#name one immediate problem that could be contributing to that stress...i suppose i have work to do. but well thats not really urgent.

[steelycunt]

good morning all. today i find myself filled with a thousand tiny stresses like pebbles clattering around in my shoes. and yet! i unlace my shoes and take them off and find them empty. another cruel deception and by my own mind no doubt

[shoutoismybaby]

A Pink Promise (BakuXReader)

Summary: You had a tradition with bakugou. A tradition where every time you had to leave each other you would wrap your pinky’s together in a promise that you would see the other again. But one night after an argument you storm out of the apartment without your typical goodbye, and bakugou gets a call that makes him question if he will ever see you alive again

WARNING: Angst, but it ends in fluff. Cursing, injury, car accident, fighting, and crying

Hi. I’m just gonna leave this here😘

***

“I should probably head home,” You shifted from one foot to another, “my dad will get worried if I’m late…”

“Alright, bye loser.” You giggled at Bakugous response and held out your hand, pinky extended.

“So, you’ll pick me up at two?” You asked, pausing at the confused look on his face. “What?”

“What are you doing?” Bakugou asked, he was staring at your hand. You laughed once more and ignored his glare,

“Oh, it's for a pinky promise.” You explained,

“You need me to pinky promise that I’ll take you on a date tomorrow?” His brows only became more furrowed, Katsuki knew you were a little weird. The simplest things seemed to make you smile, but that's what he loved about you. He wondered if you seriously wanted him to pinky promise you that he would take you out, right after he just asked you to be his girlfriend. Yeah, he was an asshole. But not to that extent.

“No, um. It’s a promise that you’ll see me again.” You blushed, it was a habit you had picked up from your parents. They always used a pinky promise in place of a goodbye kiss. You were about to let your hand drop when looped his pinky with yours.

“Okay, I’ll be at your house at two. You better be ready.” He gave your finger a tight squeeze before letting it go. He then turned around and began walking away from you.

“I won't!” You promised, watching him walk away for a couple of seconds before you turned to head home.

From that day on, each time you went to say goodbye, a pinky promise accompanied it. Even Bakugou caught onto the habit quickly, despite the fact that his friends would often tease him for it. Yeah, he was whipped for you. He knew it. Your peers knew it. Even your uncle's dog knew it. But all that mattered to him was that you were happy. And you were for a while.

It was when you had graduated for UA and moved into an apartment together that problems started to arise. Katsuki got overly jealous of every person you got close to, and you were always exhausted after work. Hero's work was stressful on both of you, only contributing to the short temper your boyfriend seemed to have. Fights would happen over the smallest of things, such as chores not being done, or something being left out where it didn't belong.

Of course, you couldn't say that you were innocent, you did start a fair amount of fights. Eventually, though, it hit a point that you could barely handle it anymore. Even when you tried to calm him down, to just talk through things, it would always end in screams and slammed doors.

And soon enough, you hit your limit.

“God, don’t you ever shut up!?” You screamed, just having gotten home from work. Why were you already fighting with him? You hadn't even gotten the chance to take off your shoes. His face only seemed to get more contorted, matching the amount of anger he felt. Why was he always directing it at you? “I just got home from work, cant you give me a fucking break!”

“Maybe you’d get home earlier if you were any good at what you do!” He argued, of course, he would go on the offense.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You prayed that he would back down.

“I'm just saying that if you weren't such a shitty hero, maybe you would get home at a decent time and actually-” That was your breaking point.

“Just because you’ll never be good enough to be the number 1 hero, doesn't mean you can take it out on me!” You shut him up pretty fast. His face paled and eyes widened, but you could barely notice past the high you were on. “I’m sick and tired of coming home to someone who only wants to fight with me! Have you ever thought that maybe I take extra shifts to avoid seeing you?”

You were crying now, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were so mad. How could he tell you that he loved you and then tell you something like that?

Katsuki seemed frozen, you couldn't see the guilt flood his body. You couldn't hear the thoughts whirring in his head. You couldn't feel his regret. You could only feel anger.

You could only feel your heart ripping in two, the tears scratching their way to your eyes. Everything hurt. You felt like a gust of wind could cause your body to fall apart. Yet, at the same time, you felt numb. Maybe that was the anger. The desperation. The hurt. Maybe that was what was protecting your fragile self.

You had never felt so broken and vulnerable before.

“I hate you Bakugou!” He was supposed to be the one to protect you, love you, care for you. So why was he the one tearing you apart?

If it hadn't already, his heart stopped. You hadn't called him by his last name since you got together.

“(Y/n)-” His hand reached out to you. All he wanted to do right then was apologize to you, and hold you close until you forgave him. But you couldn't do that. Not again. Not then,

“Don't touch me!” Your voice sounded so broken as you held one of your wrists in your other hand. “Don't-” A shuddering breath made its way through your throat. You reached for your coat and began to pull it on.

“(Y/n), please don't. I'm sorry-”

“I don't want to see you again,” You closed your eyes tight and sighed, turning to the door. He didn't say anything else, so you left.

***

It was a couple of seconds before his arm returned to his side, and a couple of minutes more before he stopped standing there. Choosing to sit instead. He wasn’t sure why. Why he didn’t just move to the couch. Why some part of him was convinced that you would just walk back in, and let him apologize. Let him fix everything.

But he knew you wouldn't. Even more, he knew he didn’t deserve it.

It was an hour before he finally moved, and it was only to get to his ringing phone. All he could do at that moment was wish it was you.

Wish it was about you.

Oh, how he came to wish he could take back that wish.

“(y/n), I'm sorry-”

“Hello?” It wasn't your voice on the phone, Bakugou considered hanging up, but had a feeling that he shouldn't.

“Who is this?” He asked gruffly, he just wanted you back in his arms. He didn't care about anything else.

“My name is Haru, I work for the Musutafu hospital. Your number is on the emergency contact list of (Y/n) (L/n). Could you come down to the hospital? It's urgent.”

Bakugou didn't think that his heart would break anymore that night. But here he was, tearing up on the phone. Begging and screaming at the poor nurse to tell him what was going on, knowing full well she couldn't. Stupid patient confidentiality.

He had never pulled on his shoes and coat faster, not taking the time to realise his shoes did not match. He knew it was illegal to use his quirk at the moment, but he didn’t care. He launched himself into the air and towards the hospital, only slowing down in order to land painfully in front of the doors. But he didn't care about how he felt. Nor did he care about the immediate attention that was placed on him from everyone around.

“Is that Ground Zero?”

“I’ve never seen him without his hero suit on before”

“Look at him. He looks like a mess.”

“Is he okay?”

The hospital was busy when he walked inside, covered in sweat from both the bodily exertion and anxiety. His heart was racing and the only thing keeping him from fainting was the fact that he needed to see you. How had you already ended up in the hospital? You had only just left his house-

But the clock on the wall corrected him, it had been a few hours. His stomach churned as he walked up to the receptionist's desk,

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He growled out, beginning to get restless. Now that some people knew who he was, the paparazzi was sure to show up. And that was the last thing either of you needed.

“Name, ID, Relationship to the patient?” The woman's calm demeanor was in direct contrast to the storm brewing in Bakugou.

“Bakugou Katsuki, I’m (Y/n) (L/n)’s boyfriend.” He said as he dug out his wallet, suddenly remembering something you had told him once when you had to visit him in the hospital after a villain encounter went sideways. “But we’ve lived together for over three years, we have a common law marriage.”

He knew that this was the only way he was going to be able to see you, but it wasn’t like he was lying. The receptionist squinted at him before taking his ID and looking it over.

“Alright, if you can state the name of the patient you are visiting for me again I can get you the guest pass and their room number.”

***

Your door slammed open, and you strained your eyes trying to see. The brace around your neck stops you from properly looking over. It didn’t take long to realise who it was when you heard the strangled whine. You recognized it as Katsuki right away. How could you not?

You had been with him for years, through the ups, the downs, and the very far downs that were the past year. You had held him tightly when those noises had escaped him in the past and you shielded him from the world when he was no longer able to keep up his facade.

You could only imagine how broken he looked now, you just wanted to hold him again and protect him from everything.

Until you remembered your last conversation, but then you just felt conflicted. You were mad at him. You were so angry.

But you were scared, so scared.

After all your years as a pro hero, and it was a truck that fucked you up the most. Each breath was painful, and maybe if your mind wasn’t so cloudy on pain meds, you would be able to remember how many ribs the doctor told you were broken, or which leg. Or if you were going to live. God, were you scared.

Footsteps brought you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes to the man who stood in front of you. He looked like a boy now, so broken and collapsed in on himself.

“(Y/n),” sounded broken.

His brows were furrowed, mouth deep set in a scowl. But you knew better. You saw the tears stains on his cheeks. The redness of his eyes. His coat was inside out. You knew his face was one of worry. Fear.

You remembered the first time you saw him look like that. The first time he opened himself up to be so vulnerable to you. It was sometime after All Might had fallen, and the guilt had been eating him up. Not many other people noticed the way his thoughts were eating him up inside. But you did.

You saw the light in his eyes dim. The dark bags began to form and the way his posture fell. His confidence was falling no matter how much he screamed to keep up his image.

“K-kat-suk-i” You struggled to speak, your voice raspy. Like you hadn’t drank anything in years. Tears bubbled in his eyes, and, somehow that was more painful than when you first woke up. In the middle of the street, there had been a young woman kneeling over you, screaming into her phone. You couldn't hear her though, only the ringing in your ear.

You couldn't remember right before you got hit, it was fuzzy. Though the doctor told you it was normal. You wondered if maybe you were just running without looking. Or if tears clouded your vision. Or maybe, if it hadn't been your fault at all.

“Shit,” The love of your life began to scrub his face with his fists, much like he did the night you found him in the dorms kitchen. Crying over a late night snack as his fists clenched the edge of the counter, struggling to hold himself together.

No matter how much he tried to cover his face after you made your presence known, you could see the tears as they fell to the floor. You could hear his strangled whimpers. And even though you knew the possible consequences, you held his shaking body in your arms. You let him be vulnerable and didn’t say a word.

It was that day that you began to see Bakugou as he truly was. An Asshole? Yes, of course. But also a boy who cared way too much, who held himself to impossible standards, and who never really had a proper support system. You decided to be his support that day, and soon after you became his girlfriend too.

“They, they told me what happened to you,” you watched as little pops of frustration came out of his fists. “And I couldn't help but think that it’s my fault.”

“No,” you wanted to protest, but you instead had your breath hitched in your throat. The desire of water coming to be the very forefront of your thoughts as you reached out your hands, desperate for the hydration that would let you continue. Bakugou, of course noticed and his crimson eyes quickly spotte the glass of water on your nightstand. Once the cool glass brushed against your fingers, you brought it to your lips and drank as if you hadn’t seen a liquid in days.

“Just, listen okay? I… Ive been taking out my work stress on you, I’ve been rude and condesending and just fucking nit picky. You didn’t deserve any of that, especially what I said earlier. It was fucking uncalled for and so far from the truth.” The determination in his gaze was evident, it was the same gleam in his eyes he got whenever he set his mind to something. You adored that look from him.

“I know Katsuki, I know you don’t really think that.” You muttered, unsure of what to say. Were you just supposed to forgive his, what seemed to be, apology? You had no idea how you felt. Your head hurt along with the rest of your body and your throat was still parched despite downing your water seconds ago.

“It doesnt matter, you need to know what I do think. I think youre an incredibly strong woman. And a fucking resilient, relentless one at that. Can’t get you off my shit for two seconds. But I love that about you, you know? I know I’ve been a dick recently but I really do love you. I asmire you too, your work ethic. You never give up and thats what makes you one of the best heroes out there, fuck what the polls say.” He sniffled and quickly ran a closed fist under his nose. “You dont deserve what I’ve been putting you through lately… and I’m fucking sorry. You’re the most important person in my life and you deserve better than the asshole you’ve been getting.”

“You’ve always been an asshole.” You used your glass to hide the smirk on your face that only grew bigger as bakugou couldn't help himself from blowing up.

“I- are you kidding!? I’m trying to fucking apologize here and THATS what you choose to say!?” The pops of his quirk created a melody with the raspy laughs that left your mouth.

“Yeah,” your chuckling continued as bakugou's face softened. Eyes like cooling embers as they dusted across your figure. You tried to ignore that look, it always made your chest swell uncomfortably. Nothing could make you tear up more than the love bakugou had for you.

“Shitty woman,” he sat himself down in the chair besides your bed and took the now empty glass from your hands, “I just want you to know that when- if, you come home… that things are going to be better. I don't ever want to make you feel like you have to avoid me ever again. I want you to feel safe around me. And I swear that I’m going to put you above my hero work from now on-“

“No, Katsuki, I’m sorry I said that. I shouldn’t have said that you can't become the number one hero, it's not true.” You shook your head, the shame being too painful to look anywhere but your hands. Balled in fists on your lap before they were gently tugged into his own. You reluctantly met his eyes, admiring the fire that burned in them.

“This has nothing to fucking do with that, okay? I’m not giving up on being the number one, I’m just going to start working harder to be better for you at the same time. And anyone who thinks I can’t do it is a dumb bitch.”

“God can your ego get Any bigger?” A smile stretched across your face as you began laughing again when he simply shrugged. It hurt like a bitch, the sharp pain making your eyes water, but you just loved everything about the angry man in front of you. Even when he began yelling at you to stop laughing before you hurt yourself even more. It took awhile for you to calm down, and even longer to get bakugou to stop glaring at you for hurting yourself.

“I love you,” he said after a moment of silence, his rough thumbs rubbing circles into the meat of your hand.

“I know.” You sighed, basking in the silence that lasted only a few seconds before bakugou ripped his hands from yours.

“SAY IT BACK!”

***

I hope you enjoyed!

[refinedbuffoonery]

Late Nights

This is 2.5k words of fluff and essentially no plot. Set a week after the events of ICLU. I wrote the first part back in May right after I got the idea for ICLU and have been sitting on this ever since. 

*****

When the letters and numbers on the screen finally blurred beyond recognition, Riley closed the program she’d been working on and put the lab computer to sleep. Her eyes burned. She was horribly behind on developing this program; it needed to start beta testing days ago, but the team’s back to back multi-day ops and her impromptu trip with the Coltons on her supposed day off consumed all of her time and energy this week. 

Posing as a think tank, the Phoenix did have to do think tank-y things on occasion, after all, and every agent was expected to contribute to the organization’s public projects. Including a certain physically and emotionally exhausted hacker. 

Mac sat across from her, fidgeting with spare robot parts. Riley checked the time. 10:58 pm. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. She vaguely recalled Bozer teasing her about not spending the night in his lab again. Pointing at Mac, he’d said, “Good thing he’s just as much of a workaholic as you are.” Riley knew Mac was just there to keep her company—and because they’d carpooled—not because he needed to keep working, but she hadn’t bothered to correct Bozer. 

Groaning, Riley let her head fall into her hands. It felt like some invisible force was squeezing her skull, slowly crushing it like a grape. She needed to go to bed. Possibly forever. 

“You okay?” She glimpsed Mac’s concerned frown between her fingers. 

“Yeah,” she replied, dragging her hands through her hair. “I have a headache, that’s all.” Understatement of the century. “How long until you’re done?” 

Mac looked unconvinced; when it came to her, he didn’t miss much. Mercifully, he didn’t push for a more elaborate answer. “Um, I need a few more minutes to finish this, plus maybe fifteen more to clean up. Bozer will kill me if I leave a giant mess in his lab.” Riley managed a small smirk. Indeed he would. 

Riley figured it would be at least a half hour before he was ready to leave. Just enough time for a nap. “Take your time, Mac.” She stood, hauling her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m going to take a nap. Come find me when you’re ready to go.” He nodded. 

Sleep beckoning, Riley left the lab in search of a comfy chair. 

*****

Thirty minutes later, Mac found her curled up in her favorite chair in the war room. Knees tucked into her chest, head cradled in the crook of her elbow, she looked breathtakingly peaceful. 

He regretted waking her the moment he gently shook her shoulder. Riley grumbled something unintelligible that might have been his name. 

“Time to go home, Riles.” Mac shouldered her backpack and helped her out of the chair. 

Riley could barely open her eyes. She took one staggering step forward and nearly wiped out on the table she definitely didn’t realize was right in front of her. He knew she was exhausted—he was too—but this was alarming. She was burning herself out on the least important part of her job, and Mac didn’t understand why. A problem for tomorrow, he decided. 

Mac wrapped an arm around her waist, helping keep her upright. “Thank you,” she mumbled. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head. 

Mac’s truck sat alone in the underground lot. He was immensely grateful he and Riley had carpooled to work that day. Otherwise, if he hadn’t stayed to keep her company while she worked, she definitely would’ve spent the whole night in that war room chair. 

They drove home in silence. Riley quickly fell asleep in the passenger seat, head resting on the window. 

She was still out cold when he parked his truck in the driveway, and Mac couldn’t bring himself to wake her up twice in one night. He slid his arms around her back and under her knees and carried her inside, and Mac’s heart melted when she snuggled her face into his shoulder. He could hold her like this forever. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured. 

Mac laid her on the guest bed and rested her backpack against the nightstand. He quickly unlaced her boots and pulled them off, revealing bright yellow and orange striped socks. He chuckled, imagining her muttering at him to stop laughing at her socks. 

Grabbing a makeup wipe from the guest bathroom, it took him a few minutes to remove her stubborn eyeliner. No wonder, he’d seen it withstand blazing infernos, days in the woods, blood, sweat, tears, everything. 

He tucked her under the covers before retrieving her favorite pajama shirt—an old t-shirt of his—and shorts. Mac left them at the foot of Riley’s bed, so she could change into them whenever she woke up. 

Riley curled into a loose ball, snuggling her face deeper into her pillow, and Mac couldn’t help but worry as he closed the door halfway and retreated to his room. 

*****

Riley awoke in the middle of the night to her bra’s underwire stabbing her in the chest. She blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings. She definitely wasn’t in the war room anymore. 

It took longer than Riley cared to admit to realize she was back in Mac’s guest bedroom—her bedroom for the year she’d lived with him. Mac must’ve taken her home from the Phoenix. 

Riley rolled onto her back, and her underwire stabbed her again. Fuck this, she thought, yanking off her tank top, then her bra, and sighing in relief as the straps fell down her shoulders. Chucking them both on the floor, she noticed the stack of clothes at the foot of her bed, blending in so well with the dark sheets Riley almost missed them. She smiled, silently thanking the man sleeping across the hall, and changed into her pajamas. 

While debating whether to stay or join Mac, Riley stretched her back and hips, joints popping softly. She could be lazy and spend the rest of the night in her old room, or she could go cuddle with her boyfriend, but that would require getting up. But if she got up, she could also brush her teeth. 

Had she even had dinner? Riley couldn’t remember. Her brain was still foggy. 

Ultimately, her desire to sleep with Mac and brush her teeth won out, and Riley hauled herself out of bed and across the hall, feet barely lifting off the ground with each step. 

Mac was a pretty light sleeper, so Riley slipped into bed beside him as quietly as she could. He stirred, but didn’t wake. Sinking into the mattress, Riley knew switching beds was the right choice. Her body relaxed more in Mac’s presence. She’d never realized how lonely exhaustion was, not until she had someone she could freely share with and who could empathize with her. Even so, she’d still lied earlier about how she really felt, mostly for the sake of her dignity. Mac was her best friend, but Riley was loath to outright admit to weakness, even to him. 

She wanted to snuggle into his warmth and tuck her face between his shoulder blades, but that would surely wake him up. And waking Mac up would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer just yet. So, Riley stuck to her side of the mattress, tucked her legs into her chest, and went back to sleep. 

*****

When Mac’s alarm went off, he wasn’t alone. Riley had snuck into his bed at some point and now curled into a tiny ball, facing away from him. 

He wished they didn’t have to go to work today, wished they could sleep in and he could pry some answers from her. But the world wouldn’t save itself. 

He texted Matty. Please don’t send us on an op someone else could do. Riley’s burning herself out, and I can’t figure out why. 

I’ll keep an eye on her, Matty replied immediately. 

Thank you. 

Leaning over to kiss his girlfriend’s cheek, Mac got up and went for a run. 

He did an easy three miles around the neighborhood, letting the cool dawn air wake him up. Mac smiled every time he passed someone else out for a run or walking their dog before the July sun made leaving the house practically unbearable. 

When he returned, Mac found Riley awake and making coffee for them both. Her back was to him, so Mac scanned her body for signs of stress or injury, finding neither. “Good morning,” he said to break the silence. 

Riley turned to him, bleary-eyed and still half asleep, and held out a steaming mug of coffee. Mac accepted, kissing her cheek in gratitude. It shocked him how easy it all was. She croaked, “How was your run?” 

Mac couldn’t deny the way seeing Riley in his clothes affected him—the same way, he realized guiltily, the sight had always appeased some primal, possessive part of his brain, even when they were just friends—but damn it hit differently when she wore a sleepy, lovesick smile and had just crawled out of his bed. Riley had always been his girl, but now she was his girl. 

The whole scene was sweet and domestic and everything he’d ever wanted. 

“Good,” he finally answered. “I even stopped to say hi to our favorite dog.” An elderly couple who lived a few streets away had a mini Aussie, who was quite possibly the happiest being in the universe. She would trot alongside her humans without a leash, but when Mac or Riley appeared, she whined and whined until her owners said “Go ahead,” and she’d come barreling full-force into Mac or Riley’s chest and lavish them with endless kisses. Her name was Freya. 

Riley’s eyes lit up in excitement. “My dog!” Mac chuckled, sliding onto one of the bar seats tucked below the counter. 

Changing the subject, Mac tried to be nonchalant when he asked, “How do you feel this morning?” Worry crept into his voice anyway. 

“Better,” Riley said, the mug hiding her face as she sipped her coffee. “Thanks for taking me home.” 

Of course he took her home. Even if they weren’t dating, Mac still would’ve taken her home and given her his clothes. There was no universe in which he wouldn’t do that. 

“Like I was going to let you spend the night in that chair,” he replied. Riley toyed with the hem of her shirt, her usual lively presence vanishing like a turtle retreating into its shell. Mac probed, “What’s up?” She sighed, still looking down. “Riles?” 

When she finally looked up, Riley’s eyes were heavy with guilt. “Do you know how many times I almost got us killed this week?” Mac waited. “Twice. I led us—led you—right into traps I should’ve seen from a mile away. And before that, I gave you a fucking panic attack that sent you driving through the middle of nowhere to come find me!” Her voice crescendoed. “And now? Now I can’t even get that stupid program to work right! I just want to be able to do one thing right. One thing! Is that too much to ask?” Riley let out a loud, frustrated groan, shoulders caving inward. 

Mac stayed in his seat, letting Riley have her space. He knew she didn’t like being coddled when she was frustrated. “I almost get us killed constantly,” he reminded her. “It’s part of our job. No one is holding it against you, especially not me. And that panic attack was the best thing to happen to me, because without it we’d still be waiting for one of us to find the courage to confess. This is going to sound hypocritical coming from me, but you can’t beat yourself up about that stuff.” 

Riley snorted. “Very hypocritical.” 

“You have to take the small wins as they come, okay? We’re not dead! We had sex! The important stuff!” 

“I see you have your priorities together.” Her tone was snarky, but Mac caught her smile between sips of coffee. 

“If we didn’t have to go to work I’d bend you over the counter and tell you how hot you look in my shirt.” 

Mac impressed himself with how casually he managed to say that; he could only imagine Riley’s merciless teasing if his voice had cracked. 

Riley blushed, even as she cautiously said, “We could do that anyway.” 

The apprehension in her voice hit Mac like a bucket of cold water. He couldn’t just say things like that to his girlfriend of two days. Or maybe she was his best friend and he didn’t care. Mac couldn’t decide. This thing between them was so new, yet it felt like they’d been together forever. The butterflies lasted forty-eight hours, tops, before the calm sense of belonging, of home, washed over them. Mac had never had that happen so quickly in a relationship before. Usually it took weeks or even months, not two days. 

“It’s not like they’re going to know,” Riley added. 

That made the decision for him. “Are you kidding me? If we walk in late together, they’ll absolutely know why. They’re like professional mind readers! We’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“Correction,” Riley said. “You’ll never hear the end of it. Desi and Bozer will just high five me and say, ‘Nice.’” 

Mac frowned. She was right, unfortunately. He finished the rest of his coffee, grimacing at the bitter last sip. Placing his mug in the sink, Mac said, “Seriously though, I want you to feel safe sharing with me when you feel like this, Riles.” He leaned against the sink. “Let me help you.” 

Riley crossed to him, finally closing the gap between them, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Okay,” she agreed, head resting on his shoulder. She sighed. “I really don’t want to go to work today, but if I get any more behind on that damn project I am going to pull my hair out.” 

Mac pressed a single kiss where her neck met her shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful. Please don’t pull it out.” Gently, he unwound Riley’s scrunchie, letting her hair tumble down her back so he could play with it. 

“Just for you.” 

They stood like that as long as they could, before they really did need to get ready for work. “I need to shower,” Mac finally said, ruining the quiet moment. “Care to join me?” 

Riley raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want to be late.” 

A very serious shower,” Mac amended. “No funny business.” 

“Right.” Riley kissed him until Mac couldn’t hold back his grin. “No funny business. Now where have I heard that before?” 

Laughing, Mac dragged his girlfriend toward the bathroom. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Talking to myself.”

I had no idea where this was going when I started writing this morning, but it turned out pretty interesting, so I hope you like it :). 

“Wow, Amazing.”

“Yeah.”

“Amazing.

“I know right!” Dr. Katie spun in a wide circle, eyes wide as she looked around the massive convention, eyes falling over all the strange alien technology, most of which was impossible to identify without proper explanation.

Admiral Vir rested his hands on hips as he looked around with a small smile, “Yeah, you should have seen it last year. Damn, good times.”

Katie glanced over at him, “What happened last year.”

He smirked, “We forgot to bring an invention.”

She grimaced, “Oh, that must have been embarrassing.”

“Not really, I had duct tape in my bag, and managed to pass that off as our contribution to science.” A distant look passed over his face accompanied by a far away smile, “And man do aliens love duct tape.”

They came around another corner heading up the medical alley, where Krill and some of the other medical professionals were haunting, shooting quick fire questions at anyone who they thought could answer. Krill was grilling someone on the use of personal shielding devices and if, “Do they protect the wearer from their own stupidity?”

