absent at times and was looking at his phone more frequently than usual.

Levi was a firmly shut chest and not everyone had the key to open him. And contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a mean person per se. He was simply a little cold, distant and didn’t like to accept everyone in his life easily. Such demeanour was to be misinterpreted, rightfully so. But Erwin kind of saw it as a defence mechanism, plus for someone like Levi who had a complicated background, it was to be understood. To be honest, he was one of the nicest, tactful and merciful people Erwin had ever met and also the only one who had the ability to masterfully hide that softer side of him.

Yet, as the clues dropped bit by bit Erwin realized that recently he wasn’t that good at hiding it.

He was coming back from the kitchen having refilled his cup with fresh coffee just yet when he saw Levi sitting at his desk, his back facing him. Erwin’s desk was the one in front of Levi’s, just behind the divide that separated them. He took a sip from his coffee; the hot liquid burned his tongue, and the stream brushed his cheeks. And just as he lowered the cup and gulped down the coffee in his mouth, realizing that it wasn’t actually that fresh, he saw it.

The faint, barely visible, ghost of a smile on Levi’s lips while looking at something on his phone.

Erwin blinked a couple of times to make sure that it wasn’t the fog of the coffee that was playing with his vision. Then focused on his friend’s face to get a better look at it. It wasn’t like Levi never smiled, he did. Occasionally. But they were generally mocking, or amused, or belittling, and very rarely sneaky smiles. Not like this one which was curling the tips of his mouth upwards in an almost… oh, I’ll be damned, Erwin thought but it was clear as day, it was in an almost affectionate way.

As if noticing his shocked gaze, Levi locked his phone and just like that the tiny smile was gone, replaced by the regular scowl and blank stare. Hence, closing his mouth Erwin walked closer and sat down on his desk. Then placing his cup on top of the desk he looked at Mike, who was sitting next to him and was furiously typing on his keyboard. Yet, when he did notice his stare, he threw Erwin a questioning look along with a raised brow. But Erwin simply shook his head and got his attention back to his work.

Not yet.

*

The third and final sign which managed to persuade Erwin at the end was the phone call.

He was about to take a smoke break on the terrace when he saw Levi talking on his phone. Erwin wasn’t the type to listen to people’s conversations. He had very strict moral rules about the whole respect the privacy issues. But he was extremely bored and getting a little impatient about learning exactly what was going on with Levi—surely a simple way like directly asking him would solve his problem but he would very likely gain nothing with that. If Levi had wanted, he would have told him months ago.

So, he accidentally happened to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Use the shower too,” he was saying when Erwin stood behind him near enough to hear but far enough not to be noticed. “I don’t want you to get my furniture dirty.”

He couldn’t hear what the person on the other end of the line was saying. He eyed Levi who was drawing a breath from his cigarette at the moment and put one between his lips as he watched cautiously. Levi then blew out the smoke and pinched his nose, seemingly irritated. “No,” he said. “No, dumbass. How many times do I have to tell you? Put the whites and blacks separately. Or best, don’t even touch the laundry. You’ll mess up my shirts.”

He tapped the end of his cigarette with his index finger causing the ashes to fly away with the wind. He listened to what they were saying for a while, drawing one or two breaths from the smoke he placed on his mouth. And when he turned his head a little to the side, Erwin saw that tiny, barely visible smile on his lips again. “Do it if you think you can. Just don’t burn my kitchen.”

Miracle. Had someone cast a spell upon him? He was offering his shower, his kitchen and almost his laundry to someone who was clearly not an expert on any of these things.

“Alright,” he said pressing the butt of the cigarette on the metal trash bin near him. “Will you stay the night?”

Erwin felt his brows shot upwards upon his question and he watched with even more shock the blush, the knots of red appearing on his cheeks. Blush! Had he accidentally stepped into an alternate reality?

“Dumbass,” he said once more, and Erwin caught it in his tone this time. Affection. “Stay. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Only when Levi left the terrace without even a glance at Erwin and the trace of the smile still more or less evident on his lips, Erwin realized that he had forgotten to light up his cigarette.

Erwin didn’t really like gossip. He usually saw it as a waste of time, and he was too busy to involve in such dialogues anyway. So, he made sure to stay clear from the drama as much as he could.

But this time it was different.

He blamed it on the brain-numbing, boring texts that he had to redact and edit, and do the same each day to the texts which so very rarely changed in context. Boredom, he declared, was the perpetrator of his actions.

“Mike,” he whispered during the lunch break. Levi had left alone, saying that he had other things to do. “Hey.”

“What?” Mike asked, not taking his eyes away from the screen of his phone, locked on the game he was playing.

“I think,” Erwin started, checking his surroundings to make sure no one was near them. “I think Levi is seeing someone.”

Mike’s fingers on the screen froze and his eyes slowly travelled from his phone to Erwin. It lasted merely a couple of seconds for him to snatch the air pod from his ear, pause the game and move his chair closer to him. “Tell me more.”

And so, Erwin did. He told him about the lent umbrella, the affectionate smile, the little hints he picked up and finally the phone call he had just witnessed. Mike listened to him, humming and caressing his beard with his hand thoughtfully.

“What do you think?” Erwin asked, wondering if Mike had taken the same impressions as him or it was just Erwin who was actually reading too much into things because of the boring office life he had.

Mike hummed again, bending his lips down and squinting. “You said you saw him smiling affectionately?”

“Yes.”

“Was it creepy?”

“Well, no. Not really.”

“That should mean something, man,” Mike said. “Maybe he brought a cat?”

“He cannot possibly talk to a cat on the phone, Mike” Erwin pointed out. “And lend it his umbrella.”

Mike nodded, agreeing. Erwin rolled his eyes. It wasn’t his fault that he had no one else to gossip about Levi. “Who could they be then?” He asked. “Do you think we know them?”

Erwin shook his head. He couldn’t think of anyone Levi would be interested in. He never properly talked to the people in the office in the first place. “I don’t know.”

“We should find out,” Mike sounded excited as he said so and Erwin relaxed upon realizing that obviously, his interpretations were not that far-fetched.

“How?” To be frank, he too was very curious about the identity of the person who somehow managed to bring the softer side of Levi out in the daylight. Then, putting his more rational part into action, he said, “We can just ask him though.”

“But where’s the fun in that, Erwin?” Mike laid his head backwards and threw him a very disappointed stare. “We need some action and some movement here. I’m selling my soul to this computer every day in exchange for very little money. Also,” he raised a finger, eyes illuminating playfully. “Man, what if he is in love? Hilarious.”

“He is not a robot, you know,” Erwin said, feeling the need to defend his friend.

Mike shrugged and leaned back, turning himself left and right on his seat, lost in thought. “A wedding would do,” he murmured to himself then snapped his fingers. “Nile!”

“What about him?”

“He is getting married this weekend?” He raised his brows at Erwin like he couldn’t believe how he forgot the fact that their old friend was getting married to his very first love.

“Yeah,” Erwin nodded, stopping himself from wrinkling his face as if he tasted something sour in his mouth. “Right.”

Mike put his elbow on his desk and rested his chin on his palm, watching him. “You plan on coming?”

“Sure.” Marie was a rusty and old memory he had left in the past which he would cherish for the rest of his life. But no matter the history he was happy for them both.

“If Levi comes, he might bring the mysterious significant other too, don’t you think?”

Erwin hummed, not a bad idea. “Yeah, actually.”

Mike grinned and stretched his long arms above his head. “Let’s wait and see.”

*

Levi came to the wedding alone.

Mike and Erwin silently exchanged glances between each other throughout the ceremony but didn’t dare to talk about it out loud. Levi was most of the time busy with his phone, typing. And when he wasn’t they chatted among themselves about work, finance, politics and sports but it never came to anything about the significant others which the two men obviously didn’t have.

Towards the end of the night, after bidding their farewell and congrats to the happy couple Mike offered to go to a bar to have a couple of drinks. Erwin accepted as he had nothing better to do anyway other than maybe starting The Office all over again. He seriously needed something that wouldn’t make him remember his work.

To their surprise, Levi accepted the offer too. And an even bigger surprise came after when the three of them got into Mike’s car to get to the place he had been nagging them about. “A friend of mine might join us later,” he said. “Would that be a problem?”

A quick, excited and wide-eyed exchange of looks with Mike later, Erwin replied, “Why would it be a problem?” He smiled at Levi who was sitting in the back seat.

“It would be great!” Mike exclaimed, and Erwin glared at him, warning. “Do we know them?”

“No, you don’t,” Levi replied curtly. And that was the end of the conversation.

The place Mike took them was freshly opened, clean and not so crowded. They settled on a seat near the window, ordering their drinks. Erwin could tell from the way Levi traced his eyes around the bright floors, polished marbles, and the altering lights that he had liked it.

“So, who is that friend of yours?” Mike asked, his eyes following Levi like a lion slowly getting closer to its prey.

“You’ll find out when she comes here,” came the brief and clear reply. Levi’s eyes were sharp as if indicating that he wouldn’t fall for any of his wordplays.

“You’re no fun,” Mike muttered with dismay as he raised his glass to his lips.

“Ask me if I care.”

“Do you?” Mike asked with an annoying smirk.

“Fuck off.”

“Sorry, I’m late!” A loud, cheerful voice interrupted their bickering. Then a slender, brown-haired woman sat down next to Levi. There was a smile blindingly wide on her lips, oval-shaped frameless glasses were a little slipped down on her nose, and the eyes behind the lenses were a light shade of brown, almost hazel. Her hair was sloppily tied, and the strands that covered her face looked smooth.

And under the curious gazes of the two men, she leaned forward to leave a peck on Levi’s cheek.

Levi coughed and flushed, then tried to hide it behind his glass, taking a long sip from his drink. “This is Hanji,” he said after putting the glass down on the table, but he had failed at wiping the redness away from his cheeks. “Hanji, this is Erwin and Mike. My co-workers.”

“Hanji Zoe,” she beamed at them as she extended her hand to shake their hands. “Levi told me a lot about you.”

“Oh?” Erwin couldn’t help but be somewhat taken aback.

“Well, on the contrary,” Mike spoke up, voicing Erwin’s confusion. “He never told us about you.”

Hanji glanced at Levi who raised a brow at them. “You never asked.”

Wait. Was it really that simple? Seriously? After all the detective work he had done and the passion he had put into it. “You would’ve told us?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s kind of new anyway,” Hanji said, wrapping an arm around Levi’s shoulders. Erwin noticed the slope of Levi’s body against Hanji’s as if he were gravitating towards her. “We’re still trying to get used to it.”

