#who always said I had normal test results and then I finally got my records and it turns out I was OFF THE CHARTS LOW on aldosterone

[tj-crochets]

Thank you everyone!!! What I am getting from everyone is that blood sugar varies a lot over the course of the day, and while probably not serious if it's not hypoglycemic it's still weird that I'm consistently testing in the fasting range when not fasting, and that I should talk to my endocrinologist about it. Luckily, I have an endocrinologist appointment coming up anyway, which is good because one of the medications I am on is supposed to cause high blood sugar. Like, that's not why I'm on that medication (I'm on it because salt) but it's known to cause both high blood sugar and high blood pressure (by making you retain salt) and I have neither???

Hey y'all! Another weird question for you: How long do you have to fast for a blood sugar reading to count as a fasting blood sugar measurement? Also, does drinking soda (like, full sugar soda) slowly over the time before the blood test count as not-fasting? Asking because I keep testing* in the fasting blood sugar range when I am pretty sure I am not supposed to. Like, two hours after eating a meal when I've been slowly drinking soda the whole intervening time, or half an hour after drinking a whole full-sugar gatorade *with the home blood sugar test thing, not like doctor's office tests. though I test in the fasting range there too? I do know the word for the tester thing but I am brain fogged at the moment

[bozepomagaj]

College AU!Trigun (part 1)

I can't believe I'm actually posting something I made on a long ass car ride LMAO. I haven't written fanfics in a long time, and this is my first time with 'x reader' fanfics so you'll have to bear with me on this one, I'm treating this as an experiment to see if I can even make these types of fanfics (also I'm a lesbian. But I'm not immune to babygirls.). Criticism is always appreciated on this blog🤝. Also wanted to mention that english is not my first language so I apologize for my poor/repetitive vocabulary. This was proof read but I also apologize in case I missed a mistake or two.

|------------------------------------------------------|

Summary: you end up at a party and save a mysterious but pretty blondie that your dear friend won't shut up about

Tw: drugging

Cw: swearing, 'questionable noises' get brought up once

Word count: 2.2k

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

There was an infamous guy on campus that seemingly, everyone knew. Rumors about him spread quickly every couple of weeks but what we do know is this:

He came here through a recommendation. Didn't have to work hard like the rest because his relative, supposedly late mother, was an up-and-coming biologist who apparently stuck her nose where she shouldn't have and got killed in an 'accident'. No records of said crash could be found, presumably because the government did their best to cover it up. He barely studies and instead spends time at parties getting drunk out of his mind but luckily he's incredibly smart which means all he really has to do is anxiously study the night before the test and he'll get incredible results everytime. He's kind, caring, cheerful, and many other positive adjectives, or so you've been told by your dear friend Meryl who's been trying to get you to meet him for the past few weeks. She always complained about how you need to 'live a little' because you never went out, always nose deep in some book studying or on your phone, never the outgoing type. She never forced you to go out but this time, she had to because you needed to meet Vash Saverem, the guy she would talk about nonstop.

You stood in front of the door, loud music blaring, people screaming in excitement as their favorite song came on, lights flashing in your eyes until all you could see is white. You could even make out some... questionable sounds but this was normal. This was college. You were going to grab your phone to call Meryl when she bursts out of the front door carrying quite a large, half-unconscious man.

"Oh my god you came afterall, I thought you were gonna ditch me!"

You rolled your eyes at the comment, she promised you 20 bucks if you finally came out of your hidey-hole and who are you to say no to that type of money?

"Yeah, I need to get out from time to time too."

"Good! Now come in!"

She grabs your hand and pulls you inside, giggling while doing so. Clearly she was a little tipsy already. She dragged you to the only clean table in the house, most likely defended it with her life to make sure it stays like that.

"So it's just the two of us?"

"Nope. Others are scattered around, I'll go and find them okay? You just stay here."

It was only then that the realization of what you're doing hit you. You're about to meet her friends. 3 other complete strangers that you only knew some bits and pieces about (except Vash) and you had no idea if they were even gonna like you. You looked around nervously, contemplating if this really was a good idea. The place was already cramped but somehow it felt even more cramped and stuffy in this moment.

"Are you like... sure about this?"

"What do you mean?"

It was honestly surprising how you didn't meet her friends yet, considering how much time she spent around them and how many random stories she told you about them. You made an image in your head of every single one of the individuals she spoke of. The heavily religious Nicholas D. (she said it stands for dickhead) Wolfwood who, despite studying theology and being the first person in the church on a Sunday morning, drank like a 40 year old man with marriage problems. Milly Thompson, a total sweetheart but also not the brightest bulb who went to the gym at least 4 days every week and was fucking shredded and him. Vash. The one and only. She was convinced you two would be great friends when you meet eachother but you doubted that, considering how many stories she told you about him going out to random parties. She left as quickly as she came, looking for her dear friends. You were never much of a drinker so you just sat there, looking at your phone, rejecting random advances from drunk guys&girls alike. 20 minutes pass by and Meryl is still nowhere to be seen. You get a little concerned, these types of parties could get... out of hand at times so you get up, looking for her. You walk around, trying your best not to bump into too many people but you're still met with an occasional 'hey' and 'watch it'. It's then that you witness a different scene. Two guys holding a blondie who was clearly drunk out of his mind, babbling something while the two tried to drag him upstairs. Weird... you thought. But it was then you saw them force his mouth open and quickly throw in a small, pink pill. You might not have been to many parties, but you've seen your fair share of movies and shows to know exactly where this was going. Other people saw the scene, too, but just ignored it.

Fucking Bystander effect.

You kept looking at the scene unfolding infront of you, your mind racing at a 100 miles per hour. You wanted to help obviously but could you really go up against two guys at the same time? Or would you just end up making the situation worse? It's then that you saw both of them hesitating as the blondies legs gave out on him. It was now or never. Quickly, you approached them, putting on the bravest face one could muster up in a situation like this.

"Hey, what are you two doing?"

Their heads snap back, fear in their eyes. Clearly they didn't expect someone to approach them while doing this. They looked at eachother stammering some excuses but you cut them off.

"If you don't mind, I'll be taking my friend back so he'll sober up."

You were quick, hoisted him on your back and dragged him to the nearest bathroom, locking the two of you in a stall. He was completely out of it and you could only hope it was because of the alcohol and not the pill. You forced his mouth open, he didn't swallow the pill. But even then, it must've melted at least a little. You grab the pill and flush it down the toilet, then proceed to slap him a few times so he could maybe, just maybe get a hold of himself.

"Hey, buddy wake up. What's your name?"

You kept trying but it wasn't working. He tried to say something but the words were slurred and nonsensical. You ran to the bar to get a cup of water then returned, making him drink it in hopes it would somehow help. You got your phone and tried to call Meryl to find out this mysterious mans identity at the very least but she wasn't picking up. Texting also didn't work. Frustration and anxiety kept building up, you never expected to be in this situation when suddenly, the guy handed you his apartment keys which you recognized immediately. Meryl had s similar pair which meant they lived in the same apartment complex. After some weird glances and bumping into people, you two managed to drag yourself out of the house, it felt like hours had passed by the time you were in front of his apartment, the poor guy still completely out of it. You unlocked the door hastily and dragged him inside. The apartment was... large. And fancy. Not really what you expected from someone like him. You look around, trying to find a bedroom and on your 4th try, you do. You drag him inside and lay him on the bed, taking off his long coat and his shirt so he doesn't overheat. You give him some more water to drink when finally, Meryl calls you back. Her voice is muffled, loud music still blaring and people talking in the background.

"Where'd you go? I can't find you anywhere."

"No shit, I'm freaking out cuz I'm at some guys's apartment."

You hear Meryls voice shift to being slightly panicked.

"What? Did they take you there? Are you okay?"

"I am fine but the guy certainly isn't! Someone gave him a fucking pill and I dragged him back to his apartment, he didn't swallow the pill so like... maybe he'll be fine."

"Holy fuck, uh, do you want me to come over or something?"

"I'll be fine but I'm going straight home after this. Maybe I can meet your friends another time."

"Yeah, yeah no problem. Sorry about all this I uh... didn't expect this."

You hang up and sigh heavily, putting your head in your hands assessing your situation. You're in a random, half-unconscious guys apartment, sitting down on the floor close to tears because this was NOT how this night was supposed to go. You were supposed to be drinking while meeting new friends and overall having a hell of a time. You decide there's no time to wallow in your misery and you get up, checking back on the guy. He's sleeping soundly, his beautiful facial features still visible by the moonlight seeping through the window. In a way he looked angelic... otherworldy. You grabbed a pen and some paper and wrote a small note.

"Dear stranger,

We don't know eachother but I dragged you home cuz you almost got roofied. If you still feel sick in the morning, please call an ambulance. I hope your hangover isn't too bad.

Ps. Here's my phone number in case you need help with anything."

You left it on the nightstand and quietly exited the apartment. You stumbled back home, absolutely wasted from... well, everything. You got changed, did your nightly routine and the moment your head hit the pillow you fell asleep, exhausted from everything that happened.

-|-

You woke up to the sound of your phone blaring and vibrating. You grabbed it with an annoyed groan slipping past your lips. You tried to turn off your alarm... but realize it was actually a call. Who the, and excuse my language, FUCK would be calling you at 6:07am? You answer with a raspy voice, not even bothering to clear your throat.

"Oh my God you actually picked up, hi! I'm the guy you helped yesterday."

And just like that you were wide awake. Memories of last night flooded your brain as panic set in again.

"Hey, hi, are you okay? Did you call an ambulance?"

"No I didn't, I'm doing fine now thanks to you. I wanted to thank you for helping me out. If I'm being honest I don't remember a thing so... I'm just glad I'm home safe. Thank you."

His voice was like honey, you couldn't tell if he actually sounded that nice or because you still weren't fully awake and being complemented this early in the morning gave you a kind of an adrenaline rush.

"It's no big deal really, it's the least I could've done."

You replied with a small giggle. Not sure what was so funny but just the fact that someone came to thank you for your good deed felt nice.

"It is a big deal though! I'm treating you to coffee or some cakes, I know a really good place. But it would be nice if I knew your name."

Overly-sweet, he was just like the cakes he mentioned. You couldn't help yourself but to smile, it's rare to find people like these today.

"Yeah, sure. The name is (Y/N) (L/N). And you, my mysterious drunken man?"

He giggled at the nickname. For someone to sound so angelic and energetic at 6:10am, he left you in an awe.

"Vash Saverem."

And with that your jaw just dropped. He was the guy you were supposed to get drunk with yesterday, chat about something random and not drag him half-dead body home, wondering if he'll be okay or not. You stayed silent for a couple seconds before nervously talking.

"Oh my God I know you. Kind of, you don't know me but- it's hard to explain okay? We'll talk more when we meet up, bye."

You could hear him protest on the other side of the phone but you quickly hung up out of shock and disbelief. It's like this couldn't get any weirder. You quickly call Meryl, she was gonna murder you for calling her this early but it would only be right to tell her about her friend, right? The phone rang once... twice... three times... four times... and then you heard a loud, pissy groan.

"Seriously. 6am? What is wrong with you."

"Remember the guy I had to drag home yesterday? Turns out it was Vash."

Thank the lord you moved your phone away from your ear because the screech she let out was ungodly.

"You're kidding right!? How do you know!? And is he even okay now?"

Her voice was panicked, you could tell she was concerned about her friend.

"Yes, yes he's fine now. He called me this morning cuz I left him my phone number in case he needed me for something. I still think you should go check on him, just in case."

Meryl hangs up hastily, most likely to run over to Vash's apartment to see how her friend is doing. You just stay there staring at the wall.

You wonder if you'll ever get those 20 bucks she mentioned.

[dreadark]

compilation of some comments in official RI medical records

That's a sure sign of a diva who hasn't seen much of the real world, if you ask me. She needs a lesson in the grim reality of war and just how hard the Infected have it. Skyfire should be given more hands-on combat missions to knock some sense into her. —Medic Operator Gavial A reminder, Gavial, that all physical examinations are public record. —Dr. Kal'tsit

Well, look what we have here! Your body's pretty well built! —Gavial, admiring Eunectes

The physical exam went smoothly, but her heartbeat was abnormally fast and that confounded the data. —Gavial, clueless about Tomimi

That gal wakes up before daylight and starts training every day without exception... How can she not be in good shape? Argh, I wanna arm wrestle with her... If I get to fight her, that's even better! —Gavial, appreciating Akafuyu

If Weedy can still get infected despite all these protective measures, then life on Terra can no longer persist. —Gavial

Having that said, what are we even doing for her? Is she going to live here? Are you crazy? —Gavial, opposed to Leizi

Minor infection, nothing to be concerned about! I know my own body the best, of course. Rhodes Island's course of treatment has been effective in controlling and stabilizing the disease. However, physical performance has been affected considerably, down peak levels. Guess it's time to do some rehab... —Gavial, definitely not downplaying her own condition

Even among Vouivre, this girl has one of the most incredible bodies I've ever seen. I'm somewhat curious to see if she even can contract Oripathy at all, if her body can just tough it out... But whatever, that's probably not happening. Test it out? No, that's not an option. —Warfarin, about Bagpipe

We finally got one! An infected Vouivre! —Warfarin, about Toddifons

I was wondering what's the big deal when they told me Lungmen confiscated Ch'en's physical report. Turns out it was no big deal at all. Lame. —Warfarin, finding out Ch’en is infected

Everyday contact with Infected won't lead to Oripathy transmission, that's common sense; a majority of people don't believe this, which is also common sense. —Warfarin, in Honeyberry’s profile

What do I say? She doesn't really hide it, and she went so far beforehand as to tell me that her body probably isn't like the layman's, so I'm not overly surprised by this? Although if I could just have a little discussion with her, get her to undergo regular inspections in my office, let me draw a little blood, that's all. It wouldn't impact her in any real way. —Warfarin, wanting to experiment on Kjera Ask her yourself. —Kal'tsit

Nian insisted on entering Rhodes Island as a visitor and refused to undergo medical tests. After a series of gambling bets, dice-rolling, wrestling, and other competitions, the gathering of physiological data was finally put on indefinite hiatus. 'It's a darn shame that Gavial lost the last rock-climbing competition! We were so close to forcing her to get a medical examination. I never expected that Gavial would contribute to the medical department in such an important manner. Do your best, Gavial! There's always next year!' —Hibiscus, Medic Operator

What? She actually took a physical? Wow, she's so easy? I figured anyone Nian would haul in would be pretty much like her. Guess we're not gonna need Gavial's help this time, let her gear up for round two with Nian. Nian's idea for how to run the tests at the normal operator level had the examiner thinking of calling for a medic to shut the whole thing down. And Nian sure looked pleased with herself. She knew exactly how that would go down. But Dusk is really out of shape. Whatever, she's not taking a salary, so it's none of my business... Oh, the results match everything in the files we got. She has 'no connection' to Originium whatsoever. Not allocating any additional funds. If you're already struggling, you could always consider NOT starting a research project on some weirdo shut-in? —Closure

Miss Ling agreed to be medically tested, which we didn't anticipate. We thought she'd dodge us as hard as Nian did. She did show a sort of... laissez-faire attitude during the tests, though, so the results were all over the map. Not rigorous at all... but Miss Closure says not to mind it, so we suppose we won't. 'It's probably all the wine she drank,' was her explanation. —Medic Operator Hibiscus

Saria was my coworker at Rhine Lab. She is authoritative in the field of medical treatment, but did not become a Medic Operator. My guess is this is due to her lack of bedside manner. Just kidding. —Medic Operator Ptilopsis

Blaze, the next time you don't bring protective gear on the mission, I will have Dr. Kal'tsit forbid you from consuming alcoholic beverages. —Y.P., Medic Operator

Grani is in such good shape, even if infection was chasing her, it wouldn't be able to catch up... —A Medic Operator

Don't worry, Ms. Swire, Rhodes Island's hospital fees are quite reasonable. You only have to pay... —S.S.E., Medic Operator Any unfair charges to patients will have appropriate consequences. —Dr. Kal'tsit

Hey, this young lady can jump between buildings and punch through a wall with her bare fists. Makes sense she's in good shape, eh? —Aak, about Waai Fu

How great it is to be young. —Unnamed senior physician, envying Sideroca

Abdominal area feels pretty good on palpation. —Medic's addendum, after feeling up Ayerscarpe

Can she really do field work dressed like that? —Medical Department anonymous remark, judging Iris

In every way a person can be, he is very unsafe. —Sussurro, remarking on Tequila

That scent, it's so good... So refreshing... Ah, ah... Achoo! —A medic operator with a pollen allergy encountering Podenco

I hope we don't get too many more difficult patients like her... —A comment on Bubble’s profile

Shut-ins are bound to have a decent health advantage. —Tuye, relating to Indigo

Not good enough. I can still do better. —Folinic, about her own Oripathy

What? This is impossibly low! It would be impossible to have that little exposure to Originium! I cannot permit her to ever leave the medical department. Even if she wants to go fight, I insist she stays back! She is a special case! Anyone who loves medical science would want to see her! We must give her more exams and do a clinical analysis! Also... Come on, Dr. Kal'tsit, just this once, please! —J.A., Medic Operator, bewildered by Skadi Request denied. —Dr. Kal'tsit

Bonus:

Ahem. Everyone here? It's clear why the medical staff has assembled for this closed-door meeting... Yes, of course. You're all interested in Skadi, aren't you? Whether you are interested in her endocrine system, her skeletal system, her muscles, her nerves, or the fact that her Blood Originium-Crystal Density is almost zero... What kind of environment could foster that? What race is she? Her movement and physical functions are currently beyond our understanding, so how do they work? Right, right... Skadi has been kept a secret for too long! On behalf of Rhodes Island, all Infected people, and on behalf of science itself, we need to find answers! My plan is to put sedatives in her food... We'll work out the specific dosage, but enough for two hundred people should do, right? Then, when Skadi gets woozy, she will be taken to the nearest infirmary... And we've got her! Dissecting her would be a bit too much, but we only need a little more information to add to what Dr. Kal'tsit already has... That's it! Even if it's just a blood sample! A little bit of blood is no problem... Maybe a pinch of muscle tissue too? I think that won't be an issue, either! Everyone, don't you think...