On the other side of the field Dr. Adric and a few of the Finnari from the psych department were listening to an enthusiastic Tesraki, human duo about the application of some sort of weird looking helmet. Curious, he walked up feeling Conn’s shadow pass over him as the strange floating alien joined in.

“Yes it’s psych applications could be endless.”

“You see dreams, memories, information. If the wearer just thinks of it, the helmet will augment the memory process and fill in the retrieval gaps.”

Dr adric tapped his chin, “This would be perfect for therapy.

“PRecisely what we were thinking, the applications are endless. Currently, we are working to see if we can compress the technology and turn it into an implant to give the wearer augmented memory life-long. It would pretty much be like giving some eidetic memory.”

“And what phase of testing is it in/’

There was a pause, and the human and the Tesraki rubbed their heads, “Well, it hasn’t made it to sentient testing just yet. It is very difficult to find aliens who are willing to participate in potentially dangerous studies, and the MTI has only just cleared it for human testing, but you know how hard humans are to find.”

Admiral Vir tilted his head to the side, “No human testing yet huh?” He paused and everyone turned their heads to look at him.

Sunny, who had been boredly staring down at her implant looked up now only to frown at him, “Adam.”

“Well call me your first volunteer.” He said grinning, “A pretest shouldn't be a big problem, should it?”

The two scientists looked between each other with surprise, “Are you sure.”

“Of course I’m sure. You guys are the smart people right, and I have memories, so works out for everyone.”

He stepped up onto the little dais with them against Sunny’s protest pulling his sunglasses -- a pair of aviators -- off his head and handing them to a still-protesting Sunny.

He walked over and plopped himself down in their chair, turning his head to look up at them, “Well go on, hook me up and let's get this test started.”

The two scientists stared at him with some concern and incredulity, “Well we should probably have you sign a waver first.”

He shrugged, “yeah, sure.”

Against the protestations of his crew members, he signed his name on the dotted line barely reading the contract before leaning back in the chair. Sunny snatched the contract from one of their hands and looked down to read it over, “Potential life threatening brain injury! Adam, get down from there!”

“You worry too much.” he announced sitting back in his chair, “Hook me up kids, and lets get this show on the road.”

The two scientists -- hardly believing their good fortune-- quickly got to work as Sunny continued to protest. Cold jell was applied to the contacts on the inside of the helmet. Tiny electrodes clicked from recesses inside the helmet appearing on his forehead, temples, cheeks, behind his ears and on the back of his neck.

He shivered, “Damn that’s cold.”

The Tesraki turned to boot up the machine, and his human companion crouched next to him, “Just close your eyes, and let your mind wander.”

“Already there, Doc.”

A dark tinted face covering slid down before his eyes, and he leaned back in his seat closing his eyes and trying not to think too much.

He sat there for a long time, wondering if this was ever going to work, so far he didn’t see anything, though the chair was comfortable and the darkness was rather inviting to a very stressful day. Sort of reminded him of what he was little-

*** The carpet below his bare feet was soft and squishy, poking upland  between his toes as he padded quietly down the hall. Behind him, the sound of snoring accompanied his quiet escape as Thomas tossed in his sleep. Darkness pooled at the edges of the hallway, deep pools of black he was sure had to be hiding something. He sped up, his lip quivering, eyes wide as he rushed from the dark and towards the soft flickering light of the front room.

Despite his fear, he paused at the edge of the hallway, and after a few seconds of thinking very, very hard, he crawled onto his hands and knees, inching forward, trying to be as quiet as he could eyes fixed on the subtle swaying motion of momma’s rocking chair. 

Across the room the TV was on, but the volume was all the way down, and the subtle blue light was nearly drowned out by the flickering tongues of fire across the room.

He pressed one hand to the carpet and immediately the rocking chair paused, “Adam, sweetheart, go back to bed.”

He paused turning to look back at the dark hallway. Tears sprung to his eyes as a sudden wave of fear gripped him. He got to his feet, and with a soft padding he raced around the side of the couch and towards a familiar silhouette. 

He grabbed her leg in both of his arms resting his head against hr knee as he stared back at the dark hallway.

Momma looked down at him, her bright green eyes sparkling in the light of the fire, “Adam….” She sighed 

He looked up at her eyes still filled with frightened tears

She sighed, but smiled, setting down her book “Crime and Punishment”. She reached down grabbing him under the arms and hoisting him onto her lap. He cuddled against her chest, head resting on her shoulder. She kissed the top of his head, “it is a good thing you are so cute.”

She unfolded the blanket on her lap and wrapped it around him adjusting him in her arms where they were both comfortable.

“Now go to sleep.”

His eyes drooped even as she was speaking, and he faded away.

***

He gasped in shock and surprise jolting upright in his seat 

“Adam! Adam!” The mask before his eyes was flipped up and he was almost immediately blinded by light. He lifted his hands as the little pen light shone from one eye to the other.

“Adam, can you hear us.”

He waved them off, “yeah yeah, get off!” 

He shook himself a bit and sat up straighter. The two scientists stared at him with wide eyes, “W….what did you see?”

“It…. it works. I remembered something from when i was just a kid maybe… two no older than three. I remember the light, the TV show my mother was watching, the book she was reading, the way the carpet felt.” He shook his head incredulous, “That is… that is amazing, let me go back in.”

They glanced at each other but shrugged and allowed him to pull the visor down over his face as he leaned back.

***

A warm wind blew over the open school grounds. A small tree gave meager shade from the sun beating down upon them. Trucks and cars in the parking lot were filled with students dressed in their school colors -- the most hideous pairing of orange white and maroon -- Some had stripes painted on their cheeks, cheering as the cars lined up for the parade. He sat, small wearing a bright green shirt, having totally forgotten what today was.

Another gust of wind kicked up, tugging at the bright blue UN flag hanging outside the school.

A group of girls ran past, and some kid putted by on his moped: Moped Manny as many called him.

The football players passed by next, all stuffed into the bed of a truck yelling and hollering at the top of their lungs. He could see the individual numbers on their hest 37, 24, 6, 19 and 14. He stood from his seat, enthusiastically waving a hand towards number fourteen, a tall, dark-haired boy, who looked more like a man than the rest of the senior class.

Jeremy spied him almost immediately waving a hand high over his head and grinning.

The Truck was speeding up, towards its spot at the front of the parade line. Jeremy locked eyes with him and motioned him over with a large, gloved hand. Feeling a sudden wave of relief, he raced after the truck, which was picking up speed, reaching out a hand to geremy, who grabbed one of the the other players by the upper arm as to steady himself as he reached down. The guys yelled in surprise, but he ignored them stretching out his hand.

Adam leaped forward grabbing him by the hand, and with all his strength, and only with one arm, Jeremy hauled him up into the back of the moving truck to the protestations of the other team players.

“Dude what the hell.”

“He’s not supposed to be here, Jeremy.”

Jeremy turned, one arm around his little brother’s shoulders, “Another word about the kid, and I turf one of you out of the truck. As if to punctuate his threat, he drew himself into a crouch hands up like he was about to start a football play.

Everyone backed off, and their near hostility faded away.

A few of them even smiled.

One ruffled his hair, “Alright Freshman, if you’re gonna be here at least be useful.” A bag of candy was shoved into his hands, and he looked up at his brother with an expression of gratitude as Jeremy smiled down, “better than being back with the freshmen eh.”

He nodded his head and smiled at his older brother, who thumbed him on the back once before a chant broke out and he had to join in.

They moved up the line of cars, passing the Sophomore float where Thomas was standing grumpily at it’s back hands in his pockets. Just towards the front, Student body president and homecoming king David sat in his nice suit on the hood of a classic car next to the homecoming queen.

He waved at them as they passed making a face at Adam. jeremy flipped him off.

His eyes moved towards the sky, as the bright blue expanse reminded him of something.

***

Conn tilted his head slightly listening, or seeing the visions that ran through the man’s head in crystal clear detail. It was a clever trick he thought, but he bet he could see a completely different application to this machine.

Not really any reason to use it right now….

Other than his own curiosity of course.

***

The sky suddenly faded to black. The roaring Euphoria through his body completely dropped off as he began to fall hands and legs flailing out in either direction as he did. He screamed in shock and surprise, given only a second before plowing straight down into the dark ground below.

It hurt.

He was surprised at how much it hurt.

He groaned and sat up, pushing his body against the balck marble floor. Looking around, he saw nothing other than a black floor extending into darkness. A white ambient light was glowing from somewhere, but he couldn’t tell where for the life of him. 

What the hell was going on. He didn’t have a memory like this.

Off in the distance, he thought he could see another person, or another figure crouched against the floor.

He began walking towards the figure, and then broke into a sort of half jog. He could make out the figure now, a man it seemed, sitting on the floor his arms wrapped around his knees rocking back and forth.

“Hey…. uh are you alright.” He called jogging forward a little faster.

He was just close enough now to see the figure, a brown jacket, blond hair, blue jeans and boots, head down against his folded arms. 

He reached out a hand, “hey.”

As his hand came down, the head snapped upwards and he yelped in surprised leaping back as his own face stared back at him. 

“The HELL!”

His own face twisted into an expression of confusion and inner pain, “Help me.”

“Help you?I Help you what”

His clone's hands pressed against the side of his head, “What is wrong with me.”

“Wrong with you, nothing is wrong with you I…”

“I’m so scared…. Of everything, all the time I…. its like I can’t breathe.”

Adam paused standing over…. Himself? As the other him rocked bak and forth on the floor.

He paused, kneeling down and resting a hand on…. On his own shoulder?

“I uh… I’m sorry you feel that way but…. You know I’m scared all the time too, you know that I’ll let everyone down, that people will find out im a fraud, that ill get everyone killed, that I’m not good enough….. That she will leave me?”

His clone threw his head back hands still to the side of his head, “How do you stand it!”

“I uh.”

“Shut up jackass, and don’t bother paying attention to him. He  just likes the attention.” Adam leaped to his feet as his own voice assailed him from another side. He turned on the spot finding another incarnation of himself staring back at him. This one was wearing a flight suit, aviators, and was slowly chewing a piece of gum as he walked forward. He paused next to the quivering adam on the floor an made an expression of disgust before kicking him into the floor, “Shut up.’

Adam grabbed him? Himself? By the arm, “Hey leave him alone.”

The other Adam turned to face him still chewing slowly ,”No, I don’t think I will. This guy gets in my way all the time.” He glowered down at him, “Sniveling bastard, if it wasn’t for him I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, but he always has to wine and complain.”

“Touch him again and I will end you.” Adam said stepping in between himself and his other self.

Confident Adam leaned back arms crossed over his chest, “You should thank me for what I do. If it wasn’t for me we wouldn’t be flying, we would have a spaceship, and despite him…. We still managed to get the girl.”

Adam clenched his teeth, “Sometimes fear is alright.”

The other Adam snorted,, “Fear is for the weak.

Adam stared at himself with a frown, ‘Your a real asshole aren't you.” 

“Not an asshole, just not afraid of repercussions.” 

“Wow, is that an eyepatch!”

He turned again, as a child’s voice assailed him this time. 

A young boy no older than ten or eleven ame rolling up on a pair of heelies wearing a Star Trek T shirt and holding a lightsaber in the other hand.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Awesome!”

“Er, yeah I guess.”

A pair of bright green eyes looked up at him, “Hey, you’re me aren't you? Me from the future!”

“Oh uh, yeah I guess.”

“Did you discover aliens! Did you get to ride on a spaceship!”

Adam grinned at his younger self and reached out to ruffle his own hair, “Kid, we DISCOVER aliens, and Command an entire FLEET of spaceships.”

His younger self’s eyes widened, “WOAH! Awesome!”

“I know right!” “You’re SOOO cool.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well guess what kid, you get to be me when you grow up.”

Younger him whooped happily and wheeled away into the darkness.

“Look, we have to focus. The fleet has approximately 225 ships not including the omen. Now if we divide that out and have each fleet cover a specific sector, we  can maximize our coverage reducing crime, AND accidents by about 15% according to my calculations.”

“Hey hey, watch this.”

“No, no NO! I told you to FOCUS.”

“He he, are you mad.”

“YES OF COURSE I AM MAD. I AM TRYING TO WORK HERE!”

He turned on the spot looking towards where he was standing x2, or at least one of them was standing, the other one was trying to walk on his hands. The one that was on his two feet was wearing a pristinely cut uniform perfectly maintained, while the other one hadn't even bothered to tuck his dress shirt into his pants

“Of all the unprofessional, Idiotic, Mind numbing!”

“Hey, Hey guess what?” The scruffy Adam asked sitting on the floor and looking up at his companion.

He sighed, “What?’

“I own a jetpack he he.”

The well dressed version of himself clenched his fists and screamed in frustration, “I am NEVER going to get any work done with you around.”

“Pretty funny, aren't they.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin as the pleasant female voice spoke from over his shoulder. He whirled around his hands up and was met by a woman. She had a very pleasant, wide smile. Long honey blonde hair rolling in waves down her shoulders, one bright green eye and…. And eyepatch.

“Holy shit.”

“I know right?”

“So uh, who are you supposed to be. I mean I get the other guys, fear, douchebag, child, smart guy and dumbass, so who ware you.”

She-Adam smiled, “You’re smarter than you look.”

“I get that a lot.”

He glanced over at where smart adam was still yelling at dumb adam, “I think I spend most of my time between dumb adam and the kid, wherever he went.”

She smiled again and laughed, “Isn’t that the truth. But to answer your question I am Executive control.”

“My executive control is a woman?”

She shrugged, “Your executive control is awesome and you know it.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Has confidence been rubbing off on you?”

“All of them rub off on me.” She frowned, “Wow that sounded dirty.”

“Ew, that sounds wrong.” He cracked a smile 

“So uh, is there anything I should know while I can actually talk to my own brain. Like is there anything you need, vitamins or…. Or something I’m not getting enough of.”

She-Adam frowned and tilted her head, “Hmm, good question. You could always use more sleep, more vegetables, and….. “ She paused and looked him over, “you’re not going to like this.”

He sighed, “Shit.”

She rested a hand on his shoulder, “That girl…. You know the one I am talking about. She is giving you so many signals it hurts me on a daily basis to see you either A. ignore them because fear or B,. just not seem them because dumbass over there gets in the way.” They both glanced to where dumbass was now rolling around on the floor.

“Uh huh.”

“You use confidence a lot, let him stay around when she’s there every once in a while.’

“You mean the douchebag guy.”

“Confidence and pride are two sides of the same coin. Let me handle him, just trust yourself.”

“You mean you.”

“I AM you. Besides I think I rein him in well enough most of the time.”

He sighed, “it's not confidence I have a problem with. Its fear.”

She frowned a bit, “I'll talk to him.”

“You mean I’ll talk to myself.” He glanced around at the dark expanse, “Where is procrastination. I am sure he will get in here to fuck things up.” 

“Adam, look at me.”

He turned his head to face her, somehow feeling like he was being scolded…. By himself, “I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “We have really come into our own these past few years, and it’s only going to get better, just keep trying.” 

He paused and nodded.

“I believe you.”

“Its about time.”

***

And then He snapped out of it bolting upright again, “What the hell!”

Conn floated over him with his head tilted, “I wasn’t expecting that.

“Conn, what did you do!”

“I think I may have just helped you out.” 

[darkgeminisworld]

This is gonna be a rant about a probably toxic friend so if you don't wanna read it, this is a heads up.

Okay so for several reasons, most of them being that I need to move on, I decided to write this lengthy rant about a friend I'm pretty sure will not be a friend of mine for much longer, which sucks bc he's almost my only irl friend but also feels good bc he's exhausting and I'm pretty sure he's also toxic.

I've met this guy like 6 and a half years ago, and we pretty much bonded over shared interests pretty fast. The first thing that bothered me was that he'd always be late, which would be absolutely fine if he'd been honest about it. But writing that it's five minutes until he's there and then showing up 30 minutes after that, or writing "I'm on your doorstep" and taking another ten minutes to show up, almost every single time, isn't, especially since I strained to be on time the first months (meaning I'd be too early bc my brain only does too early or too late, nothing in between). And his being late wasn't just 20 or 30 minutes, several times he was over an hour late. Oh, and once when we had agreed to meet he legit wasn't home and I waited around 2 hours, which I really should have held a grudge for back then and been way more pissed at him.

The second thing that bothered me was that he was way too nosy. He'd ask if I'm free to meet and play video games or whatever and whenever I said no he'd ask what I'm doing and if I can't manage my time another way to make time for him. And the thing is, not only did I not ask several times after he told me that he's busy that day, but I actively told him, several times over the course of about the last two years, that it bothers me and asked him to tone it down. My problem here is only that he didn't stop after I asked him to, bc before I told him and asked him, how was he supposed to know.

Coming out to him went well, though he did ask me whether I'm into him, which... No. Obviously it could've gone a lot worse, but still.

The next is more a small annoyance, a small itch, although it might have been a warning sign. He couldn't handle defeat very well. In most video games he was better, but he low-key aggressively denied it when I pointed out the win-lose ratio in my all-time favourite video game series and he'd try to cheat at other games. If it was only about him being competitive I'd understand, but that doesn't mean trying to rewrite the past by blatantly lying about it and ridiculing me for pointing out that that's bullshit, especially since it's only games, played for the fun of it.

We also went to the cinema sometimes, though if it had been up to him it'd have been way more often and that's another point where he really didn't let it go after getting a no. Whether he wanted to watch a horror movie after being told, several times, that I really don't like horror movies, or just the general question of whether we'd be going to the cinema, he'd ask again and ask what I'm doing, why did I not want to go, would another time be good, couldn't I ask my parents for money (which, to be fair, I could have. But I preferred not to bc back then it was really stressful bc we had to move and renovate and I just didn't wanna add more frustration if that makes sense? Plus I wanted to get my hands on some things, which required to save up) etc. Almost every time we did end up going, it was he who initiated it. I mean, don't get me wrong, I wanted to see some of the movies just as badly as he did, but... And if he can't even accept "no" from a friend of several years (also a 100% guy friend as far as he is aware bc I didn't start to address gender issues with him), I'm worried about other contexts with that word. Also we did some kind of text role play (just texting back and forth with OCs inserted into several fantasy works like the Inheritance Cycle, who would parttake in the storyline, no set rulebook or anything) and his characters did some questionable and even outright deplorable things and when I wanted his character to suffer consequences, he always wanted him to get away with it. Like, his idea for one of his characters "pranking" mine in reaction to a prank which in itself was a retaliation to his character's pranks was kidnapping and waterboarding my character. And he kept defending it as a prank and demanded that my character should just forgive his character, like... It really made (and continues to make) me wonder and worry just how much of his darker thoughts I don't know about. And I don't know how accurate it is but I once saw a post with a quote that went along the lines of "man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth." (btw I couldn't think of a satisfactory way to phrase it so I ended up looking up the quote and apparently it's from Oscar Wilde)

So I spent a fair amount of time arguing with him over that and trying to explain to the best of my ability why it was wrong, and for some time it went better.

Fast forward a few months to the blm protests or more specifically news coverage of it and info I sent him. He defended cops and blamed the protestors and even justified the atrocities of the cops, so that was the first instance where we had a huge fight. I practically drowned him in links and videos etc and some weeks into that I thought I'd managed to get through to him (Spoiler: I didn't really get through to him) so I kept it in mind but continued to have contact with him and everything (bc at the time I didn't know that I didn't really get through as much as I thought).

From there on it pretty much went downhill. We had been thinking about doing a trip to London for a few days (his idea but at the time I really wanted to go, it was around 2 years ago when I still practically worshipped that one author, she who must not be named) and to this very day he's not letting it go completely. Even though the pandemic puts lots of obstacles in the way and I have more important things to worry about, namely final exams and applications. Even though London is expensive as shit and I still have no way to earn money atm. And about the vacation, I finally canceled last summer (and gave the aforementioned reasons) and he completely lost his shit and got super aggressive, insulted me and tried to guilt-trip me into taking that back and agreeing to still go on that vacation with him. Then we got into another fight where he wanted me to cancel the vacation with my grandparents, which was already planned and booked and everything in order to make time for the vacation I'd already said I don't want to go on with him anymore and aggressively demanded (he didn't ask, he sent a demand and bombarded me with exclamation marks) to know when exactly I'd be going on vacation with them. Then he went offline after I refused and ignored the next few messages I sent him and only replied when I asked "what I'd I reconsidered my stance on the trip?". I mean, baiting him with that definitely was shitty of me, but the result showed that that was basically what he wanted, pressure me into still going on that vacation. That specific conflict had been going on for weeks, bc despite me telling him that it's counterproductive and detrimental to my mental health to increase the pressure and therefore my anxiety about getting a job to pay for the trip, he kept pressuring me while acknowledging that he's giving me lots of pressure and anxiety and even using that against me.

He also didn't acknowledge that most times we try to meet, he goes offline for hours before replying and disappearing again. That would be absolutely fine if he didn't accuse me of doing that, which btw is his standard technique and it took me a long time to realize that. He always tries to shift the blame to make me look like the one at fault, and he always, always demands that I apologize when we had a fight via WhatsApp.

And when I started enforcing my boundaries and telling him to stop asking again and again why I can't meet, what I'm doing, or demanding other explanations, he started to attack me for the kind of language I use, so when I'm ever so slightly sarcastic he immediately latches onto that and creates a new conflict.

But this still isn't all, oh no. He's also basically an ecofascist, and is fully okay with sacrificing social justice to save the environment, completely choosing to ignore that the people he's protecting are the ones at fault and that the ppl who contribute the least are the ones experiencing the hardest ecological consequences.

He's said multiple times that he thinks both sides are equally bad, in the context of left and right in general as well as antifascism and fascism and that he doesn't "condone the oppressed defending themselves with any means necessary" bc that, too, would include violence. He's defending the "right to free speech" even when right-wingers say really disgusting shit, he disagrees with prohibiting demonstrations of ppl who think that Corona is a hoax, he has zero empathy for ppl who are affected, who suffer long-term consequences from infections, not even for ppl who die from it (he literally said "people die anyway, that doesn't justify imprisoning everyone else") and somehow still thinks he has the moral high ground.

And the last bit he did was explaining to me, from his endocisallohet white guy perspective, how I'm "not discriminated against" bc gay ppl in my country can get married (only since 2017 btw) and when I, despite the fact that I shouldn't have had to and that it was a real blow to my mental health, wrote him a message that was almost the length of an essay, he calmly started to question my replies with the detachedness of someone who's discussing whether pineapple belongs on pizza and demanding further explanation. To top it off, he said that marginalized ppl have to always reply to everyone calmly and politely, no matter if it was offensive bc the person asking might be unaware of that. Otherwise, he said, everyone would be right to stop listening to us. Like, he literally said that we don't deserve human rights if we're not licking the boots of our oppressors if that way of thinking is followed through to the end.

I almost forgot, he also thinks that white ppl should have a say in whether something is a racist slur, or whether something is racist in general (we're both white, but at least I'm trying my best to unlearn what my upbringing taught me instead of being the cliché of the white person who goes "how dare you call me racist, I've never been more insulted in my whole life!", which is basically his reaction)

So up until this last fight, I conceded some ground to him to end the fights and keep him as a "friend" not only bc I feel horrible when I imagine losing one of my only irl friends but also bc I was hoping I could get through to him and educate him, to the best of my ability, on how to be a good ally to marginalized people. But the disregard with which he treats my explanations why the way he talked (wrote) about marginalized people is absolutely not okay and the fact that he just told me that he genuinely doesn't see how he did anything wrong even after I explained it to him in detail is just too much to bear at this point.

Oh, and while looking through the chat to prove him a liar I found that apparently, to him a promise is a promise, no matter whether it was given under pressure or voluntarily, so do with that what you will.

[qualquercoisa945]

Faith Ain’t No Privilege

Title Inspiration: Next To Me by Imagine Dragons

AO3 Link

okay so this is all pure self indulgence for @kitty-howard's six spy au, apparently this is canon which is making me go !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but yee enjoy!!

trigger warnings: mentions of a character being shot, sexual abuse and pedophilia. nothing is described, they're really only mentions, but i thought it best to still add it

For Anne and Kath to come home late was not uncommon in the slightest. A rarer, but still common enough occurrence that Anne could remember the last time it happened, was for Lizzie to still be up when they got home. Awake or not, and admittedly a little out of paranoia that something had happened to the girl, she made it a point to check in on her when they got home. Lizzie had a tendency to hurt herself, she knew better than to leave her to her own devices for long.

And also the fact that Henry and his men would make a target of her extremely quickly. That was definitely a contributing factor to her paranoia.

Which was why when, one night where they came home late once more, she opened the door to Lizzie’s room only to find it empty, her mind immediately went to the worst possible situation- worries that were only heightened when she noticed a note on top of the pillow- one that was definitely not in Lizzie’s handwriting, she also realized.

“Annie?” Anne glanced back behind her to look at Kath, who was standing in the hallway watching her awkwardly. “Is Lizzie alright?” She didn’t answer, instead turning back to the room and walking to the bed to grab the note, feeling her hands shake more as she got closer. She was vaguely aware of Kitty following her in, but didn’t pay her much attention.

As she got closer, she noticed the note wasn’t written on a regular piece of paper, but instead on the back of a photograph. She reached out to grab it, and she noticed Kath looking over her shoulder to read the note. Thanks for the hint, it said, which answered nothing. “What hint?” Kath asked, holding onto her arm lightly. Anne just shrugged in response, focused on the note. When she flipped it around to see the actual photograph, though, she nearly screamed.

It was the photo of Lizzie she typically carried with her, the one she’d lost just a few days ago. She’d assumed, or rather hoped, that she’d simply dropped it on the sidewalk and it had been swept away, but it seemed she hadn’t had no such luck. She felt Kitty cling onto her arm when she flipped the photo around. “They took her?” She murmured quietly.

Anne waited for a moment, then gripped onto the edge of the paper and shoved it in her pocket. “Yeah.” She growled. “And they’re gonna pay for it.

When she’d first moved in, Kath had been confused as to why Anne insisted on having so many security cameras, along with the alarms and, sometimes, even guards she’d spotted surrounding the house. After joining Six, those things that had previously been confusing became understandable and even reassuring- that in case anything happened, they had put measures in place to minimize the damage.

And now, said case had happened, with Lizzie being kidnapped. The cameras allowed them to figure out the guy’s license plate, which let them track him down, and that sent them down a long streak of tracking people down until finally, they cracked where Lizzie was being kept, within just a couple of days.