The body language told a lot, Erwin observed. “Seems like you already have,” he blurted and when he realized what he had said the words were already out and heard.

Thankfully, Hanji didn’t seem to have found his statement absurd. “Oh, you think so?” she giggled, and her cheeks coloured as she directed her eyes at Levi. And she hummed softly when their gazes locked. “Maybe.”

Her lips remained curled upwards on the corners, and Erwin couldn’t see the expression in both of their eyes and neither of them spoke, but he felt like words wouldn’t suffice for whatever had been exchanged between them in those short seconds. He watched as Levi’s lips tremble and move, shaping a smile that was so small and so barely apparent. Then he contemplated about how easy it was actually to see happiness in someone who very rarely let his emotions surface. Like dandelions emerging on their own through the mere lawn, right next to the concrete pavements.

“I kind of think it’s creepy though,” Mike whispered, leaning against him.

Erwin snorted amused and finished his drink.

[writingblackpink]

Coincidence (pt. 1)

genre: fluff (?)

word count: 3.6k

pairing: rosé x reader

Wherein your friend drags you out to dinner and you meet a familiar face....but is that all she is?

A/N: Hi :) Here’s another Rosé x reader I’ve had in the reserves for a while! A part 2 is in the works, but if you have any suggestions or ideas, drop them in my ask! Enjoy! 

-

You don’t even know why you’re here. You really, like REALLY, wanted to stay home and call it an early night after the week you’ve had. Your boss seemed to only speak to you to tell you you’d done something wrong, a pipe burst in you and your friend’s apartment causing the both of you to rearrange the furniture once (and then back again four days later once the landlord was able to get someone to fix it.), and to top it all off, you spilled coffee down your white blouse on the way in to work today and didn’t have time to go home to change so you sat in a coffee stained shirt in four meetings enduring your colleagues’ judgmental eyes while you tried to make light of the situation by making fun of yourself for spilling the coffee in the first place. It didn’t help at all - if anything, it just made your coworkers think you were even more strange than they already thought you were. Curse your caffeine addiction. Honestly, you probably need a new job, but that’s an issue for another day. Right now, you just want to be wrapped in a blanket in your cozy bed, blocking out the outside world and getting a good night’s rest but it just seems like nothing can go your way this week.

So, you’re here, in the passenger seat of your best friend’s car, face pressed against the window as you stare up at the city lights. You actually think it’s kind of beautiful, the neon on the signs above you mixed with the light mist on the window causing the color to soften and blur just a bit. The sounds of the bustling city muffled by the alt radio station your friend likes to listen to and the sound of the car driving through the rain kissed streets. It kind of looks like the tumblr moodboards you always see while scrolling your dash late at night. If you were creatively inclined at all you’d probably take out your phone for a picture to post to your small Instagram following, but then you remember that you don’t even want to be here so you’d rather wallow and pout for a bit longer.

“You look like a sad puppy with your face squished against the window like that,” your friend whines out. You peel your face away from the window and turn towards her, not missing the pout across her lips.

“I told you I don’t even want to go out.” You mumble back.

Your friend always has a way of making you do things you’d rather not. And it’s really not like you hate doing them. You do like her company after all and don’t mind spending time together regardless if you’re doing something you personally enjoy or not. Nine times out of ten, you actually enjoy doing whatever she drags you out to do, but you’d never say that out loud. At least not right now.

Tonight was different. She had mentioned that one of her coworkers that she has the tiniest crush on invited her to dinner except it’s not a date because her coworker was bringing a friend and she was bringing you. You tried to convince her to just go herself and tell her coworker she wants it to be a date, but that was more so because you REALLY did not want to go and not because you wanted or cared to see your friend happy. You did care for her happiness, just not in this particular moment. She caught on to the act pretty quickly and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Just like every other time, you caved.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she said, looking at you with a wide smile and pleading eyes. “You always say you need to branch out and meet new people. This is a good opportunity to do so. I mean, you’ve had the same four friends forever. Expand your world!”

She did have a point. When you moved to the city together after college, she immediately met and made a handful of friends. Most of the friends you have currently are people you’ve met through her. It’s been over a year now and you still have yet to branch out. The more you thought about it, the more you were losing your resolve not to go.

“Alright, alright, I’ll go. You can stop pouting. But if this dinner is lame I’m SO calling myself an Uber and getting the hell out.”

You left it at that as she squealed and grabbed her keys, telling you that there were reservations soon and, oh, also that she’s only giving you ten minutes to get ready. You grumbled your way up to your room, cursing under your breath and immediately regretting agreeing to this mysterious dinner.

She pulls into a parking spot and cuts the engine on the car, abruptly stopping the soft sound of the radio and leaving you two in the silence with only the rhythmic tapping of rain drops sprinkling across the windshield. You get lost in the serenity of the moment before your friend rips you away.

“Hey, let’s go. We’re already like,” you follow her gaze to where she glances quickly at the time on her phone, “ten minutes late, thanks to you.” The last part muttered more softly and sarcastically than the rest.

You roll your eyes and go to unlatch the door, immediately letting the cool air slide into the car. It’s a brisk fall evening. Not too chilly, but the quiet mist falling from the sky mixed with the cool breeze makes you want to crawl back into the car and never come out. Goosebumps break out along your skin when the wind brushes against you. You really should’ve brought a jacket, you think. You round the car and your friend immediately links your arm with hers, happily swinging them back and forth.

“I’m so glad you decided to come out,” she says cheerfully, and put that way, you can’t deny that her happiness doesn’t also make you feel glad you decided to come out.

You step into the restaurant together, the change in temperature causing you to briefly shiver as you adjust to the warmth. It’s nothing too fancy, just a casual sushi place across town you’ve been to a few times. The place is modern and open, with tables scattered uniformly around the room. Definitely targeted to people your age. It’s moderately busy for a Friday night, but not too busy, which you appreciate. The last thing you wanted to do was spend the evening yelling at each other over the loud voices of strangers in a crowded restaurant. If you had to leave the house, you decided this was an okay place to be.

“How many in your party?” The server asks. You stay silent while your friend smiles politely and mentions that you’re actually meeting someone here, eyes already scanning the room. The server smiles and backs away, letting your friend search for whoever you’re both meeting.

“Ah, there they are!” She exclaims, her eyes lighting up as she pulls your hand and weaves in between tables to get to your destination. As you follow her gaze, your eyes land on a table with two women facing away from you, one blonde, one brunette. That must be them, you think to yourself.

As you get closer to the table, you hear a fit of laughter erupt from the blonde. The sound is familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. The sound was so warm and inviting, maybe that’s why it seems familiar you think to yourself as you both continue moving towards the table. Your friend rounds the square table and who you believe to be her coworker looks over with wide eyes realizing who’s finally arrived.

“I’m so sorry, we would’ve been here on time, but THIS one took her sweet time getting ready.” She uses her thumb to point in your direction and you immediately scoff, of course going to defend yourself.

“Excuse you, you literally told me ten minutes before we had to leave that we were even coming here, so sorry that—“

“Anyways,” she cuts you off “what’s important is that we made it...eventually. This is my best friend Y/N. Y/N this is Ashley, my coworker.” You immediately hold your hand out for a handshake, but she grabs your wrist and pulls you in for a tight hug. In your peripheral vision you see the blonde facing your direction, but she’s slightly out of focus so you can’t tell if she’s actually looking at you or just in your direction.

“Any friend of Joy is a friend of mine.” And you think that this girl is a little too friendly for your liking. Not that you didn’t like affectionate people, it’s just that, you didn’t like affectionate people tonight.

As you pull away you glance over to the blonde, eyeing you like a piece of meat, eyes lidded and a small smirk gracing her features. She’s really pretty, you think for a moment. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, each strand perfectly in its place. You take a moment to admire the shape of her eyes, almost almond-like, but accentuated by the light smokey makeup look she was going for. She’s just wearing a simple top and jeans, just like everyone else here, but there’s something about her that captivates you. There’s something in the familiarity of her laugh, the warmth of her eyes that makes you think––

Realization hits you. You definitely know this woman. How, you can’t remember, but she seems to see that spark light inside you as your eyes widen slightly in her direction, and she immediately reaches her hand out to shake from across the table.

“Hi. I’m Rosie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m so sorry, but have we met before?” You spew out, eyebrows furrowed and looking directly into her eyes before really thinking and she snaps back quickly in her soft voice with “Uh, no. I think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours.”

Smooth, you think sarcastically. You’re not really in the mood for cheesy one-liners and her lips ticking up in a closed-lip smile just makes it worse. She moves to shake your friend’s hand too and then her gaze lands back on you. She said she didn’t know you, that you two have never met, however the smirk and quick wink she gives you when the other two in your party divert their attention elsewhere tells you a different story. Sensing some weird tension, you feign a cough and divert your eyes to your chair, moving as everyone decides to take their seats.

As dinner progresses you make small talk with the group, just wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. No need to drag this out when your bed is waiting for you at home. Rosie keeps looking at you with admiration, and throughout the whole meal you’ve been wracking your brain to try and remember where you know this girl from. “Come on, Y/N, THINK.”

Just as you were about to decline on dessert and ask for the check, Ashley and Rosie ask for the dessert menu. The waiter brings over four menus and you sigh, giving in and scanning the items. The table has since gone silent in deliberation, and while you’re trying to decide on the cheesecake vs. the chocolate cake, you feel what you think is someone kicking you under the table. You brush it off as an accident and go back to scanning the menu. Except it happens again, and this time whoever is doing it lingers a little longer at your shin, and yeah, that’s a bare foot. You look up to find everyone else looking down, but you glare at Rosie sitting directly across from you just a moment longer. If only you can figure out where you know her from…

You brush it off a second time, not wanting to make a scene, but it happens a third time, and this time when you look up, you find dark eyes peeking at you suggestively over the menu and it suddenly feels like you’ve been hit by a truck. You’re starting to remember bits and pieces, but you can’t create a coherent memory.

A few weeks ago your friend had convinced you yet again to “let loose” and “have some fun” and go out with her and some other friends to some bar that had just opened. You may have gotten a little too loose, to the point where you can’t remember all the fun you actually had. You don’t even really like to drink all that much, you’re usually the designated driver, but there was something about this night that told you to throw all caution to the wind.

