#the straights inserting themselves again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

persevereforahappyending · 10 months ago

Text

Luck Runs Out |Part 2|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Mention of drugs, Mention of abusive/toxic relationships

Word Count: 4.5k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Mabel sighed, relieved to finally be home. She slung her backpack off, tossing it onto the kitchen table, as she also tossed her keys onto the counter. She was seriously regretting taking summer courses. She didn’t load up on classes, but she wanted to take as many as she could as fast as she could, since she was going back to school so late, she felt like she had some catching up to do. Her first year was all about taking core classes, basically re-learning everything she learned in high school, pointless but she guessed sort of necessary. Now that she was in her second year she was finally getting into the classes for her major, which was exciting in the moment but was now killing her.

She pulled out her phone from her back pocket when she felt it buzz, rolling her eyes as she saw Charlie’s name light up the screen. They broke up a few months ago and he still called her, it was hard to get over someone when they kept trying to insert themselves into her life. Charlie had been great, he was what Mabel thought she wanted, but as much as she cared about him, as much as she had loved him, they just weren’t right for each other. Charlie was content to work on the fishing boat with his brother and even help out his dad with the business side of things. Mabel couldn’t fault him for that, he loved it, and he was doing a great job, their little fishing company had come so far in just a year, they were still starting out but with his dad investing they were making quick progress. Mabel just wanted more, she wanted to finish school, she wanted to make something of herself, she wanted to get out of this town and see the world.

Mabel had never been anywhere, she’d barely even left the state, always needing to stay close to home for one reason or another, she dreamed of adventure and Charlie wouldn’t give her that. When she broke up with him, he had offered to do better, to try harder. He didn’t understand that he wasn’t the problem, that Mabel just wanted a different life than him. It was fun while it lasted and she still loved him, she was pretty sure she always would, but they just weren’t on the same path anymore. She was sure Charlie would drop everything and go on a trip with her, he would sacrifice what he could to make her happy, but she didn’t want him to, she didn’t want him to give up on his dream and what made him happy just to be with her.

Mabel stared at the ringing phone before tapping the red button, sending him straight to voicemail. It was better this way, he just needed to move on, he was a great guy and he’d find someone who wanted the same out of life as him. Mabel walked over to her bed, flopping face first and let out a tired groan, her face buried in the sheets. She felt the phone vibrate in her hand again, she lifted her head to see Charlie calling once again. She didn’t hesitate this time, tapping the red button before dropping her head back into her mattress again. Not a second later her phone was vibrating again.

“Dude!” Mabel spat as she aggressively answered the phone. “Take a-”

“Open the door,” he said, sounding out of breath.

“What?” She sat up, looking across the room at her front door just as rapid banging began on said door.

“Open the door, please.” He sounded desperate, his breathing heavy.

She kept the phone to her ear as she walked to the door, opening it with a furrowed brow. Her eyes went wide at seeing Charlie, phone in one hand, while his other arm was wrapped around you. Costa was on your other side with an arm wrapped around you, most of your weight leaning on him as Charlie had been trying to call her. She watched as the two guys silently begged her to enter. She stepped aside not knowing what else to do, she watched as they dragged you to her bed, gently laying you down as best as they could. When they stepped away, she saw Costa’s shirt covered in blood, in the spot you had been leaning on.

Mabel walked closer, getting a good look at you. You were soaked, you shivered, whether from the wet clothes clinging to your body or the fever you were clearly running based on the sweat coating your brow she didn’t know. There were dark circles under your eyes which remained closed the entire time, you silently flinched with each movement as if you were in pain. Mabel furrowed her brow at you, you looked familiar, like she had seen you around town a few times, but she didn’t know you, she’d never spoken to you. When her eyes drifted down to the rest of you, she zeroed in on your right shoulder, your jacket was soaked with blood.

Charlie and Costa got to work, taking off your jacket and tossing it onto the floor. Costa moved to your feet, taking off your boots and soaked socks, tossing them into the same pile. Mabel couldn’t take her eyes off your shoulder though, there was a small rip, that’s where the blood was darkest. Charlie was trying to look into the hole without actually touching you.

“What happened?” Mabel asked, she barely felt her lips move before the words came out. She couldn’t take her eyes off the wound on your shoulder.

“What happened?” Mabel asked again, this time louder when neither of the boys so much as turned to her.

“They were shot,” Costa said.

“What!” Mabel’s eyes went wide, just as Charlie ripped part of your shirt. She finally got a good look at the wound, they were right you had been shot, it was still bleeding. “Why did you bring them here?”

“We need your help,” Charlie said, finally turning to face her. Mabel looked at Charlie, his eyes wide, his hands now covered in your blood and shaking. She had never seen Charlie like that, even during everything that happened last year, Charlie always came off as calm, like he wasn’t afraid of anything.

“You need a hospital,” she tried to reason. She didn’t know why they thought she could help, she didn’t know anything, they needed to take you to the hospital.

“We can’t.”

“Why not?” The boys looked at each other, silently debating in they should tell her not. “You bring someone with a gunshot wound to my apartment, as they’re bleeding out in my bed,” Mabel snapped. “I deserve to know why you can’t take them to the fucking hospital!”

“Drugs,” Charlie finally snapped. Mabel’s eyes went wide, no, no, there was no way she was being dragged back into that scene. She just got out, after everything that happened last year, she was out, she was in school, she was trying to do something with her life. “Drugs,” he whispered again, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“Get out,” Mabel whispered.

“Mabel,” Charlie said softly.

“Get out!”

“Mab-”

“No! No, you can’t do this to me. You can’t bring this here. I don’t want any part of this.”

“Neither did we!” Charlie stepped closer, he reached for her hands, but she pulled away, crossing her arms. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he admitted, staring at her with those puppy dog eyes of his, begging her to understand. “I just-all I know is-” he looked back at you, you were getting progressively worse, looking paler by the minute. “They need our help, and I can’t just let someone die,” his voice broke.

“Why me?” Mabel asked, her eyes not leaving your face. She knew she was already going to help; she couldn’t just ignore someone bleeding out in front of her, ignoring the fact that said person was literally in her home.

“I didn’t know who else to go to. I just figured you might know how to help…” he trailed off his eyes finishing his sentence ‘because of your mom and your history with this stuff’.

Mable closed her eyes and slowly let out a breath. She wasn’t a doctor, not even a nurse, but she learned from a young age how to patch people up. Mabel clenched her jaw, shaking her head at the memory of her childhood, she had been just ten when she first helped her mom with an overdose. She had to patch up her mom when she couldn’t meet payments and her dealer got angry. She had to learn how to stitch up wounds with what she had when a boyfriend of her mom's would come in with a gash on his head or a knife wound in his gut.

“I need a rag and a bowl of water,” Mabel said, Charlie already moving to the kitchen, nearly tripling over his own feet in the process. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Costa ran, coming out a moment later with the kit. “Was it a through and through?” She asked walking over to scrub her hands with soap and water. She didn’t have gloves, but she could get her hands as clean as possible at the very least.

“What?” Charlie asked confused as he held the bowl of water and rag.

“The bullet,” She pushed past him, making her way to your bedside. “Does it have an exit wound?”

“I don’t know,” he looked at her confused.

Mabel suppressed an eye roll before gently touching your shoulder, lifting you off the bed just enough for her to see behind you. “It does,” she mumbled.

“Is that good?”

Mabel nodded, “Means we don’t have to try and dig it out and risk more damage.”

Mabel got to work, wiping the blood around the wound, you winced whenever she applied the slightest bit of pressure. She cleaned the front and back before taking some gauze out of the med kit, putting it on the hole in the front then some in the back before she began to tightly wrap it. When she was done and satisfied with the wrapping, not worried it was too tight and cutting off circulation or to loose, she leaned back with a sigh.

She started to reach for her phone when she noticed the blood staining her hands. She got up and went back to the kitchen, scrubbing away as much blood as she could. She glanced back to see the boys standing around awkwardly, Charlie acting like he had never been in her place before, as if he didn’t spend almost every night there when they were together.

“Can you get them up?” Mabel asked. “We need to change the sheets and get those wet clothes off.”

They nodded and got to work, one of them gently lifting you up, while the other stripped the bed. Mabel ran to her dresser, digging through it until she pulled out a large shirt and some sweatpants. Charlie helped guide you onto the couch in the corner, away from the bed. Mabel got down on her knees and began to strip you down as well. She threw the wet clothes into a pile with the other stuff. She made sure to quickly rub a towel down your body, minding your wound to make sure you were dry before, with some slight difficulty, getting you dressed in the new dry clothes. When she was finally done, she turned to see the boys finishing putting the clean sheets onto the bed.

Mabel put one arm around you, struggling to lift you off the couch before Charlie ran over, wrapping an arm around you as well. They led you to the bed, your body leaning on Mabel as Charlie pulled back the sheets then as gently as she could Mabel laid you down. She pulled the covers all the way up to your neck. She could see you still shivering, your skin was freezing, paler than she knew a person could get.

Mabel reached for her phone again, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name she was looking for, a name she never wanted to call. She pressed the name, taking a second to take a deep breath before bringing the phone to her ear.

“Who are you calling?” Charlie asked.

She ignored him, choosing to stare at you, needing the reminder as to why she was calling this person. “Hello?” A man answered the phone. Mabel’s breath caught in her throat at hearing his voice.

“I need your help,” she said, trying to maintain her composure.

“Oh?” Mabel could practically hear his smirk.

“I need you to bring pain meds,” Mabel continued, refusing to allow him to say anything more. “And anything you’ll need for a gunshot,” she whispered as she looked back at your unconscious form.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” it wasn’t concern in his voice, it certainly would never be that, it was curiosity. “What kind of trouble has the great infallible Mabel gotten herself into?”

“Just get here,” Mabel snapped. Her eyes instantly found Charlie’s, but she quickly looked away. She knew Charlie’s eyes were still on her, she could practically feel his concern from across the room.

The man let out a tired sigh. “You know this is going to cost you.”

“Whatever,” Mabel glared at Charlie, who frowned at her, giving her confused puppy dog eyes. Her eyes shifted, finding you again, a total stranger, but someone she couldn’t just let die. “You’re on a time limit.” She took the phone away from her ear, aggressively hitting the red button before he could say anything else.

Mabel sat in one of the chairs at the small kitchen table, her arms crossed, and jaw clinched, shaking her head. She was wishing she could time travel and go back to earlier when her only worry for the day was how exhausted she was from school and how she was going to get all her work done on time.

She glanced out of the side of her eye to see Costa and Charlie looking at each other, tossing quick glances at her. Costa started gesturing towards her and silently whispering at Charlie. Mabel closed her eyes, sighing, it was only a matter of time before one of them asked again.

“Hey, Mabel,” Charlie asked hesitantly. Mabel looked at him irritated, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to continue. “Who was that?” he glanced back at Costa who was looking down at the floor, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket on the bed.

Mabel sighed, calming herself down before answering, “A doctor.” Charlie’s eyebrows raised at that, he glanced at Costa as if to ask, ‘did you know about that?’ and Mabel followed his gaze to see Costa with the same look. Mabel had never mentioned the guy before, certainly never around Charlie, he had been out of her life for years before she even met Charlie. “He’s…” she clicked her tongue, thinking of the best way to describe the doctor. “Friends with my mom,” she settled on but if the boys saw the way she clenched her jaw on the word friends they didn’t say anything.

“Now,” she said, turning in her chair to fully face Charlie and Costa. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Charlie grabbed a chair, pulling it near your bedside so he could still face Mabel and Costa, who elected to continue standing. Charlie sighed, resting an elbow on his leg as he ran a hand across his shaved head.

“We went out, early,” Costa spoke up. “There was a huge storm last night and we wanted to get out there as soon as possible. “We were on our way to a regular spot of ours when we caught sight of something floating in the water.” Costa looked down at you. “Turned out to be,” he gestured at you. “We got them aboard, saw the wound first, and then…”

“We saw the drugs,” Charlie finished. “There were three large packs,” he gestured with his hands trying to show how big they were. “Wrapped in plastic and taped up, like the one we picked up last year.” His eyes met Mabels, she knew exactly what he was talking about, she had seen it plenty of times, it’s how they packed the drugs for drops to make sure they didn’t get contaminated by the water. “They were bigger than the one we got though.”

“So much bigger.” It was Costa’s turn to start gesturing with his hands, trying to accurately represent the size. “Like three or four times bigger.”