Oh.

Dr. Kal'tsit? How long have you been here...?

—Dr. Kal'tsit discovered Warfarin's plan during her secret meeting, and fined her one month's salary.

[butwhyduh]

Pregnancy scare with the Batboys?

These all happen at different times in their lives. Dick at 24, Jason 26, and Tim 20 because I feel like that’s the ages they’d like have this.

Warning: it’s gotta little bit of everything. Fluff, smut, convenience story robbery, blood, one little crude sex joke.

Dick

“I stopped at the store and got everything we need before the store comes in. Even got those pad tampon things you use,” Dick said waving the box proudly. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the box.

“And what prompted that?” You asked, eyes narrowed.

“A coupon deal on them,” Dick answered and you laughed.

“That makes more sense. Let me put these up and I’ll cook dinner,” you said, walking to the bathroom.

“Nope! I’m cooking,” Dick said happily.

“Okay,” you said planning to help him anyways.

You walked in the bathroom to put the box in your usual drawer only to find it full. When was the last time you needed one? You did the math and realized that it’s been almost 2 months. With your university schedule being crazy and Dick got hurt a few weeks ago, you’d forgotten all about your period.

You skin chilled at the thought. What if you were- what if you were pregnant? You were too young. You were 24 but it felt too young. You were only dating. You hadn’t gotten to the kids talk yet.

“Hey babe, where is the- what’s wrong?” Dick asked from the doorway. He looked at the package in your hand and the matching one in the drawer with confusion.

“Uh, I missed my period last month,” you said and his eyes widened. “I completely forgot.”

“Oh.”

He looked at you frozen. “Wait- are you saying you might be...”

“Maybe,” you answered. “We gotta get tests and everything. And stress can mess it up. And we’ve been using protection every time.”

“Yeah. I’ll run to the store, okay?” He said before hurrying out the door. You sat on the toilet with the box still in hand. What if you were pregnant? Dick was a good guy but he didn’t exactly have a ton of money. He was a part time gymnastics teacher. You were in college.

“Okay I got 4,” Dick said, back in record time. He gave you the bag and watched you.

“Dick?”

“Hu?”

“Get out of the bathroom.”

“Oh right,” he said, leaving and shutting the door. You could hear him pacing as you took the tests. You unlocked the door as you waited for the tests to finish. A neat little row of absolute terror on the side of the bathtub.

“Are they done?” Dick asked anxiously.

“No. We wait two minutes,” you said almost hollowly with stress and he nodded roughly.

“If you are... I’ll be here. I’ll be here for whatever you decide. No matter your choice,” Dick said holding your hands. You gulped.

“Yeah. Thanks. I can’t believe I forgot,” you said with a little laugh. He hugged your shoulders.

“Things have been crazy,” Dick said with a shrug. Your phone alarm went off and you quickly looked at all of the tests. Negative. You both relaxed. You sighed in relief.

“That would have been crazy,” you said with a laugh. Dick laughed a little too. “I am not ready to be a mom.”

“Yeah. Same. I’d need a better job and a better place. Not that there’s anything wrong with our apartment but it’s too small for a baby,” Dick rambled on. He stopped when he noticed your little grin. “You know, I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you.”

You didn’t answer but pulled him in for a kiss that Dick eagerly returned before finally pulling away because you were in the bathroom surrounded by used pregnancy tests and boxes of menstrual products.

“I’ll clean up while you get dinner started. Yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dick said with a kiss to your cheek.

Jason

You’d been thinking about it for a few days with a sense of denial. Your period was late. And you were mentally freaking out. You were too young. I mean, you were 26 but it felt too young! Your relationship was too new! You had been dating for 2 years but it felt too fast!

You hurried down to a corner store that you didn’t normally visit near your apartment to grab some tests. You jumped a little when the bell on the door rang as another customer entered the store. You had been too worried and stressed about picking from the 7 different types of pregnancy tests. Were they all the same or totally different? You just wanted to know ‘baby or naw.’ You grabbed three and put them in a hand basket.

“PUT your hands up where we can see them,” a man yelled and you froze before looking up, your hands above your head, basket on your wrist. “Take off any jewelry and pull out your wallets. We’ll be taking those,” a man in a ski mask said. There were a total of 12 customers and 2 shop clerks.

You carefully pulled your crossbody bag off your shoulder and held it out. A man grabbed it roughly from you and you made a tiny noise that made him smile. He looked you over and you wanted to shrink away.

There was a loud crashing noise as the side glass was broken and a man with a pair of guns blazing stood in the middle. The bright red helmet let you know that it was Jason and you almost sagged in relief. Almost. He pointed the gun at both criminals and shot at their knees. The rubber bullets hit them both in the knees and they fell before you could even move. He quickly punched them both in the head and they lost consciousness. Jason roughly tied them up by the register and everyone started to leave the building quickly while grabbing their things.

Jason grabbed you and pulled you from the building and up to the roof, basket still on your wrist. He rolled his helmet off and looked you over.

“Are you alright?” He asked holding your face in his hands. You grasped his wrists.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” you reassured him. He looked you over before his eyes fell to the basket. Jason froze as he looked at the contents. A candy bar and 3 pregnancy tests.

“Are you? Why do you have these?” He asked, looking at your face quickly. You sat the basket down.

“Maybe,” you answered quietly. His mouth opened a little as if you speak but he didn’t. “I mean, I’m late.”

“Okay. Alright,” he said nodding. “We just need to test first. God, you were almost shot and you might be pregnant.”

He pulled you tightly in his arms until the armor pressed against you. Jason’s lips pressed against the side of your head. For one of the first times, he looked scared.

Back at your apartment, you could hear Jason pacing as you took the test. You unlocked the door and he came in, staring at them. Neither one of you spoke before the results came in. Negative. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“I would have been there for you. No matter what. But I’m glad that it’s negative. We should plan this stuff, you know? My job... it’s too dangerous,” Jason said carefully.

“I know. We can’t,” you said with a dry smile.

“I’d quit. If you were. So that you and the baby would be safe,” he said and you quickly looked at him.

“You shouldn’t have to,” you said.

“But I would.”

Tim

Tim’s hands were tight on your hips as he thrust in your from behind and you couldn’t stop making little noises. God, were you always this tight? He could barely control himself and the second you clamped around him in pleasure, Tim came as well. Both of you panted as he roughly and slowly thrust through your highs. Tim pushed in deeply before stopping to catch his breath and then pulling out.

“Fuck,” he said in a terrified voice. You turned to look at him confused. “The condom came off.”

Your eyes widened at the implication. “Did you- did you finish inside?” You asked as cold panic flooded your body. You were only using condoms at this point in time.

“Yeah. Definitely,” he said, looking down and in literally any other situation he would have loved the sight before him. His cum leaked out of you and Tim winced.

After a few minutes of trying to finally get the useless condom out, you were almost in full freak out. You were only 20. You couldn’t get pregnant!

“I’ll get plan B. Unless you don’t want it,” Tim said looking at you.

“Good idea. We definitely need that,” you said nodding. “But you can’t go to the store and buy plan B. Timothy Drake-Wayne buys plan B. Playboy like his father Bruce Wayne? I could just see the headline. I’ll go.”

“Smart,” he said. You quickly took a shower and threw on clothes before running down to a pharmacy. Your heart pounded as you asked the pharmacist for a plan B but she simply gave you a box that you paid for. You took the pill before even leaving the store and threw away the evidence as if someone cared what you did.

That night you had some nausea and cramping but were fine otherwise. Tim was extra nice in the next few weeks as you both waited to see if your period would ever come. He put in effort to see you more often and stay off his phone when you were together. Finally you woke up one morning with cramps where actually pleasantly happy to see that you had finally started to bleed. That didn’t happen often.

You told Tim who sagged in relief. He didn’t even know how much tension he held in his body before releasing it. He kissed your cheek and you laughed a little.

“Never buying that brand of condoms again,” he swore.

“I’m making an appointment to get birth control,” you said and he quickly turned to you.

“Really? No more condoms?” Tim said hopefully.

“It’ll take a little while to start working but yeah,” you said with a little smile. “Then I can be your Twinkie instead of your toaster strudel,” you laughed.

“Wow. I wish I could time travel to unhear that,” Tim said covering his face with a hand while laughing.

“You know that’s a good joke,” you laughed pushing his shoulder.

“...yeah,” he said with a grin.

[thats-sir-dyke-to-you]

I said i was going to answer all these questions at one point sooooo.... This is that lol

1: The type of dysautonomia I have is Hyperandrogenic Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (or h-POTS) for short

2. My diagnosis story is a loooooong one. The first time I became aware of any POTS related symptoms was when I was in hospital for an overdose on medication that affected my heart. (It was two medicines that when taken together in an OD disrupt the heart's electrical function). I was 17 and suddenly HYPER aware of my heartrate and was paranoid about the OD having caused heart damage. I felt tachycardic and tried many times to find answers for what was happening. They did several ECG's; all normal (as is expected with POTS), but got no further answers. It was dismissed as anxiety.

Fast forward a few years and I learn about POTS. I think it's likely I have it, so i start keeping detailed logs of my heart-rate (HR) before and after standing. Eventually i work up the nerve to ask a GP about it through my uni. It was one of the worst doctor's appointments ive ever had. He dismissed all my symptoms as low blood sugar and deconditioning. Describes my HR and pulse as weak despite not examining me. When he finally does take my pulse he is surprised by how strong it is. This ultimately does not lead anywhere. I do however purchase a blood-glucose monitoring kit and start recording my HR and blood sugar and find no correlation.

One day I am trying to donate blood plamsa and they say that i am tachycardic and they cant take my blood until i am cleared by a cardiologist. This gets the ball rolling, a bit, but its still at least a year before I even start being investigated for POTS.

With the aid of a new (better) GP i am refered to the only cardiologist in my city who has a tilt table. I first go through a battery of tests (multiple ECG's, a Halter Monitor, and an Echocardiogram (I get to skip the cardiac stress test because i am in a wheelchair) to rule out structural or electrical conditions of the heart.

Finally the day of the tilt table arrives. I do EVERYTHING to prepare my POTS to be as symptomatic as possible. I lie on the table. They go through the process. My HR stays steady. I am devastated. But the cardiac nurse says, "we'll just get you to lie down and then stand up again quickly, because it doesn't always show up on the test." I lie down again, and my fucking nerves are shattered. I can't see my HR but I will later learn that it is an even 70. I stand up and my HR immediately shoots to over 120. I feel the blood pressure cuff inflate and I am just praying that my blood pressure stays steady. I will later learn that it increased significantly.

I have to wait a week for a follow up with my cardiologist and i am so stressed for that appointment. At this point I have been waiting for just about 4 years and I have spent over $3000 in medical bills (over 80% of which i will thankfully get back due to medicare. I love you medicare) to get an answer. I sit down in the chair in his office and wait for him to come in. He records the appointment for his secretary to later type up.

"I am seeing [name redacted] a 21 year old woman referred to me with a history of tachycardia in order to investigate—", his words just fade into the background. They become secondary and I am just waiting for the penny to drop, for him to say nothing is wrong; for this to have been a useless exercise, "multiple 12-lead ECG's showed no abnormality, Halter Monitor indicated multiple incidences of tachycardia, as was anticipated, Electrocardiogram: normal, tilt-table test showed resting HR at 70bpm; blood pressure 108/70, standing HR at 123bpm; blood pressure 128/90, diagnosis of POTS requires HR increase of >30bpm upon postural change with no drop in blood pressure, result positive."

Result. Positive.

With two words I had been vindicated. I. Was. Right.

The rest of the consultation discussed that I have the Hyperandrogenic subtype of POTS, and went over a treatment plan. As of the current day I have been waiting over a year for a referral to THE ONLY POTS specialist in my country so he can assess my case and step up care. My current symptoms cannot be managed by diet, fluid intake, heart medication, or compressive garments for various reasons, and so now it is time to pursue options like saline infusion therapy. (Whew that was a long one)

3. As mentioned in the answer above, the time it took to get my diagnosis was around 4 years. (I first noticed symptoms in June of 2018, and finally got diagnosed in the first half of 2022.

4. My most bothersome symptom is a hard one to pick. What I experience daily is dizzyness and pre-syncope but it is not always problematic. Fatigue is definitely one that I find most disabling, as I feel exhausted to the point of not being able to complete ADL's (activities of daily living) such as bathing, hygiene tasks, dressing myself (I might be able to dress myself in the morning, but then sleep in those clothes for example. Sometimes i require complete assistance, but not always. Currently, I have been wearing the same clothes for almost 3 days), feeding myself (I can eat, but struggle to prepare food and rely on others), among others.

The most debilitating symptom would have to be heat intolerance. I had a day recently where I had to keep my head between my knees while out because I was pre-sycopal while sitting. I was so nauseated I had to use all of my energy not to throw up. When we finally got home, I couldn't even lift my head up from the pillow without becoming dizzy. When my POTS is that bad I become bedridden.

Another problematic symptom would be blood-pressure induced migraines, but I also have two other conditions that cause migraines, so its hard to assign a root cause to them, and it feels disingenuous to label that as solely a POTS symptom. They do however leave me bedridden in complete darkness and silence for three days. So. Not great for functionality.

5. A day in the life with dysautonomia: I wake up and generally lay around for a while. I have to be careful with standing up, but usually i forget to be. The first time getting up in the morning is usually the worst. On my way to the bathroom I will have an episode of pre-syncope, but thankfully I usually sit down pretty quickly. I've only had two syncopal episodes with POTS, but THOUSANDS of pre-syncopal ones, so I kind of just power through them. On a bad day, I would struggle to go about my ADL's. I typically would not try to negotiate the stairs and would be reliant on others for help. On a good day I might have an errand that I have to run, (like a medical appointment, a social engagement, or something like going to the pharmacy). I tend to be a home body and dont usually go out for extended periods of time by myself. I will then do my ONE activity for the day and come home exhausted. On a bad day I might request my anti-POTS miracle meal which I call "ocean brine". (A tablespoon of miso paste in boiled water, with plenty of added salt). This usually has me feeling better. On a typical day though, I usally dont shower, and I dont brush my teeth. I know. Believe me i find it just as gross as you do. I have a capital D Disability which makes it very hard to take care of myself, and though my partner does provide care to me, I also dont want to burden her with those sorts of things. The house I'm in also doesn't have a bath, so I have to take showers which I find much more energy intensive and activating in regards to my POTS. When I had a feeding tube I was able to run fluids over a 24-hour period to meet my hydration goals, but without it I haven't been able to do so, so I have been more symptomatic. Throughout the day my heart races and I get dizzy and pre-syncopal more times than I can count. Sitting upright is tiring, so I spend a lot of my time laying down in bed. I am content, but I know my quality of life could be dramatically improved if my POTS was under control.