You remember getting into an Uber with your friends and heading to the bar. You remember having a few drinks. You remember meeting who you now know as Rosie at the bar, and then everything after that got fuzzier. You both spent some time whispering in each others’ ears in the darkest corner of the bar, drowning out the pounding of the music and the voices of strangers and their drunken dialogue, and you remember leaving with her and taking her to your apartment, but the next thing you remember is waking up in your own bed with a pounding headache and in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, water and pills at your bedside table and a post-it note left on your bedroom door with a “Had fun last night. Hope the hangover isn’t all that bad. Call me -xx”, followed by a phone number. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but you felt warm when you thought about the night before, so you added the number in your phone with the lip emoji next to it for no reason other than you wanted to remember the warm feeling that ignited when you thought of her.

Chugging the water and exiting your room late in the afternoon, Joy greeted you with a “So, you had fun last night, huh? I heard you bring someone home? I can’t believe it!” she teased you, “You are able to have a good time!”

You scoffed it off with a “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” rubbing your temples and trying to ignore the ringing in your ears and the blush rising in your cheeks. Your friend never pushed you more about it, and you were grateful for that. You didn’t really have much to tell her anyways.

You’re also not one to bring home pretty girls from bars, but, again, something about that night made you throw every inhibition you had out the window. Maybe it was Rosie herself (from what you can remember, you liked her), maybe it was the alcohol. You couldn’t know for sure and it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t something you regretted, but you also weren’t super proud of it.

You immediately feel heat rush to your face and you feel her foot move up your leg once again. Just as the waiter walks over to the table, you feel the heat in the tips of your ears and just know you won’t be able to make a viable excuse if anyone catches you blushing THIS aggressively. You shoot up out of your chair so suddenly that it draws the attention of everyone at the table, specifically noting how startled Rosie looks at you jolting away from her touch.

“Um, I’m, uh, going to go to the restroom. I’ll pass on dessert.” With that, you turn quickly on your heels and make a beeline for the restroom. As you make it halfway there, you faintly heard Rosie say that she’s going to make a pit stop as well and you hear her chair move as she rises to follow shortly after.

“Shit...shit, shit, shit,” you curse under your breath as you hurriedly make your way into a stall, trying to think of ways you can avoid this humiliation as much as possible. Your non-confrontational attitude causes anxiety to peak in your chest. That, combined with Rosie’s unpredictable actions tonight, has you feeling a bit light-headed. Your breathing shallows. As you’re pacing in the confined space, you hear the door open and close, but no movement. Is she….is she waiting for you?

You decide to take a deep breath and unlock the door, but you gasp when she immediately puts her hand on your shoulder and pushes you against the cool tile wall across from the stall. There’s no one besides you two in there, and you’re worried she can hear your heart basically beating out of your chest. Hell, YOU can hear your deafening heartbeat echoing in your ears.

She moves in like she’s going to kiss you and you immediately tense up. This was not what you were planning on happening when you agreed to dinner tonight. In retrospect, you really should’ve called the Uber as soon as your friend pulled into the parking lot.

You could feel Rosie’s breath on your lips and it was all too much for you. The way she was looking at you, eyes heavy and lidded and oh, so seductive - her scent, faint vanilla and lavender notes that wafted through your nostrils. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to push her away or pull her impossibly closer. You could feel yourself getting lost in everything that was just her and your eyes screwed shut as everything became too much.

You were surprised when she didn’t kiss you. Instead, you felt her lean towards your right side and bring her mouth so close to your ear it made you shiver. The arm that wasn’t on your shoulder moved to rest her palm flat on the wall next to your face. You opened your eyes, but you could no longer see her face. The hairs on the tip of your ear reach up to meet the warm breath fanning across it. You felt your breathing pick up the closer she got.

“Why didn’t you ever call me, baby? You have my number, right?” she whispers seductively, sending a tingle down your spine. It’s so silent, you almost didn’t hear her with how loud your heartbeat is thumping in your ears.

Just as you open your mouth to stumble out a reply, she takes your ear lobe between her teeth and gives it a playful bite. You let out an embarrassing whimper as she does so, feeling yourself immediately melt into her. As she’s pulling away, the door to the bathroom opens and Joy walks in, but stops in her tracks when she sees the two of you.

You both snap your heads toward the intruder. You’ll admit, you’re in a bit of a compromising position, and you can’t tell right now if it would’ve been better for a stranger or Joy to find you like this.

You clear your throat and fidget away from Rosie, straightening out your shirt and moving to the sink to wash your hands while clearing your throat again. Rosie walks past your friend in the mirror and out the door like nothing ever happened. After washing your hands, you also walk past your friend without saying a word, leaving her shocked in the bathroom.

You walk back to the table and find that Rosie has easily fallen back into conversation with Ashley, while you feel like there’s a permanent blush brushed across your features. You try to ignore that though, and join in the conversation just as Joy is making her way back to the table. She glares at you a moment, still confused, and even though you see her trying to get your attention, you ignore her and hope she just takes it as you being too immersed in the current conversation to notice.

The rest of the evening goes by smoothly. No suggestive touching or longing glances, but you’re now realizing that that was what made this dinner interesting, and realizing so made you sad to see them go.

Soon enough, you’re saying your goodbyes with hugs outside of the restaurant with promises to meet up again soon. Rosie gives you a lingering hug and whispers in your ear once again, out of sight and earshot from the others.

“I’m serious, Y/N, call me. I want to get to know you better.”

She pulls away and you nod, despite still not having made up your mind on whether or not you were actually going to call her. She didn’t need to know that right now. Your mind is a mess and you’re still trying to sort out exactly what happened that night. Even if you weren’t going to call her, it’s not like you’d tell her anyways. Your non-confrontational nature wouldn’t allow it.

You smile and part ways, making your way to the car, hoping your friend wouldn’t question what she saw, but deep down knowing she will. It’s stopped raining now, and all that’s left is the wet pavement reflecting the streetlights above you. You know the barrage of questions is coming, but you’re trying to savor this moment of calm before the storm.

You take a seat in the car and look over to your friend who’s already staring at you. It’s a bit of an ominous scene in the late evening, the only light coming from the minimal street lights outside your window. You stay silent. There’s no way you can really anticipate what’s going to come out of her mouth first. Your thoughts are cut short when she starts speaking into the silence.

“So, are you going to tell me what I saw in the restroom earlier, or am I going to have to pull it out of you?” she asked accusingly.

“Joy,” you responded sincerely, “can you keep a secret?”

[lostinfantasies38]

A collection of my Drarry WIPs. Just getting a feel to see if anyone is interested enough in them for me to keep writing them and maybe post them on AO3 at some point. Let me know what you think!

Tagging @kittimau @fandomn00blr @jellysharkbat @jennserr @river-of-asgard @sharkapologists and whoever else!

Alpha Harry - untitled

Shaking himself from his stupor, Harry trailed after them and sharpened his hearing to catch what the Malfoy patriarch was saying.

“You disappoint me, Draco,” Lucius grumbled as the pair fought against the flow of the weekend traffic.

“I’m sorry, Father,” he answered meekly. It wouldn’t do to rile up the man, especially in public. Best to grit his teeth and bear the tirade stoically in hopes it would temper his ire. But as they neared the junction where Diagon became Knockturn and Lucius shoved him roughly into an inconspicuous back alley, Draco knew his wish had been in vain.

The gilt-capped end of his cane dug mercilessly into his ribs as his father glared at him. He quickly reined in the fear coursing through him and focused on maintaining a neutral façade to minimize the sour notes of anxiety that would alert his father to his inner turmoil.

“You were supposed to be an Alpha and join the ranks to bring honour to our name in the eyes of our Lord. Instead, you are weak and useless. Good for absolutely nothing except bearing bastard whelps like a common whore,” he sneered.

Draco ducked his head and blinked back his tears. He knew his very traditional Alpha father believed Omegas were nothing more than broodmares, but to hear Lucius slander him for something outside of his control gutted him.

“I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t mean...I didn’t ask to be like this,” he said, grateful his voice remained steady since a show of weakness would only bring pain.

“That is not your only deficit. I very much doubt you’d have made a satisfactory Alpha, anyway,” Lucius spat. “You have no spine. I should have replaced you with a new heir when your frequent failings became apparent before you peaked. Now, I have to suffer the shame of everyone knowing what you are. After nine hundred years, the Malfoy name will end simply because you couldn't do what was expected of you.”

Choking down a sob, Draco bowed lower. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, awaiting the blow that would surely follow his father’s vitriol.

The snake-head whistled through the air and he tensed instinctively, but the blow never came as the comforting scent of woodsmoke, musk, and cinnamon washed over him. Lucius snarled in anger and Draco lifted his wide eyes to find Harry Potter shielding him behind a massive wandless protego, glaring defiantly at his father.

“You will not lay a finger on what is mine, Malfoy,” he growled dangerously.

Soulmate AU - It's Just My Skin

No, Harry Potter wasn’t his enemy, but the undeniable truth of who was was worse. Gasping through an anxiety attack, Draco sluggishly registered the rapidly plummeting temperature and the sputtering lamps as despair leached into his soul.

“Oh, fuck,” he croaked.

Ripping open the bathroom door, he dashed back to Potter’s compartment. Unceremoniously flinging open the cabin, he met the startled faces of the three Gryffindors and rolled his eyes.

“Well, don’t just sit there! We have to move! Dementors are boarding the train and I have a damn good idea who they’re after.”

“Shiiit,” Weasley said, scrambling away from the window as a hooded figure glided past, leaving ice crystals blooming in its wake.

“My sentiments exactly,” Draco snapped. “Come on. I’m not in the mood to be Kissed.” Harry grunted in confusion when Draco grabbed his wrist and dragged him out the door. “I swear, Fate has an ironic sense of humour pairing me up with you and your damned Muggle education. I’ll explain later, but for now, just follow my lead.”

Dementors couldn’t pass through corporeal objects, which meant they’d be protected if they reached the loo and locked themselves in. Wards alone wouldn’t be enough to bar the creatures from the lock-free train compartments, but with an enlargement spell on the bathroom, the four of them could safely hole inside until they reached Hogwarts or someone on the outside dealt with the dementors.

They didn’t get far, however, before a cloaked figure filled the opposite end of the corridor. A bone-deep weariness washed over them, sucking the life from their core and darkening their vision as it descended with a shriek. Draco reflexively squeezed Harry’s wrist, a welcome jolt of heat emanating from his name under his fingertips.