Problem was, during the last of these missions, Anne had gotten shot, meaning she wouldn’t be able to go on the actual rescue mission. Kath felt anxious about that- relaxed as she usually acted, Lizzie must be feeling terrified after this entire ordeal, and having a friendly, or at least familiar face there would help, even if only a little bit.

It was then that an idea began forming. It was a long shot, for sure, but not trying would make her feel awful about it, so she decided to shoot it. Thus, the night before the mission, she made her way to Aragon’s office.

The two rarely interacted- Aragon was very often on the field and Katherine had never even stepped foot on it, not to mention they were always busy with their separate projects, leaving them with very little time to actually talk. Still, she supposed there was a first time for everything.

“Catherine?” She asked as she quietly knocked on the doorway, seeing as the door was open. She waited for her to look up, then continued. “May I come in?” She got nothing apart from a nod in response, so she walked in and quietly closed the door behind her.

“I want to talk about tomorrow’s mis-” “Do you want to come?”

Kath stared at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Anne isn’t in good enough condition to go, nowhere near it.” Catherine began calmly. “You’d stay in the car with Grace, but I think Elizabeth would benefit from seeing a familiar face.” She stopped, staring at a photograph on her desk. Kath followed her gaze- it was of a teenage girl, she’d say around fifteen or sixteen. She looked an awful lot like Catherine, which caused her to assume that was Mary, her daughter.

“Either way,” Catherine spoke up, causing Kath to snap out of it, “you’re not forced to come. It’s an option, but I unders-” “No no, I was actually here to ask you if I could come.” She explained, a bit of a nervous giggle at the end of the phrase.

Kath could’ve sworn she’d noticed a ghost of a smile flicker on Catherine’s face, but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. “Then it’s settled. I’ll warn Grace. You’re dismissed.”

Kath turned around to leave, then stopped as Catherine spoke up again. “Oh, Katherine?” She turned around to face her boss. “Tell Anne she can go home early. You go too, I’d rather make sure she doesn’t get herself hurt again. And don’t expect this to become the norm.”

Kath nodded, then turned back around and leaving, a small smile on her face and a slight skip to her step.

Being stuck in the car, Kath soon realized, was just as anxiety inducing, if not more, then being stuck in their head quarters. Grace tried to keep the mood light with calm conversation at first from the driver’s seat, which she’d appreciated, but both had silently agreed that it wasn’t working, so now they waited in silence.

She glanced upwards for what felt like the umpteenth time, but for the first time she actually noticed something worth seeing- Anna leaving the building, her arm wrapped around-

Lizzie. She was a mess, her hair thrown everywhere. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and- Was that a cut on her cheek? “Good thing Anne isn’t here…” She mumbled to herself, sitting up a bit straighter as Anna pulled the girl along towards the car.

She turned to watch as Anna opened the door to the back seat, where Kath was. “Here, come in sweetheart.” Her voice was a lot softer than usual, similar to the one she used when helping Kath treat hurt agents in the medical bay.

“Thank you, miss.” Lizzie’s voice was heard from outside, but she froze as she began climbing onto the car. “Kitty?” Kath smiled sheepishly as she heard her call her name.

“Hi Lizzie. Let’s just, get back and then we’ll explain everything, yeah?” Kath watched as Lizzie stared at her for roughly thirty seconds, then sighed and nodded.

“Fine. But this better be quick.”

Before she could answer, Anna spoke up. “I can’t promise that. I’m gonna go back in and make sure Catherine, Vicki and Courtney are alright. Will you three be okay on your own?”

“Don’t worry, Cleves, we’re gonna be fine.” Grace replied from the driver’s seat, turning around to face her with a slight smirk. “Go kick ass.”

“And don’t get hurt.” Kath added, to which Anna nodded.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll see about the others though.” She mumbled quietly, then sighed, closing the door quietly and running back inside.

Grace’s attention turned to Lizzie. “Hey Eliz-”

“Don’t.” Lizzie warned, cutting her off. “Lizzie or Liz. Only people allowed to call me by my full name are my mum and my teachers.” Kath smiled a little- despite everything, Lizzie still had the familiar snark to her. Still, her voice was much quieter, and gentler as well. She could tell something had happened.

“Right.” Grace replied with a nod and an amused smile. “Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Liz. Name’s Grace.” Lizzie nodded in response, keeping herself closer to Kath, who wrapped an arm around her.

“Nice to meet you too.” She replied eventually, and the three fell into somewhat tense silence. Meanwhile, Kath’s thoughts wandered back to Anne, and how she’d be fairing back at the HQ. Not well, she assumed, but she didn’t voice it out loud. No use in stressing everyone out even more.

Back in their head quarters, Catherine made her way to where Anne had been sitting all night. She made sure to knock on the door, not wanting to startle her, then came in. “How’re you holding up?”

Anne shrugged, giving her a bitter laugh. “How’s it look?” she replied, glaring at her injured shoulder before sighing. “Sorry, I’m just worried about Lizzie and Kitty.” She added soon after, something that made Catherine stop. Anne rarely apologized for her snarky remarks. She must be really bad, she guessed to herself, sitting down beside her.

“I’d be worried too. If something happened to Mae…” She trailed off, shaking her head as if physically trying to shake the thought off. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, to even consider the possibility.

“You love her a lot, don’t you?” Her train of thought was interrupted by Anne’s comment. “You get this look on your face when you talk about her, it’s like you just soften, even if just for a bit.” Parr stared at her as she spoke, a small smile spreading across her face.

“I could say the same about you, Anne.” She replied, her smile turning into a smirk at Anne’s surprise. “You turn into a completely different person when you talk about her. More relaxed, more calm.” She offered her a gentle smile. “More, open, I suppose you could say.”

Anne smiled, but before she could reply there was a knock on the door. Aragon was standing there, in her usual straight posture,

but there was a slight slump to it, a tiredness to the way she carried herself that didn’t go unnoticed to Parr. And when she spoke, her voice was unusually soft, which would be odd if the circumstances weren’t taken into consideration.

“Anne, your daughter’s in the medical bay.” Before Anne could panic, she continued. “She’ll be fine, don’t you worry. Just a cut. But we thought it best to make sure it wasn’t infected.” Catherine watched as Anne’s body relaxed ever so slightly. “If you plan on seeing her, I trust you don’t need me to show you the way.”

Anne chuckled, standing up and walking to the door. She stopped besides Aragon, looking back at them oddly calmly considering the situation. “Thanks, Catherine.” She murmured, and neither of the two could quite realize which of them it was for. Wouldn’t matter either way, as Anne was well on her way before they could reply to her.

Anne’s confident demeanor quickly diminished as she made her way towards the medical bay, hands on her pockets as she slipped her way in between coworkers. As she got near it, she saw both Cleves and Kath leaving the area, and quickly sprinted towards them. “How is-”

“She’s alright.” Kath guaranteed as she squeezed her hand. “A little shaken up, which is understandable, and a few cuts here and there. But otherwise she’s okay. She’ll be alright.” She promised, but Anne could tell there was something else in her mind.

“We haven’t told her about… What this whole thing is.” Cleves took over, making Anne shift her gaze to look up as she gestured towards their surroundings. “Figured you’d rather do it yourself.” Anne nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you.” She murmured, and for once there was no humour in her voice. She watched as the pair gave their goodbyes, then headed down the hall, before turning back to face the door. She took a quick, deep breath, then reached forward and opened it.

Spotting Lizzie in the mostly white and blue space of the medical bay wasn’t hard. Looking at her, though? The girl was curled up in one of the beds, trembling like a leaf. She looked so small, and it broke Anne’s heart to see her like that.

She tried to walk over to her quietly, but the echo of her footsteps was enough to startle the girl, and she stopped as Lizzie sat up, immediately looking over to the source of the noise.

Actually seeing Lizzie’s face was what nearly made her break. It wasn’t the cut, no- she’d seen her daughter with injuries of that kind fairly often thanks to her restlessness. It was her eyes. They were red and puffy, and it was clear to Anne that she’d been crying.

“Oh, Liz…” She murmured, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. Near immediately, Lizzie clung onto her, a hug Anne quickly reciprocated as she gently pulled the girl onto her lap. Lizzie was quick to bury her face on her shoulder, and soon enough she felt tears wet her suit. “Hey, hey, I’m here.” She soothed softly, rocking the girl gently back and forth as she hummed a quiet melody- a French lullaby she’d learned during her time studying there.

The two stayed there for a while, Anne wasn’t sure how much, just her and Lizzie in the medical bay as she tried to soothe her daughter as best as she could. She held her close, but not tightly, giving her ample of space to pull away if she needed to.

Eventually, Lizzie sniffled, then pulled away ever so slightly to instead rest her head on Anne’s shoulder. “Mama…” She mumbled, pressing herself as close as possible.

Anne leaned forward to kiss her forehead, still keeping her close. “I’m here, mon princesse. I’m right here.” She promised softly, lightly squeezing her shoulder to reinforce the message. “I’m right here.” She repeated, brushing some stray hair back to no avail.

Lizzie seemed like she was considering telling her something, but Anne didn’t press her, simply waiting while holding her close.

“There was this man.” Anne perked up slightly as Lizzie started talking, voice barely a whisper. “He touched me. Never… did that, though.” She choked up on the last word, and Anne immediately shushed her, burying the anger burning in her chest down for later. Lizzie came first.

For now, she just pulled the girl closer, and Lizzie let herself be held, and silence fell on them again, even if just for a moment.

“Mum?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?” Lizzie shifted to look at Anne, sniffling quietly as she wiped away tears. “What is this whole mess?”

Anne sighed, staring at the floor for a moment before looking up to face her. “I never wanted you to find out this way.” She began, voice oddly calm. “I’ve told you about your father, and how he wasn’t a good person. He’s… got a mafia, I suppose you could call it, but honestly it’s more of a network. ‘Bad person’ is honestly an understatement for him, he’s done a lot of bad stuff to get to where he is.”

“And, we’re Six. We’re an spy organization made by the government to take his mafia and any connections down. Aragon, you’ve met her, right?” Lizzie nodded, and Anne continued. “She’s the boss of this entire thing. She seems scary, but she cares a lot. Henry and her dated before this whole mess.” Anne chuckled lightly as Lizzie blinked in surprise. “Yeah, really.” She turned serious again. “Had a daughter and everything. She’s a couple years older than you. Really, I think she just wants to make sure her daughter stays safe and get revenge. Can’t blame her, that’s all I want too.” She sighed, kissing Lizzie’s forehead. “But I guess I kinda failed at that first bit, huh?”

“Is that why there’s so much security at home?” Anne nodded, and suddenly she felt Lizzie shift, leaning slightly up to kiss her forehead. “With all the measures you took, I’m honestly surprised they managed to do it. You did all you could. One mistake won’t mess everything up, remember.” Anne chuckled softly at Lizzie’s small, proud smirk while hearing her repeat what Anne herself had told her thousands of times.

“You’re very wise, sweetheart. I’m proud to be your mum.” She kissed the girl’s forehead, stopping for a moment. “Anything else you wanna ask about?”

“The other women that went to get me, why are they in this? And yes, that includes Kitty.”

“Well, Cleves is another one of his exes.” Lizzie raised an eyebrow, and Anne smirked a little. “He had six of them, and that’s only counting official relationships.” She nearly laughed as Lizzie’s eyes widened, but kept her composure. “She’s said before that she mostly wants to move on, but, and I quote,” she put on a terrible German accent, “‘I can’t just stand by while the asshole gets his way’. Kitty’s got the same motivation.”

“Wait wait wait, go back.” Lizzie interrupted, frowning. “Isn’t Kitty, like, nineteen? And isn’t Henry a fucking middle aged man?”

Anne hesitated, eventually sighing. “I’m not sure what the nature of their relationship is either, sweetheart. She never told me, and I didn’t want to press her. Even if she had, it’s not my place to tell you.” She explained, watching as Lizzie thought over these words, then nodded.

“And the other three, Grace, Courtney, and Vicki?”

“Extra agents. They’re the cream of the top, the ones we go to for the most important missions.” She noticed Lizzie raise an eyebrow, and nodded, waiting for her to speak.

“Why didn’t you come?”

Anne froze, hesitant to answer. “To figure out where you were, we had to track down quite a few people.” She explained, eyes trained on the floor. “I got reckless on the mission right before this one and, got hurt. Aragon didn’t let me go.” She paused for a moment, hesitant on adding more information. “Normally Kitty doesn’t go on the field, but Aragon figured it would be easier for you if there was a familiar face there.”

“Ah, so Aragon’s your classic ‘acts tough but is secretly soft’ kinda person?” Anne laughed as Lizzie’s comment, nodding.

“If she likes you, yeah. She has a soft spot for kids, I guess.” The two fell back into silence for a little, before Anne kissed the top of Lizzie’s head.

“Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll get you back home tomorrow. You’ve had a long day.” Lizzie nodded, and Anne stood up, still holding her, before setting her back on the bed. She watched as Lizzie curled the blanket up around her tightly, much like a cat, and chuckled softly before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

She sat back down on the edge of the bed, lightly carding her fingers through the girl’s hair as she quietly sung the same old french lullaby she’d been using with her her whole life. She watched as the girl’s breathing evened out, and lightly set her hand back on her lap, watching her for a moment.

She was disturbed by the door opening, quickly looking up to see Grace. “Your kid’s pretty tough, I’ll tell you that, Anne.” Grace began with a small smile, walking over. “Gets it from you.” Anne smiled at the (albeit indirect) compliment, but it quickly faded as Grace continued. “Aragon wants to talk to you. I’d hurry if I were you, she seemed a little antsy.”

Anne nodded, shooting one last look at Lizzie before standing up. “Thanks Grace. I’ll see you tomorrow, or something like that?”

“See you tomorrow, Anne.”

Anne shot her a quick smile and a goodbye, before leaving the medical bay and heading towards Aragon’s office.

Catherine sat at her desk, writing a report on the latest mission, when someone knocked on her door. She had a good guess as to who it was, so she set her pen down and looked up as to give them her full attention. “Come in.”

As expected, Anne Boleyn came in, and Catherine nodded as a greeting. “Sit down, this might take a while.” She raised an eyebrow when Boleyn chuckled, although she did follow her instructions.

“All business, as always, huh Aragon?” Catherine’s eyes narrowed, and for once Boleyn didn’t press any further, although taking into account the circumstances, she supposed that was to be expected. “Alright, fair enough. What did you want?”

“After, what happened to you and your daughter, I’ve been thinking.” Catherine began, keeping an eye on Boleyn to make sure she was paying attention. “What happened here was mostly a case of Elizabeth being on her own, correct?” Boleyn nodded, and Catherine continued.

“I believe it might be best if the six of us, and our children,” she paused, shifting her gaze towards the photo of Mary she kept in her desk for a moment, before shifting it back to Boleyn, “Moved into a joint house.”

Boleyn frowned at those words. “Aragon, I fail to understand how that would help us avoid further incidents like these. Wouldn’t that simply make it easier for Henry or his men to find us? And furthermore, you do realize that it takes quite a bit of negotiating and such to coexist in the same house. I’m just saying, with all due respect, this might not be the best idea.”

Catherine bit back a sigh- she’d expected this type of complaint. “I understand where you’re coming from, Boleyn. But a joint residence makes it easier for our organization to apply security measures, besides the ones the six of us might want to add ourselves.” She paused, hesitating on whether or not she should add this next part.

“And, I’d feel much more relaxed if I could keep a closer eye on all of you, and it’d also make contacting each other easier outside of a work setting.” She studied Boleyn as she thought over those words, but was surprised when she smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“So you do care about us!” Catherine glared at her, biting back a small smile of her own. She’s not wrong, she thought, but there’s no need to give her that satisfaction.

“Don’t push your luck, Boleyn. I’m still your boss.” She warned, although her tone was slightly softer than in previous occasions. “And to clarify, this is just a suggestion. I haven’t talked to the others about this just yet. So just, think it over, and keep your mind open to the possibility, yes?”

Boleyn nodded, and Catherine mimicked her. “Alright, is there anything you’d like to discuss?” She waited as Boleyn seemed to hesitate, before speaking.

“How did Kit- I mean, Katherine handle being on the field?” She asked, a uncommon nervousness to her tone as her fingers tapped on the desk restlessly. Catherine reached out, setting a hand on top of hers to stop her, before giving it a light squeeze and then pulling her hand back.

“She did fine. She stayed in the car throughout the mission, but as I’ve told you, I thought Elizabeth might like to have a familiar face there, and you were in no shape to be there so, that left her.” Boleyn nodded, pausing for a moment before speaking again.

“One more thing, and please be honest with me here, Catherine.” Catherine blinked at Boleyn’s sudden switch to her first name, leaning forward slightly. “Do you think Henry will be going after our children now?”

Catherine froze at that, hesitating as she thought over those words. “I can’t be sure, Anne.” She finally admitted, taking a quick breath. “You know how unpredictable he can be. But, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to do so.” She sighed. “That’s another reason I’d rather we all stuck together. Keeping an eye on them would be easier like that.”

She noticed Boleyn looking away, tensing ever so slightly, and she reached out to take her hand. “If you’d like to stay here with Elizabeth, I understand.”

Boleyn nodded, slipping her hand out of Catherine’s hold. “Thank you, Catherine, I’ll- I’ll take you up on that offer.” She stood up, turning to leave. “And, I’ll think about it. The shared house thing, I mean.”

Catherine nodded, watching as Boleyn left, then sighed to herself as she shifted her gaze to the photo on her desk. She stared at it for a while, she wasn’t sure how long, before reaching into her pocket for her personal phone, calling Mary.

As the phone rang, she looked at the clock. It was well past midnight, nearly 1 AM, so she doubted Mary would be up, but it wa-

“Hello?” Well, never mind that.

“Hello mi princesita.” She smiled a little to herself at the nickname, and also at hearing her daughter’s voice. “You’re up awfully late, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Her voice sounded tired, and Catherine frowned at that. “I just couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go and catch up on some assignments. They’re not due in a while, but still. Why’d you call?”

Catherine hesitated at that, unsure of how to answer. “Just… something happened at work, and I decided to check on you.” She paused. “And also I missed you.” She added, slightly more quiet.

“Missed you too, mum.” She heard a yawn over the phone. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I’m not sure about soon, but tonight, yeah. Hopefully in…” She glanced at the paperwork she’d been working on, then at the clock, and then paused to consider her options. “Actually, I’m gonna start packing up now. I’ll be there in, thirty minutes or so.

“Sounds go-” She was cut off by a yawn. “Sounds good. So, see you then?”

“See you then, mi princesita. Te amo.”

“También te amo, mamá.” The two stayed in silence for a moment, and then there was a click, indicating the end of the call. Catherine sighed. She’d have to work twice as fast tomorrow if she wanted to finish everything on time, but she hadn’t seen Mary in nearly two days now. Common as it was, it didn’t make it any easier. Still, Catherine had to wonder if it was the right decision

Silently, she began packing her stuff up, listening as she heard other agents say their goodbyes. Once she was ready to go, she spared one more glance towards the photo, before heading out.

On her way out, however, she passed the medical bay. She stopped at the entrance, then quietly opened the door and peeked in. She was met with Anne, asleep on a chair next to one of the beds, the one where Elizabeth was laying, also sleeping. Catherine watched the scene for a moment, then smiled softly to herself and closed the door just as quietly as she had opened it, continuing to make her way out.

Yes, she thought as she left the building, I made the right decision.

[mangsluts]

A little help

A little help?

A Jooheon Monsta X Fic

Rated: M

Mafia!AU

Contains: Graphic sex, thigh kink, daddy kink, oral, cursing

Description: Having the mafia watch your back at all times doesn’t come with a cheap price. You’re forever in debt to them, and when one of the best assassins, Lee Jooheon wants a little help relieving his stress from a hard day on the job, what could you do?

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

As cheesy as it sounds, you didn’t choose the mafia life, the mafia life chose you. Living in a bad part of town by yourself is never a good idea, but what’s a girl living on her own supposed to do?

Working two jobs to make ends meet had you dead tired all the time, and the walk from your night job at a late night sushi restaurant could nearly kill you alone.

One specific night you had closed work a little later than usual since a few customers just wouldn’t leave.

It was about 3 am as you locked up the shop and began the ten minute trudge back to your apartment.

The soft pat of your work sneakers against the wet pavement below you was the only sound on this particularly still night, until-

“GET BACK HERE MOTHERFUCKER!”

A door in the small alleyway burst open, and the loud sound of firing guns matched with the light from the barrage of bullets suddenly filled the just previously empty air. Five men in matching pinstripe suits sprinted out of the hole in the wall building, one of them with a suitcase in hand which he seemed to be protecting with his life. They were all laughing and hollering while dodging bullets, turning back every once in a while to shoot back at their assailients. After running down the length of the alley to the end where you were standing frozen in place, they finally noticed you.

“Shit.” One of them mumbled, but was cut off by the sound of tires screeching behind you. A large black van had just peeled into the alley behind you, with the back door swung open and ready for their escape. There were two guys in the van; one in the front with a mask on, driving the van, and one in the back waiting for everyone else to get in so he could slam the door shut. He saw you standing there slack jawed and pulled down the bandana that was covering his face.

“Guys what the fuck is this?” The lean blond complained, motioning to you.

“Not our problem, that’s what it is.” A taller man with pinkish hair replied back as he climbed into the van, seeing as the people they had just stolen from were running their direction.

Everyone piled into the van as the other men closed the distance between each other, and here you were still standing there frozen, apartment key in hand.

A big ugly man who stank of cigars and had a gold tooth right on one of his front teeth saw you and smirked mischievously.

“What do we have here? You take something of ours, we take something of yours!” He yelled out in a raspy voice and reached out for you, your body finally reacting to what was happening, and you shrieked, trying to avoid his grip.

“She’s not ours we just- Oh for fucks sake!” One of the young men in the van, with copper blonde hair styled upwards and small crescent eyes groaned and reached out of the van, grabbed you by the back of your shirt and hoisted you into the van with them, which was immediately slammed shut by the blonde and the tires screeched as the van sped out of the alleyway and through a shortcut at ungodly speeds until the driver determined it was safe to slow down.

You sat there for a while in the van, nobody saying, but the air was thick with uneasiness.

“You’re an accessory now, you hear that?” The man who had saved you said between gritted teeth.

“You’re just… A girl. And now it’s unsafe for you to be around here. You need to leave.” He explained

“I have nowhere to go. Or any money.” You stated back, your voice wavering.

His small eyes looked you up and down, then closed. He looked back at everyone else, who looked equally torn.

“Okay. Listen to me. You’re with us now. Whether you like it or not. We’ll protect you, and you can stay with us. But you can never tell anyone about us, or that you know us at all. And we’ll find stuff for you to do in return for us protecting you. Capiche?” He took the jacket of his suit off, and you saw his muscular build under his white button up.

Sure, being involved in the mafia was bad. But your living situation at the moment wasn’t exactly anything you wanted to go back to. And what choice did you have?

With all their eyes staring at you, you took a deep breath and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll do whatever you want. Just uh, don’t let me die.” You tried to be lighthearted, but no one was laughing.

“Deal.” Your savior turned around,

“Wait!”

He looked back at you, those hooded eyes burning holes into your soul.

“I, uh, never got your name.”

He looked at you for a moment, as if questioning if he should give it to you.

“Jooheon.”

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

{PRESENT DAY}

It’s been a year since you met the mafia who liked to call themselves, “Monsta X” and honestly, things were going well. You didn’t have to work, or do anything scary or dangerous-that’s what the boys were for. In return for homing and protection, you did all the mundane tasks that they didn’t want to do, which you didn’t mind. You were kind of like their personal maid who occasionally polished and loaded their guns for them, or helped them find out which poison was the least detectable.

You know, regular maid activities.

You did everything for these seven men, and you were fine with it.

But Jooheon.

Jooheon got special treatment from you.

Ever since that day he rescued you from getting killed by those other mob members, you always had sort of a… ‘thing’ for him.

And maybe he had a thing for you too, but no one would dare admit it.

It started out with you sometimes giving a shoulder massage after a long mission, cooking him his favorite food, offering your bedroom to him so he wouldn’t have to sleep with one of the other guys.

But then it became more.

A massage became a hug, a hug became a kiss, a kiss became a blowjob.

You know how it goes.

But it was strictly “helping him out” after a mission. He would just be so stressed out and high strung after going out, you figured it was only right to help him let off some steam when he came home.

And of course you liked it. He was hot as fuck.

-

You were sitting on the couch in the dimly lit living room when the front door swung open. Since no one was home, and they weren’t supposed to be back for at least a day, you instinctively grabbed the handgun the boys gave you and raised it, standing up into a defensive position.

“Easy there, it’s just me.” That familiar voice calmed your nerves immediately, and you set the gun back on the side table, sighing with relief.

“Jeeze, you couldn’t have given me a warning? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You then noticed the patched up wound on his shoulder and went directly into worried mom mode

“Holy shit, what happened!” You ran over to him, closed to door behind him and led him to sit down on the couch. He furiously tried swatting your hands away, but you were persistent.

“Stop, it’s nothing. Small bullet wound. Nothing serious, but the boys figured I should sit the rest of this one out.” His words were reassuring, but you could tell in his voice that he was really pissed off to be sitting a mission out. He never didn’t contribute, and seeing him fuming like this was a little nerve wracking.

“I need to let off some steam or something. I’m going to the gym.” He stated coldly and tried getting up, but you put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

“Like hell you are. You have a fucking bullet wound on your shoulder. Weight lifting doesn’t solve all your problems you know.” You said sarcastically and watched as he over dramatically rolled his eyes, his whole neck following, before his gaze met you again. His pink lips slowly pulled into a smirk, revealing one of his deep cheek dimples that you so adored.

“What?” You asked, arms crossed. At this point you were standing, blocking him from leaving the couch. He was sitting on the black leather couch, legs spread wide in the classic fuckboy stance, arms laid across the back of the couch, basically asking you to just take him.

You gazed down at his legs, which were tightly fit into a pair of black jeans that seemed a little bit too small for him. The seams around his thighs were practically bursting due to his thick thighs occupying them. Okay, maybe you had a thing for his thighs, but who wouldn’t ? They were so perfectly muscular and just begging you to sit on them.

Breaking you from your thoughts of his thighs, he suddenly sat upright and grabbed the collar of your shirt, tugging you down to his level.

“Well, I’m gonna have to get rid of this anger somehow don’t you think.” He lifted one perfectly angular eyebrow.

“Think you can help me with that?” His usually high voice was straining at a low gutteral pitch, which had you absolutely fucking soaked already.