6: my medication regimen is as follows:

Morning: 100mg tapentadol SR (for pain management), 10mg baclofen (to relax muscles), 150mg venelefaxine (to treat depression, but also to assist in pain management. Its my wonder drug)

Evening: 50mg tapentadol SR (for pain management), 10mg baclofen (to relax muscles), 10mg amitriptyline (to treat nerve pain)

My current dose of amitriptyline is going to be stepped up to better treat pain. Prior to taking it I was on 10mg of haloperidol in the mornings to help prevent nausea, but it would have interacted and I prefer nausea over pain. I have also taken Ivabradine in the past, but it did not cause significant symptoms alleviation, and I couldn't justify the cost of it (between $50-$70 per month) with all of my other medical expenses. I cannot take beta-blockers due to the medication I take to treat asthma. I also used to take salt tablets, but I couldn't get the dosage right with my highly variable fluid intake and caused myself some intense hypertension.

7: my favourite product to manage my symptoms would have to be: good old fashioned salt. I love my "ocean brine" as well on a bad day. On a really bad day I might endure the sensory hell that is compression garments. But even if it wasn't a sensory nightmare I would find compression garments problematic as they are costly and require a level of daily upkeep I am unable to complete. The best thing I've ever had to help manage my POTS was intravenous saline, but that was only while in hospital. It was nice not to get dizzy when standing up, though!

8. Favourite way to hydrate? Well, my most preferred way was running fluids through my NJ tube. I have comorbid gastrointestinal dysmotility, and so fluid intake is challenging to manage. As for what I hydrate with daily... I try to get my fluids by any means except just plain water. That usually takes the form of an energy drink which is definitely hindering more than helping 😅, and through my food. (Beloved ocean brine). I really struggle to drink a litre of fluids a day, and so im pretty much chronically dehydrated, and what I do drink I prefer to taste nice, especially since it makes me nauseated.

9: my favourite salty snacks include: ocean brine, seaweed, thinly cut chips, salted crackers, (oysters if I'm at the coast. I load those bad boys up), biltong (a dried meat snack similar to jerky but vastly superior in every single way posible), droewors (like bilton but its made from boerwors, an afrikaans sausage), and even just good old handfuls of salt.

10: I do not have a favourite pair of compression socks. I hate them. I cannot tolerate even mild compression, let alone the high compression needed for POTS. I also can't tolerate the recommended thigh-high socks or waist-high stockings. It. Is. Sensory. Hell. I get so overstimulated incredibly quickly, and I cannot complete with the daily washing required.

11. My mobility aids are as follows: two different manual wheelchairs used whenever I want to walk further than, say, 50m. One is a travel chair and is better for when someone is pushing me, but it is uncomfortable and difficult to use, but it was my first chair and I'm very attached. The other is a hand-me-down custom active wheelchair that mostly fits, it has dramatically improved my quality of life but she is at the end of her life and busy falling apart. A cane used for short distances. And a pair of forearm crutches for when a cane isn't enough. I would like to get a rollator to try and push myself to improve my walking distance, but the one I want is expensive. One day though. I am currently in the process of getting MY OWN custom chair. Very exciting!!

12: I manage a flare with bed-rest, cooling (with a fan, or sometimes spraying myself with water), and lots of salt. I am tempted to get another refill of Ivabradine to take when it's really, really bad and I just need to take the edge off. I also have medication i can take if i get a migraine. I also try to activate my parasympathetic nervous system as much as possible with deep breathing, or submerging my face in cold water, (or cold showers if i have enough energy to do so).

13: the thing that has helped me the most since diagnosis, has been my diagnosis. I finally have an explanation for what is going on with me instead of just thinking I was lazy. My POTS assisted me with getting on disability as though it may not be my most disabling condition, it does DEEPLY affect my day to day and quality of life. There is power in a diagnosis. You can get help. Without one you are stuck without any explanations or resources.

14: tips for cooking or cleaning with dysautonomia: Do. It. Sitting. Down. I shower sitting down. Life changing. Also: Last night was one of the rare occasions I was able to cook. I did the entire thing sitting down. I iron sitting down (except for the one time i let my pride dictate what i should do and i knocked myself out for 5 days with a flare). I fold laundry sitting down. When I do larger cleaning tasks like vacuuming, I wait for a good day and do one room at a time with sitting breaks. I do a task like unpacking the dishwasher while i wait for the kettle to boil and i sit down if i have to, or for things like putting away the cutlery. But, i will also be getting cleaning services soon as part of my disability benefits which will help HUGELY. I wont have to burn up all my energy trying to tackle one cleaning task in a day. Do it sitting down, and delegate (if you are able to).

15: when it comes to managing dysautonomia in work or at school, I am at a loss. I am unable to attend school or work with my current level of disability. If I go back to studying I will have to read up on effective strategies and talk extensively with my school's disability liaison for help.

16. My favourite dysautonomia-friendly hobby is crochet. But, I have to be careful because due to an underlying connective tissue disorder I have hypermobility in both elbows, which lead to ulnar nerve entrapment and inflammation. I also got both tennis AND golfer's elbow. I had one ulnar nerve transposition, and I'm saving up for the other. My other hobby is doing puzzles. I sit on the floor with my puzzle and just slowly chip away at it. Songwriting and playing the guitar is another one I enjoy. It allows me to express my feelings and get out what's bothering me.

17: go to comfort-show movie during a flare? I dont really watch tv or enjoy watching movies anymore. When I did, it was Ice Age. Now, id rather put on a video essay, or something like that. If i feel like TV, its Grey's Anatomy, or Clone Wars. Maybe if I feel up to it I might watch the tennis or some other sport.

18: my support system consists of my partner and our girlfriend, my mother, and my medical care team. I also have friends I can lean on and spend time with. Recently, communication with my family in South Africa has opened up, so I can talk to them too now.

19: best interaction with a healthcare provider? Id say my GP and I have a really good raport. I can trust her, and she listens to me and believes me. My psychologist is also an amazing woman who has helped me more than I can ever express. My physio is wonderful and has motivated me to work harder and fight to take back what levels of functionality I can. I also used to see an osteopath for massage and dry needling for pain, and he was wonderful and attentive. The dry needling really helps relieve muscle tension and pain during a flare. He would push a needle into my piriformis and i would feel a JOLT as the muscle relaxed around my nerve and relieved sciatica. The radiologist who does my ulnar nerve cortisone injections is EXCELLENT and has NEVER caused me any pain or discomfort during an injection. I have met wonderful nurses who held my hand as I cried and helped calm me down during some of the most traumatic times in my life. Its hard to just pick one positive.

20: my worst interaction with a healthcare provider is a dead tie between two. One incident occurred when I was 13 and less than two weeks out from a spinal fusion. My wound site got infected and the emergency room nurse who treated me thought i was exaggerating my pain and malingering. When the time came to change my dressing, she reapplied the bandage by slapping it down. Now, as you can imagine, having someone SLAP your FRESH spinal fusion surgery incision MULTIPLE times was incredibly painful. Just shocking treatment, honestly. Who does that to a kid?

The second incident occurred after a suicide attempt. The nurse screamed at me and cussed me out for what I had done. He totally lost it at me. I have hazy memories of him belligerently yelling at me, and having to be escorted away by a colleague. There are countless other incidents of health professionals deliberately causing me pain, or berating/insulting/demeaning/dismissing me, but those two are the ones that stand out.

21: one misconception i want to debunk is that everyone with POTS faints all the time. Only about 13% of people with POTS experience regular syncopal episodes. The vast majority of us do not faint. If you faint when standing up, chances are you have some other kind of dysautonomia. The likelihood is that it is not POTS. However, that does not mean that people who regularly faint don't have POTS, as there are MANY who do. But its not the majority. I, for example, have only had 2 POTS related syncopal episodes, and usually only experience pre-syncope. That means, for me, that I basically have every other symptom that comes with fainting, but I don't lose consciousness. I also dont fall over, but I have on occasion lost my balance and hit the ground. But I am still conscious, even though my vision completely blacks out and I lose my equilibrium.

22. I have comorbidities with my dysautonomia. I have the classic trio of Hypermobility (HSD, but possibly EDS (pursuing diagnosis)), h-POTS, and gastrointestinal dysmotility (oesophageal spastic motility disorder and gastroparesis). I have also had strange allergy flares where I spontaneously break out in hives, become short of breath, and generally just feel like pure absolute shit). Comorbid with my hypermobility/connective tissue disorder I have scoliosis which was surgically corrected, and resulted in chronic pain and nerve damage. I also have asthma. In addition to all of this I have Functional Neurological Disorder. I am also neurodiverse in that I have Dissociative Identity Disorder (like, actually DID, not tiktok or discord DID... Like the actual real thing that has actually really been diagnosed by a psychiatric professional), as well as dyscalculia, and it is also likely that I have other neurodevelopmental disorders which I am pursuing diagnosis for. Basically: I am the culmination of generations of genetic misfortune... Yay...

23: how do i deal with heat intolerance. Answer: I don't. I'd LOVE to figure it out 😅

24: my morning and nighttime routine with dysautonomia mainly consists of: take pills; lay down.

25: what's in my bag? I don't carry a bag, i simply keep everything on my lap. All i take with me are my phone and wallet (which i dont even have anymore because my wallet was STOLEN, but thats another story). I really should carry a bag with me, but I dont.

26: dysautonomia has taught me my limits more than anything else. It has also taught me how to navigate the medical industry, and to trust my gut. I know when something is wrong with my body, and my instincts are usually right (apart from the few times where they haven't been 😅). The medical process for me has largely been researching my symptoms, and bringing them up to doctors by suggesting possible causes. That has led to testing, and sometimes I've been wrong, but usually I am right. That doesn't mean I doctor shop until I get an answer I want to hear, though. If i dont fit the bill for a condition, then I accept that answer. But when I have advocated for myself and gotten tested for the conditions I have, I have felt very vindicated when I have been proven right. There's nothing quite like the feeling when you've been told that you are just crazy or making things up, and you finally get an answer saying that you were right to be concerned about your health all along. That doesn't mean I'm happy that I'm disabled, but it does mean that I have answers for WHY I'm disabled and I'm able to get the treatment I need to improve my quality of life.

27: advice for anyone who is newly diagnosed? Get a functional capacity assessment (FCA). You might qualify for disability, especially if you have comorbidities. In Australia, a disability is defined as a significant functional impairment. You may think you're pushing through things alright, but its not until someone assesses you and points out how you are significantly impaired when compared to a healthy person that you realise all the ways a condition has taken over your life. A FCA also allows you to pinpoint areas in your life where you need help, and get help that is targeted toward them. Also, if you can afford it, work with an Occupational Therapist as well to find strategies or tools that you can use to help you function day to day. But the really good thing about a FCA is that it is EVIDENCE. It is medical evidence that you can use to advocate for yourself in order to get the treatment you need.

28: if its one thing i wish others knew about dysautonomia is just how debilitating it can be. In my particular case, my POTS fatigue merges with my chronic pain fatigue to create a wave of exhaustion that I struggle to articulate. Its not that I'm lazy. I want to do things with my life. If i could, I would have a full-time job, I'd study, and I'd have a rich social life. As it stands, I am unable to do that. I can't even prepare food for myself most days for christ's sake. I wouldnt choose to live like this. I dont want to live like this. If i could make someone live in my body for a day, they'd understand. Hell, maybe even I would understand how bad it really is compared to being healthy and able-bodied. I miss going on walks. I miss running. I miss being able to stand for hours on end. I miss showering every day. I miss being able to keep my space clean and tidy. I miss being able to DO things. I wouldn't live like this if I had a choice in the matter.

29: what others can do to support those with dysautonomia? Listen. Believe us. That's all.

30: what does dysautonomia awareness month mean to me? Well, it means more people just knowing about these conditions. In a post-covid world, so many people have POTS but have no idea they have it. I didn't know I had it until I chanced by a mention of it online. Having knowledge changes lives

31: Anything else to say? Nope. I think that's about it.

October is Dysautonomia Awareness month and Vitassium has a 31 day challenge. And I want to participate but lack consistency so I’ll prob do them in clumps. Anyways here’s a screenshot of the list :)

See y’all in a few days!

(I’m probably doing Inktober too but that won’t be posted here lol, it’ll be the month of consistency challenges)

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy

Bakugo x Reader , Dabi x Reader

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by "heroes" Now that she's out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words: 2738

Masterlist

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You tried and failed to lift your head. This should alarm you, but it was something you had unfortunately gotten used to over the past… how long had you been here? You couldn’t even say. Maybe a year, give or take? But it honestly felt like a lifetime. You could hardly remember your life before. Back when you had a life, friends, family, a promising future. Now you were nothing more than property to some secret fucked up government funded hell.

You spent most days in a drugged-out haze. They liked to remind you that it was your own fault. All you had to do was cooperate, now you had to face the consequences of your stubbornness. But those hazy days were by the far the best. Those days it was easy to let the darkness take you and dream about what your life would be like if you hadn’t ended up here. You can still see the soft smile of Todoroki as he helped you study. You could feel the warmth of Kirishima’s hugs. You could hear the quit mumbling of Midoriya as he scribbled in one of his many notebooks. You could smell the most intoxicating mix of smoke and caramel as you and Bakugo trained. You wondered what your friends where up to now. Did they miss you? Did they still think about you?

The other days though… they sucked. They were filled with needles and experiments. Always forcing you to use your quirk on some poor helpless person. Always trying to find a way to use your quirk without your permission.

Compliance was key. Just do what they ask, when they ask, and do it right. Any kind of mistake whether it was intentional or not was seen as insubordination. At first you tried to be sneaky about it, thinking that if anything they would just punish you. But you soon found out that they not only punished you, but the person you were meant to be using your quirk on. It was better for everyone to just submit.

You’ve always hated your quirk. People tended to avoid you, scared of what you had the potential to do. No one understood that just because you had the ability to do something, didn’t mean you were likely to do it. It wasn’t until you got to UA and finally made some friends that you started to appreciate you quirk.

They called you Siren… like the mythical creature. You could control and manipulate people using the five senses. If they looked you in the eyes you could see into their head, and their private thoughts. You could hypnotize them with just your voice. You could paralyze them if they tasted your blood. Your smell…. was quite the aphrodisiac. As for skin to skin contact, it helped you share and feel emotions and sometimes even pain.

None of that mattered if you didn’t activate your quirk though. You could live your life just like everyone else. You didn’t just walk around every day controlling people like puppets. It didn’t stop the fear that festered in the hearts of the public though. Your biggest mistake was deciding you wanted to be a hero. You wanted so badly to prove to everyone that you weren’t the monster they thought you were.

You could have lived your life off the radar. But once you took part in the sports festival there was no chance at that. Civilians complained about how you had a villains quirk, how you shouldn’t be allowed to walk the streets unsupervised, let alone be given a hero license.

So, when there was only one agency willing to give you a job after graduation you jumped on it. They told you, they planned to utilize you in most recon and interrogation missions. Which made perfect sense given your skill set. They were going to train you to be the perfect spy.

At first it was normal for you to be gone for weeks or months at a time, with no contact with your friends. They understood you had top secret stuff to handle and always looked forward to hearing your stories when you got back. But the longer you worked there, the sketchier the missions got. Tracking bad guys turned into tailing fellow heroes. Interrogating criminals turned into “persuading” politicians. The last straw though… they had asked you to start sleeping with targets. The ultimate honey pot.

You started to be more vocal about your disapproval. You should have known better.

Now this is your life. Strapped to a bed, drugged up, and used as they pleased. You almost always had on a blindfold and gag. Except for when you had to “work” you lived your life in darkness, you lived your life in silence, you lived your life in solitude.

Your neck itched and bled under your collar. The humiliating thing was what kept you under their control. It acted as a shock collar, a tracking device, and it also monitored and recorded all of your vitals. They have to keep you alive after all.

You heard the familiar buzz of the electric lock on your door, signaling that someone was about to walk in. You felt anxiety bubble up inside you. Just remember the rules. Just behave and you’ll be fine.

You could hear quick quiet footsteps step into the room and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. After all the time you’ve spent here you had gotten really good at telling everyone apart by the sounds of their footsteps.

“Shit, what did they do to you?”

You felt tears well up and your hands began to shake. You’d know that voice anywhere, even if it sounded strained and emotional. It was Bakugo.

Warm hands pulled your blindfold off, quickly followed by your gag. Your hands jerked in their restraints as you tried to reach for him.

“Hey, its okay we’re here now. But you need to calm down. Your heart beats all over the place. They’ll know something’s up.” His hand smoothed your dirty hair out of your face. You could see the pain and disgust painted on his face.

You wanted to say something. To thank him. Anything. But you were in shock. You were also terrified this was a trick. What if they were testing you? So, you just stared at him with glossy eyes as he continued to free you.