Two wands appeared on either side of him as Harry and Hermione cast a simultaneous shield, but Draco was familiar enough with his soulmate’s magic to recognize it wasn’t fully powered. This was how they died, then; their souls leeched by a dementor moments after confirming who complimented them. Glancing to his right, grey eyes met green in resignation. A million unspoken words passed between them until Harry’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and all the colour drained from his face.

Seraphim AU - untitled

The ominous ring of the ancient grandfather clock reverberated through the too-quiet hall outside his bed-chamber. Dread coiled in his gut as a cold sweat broke across his skin.

He was out of time and out of options.

No sooner had the twelfth peal sounded than Draco felt the tether linking him to his Chosen snap in place. His wings ripped through his shirt and a golden light cut through the unnatural shadows as he fell into a vision.

A boy sat huddled on the floor, crying softly and pleading for a swift end to his misery. Draco’s heart clenched when his magic registered the cuts and bruises along his body and his extreme level of dehydration and malnutrition. As though sensing his presence, the boy opened his eyes and stared directly at him. All of the breath in his lungs whooshed out of him the second Draco recognized the intense green gaze.

“Help me,” Harry begged.

Pressing a hand to his heart Draco disappeared without a sound, leaving the shadows to devour his room.

~~~

A figure materialized in the center of his room, winged and wreathed in a halo of gold. Though the back-light cast it’s face in shadow, further blurred by his lack of glasses and copious tears, the presence felt safe, bringing with it the smell of summer sun and fragrant incense—heady, yet comforting.

He smiled weakly when his sluggish mind recognized the creature’s purpose as his vision grayed along the edges. It would escort him to the other side and guarantee he found his family.

“Angel,” Harry croaked.

Draco caught him as he fainted and tucked him firmly against his chest as tears rolled down his cheeks and wet Harry’s unruly hair. Take us somewhere safe, he prayed as they disappeared without a trace.

A split second later, they reappeared in a hodge-podge living room, but it was warm and inviting, not a hint of dark magic tainting the space or the surrounding wards. Though their arrival was silent, the disturbance of the familial wards woke the occupants and within moments Draco found himself surrounded by a crowd of Weasleys. They ogled him with equal parts shock and awe at the sight of his wings filling the room and the waves of restless power radiating off his aura.

“Harry requires medical attention. He’s been beaten and starved and he’s severely dehydrated. He won’t last the night without aid.” Though he spoke barely above a whisper, his voice thrummed with a strange resonance.

[ulalumewitch]

this was originally inspired by the prompt “The Pet” by @capriprompts … part 3 finally address the prompt proper and my version of it. hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note: This story deals with disappointments during the adoption process as well as references to parental deaths during childhood. Some readers may find this triggering. I hope I handled it with the care and sensitivity it deserves.

This is part 3 (and final part). The links to Part 1 and Part 2 are below:

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658329277505421312/betty-part-1

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658355318446800896/betty-part-1

(not sure why they both read “part 1” but i swear the second one is part 2. one day i’ll figure all this out - lol)

word count: 2,590

themes: angst and fluff

hope you enjoy - i just love these two.

“Betty: Part 3”

Damen frowned as he sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. He looked passed the living room and to the balcony. Autumn finally broke through the summer heat, but despite the chilly temperatures, Laurent had remained outside on the balcony. For over an hour.

He’d been there when Damen got home at dinner. Laurent refused to eat, stated he wasn’t hungry, and turned away from him. Damen didn’t push him. After eight years together he knew which battles to pick, and he knew if he picked this one, he would lose.

His stomach fluttered with nerves. Damen wanted to speak to Laurent about what was coming before it got here. He tapped his phone screen again. No new messages. Dammit, Jokaste.

The woman was always late. While he hated lying to Laurent these past few days, he felt it necessary. He’d never lied to him before and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat. But he wanted this to be a surprise if only so that Laurent couldn’t argue himself out of it. This would be good for them. Damen was sure of it. Well ... mostly sure of it.

Damen opened up his text messages waiting for replies. The texts from the people he talked to most in his life waiting for responses he couldn’t muster himself to give at the moment.

Papa Theo - D. Kastor wants to host Thanksgiving this year. Don’t let him take over. You and Laurent are better hosts. I’m begging you. Do what you have to. If I have to eat salmon on crackers again instead of turkey because Jokaste thinks it’s en vogue or whatever her high snobby ass thinks, I’ll lose it. Thank you. Papa.

Auguste - Laurent keeps ignoring my calls. Everything okay?

Kastor - Bro, Knicks game next weekend?

Nik - Knicks game next weekend? Text Kas for info.

Nicaise - Tell Laurent to call Auguste before I kill them both.

Jokaste - I’ll text you once I’ve valeted with the package.

The text from Jokaste was from two hours ago. It was only a fifteen minute drive between their apartments. But Damen knew from experience if he pressured her she’d delay herself more.

But for the past few days Jokaste was oddly ... maternal. She’d listened without spewing unwanted advice and helped him find exactly what he wanted, pulling strings from a few of the charities she’d help fund over the years. He’d never been so happy she spent money and drank wine for a living.

His phone buzzed in his hand. Damen let out a shaking breath as the text from Jokaste finally came through: The eagle has landed. We’re on our way up.

Damen took a breath and replied back: Laurent is out on the balcony. Door is unlocked. If we’re still outside please wait in the office until I get you. He’s ... not himself right now.

Damen held his breath. It could go one of two ways with Jokaste. Either she would understand or she would say she was too busy and leave the surprise in the living room before walking out.

His phone buzzed: Ok

He let the breath he’d been holding out and resolutely walked around the breakfast bar and to the balcony. Damen opened the glass door and gritted his teeth against the blast of cold wind to his face. Laurent remained sitting in his chair, bundled up in a huge knit sweater, scarf, coat, and hat that left only his eyes visible. He didn’t move as Damen approached. Laurent didn’t even look at him.

Damen’s heart pounded in his chest. Did something else happen? Had he forgotten something important? He and Laurent never had a problem communicating until recently and it killed him. This had to end. And now.

“Laurent,” Damen said.

No movement. No glance of acknowledgement. Nothing.

The wind picked up and howled as if in warning from the gods themselves against the building. Damen grabbed a chair a swung it around directly in front of Laurent and then sat down. Two narrowed eyes of blue ice cut to Damen then.

“You’re blocking my view.”

“Laurent, I know this has been hard -“

“I’m not talking about this. Leave me alone.”

Damen took a breath. He was in a worse mood then he thought. Shit.

“Listen to me. Okay? Just listen.”

Laurent leaned back slightly and with a small flourish of his hand indicated for Damen to proceed before crossing his arms over his chest. Damen took a calming breath and looked away at the same view to steady himself.

“I don’t know how much you’re hurting, because I’m not you. But I’m hurting too. It’s difficult. It’s painful. It’s unfair, and ugly, and all of the things you hope to never experience,” Damen stated, “But we’ll get through this. We will have our family, Laurent. Yes, things are bleak right now but we can’t give up because somewhere out there is our son or daughter. Maybe they’re not born yet, maybe they are. But we don’t give up because that’s not what we do.

“We didn’t give up on each other. Hell, you spent your entire inheritance to start a firm with a man you weren’t even married to yet. You helped raise your younger brother when you were still technically a child yourself because the worst nightmare for children happened. You fought your way through school and internships all while spending hours volunteering with children’s programs when most of us in law school could barely keep up with the average demands. You are a fighter, Laurent. You can’t give up now. Please, don’t give up now.”

Laurent’s eyes flickered for a moment as he regarded Damen silently. He didn’t move a single muscle. He also didn’t respond.

Damen took in a shuddering breath, “I love you. I’m sorry life isn’t as we want it right now. I will keep fighting for it, but I need you with me.”

Laurent still looked at him with cool neutrality as he asked, “Where were you this week, Damianos?”

Damen’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh God ... Damen had known better than to lie to Laurent. But he did it anyway because he’d been giddy at the thought of the surprise now waiting for them in their apartment. Apparently Laurent’s foul mood had been exacerbated because of him. Goddammit this was not how he wanted this to go either.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Damen cleared his throat, “I’m sorry I lied to you. But if you come inside I’ll show you why. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Laurent huffed, “I’m not in the mood for surprises or apologies. Now, leave me alone.”

“No.”

Laurent’s nostrils flared as he shot up and gracefully moved around him to the door. Damen cursed under his breath as he went after Laurent. Before he could think he caught his arm as they entered the living room.

“Let go,” Laurent growled.

“I was with Jokaste,” Damen surged ahead, “I needed her connections to get something for you and me to expand our family in a different way until our child comes home.”

Laurent stilled. Damen immediately let go of his arm.

Laurent turned, his blue eyes glittering with fury, as he hissed, “What did you do?”

Damen ignored the churning in his stomach and called out, “Bring her out, Jokaste.”

From the other side of the apartment the sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed around them. Then, Jokaste came into view. Her gold hair pulled back, her makeup made her look more devastatingly beautiful than was natural. Her designer clothes understated but somehow still reeked of money - and in her arms she held a basket with pink padding. And within that, a small puppy yipped happily, wagging her tail.

Damen looked at his husband. Laurent’s mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide and staring. Damen took a step closer to him until they were nearly touching but not quite.

Damen murmured, “She’s a King Charles Beagle mix. Her owners were older and couldn’t care for her so they put her up for adoption. She’s twelve weeks old, spayed, up to date on vaccines, and mostly housebroken. Jokaste put word out to the charities for animal adoption she’s helped fundraise for over the years, and then one of her connections emailed her about this beauty. I’ve been meeting with Jokaste to spend time with the puppy and then more recently to finish paperwork on her, as well as visit dog training centers and to research their puppy programs.”

He stopped. Laurent still didn’t respond, though he’d since closed his mouth, his eyes on the puppy in the basket. The white and tan puppy yipped excitedly seeming only to have eyes for Laurent. Damen’s chest ached slightly ... it was like she knew.

“I wanted to talk to you about it earlier but you needed time alone,” Damen whispered, “I’m sorry. I wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise but not this much. Also, if you don’t want her I understand. Jokaste will keep her instead so she’ll have a good home. But ... but I thought it would be nice for us to have a pet to take care of, to start expanding our family this way until ... until we can get what we want. She’s part beagle, so I imagine she’ll utterly lose her mind with happiness on the farm. But again, Laurent, if it’s too much, Jokaste will take her home, no questions asked. It’s up to you.”