“Yes, daddy.” You replied, and could see his member fighting against his pants.

“Fuck, It’s so hot when you call me that.” He bit his bottom lip and stood up, unbuckling his pants and pulling them off his legs-which took some effort considering how tightly his thighs were stuffed in there. Seeing them finally revealed had your mouth watering, and when he slid his boxers off to show off his completely hardened member already leaking with precum, you found yourself already on your knees for him without even knowing.

“You wanted this didn’t you? You were hoping I would come home and fuck you?”

His dirty talk was causing your pussy to throb in anticipation, but you knew you had to please him a little before it was your turn, so you squeezed your thighs together and looked up at him erotically, wrapping your fingers around his shaft slowly, one finger after the other.

Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your lips around the wet tip of his dick, and sucked it lightly.

You two hadn’t done this for a while, so just this act was already driving him crazy.

Teasingly, you swished your tongue all around his head, looking right into his eyes.

“Fuck, (y/n) just take it.” He groaned, grabbing the back of your head and shoving your head forwards, onto his long cock. You nearly choked at the suddenness, but quickly accustomed yourself to his length, bobbing along his shaft at a steady pace.

Your lips slid back and forth on his member, the tip slamming into the back of your throat as he thrusted lightly every time you took it deep into your mouth.

“I want your pussy, baby. Take them off.” He had grabbed you by a fistful of your hair and pulled you off his dick. At the request, you eagerly obliged, stripping yourself of the useless clothes.

While you were getting ready, Jooheon had slipped a condom on, and was readily awaiting you.

You looked at him, his lovely face, little eyes, heart shaped mouth, his broad shoulders. God, he was perfect.

Unable to control yourself, you threw yourself onto him, careful to avoid his right shoulder and kissed him roughly, your tongue not asking permission to enter his mouth, but demanding it. You could feel his mouth smirking against yours.

He grabbed you by the waist and tossed you gently onto the couch, where he immediately joined you, eagerly hovering above you.

He grabbed both of your legs and bent them so that your knees were by your stomach, spreading you open for him.

He took one look at your wet pussy and licked his lips, then looked back at you, leaning closer and closer. You could feel the presence of his member so close to your entrance, and you ached for it.

“Tell me how you want it.” He whispered into your ear,

You leaned up to meet his ear and whispered back

“I want you to fuck me rough, daddy.”

This got him fired up, and he very quickly lined himself up with your entrance, and eased his way in slowly. Your tight walls stretched at his big size as they always did, and contracted around his member, earning an early moan from him.

“You’re always so tight.” He said with that god damn dimpled smirk, making you wetter, and allowing easier access for him to slide into you.

Almost instantly, his pace quickened, and he began pounding you roughly, just as he had promised.

From this position, he held both of your legs down at your side, whilst sitting on his knees. He lifted you up onto his lap a little bit to hit you at an angle, because he knew that’s how you liked it.

His hips thrusted in circular motions, making sure he got every inch of himself buried deeply into you, and never missing a beat. His thrusts were like a metronome that got stuck on a setting that was way too fast, and it was absolutely destroying you.

He was hitting you so good that you could barely keep your eyes open, just helplessly moaning out his name while Jooheon gripped his fingers tightly around your thighs and pounded into you, his full length coming out and repeatedly slamming back into your dripping entrance, hitting that spot just right.

“Jooheon, I think I’m gonna-” You mewled out, but he shut you up by shoving three fingers into your open mouth. You were surprised, but complied happily and sucked longingly on his fingers, leaving a thin trail of spit as he pulled the digits out of your mouth and brought them down to your engorged pussy.

As if the pounding wasn’t enough, he took his three wet fingers and rubbed your clit in harsh circles, making sure he was pressing down hard on the bud, sending those nerves all the way from your clit to your spine, and down to your toes. You could feel him in every part of your body, and soon, the sensation took over you, and the tingling started in your stomach.

“Jooheon I really am-”

Hearing that you were gonna cum, Jooheon pulled your legs up, set them on his shoulders-ignoring the pain in his right one from the bullet wound- and leaned into you, pounding you as deep as he could.

You moaned out loudly, feeling your climax take over your whole body. Your slick walls tightened and quivered around his dick, and your nails scratched fiercely down Jooheon’s muscular back.

Hearing you finish, and feeling the lovely sensation of you tightening around him, Jooheon allowed himself to climax as well, sweat dripping off his forehead.

After finishing, he rolled off of you, your sweaty bodies slightly stuck together from the perspiration, and panted heavily.

He looked at you, and showed off that dimpled smile.

“Well, my shoulder hurts like shit, but I feel a lot better.”

You laughed

“I’m always here to lend a little help.”

[themillieanderson-blog]

My Creative Collaborative Project

Initial ideas and creating “Combined”

When embarking on this project, my group was initially much smaller, consisting of just three members (Victoria, Oliver and myself). After brainstorming, our initial ideas were to create a party themed piece of film like a music video, to show the more fun and social side of dance. However, as we progressed further with the process, we struggled to continue as a three. Our ideas were limited and to create the party atmosphere that we hoped for proved difficult with only three members in the group. It came to our attention that another group was struggling with a similar situation. It seemed ideal at the time to combine groups as many of their goals and ideas were similar to ours. They were focusing on how dancers can often use dance as an escape from what might be going on around them in other aspects of their life. Although the industry can be a competitive and a confidence lowering place, we wanted to focus on the complete opposite side of it and remind ourselves and our audience why we and so many others love it.  Therefore, we joined groups and created “Combined” (Victoria, Oliver, Ben, Adrienne, Rose, Eloise and myself). This immediately appeared to solve our initial problems, helping us to proceed with the flow of creative ideas and also opened up more possibilities due to the larger group. 

 Working as a larger group

It was not difficult to merge the groups as our concepts were very similar and we were able to combine our thoughts and ideas to create a vision for a piece that we were all happy with. The members of the group that we had combined with are all from the musical theatre pathway, and therefore they wished to bring their music skills and knowledge to the piece. Adrianne had been working on an original song that had a similar inspiration and message to our ideas. The song was about having someone or something to pick you up when you are down and, in this instance, we could relate this to our idea of dance being an escape from other issues people may be experiencing in everyday life. We decided to stick with our initial idea of a music video and as a group we decided that we wanted to make the choreography quite hip hop based as the song is very upbeat and pop influenced.

 Creative process and inspiration

In the early stages of developing the piece, we liked to put all our ideas into mind maps and story boards on a big white board. It quickly became clear to us that we wanted three main characters, each with a different issue going on at home and through the story to show how they all come together at the end and are able to escape from their worries and problems for a little while through dance. I thought it would be a good idea to start the video right from the beginning of their day when they wake up, as I know that if I have a worry or concern it is always the first thing I think of as soon as my alarm goes off. We decided to film the three characters in the same house and doing the exact same things as it highlights the fact that they are all experiencing similar situations, and although they are different people, they are not alone in their problems. Using a split screen helped  to emphasise this.  

 To strengthen the idea of dancing being an escape and having a positive influence on people’s life’s we continued to look at the party atmosphere and vibes that we wanted to create. We decided on having a big fun section of choreography (choreographed by Oliver) to the chorus of the song, where everyone comes together to dance, party and have fun. To create the feel-good party atmosphere that we needed, we took inspiration from a few music videos that we believe create a similar feel. These videos were- “Love on Top” by Beyoncé (Beyoncé, 2011) and “It’s My Party” by Jessie J (Jessie J, 2013). Another piece of inspiration that we took was from the quote- “Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you are perfectly free.” (Barks & Moyne, 2012)

This quote comes from a translated poem, originally written in Persian by Rumi. Rumi was a 13th-century Persian Muslim poet, and lots of his work has been translated from Persian into many world-wide languages (Awaken, no date)

We took from this that dance could be the answer to all problems and situations that we find our selves in as humans. It might not solve the problem or get you out of a situation, however, it will allow you time to help figure it out or escape from what’s going on, and sometimes that’s all we need.

Before it came to filming, we needed to decide on location and costume. We decided to film the opening scene in a bedroom as the characters wake up, we needed a room that had good natural lighting and after analysing our options, we collectively decided that Ben’s room was most appropriate. We then decided to film the second part in college as it is a place that links everyone together much like our reoccurring theme of dance linking everyone together. Victoria came up with the idea of everyone wearing something denim as it is quite plain, uniformed and would look good as a collective for the party themed section of the video. I also came up with the concept that everyone has and owns something denim, which also helps to convey our theme of everyone having dance to bring us together; it’s something we all have in common. 

Some of our story boards and mind maps from the early development stages:

 Filming difficulties

Prior to this point in our creative process the majority of producing work had run quite smoothly as there had been very little disputes and having a larger group meant we had lots of ideas and skills to work with. However, as we began the filming process, we started to experience difficulties. We planned to film the video in two shoots as we had two main locations. The first part of the video was filmed and edited easily, as we had planned well in advance what date we were filming and who was going to be involved with what. Nevertheless, when we came to film the second part which was the party section where everyone was supposed to be involved in, we experienced difficulties. Some people in the group couldn’t make it at short notice and others didn’t turn up. This was unfortunate for those of us who did turn up as some of us had taken time off work specifically to film. We did arrange the filming date really far in advance so everyone had plenty of notice, but for those of us who were there, we used the time to work on the choreography instead. We then had to delay and film much later in the schedule, which meant that we had less time to film as we had to get it all done it one evening after class.

The initial idea was to shoot some shots outside that day when it was light, however, these had to be cut due to the rescheduling to the evening. This rescheduling also caused difficulties for Rose who was filming and editing the piece, because this meant that she had less time to edit the video the way she had planned to and added extra pressure to her role.

Eloise was unfortunately ill on the day that we filmed the “party” section, and even though she was one of the three main characters in the first section of the video, we made the group decision to go ahead and film without her and I stepped in and played her role in a few shots. The switching of actors did nothing for continuity and will add a little confusion for the viewer. At the time we made the decision, it seemed like the logical thing to do as we wanted to have a finished product on time and had already had one delay. We also had imagined the “party” section to have a lot more dancers than we did. When we advertised that we needed extra dancers, it was probably too short notice as we had little interest from people.

Whilst filming in Arts Depot we were approached by a member of staff who said if we wanted to continue filming, we would have to fill out a form called a ‘Film Permit Application’. We had not considered that this would be necessary, and thankfully they were very relaxed about it but if we had been somewhere else, they may have been much less understanding which would have caused complications. In future, we would have to consider allocating a location manager in future to organise this kind of details, and to avoid complications.

Below is a photo of the Film Permit Application that we had to fill out-

My Contribution

Our project was very much a group project, although a few people fitted in specific roles like Oliver as the choreographer and Rose as the videographer/editor; they had more experience in those roles and it seemed fitting. There was no real leader and no one was overbearing, at times different people took charge if they had an idea and we all allowed each other to voice opinions. We didn’t really distribute strict roles, which was risky but it meant that no one was worried about stepping on each other’s toes and were able to give opinions and ideas about all aspects of the piece. This approach worked well in the end and it really reflected our group name “combined” as it was a combined effort. Personally, I am quite a shy person and would usually take a step back and be scared to contribute ideas and opinions in a group project, however I enjoyed giving an input and building my confidence to have my ideas heard, specifically in the initial ideas and creative process stages of the piece development and also during filming. I believe that although we experienced some difficulties and complications that may have affected the final product, meaning that it is not exactly as we had imagined it, we have created a music video that we are all happy with.

 Message to the audience

We believe that the dance world has a reputation that it can be a very stressful and confidence knocking place, and behind all the glitz and glam there is a brutal side with negative connotations. We want to remind ourselves and the audience that many people use dance as a way of escaping and finding a sense of belonging. We want the audience to understand that dance can act as a support system for people experiencing non-dance related problems in their everyday life. Whether their issues are big or small, it doesn’t matter because dance brings everyone together and although we may not know it, we are all going through similar things under the surface. We are stripping back dance to its routes and presenting the social and enjoyment side.

 Bibliography

Awaken. (No date) Rumi. [Internet] Available from: http://www.awaken.com/2013/02/rumi-2/ [Accessed: 12 March 2019]

 Barks & Moyne. (2012) Dance, when you’re broken open. [Internet] Available from: http://andylal.blogspot.com/2012/06/dance-when-youre-broken-openby-rumi.html [Acessed: 12 March 2019]

 Beyoncé. (2011) Beyoncé- Love on top. [Internet] Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ob7vObnFUJc [Accessed: 12 March 2019]

 J, Jessie. (2013) _Jessie J- It’s my Party. _[Internet] Available from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59caVlKNNEQ [Accessed: 12 March 2019]

[drizzys-selfship-sea]

-rises from hell- hey can ya do Asahi with all the s/i questions

//sticks out my leg 

>:3

⭐️ What’s their Ultimate/SHSL?

-Ultimate Daydreamer!

-Asahi’s mind works 24/7 nonstop, but when she lets it do what it wants, it can come up with some hecking wild things.

👥 Which Protag would they get along best with?

-I can see her getting along at least decently with all of the protags, honestly (except for maaaaybe Komaru?)

-But as it stands, she’s good friends with Shuichi.

-Asahi really wants to see him succeed and become someone worthy of his title, especially since she has some insecurities about her own talent too (”yeah, I come up with ideas, so what? How important is that, really?”)

-So, she’s willing to offer encouragement or advice or just be someone to talk to who can relate to his problems quite heavily.

-The two of them bounce ideas back-and-forth about how the school works or during investigations.

-She also likes to run ideas in general by Shuichi when she wants a serious second opinion.

🗒 What are their introduction lines?

-”I’m Asahi Kuroki, and if hating reality is what makes me the Ultimate Daydreamer, then I guess that’s what I am.”

🤔 What’s the first thing the protag(s) would point out about them (bonus points if you specify the protag)?

-First thing that sticks out about Asahi is that she hates being interrupted.

-When Kaede and Shuichi find her, she’s running laps around the school.

-She thinks best when she’s in motion, so she’s running laps to try to kickstart her brain into figuring out what’s going on (and also to get any nervous jitters out of her system).

-When she’s eventually caught up with and stopped by the pair, she immediately becomes very grouchy.

-She does mellow out fast, though, and just goes right back to running once the conversation’s done.

-So the second thing to note about her would be that she gives off conflicting signals.

-Like she never seems to know what emotion to feel at any given time.

💕Which character(s) would they spend more time with (Give at least three to choose from, other self inserts are always allowed)?

-For the entire first chapter, she’s practically glued onto Rantaro because he radiates “good older brother” vibes and Asahi has a space in her life waiting for someone like that. 

-After the first trial, Asahi checks up on Shuichi a lot and ends up befriending him, so they end up spending a decent amount of time together.

-Asahi also ends up growing attached to Angie because of their mutual interest in art. They talk a lot about creative things and sketch together sometimes!

-Over the entire game, though? She spends the most time with Kokichi.

-At first she’s just trying to keep an eye on him, but eventually she ends up becoming his assistant when things get real nasty.

🎁 Name an item (made up or canon) that they would like for a FTE.

-(I went through the entire list of items that v3 has so I’m gonna list multiple)

-Ketchup (Asahi has always wanted to chug ketchup straight from the bottle for some ungodly reason)

-Sketchbook (she could always use more of these considering how fast she burns through them).

-Teddy bear (She likes soft and cute things)

-High-end headphones (all she wants to do in her free time is block out the world)

-Book of the blackened (Despite liking cute things, Asahi also loves really dark and sinister things)

🥇FTE! What’s their first Free Time Event like?

-Asahi comes up with a new idea and really really wants to talk about it, but she doesn’t want to bother anyone.

-So, she just is generally ten times more fidgety than normal, not being able to hide this desire very well because she never hides anything very well.

-Shuichi finally bites the bullet and asks her what’s on her mind, and she admits that she came up with something she’s proud of and asks if he wants to hear about it (almost desperately).

-Not knowing what else to do, Shuichi agrees, and Asahi proceeds to spend almost an entire hour describing the new world she’s built and the characters that live in it so far.

-After she’s done, she’ll ask Shuichi his thoughts on it, and the answer choices are that he hated it, likes it, or really likes it (the last of the three being the best option).

-Asahi will express relief that he liked what she came up with, absolutely adoring the validation and asking if he wants to know about any further changes to this world, and he’ll say sure. 

🏵 FTE! What’s their last Free Time Event like?

-Asahi’s free time event journey is all about coming to terms with the world outside, as she actually wouldn’t mind staying in the Academy because she just doesn’t think the outside is for her.

-Her final free time event is her trying to thank Shuichi for all his advice and help, and just listening to her in general.

-She tells him that she came up with a new idea, specifically for a character that lives in the world she told him about in the first free time event.

-She describes the character as being very confused at heart, being constantly turned-around and not knowing what to do with herself or how to interact with others.

-She says that this character hid so far into her own head that her dreams twisted into nightmares, leaving her stuck with physical monsters that she managed to make bend to her whim.

-This character, while feeling rather scattered in her own head, believed that at least this was better than the outside.

-But someone ended up finding her and helped her leave her supposed safe place to confront the world she couldn’t run from.

-Again, Asahi asks for Shuichi’s thoughts, and he can either say that he hated it, liked it, or bring up that the character reminds him of her (the third one is, again, the best option).

-Asahi confirms that yes, this character is meant to represent her.

-”I might still not want to deal with the real world…but I feel a bit more ready to handle it now. Thanks, Shuichi, really. Let’s get out together, eh?”

🎭 What’s listed as their likes/dislikes?

-Likes: Validation

-Dislikes: Being interrupted

☠️ A body has been found! What’s their initial reaction?

-Asahi usually tries to put her brain to work immediately.

-If she has time, she’ll slip out to grab her sketchbook and write notes.

-She knows this is a life-or-death situation, so her mind usually complies with her and her emotions sort of…switch off.

-Unless she was close to the victim, that is. Then it’ll be a bit rougher.

☝️ Anything specific they’d point out in a class trial? Do they stay on topic?

-Asahi is actually quite timid in the trials, not speaking up unless she feels like she NEEDS to.

-The constant back-and-forth and arguing stress her out and can make her head hurt.

-Needless to say, Asahi tries to stay on-topic as much as she can because she wants her contributions to be important.

-As the game goes on, she’ll even try to actively keep the trial on-topic and start speaking out more.

-The stuff she brings up are usually pieces that can either be used as a base for more spot-on lines of reasoning or are correct in one way or another.

😨 __________ has been found guilty! What’s their reaction (Specify character, it doesn’t have to be canon)?

-(Winter here hit me up in the DMs and told me to just use canon chapter 5 as reference for this one, so here we go).

-The entire trial is rough for Asahi, and when Kaito’s found out to be the guilty party, she gets hit with a million different emotions at one time.

-As time went on during the game, she began to think it was less and less likely that he’d ever kill anyone.

-But, knowing the circumstances, this made too much sense to her, and dangit it hurts.

-She didn’t really have any attachment to Kaito besides a lowkey admiration for his encouraging attitude, and she can’t exactly say she’s too surprised, so it’s more who the victim is that leaves her unable to function.

-She can’t really blame Kaito for the murder because he was forced into doing it, so she just can’t be too mad at him (it’s Maki who makes her angry).

-This entire trial is just so taxing for her tbh.

💔 What do they do after a trial/execution? Do they do anything at all?

-Asahi usually likes being alone after trials.

-She shuts herself in her room and paces, trying to dream her anxieties away.

-Once her research lab is opened, she goes there after the trials. 

-Delving into the world of fantasy when real life went bad was always a big comfort for her.

💉 Despair AU! What are they like in Despair/ infected with the Despair disease?

-Asahi actually doesn’t change too much.

-She’s always been a little screwed up, but she always directed that screwed-upness into her stories, specifically towards her fictional characters.

-Now, she treats all those around her like simple characters in a story that she’s the author for.

-Others aren’t much more than playthings to her.

-And she looooves torturing her playthings~

💎 Would they join any clubs/gangs? Which one(s)?

-Asahi honestly doesn’t have any interest in group activities.

-Her imaginary world is her everything, so she refuses to give control of it to anyone else.

-She just plain old doesn’t work well with others, so she does her own thing. Clubs don’t appeal to her.

-(Plus that would mean human interaction and she’s a bit hesitant to get involved with that).

☀️ Non!Despair AU! What’s their daily life as an ultimate like?

-In a Non!Despair AU, Asahi would likely be isolated on most days.

-Interacting with people face-to-face is hard and she always feels like she’s annoying everyone around her, so she just tries to keep to herself and the few people she decides that she likes.

-She’d be very active online because it’s just easier to interact with people over the internet for her.

-But otherwise, she’s a shut-in.

-She will go out sometimes if she’s feeling social or particularly grounded!

-But usually, any free time she gets is usually devoted to thinking up new ideas.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Comfort

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Ambrose/Omega!Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: How about a Thirst Party Saturday...Wednesday pick-me-up? I was thinking an Office!AU, with that sweet, sweet Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamic we all know and love. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and of course, the campaigner for all things LaBraun, @hardcorewwetrash!

Enjoy!

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains threats of rape, musings on consent and general manhandling. Stay safe everyone!]

You knew that you probably should have stayed home today.

Suppressants were expensive and you had the sneaking suspicion that your script had been cut to begin with. You hadn’t felt right for months. But your doctor always dismissed your concerns as Omega paranoia and you didn’t want to make your visits any more difficult, so you just put your head down and accepted the reports without complaint.

You were very lucky after all, you had to remind yourself. Getting hired into an office setting while being an Omega was no easy task, but you’d managed to pick up some runner work that would get your foot in the door over at King’s Game Enterprises. It was only small things for the moment and you’d had to sign a waiver before you started stating that you would keep up with your dosages or face immediate termination, so you couldn’t exactly afford to have your prescription cut with sugar pills. But you had this unshakable feeling of restlessness while making your morning commute. You were tense and tight, as though you were about to jump out of your skin at any given second.

In a burst of desperation, you decided to be honest with your boss about your situation. There was an off chance that maybe, he might understand and send you home early. His wife was an Omega and he treated her like an equal.

Maybe it’ll be okay.

You gathered up their coffee orders and a few files from Alicia, then squared your shoulders and headed for Hunter’s office. Please don’t fire me, you begged mentally. Please please please.

You heard the office door click open before you were halfway down the hall and Stephanie poked her head out. “Alright, move it.” She said, not unkindly. “Smelled you a mile away.” Your heart sank. They know. She at least waited until she’d closed the office door behind you before she started in on you. “Did you not understand the paperwork you signed? Because I can find someone to explain it to you. In perfect detail.”

You bowed your head meekly and pressed her coffee into her hands. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t exactly the equivalent of coming in with a sore throat, but I don’t have any sick days saved up yet. I didn’t know what else to do, ma’am, I need this job so much.” You kept your eyes on the floor, blinking back tears. “I wanted to ask if…if maybe Mr. Hunter could send me home. Or even you, if you have that authority. I know it’s dangerous for me to be out and about like this, I swear I didn’t skip a dose. I-I take my meds, always, but I don’t feel right today and I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“I’ll get Hunter in here. You sit down.” Stephanie clicked her tongue. “Your script get swapped? Did they put you on the generic?”

“My doctor doesn’t give me my scripts, he calls them in himself. He says it’s too dangerous to have an Omega walking around with an unfilled script.” A tear slipped out and you quickly wiped it away, irritated with yourself. Stupid suppressants!

There was a loud knock on the office door and then it was shoved open, the person on the other side not even waiting for acknowledgment. “Heya’ boss one, is boss two he…” The person, a man with a mop of unruly sandy-blond hair, ground to a halt. His nose twitched.

“Perfect timing Ambrose, as ever. Hunter already call you?”

“Y…yeah.” Ambrose said slowly. He shook himself all over. “Whew, sorry. I’m back.”

“Wonderful, I’m so glad Seth is teaching you to be prompt.” Stephanie turned back to you, gesturing at Ambrose. “Dean is one of our Omega therapy Alphas. It’s a new program that some of the higher-ups initiated for the safety and comfort of people like you and me.”

“Basically we’re here to keep you okay.” Dean explained simply. He radiated calm Alpha scent, the new fragrance washing away your terror at being fired.

“We?” You asked in confusion.

Another knock sounded on the door and Ambrose moved to open it, revealing two more men. The Alpha smell, which was heady enough in the room from Dean alone, instantly thickened. Your stomach filled with warmth and you gasped for breath, dimly aware that Stephanie was saying something. Seth. Roman.

Mr. Hunter’s hand was suddenly tilting your chin up. “You still in there, kid?” Hunter Helmsley was the epitome of mated Alpha, broad-shouldered and confident in his own skin. You could see why Stephanie adored him.

You barely had the mental capacity to shake your head. “I don’t feel well, sir.” Your voice was a trembling whisper.

“It’s alright. That’s why our boys are here. Can you make it to lunch time? Two hours.” Hunter glanced at the clock. “Then, it’s only half a shift missed instead of a full one.”

Two hours. Two hours. You nodded dumbly. You could do whatever this Alpha asked. You were a good Omega.

Hunter chuckled. “Alright. The boys are going to escort you to our Omega office, okay? Scent-dampening walls like mine. We need to keep you under wraps until this calms down. You may want to talk with your physician as well, figure out what he gave you.”

“Not the right amount. He won’t listen to me.” You breathed.

“He’ll listen to Dean.” That was one of the other Alphas, but was it Roman or Seth? Seth or Roman?

“Our Alpha partner program can also accompany you to appointments, if necessary.” Hunter added gently. “They’re here to make things easier.”

The idea of having a strong, secure Alpha with you in the doctor’s office made your chest ache with longing. You whined without meaning to, blushing and covering your mouth. “Sorry, I just…”

“Don’t apologize, Omega. We understand.” Seth (or was it Roman?) took your hand, sending tingles through to your fingertips. “C’mon, before everyone in the building is banging on Hunter’s door.”

Roman (or was it Seth?) opened the door for you, making you flush even hotter than before. Normally only mates were offered the courtesy of having a door held for them. Dean came up on the other side of you, the two Alphas flanking you in the hallway while the third brought up the rear.

You finally got up the courage to whisper, “Are you Seth or Roman?” to the dark-haired man at your side.

“He’s Seth, I’m Roman.” The young man behind you answered, making you glance over your shoulder to look at him. He gave you a small smile, as though he was doing his best to soften his hard features. “Roman Reigns, Alpha at your service.”

“Um, no offense to any of you but…why were you guys picked for this?” You asked awkwardly.

“Even temperament, mostly.” Roman replied, shrugging.