Mabel sucked in a breath. The drop Charlie and the crew picked up last year was a small one, it was a one and done drop. What they were describing now though was much bigger, Mabel would bet money there wasn’t just three packs, that there was a lot more somewhere. The fact that three got loose from the others worried Mabel, three large packs was a lot of money to go missing, whoever was bringing these drugs in wouldn’t be happy.

“And did you leave it?” she asked. When she was met with nothing but silence, she looked from Charlie to Costa, seeing both of them suddenly finding the floor much more interesting. “Where is it?” she asked as calmly as she could.

“On the boat,” Charlie answered after a moment. “It’s hidden.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” She shook her head, this was so much bigger than last year, the crew had no idea what they were putting themselves in the middle of. They got lucky that last year Tom’s dad killed the dealers and got arrested, that was actually a best-case scenario. This was so much bigger and there was no one to dig them out of the hole this time, even if they didn’t intentionally involve themselves in it, even if they had only meant to help someone.

They were interrupted by three loud knocks on the door, making all three of them jump. Mabel got up from her chair but paused on her way to the door to turn and face the boys again. “Don’t say anything,” she said, pointing at each of them. She didn’t turn back to the door, ignoring another knock as she waited for both of them to nod in agreement.

She opened the door, seeing the doctor leaning against the door frame. He bumped her shoulder as he shoved his way in, not waiting for an invite. He walked through her place as if he owned it, glancing at the two men by your bedside who were now both standing, their arms crossed.

“It’s like you don’t trust me,” he said, looking back at Mabel.

“I don’t trust you,” Mabel replied, crossing her arms.

“Then why call?”

“You’re the only doctor I know who works off the books and can get pain killers.”

He smirked at her. Mabel glared up at him. “Where’s my patient?” Mabel glanced behind him at you. He turned without another word, setting his med kit on your bedside as he got a look at you. He got to work, moving to the sink to scrub his hands then pulling on gloves before he started peeling back the bandaging Mabel had done.

Mabel stood behind him, watching his every movement. She knew the man was a good doctor, he patched up plenty of people, saved plenty of lives, in and outside of the hospital. She wouldn’t classify what he and her mom had as a relationship, more like a mutual agreement, a business contract if anything. They definitely hooked up; Mabel was sure of that. Mabel assumed it happened when her mom couldn’t pay him. They first met when Mabel’s mom got rushed to the hospital for an overdose one time, Mabel had walked in on them whispering to each other and then the doctor handed her a pill bottle.

That’s how it started. Mabel’s mom might have worked with common drug dealers, selling, and cutting product but she got the good stuff from the doctor. She would get pain killers and all kinds of prescription meds from him; it was a side business he ran. He was also the first person they called when one of the dealers got too aggressive when Mabel’s mom missed out on a big deal and smashed a glass across her face, giving her a nice, jagged cut on the side of her head. Mabel stood in the doorway, watching as the doc picked shards out of the cut then stitched her back up. He always did things as if they were out of the kindness of his heart, but he always made people pay for his help, if they couldn’t pay with money, he was good at coming up with another means of currency.

“How’s it looking?” she asked after watching the doctor poke around your wound for a few minutes.

“Not bad,” he mumbled. “Missed anything vital, was a through and through, and you did a decent job cleaning it.” He looked back at her with a smirk, “Guess you did learn something from me.” Mabel rolled her eyes, she hated to admit he was right, she learned how to patch up so many wounds because of him, she just didn’t have all the supplies for properly dealing with a gunshot, well as properly as one can without taking the person to the hospital.

The doctor continued to work on you, cleaning up your wound and giving you a shot of what Mabel assumed was painkillers. Costa and Charlie actually did as she asked and remained quiet the entire time, though Charlie did glare at the doctor, not that he paid Charlie any mind. The doctor put new bandages on you then gently put your arm in a sling.

He stood up from the chair, packing up his kit then walked over to Mabel. Mabel looked up at him and he handed her a small pill bottle. “Two every twelve hours, got it?” Mabel nodded. “I left the wound open, so change the bandages twice every day and make sure to clean around the wound when you do so.” Mabel nodded along, taking in all his directions.

Mabel walked with him as he moved towards the door. Mabel even opened the door for him. He stepped out, putting his hand up to catch the door she had started to close. Mabel huffed, glaring up at him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, whispering for only her to hear as he said, “I’ll text you about payment.” He pushed off the door and disappeared back down the hall. Mabel slammed the door, clenching her jaw, she knew he was going to charge her something outrageous, but it wasn’t like she could just let you die.

“What was that about?” Charlie asked, cautiously moving closer to her.

“Nothing,” Mabel mumbled. She knew she should tell him; Charlie was rich and could more than pay whatever the doc decided she owed, and this was Charlie’s problem, he brought it to her door. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him though, she didn’t want him having to save her, even though this was all his fault.

His phone buzzed and as soon as he looked at the screen, he let out a loud groan. “Shit,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Tommy.” He quickly typed back a message. “He wants us back. We set out today only to come straight back after finding them,” he nodded back to your sleeping form. “We still need to get our catch.”

“Go.”

“What?” he was still texting Tommy, most likely arguing with him. “No. We can’t go. I can’t just drop this mess on your doorstep and then leave.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty shitty thing to do,” Mabel deadpanned. Charlie looked up at her slightly shocked and was about to continue his argument or try and defend himself, but Mabel wouldn’t let him even get started. “But everything needs to seem normal. This is serious shit you’ve now gotten yourselves into. I don’t know what happened out there, but I know it can’t be good and whoever they were with,” she nodded to you, “can’t know you found them. You guys,” she glanced at Charlie and Costa. “Need to pretend everything is normal so you need to go on your run.”

“But-”

“Don’t,” Mabel held up a hand. “Everything is fine. Everything is normal. You don’t know anything; you’re going out for your catch. Don’t say anything to anyone and don’t do anything with the drugs. Got it?” she stared into Charlie’s eyes, making sure he knew how serious she was.

“Got it,” he finally said, nodding along. “Are you sure you’ll be okay with them?” he gestured back to you.

Mabel nodded. “They’re injured, I’m sure I can take them if they try anything.”

Charlie chuckled, Mabel couldn’t help but smile, it had been a while since she heard his laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “I’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out when you guys get back.”

“Okay.” He gave Costa a nod and they made their way out, leaving Mabel alone with you.

Mabel locked the door after the guys left. There was no reason for her to suspect anyone would come looking for you here, but she was also on edge when drugs were involved. She walked around her place, cleaning up the mess, throwing away the bloody bandages, and even tossed your wet clothes into the dryer. She made her way to your bedside, looking down at you once again, you already looked better than when the boys had brought you over a few hours ago, the color was slowly coming back to your face.

Mabel caught a glimmer of silver around your neck, she had seen it before when she changed you into dry clothes, but she was preoccupied in making sure you didn’t die that she didn’t pay the shimmer much mind. She reached down, gently pulling the silver chain out from under your shirt. At the end of the necklace was a little silver trident, she tilted her head at it, she guessed it wasn’t completely unusual for a fisherman to have something of the sort, but it certainly wasn’t common.

Knowing she couldn’t leave you alone she grabbed her backpack, pulled out all the stuff she’d need and got her laptop set up. She usually did her homework on the couch but opted for the kitchen table. She had just enough space to spread out her work but was also close enough to you that she could be there if anything happened. Mabel opened up her laptop, and got to work on her homework, she couldn’t help but glance up at you every few seconds.

#mabel (finestkind)#mabel finestkind #mabel x reader #mabel x fem!reader #mabel x you #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind 2023 #luck runs out

316 notes · View notes

frvnkcastles · 1 year ago

Text

ONLY HOPE FOR ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: After you’ve gone through a surgery, Frank is there to support you through the recovery.

Warnings: Mentions of surgery, feminine nicknames, just a brief mention of a shower together, fluff

Word count: 1.3k

Author’s note: This is straight up just me trauma dumping LMFAO but I thought maybe someone else will find themselves in a similar situation and could use something like this. I had to get surgery because of a tumor in my ovaries and I’m currently in the process of recovering and all I want is Frank to be real. GAHHH.

”I’ll be right there when you wake up, okay, sweetheart?”

Those were the words Frank had reassured you with right before you had been taken to the operating room, and you clung onto them like a mantra or a prayer to keep you going. You had never been in a situation like this before, and despite all the calming speeches you had gotten from the surgeon and the anesthesiologist, you were scared. You were nervous. But above all, you were glad that you weren’t alone — you had Frank, and that was giving you all the courage you needed.

You imagined holding his hand when they inserted the cannula, and you pictured his kisses on your forehead when they started giving you oxygen, and when the doctor warned you that the medicine for the pain would make you woozy, you closed your eyes and thought about Frank’s beautiful, beaten face to give you comfort. And thinking about him was how you passed out, without even realizing it.

Hours had passed, but to you, it felt like you had only blinked when you finally opened your eyes again. Everything was blurry and disorienting, and for a moment you thought you were still on the operating table, but as you slowly adjusted to the bright surroundings, you realized that wasn’t possible. No, instead, you were in the recovery room, concealed from prying eyes by white curtains, and your whole body nestled comfortably under the heated blankets.

”Hey, there’s my brave girl”, a familiar, deep voice cut through all the confusion and buzzing in your ears, and immediately laser-focused on him, you rolled your head to the side and found Frank seated next to you, just like he had promised. Your eyes still felt so heavy and difficult to keep open, but you could still see the faint smile directed at you, and a quiet giggle rose up your throat as you lazily gestured at Frank’s nose to brush against him.

”You’re here”, you whispered, almost like you couldn’t believe it, and Frank chuckled.

”Promised ya, didn’t I?” he retorted before taking your hand and giving it a soft caress. ”The doctor was here just a few minutes ago. Said everything went just as planned. You did perfectly, sweetheart”, he continued, and with a bashful smile, you let your eyes close again.

”I didn’t do that much”, you pointed out, and shrugging, Frank shuffled closer to kiss the back of your hand.

”Seems to be like you’re the perfect patient”, he hummed, and you couldn’t help but snicker slightly.

Before you could say anything more, your nurse appeared from around the corner, asking if you were feeling up to eating something. You answered in the affirmative, and as she left to get you a sandwich, you looked back at Frank.

”I hope you know how much it means to me that you’re here”, you murmured, your speech still a little slurred, but Frank didn’t mind. He wasn’t cowering away from this side of you — you had seen him at his absolute worst, so now that it was your turn to be vulnerable, he was honored to be by your side.

He would have told you as much, but your nurse returned with a snack and something to drink, as well as some painkillers, and Frank respectfully moved aside to let her do her thing. Once she had set all the food down, you began to awkwardly inch upwards to sit, and only then you realized how much in pain you were. You grimaced and whimpered as you attempted to sit up, and before the nurse could move a muscle, Frank was up from his chair and letting you put all your weight on his arm so you could comfortably adjust your position. You must have dug your nails into his arm, but he didn’t flinch — something that made the nurse smile as she thanked Frank for the help.

You squeezed your eyes closed and exhaled deeply, trying to breathe through the pain, but as soon as you got your hands on the water brought to you, you downed the painkillers eagerly. Frank watched attentively, back in his chair, a concerned gaze over his dark eyes as he followed your gentle movements to pick apart the sandwich you had in front of you.

”Need any help, just say the word”, Frank assured you with a gravelly tone, and you knew that he would have fed you if you had asked for it. Still, you managed, and simply let your other hand rest in his while you ate.

Once you had eaten and the nurse had helped you to the bathroom, you were officially allowed to go home — on the condition that you wouldn’t be alone for the first 24 hours, and Frank was taking that immensely seriously. He swore to be by your side, and as much was obvious from the get-go.

”You sure you feelin’ okay? You look a little… I dunno. Don’t wanna offend the lady”, Frank cleared his throat while walking you towards the car, his hand gently on your back to support you, your bag slung over his shoulder so you didn’t have to worry about anything extra.

”I’ll be okay, Frank, thank you. Let’s just go home, okay?” you pleaded, and with a curt nod, Frank helped you to the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel and starting the car.

”Home it is.”

Needless to say, you were bedridden for the days to come, and Frank wasn’t kidding around about it. He practically carried you to bed when you first got home, and he made sure to fluff your pillows and get you at least two different kinds of drinks to keep you hydrated. When you got hungry, he was happy to help you eat, and when you needed to get up, he was right there to keep you upright. He delivered you your medication right on time, and you weren’t allowed to worry about a thing. When it was time for your first shower, he got undressed with you and made sure to tenderly wash you and take care of you, his calloused fingers carefully peeling the bandages off of your body.