He made quick work of the rest of your restraints, leaving only the heinous collar. He gave you a sympathetic look. “This is going to hurt, and I’m really sorry about that. But I have to get it off before we leave.” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, “Are you ready?”

Without breaking eyes contact you nodded silently. This was the first time someone has willingly made eye contact with you in months. You could almost drown in his vermillion eyes.

His hands moved from your cheeks to the collar on your neck, “One… Two…” Without waiting for three, as impatient as ever, he set off several small explosions that busted the bulky metal collar to pieces, but not without burning a thick ring around your neck.

You winced in pain, but you still made no sound. It was like there was still some part of you that was scared to break the rules. To speak without permission. Before you could even start to think about how messed up you were, Bakugo was scooping you up. He sprinted through the door and was racing down the halls. You wondered why there were no alarms going off. This seemed to easy. This had to be a trap, or maybe a dream. You felt yourself start to shake in his arms.

One of his hands wound through your hair. “Hey it’s okay. We’re almost out. The others are waiting for us. I just need you to keep your shit together for a little while longer okay.”

Before you knew it, he was kicking a door down and all the sudden you were outside. You gasped as you felt the cold rain hit your skin. You blinked in surprise at how bright it was, despite the fact that the sun was hardly even up yet.

A van screeched to a halt in front of you and the door slid open just in time for Bakugo to jump in. “WE’RE GOOD! GET US OUT OF HERE!”

The door slammed shut and the Van lurched forward.

You were now sitting in Bakugo’s lap clinging to his shirt as silent tears slid down your cheeks. You could hear the voices of Todoroki and Kirishima coming from the front of the van, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. You just clung tighter to Bakugo and continued to sob.

“I don’t know. She hasn’t said a word since I found her. I think she’s in shock.” His fingers tangled in your hair while the other hand rubbed circles on your back.

At some point you must have cried yourself to sleep. When you woke up you were in clean clothes, curled up on a soft couch.

You could hear voices coming from somewhere behind you.

“I know I don’t like it either, but we don’t really have any other options. We have no idea who’s on what side. Outside of the people here right now, who can we honestly say we trust enough to protect her?” You had never heard Midoriya sounds so rough and defeated. “She’s in no condition to look after herself and we can’t help. Not right now.”

You could hear pacing behind the couch, “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what they were doing to her. It was…. Sick a-and twisted. I say we take them down and ask questions later.” Bakugo only stuttered when he felt helpless, which wasn’t often.

“Bakugo you know we can’t do that. They may borderline evil, but officially on paper they are heroes. It’s a hero agency after all. If we attack that makes us villains, best case vigilantes. Both of which result in us ending up in Tartarus.”

“Okay and? You’re trying to hand her over to villains anyway!” You kept your eyes closed as Bakugo leaned over and pulled a blanket over you.

“I don’t know if I would consider my brother a villain. At least not anymore.” Todoroki sounded tired. ��Ever since we… reunited… we’ve had a don’t ask don’t tell policy. But I keep tabs anyway. He’s still shady, but he’s not working with villains anymore. If anything, we have more in common now than before. He’s my brother but he’s also a dick. He doesn’t really care about heroes and villains anymore. He just doesn’t like people in general.”

You stiffened. Were they talking about Dabi? Why would they trust him? Wasn’t he one of the villains that kidnapped Bakugo?

“You say he doesn’t like people, so why do think he’ll even help?” Bakugo was making his way around to sit on the end of the couch, gently moving your feet into his lap. He seemed to calm down once his hand found your calf.

It was quite for a while before Todoroki sighed, “Because unlike the rest of you… my brother and I know what it feels like to be an experiment. He won’t let anything happen to her. Villain or hero, he doesn’t care. He has no rules or code of ethics to follow. He’s our best option here Bakugo and you know it.”

You couldn’t take this anymore. All these guys sitting around deciding your future as if you weren’t sitting right here.

You slowly sat up, pulling your legs away from Bakugo. You blinked as you looked around the small room. Todoroki and Midoriya were sitting as a large wooden table that was littered with files and paper.

You blushed when you realized everyone was looking at you now, yet the silence persisted. Were they waiting on you to say something? You cleared your throat and winced at how dry it was. “Oi! Get her some fucking water, would you?”

You nodded your head in thanks as Midoriya handed you a bottle of water before taking a seat on the floor in front of you. “Listen y/n. None of us can even begin to try and understand what you’ve been through the past few years. It might be a while before you are ready and that’s okay. But when you are, please know we are here to listen and help in any way we can. Any information you can give us on what happened, what they are doing there, will be helpful in making sure we take them down.”

You nodded as your grip tightened on the water bottle. They wanted information. But what information could you possibly have that could be helpful. You spent almost the entire time drugged, blind, and chained to a bed. Your heart began the thud against your chest at the memories.

Bakugo was quick to scoot over. He didn’t touch you, but he wanted you to know he was there. “Hey it’s okay. Like he said. No one’s asking you to say anything right now.”

Todoroki grabbed something off of the table in front of him before strolling over to hand it to you. “Here. I noticed you are having some difficulty speaking. Given what you’ve been through it’s not really a surprise. So, you can use this to get your thoughts out. Whether they be private or not. It might be good to just get things off of your chest.”

Again, you nodded as you took the leather-bound notebook from Todoroki. You flipped to the first page and traced the empty lines with you hand. You opened your mouth to say thank you but were shocked to find that you couldn’t make yourself do it. You hadn’t been allowed to speak in the labs. Not unless given permission, which was hardly ever.

You glanced around to the other men, gesturing with you hand that you needed something to write with. Of course, Midoriya, Mr. Takes notes on everything had several pencils in his pocket.

You wrote the following:

Thank you. For everything. I didn’t think anyone was coming for me. I don’t know why I can’t speak, but it’s probably because of the rules.

Bakugo read over your shoulder as you attempted to show the other two men. “Rules? What rules?”

You sighed and gripped your pencil tighter to the point of almost breaking.

I will not look anyone in the eyes without permission.

I will not speak unless spoken to.

I will not touch anything, or anyone without consent.

I will do as I am told without resistance.

I will remember this is the consequence of my actions.

You turned the notebook so they could see and you could feel the tension rising in the room. You almost jumped out of your skin when Todoroki’s phone chimed.

He quickly walked away to answer it, giving Midoriya a nervous look as he did.

You turned to look at the angry man sitting next to you. His eyebrows furrowed and his fists were clinched. Finally, his eyes left the notebook and met yours. “Hey I just… I just want you to know I’m sorry.” You gave him a confused look, but he pushed on not waiting for you to question him. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize something was wrong. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner…I- fuck- I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

You went to put your hand on his shoulder but paused right before you made contact. He growled as he gripped you hand and put it on his shoulder for you. “You aren’t there anymore y/n. There’s no more rules.” His fingers found your chin as he guided you to look at him. Your eyes widened and you gulped. “I don’t know how much of that conversation you heard earlier. But I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll check in with you as often as I can. If Todoroki says we can trust him… then I guess we’ll just have to trust Todoroki.”

You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile, but in all honesty it felt more like a grimace.

Todoroki walked back in shoving his phone in his pocket. “Okay he’s on his way. We have probably about fifteen minutes. Let’s get ready to move.”

[genesisrose74]

Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

[saanphoenix]

“Why do so many old-school FFVII fans think that Cloud took Zack’s memories?”

Alright, so first things first. We gotta start from the beginning. We gotta start with Jenova.

Jenova is the name given to the alien entity known as the Calamity. “Heaven’s dark harbinger.” This being, assumed to be female because of the body she was in at the Crater, was basically godlike in her natural abilities. Historically, she was able to shapeshift. She was telepathic. She had a nigh indomitable will. And she used her abilities to infect the race of human(oid)s that happened upon her crash site--the Cetra.

Now, Ifalna, within the English translation of the OG, states that Jenova turned the Cetra into monsters, nearly wiping them all out, and that the wee few that remained basically had to be sacrificed to seal Jenova away before she could do anymore damage to all life on the planet. The notes Sephiroth finds within the Shinra Mansion seem to corroborate this version of events, as he tells Zack that the Cetra chose to fight the Calamity while the other humans “hid”, thus being spared Jenova’s shenanigans, allowing them to become the dominant race on the planet, but ultimately being cowards unworthy to be the shepherds of any star, to quote Emet-Selch from FFXIV. Stay with me now.

We also know that the notes Sephiroth reads within the Shinra Mansion do not, in any way, call Jenova the Calamity. They still refer to her as a Cetra. Meaning that those notes are outdated, before the discovery of a living Cetra, a Cetra who is 2000 years removed from her own people’s history. Right? So.

(’Ah, but what about Genesis point-blank telling Sephiroth the truth? He knew what was up!’ Yes, because Hollander and Hojo found out from Gast’s recordings, and Ifalna herself, what Jenova actually was, and then Hollander told Genesis, who then said some stupid ass shit to trigger Sephiroth into looking into the wrong information, and now Nibelheim is not Nibelheim anymore and Cloud is missing one more family member than he was when he joined Shinra. Also, fuck Genesis. Anyway.)

HOJO, yeah? Hojo, in two separate novels written by Nojima himself, states to Aerith and Tseng separately that Jenova 1) will inevitably infect all life on the planet with her “cells” because of the very nature of the Lifestream and 2) turned the Cetra against each other via subtle manipulation and illusions of their loved ones, dead or alive, conceived from their own memories. She didn’t show up looking like the Eldritch horror with the eyeball nipple, she showed up looking like a run-of-the-mill Cetra. And she would further disguise herself as people a Cetra knew in order to gain their trust. And then, after she had gained that trust, she would say shit like, “Hey. Your friend over there hates you,” or, “Hey. Your friend over there wants to kill you.” And thus the Cetra, at the very least morally but probably also physically, became monsters and tore themselves apart.

You ever wonder why everything the Cetra had was booby-trapped and hidden behind riddles and self-sacrificial bullshit like their Temple? My guess is because Jenova made it so they couldn’t trust anyone, even themselves.

“Why did I read all that? What does that have to do with Cloud voring Zack’s memories?”

Because we gotta understand the mechanics of this bitch first so that we know what to look out for.

Now, we have an alien in stasis--presumed dead but definitely not--and a buncha scientists who really want a coveted spot sucking President Shinra’s dick as head of the Science Dept. who all think that taking the genetic material of a Cetra and splicing it into a modern-day human’s DNA will give them a Geiger counter to the Promised Land. Which they want to use as fuel because only some of them really understand what mako is and the others are just fucking stupid. Anyway, my guess is that they archeology their way to Jenova’s still-kinda-alive corpse and do some DNA testing and go, “Ah! We’ve found a Cetra. It has to be one! She’s by the crater, after all, and that’s where some of them were nuked by a Meteor! :) We’re geniuses!” And Jenova, in the Lifestream, went, “GOTCHA, BITCH!”

And through the power of dino DNA, out pops a lot of nonviable lifeforms, some monsters, and, eventually, a relatively normal kid with a flare for the dramatic who will become wholly obsessed with apples and very boring literature that he will insist on repeating every five goddamn seconds. As he was no Geiger counter to the Promised Land, out pops another relatively normal kid who will grow up to have dreams, and honor, and steal food from his neighbors because he was so damn honorable that he just could not ask for a handout.

With Hollander and Gillian’s experiments not producing anything of note other than children that need love and support, Hojo and Lucrecia decide to take a slightly different sample of Jenova’s cells and just start sticking them everywhere. They’re in Lucrecia. They’re in Lucrecia’s fetus. And...something strange starts to happen.

Lucrecia starts to feel the effects of Jenova. Lucrecia’s mind and body start to kind of deteriorate. Not the way that Genesis’ and Angeal’s do later on, but she is plagued by shit like severe depression and fatigue. She falls out on the floor multiple times. Her bodyguard is a little late on pulling the trigger of the gun aimed at her husband and, instead of doing anything productive about her husband proving he’s an amoral murderous fuckhead, she just decides to play doll with her kinda undead bodyguard, get even sicker, and then, finally, pops out a very strange looking baby. In fact, he looks a little alien.

“No, seriously, what does this have to do with anything?”

Genetics. How Jenova cells work. Whatever clump of cells they injected into Lucrecia, clearly different from those used in Project G, seemed to focus more on the mental fuckery aspect of Jenova than the physical, shapeshifting aspect of Jenova. I would also argue that one of the reasons Lucrecia was so adversely affected by the cells and Gillian was not is their mental well-being. Gillian, even when we meet her, seems very upbeat and doing pretty okay despite her husband having died from exhaustion a coupla years back. Lucrecia was depressed and very subservient even before she married Hojo. Losing her mentor--Vincent’s father--probably exacerbated that. And, later in Advent Children, that sort of mentality--hopelessness and despair--is what Sephiroth’s Geostigma feeds off of. That and thoughts of death/dying. But that is more speculation than anything.

So, Sephiroth’s cells are different from Genesis’ and Angeal’s, and they were all three bred differently, but they’re all kinda chimeras of Jenova’s. And once Genesis learns about his origins, it’s like the lightbulb goes off. This guy’s creating clones by infecting his 2nd and 3rd Class SOLDIERs with his own cells. And when he does that, their physical appearance becomes his own. As does their will. Whatever Genesis wants, the clones also want. And then he just grows a wing for shits and giggles. Once he tells his BFF Angeal the sitch, behold! He’s got monster clones--maybe because he realizes how fucked up overwriting a human being with yourself is--and wings, too. ...Why?

The power to do all of this shit was always there. It was genetically always there. They just had to be made aware of it, to have the puzzle piece put into place. When Sephiroth dies, that puzzle piece is put into place. And then he starts fuckin’ with shit. And turns into monstrous angels. And then dies again. And then comes back and finally grows himself his own wing. He did it, fellas. He’s a big boy now.

But we’re not here to talk about Sephiroth--ignore how much I talked about Sephiroth and his mommies previously--we’re here to talk about ZACK and CLOUD.

“What’s up with Zack and Cloud?”

First, what we must realize is that even though Hojo says that both Zack and Cloud are failed clones because they 1) didn’t take on any physical characteristics of Sephiroth, 2) didn’t seem controlled by Jenova (or Sephiroth) and, 3) didn’t exhibit the other signs of a Reunion impulse like the other clones in Nibelheim that does not mean that Sephiroth’s cells, Jenova’s cells, are not working on them.

As we’ve observed in other 1sts, abilities do not always manifest immediately or even noticeably. Clearly, Sephiroth’s physical appearance is a bit of a hint, but Genesis and Angeal look pretty damn normal and, if it weren’t for their mako injections, they probably wouldn’t be showing that much of an increase in physical capabilities. Theoretically. Maybe 10-year-old Angeal had biceps the size of a man’s head. I mean. Pff.

Zack’s tolerance to Jenova was strong due to his previous exposure in the SOLDIER program. Cloud’s mind broke pretty early on. Neither of these results matter to the fact that they both now have Sephiroth’s cells within them--just as Genesis’ and Angeal’s clones had theirs--and that their very wills are now going to be affected by Sephiroth’s. But they are also going to be a little bit like him in terms of power.

Zack’s hair, when ingested by a Genesis clone, a clone of a Type-G SOLDIER, transforms that clone into a monster. Zack doesn’t even have to do anything. The Jenova/Sephiroth cells within his body can just Do That, cause that change in another life form, of their own accord. I’m honestly shocked that, whenever they gave Zack these S-cells, HE didn’t turn into a monster. But that’s neither here nor there. I wanna talk about Cloud.

Cloud has mako poisoning, which the Remake describes as his spirit/soul being stuck between his body and the Lifestream. Weird. Anyway, he’s not fully aware of his surroundings at all times, and he clearly can’t control his body that much. He somehow has the ability to kinda get his feet shuffling, and I’m going to go on a limb and say he can chew whatever food Zack gives him, but most of the time, he’s a puppet with cut strings.

But he is also still recovering from a mind break caused by Jenova cells. The same cells that are just chilling in his body, like they are in Zack’s. And all the months Zack is dragging his ass across a continent, an ocean, and another continent, they and Cloud are listening to whatever the fuck Zack is saying. Cloud is also constantly in physical contact with Zack.

In The Kids Are Alright: A Turks Side Story, Kadaj has the power to not only read surface thoughts and memories just by being near someone, but he can also read deeper ones by making physical contact with someone. Because Jenova. And Sephiroth, whose cells Cloud and Zack have, in the OG demonstrates that he, too, can glean thoughts and memories from others. Because Jenova.

If this power is a genetic trait, as it is with Genesis and Angeal, then, sitting pretty underneath their skin, Zack and Cloud have this ability. Dormant. Snoozing. Kinda like the 1st Class Trio’s wings.