Laurent swallowed and Damen heard his throat click as he did so. His face unreadable as he took a step towards Jokaste and the puppy. As he walked towards her, Damen stayed in place, but didn’t suppress the smile as the puppy began to yip louder, and bounced on her front paws the closer Laurent got to her.

“She’s high energy,” Jokaste murmured, “But she does love to cuddle. I think she likes you.”

Laurent remained silent as he brought his fingers up to the puppy. She immediately began to lick them, her tail wagging at such a rate Damen wondered if it possible for the thing to fly off of her. Then, tentatively, Laurent stroked her head. The puppy stopped bouncing but remained with her eyes on Laurent, tail wagging, as he pet her. Damen’s gut lurched as he saw the slight tremor in Laurent’s hand every time he lifted it up to resume stroking her down her back.

Then Laurent picked her up and held her against his chest. The puppy reached up and licked his face. Laurent pursed his lips together but Damen swore a smile was there before he was assaulted with puppy kisses. He cradled her against him, her fur a stark contrast against the black coat he still wore.

When she settled Laurent looked at Damen. He felt Laurent’s stare go through him and straight into his soul.

“Her name is Betty Rue Vere-Akielon,” Laurent announced.

Damen grinned, “Your obsession with the Golden Girls prevails once again.”

Laurent looked at the puppy and whispered, “They are fierce and so are you.”

The puppy licked Laurent’s face happily in response yipping gleefully. Damen cut his eyes to Jokaste and she smiled softly at him.

“I’m going to go,” Jokaste stated, “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you,” Damen said.

She dipped her chin slightly in acknowledgement and left. Damen walked over to Laurent and sat next to him as he set Betty on the ground. The puppy ran over both of their legs as Laurent removed his scarf and jacket, discarding both on the floor behind them.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Damen whispered.

Laurent cut his eyes to him before focusing on the puppy again, and said, “Forgiven. I’m sorry I gave you the silent treatment.”

Damen huffed a laugh, “No you’re not.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Laurent’s lips and he said, “I missed having a dog. We had one when I was a little boy but she passed away just before our parents.”

Damen nodded and said, “They estimate she shouldn’t be more than twenty-five or thirty pounds. Both breeds are good with children. Training is a necessity. But, but I think she’ll fit in well.”

“She’s perfect,” Laurent cooed and picked her up again to hold her to his chest, and then looked at Damen, his smile finally wide and unrestrained, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Damen said, “I know this doesn’t fix anything, but I thought it would help.”

Laurent leaned closer to him and then pressed his lips softly to Damen’s. He closed his eyes and when Laurent went to retreat, grabbed the back of his head and kept their mouths firmly in place. Damen deepened the kiss, needing the contact, reveling in the taste of them together.

“I love you,” Damen whispered breathlessly, “I love you and I’m here for you. Through good times and bad.”

Laurent smiled softly, “I love you, too. Thank you for ... thank you.”

Damen slipped an arm around Laurent’s waist and pulled him closer. Laurent could talk circles around anyone. But when it came to expressing feelings, he still sometimes had difficulty. But Damen didn’t mind. Laurent loved Damen in ways that went well beyond the words, as it should be.

“Oops,” Laurent tittered, “Betty, darling, we must work on that bladder control. Come on, lets go for a little walk. Does she have a leash?”

Damen smiled, “Everything is stashed in the office, including a couple of different coats for her since it’s getting colder outside.”

Laurent snorted a little and stood up saying, “I’ll get her collar, leash, and coat on. You can clean up the mess.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Damen asked.

“Please tell me you bought her a collar and leash to distinguish her as the royalty she is and that it matches whatever clothing you got for her to wear,” Laurent called as he walked away from Damen without looking back or responding to his question.

Damen rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before stating, “No, because I knew you’d hate anything I bought anyway.”

Laurent’s snort echoed as he made his way down the hall.

Damen smiled even as he cleaned up the puppy’s accident as he heard Laurent’s murmurs to the puppy, “Don’t worry, Betty, daddy is going to get you the most expensive collar, leash, and puppy coats money can buy. Papa doesn’t understand the importance of these things. What do you think pink with diamonds? Yes, I think so too ... or maybe a gold collar to compliment your white and tan coloring? Yes ... we’ll try a few on ...”

The pain of the rejection began to ease slightly in Damen’s heart. He knew it would take more time and more than a puppy for it to heal completely. But his gamble paid off and he reveled in the warm relief that coursed through his veins.

He and Laurent had work to do, but the dark cloud of anguish seemed to lift from over their heads. And as Damen put on his coat and grabbed Laurent’s from off the floor, he smiled as he walked down the hall as Laurent’s lament echoed loudly from the office, “Oh my God, was this made for peasant puppies? Nylon? Really?”

But Damen didn’t mind. He’d endure any cutting remarks on his sense of puppy fashion if it meant his beloved had a respite from his pain. Things weren’t perfect, but it was still a damn good place to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End of this Little Story

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. They are one of the many ships I love to follow and write about. have a lovely day, morning, evening, night wherever you are! xo

[mageemoulton]

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[og-danny-dorito]

Hellboy Headcanons

it's MY blog and I get to choose the hyperfixation (also it’s yearning hours)

S F W :

- big man big man big man big man big man b

- i love big man v much, and let me tell u smthn it's not for no reason

- so, let's just get a few things straight, the dude is canonically 7 feet tall, meaning that he towers over pretty much anyone. on top of that's he's got horns, a tail, a big ass rock hand thing, and on top of it all a fiery temper. at this you may be asking yourself “danny, if the man hasn't like no redeemable qualities why do you like him so much?” unless you're here because you ALSO like him and know he has a lot of them. let me explain

- so let me start off with some simple facts; he LOVES cats. he loves cats so much so that he actually has a fuckton of them, as seen in the first and second movies (not the one directed by david harbor because i'm not even going to look in that general direction)

- in fact, he loves cats so much that he probably wants to go to a cat café. the issue is that his hulking figure would probably scare away any other patrons at the cafés, so sadly he can't go. as an alternative he just has a whole lot of cats. a lot of the time he'll find himself taking pity on the cats on the street and thus leaving out cans of tuna or cat food in places he might frequent

- he also has a pajama set with cats printed on them but NEVER tell him that it's cute or he may not make eye contact with you for a week

- ah, on that subject matter, he actually gets flustered pretty easily. the only issue is that it's not easy to tell when he does, and when he allows himself to feel like that. it's usually when he's sitting in his room and not really thinking about much of anything (aka: relaxed)

- you can tell by how his face somehow turns a slightly darker shade of red, and the frown and gruff grunt he gives as a response imply an almost evasive nature. he doesn't get how you can say something so innocent about him of all people, but regardless it makes him feel a little bit a somethin

- i know he LOOKS like he will crush your skull, but he's a huge softie. yeah, he comes back to the BPRD base looking like he just fought god bare handed and butt ass naked, but that doesn't mean he's a huge meanie. in FACT, if he really does like you that much he's probably going to treat you like the exact opposite of his stereotype

- he tends to be attracted to anyone who can make him laugh, which is pretty easy considering his biggest weakness is puns. yes, you read that correctly, puns

- catch this dude loosing his shit because you walked in to his room, saw his cats piled up on his torso to absorb his body heat, and said “Wow, looks like you've got a MEOWntain on you, Red.” seriously he won't be able to breathe for a good few seconds

- his laugh is pretty hearty and rumbles in his chest like a washing machine on spin cycle, ending with a dry heave. if you've cracked him up that much he will snort. tiny little piggy snort. and then deny it directly afterwards like a big baby

- he himself is a pretty funny dude, the only issue is that he's selectively funny. usually when he's relaxed and just chillin out he finds himself cracking more jokes than he normally would. making someone he likes laugh motivates him to make more jokes, especially if their laughter is contagious. seriously, he's weak against funny laughs he can't MAKE himself NOT laugh if you sound like a dying horse when you laugh

- he's also pretty affected by other people’s moods even though like 90% of the time he feels shitty. if you're in a good mood then he can't help but feel a little bit better. the positiivty is contagious and not even hellboy can resist it

- thus why he can't for the life of him resist any ounce of cuteness or innocence or impenetrable positivity. like, he just can't help but feel the immediate need to protect

- yeah he likes goth chicks (have you SEEN liz) but have you ever walked around with a literal ray of sunshine glued to your hip? cause big man can't handle the amount of joy it brings him to have someone so happy all the time next to him. it just,,, makes him weak

- that and he's a huge dummy for anyone who's smaller than average but also tends to be fiery and hotheaded like him

- like he doesn't even have a “type” appearance wise but catch him falling head over heels for a positive, firey, and outright goofy person to match his dry and dull attitude towards most things

- he tries to act like he's above it, but the man likes cute stuff. even when he gets caught red-handed petting a litter of kittens he'll just be like “what? never seen a demon before?” and continue with his activities

- if you do end up being his s/o you may very well be the person who has to take care of his wounds because he barely trusts anyone in the med bay to take care of him without trying to experiment or take weird samples without his knowing. that said, he really hates going to the doctor

- you'd be susprized how uncomfortable it makes him, really. so you're probably the one to actually make sure he doesn't fucking die

- it's rare he'll come from work unscathed. in fact, a good portion of the time there's a new scar to add to the count. when asked he'll play it off with some dry humor, barely addressing the fact that his muscles ache like hell and his joints are killing him. you'll have to pressure him into letting you take care of him, which results in a pout and grumbles of protest as he removes his shirt. if he has any injuries near his thighs he'll probably be really hesitant to let you take care of them until you've been with each other for like a month or so

- that and he lowkey would die of embarrassment if you were trying to tend to his thigh wounds and just saw how HUNG he is but i'm gonna save that content for possible NSFW headcanons in the future

- mans super gentle with his s/o, like SUPER gentle. he doesn't want to hurt them, honestly, and just leaving a small bruise from getting frisky or play fighting makes him feel like a fucking monster. in fact, it makes his self-esteem issues worse. he might not touch you for a while if you happen to get a particularly bad injury, on or off the field (implying that you work at the BPRD- if you don't he still feels like shit)

- which means that he probably would like some validation if he does start to feel like complete shit. his skin is thick from his experience over the years, but shit still happens and it always will. he's reminded every day that he doesn't deserve you just by seeing your visual differences. he knows he's a danger to you and the people around him, and it makes him want to avoid everyone. but some gentle words of affirmation and kisses all over make him feel 10x better. it isn't hard to get him out of a funk if he knows you love him too much to find disgust in him