The next problem was falling asleep. You were tired, drained even, but not being allowed to roll on your stomach was a personal level of Hell you hadn’t been looking forward to. You were propped up on several pillows, laying on your back, groaning and complaining and Frank was by your side, drawing soothing patterns on your arm.

”Sleep will come, baby. Just lay here with me, yeah?” he grunted, and supposing you had no other choice, you reached for his hand and squeezed it tight.

You could tell he hesitated, but slowly, he draped an arm over your belly, careful not to put too much weight on you, but simply just aching to hold you and be close to you. He breathed you in and kissed your shoulder softly, and it made you smile.

”Thank you, Frank”, you whispered, and with a quiet sound of disagreement, he lifted his head from his pillow.

”You got nothin’ to thank me for. It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. I like takin’ care o’you. And I’mma do it properly”, he insisted, and as you looked at the sincerity in his eyes, you were mere seconds away from tearing up. Going into the surgery, you had been so anxious, wondering how you’d get by without your family to support you, but turns out, you didn’t need them. You just needed Frank.

”I love you”, you spoke quietly, and for a moment, the two of you just stared into each other’s eyes, nothing but devotion between the two of you.

Slowly, Frank leaned in to give your lips a kiss, sweet but deep. ”I love you, too”, he smiled before kissing your forehead once more, ”now get some sleep, pretty girl so I can look after you again tomorrow.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

296 notes · View notes

creature-wizard · 1 year ago

Text

LOL, you shitheads again? You must really love getting your asses kicked if you're coming to me, of all people.

For anybody unaware, the Satanists behind the website mentioned in this ask are a bunch of openly antisemitic conspiracy theorists appropriating Eastern traditions, and they've been trying to advertise themselves and increase their SEO by sending asks like these. Each ask is tailored to appeal to whatever they think your beliefs might be, but they all follow a similar template that goes something like:

What do you think of [URL redacted]? They claim to follow [insert gods here], they [something about supporting abortion], and they're the largest [insert group here] group in the world."

The spirituality promoted on this website is rooted in deeply antisemitic conspiracy theories and pseudohistory. If I addressed every single claim they made, I'd be here all day, so I'm going to stick to a few examples:

They claim that Satanism isn't a reaction to Christianity, but is in fact older than Christianity. This is straight-up pseudohistorical bullshit.

They claim that Jews have perpetrated a grand conspiracy to conceal true spiritual knowledge from the masses. They outright cite The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Czarist hoax created to justify violence against Russian Jews in the late 19th century. They claim that Christianity is a Jewish tool of world domination and mind control.

They claim that "Jewish ritual murder" is a thing. This is blood libel, an old conspiracy theory used to demonize Jews.

They claim that Jesus was a fictional creation made out of tropes "stolen" from various pagan gods. There is no actual evidence for this; it's another conspiracy theory. For a scholarly look at what most probably happened, I recommend How Jesus Became God: The Exaltation of a Jewish Preacher from Galilee by Bart D. Erhman. Or if you can't get your hands on the books, just look into Dr. Ehrman's videos/lectures on the topic on YouTube.

They push the extremely racist ancient aliens bullshit, claiming that the pagan gods were actually aliens.

They claim that the serpent actually represents human DNA, life force, and kundalini. This is a conspiracy theory that disregards the diversity of lore about serpents in various belief systems and traditions around the world, and culturally appropriates from Eastern traditions.

Their idea of what constitutes genuine Satanic practices is basically New Agers' bastardized versions of Eastern concepts and practices.

They claim that the "Tree of Life" is actually a stolen pagan symbol that maps the human soul. Again, an unsubstantiated conspiracy theory that disregards the actual significance of trees within the various traditions that involve them.

They claim that the Pentateuch was ripped off from the five suits of the tarot, and that tarot has ancient origins with alchemical significance. Tarot was actually invented in the 15th century for playing games. Mystical symbolism was applied by occultists in the 18th century.

The creators of the site apparently believe that the Simon Necronomicon is a genuine translation of older documents. It's not. The Necronomicon was a literary device created by HP Lovecraft; every text purporting to be a translation of the Necronomicon is a modern creation.

If you get an anon message like this in your inbox, do not post it. These people want you to share their URL to get more publicity and spread their antisemitic conspirituality. Don't give them what they want.

#answered #antisemitism #conspirituality #satanism #satanists #conspiracy theories #conspiracy theory #conspiracism #witchblr #paganblr #occultblr #racism

309 notes · View notes

thatdamnmutt-exe · 1 month ago

Text

"Nice Hands." • Stanley Pines Drabble

AN:

Listen I'm having horrendous Stanley Pines brainrot right now. just enjoy this shit.

Extras:

Stanley Pines x Fem!OC (Name: Charletta)(Letta for short). A smut drabble after she comments on his hands CUZ LORD KNOWS HES GOOD WITH HIS FINGERS

————————————————————————

“You have some nice hands.”

That’s all it took before Charletta was on Stan’s lap, legs spread open and his fingers plunged deep inside of her. She was a shaking and blubbering mess as she came undone on his fingers for the umpteenth time that night.

“You like these hands, huh? You like them so much that you’ve gotten off to them four times. You’re such a whore.” Stanley teased as he rubbed Charletta’s clit to overstimulate her.

“Ah! Mmm, god, I can’t-“ She struggled to form words and to close her legs. Her head had fallen back against Stan’s shoulder while her nails dug into his strong arms.

Stan could only chuckle at Charletta squirming in his grasp, absolutely loving the sight before him. His lap may be soaked, but that didn’t matter, getting his wife off was all he cared about.

Charletta knew how much Stan loved being complimented on his arms, chest, and hands. She knew how worked up it could get him.

Stanley, despite his confidence, could be quite insecure at times. Most of it was because of his physique and his age- two insecurities that Charletta absolutely adored about her older partner.

His hand slithered up to her neck and squeezed her throat lightly. Charletta's back arched as her breathing caught in her throat. His hand left her dripping cunt and massaged her thighs.

"That's it darlin', get off to just my fingers. No other man could every get you this wet like I do..." He groaned in her ear as he rocked his hips up against her overly sensitive cunt.

The overstimulation ran straight through her body, making her moan his name, "Oh fuck- Stanley..." Her body was on fire as it ached with desire.

He could only chuckle in her ear, "What doll? Still haven't had enough?" His palm pressed down on her sensitive clit, causing her to almost scream. His large fingers traced the outline of her entrance, lightly brushing over her twitching hole. "Clenching around nothing. So needy." He breathed out as two fingers slowly inserted themselves inside Charletta's dripping cunt.

“Oh-“ She breathed out. Her mind grew foggy and her eyes drooped shut. The two fingers moved slowly in and out of her, the palm of his hand rubbing over his hardened clit.

His pace quickened as he rocked his hand back and forth. Her thighs started to shake and her stomach started to coil, signaling she was close again. The grasp around her neck got tighter, making Charletta's head spin.

She was too fucked out to properly display words, Stanley knew this, and it made his confidence build. "You close for me? Too high on my fingers to speak, dollface?" He chuckled against her ear. He only received an whine in response.

Her legs strained against Stanley's, her thighs quivering as her orgasm ran through her body. Charletta croaked out a weak moan as her back arched, overstimulation setting in as Stanley continued his skillful fingers.

"Shhh, shhh, shhhh. Don't want Ford to hear us dolly." His hand left her throat and moved to cover her mouth. He sped up his movements just a little bit, working to reach another orgasm.

Charletta's breathing grew ragged as her nails dug more into Stanley's arm. She could only moan against Stanley's hand as another orgasm ripped through her, only this time squirting all over the floor below them.

Stanley's fingers slowed down, watching with amusement. His ego would be sky high the next day after this display. They both stayed still as Charletta recovered.

Stanley removed his hand from her mouth and moved it to wrap around her torso. He moved her so she was cradled in his lap, covering her with a blanket. "I'll clean that in a little bit. Just want to admire my 'handy' work." He chuckles as he moved to lick the juices off his fingers.

"Shut up Stan!" Charletta blushed and snuggled against his neck to hide her embarrassment. She was dreading the next day...

————————————————————————

#gravity falls #gravity falls oc #gravity falls smut #gravity falls oneshot #gravity falls imagine #stanley pines #stan pines #gravity falls stanley pines #gravity falls stan pines #stanley pines smut #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x oc #stanley pines x fem!oc

53 notes · View notes

norlaching · 4 months ago

Text

Cliche but still stupidly accurate Maxley fanfic or oneshot idea

So basically Bradley (and maybe also Max) finally graduate College and now it’s up for the poor GAMMA leader to find get into a successful job as a Doctor (since that’s what he’s suspected to be studying for in College with how long he’s been there)

But then suddenly, his parents (depends on who you feel is more of a bad parent towards him) to tell Bradley that they’ve set him up for an arranged marriage with another wealthy family’s daughter — he hates it but can only agree and heads off to cry somewhere because his parent(s) didn’t rven acknowledge him for his achievements; just straight up pulled the “marriage card” and he guesses “grandkids card” would be pulled next after all of this.

So he storms off and decides to cry somewhere in the dark of the night, where Max is ironically close to, so Max spots him, tries to scoot his way into a conversation (which Bradley tried so hard to turn down), but eventually they get there and decide to talk for a bit (not getting to personal at the moment).

Max sort’ve unofficially befriends Bradley and they soon go their separate ways once the Goof gives him a tissue to blow on once he subtly sees the other is upset.

The two end up meeting each other in the same spot again because the universe (all of us) randomly just wanted them to be there again and again; and they grow to be close friends, and their little GIANT ASS crushes (from whatever the hell the “An Extremely Goofy Movie” was with all that tention) grows into a BEHEMOTH as time grows.

Eventually Bradley meets his “fiancé” and they don’t really get to know each other and instead sit in silence when they’re left by their parents to bond — which is just awkward until Max decides to call and asks to meet up.

And he goes, but when he seed the girl as quiet as a mouse, he decides to let her join so their parents don’t get suspicious (he tells a butler to tell them they’re going on a “date” or something). And blah blah blah, they all get to know each other along with Max’s other friends and they all learn neither Bradley nor the girl (or whatever name you can think of) doesn’t wanna get married.

A high and over his head Bobby randomly mutters a plan when Bradley and the girl and him are left alone while PJ and Barrette girl (does she even have a name?) dance while Max goes to get them some more food: and that was it.

So during the fake relationship with Uppercrust and his “new future wife” towards their parents and family members, they start to hatch plans behind their back.

Max and Bradley get closer and closer until one day, they both find themselves on the dance floor and kiss for the fucking first time, and take it backstage where they enjoy dancing in the rain instead of near a lot of eyes (where Bradley grows paranoid and conscious of due to his parents and reputation). Tada! They start to date.

The day of the wedding comes, and Bradley calls Max and his friends to come at [insert the damn time], and they agree. When “Bradley’s bride” starts to walk down the aisle, she makes a run and Bradley creates the illusion of he’s after her to bring her back to their new life, when really; he’s just following her towards their escape.

They makes it out of the door, and Max, PJ, Bobby and Barrette girl come in masked with a get away car, and the girl dives head in first (like that one video of where the bride runs away and the driver drives off while her legs are still up in the air) while Bradley takes shotgun and Max drives off quickly before anyone could catch them.

And then they crash the car, blow the car up to where not even the drivers plate is identifiable, and Bradley and Max are happy, with the girl (who somehow stole the expensive ass wedding rings from the ceremony) gives it to Bradley and Max and they basically propose.

So fast forward, Max and Bradley gets married, Bradley changes his name to “Bradley ‘Tennyson’ Goof�� (Tennyson just fit in with the name, you can change it if you like), and they are happily living together with their kids (surrogate or maybe Max is trans).

Bradley continued with being a doctor so he can provide for his family, and Max is probably a tattoo artist or something (who knows?), PJ and his girlfriend are engaged, Bobby is still high as fuck, and the girl is a happy aunt/sister to Bradley.