“I don’t get nuts around Omegas. Hormone imbalances.” Dean said shortly.

“And I’m too smart to lose my cool.” Seth added smugly. “We aren’t like those other Alphas, butting heads over a piece of ass.”

“Rollins.” Roman’s tone held a sharp note of warning.

“Sorry, sorry. Not to imply that you’re a piece of ass or anything.” Seth apologized hastily. “You’re an Omega, and an Omega that doesn’t want to sit at home and do nothing! Pretty rare.”

“Sitting around is only good until the bills need to be paid.” You commented dryly. “Wait, how am I supposed to do my job if I have to-”

“Ambrose is going to be with you when you’re running errands, okay?” Seth murmured, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not ideal, I know, the space in here is kinda’ tight. But if something happens while you’re in our care, Hunter will eat us alive.”

Dean opened the door to the Omega office and stepped in, gesturing for you to follow. “C’mon, let’s sit you down for a minute. How you feeling? Doing okay?” He asked kindly, touching your forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t feel fevery.”

“I’m just nervous, mostly. Restless. Like it’s hard to breathe. I mean, it’s not actually hard to breathe, but like how you feel when it is?” You fumbled to explain. “Chest is kind of tight.”

Roman had pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket, the well-built Alpha turning to a fresh page before clicking his pen. “Can I get the name of your primary care physician, and a rough estimate of how long he’s been cutting your medication? Mr. Helmsley will need it for your file.”

“Oh, b-but I have no proof-”

“Your body is out of sync. Unless Hunter--er, I mean, Mr. Helmsley, has put you under a significant amount of stress, there’s no logical reason for you to be feeling like your lungs are too small.” Seth raised an eyebrow. “I doubt you have anything going on outside of work that could contribute to the level of discomfort you’re dealing with. Shortness of breath is a pretty common complaint in Omegas once their meds are switched.”

“According to my primary, every complaint is a common complaint for someone like me.” The statement came out more bitter than you intended and you grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, this is good information to have. With your consent, Dean will accompany you on your next appointment.” Roman continued to write for a moment, before clearing his throat. “Ah, when is your next appointment?”

“I had made an emergency one for tomorrow, a cancellation happened and I picked up the slot. Waste of a day off, but I was really hoping to talk some sense into the doctor.” You said weakly. “Or at least try. It’s...hard. He has me strip down and put on the examination gown before he’ll speak to me and I just…I mean it’s a vulnerable situation for someone like me and I don’t really have anyone to come with me.” You were so relieved that someone might be taking you seriously, the words just came pouring out. “I know he doesn’t like Omegas so I just try to make everything simple but now I’m sick or confused and I’m scared, what if there’s something really wrong with me?”

“Easy, easy. Look, I’m gonna’ go grab you a soda from the break room stash. We’ll get some sugar into you, perk you back up. Like Mr. Helmsley said, if you can duke it out for two hours you’re in better shape.” Dean reminded you, heading for the door. “Everything’s gonna’ be just fine. I can come with you tomorrow, I don’t have any prior assignments.”

Of course, as soon as the words were out of his mouth the door flew open and half the contents of the IT department poured into the office. Drew, Tony and Perkins led by one Brian Kendrick who shouted, “There! I told you I smelled heat in the hallway!” pointing an accusing finger at you. You were frozen with fear. The small room was packed with Alphas and Betas now, crowding in on you from all sides.  The air was thick with different smells and the snap of hungry teeth and this is why you can’t have a job this is why you need to stay at home-

“Ambrose!” Seth yelled over the hubbub. It must have been something they had rehearsed, because you were suddenly pulled tight to Dean's chest.

“Face into my collarbone, breathe in. Breathe out. Don't look at them, focus on me.” Ambrose said calmly. There was the sound of a solid impact behind you and Kendrick abruptly stopped hollering.

“You're all really gonna' let this yappy son of a bitch rile you up into acting like a bunch of animals?” Roman asked, his voice low and irritated. “Get out. All of you! Out!”

You whimpered and Dean cupped the back of your head, humming comfortingly. “It's alright. He's a friend. You're safe with me.” He soothed. “We're on your side. Nothin' is gonna' happen to you while I’m here.”

“I'm going to talk to Kalisto and Mustafa. This is some bullshit.” Rollins grunted angrily. “Jesus Christ, that was a fucking nerd mob.”

“Are you alright?” Roman asked, sounding concerned. A large hand covered Ambrose’s on the back of your neck and you relaxed a little into Dean. “Go talk with the smart ones, Seth. We’ll stay put with them until you get back.”

“My legs are going to give out in a second.” You warned thickly.

“Grab the chair, Reigns.” Dean ordered. You closed your eyes, the sound of your swallow loud in your ears. “I’ve got you. Focus on my voice, calm that breathing down so you’re getting enough air.” Ambrose coached, settling you into the chair.

Roman’s hands rested on your shoulders, keeping you upright in the seat. Ambrose shifted in between your thighs, the comfort you felt at his presence a little startling. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you while one of us is here.” Roman said firmly.

“Promise?” You whispered, opening your eyes.

Dean stared back at you until you glanced away, unnerved by the intensity of his look. “Promise.” He replied softly.

…

“Clothes stay on. No, fuck you, their clothes stay on. You’re not bullying them anymore, got it asshole?” Dean rasped, looking like he was inches from pinning your doctor to the wall. “I’m here with them. Now do your damn job and explain what’s happening.”

You hadn’t taken two steps into the examination room before your primary care physician had gestured at the gown on the table and barked at you like he always did. But Ambrose didn’t take kindly to that, the light-haired man glaring holes through the old Alpha doctor. “You can’t threaten me in my own practice!” The older man sputtered.

“They have the right to be treated with fucking dignity, not like they’re an inconvenience. Shit, they’re sick and scared and you’re over here playing high and mighty!” Dean snapped. “What’s the story, huh doc? What’s your issue?”

“Omegas are breeding machines with hysterical, hypochondriac tendencies. My issue is that I’m having my time wasted.” The doctor answered primly.

“This is an Omega who’s got shortness of breath and their heats are getting worse even though they’re taking their suppressants. You’re the one writing their scripts; you’re the one who switched them to a generic without asking them first and then, you cut their doses in half!” Ambrose was fairly roaring at this point. “Feeding them some bullshit story about how they couldn’t take their own script to a fucking pharmacy! ‘Course they can, most Omegas do!”

“I’m not going to stand here and be accused of-”

“Accusing you? Buddy I haven’t even shown you my evidence. I’m flat-out condemning your ass. I have invoices. Faxes. Pages and pages of scripts with your name all over them. I suggest you fucking play ball with my Omega, or King’s Game is gonna’ raze your little pop-up clinic and turn it into a fuckin’ penny candy store.” Dean bared his teeth. “You feel me yet, doc?”

“I…” Your doctor paused, looking like he’d had the rug yanked out from beneath him. “Listen, this is standard procedure for Omega-exclusive practices, I can’t just-”

“You’re diggin’ a pretty deep hole for yourself, doc. You tryin’ to tell me that there’s more guys like you out there, purposely fucking up people’s lives?” Dean snarled.

“It’s the way things are.” Your doctor replied with a weary air. “We need to perpetuate our species one way or another. I don’t expect you to understand, you don’t smell quite right yourself.”

“You’d better watch that nose around me, doc. I’ll bite it off.”

“Aside from your own issues,” Your doctor continued, looking much more pale, “I can’t just up their dosage on a whim, this-”

“Hey, you’re not talking to me. Talk to them. This is their health at stake.” Dean growled.

“Fine.” Your doctor turned toward you with a huff, still not meeting your eyes. “It will take weeks for the suppressants to regain their previous effectiveness. A gradual increase is the only way to straighten you out. If, of course, this is all true.” The doctor didn’t seem to be able to help tacking on the snide remark at the end.

Dean was all over him like a bad suit, fists digging into the older man’s white jacket. “You keep this attitude up and I’ll bite your nose off for free.” He threatened. “This is your last warning to cut the shit. Write them the correct script or so help me God, my people will call your people.”

You just sat there wide-eyed, barely believing what you were watching. Dean was going to bat for you like you were his, radiating scents of fury and Alpha. Your body lit up with excitement and you barely kept yourself from begging Ambrose to mate you until you couldn’t remember your own name. Your face flushed. Where had that desire come from?! You had never been that forward before!

Ambrose kept up the rumbling threat of a snarl in his chest while your doctor printed off some new paperwork, the younger Alpha quickly yanking it out of the older man’s hands and then passing it to you. “Let’s get you taken care of, okay?” Dean murmured, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to steer you out of the examination room. “I know a guy, Doc Swagger. I’ll give you his number for when this script runs out.”

“Wow.” You breathed.

“Too much? I wanted him to take you seriously. I wasn’t sure whether ‘upset mate’ would work, so I went with ‘upset bad cop’.” Dean sounded worried. “Did I overstep?”

“Oh no, gosh. I’m just…a little hot is all.” You admitted, flushing.

“A little h…oh. Oh.” Ambrose paused, then gave you a grin. “Yeah? You think maybe you like when I get tough?”

“No! I do not!” You protested frantically, watching his grin widen. “I’ve never had anyone defend me like that is all and I don’t…I mean I’m not…look, I don’t want to offend you.”

“Offend…?” Ambrose raised an eyebrow, obviously confused. “I think you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“Well because I’m an Omega. And…and I can’t control myself as well as I should.” Your flush was from shame now. “It’s not fair to you that you have to deal with me all…messy like this and probably smelling like a...I-I don’t mean to be this way. It’ll be so much easier once my medication is evened back out.” This was so embarrassing. You had never felt smaller in your whole life. “I really don’t mean to be this way, I know what you must think of me.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with how you smell.” Dean finally murmured after a minute of silence, his back ramrod straight and that teasing smile gone from his face.

…

Hunter assigned Dean to you permanently when he saw how well the two of you were getting on. He mostly just seemed pleased that the program was a success and that you could get your work done with minimal interruptions.

There were no more outbursts from the IT department, and if anyone so much as twitched their nose at you it seemed like Ambrose was at your elbow, brandishing a stapler with deadly intent. His methods were a bit more…hands on than you would expect from someone in an office setting, but you were grateful all the same.

“I ain’t hurt anyone for real in years.” He confided in you one day while you were making copies, his lean frame towering over you. He tended to station himself to the side of you if he could help it, stating that he didn’t want to loom. “Used to pretty often though. This little program is good for me, I think.”

A huge pair of hands abruptly clamped down on your hips before you could respond, and you were rudely hoisted into the air and dropped to the side to free up the copier. “Out of my way.” Brock from Financial grunted.

“Hey!” Dean snapped, his expression gone fierce. “You don’t fucking touch them, Hunter’s orders!”

“What makes you think I give a flying fuck about Hunter’s orders?” Brock snorted derisively, “The little go-fer with slick-reek was taking too long. I have important work to do.”

You blushed hotly with shame, hoping that you didn’t actually smell like slick. How incredibly embarrassing!

“You can ask them to fucking move.” Ambrose’s fists clenched. “Or you can wait.”

“Copies really worth getting your panties in a wad over, Ambrose?” Brock’s grin was infuriating, arrogance shining through in his slouched posture.

“Certainly seemed like it was to you, Lesnar.” Dean scooped up the copy that Brock had made before the other Alpha could reach it, quickly ripping the page in half.

“Your maturity knows no bounds.” Brock sighed.

“Were you all set with the machine?” Dean asked you, studiously ignoring the massive Alpha blocking the door. You nodded quickly, not wanting to cause more trouble. You could always come back on your way out, after all. “Guess it’s your lucky day, Lesnar.”

“You do realize that they’ll fuck anyone, Ambrose. Regardless of how that person treats them.” Brock chuckled, his nasty smile back full-force. “Isn’t that right, little Omega? I bet you’d love it if I shoved up your skirt and just-”

“Stop!” You said while shaking your head violently, unsure at first if you were trying to shut him up or trying to keep your thoughts from circling on the visuals his words were eliciting. Normally you would have been thrilled at the idea of an Alpha offering you any sort of attention, especially attention that might ease the hot shivers in your stomach. But all you could focus on was the brief flash of a wounded look that crossed Ambrose’s face and the nausea that was building in your throat.

“Man, why the hell would you say something like that? Were you raised by wolves? Jesus.” Dean seemed more offended than anything else, moving until he was between you and Brock. “I mean shit, what’s your problem? Mommy issues? Daddy issues? Tiny penis? All three? Get the fuck away from them.” He gave Brock a hard shove, clearing the doorway. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” Dean urged you, making you scramble for the hall.

You slid down the wall once you were in the hallway, tucking your knees up into your chest. Brock had done nothing but make everything worse, your face still hot from the notion that you might smell like slick and be unable to do anything about it. You got unsteadily to your feet and fled to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall and resting your forehead against the door. Too late you realized you had forgotten your copies in the hallway, and tears choked your throat. Why was this so hard? Why did you have to be so stubborn about this job? Plenty of Omegas stayed at home, raising babies and keeping house. Why couldn’t you?

Maybe the suppressants failing was a blessing in disguise. Maybe…maybe you should be one of those Omegas. You had been so sure of yourself, and look where it had gotten you! Huddled up in a bathroom stall, your stomach rolling and tears dripping down your face. And now your nose was running. You thumped your head against the stall door and then flinched back when the bathroom door opened with a loud bang!

“Omega?” It was Dean, whispering as loud as he could. “You in here?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, unlocking the stall and opening the door. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor. “Sorry I ran. I know you have the worst job in this place and I’m not exactly making it easier by taking off on you.”

“Hey, I get it. You were scared, maybe a little embarrassed. Don’t listen to anything that asshole says, okay? He’s just pulling the same shit every other Alpha and Beta does, trying to guilt or threaten you into boning them.” Dean said bluntly. “Like I need to tell you that, like you don’t already know.” He laughed weakly. “And what the heck do you mean by ‘worst job’?”

You just shook your head, finally raising your eyes to look at him. He had a new graze on his cheek, the small cut oozing blood down the side of his jaw. “Oh, what happened?” You asked unhappily, reaching out and wiping the blood off with your thumb.

“Caught the side of the copier funny. It made that low toner warning t-turn off though, so I think I fixed it.” Dean’s voice hitched slightly and you hastily pulled your hand back.

“Sorry, I…reflex.” You apologized, tired to death of blushing. But you shouldn’t have touched him! He wasn’t yours, after all, and it was a little frowned upon when an unmated Omega went around touching unmated Alphas unnecessarily. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.” Was all Dean said in reply, jamming his hands into his pockets. When you caught sight of his hands later on in the day, you noticed his knuckles were scraped open in a few places.

I ain’t hurt anyone for real in years.

What did he consider ‘for real’?

…

Your heat cycle ended and life returned to normal for the most part. Dean no longer needed to accompany you everywhere and he said as much, pressing the phone number for his doctor friend into your palm. “I’ll see you around, Omega.”

You scolded yourself for your daydreaming, sentimental tendencies on the way to your appointment with Doctor Swagger. You felt guilty for the trouble you must have put Dean through during your cycle and you were hoping this new doctor would be able to help you manage yourself better.

Doctor Jack Swagger was the largest Omega you had ever met, the blond man standing head and shoulders over you when he shook your hand warmly. “The usual? I doubt you want to spend your whole day off in my tidy little exam room.” His easy demeanor was a complete change from your prior physician and you found yourself relaxing. “Ambrothe recommended me, huh? I’m flattered.” Swagger grinned. “He’s normally all teeth when I have to poke and prod him, poor bastard.” He patted the examination table. “Alright, quick checkup and we’ll have you out of here in no time.”

True to his word it wasn’t long before you were on your way, the fresh script for name brand suppressants tucked safely into your pocket. Swagger said he had already called the order in, but that “it might be a good idea for you to have the script in hand, so they can cross-reference it.” Which you were sure was his way of letting you know that he wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to be certain you were getting the right product.

You were grateful that he seemed to understand your plight. But then again, who knew what kind of trials he had been through? Nobody could have believed he was an Omega, as huge as he was. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel. Of course, not every Omega was going to be small-boned and delicate, the world just didn’t work that way. People like you did lean towards the diminutive, but an Omega’s size wasn’t nearly as much of an issue as it would be for, say, a shorter Alpha.

There were plenty of other things people could find wrong with Omegas. Size was an outlier.

You shook your head at yourself. Those thoughts weren’t going to do you any good. Everything would be okay now! You would be back to your usual self in a few months and hopefully you could still see Dean every now and then--

No! Stop it! That’s not how this works! Just because he had treated you decently, just because he was required to keep you safe when you were more likely to have a lapse in judgment? You were a job, that was all. Something to keep Mr. Helmsley signing checks for him. Nothing was going to change that. I don’t get any say in the matter, you thought sadly. He’s not mine and he’s never going to be. Might as well get used to it, no Alpha is going to so much as look at me unless I’m in heat.

…

The next time your cycle came around, you were caught off guard. It was almost two weeks early! You did your best to remain calm on the drive to work, calling ahead to let Stephanie know you would be a little late. Dean met you at the door, his expression carefully neutral. “Again?” You nodded, biting your lip. He grunted, taking off his heavy leather jacket and dropping it over your shoulders. “That ought to mask it, at least for now. How do you feel?”

“Queasy.” You admitted, snuggling down into the coat and tucking your nose into the collar where Ambrose’s scent was cloyingly thick. It was pitiful and you knew it, saying as much when Dean gently took your arm to lead you in. “M’sorry, your jacket is going to smell all gross.” You mumbled.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t mind your smell? Damn.” Dean huffed.

“What if people think you’re my mate because my scent is all over your stuff?” You continued over him worriedly. “What if Brock comes after you?”

“That’s kinda’ the point.” Dean said matter-of-factly, making you pause. “Look, I’m here to help you avoid conflict. No one said I had to fight fair.” His smile was crooked. “I just hope you can deal with the group of people who will pity you.”

“Pity…?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly a prime cut of Alpha steak.” He shrugged. “Not really much interest. Hell, I’m scrawny when you look at Reigns or Rollins.”

“I don’t think you’re scrawny!” You protested, touching his hand on your arm. “You’re trim.”

“Is that a thing? Sure, okay. I’m ‘trim’.” Dean chuckled. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

“Not every Alpha needs to be huge, y’know.”

Dean fell silent at your words and you wondered if you had annoyed him. His hold tightened momentarily on your arm. ��Come…come in here for a second.” He muttered finally, ushering you into an empty conference room.

You were instantly on guard, your death grip on the jacket around your shoulders the biggest oxymoron you could think of. Ambrose left the door to the hallway slightly ajar, and he leaned against the wall beside it.

“Look, I don’t want you thinkin’ you owe me for this uh…well, whatever it is that I’m doing. Escorting, I guess. I was trained to do this, okay? It’s not like I moonlight in HR or somethin’, this is what I clock in to do. So you ain’t gotta’ be delicate with me, alright? I’m a big kid.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t understand.” You said slowly, feeling like that was the best course of action.

Dean dragged a hand through his hair. “You…what you said. Not that I don’t appreciate hearin’ stuff like that, mind you. I don’t want to think that I’m…fuckin’, inadequate. And I usually don’t think that way anyhow. But you don’t have to say stuff just to make me feel better. Like I said, I’m a big kid.” He tried for another smile and it was even less convincing than his previous attempt. “Now, let’s get you to your office.”

“But-” You began to protest, bewildered.

“Please. Drop it.” Dean said softly, his hand tucked back into the crook of your elbow. “Seriously.”

You nodded, not really wanting to but understanding that he was uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. And wasn’t that odd, an Omega trying to make an Alpha feel at ease! “Hey, if you ever need to talk to someone…”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Oh, you had definitely upset him. His words were clipped and short, bitten out. “What’s up with me is my own business, Omega.”

“Yeah, but if you have to babysit on top of that-”

“I’m not babysitting you.”

“You literally put your coat on me and now you’re leading me along this hallway like I’ve never been here before. Face it, you’re a babysitter.” Your stomach twisted suddenly, robbing you of your breath and making you stop in your tracks. “Oh.”

“Omega? Shit.” Dean swore, glancing both ways before propping you up against the wall. “It's okay, you’re alright. You’re alright, it’ll pass.” He said softly, brushing your hair back from your face.

You tried to focus on his voice, tried to focus on his hands on your shoulders. “Dean-” You whispered.

“Shh, you’re alright. Breathe.” Dean urged and you nodded, trying to be obedient for this Alpha. “Just keep breathing, you’ll be okay. Nothing bad is gonna’ happen while I’m here, I promise.” His eyes lowered. “Is it your stomach?”

“Y-Yeah.” You choked out. “Hard to breathe-”

Dean grimaced and spread his palm flat on the lower portion of your stomach, applying firm, even pressure as he worked his hand in small circles. The heat of his fingers bled through your blouse and you whimpered, quickly biting down on your knuckles to stifle the noise. “Easy now, just relax into me.” He rasped, his voice rougher than usual. “I’ve got you.”

The pain in your stomach dissipated almost as quickly as it had arrived, and you held onto Dean’s arm while you tried to regain your balance. “What…God, I feel like I just ran a marathon.” You said finally, making Dean snicker.

“You probably blew through your caloric intake for the week. Let’s get you to the office and then I’ll find you a snack.” Ambrose’s hand stayed on your stomach, supporting you during the rest of the trek to the Omega office. You wanted to wonder at that, but you quickly crushed the notion. He was doing his job. Nothing more, but definitely nothing less.

He kept closer than he usually did, touching you with some part of his body for the majority of the work day. Fingertips, his jeans brushing your slacks or his arm bumping your own in the narrow hallways. Normally it wouldn’t matter, but after his curt behavior earlier it was entertaining to a degree. And confusing.

“I just don’t think I could do it.” He muttered out of the blue.

You glanced up from the pile of mail you were trying to sort, seeing that he was fiddling with his phone. “What?” You asked, making him jump.

“Oh, sorry. That was supposed to be in my head. My bad.” Dean apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just thinkin’ about…well, it doesn’t really matter.” You raised an eyebrow and he swallowed hard, the sound seeming over-loud in the quiet room. “Uh. Jesus, if I hadn’t seen you earlier I’d swear you were an Alpha. You’ve got the stern look down pat.”

“Oh?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you were being complimented.

Ambrose practically lunged across the desk to pick up one of the bottles of water he had grabbed earlier, clumsily popping the cap on it and downing half the contents. “Okay, alright, you win, you can’t do that shit with your nose.” He gasped once he was done. “Look, it wouldn’t work between us. I ain’t never even thought about dating an Omega before!” Dean sounded outright panicky and you got the feeling his mouth was miles ahead of his brain as he rambled, “I mean, I have thought about it, yeah, but it scares the shit out of me. I just--if-if they have some kind of wave and I ain’t around, what happens? What fucking happens? People talk a lot of shit but there isn’t any hard proof, do Omegas want to bang whatever whenever? And if they do, why would--”

“Listen, I’d love to answer but I can’t. If I told you I’d have to kill you. Official orders from Omega higher-ups.” You interrupted Dean pompously, barely holding back your giggles when he gave you a wide-eyed look. “What, you don’t know about the network? We have influential Omegas stationed at key points across the globe, Dean. There’s nothing Alphas or Betas can do without us knowing.”

Understanding dawned on Dean’s face and he shoved your shoulder, giving an embarrassed laugh. “Shut up, I was bein’ serious y’know.”

“I don’t really know the answers.” You admitted. “I’ve been on suppressants since my first heat, and up until relatively recently they worked fine. So I couldn’t tell you. I doubt Omegas actually want to bang whatever whenever, but hormones are a funny thing. Especially if they’re combined with a fertile Alpha or Beta. Your scent makes me weak in the knees, sure, but I’m not about to jump you. With the half-strength suppressants the hardest part was dealing with the mental images.”

“Oh. Like when Brock was-”

“Ew, Jesus, don’t remind me.” You cut him off, covering your ears. “It was bad enough in the moment, God. I wanted to die.”

“Why do people do that shit to you guys?” Dean asked, “Just to get you wound up? Give you some kind of picture that’ll make your body feel even worse until you get some relief?”

“So that they can conveniently offer to be the relief.” You shook your head. “Guilting and manipulating an Omega into mating while they’re in heat ought to be a punishable offense. Nine times out of ten we aren’t in our right minds, how are you supposed to get consent out of someone who can’t even remember words anymore?”

“And that’s the ticket right there, isn’t it.” Ambrose growled. “Fuckin’ pieces of crap get an Omega riled to the point of incoherence and have their fun.” He gave you a sidelong look. “That uh, that something that’s happened to you?”

“No, not me personally. I’ve been very lucky.” You replied softly.

“Well you ain’t gotta’ rely on luck anymore, okay? I’m here. I’m not particularly lucky myself, but what little I’ve got I’ll happily spread thin for ya’.” Dean cracked his knuckles, looking very serious. “That’s why I signed on to this program anyway, figured if my Alpha hormones are fucked I might as well do some good.”

“How are they messed up?”

“Ah, I get weird dry spells. Months, sometimes. I’ve got some meds to regulate it for when the spigot turns back on, mostly because if I didn’t I could probably tear a stack of phonebooks for kicks. It’s like testosterone overload, I can’t get a straight thought through my head even with the meds. I’ll be like ‘I need food’, then two seconds later I’m out climbing my fire escape, stealing tomatoes off the balcony of the guy who lives above me.” Dean shrugged. “Probably naked too, if I know myself.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah, I’m uh, not too bright when I get that way.”

…

Friday had come at last. It had been a long week and you were definitely looking forward to some time off. Ambrose was more fidgety than normal, to the point where it was actually getting on your nerves. Usually you barely noticed it, but today Dean seemed like he was trying to tap and shimmy his way out of his own skin.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked, much sharper than you had intended.

Dean flinched, not meeting your eyes when he looked up and instead focusing on a point by your shoulder. “Yep.” He said shortly.

You quirked an eyebrow at his behavior, getting to your feet and smoothing the wrinkles out of your skirt. “Hey, if something is wrong you can tell me, you know. I’m not in anyone’s pocket just yet.”

“I just have to get through this shift. I’d appreciate it if you would drop it.” Was his stiff reply.

“Is it something that I did?” You asked worriedly, thanking God that you were at the end of your heat and your flush wasn’t quite so neon. “Did I say something? Did…did Brock do something?”