- he doesn't seem very affectionate, but once he knows it's okay to touch up on his s/o like it's no tomorrow he will most definitely release all his touch-starved cravings and be attatched to you all the fucking time

- he's pretty much always holding your hand (although his hands are pretty big so he might just resort to having your and in his without linking fingers) or got his arm around you or, his favorite, having you sit in his lap. he tends to be pretty up close and personal with you if you're all about it

- the only real problems i can see with this are personal distaste or maybe the fact that he's a walking space heater. seriously, hellboy is quite literally hot as hell regardless of the environment, and turns his heater up crazy high. he thrives best in the heat and remains pretty much unaffected by all temperatures. he hates the cold because it makes the tips of his tail and ears cold, but that's pretty much all it does

- you could be in a freezer and the most discomfort he'll feel is that his ears are like a little 👌🏼 bit cold

- so yes, space heater, and it's great if you live in heat like he does. sleeping with him means you'll never get cold again, and since he takes up a lot of space in his bed it's very likely that you'll be sleeping on top of him or at least somewhat touching him. so win win for him, obviously

- he also likes to crank the heater up because it causes you to shed more clothes, probably leaving you in a tank top and shorts while a sheen of sweat forms on your skin and your hair sticks to your face. and if that ain't hot, he doesn't know what is (pun intended). he'll put it down if you ask him to though, begrudgingly. he just likes seeing you breathless is all- ow, don't punch his arm like that

- god forbid anyone look at you like that though. you're wearing something mildly revealing? hell no. there are some bad people out there with even worse intentions and he is not letting some asshole look at you like you're a piece of meat at a butcher's shop

- so obviously he's a bit jealous. well, he's actually a lot jealous, but he won't admit it. just like he won't admit that he was about to kill the guy that catcalled you while you were walking down the street. or that he glared down at the person chatting casually to you about your dress. or that he- you get the picture. he's very protective of you and wants everyone else to know, although it may be because of an inherent self-doubt that says you might leave him

- maybe one day you'll see that you've been dating a demon all this time and be horrified and scared of him, leaving him in the dust for good. it's probably best for you, he thinks, but you'd never do that...right?

- regardless, he's protective of you and thus gets jealous easily. one way to tell is that he tends to become somehow even more attached to you with the person in question nearby. if it gets bad enough he'll just scoop you up and leave, no questions asked. maybe for the sake of your pride and protecting your embarrassment he'll make up some excuse, but as soon as you can tell that he's following you around like a lost puppy it's clear to see that something is up

- if he's getting particularly annoyed though or just wants to tease you, he'll slide his tail up your leg and watch you squeak and jump until pretending he did nothing wrong. the only real way to one-up this is to pinch the head of his tail softly and watch him tense up and give you a look of betrayal because he's crazy sensitive there and gets super unscrewed if you mess with him like that

- of course, looking at him innocently and letting him go once he finally retaliates is always entertaining enough to do again. it may even become a competition between you two to see who looses it and gives out the quickest (spoiler: you're probably going to loose if your relationship is sexual- dude knows his way around the human body and WILL use it against you)

- but it's kind of cute how much he craves your attention, considering it seems he'll do anything to get you to stay by him most of the time. he hates being apart from you and hates knowing you could get hurt at the same time, so it's very likely that you'll have protection wherever you go (if you're in his line of work though he may consider making you his partner, but when he brings this up to Abe the fish man automatically is baffled that a person could bring this kind of reaction out of his stoic and dry-humored friend)

- now for my FAVORITE part; Miscellaneous Headcanons :

   he finds it hot as fuck when you wield weapons of any kind. like yeah you might be his soft precious angel and no one is allowed to touch you but him, but seeing you with a weapon of any sort makes him think about things he's guilty to even know to have though

  oh i forgot to add that he's probably pansexual but is more attracted to feminine body types. doesn't mean he won't fuck someone with a dick, but it does mean that he's a big dom and he likes tiny feminine figures so he's more well-rounded and comfortable with women

   calls you pet names all the time, including Doll, Kitten, Darlin, Sweet-cheeks, and maybe a shorter version of your name or a play at one of your defining traits (for instance, if your hair is red he might call you Little Red as a joke cause he's Big Red ahaha size joke funnyyyy). calling him a nickname in turn that isn't one of the usual like Sweetheart or Honey Bunches gets him blushing like he's got a fever. don't mention that to him though, or he'll get even more flustered (or do, your choice)

   tends to be super flirty with you for shits and giggles, but gets a little riled up if you hit him with an equally witty and flirtatious remark. a little bite never hurt anyone, and he enjoys it more than most

   he really likes spicy stuff, and is currently the champion of "The BPRD Fire-Eating Contest" which didn't involve actual fire from hell (opposed to popular belief) but rather various spicy foods from all over the place and even some from different realms. he won when he ate a concoction Abe made that involved multiple peppers that probably would kill a normal human if eaten all at once but just made Hellboy tear up a little bit and have a runny nose. anything else doesn't affect him at all, and thus why he puts insane amounts of hot sauce in food just to get a tiny sting from it

   his love language is physical contact

- and that's all! hellboy is an affectionate dude with a slew of insecurities. under those scars and rough exterior he can't help but feel his whole day brightened when he sees his s/o and/or best bud, regardless of his mood that day. as a goofball at heart and dad of a thousand cats, the guy is really just misunderstood. take a few minutes out of your day to get to know him over a beer or two and maybe you'll even get a new friend till the end of the line. once he likes you though, there's no way you're getting rid of this big teddy bear

[tallmantall]

#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth - #AirPollution Can Drive People To Kill Themselves

The cause seems to be brain inflammation provoked by tiny, airborne particles Polluted air is bad for your health. It increases the risk of strokes, #heartdisease and a list of respiratory illnesses. It is linked, as well, to low productivity at work and poor scores on academic tests. And #pollution may have a yet-more-sinister effect. It may also promote #suicide. Claudia Persico and David Marcotte of the #American University, in Washington, dc, examined #suicides throughout #America between 2003 and 2010. They looked for a link between these and aerial levels of fine particulate matter known as pm2.5 because its particles are less than 2.5 microns across. These can enter the bloodstream via the lungs. They hypothesised that poor air quality worsens people’s moods, which in turn increases the likelihood of someone experiencing #suicidalthoughts. #Suicide rates vary for many reasons, so the two researchers concentrated on correlating day-to-day changes in the number of #suicides in particular places with fluctuating #airpollution levels caused by alterations in wind direction. In Boston, for example, north-easterlies blowing into the city from industrial areas bring air carrying around five micrograms per cubic metre more pm2.5 than westerlies from upstate Massachusetts. The researchers worked out these wind-related pollution patterns for every county in #America, and matched them with daily #suicide statistics. Their analysis was published as a working paper by the National Bureau of Economic Research, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. It found that an increase of one microgram per cubic metre in pm2.5 in a given place was linked to an average rise in daily #suiciderates of just under 0.5%, and if that increased level was sustained for a month, hospital admissions connected with attempted #suicides rose by 50%. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleOrder your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife:From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com An inflammatory conclusion These results stood up even when controlled for temperature and cloud cover, which might feasibly affect mood and be related to wind direction. There was, however, geographical variation. Dr Persico and Dr Marcotte found that the impact of pollution on #suiciderates was greatest in poorer counties, in those with more unemployment, and in those with liberal gun-ownership laws, since access to a firearm presumably makes it easier for a potential #suicide to turn thought into deed. To test directly the idea that poor air quality worsens mood they took data from surveys about mood and #mental state and checked whether the answers were related to pollution levels in respondents’ home towns in the month leading up to the survey. They found that even a single additional day in a typical month during which pm2.5 levels were above 35 micrograms per cubic metre was associated with a small but consistent increase in how often people reported they felt depressed, had little pleasure in doing things or were tired and lacked energy. They also found an increase of around 1% in the number who had been told by a #doctor that they had #depression. Previous research has shown that pm2.5 pollution can cause an inflammatory response in organs, including the brain. Many researchers think inflammation disrupts normal operation of the brain’s reward pathways, which help regulate mood. Consistent with this, some trials have found that anti-inflammatory drugs improve mood in those with #depression. Other work, meanwhile, shows that such people have consistently higher concentrations than others of proteins called cytokines, released during inflammation, in their blood, and that #suicide victims, examined after death, have high levels of inflammatory cytokines in their brains. In #America, average pm2.5 levels in populated areas are around twice the #WorldHealthOrganization recommended maximum of five micrograms per cubic metre. A study published in 2021 suggests meeting that figure might save 100,000 lives a year. In this context the 770 #suicides which would, if Dr Persico and Dr Marcotte are correct, be avoided by this reduction are only a small extra saving. But #suicide is such a tragic end to life that it would be a particularly welcome one.  Read the full article

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober Day 23

(As before, you can find a link to the AO3 version of this and the rest of my Kinktober 2020 prompts on the ‘Masterlist’ section of the blog.)

The angel stuff in here is pretty just a headcanon for this particular piece and has no basis (that I’m aware of) in-game. I just thought it seemed like a fun idea for the stripping/striptease prompt. Also, this is probably hella cheesy, but it’ll do.

(Also I think this can be read totally gender neutral after going over it several times?)

Kinktober Day 23: Stripping (Simeon | Obey Me!)

You had been relaxing, still dressed in your RAD uniform, snuggled up to Simeon in your room - with a locked and well-cursed door to prevent any of the brothers from rudely barging in as they often did without knocking - when an idea came to you to torment your favorite angel. Simeon had explained early on that he wasn’t exactly allowed to have physical relations without permission from higher powers, or at least, not those of a carnal sort. You could kiss, cuddle, hug, and touch, so long as it was done chastely. Step past that line and you both might be punished. However, that limitation didn’t mean stop you from finding ways that didn’t involve directly touching to have dirty fun. Nor did it prevent you from teasing Simeon, much to his chagrin at times.

He brow sank, curiosity and caution glittering in his blue eyes. As much as it was a chore restraining himself when you felt ‘playful’, there was something very enticing about it as well. “Oh, I feel fine,” he answered hesitantly, watching from behind as you fiddled with the buttons of your overcoat.