But Zack has a high tolerance and a high ignorance to Jenova and just what he might be capable of. Cloud’s mind is floating in and out at best. He’s not in control of himself. And when you have a situation like that, it is very, very easy to come to the conclusion that Cloud’s Jenova cells are passively absorbing the memories of Zack’s time in Nibelheim. That they are knitting these memories together with what little remain in Cloud’s head. That when Tifa comes across Cloud at the train station and calls him by name and remembers who he is that Cloud’s Jenova cells latch onto those memories in Tifa--as Sephiroth tells them they did--and they knit those memories with Zack’s and Cloud’s and the end result is the man we get at the beginning of the OG.

Because Cloud has visual memory of shit he never saw. It’s not just a visual medium telling a visual story. You wanna know how I know that for a fact? Because, in the Remake, Cloud remembers Sephiroth walking up to Jenova’s tank in the reactor from Sephiroth’s perspective. He is looking through Sephiroth’s eyes, through his memory, up at “Mother.” In that moment in the Remake, Cloud is Sephiroth. He’s not Cloud anymore.

Cloud sees Sephiroth delivering the speech of being an Ancient. Cloud wasn’t there. Cloud didn’t see that. Zack did. That is Zack’s memory.

The man writing the Remake is the same man who’s been at the head of MOST FFVII writing. He was on the OG, he wrote Advent Children, he wrote the novels, he wrote Crisis Core, he’s writing the Remake. He knows what these cells can do because he’s crafted this world-building for decades.

Cloud didn’t take all of Zack’s memories. He didn’t need to. Kadaj, in the novel, doesn’t glean everything from someone right off the bat. Because he doesn’t need to. Only when he needs to learn something else does he go digging. The same is probably true for what Cloud’s cells most likely did to be able to know what he knows. Hell! Kadaj gets punched in the novel and he ACCIDENTALLY picks up the emotions and memories of the guy who punched him. He didn’t want ‘em but he got ‘em!”

There is evidence within the OG, and even more within the Compilation, that lend weight to the theory that Cloud unintentionally read Zack’s mind when it came to the events of Nibelheim.

For years, people have wondered, “How the hell does Cloud know that if he wasn’t there?” For years, people have wondered, “How can he use the Buster Sword if he was just a little grunt that used a gun all the time?” The logical answer is, “Because of his Jenova cells. They can just do that shit.”

[dreaming-twist]

2. WEB

Some random oneshot for TwstOBer ~ Enjoy please xD

“Sebek, you need to find some other hobby. Do you want to try playing with my PC?”

“Human inventions that have nothing to do with magic? Hmpf! Sounds disappointing.”

“Well, well, at least give it a try, okay? It maybe surprises you.”

“... If you say so, Lilia-sama...”

That was how it all began. A simple proposal from Lilia had been his first and until now last contact with that world. And he still didn't know how he had gotten to the point where he was right now.

That day, in Lilia's PC, he found a program on the web that caught his attention. "Pass on your thoughts or knowledge!" It said. Sebek arched an eyebrow, and ended up creating an account outnof curiosuty with the first nickname that came to mind (Best Bolt) until he came across a recording function. Then he realized what this must be.

“I understand. It should be something like a journal, but instead of writing it by hand, you speak directly to it. Interesting invention, not bad for humans...”

And then, after clearing his throat and hitting the 'Record' button, he began to speak.

“... Hello? ... I don't know how this works, but I will try to adapt. This is my first time using one of these... inventions. It's interesting, but... Hm? Wait, why is there a light that is blinking on the side? Okay... I'll try to fix it. I don't know how the recording is turned off...”

Sebek began to investigate what happened to the computer, and in that time he wasn't seeing suddenly the counter of 0 that appeared on the side of the recording screen went up to 1, then to 2, and thus it began to rise. increasingly.

Once he finally fixed it, he returned to his starting position.

“Done. It was not a problem for me. What could I talk about today... Huh?”

As he was thinking, he suddenly saw an alert glow red on the screen, next to a speech bubble. Sebek brought the mouse to it and opened it, finding the words: "You can talk about anything you want."

“I understand. It even gives you suggestions... What a useful program... I'll talk a bit about myself in that case.” Despite this, Sebek decided not to speak the names of anyone he named... for his own sake. He didn't want to be embarrassed later if he listened to his own diary... “Right now I don't live with my family, so to speak. It's not that I get on badly with them at all; I went away to study and to fulfill my duties and my work. So now I'm living somewhere else, surrounded by... ahem, people. However, the ones I am closest to are... the family of a person I have known since childhood.”

He leaned back in the chair.

“One of them treats me almost as if I were his son, and sometimes I think he cares too much about me and pampers me too much. He has taught me so many things, and I feel that every day I learn a little more from him. I respect him a lot... although he sometimes takes advantage of me and plays practical jokes on me. I don't know if he wants me to feel comfortable and enjoy all of this despite being away from my family... or he just wants to play with me. He left me all this... equipment to test it and 'have fun'. Hum. I think once again he was right. His advice is always helpful.”

He made a mental note that he should thank Lilia.

“And then there is... the one who is the only person my age who has always been by my side. He is a very decisive... person, and too calm, I'll say. That is what makes him fail so much in many things. However... he is the person I have been with the most since children, and despite his failures and the fact that we argue so many times... he is very important to me. We do not consider ourselves nor have we called ourselves 'friends' before, rather it is that in addition to being one of the same rank as me, he is my rival and someone I like to continually surpass. I think he may feel the same way.”

For some reason he was saying things that surprised even him. He had never spoken so openly about Silver. How was this happening? Was he so comfortable talking to himself...?

“And there is someone else, who is who I am doing all this for and for whom I strive every day. He is the most incredible being I have ever met. Always correct, with the greatest power I have ever seen, diligent, perfect... It is directly my reason for being, I am SURE of it. I want to become stronger for him and be by his side to serve him whenever he needs me. I'm lucky that someone like him recognized my worth. He is my role model... Although...”

He bit his lip.

“... I think I'm not good enough to help him, protect him, and still be worthy. But I will be. Not because I started showing results later than others am I going to give up. That is something I am not going to do. I want to make the world see that I can become the best in my course... No; the best ever. And prove that he was not wrong with me. It doesn't matter where you come from, whose son you are, or if your power came to light sooner or later... WHAT REALLY MATTERS IS YOUR PASSION, AND STRIVE EVERY DAY TO KEEP WALKING!”

After blurting that out with a big smile and clenched fists, he soon realized that he had lost his composure a bit. He returned to his starting position, clearing his throat.

“... Ahem. For now I feel like I'm on the right track to achieve that goal. The first step is to be the best in my course. Or so I think. The people I... hang out with, from the same course as me are... peculiar. There is one who seems to be pursuing the same goal as me. But he still has a lot left. I notice conviction in his words but I don't see any improvement in his studies. However, he is stronger than I expected at first, and he excels at P.E. There's another... thing who wants to become the best too, but... I'm not even going to talk about him. That one is a lost case. There are two more who instead appear to be quite normal, but one only seems to have an interest in one thing, and the other... honestly, I don't know what to think of him, but he's very strong. And besides the four of them there is a... person who does not seem to want to improve on anything at all. Or rather, he doesn't seem to have an interest in it. But he is not an idiot, rather he seems like one, and I have learned from other sources that when he proposes it to him, he is capable of being the best student in his class. Perhaps he is the most suitable to call him a 'rival' among them. Although as long as he continues to seem so bored of everything that comes his way, there should be no problem... He also shouldn't like me too much. Although he keeps talking to me. He is an interesting guy.”

Sebek then took a breath to talk about the last person he was missing, after talking about Deuce, Grim, Epel, Jack and Ace.

“And lastly there is this… ahem, person, that came along all of a sudden. They doesn't have the capacity to be here, but they somehow got in and we're on the same course. When I learned of their existence, I felt that I had tried very hard to get here, while they had a special ability, although not the one that everyone else possesses, was able to enter without problems. It was unfair. I have ever thought that they were making fun of everyone.” He paused. For some reason, even though he had blurted it out, he didn't feel good about himself... Was that the whole truth...? It was then that he recalled certain moments that he spent with them from then on. “... But they are very clumsy. I feel like I have to be there to hold them if they falls. Studying with them is not unpleasant, they are capable to follow my advice and understand things quickly. I do not dislike those who strive to achieve their goals...”

Another notification appeared on the side of the screen. Sebek stopped speaking, a half smile adorning his face, and looked at the message, taking advantage of the stop in his monologue. Would it be another suggestion from the program...?

“How beautiful is love.”

The boy jumped.

“WHAT?! NO!!” He yelled at the screen, totally flushed. “H-How can a program say these things?! This is a joke?!”

The notifications came out again and Sebek managed to read some.

“Program? What are you talking about man?”

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with you liking someone, I support you!!!”

“Is Story Time over? I was really enjoying listening to you, Best Bolt”

“I have become a fan of yours! Will you talk about more things another day?”

“Your words are very inspiring!♡”

“Best Bolt u r the BEST!”

Sebek began to check the screen, and saw that next to a symbol that represented an eye appeared the number "5000".

5000... eyes?

WERE THERE 5000 PEOPLE LISTENING TO HIM AT THAT TIME ?!

“Hey. Did you listen to Best Bolt the other day on this popular app with podcasts that premier live?” Ace asked, as he ate his burger.

Sebek stopped eating when he heard that.

“No, but I have heard people talk about him to class people. He seemed interesting” Said Epel.

“I had listened to podcasts, but few that talked about personal life... And he spoke so calmly and in such a sincere and focused way... I wish I could do something like that” Deuce commented. Epel smiled at him, he felt the same way.

“I don't know who you're talking about” said Jack confused. (Y/n) and Grim were just like him.

“He cut the recording suddenly the other day, something may have happened to his PC... But hey, if he comes back I'll let you know for sure.”

Sebek ate without saying anything, next to them, who were talking so happily about Best Bolt, until...

“Sebek, youuuu... well, I don't even know why I ask, in Diasomnia you all are very old-fashioned, right? You don't use technology much... except Lilia-senpai.” Ace started to say, looking at him.

Sebek tried to avoid him as best he could.

“HUH?! A-Ah... No, n-no, I don't have interest in that kind of human-made things...”

“Heee... Well, I'll let you know when Best Bolt comes back anyway. Maybe it surprises you.”

“Y-Yes, okay, thank you” He replied, looking away... where he met the watchful gaze of (Y/n), quite close to his face.

“Sebek, are you okay?”

That was the last straw. Sebek quickly rose from his chair.

“PERFECTLY! AND NOW IF YOU ALL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE TO GO SEE HOW THE YOUNG MASTER IS!”

And with that said, the boy ran towards the exit, while everyone else looked at him.

“... Hey now that I think about it, doesn't Best Bolt look a bit like Sebek? That way of speaking, and everything he said...”

“Ha, ha. Good one, Deuce.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 134

Since I am queueing this chapter the same that I queued the last one, I just want to say:

If you have found my story in the last week, and liked it, thank you. It makes me smile when that happens.

If you shared my story with others, and they liked it, or even found a little bit of themselves in it, I’m very glad. Thank you for sharing something with your friends that they enjoyed.

As always, thank you to @the-raven-fae, @anotherusrname, @baelpenrose, and @charlylimph-blog for being my ports in all storms and the family everyone deserves to have.

Annnd the podcast. Don’t miss the podcast!  I don’t profit from it in any way, shape, or form, but the idea of a version of this story that is more accessible for people who would struggle to read it is something that should always be supported! 

A week later, I was wincing and out of breath when I reached my office for the day.  Tyche had enthusiastically agreed with Arthur’s suggestion, and after some tests from Maverick showed that I could apparently kick hard enough to break a grown man’s pelvis - although not without also breaking my foot - I had been expected to be in the gym for nearly two hours every day.  My legs hurt and my feet looked worse than the time I tried to learn ballet en pointe.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, I was also apparently very slow in reacting with my legs as a result of years learning to fight with, you know, my hands. Like a normal person.  This meant I was also wearing five pound weights on each ankle, all day, including when sparring.

So far, the only thing I had noticed was a demonstrably shorter patience and a reduction in how much I bounced my legs. Or sat comfortably.

I was so absorbed in my bad mood and how badly my legs hurt that I had already gotten coffee, greeted my mentees, and sat at my desk before I noticed something out of place.  As usual, Parvati and Hannah were across from each other at the table they typically sat at, but Parvati was standing and demonstrating something.

While using the table emitter, which they only ever used for my benefit.

Tilting my head in what probably looked like what Sparkle’s expression when she was denied a treat, I watched as Parvati picked up a vaguely pen-shaped object - it really looked more like a sonic screwdriver than a writing implement - and started making neon pink lines of various widths, swirls to test the slant it would make, and using it at various speeds before closely considering the color of each line.

“What in the world is that?”

“Paint testers,” Hannah explained. “Charly dropped them off with Vati last night, along with the programming to simulate how they work so we could test them with an emitter and not a wall.”

“Paint?”

“For the Festival. Charly designed these for us to use instead of trying to get permission to use actual spray paint.  The fumes of spray paint are apparently very caustic to Noah.”

I shuddered. “Yeah, no spray paint, clearly.”

Apparently satisfied with the pink, Parvati keyed her datapad to clear the emitter and picked up a different pen.  This one was a beautiful lapis blue. “She’s quite brilliant,” she murmured as she tested the pen. “The pens work like an airbrush, but she took some inspiration from something Arthur Farro gifted her several years ago and ensured the pigment will only last three Ark-days.  It also only appears under certain lighting.”

“And it’s non-toxic, of course,” Hannah added with a smile. “Because, you know… Charly.”

I hesitated before asking the next question. “How non-toxic are we talking?”

To my utter horror, rather than respond, Parvati opened her mouth and used a different button on the pen to paint her entire tongue blue. “They’re edible.” She closed her mouth with a smile before her eyebrows shot up. “Oh! That one is pomegranate!”

Hannah furiously made notations on her datapad before looking back up at me. “Vati already tested them on canvas in her quarters, but we also wanted to make sure the simulation software works so that we don’t waste pigment trying to figure out the design elements.”

“We’re also rather curious about what flavor each one is,” Parvati admitted before swapping to a toxic-looking green. “This one is peach, I do remember that. The pink was popcorn.”

I shook my head. “Do you want people licking the walls? Because this is how you get people to lick the walls.” I walked over as I was speaking and idly picked up one that was labelled as Titan Black.

Hannah snatched it away quickly. “That one is scotch bonnet flavor. I found that out the hard way.”

“I get making them non-toxic, but why are they flavored?” Hannah arched an eyebrow at me and I held my hands up defensively. “Other than the obvious application. Why design flavored paint pens for the Food Festival murals?”

Parvati blanked the emitter again and swapped pens. “That is going to be part of the design and experience,” she started to explain. “We originally wanted them non-toxic in case of the non-zero event that Else tries to eat the paint off the walls.” I nodded since ‘non-zero’ was putting it lightly. “Then I had the idea to include the possibility of Else eating the mural into its design.  Rather than worry that Else will eat it, I am planning on it: I am going to create a piece that changes as the various colors are devoured.”

“Annnnnd how do you plan on controlling what order Else eats everything in?”

She waved to the row of pens on the table. “These are each in a flavor that we know Else likes. I am currently testing in my quarters what the order of preference is.”

As my mind started to catch up, I started nodding. “Your test swatches last night.”

“Precisely. I have them laying out in a grid, easily accessible to Else, and they are being monitored. We will take the recording and determine what the order of preference is from there.”

I shook my head with a huge grin. “That’s one hell of a performance art piece.”

Hannah straightened her posture in an imitation of Pravati’s normal ramrod-straight demeanor. “There is nothing more fitting for a celebration of how humanity persists in surviving, despite how transient and brief life can be, along with a clear showing of how we intend to welcome and embrace the differences between ourselves and those most different from us - even those who once nearly destroyed us but wished to make peace.”

“That’s frighteningly good,” Parvati praised nonchalantly as she squirted a fluorescent yellow into her mouth. “It makes no sense for that one to taste of something spicy.”

I took the pen and forced myself to spray it in my mouth. I perked up when it was actually very familiar and delicious. “It’s gochujang…” They both looked at me skeptically. “Apparently Else likes spicy food?”

“I’m starting to think this is how she flavors her popcorn,” Hannah murmured.

My head shook on that one. “No, all her popcorn is decidedly popcorn-flavored. The coloring is added while it is being made, along with the flavoring. Same thing with her ice-cream, and with the candy bars.”