And they live happily ever after or something! (That is if Goofy doesn’t screw up with how clumsy the poor old man is)

I’m probably gonna turn this into a fic, but you are still free to use the idea (with credit of course)

#maxley #an extremely goofy movie #max goof #bradley uppercrust iii #goofy movie #marriage proposal #arranged marriage #this is so damn cliche #but it’s still so maxley coded #i cant believe i forgot to post this #they have twins #trust me they do #one looks like the respected other but with swapped personalities #BABY FEVER IS GETTING TO ME #DISNEY MAKE ANOTHER GOOFY MOVIE PLS!!!#they’re literally so Goofy 😭#I LOVE THEM 💕 💗

68 notes · View notes

everythingharrypotterblog · 11 months ago

Text

charmed [16]: 'cat, rat, dog, and dove' (remus lupin x reader)

a/n: WELCOME BACK TO CHARMED. WE ARE HERE. we have arrived to this moment. BUCKLE THE FUCKING FUCK UP.

brief summary: the year has culminated into this one fateful night at the shrieking shack. word count: 9k

series summary: if you're here, u know what this series is abt im not gonna waste space and recopy it here THIS CHAPTER IS ALREADY TOO LOADED.

series masterlist here

join taglist here

16.

The sun was out. Its rays peeking through the leaves of trees, their heat was much stronger in this month of spring than it was in autumn, when Y/N and Remus took their first early morning walk to escape from the Castle. It became a habit they maintained all school year, and it was so hard to believe that they had already walked their way to final examinations season. Two terms had rolled by, laying down all the tiles needed to strengthen their relationship even more.

Y/N’s arm was around Remus’ bicep. It was warm enough now for them to abandon their jackets, and they strolled through the Castle grounds in simple button-ups.

Remus peeked down at Y/N, who by reflex caught his eye. He shut an eye tightly in an exaggerated wink. Y/N smiled, resting her head against his arm for a second.

“Can’t wait for our kid to experience all that is Hogwarts.” Remus said.

Y/N’s eyebrows knit together as she beamed up at him.

“Rem…”

Their chests burned from elation as they continued in their stride.

“Thinking a bit ahead though, don’t you think, we’ve got more than 11 years before we get to that point.” Y/N chuckled.

“Oh, you’re right. Before that, it’ll be you n’ me teaching them.”

“I agree with you. Sending them to Muggle primary school seems way too risky for exposure.”

“I do worry about socialization though.”

“Hmm. Me too. We should probably get in touch with other wizard families that have children the same age as ours.”

They came to a small halt as they overlooked the train tracks.

“I can’t wait for our kid to get on the train for the first time.” Y/N sighed.

Remus patted her hand in his. “What did you feel your first time on it?”

“Terrified.” Y/N chortled. “I was anxious even as a child. You?”

“Me too. But I guess, something really deep inside me- I don’t know. I just felt like my life was going to change, I guess.”

Y/N smiled softly at the gentle man before her.

“And we have to take that train really soon again.”

“Yeah.”

“Crazy.”

They continued walking, the castle of Hogwarts standing tall against them, hovering and watching over them as it has done for so long.

As the year continued to draw to a close, the exam season proceeded on. Today were the Charms finals for the 3rd-years, as well as the 5th-years’ OWL’s. Even the Weasley twins had been spotted with their books open, working in a corner of the library.

Y/N downed the last of her tea, as she rifled through a pack of fresh grading sheets. She waved her wand, and yesterday’s 2nd-year evaluations floated upwards, inserted themselves neatly in a folder, and slid themselves into her briefcase.

She clapped her hands together and got up to the door, opening it to a crowd of her 3rd-years.

“Ready?”

She let them trickle in and take their seats at the individually separated desks. Walking through the aisles, she placed an exam sheet on each one facing down.

“Alright, everyone, please get your things straight and then leave your bags up here in the front. Remember, you’re only allowed your quills for the written part.”

“You guys have one hour. Don’t forget to check both sides of the paper. Time starts… now.”

A synchronized whoosh of 30 papers being flipped over echoed across the room, followed by the etching of quills.

Y/N hated the written exams. She had nothing to do but to count the tiles in the classroom and twiddle her thumbs.

She was on her 5th recount of how many tiles spanned from one wall to another when a figure flashed in her peripheral.

Remus had passed by and judging the complete silence, assumed Y/N was sitting an exam. He waved cheerily, happy he had opted for practical examinations. Y/N rolled her eyes when she spotted him. Remus turned back around and passed the classroom door again.

“STOP.” Y/N mouth silently, gesturing to her students.

A few of them looked up and laughed, leading to a few more turning their heads.

“Enough.” Y/N shook her head, waving her wand and the door slammed shut, Remus disappearing from their sights.

“Professor Lupin’s just gloating that all his finals are over.” Y/N hushed the group. “Now get on, I’m not giving you extra time.”

She winked at the end, and the students returned to their scrolls, the atmosphere in the classroom noticeably lighter.

Light filled the room as Y/N clicked the lamp open. She turned to her side to find Remus wide awake as well.

“Can’t sleep?” She muttered.

“Nope.”

Y/N huffed, stacking her pillows and coming up to a seated position.

“It’s the full moon soon. How are you feeling?”

“The usual.” Remus yawned, turning on his side. He examined the grey circles under Y/N’s eyes through his wrinkle-decorated own. “I just feel a bit weird.”

“Hm.” Y/N responded. “Me too.”

“We’re probably just tired from so many back to back exams and all the grading.”

“Yeah. And my heart is kind of hurting. I just can’t really believe this year is ending. This has been the best job I’ve ever had in my whole life.”

Remus slid his hand under the covers to find hers.

“All good things must come to an end, my love.”

Y/N smiled sadly.

“What are the odds Flitwick needs another year off, eh?”

Remus chuckled.

Y/N clicked the lamp off and the two laid back in once again total darkness. Outside their window, roamed the creatures of the night. Centaurs, unicorns trudging across the Forbidden Forest, Dementors floating outside the Castle perimeter, and strolling stealthily in the Hogsmeade village; a ginger cat and its newfound friend, a big shaggy black dog.

Remus strolled along on his daily walk of the Castle grounds. Y/N had opted to stay in bed well into the afternoon that day, feeling more tired than usual.

He found a tree stump near Hagrid’s Hut and installed himself comfortably under it. He pulled a book from the pocket of his robes and opened it to the page he had last marked. About three quarters of an hour passed when he noticed Harry, Hermione and Ron come down and go into Hagrid’s. He returned to his book.

A small while later, he noticed more figures make their way to that direction. One sported a bowler hat, which he recognized as the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, and two wizards followed him. One of them had a shiny axe attached to his belt, which glistened when it caught the sun.

Comprehension dawned upon Remus. He had heard of Hagrid’s Hippogriff case with Malfoy and the Ministry, and Y/N had told him in passing of the Harry and his friends’ interest in the outcome.

They emerged from the hut and crossed paths with the men. Remus closed his book. Those three better not involve themselves any further with the case, he thought. He didn’t want them to be exposed to the execution.

"THE DARK LORD LIES ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, ABANDONED BY HIS FOLLOWERS. HIS SERVANT HAS BEEN CHAINED THESE TWELVE YEARS. TONIGHT, BEFORE

MIDNIGHT... THE SERVANT WILL BREAK FREE AND SET OUT TO REJOIN HIS MASTER. THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN WITH HIS SERVANTS AID, GREATER AND

MORE TERRIBLE THAN EVER HE WAS. TONIGHT... BEFORE MIDNIGHT... THE SERVANT... WILL SET OU... TO REJOIN... HIS MASTER....

Harry dropped the crystal ball he was supposed to return to Professor Trelawney and ran.

Thus began a very fateful night.

Remus walked through the Castle that evening and felt a weird shift in the air. Exams were over sure, but there was a certain trio that seemed the opposite of celebratory. Making his way down to the Great Hall, he took a seat next to Professor Sprout.

“Evening, Lupin.” She said happily.

“Good evening, Professor.” He responded kindly.

“Y/N coming soon?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m not sure, she’s taking a nap now. She’s been awfully tired this past week.”

“That’s okay, classic end-of-year burnout” she replied, then proceeded to ask him how if he had finished all his grading.

Remus conversed with her a bit distractedly as he watched over the Gryffindor table, spotting Harry, Ron and Hermione. They were visibly pre-occupied and were huddled away from the other students, discussing seriously.

“Have you heard from Hagrid? Poor thing, his Hippogriff’s been sentenced to death today. It’s going to happen tonight, any minute now actually I think.”

Remus turned to face her. “Really? That’s horrible…”

Professor Sprout pursed her lips in agreement before taking another bite of chicken.

Remus looked over at the trio again. They were standing up hastily, walking out of the Hall with quick little steps. He frowned. What were they up to?

He took the time to finish his dinner calmly and bid the fellow staff goodbye. Making his way back into his office, he pulled out his things quietly as the bedroom door was still shut; Y/N was probably still asleep.

He took a seat at his desk and pulled out what looked like an old used piece of parchment.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The map opened and unfolded as traces of ink bled upon its pages, forming its intricate content. He scanned it quickly, before turning his attention to Hagrid’s Hut. Hagrid’s dot was there, along with Dumbledore’s and other names he assumed were Ministry officials.

Running along the path to his Hut, he stopped at the two dots moving right under the Whomping Willow. It was Harry and Hermione. Where was Ron? What were they doing by that tree?

A thought popped in his head and his stomach sank. He moved up the map, praying to God that his far-fetched conjecture wouldn’t be true. Landing on Hogsmeade Village, he looked for the Shrieking Shack. The weight in his stomach sank even further. Ron’s dot was there, accompanied by none other than… Sirius Black.

His hands shook. He had to go help him. But as he watched the dots move, a third one came into view.

It was labelled “Peter Pettigrew”.

At that second, the blood had left Remus’ face. His hands grew cold. He shook the paper. He rapped his wand at it. He blinked and blinked again. The dot was still there, labelled with that name as clear as day.

In that very moment, a 13 year-old puzzle just came together with this one final piece. The web wove itself to completion. He understood… Stuffing his wand in his pocket, he jumped out of his chair and sped out the door.

In the Shrieking Shack, blood pressures were high.

Ron lay in the corner, with his weight off his broken leg, clutching his rat Scabbers. Hermione stood in the corner, quiet and pale.

Harry was fuming, frozen with his wand lifted and pointed to a ghastly, ghost-like Sirius Black.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't.... You don't understand...."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum... trying to stop Voldemort killing me... and you did that... you did it...."

Crookshanks jumped in between the two and sat itself at Black’s feet, looking back at Harry with deep yellow eyes.

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

And then came a new sound -

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE -- SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!"

Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.

Y/N woke up to a dark room. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Her entire face felt scorching hot and her mouth was dry like she hadn’t drank in days. She rolled over in the bed. She had crawled under her blankets in the evening before dinner for a quick nap, but judging by the chill and dark air outside, she must have slept into early night.

She felt a tightness in her pelvic area, like cramps. She placed a hand on her abdomen.

Pulling herself out of bed lazily, she head to the bathroom. Her period was supposed to start a few days ago, so this must’ve been it. However, as she sat down on the toilet, there was nothing.

Suddenly, a realization jolted her mind awake.

She ran back to the bedroom, rummaging through her drawer for a pregnancy test. She went back to the bathroom and waited for the result.

Positive.

She put down the test swiftly, looking away as she felt her heartbeat quicken. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Slowly, she picked up the stick and read the result once more.

Holy shit.

She looked around her and it occurred to her that Remus was nowhere to be found. She checked the clock. It was well past 10pm.

Where the hell was he?

"Where is he, Sirius?"

Remus spoke in a tense voice, cutting through the weighted silence that took over the Shrieking Shack.

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron.

Mystified, Harry glanced around at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "... why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" -- Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "-- unless he was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on --?"

But Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence, as what followed knocked the wind from his throat.

Remus lowered his wand. He walked to Sirius’ side, seized his hand confidently and pulled him to his feet. He gazed deeply into his eyes for a second, before the two men pulled each other into a deep embrace.

“I don’t believe it—“ Remus gasped, voice muffled.

“God, it’s been so long,” Sirius muttered back, “my friend.”

"DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You -- you --"

"Hermione —"

“— you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you —"

"Hermione, listen to me, please'" Lupin shouted. "I can explain —"

Harry could feel himself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

"I trusted you," he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering, out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain...."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too -- he's a werewolf!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

Where the hell was he?

Y/N’s head was spinning as too much was happening at the same time. She glanced around hurriedly for signs of Remus, then remembered she was clutching the positive pregnancy test and looked back at the positive result, then saw the Marauder’s Map was splayed across the desk, still open.

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She stuffed the test in her pocket then headed towards his desk. She’d be able to find where Remus was on the map, then would go back to sleep.