Finishing with the row of buttons, you pulled open the jacket before loosely rolling your shoulders and shrugging the garment off. It hung around your shoulders, still secured by the belt around your midsection. Turning around casually, your coy smile fully evident, you reached up to the tie around your neck. With a sigh, you tugged out the knot and loosened your collar, letting your head loll back as if it were some great relief to get the thing off. With a flick of your wrist, you whipped off the tie, tossing it in one smooth motion at Simeon, who ducked as it flew past his head.

Fanning yourself half-heartedly with one hand and pulling the hem out from your belt, you fingered the buttons on your dress shirt, pausing once the last button was undone and letting the shirt flutter open. You glanced up from your task, purposefully locking eyes with the angel lying frozen on the bed. The look on his face was rapt, though his brows were arched and a dark flush dusted his cheeks. He made no move to look away, either content to stare or simply unable to pull his gaze away from your display.

His expression only drove you to continue. You knew from the past he wasn’t uncomfortable, at least not mentally. Simeon wasn’t someone afraid to express when something displeased him and his silence spoke leagues. The physical torment was just as much pain as it was a pleasure you had come to know, for both of you. It had become a fun little game, testing just how far you could push the boundaries without breaking them. 

Next, you needed to settle the business of the belt keeping your overcoat hanging off your frame. You nimbly slipped the strap of fabric from its buckle and leisurely pulled it undone. With nothing left holding it your body, the top layer of your uniform fell away, landing in a crinkled heap on the bedroom floor.

Simeon sat up straighter on the bed and you watched his eyes sweep over you. “Why do you tempt me like this?” He questioned, a thick, deep quality creeping into his otherwise calm and cheerful tone.

You feigned surprise, though it was hard to hide the knowing glint in your eyes. “I don’t know what you mean. It’s just really hot in here. It still is,” you mused, tapping the tip of your finger to your lip and lightly dragging it away.

Simeon sighed a little and shook his head, but returned eyeing you from his repose. Sometimes he wondered if he was a bit of a masochist for enjoying the torment he put you through. Or perhaps getting to appreciate the naked beauty of your body was just worth the ache. He knew it pained you in the same way as him, so at least he wasn’t alone in his sweet suffering.

You returned to the task at hand, moving onto your lower half. You hooked your thumbs underneath the waistband of the red-streaked slacks, giving a teasing wiggle of your hips that turned into a sway as you edged the material down. Dipping down to the floor until the fabric pooled around your ankles, you rose smoothly, kicking the pants off and aside. 

Left in your underwear, flushing just as deeply as Simeon, a sense of warmth rushed through you that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. In fact, the room itself felt a bit cold and for a moment you longed to abandon your mischief and crawl back to Simeon’s warm arms. You were determined to see your little show through to the end though - it just wouldn’t feel right not to.

Turning on your heel slowly, you faced away from Simeon, giving him a teasing view of your backside in your remaining article of clothing. You repeated the motion you had used when sliding off your pants, though you made special efforts to lean forward and show off your slowly more bare ass. Turning back to Simeon again, your smile was wide as it could be. You stood relaxed and casual for a time with little regard for your nudity. 

The time had come to put the final touch to the torment of your favorite Celestial Realm resident. The part most dangerous for you both had you lacked the willpower. Though you trusted yourself and Simeon to be able to control your desires. It hadn’t failed thus far and your resolve had only grown through practice. That didn’t mean your pulse didn’t race at the thrill of the risk.

“Much better,” you purred, heading back toward the bed.

You clambered as gracefully as possible back onto the sheets, stretching languidly out beside the angel. Beside you, Simeon made a half-sad, distressed noise, almost a whine. “One of these days you’re going to get me into trouble,” he muttered.

“We’ll be in trouble together at least then, won’t we?” You quipped, tucking your hands beneath your head.

Wordlessly, Simeon moved from his place, twisting his upper body and holding himself up on his palms on either side of you. You made sure to remain stock still, a little taken aback that he would move in closer, further testing your control. He dipped his head, avoiding your lips and planting light, chaste kisses on your cheeks, moving up to your forehead and the top of your head. You closed your eyes, enjoying the gentle pecks, the pounding of your heart relaxing a little.

[ssadropout]

Their Way

A/N- Royai wedding fluff! I didn’t know how to accessorize Riza’s dress. The idea for her jewelry (I wanted her to wear some) is from a forum on theknot.com. I don’t see her wearing a veil. 

The large parlor in the Fuhrer’s mansion had been made cozy with casual arrangements of wildflowers. The sun shone through the large bay windows, but the room temperature was comfortable. They had opted to use upholstered chairs from around the house- there were enough of them- instead of the usual folding or hard wooden chairs for such an event. For the most part, the guests sat chatting happily in anticipation of what was to come. It wasn’t a large gathering, and the good mood was contagious- unless one was not capable of a good mood.

General Armstrong growled and rattled her sword. “Where is that punk Mustang? I swear, if he hurts Hawkeye, I’ll rid him of his sword with my sword!”

“Oh, dear Sister, it’s still early. I’m certain he would never do such a thing. The love between them is strong and true.” Alex Louis could not hold back tears, and his sister scoffed. 

The general stared at the temporary platform at the front of the room. Grumman sat calmly but alone on the riser under a canopy of more wildflowers. He looked as if nothing were wrong. In fact, he had a huge smile on his face. 

“He’d better get up there soon, even if Hawkeye deserves so much better than him. I suppose she is allowed one fault. There’s no accounting for taste.” 

Her brother wrinkled his expressive brows. “I wonder why Fuhrer Grumman is waiting up there. If he is Captain Hawkeye’s grandfather, why isn’t he walking her down the aisle?” Olivier just growled again.

********

Riza stared at herself in the vanity mirror as Rebecca fussed with her hair. Riza rolled her eyes, because there really was nothing to fix about the elegant chignon, but she said nothing.

The wedding, while still small by most standards, was larger than she and Roy had originally wanted. They had figured on a ceremony at City Hall with the team, her grandfather, and Madame. However, when their engagement was announced, congratulations from some people slightly outside their inner circle made them rethink the plan. Dr. Marcoh had restored Roy’s sight and made so much possible for them. Dr. Knox had always been there when Roy had needed him. Gracia… how had they ever considered leaving her and Elysia out? And, Edward Elric had made it clear that he didn’t give a shit about Mustang, but he and his family would be there in case Riza came to her senses and wanted to escape. So, it became an actual wedding with Rebecca and Havoc as attendants. An arf  interrupted her thoughts, and she ruffled her ring bearer’s fur. Roy had immediately agreed to Hayate being involved in their big day.

Once she had decided to wear a dress, she lamented not having a wedding dress from her mother. Her mother and father had eloped, and there had been nothing to remember their wedding  by except an official piece of paper. It would be very different for Riza and Roy. Gracia was carrying on for Maes, and she had already snapped an album’s worth of photos. 

Riza stood to stretch. It was nearly time to get the show on the road. She twisted to observe herself from all angles. The champagne colored dress was plainish- no, simple, not plain. It had detail but was unfussy. It fell around her body perfectly. After their engagement, Roy had had a jeweler make a necklace and earrings from pearls and some crystals he had transmuted. The jewelry was another example of his instinct about her. He had known nothing about her dress, but the accessories were perfect. He had even known that she never wore bracelets. Her bouquet of wildflowers lay on the dresser. 

“I’m ready,” she said with a serene smile. “See if the boys are ready.”

********

Madame had gone to check on the groom’s progress, and she reported to Grumman, whispering several words in his ear. Grumman rolled his eyes, even though it was only five minutes past the intended start. He addressed the audience, which quieted quickly for the Fuhrer. With a grin, he announced, “I believe that this is the first time Riza Hawkeye has ever been late for anything! The ceremony should begin in the next few minutes.” He felt like the cat that had swallowed the canary. He’d secretly requested that Mustang be assigned to him immediately after Ishval and had been more than thrilled when his estranged granddaughter had joined the young officer. The old man had immediately decided that Mustang would be his grandson-in-law, but it had taken him much too long to accomplish this. Who would have thought that he’d be Fuhrer before that idiot couple married? 

********

 Roy was shaking. He hoped that his hands would steady enough that he could get the ring on her finger. He wasn’t really nervous. They had been together in one way or another for more than half of their lives, and they had loved each other, if imperfectly, for many years. This day was really a dream come true. He just wanted everything to be perfect for her, and he didn’t want to be an embarrassment. He tried to keep his hands away from his hair, which looked neat for once. Breda smoothed Roy’s dress uniform but said, “Lookin’ good!” Except for Havoc and Mustang, the men left for the parlor. 

There was a knock at the door. Rebecca peeked in and said, “It’s time.” Then she smiled and looked Roy directly in the eyes. “If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you.” Rebecca went back to the bride’s room. 

Havoc whispered, “I’m pretty sure she means it.” 

The two men walked into the hall, and the bride’s door opened. Roy’s hands stilled the moment that he saw her. She put her arm through his so that she could hold her bouquet. Hayate yipped around their ankles.

“You look so beautiful,” he softly declared. “You look just like yourself but moreso.” 

She wiped the tear that ran down his cheek. “Oh, Roy, are you beginning to cry already?” she laughed. She leaned into him, and he reciprocated.  

Hayate took his place at the head of the small procession. Jean and Rebecca linked arms behind the pup. Riza hadn’t really liked the idea of being given away. She had been living her own life and making her own decisions since she was nineteen. Grumman might have been a little hurt when they told him, but he had perked up when they asked him to officiate. Roy had long wanted Riza by his side instead of two steps behind. Already inseparable, they walked each other down the aisle like the true pair they already were.

[trassellynn]

SoC AU: The Haunting of Kree Manor - Chapter 2

Ao3 link here Plot: The Crows spend a week in a haunted house.  Undercut, the first part of the first tale.