“I agree,” Parvati added. “This pigment is quite wet, it would never work on something like popcorn.” Pausing in her testing, she turned to me. “She has made popcorn in your quarters before, did you notice how she colored it?”

I thought back to the movie night, fighting through how nostalgic and relaxing it made me feel. “It has to be a high-saturation powder.  Other than the actual oil she used to pop it, everything she put in was powdered.”

“But it was toffee popcorn,” Parvati argued. “I remember because it was such a lovely shade of purple.”

Hannah and I both glanced at each other before turning concerned looks to Parvati. I was the one who eventually spoke. “You make toffee popcorn by adding sugar and salt while it’s being popped, Vati. Both are powders.”

“And how am I supposed to know that?” she demanded with a scowl before picking up a pen.

I looked back at Hannah, who was as baffled as I was. “Vati? Do you cook?”

She scoffed. “Of course not. Xiomara is a brilliant cook, why would I give that up?”

“But you know how, right?” I prodded. “We always have cooking classes going on here.”

She decidedly ignored us.  I gaped at Hannah, who eventually crowed with laughter. “Oh my god! We found something Vati doesn’t know how to do!”

“Xio does make a wicked roti with veg curry,” I tried to defend her. If she was deflecting, Parvati clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

“And I can cook,” Parvati argued. “I can roast meat, and forage edible plants, and clean them both.”

“Works for me!” I chirped, trying to defuse the situation before Parvati actually got upset. “If you can cook enough to feed yourself in an apocalypse, I consider that a solid fundamental basis.”

Hannah finally took the hint. “Well, if you ever want to learn more, gods know you have plenty of friends who can teach you. Hell, Sophia taught Maverick to cook, and when they first met he had a very iffy relationship with the concept of food in general.”

That got me a look. “He had been through a lot, okay? You spend thirty years with everyone blaming your sensory issues with food on just ‘being picky’,” I used air quotes for emphasis, “and yeah, you start living on the three foods you like and a lot of vitamins and protein drinks.”

Parvati stopped in her tracks and slowly turned her head toward me before taking a seat. “How did someone who doesn’t even eat to live end up with two people who live to eat?”

I felt my face heat up, but managed to limit my reaction to a shrug. “If he said he didn’t like something, I took that at face value and didn’t make him eat it. If he never had it, I thought really hard about how similar it was to things he did or didn’t like, and offered it to him - or didn’t -  based on that.  I never took it as a challenge I needed to make him overcome, just as a challenge I needed to rise to.”

She considered this for a moment, glancing to Hannah who nodded in confirmation, before speaking. “This is why you cook.” It wasn’t a question. Parvati stated it as a fact.

And I confirmed it was, indeed, a fact. “One of the few things Huynh and I agree on is hospitality. I don’t want anyone to come to my table and feel they can’t eat.  It’s how I was raised.  There will be food they like, and plenty of it.”

I heard a popping noise from Hannah’s direction, and turned only to realize that it was her neck popping when she turned from Parvati to me.  Eyes wide, she was barely audible when she whispered, “That’s why the Food Festival is so important to you…”

It took several attempts and a lot of nodding to swallow the lump in my throat. “We were all scared, and all strangers in this insane reality that we weren’t even sure was actually real.  I thought - knew - it would ground us, and even start uniting us. If we could all see that arroz con pollo, paella, chicken biriyani, chicken etouffee weren’t all that different? What’s more familiar than chicken and rice, or fried puffs of dough, or pancakes?” I shook my head. “I remember my first day on the Ark. I was in a mess hall, and even with my sister and cat, I knew I was luckier than most but so lost.  I just - “ I gulped and fought back tears. “I wanted shepherd’s pie so bad it hurt my soul. And I tried and tried to get it from the food consoles, and it was never the right thing. I must’ve tried eight times. It was so frustrating!” I didn’t catch myself in time to keep from slamming my fist a couple times on the table. “I felt even more lost.  Someone came up to me and asked what I was doing.” 

I took a deep breath to banish the concept of Arantxa from my head. “And dragged me to Conor because she realized that what I was saying and what she was hearing weren’t the same thing.  That’s how I actually met him. And, bless his face, he knew exactly what I was asking for and got it for me if I promised to help him get French toast, of all things.”  The memory made me smile. “Believe it or not, that moment mattered more to me than even waking up on the Ark when I should have been dead. Just… the idea that this person who knew nothing about me except what I wanted for dinner, was able to fix that lost feeling.  I want everyone to have that.”

Parvati was staring at me like she was watching the most romantic story in the world, but at least Hannah nodded seriously. “Steak and ale pie. I always want that when I’m stressed.”

I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “Exactly. And multiply that by every type of steak and ale pie anyone can possibly make on the Ark? I know I don’t have to convince you two to keep the Festival anymore, but yeah.  That’s why it matters so much to me.”

I turned to Parvati, who was drumming her fingers and looking down somewhat sheepishly. “Most cultures have a kind of curry, so I never really thought about it,” she admitted. “But it makes sense, from that perspective. I never thought about it.”

Reaching out to pat her hand, I gave her a serious look. “That doesn’t mean you have to learn to cook anything more than what you already know,” I assured her. “It’s my motivation. No one else’s. If you ever want to learn to make something you don’t know how to, I’ll be happy to teach you. If you never want to learn how to make anything you don’t know how to, I will be happy to cook for you. Just… don’t ask me to bake? That’s a Tyche thing.”

She groaned. “Those mini black forest donuts….”

“Exactly. Don’t ask me to make them, I’ll ruin them ten times out of ten,” I laughed.

“She should make donuts for the Festival,” Hannah suggested wistfully. “Do you think we could talk her into it?”

I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m not asking her to do it, so have fun.”

“But you’re her sister.”

“How the hell do you think I know not to ask?” I gave them both a flat stare that set them giggling. “Donuts for the family? Fine. Donuts for the whole entire Ark? Not touching it.”

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[rushingheadlong]

POP IN THE SUPERMARKET

Conveyer rock - is it all a hype? Colin Irwin looks at pre-packed pop and talks to the men behind new bands Queen (left) and Merlin

Hype. An ugly, unpleasant word frequently recurring in rock circles. 

Up in the boardroom of a vast record company the fat cigar brigade are scratching heads. Binn and Batman have come up with another surefire hit and they want somebody fresh to market it. They ponder a few names and finally decide on one with slight but clear sexual connotations - suggestively camp. 

Name settled, they work on the people who will be in this new band. They might be able to find a ready-made group to fit the bill but better to mould their own. There's a singer who has been around for a few years. 

He's not great but he knows how to throw himself around a stage, has a hairy chest and can hit the high notes. Give him a new name and he'll do. Somebody knows a lead guitarist who can play a bit and looks good. They can advertise for the others. 

They'll work out a sensational stage act, rig them up in some flash gear, buy them the best equipment and arrange a string of appearances in some influential venues. Plunge a few thousand quid in launching them with advertising and posters and "They'll be the biggest thing since sliced bread," chief fat cigar tells his underlings. 

Session musicians are employed to record the single and being a Binn and Batman special the radio stations label it "chart bound" and play it twenty five times a day. Seeing the glossy photos in the bop mags the kids gather up their pennies and buy it. 

VOILA, stars are born - or manufactured. An extreme form of hype. 

There's also a cliché commonly used in the business about people who have been around for many years and finally make it. It's called talent-will-out. An idealist phrase but there is still a popular belief that if a band is truly talented enough it will win through in the end. 

Yet even the greatest band in the world need a bit of pushing in the first place. When a record becomes a hit it's not always that easy to distinguish between hype and talent-will-out.

If a record company spends astronomical sums of money promoting a band, is it hype? Or is it a legitimate and necessary weapon in the music business? The argument is that the BBC's ever-tightening playlist and the effects on the industry of the three-day week have made it harder than ever for a new group to make it - talent or no. Without a big money machine behind it there isn't a hope. 

The situation is illustrated by two energetic new bands, who both look like breaking. 

Big money has been spent on Queen and Merlin, who have had new singles released during the last month. 

Queen's record, "Seven Seas Of Rhye," is already moving swiftly up the chart, while Merlin's "Let Me Put My Spell On You," is doing well enough to suggest it might follow suit. 

There is no suggestion that either band is a manufactured or manipulated product in the sense of the Monkees. They play the music on their own records entirely themselves and they are both hard at work on the road. 

Yet the question arises as to whether they would be doing quite so well without the resources of big companies behind them. 

In the case of Queen it's Trident Audio Productions and EMI and for Merlin it's Cookaway Productions and CBS.

The one common factor is that money and backing has been provided because the companies have a solid, unshakeable belief in the artists they are promoting. They are indignant about any suggestion of a put-on or that there has been any attempt to con the public. 

Listen to Merlin's producer Roger Greenaway for half-an-hour and there is no doubting his faith in their ability. "They are going to break, I know they are. I'm convinced the record will be a hit."

Nobody's saying exactly how much it has cost to launch either band. "Over a period of months between £5,000 and £10,000" has been spent on marketing Queen by EMI while the figure for Merlin is even vaguer. "A bit, but not a vast amount. Not a fortune by any means."

"Seven Seas Of Rhye" is Queen's second single and was recorded as part of the album "Queen 2" which has just been released. Things started to move for them about a year ago when they recorded their first album for Trident, who have a distribution contract with EMI. 

An advance was paid to them to help with the immediate costs of putting them on the road. 

Review copies of the album - about 400 of them - were sent out to everyone who might conceivably have any influence on the record buying public, from discos to the national press. Copies were personally distributed to radio and TV producers and extensive advertising space was bought in the trade papers. 

The launch for Queen was more concentrated than most artist are entitled to expect. 

Trident were completely behind them from the start and found them their American producer Jack Nelson. EMI promotions men Ronnie Fowler and John Bagnall decided they had a product with an exceptional chance of success and they went all out to exploit it to the full. 

Says Fowler: "Every record we release we work to a pattern of promotion. When I went round with the album it was normal procedure. It becomes un-normal when people start phoning you - that's when you put more effort into it."

Bagnall adds: "It became obvious after a week or so that it wasn't standard promotion that was necessary. We did a more complete promotion job than usual on Queen because we thought they were going to make it.

"They're all good-looking guys and I did a round of teeny papers and all the girls in the office swooned over them. Brian, the lead guitarist, had made his own guitar and a couple of the nationals picked up on that. It was good, gossipy stuff."

Queen's publicity machine was working from all angles because they were also getting external promotion from Tony Brainsby's promotion office. 

He had been involved with them from the time they had been trying to get record producers interested. The intensity of it all paid off when they were invited to do a spot on the Old Grey Whistle Test. Radio Luxembourg latched upon the single "Keep Yourself Alive" and played it regularly. 

Their first tour, supporting Mott the Hoople, got the full works. Local press was saturated with releases about this new band which was shortly coming to their town, elaborate displays were arranged at the front of the house on the night of the concert, local disc-jockeys were informed, and window displays were made in about 200 local record shops. 

"Trident and EMI committed themselves right from the start to this band, to make sure they had a PA which was better than other bands had and to make sure they had the right clothes. Some of their outfits cost £150 each," said Bagnall. "Spending money on a band isn't hype. It wasn't being flash or extravagant for the sake of building an image. It was making sure that everything else was as good as their music."

Not so far removed from the attitude towards Merlin, although it has been on a smaller scale in this case. 

The first Merlin tour, still underway, is rigorous. They are playing ballrooms and colleges all over the country on a lengthy round. 

An ambitious project for a new, unknown band, but it has already been successful in that it has launched them as a name people now know. A full-page advertisement was bought in the MM. That's the sort of treatment you might get if you're Bowie, or Ferry, or even Mick Ronson. But Merlin?

They have only been in existence in their present form since last May. 

They emerged as a result of discussions between Alan Love and Derek Chick about the possibility of forming a band with definite commercial appeal and a glamorous stage act. The idea reached fruition via a band called Madrigal, who had for some time been working the same circuit as Mud before "Crazy" broke for them. 

Madrigal disbanded but reformed with the same drummer and bass player, and Love as singer and Chick as manager. A couple more young musicians were found to join them and Chick started the usual hustling to get them going. 

In due course they came to the attention of Cookaway, and Roger Greenaway was hastily summoned to take a look at them. He had already seen Madrigal and when he saw the new model he immediately saw a big future for them. 

Greenaway says: "I'd been looking for a group of this type for three years - a young under-20s group who can present a good act. There's a lot more showmanship attached to bands now. I wanted an act with a slightly different approach. I was in New York producing the Drifters and I came back especially to hear them."

He quickly took them into a studio to see how they reacted there and among the tracks they recorded was "Let Me Put My Spell On You" which had been written by Greenaway in collaboration with Tony Macaulay. Like Queen, the best equipment and some fancy costumes were bought for them and the launching process was put into operation. 

My own experience of the Merlin project was a couple of weeks ago at Reading Top Rank - a bizarre mixture of precocious boppers, ageing teds, and stern-looking heavies. 

Posters and pictures of the group were plastered all over the place and by the time they eventually appeared late in the evening you had been informed quite thoroughly that Merlin had made a record called "Let Me Put My Spell On You."

Greenaway says of Love: "He's got star quality and he's a great charmer. The guitar player Jamie Moses has got a terrific potential too. I've worked with Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones but for me this guy at 18 is a better player than Jimmy Page was at the same age. He's the sort of player guys can follow - like Jet Harris - he had an incredible following with the guys."

He likens the Merlin launch to a military operation. The career of the group has been minutely planned since October. Accepting that it is almost impossible to get airplay for a new band on the BBC they decided the best way to break them was through a solid mass of live dates. 

The dates were booked, once again the best equipment, including a light show, was bought for them, and distinctive stage costumes especially designed. 

"By the time the tour has ended they will be a really tight band. We are getting support in the regions and you can break a record if you can get regional radio stations and disco plays. I believe this record is a hit and the signs are there. This is a ten-year job as far as I'm concerned."

Not that big money backing is any guarantee of success. 

One of the biggest projects of this type was the launching of young Darren Burn as Britain's answer to Donny Osmond. To their eternal credit the record-buying public didn't apparently want an answer to Mr Osmond and the campaign failed. 

The pop supermarket is not a new trend. The attractively packaged mass-produced record has been a part of the industry for a long time. The early releases of Love Affair, White Plains and Edison Lighthouse for example spring to mind. 

The whole thing is justified for the makers by the fact that they still become hits, thus proving there is a demand for made-to-order records. If the public is willing - or gullible enough - to pay 50p for music created in the boardroom. Well it must be OK.

The Merlin single is blatantly, unashamedly aimed at being a big hit - that seems to have been the one criterion in making it. It has all the ingredients and as the whole thing has been done with concentrated professionalism it will probably be a hit. 

Back to Roger Greenaway: "I don't want to present this as a Monkees type of image. It's not a manufactured group in any way - these guys have all been in other bands. 

"What Merlin are about is success - reaching people. It's so wrong for opposing people to criticise. If Chinn and Chapman go out to reach a particular market at the thing they do best, and they reach them, then they're doing their job. They've filled a gap.

"When this record happens it'll be called hype but we haven't hyped anybody. Not a vast amount of money has been spent on them. It would be silly to have a tour like this without some sort of advertising. All the money that has been spent on them so far has been towards getting them on the road. 

"It's expensive but it's minimal if you think of it as a along term thing."

It may be unfair to associate Queen with the pop supermarket. The group themselves were apprehensive about appearing on Top Of The Pops and the prospect of a hit record. 

They have always regarded themselves as an album band and were concerned about being connected with the chart groups. The fact remains that they have been on the receiving end of a giant campaign to create a best-selling single and album. 

The first album had sold far better than they had anticipated and there was great excitement around Trident and EMI as the second one was being made. Manager Jack Nelson came in virtually every day to play new tracks as they were completed and many discussions followed on which one should be released as a single. 

A special meeting was held between Bagnall, Fowler, marketing manager Paul Watts and a few others to discuss the approach to the release of "Queen 2."

"We talked about the possibility of boxing the album, and other various publicity and posters needed to produce an album we were convinced was going to be one of the biggest of the year. We set a high target for it. 'Seven Seas' isn't a housewives' record so with the daily shows like Edmonds, Blackburn and Hamilton, there's no chance of getting it played, we knew that from the start. But the weekend shows - Rosko, Henry, and D.L.T. - they all flipped over it. I took the records round personally because I felt so strongly about it."

The prime plug, however, is Top Of The Pops. If a record gets exposure on that there is a more than even chance that it will become a hit. He played it to the show's Robin Nash and a couple of days later Nash phoned him and asked him where Queen were. Later he rang back and invited Queen to do a session. 