It took a while for her eyes to scan the entire Castle for his name, to no avail. Where the hell was he? Surely he was not outside… It then dawned on her that tonight was the full moon.

Shit.

She looked over to the Shrieking Shack and nothing could have prepared her to see what she saw. Not one, but six dots. One was Remus, but he was accompanied by Harry, Ron and Hermione, as well as…

Y/N felt her heart freeze. Sirius Black? And… Peter… Pettigrew?

None of this felt possible. It couldn’t be. Grabbing her wand, she rushed out the office.

With this new information, the full moon had completely been replaced in her mind. Unfortunately, the only one who did seem to still remember was a certain Potions professor, on his way up to their office right now, where the map laid wide open.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," Remus said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead.” An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."

"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant.... Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not," Hermione whispered. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."

“The staff? Does Professor Y/L/N know?” Ron gasped.

Sirius let out a howl of genuine laughter. “Professor Y/L/N!” He cackled.

Remus scratched the back of his head, suddenly slightly bashful. “Professor Y/L/N and I… have been married for over 10 years.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione’s jaws dropped.

Silence fell over the room once again, as Remus stood there not knowing what to say next and Sirius standing by his side with his arms crossed, a slight smirk on his face.

“Well, we knew that!” Hermione exclaimed, finally. “That was more obvious than the werewolf thing! The whole school talks about it—“

She was interrupted as a new set of footsteps echoed from the staircase. The kids froze as Remus and Sirius turned to face the door, wands at the ready.

In burst Y/N, as if right on cue in a play. She was flushed and was panting, it appeared she had ran the whole way there.

“Remus!” She cried out upon seeing him. “YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO—“ She took a step forward until she spotted his company, and slowly took the step back. “What…” She murmured shakily, “is happening here?”

“Professor Y/L/N.” Hermione gasped softly.

Her eyes hovered over Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were in shock to see their Charms Professor, before landing upon Sirius. Something unrecognizable flashed across her gaze. She couldn’t believe what, or whom, she was seeing. She had thought the map made a mistake.

Y/N didn’t hear her. “Siri…?” she whispered, fixated on the man in front of her.

That’s when Harry lost it.

“‘SIRI?’ I TRUSTED YOU TOO! SO THIS WHOLE TIME -BOTH- OF YOU HAVE BEEN HELPING HIM?”

Y/N jumped from the sudden outburst and Remus came by her side to put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Remus, you better explain and you better explain quick.” She said tensely.

“We have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He separated Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's wands and threw each back to its owner; Harry caught his, stunned.

“There”, said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —“

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote —?"

Y/N caught Harry’s eye and gave him a confirming nod.

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?”

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry--"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it...," said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black.... I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you.”

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared.

"What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard.”

"An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

"You're both mental.”

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me... not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that -- they need to understand -- we've got to explain --"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off.

Y/N joined and stepped in front of Sirius. “Sirius, please!” She put both hands on his shoulders, causing him to flinch. Her voice was shaking. “They deserve to know the full picture.”

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, ad bleeding hands. “Fine. But make it quick. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for.”

"You're nutters, all three of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

“Ron.” Y/N said sternly. “Sit down. I’m not joking, you’re going to listen.”

Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.

"But Professor Lupin... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew... it just can't be true, you know it can't..."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with grindylows.

"Because... because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework -- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things... and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

Lupin and Y/N laughed.

"Light again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

Y/N cleared her throat.

“Sorry, four Animagi. Although we didn’t really know back then about you, my love.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Still, wanted to make sure you got the number right.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wider if it was even possible. “Professor Y/L/N, you’re an Animagus too?!”

Y/N nodded and gestured to Remus to proceed.

"All right... but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, I only know how it began..."

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted.... The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "That's where all of this starts -- with my becoming a werewolf, None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitter... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione, said, "Shh!" She was watching Lupin very intently.

"I as a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform.... I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me. “

Hermione noticed a hint of sadness as she watched Y/N listen to her husband’s story.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school...." Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came

to Hogwarts. This house" -- Lupin looked miserably around the room, -- "the tunnel that leads to it -- they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

"My transformations in those days were -- were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor.... Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...."

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black... Peter Pettigrew... and, of course, your father, Harry -- James Potter."

Y/N sniffed.

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her... I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth...."

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times

of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong -- one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed... Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the

Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

Y/N bit her lip as she dared to watch her old friend. She wanted to go touch him, comfort him, after so long… but she remained frozen on the spot as Remus continued.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there... well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did.... And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal --?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

"That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless -- carried away with our own cleverness."

I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course... he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed..."

Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me... and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

“Don’t put it all on yourself,” Y/N said grimly. “The blame’s to share. We both decided to not go to Dumbledore.”

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore A year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly

killed him, a trick which involved me —" Black made a derisive noise. Y/N shushed him.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t go defending him now—“ Sirius chuckled.

“I’m not! I’m just— Rem, continue the story.” She said, crossing her arms defensively.

The two exchanged looks between each other, a bit of playfulness coming from Sirius’ end whereas Y/N still looked conflicted about being in his presence.

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we -- er -- didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field... anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be -- er -- amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it -- if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf -- but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life... Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was...."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing, directly at Lupin.

Hermione screamed. Black leapt to his feet. Harry felt as though he'd received a huge electric shock.

Y/N gasped and clutched her stomach. Black slowly grabbed her shoulders and placed himself in front of her protectively.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you...."

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did... lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus --" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout — and you too Y/L/N. Here you are helping him out, a real criminal couple you two are…”

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything -- I can explain -- Sirius is not here to kill Harry --"

"Three more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. “Though I do feel bad for you, Y/L/N, you never should have gotten involved… in the first place…I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this.... He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf —"

“Don’t - you - fucking - dare—“ Y/N said through gritted teeth, wanting to lunge forward to strike Snape, but Sirius and Remus caught her arms, holding her back.

“How sweet.” Snape said sardonically.

"You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. Y/N screamed, throwing herself down to check on him. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Harry stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do or whom to believe. He glanced around at Ron and Hermione. Ron looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermione, however, took an uncertain step toward Snape and said, in a very breathless voice, "Professor Snape -- it it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w -- would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat. "You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

Y/N whipped her head around, hearing the way Snape was beginning to speak to Hermione.

"But if -- if there was a mistake --"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent.

“ENOUGH!” Y/N jumped up, pulling her wand out and pointing it straight at Snape. “Hermione, get back.”

“Step aside, Y/L/N. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He grunted.

“I said, get back, all three of you.” Y/N snapped, Harry and Hermione hurrying and backing up to where Ron laid.

“Severus, I’m serious, you need to hear them out.” Y/N said. Her voice was steely. She moved out from behind Sirius and inched her way closer to Snape, softly but steadily like a cat.

Snape ignored her. Remus struggled against his binds, his eyes not leaving Y/N. But deep down, he knew he didn’t have to worry. He had seen her fight during the first Wizarding War, and he knew how much more powerful of a witch she had grown into. Snape unfortunately, did not, as he returned his attention to Sirius.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you...."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" -- he jerked his head at Ron -- "I'll come quietly...."

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black... pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay... I --"

What little color there was in Blacks face left it.

"You -you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat -- look at the rat --"

But there was a mad glint in Snape's eyes that had never been seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too —"

“Severus.” Y/N warned, wand still at the ready.

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.

“Harry!” Y/N cried.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin --"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape.

"Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOURE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN --"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too

arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black -- now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

“Okay, I said ENOUGH!” Y/N raised her voice.

With a wave of her wand, the floor tiles under Harry’s feet rolled upwards in a wave, and sent Harry tumbling back to the back of the room where Ron and Hermione were.

“Snape, I told you to listen,” She said, advancing on him with her wand. “I told you, I don’t want to have to do this. But you have clearly lost your mind.”

Snape turned to face her. His dark eyes darkened even more. “And I told you, to get out of my way.a What are you possibly saying, Professor Y/L/N, you really think I’m going to duel you?”

Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Why, you scared you gonna lose?” She said in a volume just above a whisper.

Snape jerked his wand and a spell flew at her, she whipped her own wand and deflected it. It bounced to the wall and knocked an old painting down.

With her empty hand, Y/N reached out to the trio and conjured a sort of bubble around Ron, Harry and Hermione. It was a protection spell.

Remus screamed in muffled yells as his mouth was gagged, and Sirius tried to free him but to no avail, there was no untying magical ties without a wand.

Y/N’s chest was heaving as she felt her heartbeat quicken.

A rapidfire of spells followed, bouncing between the two like fireworks. Y/N waved her wand, deflecting those Snape sent at her, conjuring out some of her own in the milliseconds in between.

Snakes shot out of Snape’s wand, flying toward Y/N. She waved her wand and they turned into pink satin ribbons, falling through the air. She flicked her wand one, two, three different motions and jets of orange, red and purple shot toward him. He deflected two of them and managed to physically dodge the third. Snape rose his hands and a ring of fire encircled Y/N.

Remus let out another muffled yell, struggling terribly against his restraints.

“Don’t-“ Y/N muttered through gritted teeth as she began to make effortful circles with both her wand and her non-dominant hand. The others watched in terror. “Piss - me - OFF—“

The molecules of water vapor surrounding her had liquefied and splashed down onto the floor to put out the flames. “The shack’s made out of fucking wood, Snape, you want us all to DIE?”

She raised her wand high above her head, the water getting picked off the floor and she pushed the wave into him. It slammed his body into the wall behind him and with another wave of her wand, the water froze; trapping him there, suspended.

Remus watched from the ground in awe. He had forgotten how powerful Y/N had become and it was magnificent to witness.

Snape’s head had knocked back and it drooped down, hanging from his neck. He had been knocked unconscious.

Sirius found Remus’ wand and untied him.

Y/N took a deep breath and lowered her wand. She waved her hand, and the protective barrier in front of the trio disappeared. Remus jumped to his feet and rushed to her, capturing her in a soulful hug.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He said, taking her face in his two hands, searching and scanning for signs of distress.

“I’m good, I swear.” She said, steadying her breath.

After what seemed like forever, finally Remus let her go. They immediately turned back around to heightened squeaking noises, coming from a very distressed Scabbers, still stuck in Ron’s tight clutch.

“Professor Y/L/N…” Hermione began.

“That was amazing.” Ron breathed.

“How you used the Freezing charm to- to- Oh God, Professor Snape.” Hermione gasped once she saw what state he was in.

“This still doesn’t mean I believe you.” Harry said firmly.

Y/N, Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

“Then it’s time we gave you proof.” Remus said, advancing.

“Ron, give us the rat.”

#charmed #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #prisoner of azkaban #professor lupin x reader

180 notes · View notes

crystallizedtwilight · 5 months ago

Note

I really like how you draw what you love in the moment. I am making a shift in my drawing interests as well, but I'm starting to feel guilty. My friends and followers know me as the (insert fandom) artist. Deep down I know what I am feeling is silly. Draw what you love! Who cares! I know that is the truth. So my question to you is, what do you do when those thoughts come to your head (if it does)?

What a thoughtful question! Below the cut:

Thank you! I've been on tumblr for 10 years and I have come to accept that I will always receive certain messages when I begin drawing a new interest:

"Guess you don't draw X anymore" / "Why did you stop drawing X?" / "Are you ever going to draw X again?" / "I want more X" / "When can we expect more X?" / "We're never going to see X again, are we?"

Though I've emphasized many times that this is my blog for all of my art and all my fandoms, every time I switch interests I am swamped with messages like this 3-4 months afterwards. It's an inevitability, because new folks may have missed that this is a "my current interest" blog, and old folks may not like the new content you're interested in.

At first it really bothered me, because I'd draw like 150 pieces of art for a fandom for 6 months straight, need a break, and the next day people will be like "guess you don't care anymore" like all the art I did wasn't enough.

The reality is: I like the idea of managing one blog for all of my artwork. I like how low-stress it is to have one, singular place I can still use a playground for my interests. I think it's a concept some people have forgotten is an option. Dare we call it a portfolio.

I am aware that the more "modern" way to conduct things, if you want to build an audience, is to have several blogs, each dedicated to one of your interests. But the very thought of managing 100 blogs every time I got a new interest makes my skin crawl and I know it would instantly suck the fun out of it for me.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to "build an audience", I just want to have a fun space for me. There are already so many social media sites out there besides tumblr, and if you're an artist that uploads to more than one, multiplying those by each of your fandoms? Sounds like more work than I want to do.