“This ain’t got anythin’ to do with you!” Dean said, his voice rasping badly when he raised it. He deflated almost immediately. “Sorry, I’m…sorry. I promise it’s not anything that you did. I just gotta’ get through today. I’m trying real hard to keep my cool here, Omega.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked, lowering your own voice and crouching so you were at eye level with him. Dean still wouldn’t look you in the eye, awkwardly shifting in his chair. “Hey, I’m serious. You take such good care of me all the time. Do you need a water? Something to snack on?”

“It feels like someone cranked the knob up to eleven and then snapped it off.” Ambrose mumbled, not answering your question. Then, “If something happens…”

“Nothing is going to happen. I’m running down the hall to the lounge, getting you a water and some chips, then coming right back. Three minutes tops.” You promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “Let me take care of you.”

Ambrose groaned loudly, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his temples. “Alright, okay, fine. Just be careful. Three minutes. I’m coming to get you if you’re not back.” He threatened half-heartedly, making you snicker while you stood.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” You eased into the hallway, making sure it was empty before you closed the door behind you. As you made the short walk to the break room, you wondered whether this was the beginning of Dean’s own proverbial hell week. Your heart went out to him if it was, you of all people understood that having your body go to war with itself was not a fun experience.

The vending machine was devoid of chips, but there were a few packets of crackers available. You fed it your change and then huffed in annoyance when the crackers got stuck in the dispenser. Pounding your fist on the side of the machine did no good, and you resorted to shoulder-checking it until it rocked enough to drop the crackers. “Ha!” You said triumphantly, retrieving your prize and turning around.

Brock was so close you all but walked into his chest and your heart sank to your shoes. “Well well well, if it isn’t the office pet. Where’s your cuntlicker?” Brock leered down at you.

You swallowed hard. Cuntlicker? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Omega bitch. Where’s Ambrose?” Brock’s tiny eyes narrowed even further. “I owe him for the other day, after all. Maybe I ought to have you suck me off as an apology.”

“What makes you think I would agree to something like that?” You snapped, ignoring the faded response of your body that clamored to be claimed by an Alpha.

“I don’t need you to agree-”

“If you don’t want me to bite your cock off, I feel like my agreement is incredibly important.” You snarled, surprising yourself with your own aggression. “Also? Not even if I was out of my mind with heat, Lesnar.”

“Is that fucking so?” Brock’s hands crushed your shoulders, the large Alpha hefting you up and pinning you to the wall without so much as a noise of exertion. “Try again, Omega bitch.”

“Go fuck yourself, asshole!” You struggled in his grip, kicking your legs and wriggling wildly. “You don’t own me, no one owns me, no one has any right to treat me like this so fuck you!” You proclaimed furiously. “I’m nobody’s sweet little Omega and I will tear your dick off if you touch me again!” You were screaming at this point, so incredibly outraged that you were seeing red.

“What are you gonna’ do to me? You can’t even fight back.” Brock sneered. “Until I decide to let you go, you’re stuck. So do me a favor and stop wasting my time, little bitch.” His fingers dug in harshly but instead of crying out in pain you spat at him, refusing to be cowed. “I know you’re gonna’ change your tune the second you see my cock, you Omegas are all the same. Once I wreck you, Ambrose won’t come within thirty yards of your sorry ass.”

You jerked your head to the side and sank your teeth into his hand. Brock responded by slamming your back against the wall so hard you saw stars for a second.

“Don’t push your luck-”

The door to the room opened and Ambrose half-fell through the doorway, barely catching himself in time. “What are you fuckin’ doing?” He asked Lesnar bluntly, his teeth clicking loudly at the end of the sentence. Dean looked feverish, his hair messy and eyes wild.

I’ve got some meds to regulate it for when the spigot turns back on, mostly because if I didn’t I could probably tear a stack of phonebooks for kicks.

You gulped. “Ambrose why are you so fucking obnoxious?” Brock grunted. Dean didn’t bother to respond, he simply latched onto Lesnar’s fingers and peeled one of his hands off your shoulders. You dropped to the floor and then with an ugly twist of his wrist, Ambrose snapped every finger on Brock’s hand.

“Keep it up, Lesnar. Give me an excuse t’ send ya’ ass t’ the fuckin’ ER.” Ambrose snarled. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? I figured you’d appreciate the black eye, but I guess you’re more hands-on than that.”

“You broke my fucking fingers!”

“You had the Omega trapped, not much choice.” Ambrose shrugged. “My job description is ‘any means necessary’.” His footing was unsteady, the slender man almost falling over when he managed to pull you upright. “Are you alright, Omega? Anythin’ hurt?” He asked, straightening out your blouse clumsily.

You threw your arms around him, hugging him as fiercely as you could. Dean stiffened for a second before he returned your embrace, holding you tight to his chest and cradling the back of your head like he had the first day you had met.

“Are you alright?” He asked again, quieter this time. “Did he hurt you?”

“N-no, I’m okay. I had it under control.” You selfishly buried your face in his shirt, inhaling his scent deeply.

“I noticed.” Dean whispered.

“You're gonna' fucking pay for this, Ambrose!” The larger Alpha swore, easily ripping Dean away from you and delivering a blow to the smaller man's jaw that snapped his head to the side. “After I'm done with you, you'll eat through a straw for the rest of your life!” Brock raged, his broken hand cupped to his chest.

Dean shook his head and then bared his teeth, blue eyes wide and pupils blown in a fixated stare. “And I was gonna' let you live, too.” He rasped, giving a harsh bark of mirthless laughter. He caught your arm and pushed you towards the door, his fingers lingering on your skin longer than he needed to. “Get Hunter, Omega. Be good for me, okay?” His scent was saturated with Alpha smell, strong enough to take your breath away.

“But-!”

Ambrose didn't have another second of attention to spare, throwing himself bodily at Lesnar and flooring him. The last thing you saw before fleeing to go find Mr. Helmsley was Dean straddling Brock, the slim Alpha ranting swears while the two of them swung wildly at each other.

…

What was left of Brock Lesnar was blackballed from King's Game and all its subsidiaries. Which may have stretched further than you had anticipated. Dean was released into the care of Rollins and Reigns. According to Mr. Helmsley he was a little too far gone to be trusted with driving himself home. “He’ll be fine in a few days.” The older Alpha assured you, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “He bounces back pretty quick. Tough kid, Ambrose.”

You spent the weekend quietly. You were shaken by the fact that while Ambrose clearly displayed  dominant tendencies, he hadn’t ever tried to assert that dominance over you. He also hadn’t thought for a second about taking a piece out of Brock, recklessly lunging at the larger man.

Was it because Brock had gone after you? Or was simply because he had hit Dean? Ambrose had seemed to be in his right mind until he had been punched, then he had obviously lost the battle with his surging hormones. Now that you thought on it, if what Dean had said was true, Brock was probably lucky to be alive.

Dean wasn’t at work on Monday or Tuesday. When Wednesday came, you marched straight to the Alpha Program office and banged on the door.

Seth opened the door, staring down at you momentarily. “Uh. Yes?” He asked after an awkward pause.

“I need Dean’s address.” You said firmly.

“Ha! Pay up, Rollins.” Reigns called from his desk across the room, chuckling while Seth swore under his breath and dug into his pocket for his wallet.

“Why do you want Ambrose’s info?” Rollins questioned you warily. “He’s not in the greatest shape right now, and I dunno’ if he’s fit comp-”

“He lit into Lesnar and I want to know why.”

“Brock put his hands on you. Dean takes his job very seriously.” Seth explained like you were a child, making you bristle.

“But why pummel the guy? Not that I’m ungrateful, mind you. It just seemed like overkill is all.” You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t know. I guess I just want to talk to him. Make sure he’s alright. I haven’t felt okay since that day and I…” You trailed off, feeling that familiar blush creep up your neck.

“Ah. Talk.” Roman cleared his throat. “I don’t know if he’ll be in the proper headspace for speech. But hey, maybe having you there will help him come back around.”

“Is he really that far gone?”

“The spat with Lesnar pushed him further than it should have. He’s been mostly non-verbal whenever Rollins or I check on him.” Roman shrugged. “He’s not hurting himself. He’s all bundled up in a blanket den like usual, it’s just that he’s not talking. Dean gets into his own head sometimes and there’s not a whole lot we can do about it except let him know that we’re there for him if he needs us.”

“Will he hurt me if I show up?”

“Ambrose ain’t like that.” Seth answered sharply. “He’s a couple sandwiches short, yeah, but he’s never violent without a reason. He thinks the world of you.” He stopped, looking embarrassed. “Uh, not in like…a creepy way or anything. Just, y’know, you’re important to him, I guess.” He floundered.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. “So give me his address.”

…

Ambrose lived in a rougher neighborhood and you were immensely thankful that your heat had passed. You weren’t sure you would have been as confident if it still had your body in its grip. Even in your right mind, you spent a solid five minutes talking yourself up in the car. “C’mon, Rollins said he wouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even think he would hurt you, you big baby.” You shut the car door behind you firmly, straightened out your skirt and headed for the apartment complex stairwell.

Reigns had given you Dean’s door code, stating that he was unsure if Ambrose would be able to answer the door in his current state. The lock clicked open under your fingers and you let yourself into Dean’s apartment, knocking your knuckles against the wood of the door to announce your presence. “Ambrose?” The first thing that hit you was the smell, Alpha scent so strong it made your head spin and knees weak. You braced yourself on the chair beside the door, trying to clear your head.

The second thing you noticed was that the whole apartment was dark. Daylight filtered in weakly through the curtains, but other than that the place was in shadow.

You put the small bag of groceries that you had picked up before coming over onto the counter, noting with worry that there were no dirty dishes in the sink. “Dean?” You called a little louder, thoroughly concerned now. “Hey, where are you? Roman and Seth said that you’d be here.”

Behind you there was the sound of a door creaking open. You whirled just in time to see Dean unfolding his lanky form from a pantry that was definitely not meant to be a living space. He spilled out onto the floor and laid there for a minute, before he turned his head to the side and groaned pitifully.

“Dean!” You dropped to your knees, forgoing your usual Omega propriety in favor of touching his shoulder. “Dean, oh my God. Are you alright?” After another long minute he raised his head slightly, dazed blue eyes trying hard to focus on your face. “Dean, it’s me. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” You said quietly.

Dean’s reply was a hum that turned into a low moan, his forehead hitting the floor again with a dull thud. “Om’ga.” He slurred. “Thought y’ were th’ guys. Y’kay? Lesn’r come back? I’ll geddup, ‘ll kick his ass again…” Ambrose struggled to do just that, shoving himself into a sitting position. He then inhaled deeply and you watched his pupils dilate. “Y’ didn’t need to come over here. M’ fine. Just been in my den.”

“Is that what you call the pantry?”

“Small, dark. Quiet. I need that when I’m like this.” His voice sounded shot.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You offered. Dean flailed an arm out until he caught hold of a drawer pull, hauling himself partially upright. You grabbed his free hand and managed to help him the rest of the way.

“Fuck’s sake.” He rasped, holding tight to your arm. The knuckles on his hands were still cracked and yellow-green bruised, presumably from his fight with Lesnar. “Feel like hot garbage. Why y’ here?” He asked wearily, his head lolling back momentarily.

“I’ve been worried about you.” You said, a little plainer than you had intended.

Ambrose jerked his head up to look at you, obviously startled. “You…what?” You propped him up against the counter and filled him a glass of water from the sink, which he quickly drank. “Om’ga m’ serious, wh…what did y’ say?”

“I was worried about you.” You whispered, twiddling your fingers nervously.

“Why?” Ambrose asked bluntly.

“I don’t know, because you got into a fight with an Alpha who’s at least twice your size? If I had just-”

Ambrose placed a finger on your lips, stopping the flow of words. “Y’ not gettin’ raped while I’m on th’ fuckin’ clock, un’nerstan’? Don’t care how sick I am.”

“But if I had let him-” You tried to continue your previous train of thought.

“No. There’s no gray area here, Om’ga. Not allowed. No is no, always has been. Y’ did th’ right thing by fightin’ back.” Dean closed his eyes, tilting his head back to bump the cupboards. “I saw him fuckin’ pinnin’ you there an’…thought I was too late. Got so scared.” He confessed. “Needed you t’ leave. Wouldn’t hurt you, but…but I didn’t want y’ afraid of me if I fucked him up.”

“Is he at least fun to punch?” You asked dryly.

Dean’s drawn-out groan of a response sounded downright filthy. “So much fun.” He dragged a hand through his hair, finally seeming to notice the shopping bag you had brought in. “Whuss’at?”

“Dinner. I didn’t know how sick you were, so I um. I brought dinner.” You fought down the feelings of self-consciousness when Dean’s face became guarded. “It’s pretty basic stuff, but I know when I’m knee-deep in heat there’s nothing better than not having to make your own food.”

“Omega, m' okay. You don't need to--y'know.” Dean fell silent. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter. “I already tol' y' that I'm a big kid. Don't have to take care of me or say shit I wanna' hear. Which one of th' guys put y' up to this? Bet it was Rollins.”

“Nobody put me up to anything, why is that so hard to believe?” You asked, thoroughly irritated.

“It wouldn' be th' firs' time, is all. Don't mean t' be all weird abou'it.”

“I'm here because I was worried sick about you, and I wanted to know why you went after Lesnar so hard even after you got him to let me go.”

“Make sure he never did it again. He shouldn't have put his hands on you.” Ambrose snarled. “He talked so much shit when you weren't around, tryin'a rile me up n' get under m' skin. Fuckin' rattlin' on about how I mus' be fuckin' you, there's no other reason I'd take on the job 'cept to get first crack at an Omega, righ'?” He said bitterly. “It's Alphas like him that made me apply in the first place, an' look at me. Stooped to his fuckin' level th' firs' chance I could get away with it.”

“But you were on the opposite side of it!” You protested.

“It don't fuckin' matter. I went full rut-brain and hauled off on someone. Coulda' killed him.” Dean muttered grimly. “Been thinkin' about it this whole time. If Hunter hadn't gotten there when he did...Christ, was so fuckin' mad.” You wrapped your arms around him impulsively, hugging him tight. Dean actually moaned at the display of affection, his cheek dropping to rest on the top of your head. “Omega, y' can't...”

“I can.” You said softly.

“I won't prove him right, Omega.” Ambrose whispered, his hands trembling when he rested them on your hips. “I won't accept a reward for bein' someone like him, some domineerin' Alpha fuckstick.”

“I'm not a reward, I'm a human being. A lot of time and effort goes into me, Ambrose. I expect you to appreciate that.” You said huffily into his chest. “I'm hell on wheels during my heat if I'm not on suppressants and I don't fully understand how bad you get during your own spells, but I'm willing to try if you are.”

“Y' willin'?” Dean tipped your chin up, searching your eyes with his own. “Are y' serious?” You kissed him on the mouth instead of answering and he startled you with a gravelly whimper, his body going slack against yours while he cupped your face and kissed you back. “God, Omega, I've been goin' out of my mind, I wanted t' ask, wanted t' do it right.” He breathed. “I know I'm not much of an Alpha, m' skinny an' not nearly as dominant as I oughta' be, but...but God I want you. Wanted you t' want me, t’ take me as your mate.” He crooned helplessly in his throat. “Knew it from the first second I saw you, but you were so pretty. I don’t get pretty things.” He buried his face in your hair, rocking you back and forth. “I thought I fucked everythin' up when I went after Lesnar. Thought I scared you.”

“I was scared for you. I knew you weren't feeling well and I didn't want you to get hurt.” You assured him, boldly resting your hands on his hips.

Dean chuckled. “Ain't gotta' worry about me, Omega. Been in way worse shit than that.”

“Don't say that. I don't even want to think about you getting hurt.”

The Alpha groaned louder than you expected at your words. “I don't think anyone's ever not wanted me to get pummeled. You sure I ain't dreamin'?” You kissed him again, softer this time. “God, if I'm dreamin' don't wake me up.”

“Will you let me fix dinner?” You asked cautiously. “You can shower while I do that, might make you feel a little more human.”

Dean kissed your forehead, then teasingly rubbed his overgrown stubble across your cheek. “Not a fan of the mountain man look, Om’ga?”

“I didn’t say you had to shave!” You protested quickly, making him snort with laughter. “Just get washed up. Nothing better than a nice hot shower when you’re in heat, take my word for it. Yes, I know you’re not in heat, but I feel like a few of the rules are universal.” You ticked them off on your fingers as you spoke. “One, any food you don’t have to cook yourself is good food. Two, a hot bath is next to godliness. A hot shower will suffice, but it has to be hot. Three, if you need to cry because something hurts, that’s okay. And four, the most important one, be careful.”

“I ain’t gotten murdered in the shower yet, have I?” Dean looked troubled for a second. “Does…does it hurt when you have your heat? Where does it hurt? We learned that stomach soothe thing in our trainin’, but that can’t be all.”

“Ah, I personally get pains in the small of my back, my neck and shoulders. The stomach throbbing I think is universal, something to do with the reproductive areas going into overdrive with prep work.” You shrugged. “It’s so strange to me that there’s no concrete answer to essentially any Omega problem. It’s always a ‘possibility’ or some crap like that.”

“Tryin’ to keep you guys under everyone’s thumb.” Dean grunted, moving to scoop his blanket nest up out of the pantry. “More research means more informed folks like Doc Swagger, right? Can’t have that shit fixin’ their system.” He reasoned. His face reddened when he caught the incredulous look you were giving him. “My uh, my ma was an Omega.” He fumbled to explain, clinging tighter to the blankets as if they were a shield. “Never knew my dad.”

“Oh, so you’ve had a vested interest in that kind of thing.” You realized. Dean nodded wordlessly, ducking his face into the blankets. “Hey, don’t hide from me you goof, that’s a good thing.”

“Seth thinks it’s weird.” Dean muttered.

“Seth’s not an Omega, now is he? Of course he thinks it’s weird.” You chided. “I think it’s awesome that you pay attention to stuff like that.” You tugged the blankets down and kissed him again, smiling. “Now go get washed up.”

“God, just havin’ you around makes me feel more human.” He said dazedly. “Yeah, okay, shower. Goin’.”

You squealed quietly to yourself once you were sure he was in the shower, doing a giddy little shimmy before you started making dinner. He likes me! He’s liked me since the beginning! Your whole body still felt like it was buzzing happily from all the kisses and touches; you had never been touched tenderly by an Alpha before Dean. It had always been so clinical, as though being an Omega was contagious and no one else wanted to get infected.

Dean obviously didn’t give a damn, never shying away from the limited contact you had been bold enough to make. He seemed to welcome your hugs and kisses as well, so you made a mental note to do that as often as you thought you could get away with.

A still-stubbled chin rested on your shoulder and a set of strong arms wrapped around your midsection. “Miss me, Omega?” Dean asked, grunting when you wiggled back against him contentedly. “Think I’m about eighty-five percent human again. Makin’ mac n’ cheese?”

“Mm. Ultimate comfort food.” You nodded, continuing to stir the pasta. “Want to set your table, or should I?”

“I can manage it.” Dean pulled away, pecking the top of your head. “Thanks for takin’ care of me, Omega. Y’know you don’t have to, right?”

“I’m doing this because I want to, Alpha Ambrose.” You teased, making him rumble in his chest.

“Could get used to that.” He said finally, his tongue poking out from between his teeth when he smirked at you. The smirk vanished after you commented positively on his dimples, his face taking on a more bashful look while he set two bowls out on the counter. “Always thought they were out of place on the mug of a guy like me, y’know? Weird fuckin’ cherub smile.”

“You must have gotten away with so much when you were little.” You sighed. He grinned at you, silently indicating that he absolutely did. “Who am I kidding, you probably still raise hell.”

“Nah, Lesnar was my first fight in ages. There’s this thing called getting arrested, happened once or twice. Kinda’ not a fan of it so I’ve kept my nose clean.”

“Arrested? Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, it’s when ‘The Man’ decides he’s had enough of your semi-vigilante bullshit.”  Dean snuck a taste of mac n' cheese out of the pot as you reached over to turn off the heat and he laughed when you swatted him on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, I'll be good! You gotta' hurry up though, m' starvin'.”

Dean, it turned out, didn't exactly have a kitchen table. His living room sort of...flowed into the kitchen and he apparently ate on his couch most of the time. He ended up hauling the worn coffee table in close enough to bump his knees when he sat down, then patted the space on the couch beside him.

“C'mere, Omega.” He urged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders when you obliged him. To your surprise, he scooped up a spoonful of cheesy pasta from his bowl and proceeded to feed it to you. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you chewed and swallowed, and Dean cocked his head to the side. “What is it?” He asked.

“You just said you were hungry.” You pointed out, tentatively accepting another mouthful of mac n' cheese.

“I am. But if you're my mate, if...if we're dating, you come first.” Dean said firmly. “So you eat, and then I'll eat.”

“How about we compromise?” You suggested, emptying your bowl out on top of his and then offering him a spoonful of your own pasta. “We'll eat from the same bowl. I'll feed you, and you can feed me.”

“Yeah?” Ambrose looked suspiciously misty-eyed for a second, before he cleared his throat and eagerly ate the comfort food. “M' old-fashioned, sorry.” He mumbled around his mouthful. “Never had anyone to share stuff with like this. I always thought I'd have t' bring a fresh-killed deer to someone's parents or somethin'. But I guess sittin' in my apartment eatin' cheesy mac ain't so bad.”

“Think you can live with the disappointment?” You grinned.

“Oh, I'll manage somehow.”

His quiet murmurs of contentment slowly turned into outright purring as the evening went on, and you found yourself petting his hair while the two of you watched television. “Hey, can you look at me for a second?” You requested softly, making Dean tilt his head up. “Hi.” You kissed him and he moaned into your mouth, seeming caught off-guard.

“Omega, fuck.” He breathed. “Hi. Huh.” He shuddered all over. “One more of those and I'll wreck my pants. Go easy on me.”

“Why? Do you get like it when I kiss you?” You asked, giggling when Dean nodded wildly. “What else could I possibly do to you, if that's all it takes?”

“Everything.” Dean growled, twining his fingers with your own. “Everything and anything is great. Kiss me, bite me.” He was all but begging, baring his neck and burying his face in your shoulder. “Bite me, bite me please.”

You blushed bright red, licking your lips at his invitation. “Are...Are you sure? What if I hurt you?”

“I dare you.” You mouthed over his neck and he sobbed out a breath against your shoulder, his body twitching. “God, please, please Omega, just-” Your teeth dug in, canines crushing down. Dean froze for a second, almost long enough for you to get worried. “Fuck.” He snarled, “Yeah, you're perfect.”

“More?” You asked, squeaking when he yanked his shirt off and pulled you into his lap. His eyes met your own and the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. “More.” You announced.

“You're my mate.” Dean replied, cradling the back of your neck when you nosed across his shoulder. “Whatever you want, just keep biting me.” You sank your teeth in harder this time, giving a growl of your own when Ambrose rolled his hips. Your skirt rode up on your thighs. “You want to go further, Omega? We can if you want to.”

“You say while I have a mouthful of your neck.”

“Hey, don't talk with your mouth full.” Dean scolded, carding his fingers through your hair. You giggled and he started laughing as well after a second, his smile warm when he looked down at you. “What do you want from me, Omega?”

“A lot of things.” You answered truthfully, pulling your skirt up out of the way. Dean's eyes widened gratifyingly when you ground yourself against the swell of his cock in his jeans. “A specific thing right now, if you're interested.”

“Jesus Christ, if.” Dean unbuttoned his jeans, biting his lip when you pushed his hand away and unzipped his zipper. “You're dangerous, know that?” He rasped. “Checkin' up on me, feedin' me.”

“I have to take care of my Alpha.” You said simply.

“Yours, Omega. All yours. As long as you'll have me.” Dean spoke just as plainly as you, cupping your cheek. “Until you leave.”

“I'm not going to.”

“I sure as hell hope not.” He watched hungrily while you shed your panties, rumbling when he saw the slick that shone in the dim light. “Fuck, you can't still be...”

“No, m' just wet.” You rose up onto your knees and Dean shivered in anticipation, his thighs tight beneath you. “It's much worse when I'm in heat, trust me. Half the time I don't even bother with underwear.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.” He sighed, gripping the base of his cock and giving himself a lazy stroke. “If that ain't a turn-on, I dunno' what is.”

“Good to know.” Dean's knuckles brushed the soft skin on your thigh and then he pulled away, letting you slowly lower yourself onto his cock. You weren't able to hold back a moan and he echoed your noise, sounding desperate. His fingers dug into the couch on either side of his body when you were fully seated, and you panted out a few shallow breaths as you tried to get used to the size of him. “God, Dean.” You gasped.

“Oh Jesus, fuck.” Dean grunted, whimpering when you snapped your teeth back down into his neck. “Yes, good Omega, good Omega, bite me, mark me.” He urged, his eyes rolling back in his skull as you tugged at his hair and began riding him. “Best Omega, don't be shy little Omega, fuck me, fuck me-”

You leaned back, using your hold on his hair to make him watch his dick slide in and out of you. “You like it? You like the way I take your Alpha cock?” You crooned, his passive behavior driving you to quicken your pace. He still had his hands clenched into fists on the cushions, like he was afraid to touch you. “Fuck up into me like you mean it, Alpha. Claim me.” You demanded. His hips bucked once, shallowly, and you ground down onto him.

“Don't want to hurt you.” He groaned, his hands seeming to move of their own accord despite his words. Dean palmed your thighs, only tightening his grip after you nodded encouragingly. “Won't hurt you. Your Alpha's gonna' make you come.”

“Yes please!” You begged, leaning into his touch.

“Look at you, taking every inch of me. What a good Omega you are.” Dean praised, “You needed this, didn't you? Needed your Alpha inside you to fill you up. Alpha's here.” He thrust his cock up, snarling, “Alpha's right here to give you what you need, tell him what you need. You need it harder? You need it faster?” You could have cried with relief when he crushed you down to sit in his lap again, his dominant tendencies shining through. “Grind on your Alpha's cock.” He ordered and you obeyed, making him grit out a swear. “Hah, fuck, Omega, you're so tight around me, fuck--”

“I'm a good Omega, right?” You panted, and Dean pressed his forehead to yours. “M' a good Omega, make you feel good?”

“God fucking dammit Omega, this is the fucking best I've ever felt in my life.” He growled, “Come for me, c'mon, get my knot fuckin' slick for you, do it, do it-” The bulge at the base of his cock throbbed against you, prodding thickly at your pussy with delicious intent. Just the thought that something so big would be inside you in a matter of moments was enough to make you arch your back and grind down even faster, your pubic mound bucking against his stomach in a frantic bid for completion.