The band weren't too sure whether they wanted to do it but eventually agreed although even then they didn't know until the last minute whether it would be used because they were half expecting a David Bowie film to arrive and take it's place. But in the end Queen were shown and "Seven Seas Of Rhye" moved dramatically from there. 

"A lot of people have invested an awful lot of time and money in this band but not as a hype," says Bagnall. "The only truth in the music business is that if a band isn't good, no amount of money will get them to make it."

Greenaway may be right that Merlin are one of the most exciting bands to merge since the Beatles. Fowler might be right that Queen are one of the best since the Who. But big business still remains one of the sadder aspects of the music industry today. 

----------

Huge thanks to the anon who brought this to my attention, since I’ve been looking for a copy of this article for ages now! 

Credit for the original scans goes to @Chrised90751298 over on twitter, though I stitched it back together into a single image for ease of posting over there. Open the image in a new tab to see the full-size version!

[sly-merlin]

killing me- 9

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : smut, drinking ,mention of weapons

words :: 7k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

                    “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​​ @suhweo​​ @exfolitae​ @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​

@kafenetwork​​​​ @neowritingsnet​​​​

K.M masterlist

K.M 8  next

note:: unedited! i’m a bit busy so i’ll try to edit it before sleep!

“yuta.”

“bake up.”

Yuta groaned at the foreign force shaking him repeatedly. He moved, crashing his face further into the sheets, swatting the alien hands away from himself.

“wake up you horse!” this time yuta heard the gurgling voice a bit more clearly. Someone was trying to disturb his sleep. Staying on his stomach and titling his half body to face the uninvited guest, he made out a face that matched johnnys. His face fell flat on the mattress again until he realised what or whom he has seen! He jolted upright, squatting, to face johnny.

“what are you doing here.” He mumbled with eyes still closed, stretching his arms on the sheets.

“it’s 1p.m!why you still sleeping dude?” johnny’s exasperated voice sounded too loud to yuta’s morning self. Or afternoon!

“It’s m-” a long yawn stretched his mouth into an oval shape, that he didn’t mind covering “its my house. I’ll do whatever I want but what are you even doing here?” he completed quietly.

“why are you still sleeping. You weren’t even drunk. Get up and tell me where is y/n!”

“so you are not here for me!” yuta pouted at johnny before throwing himself on the bed again, covering himself with sheets.

“what the fuck yuta! You are not a baby and tell me where is she? Did you even drive her back?” johnny asked sternly, removing his layer of protection.

“the only thing I can assure is that I wanna sleep more. And about your big fat crush! She certainly came back with me but she was crying so I won’t be surprised if she left already.” As soon as yuta’s almost inaudible words reached johnny’s ears, he jogged outside the room, checking the lock of your room. He sighed in relief at the secured lock. You didn’t leave and he was glad.

Johnny noticed your movements when you signed those papers. He was cursing at himself for not interfering but not like it’d have made any difference! The best he could do was to make sure you were fine at the end. Regardless of the fact that your phone was switched off, he was trying it continuously since yesterday night. Countless phone calls and messages but all were futile. His anger on taeyong was just fuelling by your ignorance.

Annoyingly, he fisted his hair before going for yuta’s room again.

“is she in university right now?” he asked yuta, who was looking like a dead body with an open mouth.

“bloody hell nakamoto! Wake up!” he shouted at him, this time the sheets were tossed on the floor.

“johnny babes, just track her. Don’t shout at me. I didn’t do anything this time.”

“you seriously ate your ethics yuta. I’m not needed there so I’m staying until she’s back.” Johnny declared, making his way outside on the couches.

“not needed my ass john suh. Ate my ethics! Says the one who’s seducing his own sister-in-law.” He only muttered before drifting back into paradise.

johnny just sat there in front of the t.v, mindlessly waiting for you, unknown guilt corroding his mind and heart.

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

Doyeon and mingi’s whispering felt like a hammer to your head. The incessant pounding was the result of some expensive alcohol and the stupid tears. If exams were not approaching in two weeks, you’d have stayed longer to sulk but their future was as important as yours and only one more week was left so you just sucked it up. Now you were eating the lunch brought by mingi while testing them for exam.

“civil laws suck.” Mingi exclaimed, hitting doyeon on the arm.

“no! your brain sucks.” Doyeon reiterated, poking his head with her pencil.

“wtf doyie! My brain is totally packed up to the brim. if you love it so much, then tell me the answer of question 6!” a smug smile made its way to mingi’s lips.

“what’s wrong with no.6 mingi?” you questioned, perplexed as there was no difficulty in the paper yet he was still looking here and there.

“umm. Non bis in idem! It’s not given anywhere. Right?” he hesitantly asked for he knew he was wrong, somewhere.

“what was the paper you wrote last time?” you tried not to unleash your anger on them, so you kept your voice as low as possible.

“double jeopardy!”

“and?”

“and?”

“what the heck mingi! Didn’t you mention the legal maxim of dj?”

“maybe not!”

“what kind of law student forgets about legal maxims duffus! Non bis in idem means double jeopardy.” You reprimanded him tiredly, not in the mood to put up much fight with him.

“sorry” he said, head hung low.

“don’t be mingi. I won’t gain anything from this. you need to study for yourself. now complete this before I give you a subjective test. Double prep is always good. Hurry up!”

A collective musical groan leaves them both, as they tend to their paper again, you drowning yourself in your own books.

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

Johnny and yuta were engrossed in a football match when you entered the hallway. Upon noticing you, johnny sighed in disbelief, before making his way to you.

“why is your phone switched off?” he fumed at you, hands on his waist as you poured water for yourself.

“It wasn’t charged so I left it here.” he knew he wasn’t doing his utmost in containing his irritation and your casual tone just took him off guard.

“you jus- you should have charged it dammit. I was fucking worried that something happened to you and what kind of girl travels without a phone these days!” his hand ruined his already messy hair as he ranted, the reason of which was beyond your understanding.

“it’s not that big of an issue besides I’m not clearly out of reach right!” you scoffed at him, pointing to your arm where the bracelet was hidden, under the sleeves. You didn’t mean to sound rude at his concern but his position was no better .You had every right to be querulous!

“i-you don’t understand. i just wanted a reply from you. it’s the least I deserve! Or don’t i?” his voice went down as his face lost the previous stern expression.

“I saw my phone only this morning and I was getting late so didn’t bother!” you shrugged your shoulders at him, making your way for the room.

“where are you going?” his voice rose a bit as he held onto your arm.

“in my room!” you replied, matter of factly.

“yeah! I thought you were going to greet your dear husband!” he joked, tilting his head towards the couches where yuta sat previously but he was not there anymore.

“I don’t wanna talk johnny!” you said curtly, jerking your hand away. But he was quicker as he pulled you into him, backing you into a counter.

“just leav-

“no tell me what’s the matter with you. what have I even done?” his voice was barely above a whisper, meant only to be heard by you. the rise and fall in his speech was already shaking your resolution.

“nothing! just turned a normal student into a deadly underground member. But it’s nothing big so yeah!” you replied, mock evident in your words. As you tried to leave again, his hands caught your waist as he picked you up, stationing you on the counter. He secured you against his body, restricting your movements. His hard orbs found yours as he hands tightened around your waist, making you gulp in the process. You stared back with same intensity, as if reading his next step. He lowered his front, demanding eyes never leaving yours,

“this is the first and last time I’ll be explaining myself. I don’t know a shit about why he did that. But those papers won’t be used against you. I won’t let that happen. Ever. I promise that with my life. Just have some faith in me” He whispered. Besides it being the precise validation you sought, suspicion couldn’t be helped!

“and why would you do that. Do you also have some hidden agen-

his lips felt soft as they collided with yours with urgent need to shut you up. You froze, so did he. The only movement in your control was of your hands that were tightly gripped to the counter. The silence in the air being tense, his lips stayed still and contrary to yours, his eyes were completely shut. Johnny’s light breaths fanned your upper lip as his chest heaved up and down. Neither of you made any effort to further it nor any to pull apart. Few more seconds passed and he finally detached himself, the bodies still connected. Your lashes fluttered as he palmed your left cheek, speaking in a low husky whisper.

“I promise. Just believe me and when I say taeyong won’t hurt you, I mean it. With all my heart. Can you trust me on this please?”

He was insisting yet pleading and you merely nodded, lowering your head. His delicate fingers brushed the line formed between your brows, smiling softly.

“you have nothing to worry about. with unparalleled record that we have! You ain’t getting rid of me anytime soon. Yeah?”

His breathy laugh tingled your insides and something like awe transformed his face as he felt the warmness of your cheeks under his hand.

“by any chance, are you flustered?” your face went blank at his shameless comment when he was the very reason for your current state.

“n-no!” you pushed him hard while standing straight. He staggered a bit, giggling uncontrollably at you.

“lying suits you y/n. just like your soulmate jaehyun.” You scrunched your nose at the mention.

“don’t talk about him! He’s so annoying, i’m gonna hang him upside down someday o-or turn him into a stew!”

“and feed him to yuta!” he completed. You gawked at him for a moment before joining him in his laughing session.

“there is food?” yuta entered the kitchen, dimming the commotion.

“not for you!” you snarked.

“we have food y/n?” it was johnny this time. you had almost forgot about the sandwiches that were now probably rotting in your bag. As realisation dawned, you hurriedly retrieved your bag from counter, opening the plastics from the sandwiches with a last hope to save them.

“do you know that you don’t have to be ramsey to stuff cucumber and tomatoes in a bread?” johnny shifted, taking the packages to heat them up.

“I was out of bread. So I just took the easy route.”

“lame excuse! Work better!”

“not everyone got time john!”

You strolled for your room, passing yuta in the way, totally missing the frown and cute smile on yuta and johnny respectively. Though yuta’s internals were screaming at him to open his shitty mouth, his main focus was on his empty stomach that was growling like never before.

“pass me one john!” he whisper yelled to johnny, purposely stretching the last word to satisfy himself.

“no! it’s her lunch or snack or whatever it is.” He warned, hiding the oven with his front.

“oh so you have turned a part time servant for her!” he spewed, crossing his arms against his chest.

“no dude. She’s actual-

he was about to tell yuta but he halted his train of words for he was not in the place to tell any of your secrets to anyone , especially yuta.

“she’s what? Your girlfriend?”

“I swear I’m gonna fry you someday!”

“whatever. Now give me a sandwich before she comes out. Hurry up!” yuta looked over johnny’s shoulders to count the stacked portion in the device.

“one, two-

“three. They are just three yuta! Fuck off.” Johnny knew throwing abuses wouldn’t work but hitting him with his shoulder wasn’t either! He glanced at yuta and he seriously looked miserable. Hungry miserable!

“come on-

“are you done john?” your voice echoed from the hall as you approached wearing your famous tank top and cotton shorts. Yuta cursed under his breath, opening the fridge to get himself something.

“here” johnny handed you the plate. He hit yuta’s arm to grab his attention who was practically trying to sit in the fridge.

“renjun and jaemin are cooking their special ramyeon. We’ll eat there, come on!”

“huh!” he excitedly passed johnny to pick his things up.

With yuta out of sight, his focus shifted again on you. “don’t you get sick after eating takeouts?”

“yup I do! My gut is not the healthiest one in the world. But I’ve fewer options and I do check their health certificates so no need to worry.” Your humorous reply didn’t get more than a shit face from him. He leaned again causing you to take a step backwards.

“your hair!” He pointed and you rolled your eyes like you’d see what was happening up there.

“what my hair?”

“umm. Nothing kiddo!” he said before ruffling your hair.

“aah. I’m not a kid johnny!” you shouted at him though he was just standing by your shoulder.

“oh yes you are!” he pouted dramatically and ran but not forgetting to throw a flying kiss your way. “charge your phone, I’ll call again.”

“eww!” you snapped your head to catch yuta standing behind, making faces at johnny who was standing at the front of hallway.

“oh come on you shit.”

At johnny’s comment , yuta just followed and you totally missed the way he scoffed at both of you.

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

You were truly jumbled by johnny’s actions, innocent yet calculated. You had maintained your calm but he was aware that you were not blind towards his growing attraction. why didn’t you push him away! What was he aiming at? Questions, questions! From the very first day, all you have are questions with no concrete answers.

But Johnny was not the sole occupier of your worries, taeyong held a significant part of it. If what johnny said was true, if his intentions were not so malafide then he’d easily have skipped it. Despite johnny’s assurance, you couldn’t afford trusting him anymore. Not like you could protect yourself from losing anything but your walls would always be enclosed for him.

Your wandering mind was pulled back into reality by a message from your classmate. The date of thesis topic submission was moved to an earlier one, a week earlier to be specific. In reality, you were all starting it a few months earlier just so the pressure could be minimised but it instead felt like a strategy for your doom. You all were supposed to submit the topic and a little introduction even before the qualification exam! And obviously you were behind the so called ahead-of-time schedule. You could have wrote a ph.d worthy book on mafia and their ploys but sadly criminal law was not the option available for it. So that’s how you ended up in the small balcony, sitting on the cold floor, enjoying the evening cool breeze. Search results on both naver and google had varied from “50 best topics of dissertation in international law” to “how to know what is my area of interest?” but every try had gone to a blank page.

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

By late evening, you got bored of sitting in the balcony and room, so you decided to study with a change of setting and the only place available apart from your room was the hall. After computing various possibilities, you dragged the single seater towards the hall windows and angling the book on the window still, a much comfy makeshift study space was ready. With the newfound determination to complete the task at hand, your eyes browsed every means of information to stumble upon anything you missed earlier, ignoring the blue skies switching to the darker ones.

***********

Yuta noticed the way he was experiencing more fatigue as the days passed by. He never trained this much until he was suspended. He looked forward for it to end so he could feel the same thrill again but two weeks wouldn’t just pass in a blink! He claimed the basement as his new home trying to ignore the activities transpiring upstairs. The desire to stay with his dear roommate jungwoo was irrepressible but his ego didn’t allow him to give in so easily. He wanted to show his anger to taeyong and that was the only reason he found himself coming back to the new home more often.

He languidly passed the kitchen to use the washroom. Only when he was about to enter his room, he noticed the lightening in the kitchen and living room. He groaned at the thought of your imprudent habit of multiplying the electricity bill which eventually he had to pay! Or maybe you were just trying to instigate him! When he was about to put out the lights, he spotted the sofa and a pair of legs perched on the widow still. He took light steps to reach your sleeping figure and suddenly he felt his annoyance melting into astonishment. Your face was covered with the open, visibly heavy hardcover book whilst your half body was on the seat and half in the air with feet placed on the window still for balance that was clearly very very comfortable place for napping at midnight. unconsciously, his hand extended for the book and as he picked it up, you stirred. Panic took over him as he lost the hold leading the book to fell on your face instead. He ducked, cupping his mouth with both hands to stifle the laugh that was about to escape. Luckily you were dead to the world. Hearing no movement, he crawled for the room , getting up only when he was at a safe distance. Without wasting another moment, he did what he was there for in the first place and went to sleep, with a thumping heart that was probably due to the initial dread he felt or that’s what he thought!

**********

The bus stop being far away, you began the long trudge for neos’ house. Taeil had requested your presence two days ago , but being too busy with studying on the first few days of the week ,it was delayed. You’d have never accepted the offer if it was taeyong but taeil suggested you to take your time even though what he wanted to ask or said was important. His readiness to prioritise your convenience warmed you and it were the emotions of the moment that you agreed to him. And now the heat was burning your exposed legs and you were cursing his sweet tongue.

You knocked on the opened door to announce your arrival despite the fact that the main door had automatically detected you to lead you in. you stood there like a statue, moving your neck like an owl, waiting for an invitation but nothing. you banged it again only to hear someone’s cursing from inside.

“who the fuck knocks when it’s op-

A screeched scream met your ears as a man came into your sight. He abruptly started bowing, apologising profusely.

“I’m so sorry noona. I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry. This won’t happen again. I-

“hey, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even hear you in the first place.” You lied, saving him the mortification.

“can I come in?”

“this is your own place. You don’t need to ask or knock noona!” you entered as he gestured you to sit.

“can you call tae-

But before you could say it, he ran inside. You didn’t know or remembered his name but his face looked familiar. Maybe he was sicheng or hyuck or someone else cause you were sure you had met hyuck before!

“I was making coffee for taeil hyung. But he’s late so it’s yours now!” he exclaimed with his eye smile. it was cute and friendly.

“what was your name again?” you asked smiling back at him, noticing the little red on his neck.

“jeno.” He immediately settled on a seat, his focus fixed on you. “I’m making snacks. Do you wanna join?”