I can't remember the name of the artist, but I recall a few years ago one of the artists for the show Korra was bombarded with these sorts of messages when they started posting art that wasn't Avatar-related. And they said something to the effect of "I gave 2 years of my life to this show. Let me explore something new." And I'll never forget that. I feel the same way.

The theme of this blog is "my art". That's it. My interests change, sometimes circle back, and change again. And that's ok—that's how artists keep art fun for themselves. Every artist deserves a playground where they can share and connect with other people who are also just as excited about their newest thing. That's the joy of it.

Keeping yourself in a box just because that's what people want or expect you to do is the death of creativity. I am at peace with people unfollowing if our interests don't align anymore. This was never a blog for catering to anyone but myself, and that is ok.

So those messages don't bother me anymore. I know they're coming. I know they will always be there. And, every time, I will find new folks who do want to share in my new interest. I think in many ways I like starting over again. It feels refreshing.

But more than that, I know the importance of keep a space for myself online where I can be as creative and fun and silly as I like, chasing after the latest thing that is making me smile.

80 notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 4 months ago

Note

could you write something for simon with an asexual partner please :)

luv ya have a nice day<3

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Asexual!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Indirect Mentions of Simon's SA

A/N: I hope your day is amazing, lovely anon! Haven't written for Si in AGES!

Unedited

It's a whole conversation. You have to really take time to sit him down and talk about it and what it means/how it will play a part in the relationship. The discussion is like two hours long. He truly just doesn't understand. Not in a 'wtf are you on, humans are made to want to have sex' way, but in a 'I'm literally an old man and I've been too busy trying to not die in foreign territories' way. (Let's be real, this man does not know any LGBTQ identities besides gay and lesbian and has no idea the f slur refers to anything other than a smoke).

He honestly thought you were telling him you were 'a sexual' when you said it to him. He just blinked at you slowly in confusion because he had genuinely no idea if this was your way of demanding sexual intimacy or like some weird foreplay. Like are you demanding him to treat you like an animal in heat or is this some weird test? And his way of asking for clarification?: "...like Johnny?" (A man who has no-filtered talked about wanting to pound into the first person he got his hands on at the nearby bar over lunch at your dining table).

Please be patient as you're explaining it to him, I beg you. He's repeatedly asking the same questions over and over again and repeating everything you say back because he's actually trying to understand and he doesn't want to mess anything up. Every other sentence he's nodding his head slowly and then just going, "so...basically-?" insert thing you just said but reworded. Please just explain it to him like he's a five year old, he really does feel like one right now.

Totally respects your choice and feelings around sex. He doesn't really go jumping for joy or is in the constant need for a release with everything he experienced in the past, so sex isn't a deal breaker for him in a relationship. You want zero sex because you just don't feel the need for it or simply don't like it? That's a-okay with him, he wasn't having sex before he met you and he doesn't see a reason why that needs to change now that you're together. You're okay with having sex but only under certain conditions and with a few boundaries in place? Can you wait just a moment while he goes to get something to write it all down on so he can make sure he doesn't accidentally overlook something in the future? You wouldn't mind him adding a few boundaries too, right? He doesn't object to anything you say, just asks for clarification from time to time and writes down notes on the side.

He's your number one defender when friends or family or nosy strangers ask about the intimacy aspects of your relationship. Shuts them up real fast when they start to show a hint of judgement towards the choices the two of you made or tries to insinuate you're 'depriving him' of something. Gives them the nastiest glare and bluntly asks them why they care so much about people's sex lives or asks them really uncomfortable questions about their sex life with a straight face until they awkwardly excuse themselves.

This man just loves you for you and reminds you everyday that you're his luvie and he wouldn't have it any other way.

146 notes · View notes

dudadragneel · 2 months ago

Text

Hello, guys! It's me!

Sorry for going MIA again, there's just a lot going on 😅

But hey, another fic for you!

This one was a request from @fairyniceyeah !

I'm sorry this took AGES to be ready and posted....(Insert here Sponge Bob square pants "2000 years later")

also I'm sorry if this request took a certain turn...

STP - Standard Temperature and Pressure

BEHIND THE BEAT

Before becoming an idol, Minho was a professional dancer and a backup dancer for BTS, so dancing was a serious topic for him.

He'd always participate in the creation process of their choreographies and it always had to be perfect. Of course they had fun, but when it was time to get serious, they got really serious.

Whenever they had to spend so much time inside that practice room, dancing for hours on end, they remembered their trainee days.

And those days weren't one bit easy.

They had a choreographer but the one who'd mostly work on the choreographies, work with the boys and guide them through it, was Minho.

And when he entered dance practice mode, he could be as scary as pre-debut Chan. So much so that even Chan would get a little scared sometimes.

It was honestly impressive how attentive to details and mistakes Minho was.

They always wondered "how can a single pair of eyes keep track of movements from seven different people?"

Well, that's just how good of a dancer he was.

It was a tiring job and stressful as well, after all he had to be able to deal with seven different dancing styles and personalities.

Felix and Hyunjin were part of Danceracha so he didn't really worry about those two and they did their best to help Minho to the best of their habilities.

But at the end of the day, if anything went wrong or if things weren't going as smooth as everyone wished, he'd take all the blame to himself.

He had pride on what he did.

If the members weren't getting the moves right, wasn't him a bad teacher?

That's exactly how his mind worked, despite everyone trying to tell him he was doing a perfect job.

This time they were preparing for a really big comeback that would be followed by a tour, which meant: no time to rest, no openings for mistakes.

The boys gathered at JYPE's famous cafeteria to have lunch and discuss some of the things they had to work on.

Chan was explaining how they'd record the tracks, how much time he'd need to work with the members on their parts etc.

On the other side, Minho was also doing the same, planning out how many hours they'd have to practice in a day and such.

They knew it all too well how hectic it got when a comeback was around the corner, and yet, they couldn't keep themselves from already feeling utterly tired. Even if they hadn't done much yet.

Sometimes they'd wonder how in heavens they decided on that career and how it would be to just live a normal life.

But those thoughts would always be replaced with some sort of relief, after all they'd also wonder how it would've been if they never met each other. And that thought alone would make any of them tear up. That was just how much they meant to each other.

After they were done with their lunch, they rested for a little while and went straight to dance practice.

Minho's mind was swimming with ideas for the choreographies and he needed to practice them, he needed to see how the movements inside his mind would be shown in real life.

So the dance practices would usually went like this:

Minho would make the boys stretch long enough so they didn't have any cramps or injured themselves.

And then he'd stand in front of the mirror practicing the moves alone for a moment and sharpening them before gathering the others to teach them.

While he did that, the practice room was utter chaos, the boys were running around or lying down or laughing, just simply being themselves.

And while Minho sometimes wanted to punch them, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like that chaos.

- Ok guys! Come on!

After a while, Minho entered his dance practice mode and gathered everyone to start teaching the dance moves.

Most of the time, the group wouldn't make many mistakes, specially Danceracha and more specifically Minho.

Well, sometimes Felix would get some moves wrong or just not do them as sharp as the others but it was due to his back problem. Everyone always reassured him it wasn't his fault but still he was harsh on himself.

And if Felix punished himself like that, Minho did that to himself a 100 times worse. After all, he was a dancer who became an idol, he was a professional dancer before all this, so in his mind, he couldn't make any mistakes.

Yet, while working on the dances for the impending comeback and tour, the universe just seemed to have some sort of conspiracy against him.

Every so often, he'd miss a step, dance off beat, or even forget a little part of the choreography which was really unusual for him.

The boys were already getting worried, they weren't used to seeing him that much out of control of his own movements.

And he was starting to get stressed, really stressed.

Whereas Chan's anger would make him raise his voice a bit and use a harsher tone, Minho's was a more silent one.

Sometimes he wouldn't even mutter a single word.

There would be just this aura surrounding him and whenever one of the boys would dare approach him, he'd just look them dead in the eye.

Like a tiger looking at its prey.

And that was warning enough for the others to back off. In these type of situations, Chan was the only one who could break through Minho's walls and attempt to understand his feelings and calm him down.

The dance practice continued for another hour and so did Minho's mistakes.

"Fuck!"

"Why is nothing going right today?"

He thought to himself.

Not once, not even once he managed to dance the entire routine without making a few, as he'd say, dumb mistakes.

Their choreographer didn't know what was going on. Hell, not even himself was understanding what was happening to him.

Minho was getting progressively stressed and angry. He was acting the same way he acted when he was mad at his stage outfits.

Chan and the boys knew exactly where this was going.

The choreographer called for a quick break so that everyone could catch their breath and Chan took this opportunity to try and talk to Minho, and hopefully understand what was going on.

Minho sat down on the couch, throwing his beanie and cursing.

Oh, he was beyond angry. He was fuming.

Chan sat beside him in silence. Analyzing the situation, the leader understood that trying to get him to say something might worsen the situation.

If Minho needed to say something, he would, if not, Chan wouldn't push him into doing so.

- Damn it! Sorry, hyung.

He immediately apologized for cursing in front of his leader.

And Chan saw that as an opportunity to speak to him, careful not to get him more stressed.

- Is everything okay?

Chan asked with such a gentle tone that Minho almost broke down in sobs.

- Yeah, I'm fine.

He answered, a bit colder than he wanted, but he wasnt in control of his body, let alone his mind.

- Okay.

For a moment Minho thought he hurt Chan's feelings since the leader gave a short answer. He'd even risk saying it was just as cold as his.

But maybe it was just his mind, getting annoyed by the littlest thing.

The fact is, deep down inside, he wished Chan would've insist on asking because part of him wanted to tell someone how he was feeling, if he managed to understand what exactly was it.

The other part, the proud one, didn't want to admit that he wasn't okay. It seemed like this part wanted to show the others and himself, that he could handle things on his own, just like Chan.

And he did manage to deal with things on his own a lot of times but he had already asked for help on a few occasions.

Why didn't he want to seek help now?

He didn't know.

His thoughts were starting to eat him from the inside.

And then, the break was over.

In STP, Minho would be happy to resume dancing. But this time, he was stuck between wanting to dance and make up for his mistakes or not dance at all afraid of keep on making mistakes.

Honestly? It had been some time since the last time his mind took over like this.

And he wasn't liking it, not one bit.

To add to his stress and frustration, his whole body was starting to ache and a weird feeling had settled in his stomach a while ago. But he was so frustrated that he didn't even notice.

Great. Now he had to dance afraid of making more mistakes and conscious of the annoying feeling in his stomach.

And just like the beginning of practice, the mistakes just kept coming.

He was so out of tune with his own dancing that he wasn't even able to analyze the other members.

How could he, when he himself wasn't getting the steps right?

He'd just be a hypocrite.

The members however, were getting really worried seeing Minho like that.

Each time they made a mistake, they looked at Minho, waiting for a correction or something but nothing.

And now Minho was feeling even worse than before.

He felt like his body was about to crumble, his vision was kinda blurry and his mind, oh his mind. It was corrupting him from the inside.

At the same time he couldn't exactly see the members properly, it seemed like he could sense everything inside the room.

And he felt like everyone's gaze were locked on him, piercing through his body, as if criticizing him from head to toe.

Members, choreographers, staff, everyone.

And in fact, they were, but not the way he imagined.

They were looking at him concerned, trying to understand what was happening to him.

Practice went on and so did the mistakes. At some point the choreographer questioned him what was happening but he couldn't really answer so he just muttered an excuse.

Although they had a good relationship with their staff, Chan would get angry at them if he thought they were pushing the members into talking or admitting something or just making them uncomfortable.

And Chan felt something building inside him.

The choreographer didn't use a harsh tone nor was he reprimanding Minho, but Chan since sensing something was wrong with his dongsaeng, he became overprotective.

Changbin noticed Chan starting to get restless and discreetly talked to him, whispering so no one would hear him.

- Hyung.

The younger rapper said, touching Chan's shoulder and bringing him back to reality.

- I know what you're thinking. We noticed Minho-hyung is acting strange. But the choreographer is talking to him normally. Please don't get worked up.

- I know, I know.

Chan sighed and then took deep breaths to calm himself down before he talked back to the choreographer, who was not at fault, and created a bad situation.

And quiet honestly, he also wasn't at fault. He was just caring and protecting Minho, after all he was his dongsaeng and he was supposed to be a leader.

When the choreographer seemed satisfied with Minho's explanation, if there really was one, he resumed practice one more time.

By now it was agonizing to keep dancing. Not only was he not getting the steps right at all, he was also slowing down the others, making practice last way longer.