Your orgasm surged through you, sending jolts up and down your spine where Dean gripped you fiercely. In the midst of it all, his knot slipped into you and you buried your face in his shoulder, crying out loudly and circling your hips. “Oh sweetheart, oh God, God are you alright? Are you alright?” Dean gasped, trembling fingers combing through your hair soothingly. “Jesus, I'll stop if you're not alright Omega, need to tell me y' okay.”

You managed to give him a thumbs up, making him moan in what seemed to be relief. His knot throbbed inside of you and then he grunted, coming hard. You sucked in a breath at the sensation of being mated, claimed and proven worthy by your Alpha's knot like you were an Omega out of the history books.

“Fuck.” Dean breathed. “Fuck. I've never knotted anyone before.” He mumbled finally. “Never had it engage. Holy fuck, you're my mate.”

“I'm your mate?” You echoed, unable to hide your smile.

Dean appeared to be in the same boat, his eyes going wide with the realization. “I'm your mate.”

“You're my mate.” You kissed his forehead. “My Alpha.”

“My Omega. I...God, wow. That sounds...that sounds really great.” He smiled up at you, his curls a frazzled mess and blue eyes bright with affection. “My Omega-mate.” You relaxed into Dean's arms and he began humming softly, continuing to stroke your hair and plant the occasional kiss on the top of your head. “Take a breather, Omega. We've got time.” He murmured. “Sleep good.”

Sleep good.

[snarktheater]

Ready Player One — Level Three (Chapters 32-33)

After our brief foray into a heist story that tied itself up really neatly and really fast, Wade now has a bunch of stolen data and a foolproof plan to…get past IOI’s defense on Castle Anorak and get to the Third Gate.

Because, you know. Real-life mortal danger is just not interesting enough stakes for the book. We gotta go back to the video game contest. That’s what matters.

We left Wade when he was setting up a meeting with the other three main characters of this book, and he explains to them everything that happened to him since he went dark. And by “explains” I mean of course he makes himself sound much better than he was.

“How does a lowly indent get access to secret Sixer dossier files and company memos?” I turned to face her. “Indents have limited access to the company intranet via their hab-unit entertainment system, from behind the IOI firewall. From there, I was able to use a series of back doors and system exploits left by the original programmers to tunnel through the network and hack directly into the Sixers' private database.” Shoto looked at me in awe. “You did that? All by yourself?” “That is correct, sir.”

You know, all by himself, with information he bought and doing nothing but follow instructions. Same difference, I assume.

But that’s apparently enough for the others. They thank him for the warnings, although Artemis is also angry that he read her file—as she should be, since that information was really private and also it did not help one bit. Wade does not experience a shred of regret, though.

So, what is the plan, you ask? Well, keep asking, because instead of telling them, Wade just moves on to taking it for granted that they will make it past the Sixers and straight to how to open the Third Gate. By which I mean the gate is inscribed with a reference to Schoolhouse Rock! that the Sixers missed and our protagonist immediately catch because they’re oh-so-awesome. Since “showing the puzzle and immediately giving the solution” has been the book’s modus operandi from the start…I guess at least this time it didn’t rely on a random epiphany and the characters really showed off that they knew their stuff.

I will draw attention to this, from Wade’s recap of what IOI has tried:

“They try every asinine thing you can imagine,” I said. […] “Then they get hung up on reciting First Corinthians 13:13, a Bible verse that contains the words ‘charity, hope, and faith.’ Apparently, ‘charity, hope, and faith’ are also the names of three martyred Catholic saints. The Sixers have been trying to attach some significance to that for the past few days.” “Morons,” Aech said. “Halliday was an atheist.”

Which is kind of baffling to me. I mean…what, atheists can’t use religious symbology ever? Especially Christian symbolism, like…Halliday was probably bathed in it his whole life.

With that said…this mostly makes IOI look like idiots. Which I think is the point?

“Dilettantes,” Art3mis said. “It’s their own fault for not knowing all the Schoolhouse Rock! lyrics by heart.”

Sadly, it also makes them very ineffectual as villains. Do you realize how simple it’d be to do a word search across all the lyrics, books and scripts for things featured in the Almanac? At least for a company with the means that IOI has at its disposal?

Well anyway. The song reveals that there needs to be three people to open the Third Gate, which had already been hinted at by the clue Wade found while searching for the key. This also means that, once they open the gate, they’ll have to race to get to the egg first. Because I’m so stressed about which of these assholes win the egg. I mean we don’t even know Aech and Shoto’s goals and I still don’t want them to win.

Of course, there is one missing step in this plan. Wade obviously figured out a way to disable the Sixers' shield during his time at IOI, and they now know how to open the Third Gate, but they still have to actually get from point A to point B through the Sixer forces. What’s Wade’s solution for that? Just contact every gunter in the OASIS and ask them to play meat shield.

“And you really think everyone will just show up and help us fight the Sixers?” [Artemis] said. “Just for the hell of it?” “Yes,” I said. “I do.” Aech nodded. “He’s right. No one wants the Sixers to win the contest. And they definitely don’t want IOI to take control of the OASIS.”

“No one”? Really? I find that dubious. Or rather, I find it dubious that they’d willingly kill their OASIS character on the off-chance it might make the Sixers lose…but make these complete strangers win instead. Complete strangers who, in the case of Artemis and Wade at least, decided to use their new position of fame and fortune by…remaining anonymous, making no actual stand against the Sixers, and holing themselves up in a stronghold and refusing to even talk to people.

But of course, we’re just supposed to accept that the people will like them more, for…some reason. And really, wouldn’t it be great if, say, Aech was actually Sorrento playing both sides? (He’s not. But it’d be a hell of a twist compared to what the twist around Aech’s identity actually is.)

This plan also means IOI will know exactly when they’ll strike, which will put them on high alert. And they need three people with the Crystal Key to make it through, lest you forgot.

“So we should all try extremely hard not to get killed.”

A master strategist you are not, Wade Watts. As usual, the only character with a shred of humanity is Artemis.

“So I hope you’re right about being able to shut [the shield] down.” “Don’t worry.” “Why would I be worried?” Art3mis snapped. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I’m homeless and on the run for my life right now!”

Artemis, you can’t show genuine emotion in this book! That’ll just make Wade look even more like he’s not human!

Speaking of Artemis being currently homeless, this is true of three of them (her, Shoto and Wade), which might be kind of a problem to participate in a large-scale assault on an in-game stronghold, followed by who knows what kind of challenge the Third Gate itself will be. Well, don’t worry, we’ve got a near-literal Deus Ex Machine to solve that problem!

Yeah, remember how, early in the book, Wade noticed someone knocking stuff in the Basement and wondering if it was an invisible player? Well, that’s what it was. Specifically it’s Ogden Morrow, who, along with Halliday, has literal god mode turned on in the OASIS.

“In addition to being immortal and invincible, our avatars could go pretty much anywhere and do pretty much anything.”

He’s been spying on them all this time, and he makes himself visible now to offer a hand. Turns out, he and Halliday reconnected shortly before his death, and Halliday asked him to watch over the contest and maintain its integrity. Apparently, everything IOI has done (blocking off multiple critical areas, for instance) did not violate said integrity? But now, he’s offering to get private jets for all four mains to his private home, where they’ll be able to log into the OASIS safely and, you know, be safe from IOI trying to kill them IRL. When I told you the book wasn’t interested in the real-world threat, I wasn’t joking. It just removed what should be the actual conflict in favor of the in-game contest.

No one is even a little suspicious of that, by the way. At all. They just take Morrow’s offer at face value and accept it, with Aech having to pick up Wade and get him to the airport, since even Morrow can’t track Aech down. The fact that the possibility isn’t even brought up, after everything these characters have gone through (and their initial distrust of each other) really bothers me, because I have half-expected Morrow to turn out to be the true villain after all since we first saw him in the book, but…no, he’s fine.

And this is where I pause the review to go back to my earliest posts, and how this book doesn’t care or think critically about the dystopia it created. Because Morrow…you know, isn’t much better than IOI, ultimately. They’re all beneficiaries of capitalism; in other words, their massive wealth depends on the existence of the widespread poverty that Wade has observed and experienced. But Morrow is a cool nerd, and he’s done some cool things like educational games, so he gets a pass, I guess?

Yeah. No. Remember how Artemis wants to solve world hunger if she wins the contest? Morrow could do that right now. Or he could at the very least heavily contribute to that. That he hasn’t should make him a natural villain for the story, or at the very least a morally grey figure—the heroes need his help, but don’t appreciate him. But the book doesn’t care about its setting; it’s a dystopia because dystopias are cool, I guess, not because it’s trying to make a point about them. The book’s real interest is the OASIS, and the real world could just as easily be a utopia and it would change very little.

Except…actually, it does change one thing, by implication. See, if the book doesn’t want to be a dystopia, and only cares about the OASIS, then that means the dystopia probably exists to justify that the OASIS exists and is as popular as it is. In other words: the book itself doesn’t believe that anyone could be this involved in a video game, or fandom, unless they were driven to it by desperation and misery. This one thing means the book has a lower opinion of geek culture than…well, myself, at the very least. I’d even argue it’s lower than the mainstream opinion of geek culture at the moment, considering in the 2010s, culture has been dominated by things like Comic-Con and superhero movie. For a book that’s hailed as being for geek culture, is pretty odd that it can’t seem to imagine that people like things without needing a justification.

And if you think I’m pulling this reading straight out of my ass: it would not invalidate it if I did, because that’s how art criticism works, but in this case, it’s also absolutely in the text and we’ll get back to that in the final post of this review. Stay tuned for that exciting conclusion!

Back to the plot. Wade sends out his message to all gunters, and posts it on “every gunter message board”, because that’s how fandom works, I guess. Word spreads, and the media starts reporting on that and Wade’s allegations towards IOI, and Wade feels petty satisfaction.

By now, Sorrento would know I’d somehow gained access to the Sixers' private database. I wished I could see his face when he learned how I’d done it—that I’d spent an entire week just a few floors below his office.

You know what would be a great twist? If they traced the security footage and the digital footprint that Wade must have left to figure out what his plan is and counter it. But that would mean Wade failed at something due to his own hubris, and that would mean he faces consequences for his flaws, so let’s not even pretend it’s a possibility and just skip to when Aech arrives to pick him up instead.

A heavyset African American girl sat in the RV’s driver seat, clutching the wheel tightly and staring straight ahead. She was about my age, with short, kinky hair and chocolate-colored skin that appeared iridescent in the soft glow of the dashboard indicators.

Well that’s not a problematic description at all. I mean, that’s multiple descriptors with racist connotations. Oh, and don’t forget that Wade and Cline both claim to like bigger girls, yet Aech gets described as “heavyset”. I guess only white girls get to be “Rubenesque”. [Disclaimer: I personally find both to be pretty insulting, but the difference is definitely there.]

He recognizes that this is actually Aech because she smiles like her avatar does. And then, miracle of all miracles, Wade feels an emotion. Namely, betrayal. He gets over it quickly though, because emotions are icky.

Whatever anger or betrayal I felt quickly evaporated. I couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh. There was no meanness in it, and I knew she could tell that, because her shoulders relaxed a bit and she let out a relieved sigh.

So Wade is totally a-okay with Aech being actually a black girl. How progressive of him, I guess. Aech insists on explaining to him why her character is male, because that’s another thing the book believes warrants explaining. As someone who played female characters in online games for at least half of my gaming life, I find that half amusing and half insulting, but let’s be honest, in this case, it’s just that the author thought of this character’s backstory and wanted to infodump all over us, and couldn’t think of a more natural way to do so.

So Aech, real name Helen Harris, was raised by a single mother too. Her mom realized that sexism is a thing, but since most things are done through the OASIS, she could escape it by using a white male avatar, and she taught her daughter to do the same. Also, Helen/Aech is a lesbian, which is completely irrelevant, except that her mom kicked her out as a result and that’s why she now lives in an RV and always stays on the move.

Aside from the confirmation that homophobia is alive and well in the future (beyond the casual brand displayed throughout the book up to this point, which I could have chalked up as the author’s unconscious biases), I will note that Aech’s most remarkable trait—how she avoided discovery by literally everyone, including IOI and Morrow—is a result of homophobic abuse. So I guess she should be thankful for her mom kicking her out, lest she would have been killed by IOI? That’s a good unintentional message right there, book.

As we continued to talk, going through the motions of getting to know each other, I realized that we already did know each other, as well as any two people could. We’d known each other for years, in the most intimate way possible. […] None of that had changed, or could be changed by anything as inconsequential as her gender, or skin color, or sexual orientation.

This is the straightest thing Wade or the author could conclude from this. Look, let me be clear: if a person is closeted to you, you are not intimate with them. You are not close friends. Because if you were, they would trust you enough to come out to you. If they don’t trust you enough to come out, either you’re just not that close, or they actually suspect that your reaction would be bigoted and potentially dangerous, in which case you are absolutely not their friend (or a good person). It is literally that simple.

Yes, I know what the book’s message actually is here. We’re all just human, and these things shouldn’t be obstacles to relating to one another and being friends. The problem is it’s phrase as “these things shouldn’t matter”, which isn’t the same as “these things shouldn’t be obstacles”. Because they do matter. They would matter no matter how the world is, but especially in a sexist, racist, homophobic world, they matter. This is why saying you’re “colorblind” or “don’t see race”, or that people’s sexuality “doesn’t matter to you”, is not actually comforting. Identity, believe it or not, is a part of who the person is; if it doesn’t matter to you, and only, say, their interests do, then you’re not really friends with the person as a whole.

I’m just getting all the rants today, aren’t I?

Well, to be fair, the actual plot is pretty sparse. I mean, nothing happens on the road to the airport, or on the flight to Ogden Morrow’s home (whom the book now calls “Og”, because it’s the name of his avatar and I guess real names aren’t for cool people). Said home is shaped like Rivendell from the Lord of the Rings movies—is that interesting? No, no it’s not. Is it interesting that Artemis and Shoto are already here, but decided not to meet in person until after the contest is over, because why would we want an opportunity for character development? Well, I guess it’s interesting, but only in that it’s bad.

So let’s just move on to Wade getting into his immersion rig, and asking Morrow a fairly random question before he logs back into the OASIS.

“I wanted to ask what it was that ended your friendship with Halliday. […] What happened?”

Well, turns out Halliday was in love with Kira too. I know, shocking, he was in love with the one girl in his nerd group. Although, considering we’ve been told he’d only talk to her in-character as their D&D avatars, I think he was more in love with the idea of her than the real person. But hey, this book is literally making the argument that your in-game avatar is realer than the real you. I mean, Wade reverts to calling Helen “Aech” and referring to her as a man for the rest of the book after this one scene where they meet in person. I shit you not.

Literally nothing prompted this question, by the way. Wade just asked out of the blue. So you can already guess that the information is going to come up soon. Or you can just take my word for it that it will.

“Good luck, Parzival. You’re going to need it.” “What are you going to do?” I asked. “During the fight?” “Sit back and watch, of course!” [Morrow] said. “This looks to be the most epic battle in videogame history.”

Aren’t you gonna…you know, help? Why even introduce a character with godlike powers if he’s going to do nothing with them?

And with that, Wade logs into the OASIS to start the climax, and we get a dramatic chapter break. Because I’m so very scared that Wade might not win the contest. Yeah. Totally.

[earthenfay]

The Year I Became so Productive I Wasn’t Productive at All.

How often do you recall reflecting on your day, thinking “Wow, I was busy all day. I feel so productive. But boy, am I tired!” (“And I happened to avoid the one/two/three things I was REALLY supposed to accomplish, like my taxes or that important project..oops.”)

2018 was that year for me. No, it’s not over, but why not reflect on my habits now rather than December 31st? Why not shift the end of this year as if the dates on the calendar don’t matter. Well, that is because in this situation they don’t matter. Why save resolutions until January 1st? 

Anyways, I was driving to one of my photography appointments the other day and I was listening to a podcast from The Minimalists (these guys). There was a specific thought that stood out to me, the issue of being “busy” is not the same as “productive”. 

Let’s put this into context.

Almost every single day this year, or at least between February and now, I have felt really busy. Luckily I no longer call it productive, as to not fool myself into thinking so. I have been so proud of myself for all my efforts. I wake up at 6 or 7am, start dishes and coffee right away. Make breakfast. Tidy as I go. Wipe the kitchen down. Remember that email I was supposed to reply to last night. Put my toddler in his chair with his food. Write down some work appointments I had forgotten to put into my calendar. Book a few more. Remember my toddler needs his face washed, put him down. Finish the dishes I had forgotten about. Move rooms and clean the foyer & living room until lunch. Try to squeeze in vacuuming. Go back and see if people had emailed me back, find more dishes in the living room. Do dishes. Tidy the shoes. The fridge. Do the grocery list. 

The list goes on and on until it’s 8pm and my feet hurt from running around all day. Curse myself for forgetting to feed the dogs dinner. Try to squeeze in more laundry and sweeping and mopping and the vacuuming I really wanted to do but didn’t have the time for. Oops, it’s 10pm and my two year old is tugging on my pants, “Mama, go for nap!”

My life felt out of control. But I was being productive, right? It wasn’t me, it was my crazy life! I was doing the best I could!

Fast forward to August 2018. Jamie and I had been fighting more, and neither of us could remember the last time we went on a date or had sex. My toddler became ecstatic when daddy came home from work and I was hurt he wasn’t as excited about me ever coming home from anything. I thought the fighting was about me not doing enough, not contributing. Some days I would be so busy that Jamie would come home and I’d completely forgot about dinner (or feeding myself the entire day), laundry piled up on the couch to fold; “I’ve just been so BUSY!” I’d say. And he would become exasperated “What did you DO the entire day?!” and I would feel like I’m not the supermom or superwife I wanted to be.  

I wanted to prove to myself I could be even better so we wouldn’t fight.

I got another job. I started University.

It’s ironic, though. This job should have made my life more busy. But this job allowed me to drive around every workday and listen to podcasts. I had that quiet time to reflect, and I realized a few things. What the problem was. And how to ease it.

The problem: I was too busy doing whatever I saw needed done. No planning, no rhythm. This is why I would do dishes three times a day or the laundry would get washed and never folded. Nothing was really done. Just started and left there. Jamie and I fought about me not giving him or my toddler enough attention, because I was so “busy”. But when I took time from being “busy” I felt I had lost time during the day and was behind. I was stressed. 

The things I did to alleviate that “I’m to busy and I am going to fall down and drown!” feeling: 

1. I MINIMIZED our possessions. No, we don’t live with nothing in our home. But less stuff means less to clean. We have 5 plates in our kitchen. 5 glasses. ONE set of cutlery (not 3 random sets mixed together). An intentional amount of toys for my son, not a mass to clean every day. We have 4 pens in the entire house! And they go in ONE pen holder cup! Talk about “putting things away!” when they actually have one place to go. Pens run out? Buy another, or ask a friend if you can split purchasing a pack so it’s cheaper and you don’t get 6 pens, you get 3. No clutter. Less brain clutter comes with the territory.

2. I made a list. I am a lover of lists. List on the fridge for groceries. List in the office for daily tasks. List in the pantry for food stocked. It’s glorious. We recently acquired a chest freezer for those school year/winter meals. I have a list ready for that too, so we know what is going on. Less time is spent rummaging through your own stuff, and less time thinking “What am I supposed to do today?”

3. I keep a calendar/planner. Now this goes along with #2. I LOVE my planner. I currently use a 2018 planner from ban.do and adore it. Every morning I get a coffee, set the bub up with breakfast in the office with me, and my planner is one of the only items I keep intentionally on my desk and open to the calendar page. I make it a goal to NOT jump into housework immediately, which seems counterproductive but taking those 15-20 minutes in the morning to relax and look over your day is actually the best first step. I’ve missed doctor/dentist/you-name-it appointments because I got lost in housework!! Take a moment, take a deep breathe. Eat some breakfast and NOT while you are on your feet and on the go! Eating your breakfast sitting down and while it’s warm, looking over your day, will make a world of difference. Plus I noticed my toddler looks forward to sitting with me because we are very chit-chatty in the morning. :) 

4. I learned to say NO. I have been really bad for this in the summer. Overbooking myself or just leaving myself no time for error or gaps in between appointments and work and coffee dates and just ME time. I’ve had to cancel more times than a good friend should and it really affected my relationships with my friends and family. I needed to learn to calm down and leave some gaps in my schedule, or else I would always feel rushed and stressed. I finally have gotten to a place where I can say, “No, Monday I have school and an appointment after, can we have coffee Thursday when I have nothing going on?” I used to try to put coffee before or after those obligations I already had and it would stack up, fast. I would end up burnt out or have to reschedule because I’m running late. Just say no if it doesn’t work (and be honest with yourself)!

5. Finally, I realized (and this is another from The Minimalists podcast I believe) that if everything is a priority, nothing is a priority. I learned that taking time out of my day to play with my toddler instead of doing those 5 dishes or wiping the fridge out is important sometimes. I prioritized. My son became more excited to see me because he knew that I was going to interact with his world a lot more, and I learned when to put the rag/broom/mop/mouse/phone down and just say “I’ll get to this later. I’m going to take a break”. Jamie appreciates it too, I hadn’t realized how much I was prioritizing keeping myself busy with my two jobs/the house/my school. And that’s not to say those things aren’t important, I just didn’t understand how to balance those different areas of my life and prioritizing helped (making a list to clarify priorities is amazing as well!). 

The interesting thing is I have more going on in my life than I have in many years. But it’s something to note that I feel more in control and at peace with daily life more than I have in a very long time. 

Here is to a productive few last months of 2018. 

xoxo

Rosie

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 66

The floor is lava and also giving Kim caffeine is a very, very bad idea. Only 6 chapters of this clusterheck left to go!

Also on AO3 as usual where the Morse code actually works, and don’t ask why a snake speaks Morse code

The peace conferences began the very next day, though luckily Lahiffe’s schedule was so relaxed that the first one took place in the afternoon, which gave Kim plenty of time to prepare for it with Max’s help, and gave Alix time to sleep off the annoying headache she seemed to have acquired – though that wasn’t easy when Markov flew in through an open window and started saying, “I told you so!” far too loudly.

The conference was similar to the one that Kim had attended last year, and at least this time he knew what to expect. When he walked into the room he was greeted by many other members of the International Alliance, some who he remembered meeting last time, some he couldn’t remember at all. The fact that they were all being so nice to him soothed his nerves a bit. Sure, these were the heads of the most powerful countries in the world, but that was a good thing, right? They wouldn’t judge him for needing their help – that was why the International Alliance existed in the first place!

Being a representative of an actual member state this time, Kim was given an allocated section of the room to sit in, which meant he wasn’t near his friends. He didn’t mind so much having to sit away from Alix, since she wouldn’t be any help to him, and Nino and Markov weren’t attending anyway. But Max was all the way in another corner with the diplomat from his country, and there would be no way to get any helpful whispered advice from over here…

Queen Sol opened with a generic speech, welcoming everyone in the room. Then she gestured to Kim, saying, “And an especially warm welcome to our newest member, Prince Kim of the kingdom of Lê Chiến!”

Plenty of smiles were thrown his way. For a second he froze up – was he supposed to say something? Already? Like, right now?

But then Sol carried on speaking, and he allowed himself to relax a little. It was strange to think how eager he had been to be a king when he was younger, not realizing that ruling a real country was like this, and not the glamorous adventure he had always imagined it to be. Being an actual leader was seeming an ever more daunting task. Stressful meetings, making difficult decisions about things happening so far away they might as well not be real, having to act all proper so people wouldn’t see through everything and realize what a reckless idiot you were, the real threat of assassination…

He tried to pay attention. Last year he had been daydreaming the whole time, well, he wasn’t going to let that happen again! This time he put his head on his hands and actually tried to focus.

Yes, yes… news about a civil war going on in Raincomprix, oh, was that why Sabrina had been so miserable at school lately? Perhaps he should have asked her about it properly… something about the emperor of Bourgeois abdicating and fleeing the rebelling commoners, well that had been bound to happen at some point, hadn’t it… and apparently his daughter was the new empress now, so hopefully that would make things better and it would still be safe to go to school…

Wait.

The emperor’s daughter?

But that – that was Chloé! Stuck-up Imperial Princess Chloé, the one from his class at school!

Surely she was way too young to be an empress? Too inexperienced? Still a student? How could she possibly be an empress?!

Kim snuck a look at Max to see him looking just as surprised at the news. Queen Sol was still speaking, though now what she was saying was interesting enough to actually pay attention to.

“The young empress, as of yet, seems to have the support of her citizens, wanting to make reforms. We have already received a request for food aid, as the supplies over in Bourgeois have been mismanaged for so long that there is simply not enough. This will be the second matter to discuss on our agenda for this year’s conferences. In the meantime, though, while Bourgeois does appear to be stable enough that our younger members will still be able to attend their school there, the empress herself will not be returning – and the state of the transport and school will most certainly deteriorate during this national crisis, perhaps making it more dangerous in the future to travel there.”

So Chloé wouldn’t be coming back to school? And from the sounds of things, neither would Sabrina. First Adrien, now them. How long until the rest of the dwindling royalty class went the same way? Kim had known for ages, just as everyone else had, that the Bourgeois Empire was crumbling to pieces, and it was only a matter of time before school itself would be cut off. But he hadn’t expected it to happen while he was still attending.

Sol had now moved onto some other topic, and Kim found himself unwillingly zoning out again. He just didn’t understand half the stuff she was saying! And then she started taking opinions on certain issues from the rest of the members, and Kim sat there silently with nothing to contribute except nodding along whenever anyone said anything that sounded vaguely sensible.

At least Max and Alix didn’t bother saying anything either. Maybe it wasn’t just Kim being dumb after all – maybe it was just that he didn’t know the others here that well, and didn’t have much experience with this sort of stuff, and maybe ten years down the line he would actually be able to participate properly in these discussions.

If he even survived that long…

In fact, it did seem to be a thing that the younger members in the room were quiet. And he knew for a fact he wasn’t the only one not paying attention – the foreign princess sitting opposite him, the one from the Peace Ball yesterday, wouldn’t stop gazing at him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking! As much as he liked the attention, he did wonder if he should go public about Max being his sweetheart, just in case she was going to try anything. Being as handsome as he was, he knew when someone was checking him out.

What was her name? He had been introduced to her once but he couldn’t quite remember, and the loopy cursive handwriting on her name card was impossible to read from here. O… Oudiee? Something like that? Eh, whatever.