INEJ. “The masked figure” Part 1 We arrived at Kree Manor on Friday, late in the morning. We moored the boats at the little dock on the Southern side of the island and, after walking through a thick grove, we finally arrived at a huge garden. There were no gates,n or walls, around the house. All we saw was a large labyrinth, made of hedges with small, dark green leafs, a quiet lake, a dry fountain and many, many statues. And the manor was... it was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.  It was so big it almost looked like a castle. The walls were old and dark, but still in good conditions, and its roofs had pointy, sharp shapes. And the windows... there were so many windows you had the impression to stand in front of a monster with thousands, dead eyes. “Well,” Kaz said, registering every details with his wary glance. “Old style, looks a bit creepy... but it has a lot of potential. Painting the outside walls with lighter colours will make it more appealing. Let's check the situation inside.” I exchanged a quick smile with Nina, who was holding Aenya in her arms. The little girl was playing with her mother's necklace and seemed not to mind the scary building in front of us. “Do you think we can take a bath in the lake?” Nina asked me. “The weather is quite hot, these days...” “I don't know...” “Yes, we can,” Wylan answered, fixing the bag on his shoulder. “The first and last time I met my uncle, he told me he was used to swim every evening in the lake, even in winter. It's definitely cleaner than the sea in the bays of Ketterdam...” “Well, I bet only Kaz's soul is dirtier than the bays of Ketterdam” Jesper giggled, making Matthias nod with enthusiasm. “Do you want to enter the house or are you going to lose your time standing there and saying idiocies?” Kaz echoed, giving us a severe look. Hiding an amused smile, we reached the door entrance but, when Wylan inserted the key into the lock, a growl caught our attention, making us turn around. Trassel had taken a few steps backwards, baring his teeth, his white, large body in a defensive position. Inga and Matthias immediately knelt next to him, caressing his fur. “Trass!” “Hey, mate, what is it? What's the problem?” “He seems to dislike the house...” Kuwei noticed. “Well, I'm sure he'll think differently, when we'll turn it into a luxurious hotel” Kaz replied. “Stop losing time, now.” We went swimming in the afternoon, after lunch. We had no idea how it was possible, but the water of the lake was so clean... I mean, not a single leaf or trace of dirt on the surface. It looked like someone was taking care of it everyday, but... it was absurd, since Wylan's uncle had died weeks before and we were the first ones to visit the house, after his death. Well... at least, it was what we believed... Jesper, Wylan and Kuwei were taking a swimming competition, Nina and Matthias were... well, sharing a moment together and Inga was playing with Aenya, pretending to give her some swimming lessons or placing her on Trassel's back. I dipped my feet in the water, enjoying the refreshing sensation on my skin, then, I turned my head, calling Kaz who was still standing on the shore. He was the only one who was still out of the water and his mind seemed to be far away from there. “Kaz?” His dark eyes met mine. “Go ahead without me,” he replied. “Maybe I'll join you later.” “The water is amazing!” I said, taking a few steps ahead and instinctively looking down. I didn't meet my reflection, on the surface. I didn't even met a face. A dark shape, something that looked like a hooded figure with a white mask was staring at me. The mask had an old design and... and a creepy smile, like an ugly, empty half-moon between the cheekbones. I blinked confusedly, taking a little step backwards and... and then I found myself staring at my own reflection. “Inej, are you okay?” I nodded, without turning my head, and, for a moment, my heart lost a beat when I heard Nina asking: “Hey, who's there?” I frantically tried to individuate the masked figure on the surface of the water, but I soon noticed my friend was staring at the opposite shore. “Who?” Jesper asked. “Where?” Nina pointed at something. One of her arms was still wrapped around Matthias' neck. “I saw a figure, behind that tree.” “It was wearing a mask?” I instinctively asked, the words came out of my mouth before I could even realized it. Nina shook her head: “A mask? No. But it was a woman, I'm almost sure.” “Do you want me to go to check?” Kaz asked. “I'm the only one still on the land...” The young woman hesitated for a while, then, she shook her head: “No, don't worry. I probably imagined it.” Part of me wanted to tell my friends about the vision I had a few moments before. Part of me wanted to tell Kaz yes, please, go to check, I don't feel safe. But... I don't know why, no sounds came out of my mouth. And once I completely immersed into the water, that weird feeling was washed away. At least... until that same night.... I chose an elegant, small room for the night. It was on the third floor and it directly communicated with Kaz's. There were a large, rectangular window, with a thick curtain; a tall, antique wardrobe that I struggled to open, the first time I tried, and... in front of the bed, on the opposite wall, there was a huge mirror. Well, actually there were three mirrors, the larger one was fixed in the middle, the other two were its wings and I could move them, so I could reflect my entire figure from different perspectives. I loved it. I spent several minutes, wearing my nightgown and braiding my hair, playing with the movable parts of the mirror. And when I went to bed, after wishing goodnight to my friends, I decided to let the reflective wings wide open. I fell asleep almost immediately but... I woke up a few hours later. It was almost the four o'clock in the morning. I tried to grab the glass of water on the bedside table, when a sudden thrill ran down my back. Before I could see it, I felt there was someone in my room. I immediately jumped out of the bed, the knife I had hidden under the pillow in my hand. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped, making me shiver, silver clouds of vapour came out of my mouth. For a moment, I told myself I was still sleeping and having a very weird dream. Nothing made sense, in that moment. And then... I instinctively looked at the mirror and, without realizing it, I approached it, my legs were moving at their own will. I have no idea how much time I spent in front of that mirror, staring at myself, my fingers clenching the knife. Suddenly, something moved in the shadow, behind me. Next to my bed, a tall, dark figure raised on their feet. My heart lost a beat: it was... them. The masked person. I see them clearly, through the mirror. I quickly turned around, raising my knife, ready to fight, but... but no one was there. Was it possible I had had a hallucination twice in a day? The air was cold, around me. My skin was filled with thousands, small chills. I turned to the mirror again, I wanted to close the movable wings to hide it. A scream from my mouth: the masked person was there, right behind me. Their hand caught my shoulder and I... I could feel it, I could feel the cruel grip. Sometimes... sometimes I still feel it. My knife fell on the floor and somehow I managed to get free, running to the door that communicate with Kaz's room and almost breaking through it, calling his name. In less than a moment, I was in his arms, he had probably woken up the first time I screamed. “Inej! Inej, what is it?” My throat was like an iced, desert land. Somehow, I managed to tell him there was someone in my room. Kaz let me go, he grabbed his cane and entered my room, his eyes were dark, furious, burning flames. I felt I had to go with him, to help him to find the intruder, but my limbs were frozen and everything I could do was waiting, crouched on the floor. “There's no one, here,” he finally said, coming back to his room and handing me my knife. “I... I hadn't imagined it!” I immediately cried. “There was someone, a tall, human figure, with a white mask... they touched my shoulder, I felt it! It was real, kaz, I know that!” “Hey, hey...” he whispered, kneeling in front of me, touching my skin for a brief moment. “You're... freezing...” “The temperature in my room suddenly dropped,” I sobbed. “I know it's absurd, these spring days have been hotter than usual, but, when I woke up... it was like being in winter, and...” “Do you want to sleep here, with me?” Shivering, I nodded. Kaz locked the door that separated our rooms, then, he helped me stand up, taking me to his bed. We laid down in the same position we sleep in, when we share a bed: back to back, so no one can catch us by surprise. And... contrary to my expectations, I slept well until morning. No masked people came to bother my dreams. For a couple of days, things seemed to go better. There was a lot to do, to check, to tidy in that house, we alternated work with enjoyable activities and this helped me a bit to keep the masked figure out of my mind for the most of the time. But I couldn't help but feel a thrill every time I entered my room. I kept the movable wings of the mirror closed, I was afraid to see again that person behind me, if I dared to look at my reflection again. For a moment, I almost tried to tell myself that, maybe, the masked person wasn't real, that my mind had simply played me a cruel trick. But I soon discovered I wasn't the only one who experienced something scary and weird, in that house. Wylan complained about objects that moved, disappeared and appeared in other places, Kuwei said he heard kids' steps and voices, Trassel was often in a bad mood... one by one, we all became wary and nervous and we tried to keep our minds busy as much as we could. On the third night, I woke up again. I was afraid to see the masked figure, but, somehow, I realised everything was quiet. The glass on my bedside table was empty. I didn't remember I had drunk all the water, but I didn't mind much about it and I went down to the kitchen, to fill it again. The kitchen was on the ground floor, on the west wing of the house. To reach it from the stairway, I had to walk down the ample entrance hall, then, there were two other smaller aisles, the second one directly led to the kitchen. When I arrived at the entrance hall, my attention was immediately caught by something, or better, someone who was lying on the ground, face up, with legs slightly apart and a hand rested on the stomach.   My eyes widened and, for a moment, I almost forgot how to breathe. “Nina!” I gasped, running to my friend and kneeling next to her. “Nina, what are you doing here? Nina, can you hear me?” I frantically checked if she was hurt, if she was still breathing... and I soon realized she actually seemed to be okay, to sleep quite peacefully. When I touched her cheek again, she finally opened her eyes, letting a little moan out of her mouth and blinking confusedly. “Inej?” she murmured. “What are you doing in my room?” “Oh... I... we're not in your room...” I replied. “We're on the ground floor, on the entrance hall... can you see the entrance door?” She slowly moved her head, focusing the environment all around us, then, she simply said: “Oh...” I tried to add something, when heavy footsteps announced someone was coming downstairs. Matthias' voice reached our ears. “Nina!” he called, trying to keep his voice low. “Nina, love?” “She's here!” I replied, whispering. His blue eyes widened and his face became pale, when he saw his wife laid on the floor. “Nina! Oh Djel, oh Djel, love, are you hurt? Are you...” “I'm fine...” she lazily murmured, while we where helping her to sit up. “Take me to bed.” “I found her here” I explained. “Maybe she has walked in her sleep...” “I think so...” Matthias sighed, giving a worried glance in the direction of the staircase. “She... she walked downstairs while sleeping... Djel...” He took her in his arms: “I'll take her back to bed... are you okay?” “Yes,” I showed him the glass. “I was just going to take some water.” “Okay. Thank you, Inej. Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” I stood up, trying to ignore the uneasy sensation that was growing in my chest, and I walked to the kitchen, silence surrounded me. I poured fresh water in the glass, I drank it, then I half-filled the glass again, walking back to my room. I was at the end of the second aisle, I had almost reached the entrance hall, when silence was broken by a whisper behind my back. My heart jumped into my throat, while I slowly turned around, knowing what I was going to see: the masked figure was there, a few metres from me. The glass fell from my hand, crashing on the floor. I tried to face the terrifying apparition, but I was trembling and my throat hurt. “Who... who are you?” I rasped. “What do you want?” The figure didn't answer. They simply pointed at me, with their long, crooked finger, then they started walking towards me, slowly. I picked some pieces of the glass, throwing them at the scary vision, then I fled. Something, in my mind, was telling me to be brave, to face them and fight them. I was Captain Inej Ghafa, I had never run away from an enemy. But... but that enemy wasn't like the others. That enemy wasn't... human. The figure followed me, upstairs. It walked slowly, but it was always behind me. When I reached the third floor, I directly entered Kaz's room, locking every door and sliding into his bed. He was awake. His back against mine was somehow reassuring. “I cannot sleep too,” he whispered. “I'm ready to give a proper welcome to every piece of shit who's haunting you.” I didn't reply. I was trembling, I felt cold. All I wanted to do was falling asleep until morning. And eventually... eventually it was what I did.