Minho was feeling so utterly frustrated at himself that the last thin line of focus he had, was completely cut off.

His movements became sluggish, he felt his body tingling and his vision was getting more blurry than before.

He just wanted that practice to end. No, the whole day. And start anew the next day.

It was hurting the boys, specially Chan, to see Minho like that. Because he couldn't get through to him earlier and he knew his dongsaeng didn't like to admit to feeling unwell. But this was getting out of hand.

It felt like Minho had been replaced by someone else.

He kept on dancing, like he was on autopilot, still trying to get the steps right.

Then the choreographer called another break.

And that was when everything crumbled.

The others sat down on the ground, some lay down, feeling tired from the last 3 hours of dancing.

Chan, though, kept his gaze focused on Minho.

The younger man stumbled to the side of the room, bracing himself against the wall.

He would dare say he felt like he was about to die.

When the adrenaline started to subside, he became hyper aware of everything he was feeling, both physically and mentally.

He was overcome with guilt of not getting things right and making the others put on an extra amount of unnecessary effort.

His mind was not giving him one moment of peace and neither was his body.

He couldn't breathe properly, he tried to but it felt like there was no oxygen going inside his lungs, as if his chest was being squeezed. His back was heaving up and down, getting faster each passing second.

His whole body felt like jelly and about to shut down, he felt like all his muscles were close to relaxing all at once.

The rapid breathing made him feel incredibly dizzy, his vision was blurring even more than before and he felt unsteady on his feet, thank god for that wall.

And to top it off, his stomach was rebelling against him. Every single emotion he was feeling, was being reflected in his stomach.

It churned and his lunch was sloshing around like a washing machine, he could already taste the bile in his mouth.

He kept his back turned to the others, desperately trying to get a hold of his own body. But it wasn't working.

His breathing was not going back to normal and it made him feel like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The nausea was overwhelming him and he tried to fight it back, swallowing convulsively and clenching his fists for dear life. He didn't dare move a muscle and he was actually surprised how he hadn't collapsed yet.

Seeing how his state deteriorated quickly when they took this las break, the members were extremely concerned about him. But at the same time they didn't know if trying to get close to him would be a wise idea.

Almost all of them looked at Chan, desperate for a signal from the leader but before he could raise a hand and nod them a "no", one of them was already missing: Hyunjin.

He and Minho bickered all the time but they loved each other and Hyunjin was just as worried as the others.

He got closer to Minho and placed a hand on his sweaty back making him flinch a little and quickly looking up at him and then dropping his head again, already running out of strength to hold his body.

The younger dancer felt his hyung's back heave up and down quickly and how his hands were clenched in such tight fists, he was worried Lee Know was gonna hurt himself.

Minho tried to focus on Hyunjin's hand on his back for dear life, everything was too overwhelming and he felt like he could faint at any minute. Hyunjin's presence was the only thing that was barely keeping him grounded.

- Hyung?

Hyunjin called out, tilting his head a bit so he could see Minho's face, getting no response.

But the older dancer was in such a state that he wasn't even listening Hyunjin's voice, actually, he wasn't even sure he processed it was Hyunjin who was by his side.

He was basically hyperventilating now and his lunch was threatening to make an appearance really soon.

Minho kept his head low, eyes focused on the ground, fists and jaw clenched, swallowing down the rising nausea. And in the midst of it, trying to get his breathing under control.

But it was no use, it was a battle he wasn't gonna win even if he tried.

Hyunjin moved his hand to his hyung's shoulder, squeezing it and trying to bring him back to earth. And he then positioned himself in front of Minho, lowering himself a bit so he could try to meet his gaze.

But that was the wrong move.

The moment Hyunjin appeared in front of Minho was also the moment he lost his battle against his stomach.

He felt liquid rushing up his chest and hitting the back of his throat faster than he could react.

And then he bent down a little further retching a thick stream of vomit that hit the ground with a sickening sound and unfortunately, got on Hyunjin's shoes.

The younger one was shocked at first but quickly recollected himself while the others rushed to them.

Hyunjin stepped back a bit, trying to stay away from the upcoming mess but kept a firm hand on his hyung's back.

Minho vomited another wave that left him breathless and dizzy.

He was about to lose all strength in his body when Chan and Changbin got by his side and grabbed him.

- Don't worry, Minho-ah, we've got you.

Chan reassured as both him and Changbin gently lowered him down.

- Can someone grab a towel? And some water?

Chan asked and then immediately turned his attention to Minho who was still breathing erratically and gagging unproductively.

- It's okay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay.

The leader cooed, rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down while also brushing the hair out of his face, only to reveal trails of tears on his cheeks.

Chan's heart sunk to the ground when he saw that, because it only meant that Minho was dealing with something that was bothering him so much to the point of crying.

And Minho crying was a rare sight.

Chan also knew that he never liked to show his weakness to the others, not even tears, so he didn't say anything.

One of the boys came back with a towel and put it in front of Minho to cover the mess on the floor and prevent it from getting bigger.

He kept on gagging unproductively and it was clear that it was hurting him.

-Hey, it's okay.

Chan then noticed that Minho was holding it in, he knew that throwing up in front of everyone, members and choreographer and, well, on Hyunjin's shoes had left him mortified.

Even if the mess had already been done, he'd rather hold everything in than continue to display how out of control he was.

And Chan knew that.

- Kids, Hyung-nim.

Chan said with a authoritative tone, though very gentle at that.

And the others didn't need any other word to understand what he meant and quickly left the room. Too many people and too much attention would only worsen Minho's condition.

- There we go, Minho-ah. It's just you and me here.

Minho was still fighting against the nausea, even though it was just the two of them inside the room.

Wasn't he being humiliated enough?

He grabbed the fabric of his pants, gripping it with all his force, trying to contain the nausea by swallowing convulsively and taking deep breaths.

- It's okay, Minho-ah. No one is watching you, I'm the only one here, okay? Throw up if you need to, don't hold it in, it'll only make you feel worse.

Chan reassured, running his hand up and down Minho's back, his touch so gentle it was making him start crying again, though silently.

He slowly allowed himself to start relaxing and by doing that, his stomach immediately responded by contracting.

Minho lurched forward, more vomit escaping his lips and soiling the towel the boys had placed on the ground.

- That's it. You're doing good, just let it all out.

Chan said with a gentle voice while rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down and then in circles, feeling how it heaved up and down with each retch.

Another wave came out, even stronger, coming out of his nose as well and hurting his throat in the process.

And feeling the texture of the food in his mouth as well as the tiny pieces in his nose didn't help, it only triggered another wave.

- Hyung....

Minho said with a weak and shaky voice after the bout was over.

- I know, I know. You'll be okay.

The smell of sick seemed to have impregnated in his nose after coming out of it.

He tried blowing it to see if he could get rid of what seemed to be rice and that caused a round of unproductive retches.

Eventually another wave of putrid vomit made its way out and this one left his body shaking from the effort.

And to add to his misery, he managed to choke on a piece of undigested food and started coughing.

- Don't worry, hyung will help you, okay?

Minho didn't even have strength to answer his leader, he just wanted that to be over with.

Chan changed his approach and started to rub Minho's chest, trying to provide comfort and help dislodge what got stuck in his throat.

The dancer kept coughing and gagging, but nothing was coming up and he knew there was more that needed to get out.

He clutched his stomach because it was hurting so much and it wasn't giving him a break.

- Minho-ah, do you think you still have to puke?

Minho nodded weakly.

- Okay, I'll try something but it might be uncomfortable, okay?

Chan moved his hand from Minho's chest to his abdomen, more precisely to the middle and started to massage it, applying a bit of pressure every time.

It seemed to be working because Minho was gagging again and soon it brought up another bout of sick that mixed with the rest in the already soiled towel.

And Chan returned his attention to rubbing his dongsaeng's back, trying to make the ordeal less excruciating.

Minho still puked a few times and it felt like his stomach was determined to turn itself out. Even in his dazed state he was wondering how there was still things in him for him to vomit.

And Chan was getting worried that Minho's stomach was trying to get rid of all the food he ate in the past few weeks.

After about 45 minutes since everything started, Minho was just dry heaving and still gagging a bit. It really looked like his stomach wanted to get rid of itself.

- That's it. You did great.

Chan murmured to him still rubbing his back in soothing circles and his chest as well.

Minho didn't know why but that felt heavenly and comforting, and if he was being really honest to himself, he didn't want Chan to stop it.

- Let's get you away from this mess, okay?

The leader carefully helped Minho to another area in the practice room and sat beside him.

- Hey, can I go and dispose of that towel? Or can I ask someone to come get it?

Minho nodded a weak no.

He didn't want to be alone and he definitely didn't want to be seen.

- That's okay. We'll deal with that later. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Do you wanna try some water?

- mhmm

That was the first sound of his voice Chan heard after that long ordeal.

- Here, rinse out your mouth.

Chan said helping Minho take a sip to just wash his mouth and get rid of the awful taste in his mouth.

- Hey, do you think you can drink a little bit? Just small sips.

Minho hesitated at first but then nodded but he was too out of it and feeling too weak to hold the bottle.

So Chan gently brought it to his lips, tilting it slightly helping him take small sips. And the cold water helped soothe his throat a little bit, even though his stomach wasn't exactly happy about it.

Chan then grabbed a bucket and set it beside Minho so he could rinse his mouth and well, be there just in case.

None of them wanted that room to get any dirtier and they were feeling pretty bad for the staff who'd clean it after.

Chan gently brushed Minho's hair behind his ear to reveal the trails of tears one more time. He also noticed that his face was flushed, most likely due to the embarrassment and his eyes and nose were red from the crying.

He tenderly wiped away a tear that was running down Minho's cheek with his thumb.

- Hey, Minho-ah....do you want to tell me what happened?

He asked with the most gentle tone known to mankind and that broke Minho once more. He started sobbing but he still didn't want to lift his head.

- It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it now. We'll stay here as long as you want, I won't go anywhere.

Chan said reassuring Minho and putting a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, as if proving his words.

He continued to rub Minho's back in soothing circles as the younger boy continued to cry and for some reason the tears just wouldn't stop falling.

Eventually he started to calm down and the sobs stopped, the only sound was now his sniffing.

Apart from that, the room was completely quiet and like Chan said, he was not gonna pressure Minho into talking, so he stayed silent.

- 'm sorry...

The silence was broken by Minho's weak voice, barely a whisper.

He had his head between his knees, looking at the ground with tears still dropping and creating a small puddle.

- Why are you apologizing, hm?

Chan asked softly, stroking his dongsaeng's hair and patiently waiting for his response.

- Because I messed up....and made you guys practice more than needed....

- There's nothing to apologize for, Minho-ah...

- I couldn't get anything right...no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate and-

He stopped to catch his breath as he felt his chest tightening, a sign that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

- Hey, hey, take it easy. Breathe. You don't need to rush, okay?

Chan reassured as he grabbed Minho's hand and he instinctively squeezed his in return, trying to ground himself.

- Take deep breaths, slowly.

Minho followed Chan's instructions and started to calm down and continued talking.

- Nothing was working and I couldn't even pay attention to you guys and we're so close to the comeback and the tour, this is not supposed to happen....

- Minho-ah, you don't need to put so much pressure on yourself. And this is coming from a person that does exactly the opposite so I don't think I have much say on the matter hahaha.

Chan joked, earning a weak laugh from the dancer.

- But seriously, don't be so hard on yourself. We all have our "off" days, it's completely normal.

- I know, hyung....but-

He was cut off by a sob and then his mind took control again. It flooded with thoughts of not being able to get the steps right even if he tried his best, missing steps during the actual performance, not being able to pour out his 110% on stage.

It was mortifying.

And before he could even notice, he was already having a panic attack. He was hyperventilating, he couldn't stop crying and those thoughts refused to go away.

- They won't stop coming! Hyung, make it stop...

Minho pleaded between sobs and gasps of air.

- Hey, hey, Minho-ah. I need you to breathe.

Chan said placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality.

- I- I can't--

- Yes, you can. Come on.

Chan was respecting Minho's space to the best of his habilities, but the situation was now escalating and he had to intervene.

He gently lifted Minho's head and turned it towards him, so his dongsaeng was now facing him.

And it took every ounce of strength in his body to keep his composure seeing him like that.

- Look at me. You're gonna breathe with me, okay?

Minho nodded weakly, although unsure if he'd actually be able to.

Chan guided the dancer's hand towards his chest so he could feel his breathing pattern, while holding his other hand.