The rest of the peace conference for that day passed without anything eventful. It was just like being at school, really – so much to take in all at once and no time to process it! By the end of it Kim’s brain was spinning from so many place names and people names and events that he would probably have forgotten all about by tomorrow. Well, perhaps not, since the conferences were continuing tomorrow, and as the only available representative from his country, he had to attend.

So… this was what his life would be like all the time after being crowned king. Great.

-

-

-

Over in the Bourgeois Empire, the new empress was having a difficult time too. Chloé had ordered plenty of emergency meetings to keep the fragile empire afloat long enough for help to arrive, and yet her only loyal subject seemed to be Sabrina, who wasn’t even from here – all the supposed “advisors” kept lazing around and making excuses not to show up! No wonder her father had made such a mess of the empire if those were the kind of people at his side.

She was half tempted to fire them, but that would result in backlash and contempt. At least for now she just had to deal with it. Technically, as empress, her word was final and she was allowed to make decisions without input. But the commoners were waiting to see what kind of ruler she would be, and she didn’t want to give off the impression that she was the kind of person to disregard all advice, or some kind of dictator, or anything like that.

It was just such a difficult position to be in! School could never have prepared her for the stress of this!

She had spoken once on the phone to Adrien since then. It was still dangerous, of course, but a little less so now that Bourgeois and Agreste had officially cut ties. She had told him that while there was not a bounty on his head any longer, the message would take longer to travel to the more inaccessible regions of the empire where guards were still stationed – regions that Adrien would have to travel through if he wanted to come back to school. For now, at least, it would be best for him to just stay put.

Sabrina entered the room just as Chloé was putting the phone down.

“Chloé, I have good news!”

“Oh, thank goodness…” Chloé rubbed her temples, ignoring the powder sticking to her fingertips. She had bigger problems to deal with right now than keeping her makeup flawless, as much as it hurt.

“Opening up cheap trade with Raincomprix has worked. Almost all the faction leaders have agreed to a temporary ceasefire and negotiations, and they’ve removed the execution order on my family! My dad’s going to go there immediately and see if he can get things to a peaceful solution.”

Chloé breathed a sigh of relief. That really was good news! The fate of Sabrina’s kingdom and family had really been haunting her, and it lifted a huge weight off her to know that there was a solution to it.

“So what do we do next?” Sabrina asked.

“Are you staying here then?”

“I think it’s safer for now. I don’t really trust the faction leaders, but my father knows what he’s doing. And you, you’re not just running a country, but a whole empire! You need my help!”

It had been like that for years. Sabrina was always helping out Chloé with everything. Carrying her things for her like some kind of medieval lady-in-waiting, doing her homework for her once they’d started school, always there for her even when she didn’t deserve it. Chloé felt grateful – and more than a little guilty.

“Sabrina, thank you so much,” she said, aware that tears were building up behind her eyes. “You’ve already been a great help. It really kind of feels like it’s just us two, trying to save millions of people all on our own…”

What would she give to have anyone else here right now with her? Someone to take care of things long enough for her to rest, long enough for Sabrina to have a break from the unfortunate political situations she just couldn’t escape from no matter where she went.

Anyone, anyone from school, anyone at all!

But wait… there was someone.

“Hold on,” Chloé said, beginning to rifle through the phonebook again. “There must be a number for Rossi in here, surely…”

“Are you talking about Lila?” Sabrina asked. “What are you calling her for? Are you going to ask her for help too?”

“Exactly. She ran her own spy ring at school when Adrien was in danger, and I’m sure she could do the same here. Her help would be so invaluable, wouldn’t it?”

“She would have to somehow leave her country and come here, though…”

“The sooner the better, before the empire collapses any further. Don’t forget she’s not ‘properly’ a princess, since her father’s title isn’t hereditary. Strictly speaking, she’s a noble, and therefore she can move countries whenever she wants. No abdicating necessary. And with her help, I’m sure things will go a lot smoother!”

A smile lit up Sabrina’s face. “You’re right! With the three of us working together, we can definitely sort this out!”

“I suppose our class back at school will have to get used to all three of us being absent, won’t it?... Aha, I’ve found the number… well, here I go…”

Chloé dialled the number in and waited. She and Lila were in similar time zones, weren’t they? Hopefully she would be around…

“Hello?”

That was Lila’s voice – how lucky was it that she was the one to answer the phone? Usually an official would do it!

“Lila, it’s me!” Chloé said. “Chl–”

“Ah, hello sweetheart. I thought I would be hearing from you. That’s why I’ve snuck the phone into my room.”

Oh, classic Lila, always so cunning and devious. Chloé fought off a rather unladylike grin. “Listen darling, I need your help.”

“Let me guess – you want me to join you in Bourgeois as a member of your court?”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess, I suppose! In any case, Rossi has been feeling rather… stifling lately. I would welcome a challenge.”

“So you’ll come here? Are you alright with having to leave school? Will your parents mind?”

“I am 18 years old, my parents can’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. Helping you out with your empire is much more important than school. I want to make a global impact.”

Of course she did. Lila loved being the centre of attention. It made sense for her to want to be remembered as a hero for helping fix up one of the world’s biggest and most broken empires.

“Well then, I’ll be eagerly awaiting your arrival,” Chloé said, curling the telephone wire around her finger absent-mindedly.

“I’ll try to make the journey quick,” Lila replied. “So… see you soon?”

“Yes. See you soon.”

“Well… I’m in no hurry, so you can be the first to hang up…”

“No, you do it! I’m the one who made the call in the first place, so…”

“I think you should be the one to...”

“No, you ought to…”

Chloé could see Sabrina trying very hard to supress a laugh out of the corner of her eye. Well, so what if she didn’t want her short conversation with Lila to end? She missed her!

But at least she’d see her soon again, and with her help, the three of them could surely overcome the odds stacked against them. The empire would survive. It had to. It was just a matter of time and effort, that was all.

-

-

-

-

The remaining peace conferences over the next few weeks were much the same as how the first one had been. Kim barely said anything during them, and looked forward to the times in between when he could just hang out with his friends and have fun, without having to think about complicated politics. It always seemed so much effort to get anything done this way! The Bourgeois Empire needed aid, but it had to be thoroughly discussed and put to a vote before any action could take place – was it always like that? Even in emergencies?

By the time the holidays were ending, Kim was glad to be returning to school. Lahiffe would have been a much nicer place if he’d actually had the opportunity to enjoy it properly. At least he was already used to school. Luckily the Bourgeois Empire still seemed to be doing well enough to keep the place open, so it was alright to return for now.

Just before he was leaving the palace to get on the train, right as the porters were taking his luggage, a few of the little nobles who hung around here ran over to him with a box in hand.

“Prince Kim!” one of them said, holding it out at him. “We just wanna say you’re really cool! Here’s a thank you present for being Nino’s friend!”

Kim took the box, very much hoping that this was not chocolate. “Uh, thanks guys… what is this?”

“COFFEE!” a smaller one screeched.

Coffee? Kim opened the box, expecting to see coffee beans, but it appeared that they had all been ground up into fine brown powder already. He took a smell – okay wow, that was… kind of awful. But hey, he had always wanted to try coffee. Even if it was gross.

“This is really awesome,” he said, putting a big smile on his face, knowing Nino’s little cousins were always very impressed no matter what he did or said. “I can’t wait to drink all of this and get really hyper, just like you.”

He poked the little one on the nose, making him giggle.

“Yay, I’m glad you like it, Prince Kim sir!”

“Nino drinks coffee when he needs to have energy,” the other one said. “You already have lots of energy though, so what will happen when you drink it? Will you be unstoppable?”

“Heck yeah!” Kim flexed one of his arms. “I’ll do million push-ups and lift up seventeen people at once. I’ll outrun a panther. I’ll…”

“Miss your train because you’re too busy showing off?”

Oh, of course, the train! Lahiffe was a kingdom that placed far less emphasis on differences between social ranks and classes, so a train wouldn’t be delayed even for royalty.

“You’re right, I gotta go,” he said. “But I’ll see you again someday, I promise!”

They waved at him, beaming. “See you, Prince Kim!”

How sweet, honestly. No wonder Nino was such an awesome, chill person when he had people like that to hang out with all the time. And they had given him coffee because they wanted him to be “unstoppable”? That was so nice of them!

Kim turned around to leave, only to almost drop the coffee box when he saw that foreign princess right there, walking towards him – how long had she even been there?! Had she been watching him? It looked like she was going to speak to him, but he really didn’t have time. Pretending he hadn’t noticed her, he ran off to catch up with the porters and catch his train.

-

-

-

The first difference about school was the fact that there were fewer guards at the entrance. Supposedly Chloé had been diverting funds from the school for use in more urgent matters, such as making sure the populace had enough to eat in areas that weren’t quite as affluent.

The second difference was that there had already been a sharp drop in the number of students attending. While all of the royalty class were still in attendance, aside from Adrien, Chloé, Sabrina and Lila, there were noticeably fewer nobles around. Perhaps they didn’t consider the empire stable enough anymore?

Whatever it was, it put a strangely sombre mood back over the school. Classes went on as usual, far away from all the chaos and mess that was going on in other regions of the empire, but with an underlying sense of unease. It seemed like things were shifting somehow. Was it good? Bad? No one knew.

-

“Hmm, yes, I have come to a conclusion,” Max said, picking up the beaker of liquid on the table in front of him, adjusting his glasses. “From the tests I have done, I can conclude that this coffee does not contain any poison, other than the fact that caffeine itself can be toxic when taken in large enough quantities. This is safe to drink.”

“Yes!” Kim pumped a fist in the air. “Thank you so much! So, how much of this stuff can I drink without dying?”

Max put the beaker back down, sighing. “I’d usually say not to drink above six cups per day, but considering how hyperactive you already are, that number should be much lower for you…”

Kim was already dunking coffee powder into a mug and waiting for the kettle to boil. “Six? Cool. I can’t wait.”

“Kim, why do you even want to drink so much coffee? What’s the point?”

“Coffee gives you energy! I’m already super strong, but now I’ll be even stronger! Won’t that be cool?”

Max had already started laughing before Kim had even finished speaking. “So you want to impress me with your super strength, is that it?”

“Well um… yeah, I guess…” Kim turned back towards the kettle, hiding his blushing face. Trust Max to be able to see right through him.

“In that case, I should tell you that coffee doesn’t work like that and it won’t give you super strength. Restlessness, insomnia, possibly anxiety, yes. Somewhat similar to a sugar rush, perhaps, and you already know what that feels like.”

“A sugar rush, but from this bean juice stuff? Nice.”

“And I’m already very impressed,” Max continued, “so you don’t need to try too hard on that. Though keep going, by all means. It’s very entertaining. And cute.”

Even without looking, he could tell Max had a smug grin on his face. Kim tried to keep his hand steady as he poured the boiling water into the mug. “Yeah, well… you’re cute too, so there…”

“Oh, and coffee can be quite hard to drink without adding milk and sugar into it. It’s very bitter.”

“Milk? Sugar? Max, do you think I’m some kind of wimp?” Kim turned around with the mug in hand and took a sip, flinching a little when it burnt his tongue but quickly ignoring that. It had been so hot that he couldn’t even taste it anyway. “I don’t need any of that lame stuff. I’m gonna drink six whole cups of this stuff, and then I’m gonna… I’m…”

“And then you’ll go do something incredibly reckless, like try to walk on the roof drainpipes, or pick up Alix and dunk her into a basketball hoop, or accidentally propose to me again, or…”

Wait, he remembered that?! Kim hurriedly took another sip of coffee – then almost dropped the mug as it burned him again. Max was watching him with the most annoying, adorable smile on his face.

“Maybe I’ll wait for this to cool down before drinking it, haha…” He put the mug on the table.

Hmm… slam-dunking Alix into a basketball hoop did sound very fun…

-

-

Six cups of coffee later, Kim flew down the corridor with Max trailing behind at a sensible walking pace. This really did feel like a sugar rush – he had so much energy and nothing to do with it!

“Alix, there you are!” he yelled when he saw her hanging out with Markov near the entrance to the library.

“Kim?” She frowned at him. “Why are you yelling? And running? You’ll get a deten–”

“I just drank six cups of coffee and I’m gonna slam-dunk you into a basketball hoop!”

“Wait, what?! No – no wait – don’t – uhhh THE FLOOR IS LAVA!”

Kim hadn’t heard that phrase since when he was little, when he and Marinette would try to get across entire rooms without touching the floor. Something in his brain kicked into action. Before he could even think, he leapt up onto the display table nearby. Alix took several steps away.

“There we go. Now you can’t get down, and I am perfectly safe from being slam-dunked into a freaking basketball hoop, like jeez Kim, what the hell…”

Oh, so that was why she had said it? To keep him trapped up here? That was so unfair!

“Well the slam-dunking thing was Max’s idea, so there!” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“No it wasn’t!” came Max’s voice from down the corridor as he finally caught up. “Well alright… maybe a little bit…”

“And the floor is lava for you guys too,” Kim added. “Either everyone plays or no one does.”

While Max was content to look down at his feet, shrug, and say, “I guess I die then, I’ve lost, too bad,” Alix instead hopped up onto the display table too, followed by scrambling up Kim and sitting on his shoulder, with her pet snake sitting on her shoulder.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Kim said, wondering if he dared knock her off, or if she would literally kill him for that.

“Nope. Rules are that we’re not allowed to touch the floor. I can sit here as long as I like.”

“I… I’ll…”

“Slam-dunk me? Well I don’t see any hoops around, or anything to help you get away from here, so I guess you’re stuck until you inevitably lose. Which means I win.”

No! He couldn’t give up that easily! Max and Markov were both there giggling away at him, and he had so wanted to impress Max, rather than making a fool of himself like he always did!

But what else could he do…? He just had to let this annoying tiny pharaoh perch on his shoulder like some kind of parrot sidekick or something…

Well, unless she got so annoyed that she intentionally left, of course…

“You’re so scrawny,” he said, poking her in the arm. “Look at this. No wonder you can’t win an arm wrestle anymore, you’re tiny! My neck is bigger than your thigh, I swear. Markov, get over here and use your magic camera laser vision to measure…”

He trailed off when he noticed that the snake was tapping out something on the side of Alix’s pharaoh headdress.

--. --- / --. . - / .- / ... -.- .- - . -... --- .- .-. -..!

“That’s a great idea!” Alix said. “Markov, you got that, right?”

Markov nodded, those little eyes becoming smiling arcs. “I’ll go do that right away!” He whizzed off without another word.

“What did… what…?” Kim looked at Max for help. “Do you know Morse code, by any chance?”

“Only a little,” Max said, very much looking like he was trying and failing to get his laughter under control. “The snake was going too fast so I didn’t quite understand.”

“Oh, Alix, whatever you’re up to, I swear, I’ll get revenge–”

Markov returned, carrying a skateboard in that little hand of his. Why was he doing that? The next second he dropped it onto the floor, and Alix immediately leapt off Kim’s shoulder and landed on it.

“Yes, I’m free! The floor may be lava, but a skateboard isn’t!” She put the snake down by her feet. “Hey buddy, you’ll give me a push, right?”

The snake started pushing the skateboard down the corridor with its tail.

“Bye, Kim! Have fun being stuck on that table all day! And I’ll be having fun being not slam-dunked!”

Kim had been watching in disbelief, and now had to stop himself from just launching off the table. “Hey, you! Get back here! You can’t leave me here!”

But she had. The skateboard was now out of sight, with stupid Alix and that stupid snake on it. Markov, cackling surprisingly evilly for an adorable little robot, flew off after her. Yeah, he definitely, definitely spent too much time with her considering that annoying Kim on purpose seemed to have become his new favourite pastime.

Kim sat down on the edge of the table, so much energy running through his blood he could practically hear his own internal organs. Maybe he did have too much coffee after all…

“You know, you’re allowed to lose,” Max said, stepping over and giving Kim’s cheek a little stroke.

“Not to her, I can’t!”

“The floor isn’t really lava, sweetie.”

“Mmmm I know…”

“You can’t spend all your coffee energy if you’re stuck here, can you?”

That was a good point. But still, the thought of surrendering a challenge, when he never surrendered challenges, never ever…

“She’ll gloat loads if I let her win,” he whined.

“But so would you! Is it really worth it? You’ll look rather ridiculous staying there all day, on a table in a corridor of all places. Shallow victories are very short-lived, and the instant gratification accelerates your reckless nature…”

Aww, he was being nerdy again. “Max, if you just stay here with me then it won’t be so bad. She’ll step off the skateboard at some point, ‘cause she’s as stupid and forgetful as I am, and then I’ll have won. And if you’re talking to me then people won’t think I’m a weirdo for staying here. They’ll just think we’re chatting.”

“Or…” Max stepped a little closer, and Kim was rather glad that no one else was around to see how red it made his face. “…I could just promise you a kiss if you step off that table and join me here in the lava…”

Kim leaned forward. “Or you could just kiss me right now, while there’s no one around…”

For a second Max hesitated, but then he grinned and started walking away. “Sorry, Kim! My mind is made up. Come and find me later, if you ever make it off that table! Perhaps get Ivan to carry you?”

“Hey, Max! Not you too! Wait!”

But Max was also gone.

Kim knew he was being stupid and stubborn. But he never allowed himself to be the loser when it came to the floor being lava! Marinette had never won a single game against him, despite how often they used to play it. He had to stay here on this table, his hands practically shaking with so much jittery energy and nothing to do with it.

And he wasn’t going to ask Ivan to carry him!

-

After a while several nobles passed by without comment. Some time later, more nobles came out of the library, giving him strange looks but not saying anything. He was grateful that the school currently had a lower population – though quickly reminded himself that the Bourgeois Empire being in such a mess was probably not something to be happy about.

Marinette was the first person to say something when she passed by.

“Oh – Kim! What are you doing there?”

“Um… I…”

“Is this a silly challenge?”

“Sort of,” he admitted. “You see, Alix said the floor is lava, so…”

Marinette giggled. “You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“Of course I have! I used to be all arrogant and mean and a jerk, but I’m way cooler now, so I’ve changed loads! I just don’t like losing challenges, and anyway I’m probably going to win, ‘cause I always win…”

“Why are you talking so fast?”

“I drank six cups of coffee. It didn’t taste great but I didn’t even put any milk or sugar in it, that’s how hardcore I am. Can anyone else chug six cups of black coffee in a row? I don’t think so.”

“I’ve chugged seven,” Marinette said, completely deadpan, before walking away.

“SEVEN?! Wait, Mari! Come back!”

Oh, she had gone too! Well, he couldn’t expect anyone to stay here with him for long when they all probably had things to be doing with their lives. He didn’t even have his phone with him! This was really starting to suck.

Several more people passed, some of them making comments, some just judging silently.

“Kim, why are you randomly sitting on this table?”

“Kim, why are you taking a nap here right now?”

“Kim, I’ve passed you three times now, don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Kim, need me to carry you anywhere?”

“No I don’t, Ivan!” Kim snapped, as Ivan walked past with a smirk on his face. He was half sure Max must have said something to him to make him say that.

This was getting so, so tedious. Kim had almost fallen off the table while trying to doze off for a while, which was impossible anyway because of how hyper his brain was right now. Maybe this would have been a little easier if he hadn’t had all that coffee! And up here on this table there was no way to get to a nearby toilet either, which was probably going to be an issue soon.

Well…

If he lost this challenge to Alix, then fine. Whatever. He could take it. He was cool enough to do that. He wasn’t the same stubborn fool that he used to be, right? And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already lost challenges to Alix before.

Plus, his head was suddenly starting to feel strangely heavy, like all that caffeine energy had left him in a rush. Just like the crash at the end of a sugar high.

He tentatively dangled a foot over the edge of the table. Dare he do it? Walk on the lava?

Pfff, it wasn’t lava, it was just floor. He put one foot down, then the other. There! Was that so difficult? Now he just had to go find Max, and hopefully avoid Alix for the rest of his life. He ran off down the corridor – then slowed to a walk as the tiredness hit him.

Yep, drinking six cups of coffee in a row had probably been a bad idea, and he hadn’t even got to slam-dunk Alix after all that…

-

“Max, I did it!” he said, stumbling into Max’s room and immediately sitting on the bed. “I walked on the lava! And now I have a headache…”

Before he even knew it, Max walked over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Good! And by the way, you actually won the challenge.”

“Um… what?” Kim was not sure if he had heard right, either due to being so drowsy, or being dazed thanks to Max’s kiss – something that he still wasn’t used to, even after all this time.

“Alix just sent me a message saying that she stepped off the skateboard the second she was out of sight and just carried on her day as normal. She just thought it would be funny to leave you there all day.”

“What?! That – that pesky little–”

“Yes, she’s pure evil, isn’t she?” Max chuckled, sitting down beside Kim. “Though technically you could have claimed to have won anyway. You haven’t taken off your shoes yet, so you’ve been walking on those the whole time, not the floor. Technically speaking.”

Trust Max to be able to come up with the best solution of all! Kim put an arm around his sweetheart, some of his fatigue somehow melting away. “Well then, you haven’t lost either…”

“No, I suppose I haven’t…”

“Hey! I just remembered! It’s not long until the Cupid Festival, which is our first anniversary! We have to do something special!”

“Like what?” Max asked. “Should I show up below your window with a guitar and serenade you? Put a rose between my teeth? I know how much of a hopeless romantic you are.”

Kim was indeed already swooning just at the thought of it, and hastily tried to put his brain back into gear. “Um… that would be sweet…”

“In that case it’s settled. This year it’s me doing the thing with the guitar. Perhaps we can go to the fountain again and have a picnic or something. We can decide nearer the time.”

Kim just pulled Max closer, his heart picking up speed in a way that felt so much better than coffee. The Cupid Festival this year was going to be awesome, no matter what. He would make sure of it.

[atwoodk]

Doctor and Patient Interactions 

We know that people do not typically like to go to the doctor. What are some of the reasons that might make people not present to healthcare providers? Think about individual, systemic, and/or relational factors that can impact this phenomenon. What are some of the potential consequences of not presenting for medical care when it could be helpful?

In general, nobody likes to be unwell and a lot of individuals will put off going to the doctors for reasons like not being able to afford to have time off work, the cost of the consult, individuals think they can deal with symptoms, they might not know where the most appropriate place to go, might have had a bad experience, or that they think they will experience a lack of cultural sensitive from health professionals and this is only to name a few.

When looking at the individual level the first thing that comes to mind is the construct of gender roles.  Women do tend to go to the doctors more than men do, but their experiences will be vastly different as when women report having symptoms it falls into this category of “women problems”, and in reality, this impact majorly on whether women will want to go to health professionals as their health is being problematized by this category. Why would you want to seek professional help, if it’s all going to be labeled as women issues? On the other hand, men don’t go to the doctors as much because it is assumed that men should be fit, strong, and healthy and surely going to the doctors would upset this perception and they feel they should work through the pain. This can lead to more serious problems occurring, and the initial problem is harder to treat.

Systemically, there are a variety of issues that can impact whether people will present to healthcare professionals, starting with access to doctors/healthcare professionals. There might not be any access in your neighborhood and for communities in poverty there might not be access to care leading to a drive further away, there might be limited bus runs, and childcare may be needed. Then once people arrive at the doctors/health professionals they are limited by time constraints of a 15-minute consultations where they are expected to explain what the problem is, have time for the doctor to make a diagnosis, tell the patient the diagnosis, and then have times for explanations and questions. This is an immense amount to do in a limited time, also with the possibility that the time will be cut short. I have had the experience as I’m sure most people have of the doctor being late for your appointment because of the previous appointment, and then the doctor tries to rush through your appointment to catch up on the appointment after you. Which ends in your feeling that you haven’t had enough time to explain yourself, or you aren’t fully aware of the diagnosis and are left with questions. In cohesion with the limited time with the doctor, the environment can play a huge role as it can be noisy, there might not be much privacy and with that, you might not feel comfortable participating in physical examinations as it could be something very private and personal. Therefore,  this time pressure and lack of comfortability, it can affect whether or not health professionals are going to get the full story of what is wrong with the individual, consequently potentially impacting on the individual’s health or being misdiagnosed.

On the relational aspect, there is a wide range of barriers, for instance, the health professionals’ attitude towards individuals, as mentioned earlier women’s health is problematized through alignment of the biomedical model and what has been ingrained in certain health professionals. From this view, they are not looking at the whole picture and missing pieces to the puzzle that could be filled using the biopsychosocial model.  The attitude that can be presented to the individual off this basis is that of an authoritarian or dismissive health professional, which can involve little respect for the person or their culture, involve negative attitudes, negative verbal or emotive cues, and dominate decision making. I have had an experience where I had an appointment with my occupational therapist, and she said to me “you should be better by now, you must be doing something wrong” so it felt like I was being blamed for not being better. When in fact is it not a health professional’s job to find out the reasoning behind why you are not better? and not to end up being blamed for it? It is this scenario that does put people off getting help and they are the ones that suffer due to a decline in health and not getting the appropriate treatment needed.

Another massive problem is with dominant decision-making as the patient is not getting all the options and in fact, there could be an option that would work better for them based on their current situation than what is being offered. Which highlights what has been said and demonstrated through this whole course that health is complex and it is never going to be ‘one size fits all’, and it is a concept that needs to be moved away from in giving people the best possible care in regards to their health.

Furthermore, there is also the barrier of technical language which health professionals use when addressing and explaining to patients about health constructs. Patients would describe it as health professionals speaking another language, how are patients supposed to engage when they don’t know what is been spoken about, therefore limiting their ability to further ask questions? In using technical language, it not only contributes to the patient not understanding what is going on, but it also can impact on compliance with medications whilst also reinforcing power imbalances, which can have a detrimental effect. Alongside the technical language being to present, it seems that the cultural language is unseen in interactions between patients and health care professionals that can contribute to barriers to seeking healthcare.  

The consumer voice in the health care video clip was very relational in this topic as it stressed the importance of health is for the consumer, so why is it that the biomedical model still so dominates and that there has not been enough movement to incorporate the environmental, cultural, or trans-inclusive care that is so immediately needed. The clip also pointed out that health professionals delivering services and making policies are going to lose out on meeting the needs of their services they are providing and that’s by not listening to the consumer who is their target audience. They are missing the keyway to making their services successful, by doing something as simple as listening to the consumers who are always going to bring to the table the knowledge these providers are lacking. With such a minor adjustment it allows being able to tailor services appropriately, which means consumers are getting what they need to improve their health, whilst healthcare professionals are improving on their services. Is this not a win-win situation right here?