- You can feel my breathing. It's slow and steady, right? I want you to try and do the same. I know you can do it.

Lee Know tried to but it was just so hard, it felt he was underwater, trying desperately to take in any air but failing. And his mind just kept on repeating the same thoughts over and over again, like a broken record.

He squeezed Chan's hand until his knuckles turned white, his nails almost digging into his hyung's hand, trying to push those thoughts away.

- Keep trying. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need. But I need you to keep trying, keep on focusing on my breathing.

It took some time, but eventually Minho started to regain control over his breathing. He focused on Chan's breathing as the leader instructed and slowly evened his.

His grip on Chan's hand started to loosen up.

- There we go. Feeling a bit more calm now?

Chan asked wiping away the tears from Minho's eyes and cheeks but never letting go of his hand on his chest.

- Yes...

Minho answered weakly, clearly exhausted and embarrassed about everything that happened.

- Do you think you can talk to me about those thoughts?

- I think so....

Although getting a positive answer it was followed by a silent pause, yet Chan didn't insist.

- I just kept thinking that I needed to do well, that I needed to get everything right and help everyone with their dance. And that we have an upcoming comeback and tour and the choreographies need to be completed by then....and nothing seemed to be working....it was like my body was being controlled by those thoughts and I couldn't shut them up. I didn't want to be a burden and I felt like everyone was judging me for making so many mistakes.

It shattered Chan's heart to hear those words coming from Minho.

- No one was judging you, Minho-ah. No one will ever judge you. We knew something was wrong, that's why we were looking at you, we were worried.

Chan reassured him, running a thumb on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

- I'm sorry...

Minho said with a trembling voice looking down but Chan wasn't having it. He gently lifted his face again.

- Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for feeling weak, for feeling stressed, for being human. You hear me?

The younger boy just nodded, not really having any words to say.

He felt exhausted.

- Come here.

Chan said gently pulling Minho closer to him and embracing him in a back hug.

Minho allowed himself to be completely embraced by Chan, resting his head on his hyung's arm and the older kept his breathing steady so Minho could match it.

And they stayed like that, for minutes, in complete silence, the room quiet apart from their breathing.

He was so exhausted from everything that happened that in a few minutes he fell asleep on Chan's embrace, the same safe and warm back hug he secretly loved.

43 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 1 year ago

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Four

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Almost-car accident? Talk of getting smushed by a car.

Notes: Finally, a little something-something! I’m trying to post on the weekends to have some sort of schedule, but I have zero impulse control… so here it is a day early!

Word Count: 2146

Series Masterlist

• January 25th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Jasper

Not only am I lucky enough to spend lunch with Y/n, but some godly force must be watching out for me in that today’s history assignment allowed me to team up with her and learn more about her.

Her energy is absolutely fascinating and it almost worries me that I’m internally compelled to want to spend even more time in her presence. Two days and I’m already a goner, Emmett is going to have a field day interrogating me tonight.

Which leads me to now, after completing our history assignment with only a few minutes to spare, I’m escorting her to her car in an effort to prolong this addiction to her attention.

“Where are you from?” I ask, curious to know anything about her.

“Texas. Well, Dallas more specifically.” She’s still watching the ground as we walk, nervousness pouring from her.

“Why Forks? You couldn’t of picked a more completely opposite environment.” I miss my home state, and if it weren’t for my adversion to the sun - I would return.

“My parents divorced.” She continues before I could apologize for the intrusive question, “Happily divorced and I protested the whole ‘stay together until she graduates’ bullshit.” Fingers gesturing around the air quotations.

She trails off after that, circling back to our history assignment that no doubt has her still worked up. The Civil War, I cringe internally at today's topic since it’s a sore one for myself - having lived through it and fought in it.

“All I’m saying is, maybe history class should be more focused on the lessons learned, than just the events themselves.” She states rather passionately while inserting the key into the lock on the driver’s door of her car.

“To recognize and avoid in the future.” I respond, leaning my back against the rear of the small vehicle as I scan the wet parking lot packed with kids.

“Exactly!” She pops her head up, an excited smile in place as she garners my gaze again.

But just over her shoulder my eyes flick up to catch the sight of a blue van headed our direction a little too quickly for such a busy spot. A car horn blaring has her turning in its direction and the gasp I hear across the parking lot from Alice sends me into action. I grab Y/n by the waist and spin her against her car, so that my back might take the brunt of the hit, but it never comes as the rear of the van just barely slides past us. I relax the grip I have on her and tear my eyes from hers as I spin my head in the direction of the vehicle, ready to yell at the driver for being so reckless. The words die in my throat as I see where it’s headed - straight for Isabella Swan.

“Bella!” Y/n screams, but it’s lost in the screech of tires and the headphones in her ears that are keeping the outside world out.

Just as I’m about to damn us all to save another girl from this idiot driver, Edward flashes past to stop the van from crushing the Sheriff’s daughter.

“Fuck.” I whisper, glancing back to where my other adopted siblings are standing next to their own vehicles - faces unreadable, but emotions blaring alarm.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please be safe getting home?” I ask her urgently as I peel my fingers from where they want to stay gripping her, safe and close to me.

“But Jas-“ she starts, a little shell shocked at my quick action of saving her and the close call with her friend.

A whistle from Emmett interrupts her before she can interrogate me, so I flash her an apologetic smile before jogging at a normal human pace to the familiar silver Jeep. My hands flex in my lap the entire tense ride home, warm and tingly from when I gripped Y/n to protect her fragile little human body.

If we weren’t vampires already, this family meeting about to take place would definitely give Carlisle a full head of gray hair.

• January 26th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Hey, mind catching me up on what that was yesterday?” I immediately bombard Jasper as I sit across from him at what I’ve mentally deemed ‘our table’ at lunch.

He glances up from his sketchbook with a look that says he wasn’t prepared for my blunt line of questioning.

“The saving you from certain death part, or?” He leaves open ended for me to clarify.

“The part where Bella was alone next to her truck, but your brother teleported to her side AND somehow the van skidded to a stop right before turning them both into pancakes?” I’m not pulling my punches with my queries, after having spent last night stewing over what I had seen.

“He wasn’t that far from her when I moved you out of the way, I must’ve distracted you enough that you didn’t see him walking to her after he got out of class. Plus, the van wasn’t going that fast, maybe when it hit the back of her truck the tires got traction and he could brake properly.” He answers, turning his gaze back to his sketch and resuming his work.

I don’t really buy it, but I mull over my recount of yesterday afternoon as I pull my lunch from my bag. Was I so focused on Jasper the moment he put his hands on me? Was I so soda-strawed in on Bella being in the way of the van that I missed Edward?

No, something isn’t adding up. I know that van was hauling ass in the parking lot, I was going to yell as much at the idiot driving before I saw it headed for Bella. But I can also tell I won’t be getting the answers I want from Jasper. I can tell from the rigidity of his spine that he’s worried I’ll ask more questions. I mean, his recount of the accident isn’t out-landish, but I know what I saw!

I need to talk to Bella.

“Yeah I guess that makes sense.” I acquiesce. I see him deflate a little with relief as I pick at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Thank you for saving me, by the way.” I add nervously, a little heat working it’s way onto my cheeks.

Jasper glances up to my face and with a small smile, “Anytime Y/l/n, anytime.”

• January 27th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

“Bella!” I yell down the hallway, catching her as she slams her locker shut. I jog over to her as she turns towards the exit, everyone that has Mr. Banner for Biology is going on a field trip today.

“Hey Y/n, what’s up?” She questions, seeing the look on my face.

“Tuesday, parking lot, what the hell happened?” I jump right into it.

“Tyler must’ve lost traction-“

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Edward was nowhere near you.” Cutting off her redirection. “Jasper won’t budge, he insists I was distracted and didn’t see his brother before the accident.”

Bella glances around the hallway and decides to pull me into the empty female bathroom for some privacy.

“Edward is avoiding me, I was asking him the same questions when I was at the hospital and he refused to answer.” She answers nervously.

“It’s weird, right? I mean, one second I’m unlocking the door to my car, and the next Jasper spins me around to protect my body with his. And then I see Edward jump over the tailgate of your truck when I thought Tyler’s van was going to end you.” I’m just rambling the thoughts that have been pinging around the last two days.

I can see her hesitate, “You can talk to me, you know? I kinda don’t have any friends besides you, I mean - if you want to be friends?” I tack on the last part, worried I’d over stepped.

“Yeah no, of course - I um, I could use a friend to vent to.” Bella glances down at her shoes, picking at the sleeves of her sweater as the both of us exit the bathroom. “He’s coming on today’s class trip, I’ll talk to him then and see what I can find out.”

“Perfect, want to sit with me on the bus?” I ask, walking out of the building for the student parking lot where the buses are waiting.

“As if I’d risk getting stuck sitting with Mike Newton, absolutely.” She jokes back. “I’m going to grab my book from my truck, I’ll be there in a sec - save us a seat!” She yells as she jogs to her vehicle across the parking lot.

As I board the first bus I can hear Mr Banner yell at everyone loitering in the parking lot, “Yo yo yo, hey guys c’mon! We gotta go, we gotta go! Green is what? Good, let’s go!”

A few moments later Bella joins me in our claimed seat, book in hand looking a little frazzled. I see Mike pass us with a forlorn expression on his face, “Oh God, what happened?” I ask.

“He asked me to prom and I told him to ask Jessica, please don’t make me talk about it.” She answers with what I assume is a shiver of discomfort.

I want to laugh, but I just grin instead. “Your not-so-secret admirer fumble is safe with me, Bells.” I knock my shoulder into hers to tease her a little as I crack open my own book I brought for the bus ride.

• Community College Greenhouse •

Reader

Walking alone in line through the greenhouse, my hands drift over the different sprouting vegetables. Behind me I can hear Mr. Banner giving a spiel on “compost tea” and how its derived from table scraps and other organic waste. Every now and then my fingers float over the soft petals of flowers placed sporadically through the hundreds of food-producing plants; earlier it was explained that they encourage pollinators to visit.

Even though I’m a smidge lonely since Bella is hanging back with Edward, I’m glad to be surrounded by greenery instead of stuck in a stuffy classroom.

Just as Tyler Crowley pushes past with a clear mug of what looks like poop/dirt water, I spot Alice just ahead standing to the side of the isle with Jasper to allow students to flow by. When I get within arms reach, Alice loops her elbow through mine, almost like she could sense my loneliness.

“So,” she drags out the word cheerfully, “Enjoying the plants? Fresh air? Freedom from school?”

“Oh absolutely,” I glance over my shoulder at Jasper following behind us silently. “I’m surprised you’re not off in a corner doodling flowers, Hale.” I catch him duck his head and chuckle under his breath as Alice watches our interaction, surprised.

“And isolate myself away from your commentary? Never, Y/l/n.”

“Oh, Emmett’s opinions on your drawings are too much, but mine aren’t?” I smile as I turn to look at new plants as we pass them in our slow walk through the final greenhouse.

“My brother isn’t nearly as interesting.” His response catches me off guard and if it weren’t for Alice’s grip on my arm I would’ve stumbled on the wet concrete.

“As I live and breathe, Jasper Hale flirting-“ but Alice doesn’t finish her sentence due to Jasper snaking out a pinch to her ribs, her flinch forcing our hold to separate. Before I could chide Alice for teasing her brother for just being nice, Edward storms up to the three of us.

“Ready to leave?” He glances between his siblings, pointedly ignoring me so that I wouldn’t feel the obligation to join them.

“Edward-“ Alice says disapprovingly, but he pushes past us without waiting for an answer. She looks at me apologetically before skipping after him.

“Sorry about my brother, he’s insufferable when he’s in a mood.” Jasper offers as explanation as we watch the two of them exit the greenhouse.

“I get the feeling he’s always in a ‘mood’.” My fingers emphasize the last word with air quotations and it draws another chuckle from the gorgeous boy at my side.

“Touché.” He says with a grin. “I better catch up before they ditch me, see ya around darlin’.” He weaves his way through the crowded isle and out of sight before the heat settles in my cheeks.

I manage to file outside and towards the buses with the rest of my class after I gather my wits. I spot Bella already in our shared bus seat with a sad expression. “Wanna talk about it?” I ask as I sit.

“Not right now.” She answers, turning to look out of the window.

#twilight #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock hale #redamancy series #bless-my-demons #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #female reader insert #jasper hale twilight #jasper hale x female!reader #slow burn #romance

448 notes · View notes