You chuckled at his innocent suggestion, “If you meant joining for eating, then I’m all in but if you want my help in actual process, then you’d die hungry today!”

“I’m aware of that but you are never late to learn anything right!”

“wow. Your enthusiasm is admirable but I don’t wanna burn your kitchen.” Your eyes were blessed with another series of his eye smile. it was contagious.

“you are here!” you saw taeil sprinting towards you.

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in the office.” His words came out breathy as he was still panting from the jog.

“no worries but I don’t have much time. I have to study for exams.”

“yes, studying is important.” He nodded before requesting jeno to get him the coffee and water, to which the boy grumpily complied.

“why the fuck is air con off! I’m gonna roast!” He whined and got up again to close the front door.

“now. I’ve two things to tell you or rather order you. you wanna eat first orr-

“no I’m fine really. Just tell me what taeyong ordered this time!” you had no doubt that it was taeyong’s doing.

“forget about that shit. Here, veto power is mine. JENO, STOP MELTING THE ICE AND GIVE ME SOME WATER!” he screamed at jeno who came out hurriedly with both water and coffee.

Jeno took a seat beside taeil but his one glare made him go back. Sighing in relief after quenching his thirst, he continued in a polite voice. “yuta told me about the card. Why didn’t you take it?”

“because I don’t want his money. I’m good with what I have. Besides every transaction related to him would lead me in trouble so why take the risk!” you sounded harsher than you intended but it wasn’t in your control anymore. Mention yuta and you’ll obviously bite!

“the account is already open. Yuta’s gonna transfer same amount of money every month so why don’t spend his money or better, give him a heart attack by paying everything with the card. He’s gonna pay and I promise, he has no say in this so he won’t even scold you!” he sounded quite cheerful which clearly indicated that none of them understood your language.

“no thanks taeil. staying away from his shadow is much safer.”

“shadow runs with the man y/n.”

“the man himself avoids me like a plague so it’s a win win here.”

“what you see is present. Nobody can ever escape a tomorrow! You are evading it today, but one day you’ll eventually face it.”

“I don’t speak quotes!”

“simple! You both collide only to cause harm to each other. For how long do you think this can work. You’ll get tired and I suppose he’d too. when you’ll stop to rest, you’d find him there but at that time you won’t have enough energy to fight off anymore. Placebo is deadly y/n!”

You absorbed his vague statement full of philosophy but your mind couldn’t harmonise with what he meant!

“honestly, I stopped hearing the moment you mentioned yuta so can we continue!”

“yeah sure. Take the card, keep it for emergencies and I’m not taking no anymore. You aren’t hearing me so I’m doing the same. and secondly, can you defend yourself?”

“defend from who exactly?”

“drunken bastards, thieves, goons or whoever comes at you with a knife!” you were puzzled at the sudden mention.

“my personality repels violence and I’ve two strong best friends.” You declared the obvious. The only drunkards you met were outside the clubs and you never went alone so the thought never crossed your mind.

“first is a lie and second is insignificant here. I need you to learn some basics so you won’t need anyone else or just to hold until help comes.”

“what the! Are you actually recruiting me or something? I don’t wanna be a party in your gang wars.” you announced, now clearly understanding what he meant in the first place.

“I’m not telling you to fight with us. You don’t have an ounce of brain do you? it’s for your own safety.”

“safety from what? I live in a rich and peaceful neighbourhood, my dear husband is a corporate of first class, I myself never even go for a simple stroll in a park then who would I even fight?”

“here ,we all are used to the danger that we face everyday. Each and every man you see here is able to dodge anything that comes their way but you.are.not. Just because they are acting like school kids with no care in life doesn’t mean they are any safer. Jeno was making coffee a few minutes ago but after dinner, he’d be going for protection fee collection with others. If shit goes down, you might not even see him again but we won’t let that happen in the first place. It’s not same with you though. god forbid if you attract the attention of wrong people for all the reasons you stated, then how are we going to help you. even if you press the bracelet , it’d take us some time to get there. till then what would you do? You can’t even probably run for more than a mile! can you?”

You just shook your head at him, too baffled to form any words.

“do you devote any time to exercise?”

“I walk enough I guess and some planks when my stomach is out too much.”

“you are no better than these boys seriously.” She rolled his eyes at your statement.

“but despite the exercise or whatever, my strength is nothing against jeno or johhny. I’ll never b-

“if you fail in strength , atleast you can be swift. Or better you can learn to handle a gun or a knife. When do you get free?”

So, that’s why he called you!

“I don’t have a minute to spare for the next 15 days. Prep and exams are more important for me.”

“no worries. We can start after that. But don’t remove the bracelet band under any condition. Some rival mafia has hired a contract killer for you. so run fast if you notice someone following you, press it and we’ll be there. till then just hang on.” Nervousness got hold of your senses as you heard his warning.

“you are fucking kidding right! was I being followe-

“yes, I’m kidding.” he chuckled dryly. “You should see your face. If it was outside the parameters of the room, you’d have passed out already. Panic only leads to death and I don’t want you to die. so do it just for my peace of mind.” You released the breath you were holding till now, feeling relaxed again.

You just nodded at his words. He sounded like some motivational speaker luring you into his lifetime guarantee program but you knew he was right somewhere. you couldn’t depend on the boys to save you from creeps for whole life.

he was good at reading minds, you thought but despite that you wanted to pour the coffee on his head for the heart attack he’d gave you a minute ago.

“it’s risk free and beneficial. What you say?”

“ok. but I don’t wanna spar with the 6 feet ones. I’ll rather learn from you.” it was your turn to cackle!

“we’ll see about that.” He rolled his eyes to the back at your obvious attempt of poking fun at his short stature

JENO, I DIDN’T ASK FOR A COLD COFFEE. MAKE ME A NEW ONE.”

********

Meeting with taeil had benefitted you in every way. The most useful presently was the topic of the thesis he randomly suggested you. “ effect and consequences of veto power in relation to international peace and human rights”.  even mr. kwang, your thesis mentor liked it as it was almost near original. Now you were just left with exams that were just a week away. Fortune was playing in your favour as yuta had been missing from past few days that saved you some extra energy and headaches that you got with his repulsive energy towards you. then there was your newfound love for the sofa that you had permanently dragged by the windows. It helped a lot in relaxing and studying and you ended up sleeping on it, nearly getting used to the cramped neck.

Unbeknownst to you, he did come back, daily. But you were just so occupied that you never noticed the slight shuffling in the midnight. it went on for days until you woke up with a blanket covering your bare legs, evidently not yours!

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

How to start the finals? By getting wasted? No. certainly not. But birthdays are important, sometimes more than those stupid grades!

The venue for yeong’s b’day celebration was a night club, as expected from yugyeom! He need no reason to get drunk and when his s/o was herself cutting the chains, then it’s the finest deal one could get!

Loaded with university students, the party at the first floor was thundering. The hoots and roars of slightly drunk adults became deafening as soon as the cake was consumed.

“why your classmates are so fucking loud” you screamed in yeong’s ear. You both were seated at the corner on leather seats, drinking away the reality.

“with your dolphin voice, you are in no place to judge them bitch!”

“lets blame this on your drunkard mumbo jumbo!” she jumped in joy at your lame attempt, alcohol speaking out for you.

“btw where’s your boyfriend?” she questioned leaning into your ear.

“who?” you wondered who she was referring to.

“wonwoo! Who else dumbo. His whole army was invited by gyeom but I haven’t seen him yet!”

You just shrugged in response, not wanting to face him. The farther, the better. His possessiveness only elevated your fears. Now that you were bound on taeyong’s mercy, wonwoo would be calling for a danger by being with you, especially when you were incapable of returning his love.

But fate had some cruel plans stored for you. when you were ordering another drink, strong hands gripped your waist. Though beyond tipsy, the moment you touched the protective hold, you knew it was wonwoo. It was always him afterall.

“you could burn me while wearing white and I’d say thank you baby” He whispered, nibbling on your ear, shivers running down to your bare thighs at the sudden action. everyone knew how much you loved white and that’s why yeong had designed this short white satin dress which just screamed “you” and barely left anything to the imagination of the viewer. “and nothing turns me on more than your covered arms.” He continued as his fingers slowly traced the collarbones down to the cleavage, your drunken self melting into his chest. His hands worked swiftly and he guided you into a secluded part to drown the excessive noise. Your back hit a wall as his nose brushed against yours, his slender fingers siding your sling bag to hook at your hips. He bent into your lips, love filled kisses slowly smoothening into hungry ones. The taste he left on yours was of the infamous vodka that he sure had consumed in plenty of amount ,leading him to you. the pledge to keep yourself away from him broke down in figures as he rolled his hips into yours, lips syncing with the movements. His grip bruised your body, hunger lowering from lips to the bare neck. Throwing your head back, savouring his touch, you clutched his shoulders for some control. Scheduled moans became more filthy as his one hand gripped your thigh in a try to hike up your dress. He didn’t do much work as it was already climbing up your hips. A Single move and his fingers graced against your core, tingling sensation burning your whole body. The open mouthed kisses left marks on your cleavage and neck as he fingers fucked you mercilessly.

“I missed you so much baby.”  His wavering yet soft tone met your ears but everything seemed hazy as he drove in and out of you. you felt euphoria in your stomach hitting you once again as he rambled on. “ don’t ever leave me again. you are my only lu-luxury. Don’t you ever dare snatch away the only hope I have! I love you. i fucking love you!” his sped up his actions under the dress but before he could provide you the final pleasure, you came back to the reality he  had divorced you from. you didn’t love him and never would. To his disbelief, you separated yourself from his body, him staggering back with the push.

“wha-

“I don’t love you woo. This-

Your hands filled the space between you two.

“this was never about love. We need to stop. I don’t love you woo. And don’t expect anything better from me. We are over. This is over.”

Your drunken slurs made evident that though you were loaded, the senses were still intact somehow.

“no y/n. don’t do this to me. I’ll wait more if you want. A lifetime if you say. But don’t say you are done with us. I’d die without you.” his words rang like a bell as you attempted to corrected the panties and dress, waving slightly.

You jumped away from him as his words got registered in your head. Ignoring him completely, you turned to enter the blast again but his strong hold on your arm stopped you. you squirmed under him, requesting him to let you go but his confession never halted.

“let go of her wonwoo!” you circled to see jungkook standing there , anger clear in his eyes. “I am not gonna repeat.” Jungkook was indeed dangerous when he was boiling.

“why was he enough and NOT ME!” you shuddered at the raise in his voice as he jerked you away. Timely, jungkook caught you and instructed you to go inside to wait for him. And you complied but not completely.

you were hot, bothered, angry and helpless at the same time so you did what you felt like. It felt like eternity when jungkook found you gulping some shorts in the bar. His brain went haywire for he realised you would’ve reached your peak by now. He cautiously approached you, checking the level of warmness on your cheeks. You were gone and so was he.

“what did you do with woo?” you asked him in the delightfully lovable voice that he found nothing but scary. You acting cute meant it was end of the life for anyone who would witness it. He had tried to record you a few times before in the said condition but it never ended up well with the screen of his phone meeting your wrath everytime. He helplessly dragged you from the bar towards the parking area, ignoring your initial question and the urge to scold you for the whole ruckus with wonwoo.

“I’ll drop you home cutie” he exclaimed, checking the level.

“I’m no cutie! And what about minjunie. And I don’t wanna go with you. I wanna be alone.” He giggled as you pouted at him, a rare sight to behold.

“yeah yeah I know you wanna be alone and blah blah but its past 11 already -

“soooooo. The protocol shall be followed despite the severi-

“shut up! You are not in a class dude. N hurry up, I’ve to pick minjun’s drunk ass as well!”

The discontent in his tone was apparent while he showed you the way forward. continuously wrestling against his strong hands, he finally gave up when you almost tripped over nothing.  

“stop annoying me y/n!”

“am i?” you pouted at him. “I don’t wanna go with you. don’t you understand!” he rubbed his temples in desperation.

“fine I’ll call someone else. But you can’t go alone.” But as he was fishing out his phone, you were gone.

After five minutes he spotted you outside, waving for a taxi.

“why are you so difficult?” his words fell to deaf ears. Watching you continue your frolics, he thought about giving up as a scheme formed in his head. Stopping a taxi , he ushered you in the back seat, moving to talk to the driver instead.

“no you aren’t coming!” you cried, showing your head out of the window. He grabbed his hair in annoyance, narrowing his eyes at you, “I’m not coming with you my mother! Let me give the address to the driver or else you’ll end up nowhere.” He pleaded, clasping his hands, bowing at you.

You giggled pleasantly at his gesture, hands flailing at him. “I don’t live in campus. I’ll give you the address. Wait!” after searching for your phone, you showed him the address saved in the notes app. That indeed surprised him for he wasn’t aware that you changed but decided against asking you. if it was not your new address, it could be trusted enough to be safer as it was saved under “my home”. Commanding the driver with an extreme firmness, he went away. Even in the drunk state, you were sure to some extent that maybe car was not moving.

“let’s go uncle!”

“your friend told me to wait.” you threw your head back realising that kook was upto something. A loud horn heightened your senses as the car moved.

Asshole, you muttered, grasping that he was clearly following you.

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

“bop bop!” an eternity has passed for you in a futile try of remembering the password. The digits were changing their positions, as you regarded them.

“bop bop!” you tried again, mumbling to yourself, not knowing that you were not even banging the door in the first place. Standing still in your intoxicated state, arms crossed, the daggers you were throwing at the door would give any passer by a food to laugh but unluckily, there was noone there.

Bobbing your head from side to side, you started walking down the corridor, coming back at the your own door every few minutes. Curiously you pressed random button near the keypad. It was a bell, that you didn’t noticed earlier.

“wh- noona! You are here!” it was jaemin. He hugged you tightly before letting you in.

“duh! I’m waiting from last ten years but you won’t open.” Another giggle let jaemin known that you were in inebriated state.

“you are drunk.” He whispered.

“shhhh” you said , throwing your heels.

With jelly legs, you wobbled to the kitchen, catching attention of each and every presence in the living room and there were many of them.

“oh hiya! Home tweet home.” You chanted, hands waving like the wipers of a car. Hyuck and mark greeted you while jaehyun just sat down again, shaking his head in disbelief. However yuta was stunned and hooked to his place. He saw you navigating to the fridge, dropping the bottle, picking it up again, gulping it down, jaemin snatching it from you, apparently for you own benefit.

Jaemin guided you for your room before you got distracted by yuta’s figure staring you down.

“moshi moshi. Don’t you have any Japanese to throw at me today.” Yuta heard jaemin and others snickering as you slurred, walking unsteadily to him. He simply rolled his eyes, waiting for you to complete your attack.

“oh hi hyuck. I heard you don’t change your underwear for years. Go and take a bath right now. Asap” the liquid jaehyun was drinking, came out as a spray from his nose at the insult. Everyone was laughing at your antics except yuta. He scanned you up and down, eyes fixating on the fresh hickies on your visible neck.

“and you moshi moshi. You a-act like an angry young man all the damn ti-time,” hiccups started in between, “ but answer me with your half braincell- what kind of criminal you are! Atleast hid your face while shooting people dude.”

Yuta’s jaw cletched at your use of words, tension rising in the room. His neutral face changed into an angry one as you went on and on, all while poking his chest with your forefinger. “and that knife of yours! What are you? a street goon who hires little kids to scan cctvs for the-

And your body lunged forward, head resting where your finger was, passed out. Yuta’s red eyes didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Anger radiated his body as he removed hands from his pockets to push you off but mark scooped your sleeping figure in his arms, signalling jaemin to open the door. After finding the key in your purse, mark laid you on the bed, rolling you to the side as jaemin placed a pillow behind to save you from falling.

They arrived in the hall only to find yuta already waiting for them.

“what was the need to baby her? She’s an adult and got drunk at her own expense. Didn’-

“so what hyung? Why are you making it a big deal!” mark replied.

“she is the one who makes everything a big deal. Didn’t you just hear how she was just trash talking about you all! She never fucking leaves a chance to spit at my face that I am a criminal –

“that’s what we are! We are damn criminals and she doesn’t know anything about us”

“but she says it like we are not even humans-

“I don’t understand why are you always throwing her under the bus hyung! Drunk people speak shit and she was totally hammered. Just let it go! Your punishment is over after two days, don’t spoil your mood over something so silly.”

“you can’t ord-

“yes I can and will order you because I agree with her. You do own just a half braincell that is not letting you think properly. Now don’t you dare mention all this to her in the morning.” Several pairs of eyes wandered between yuta and mark as the air became more pressured.

“so you do admit she is in wrong here hmm”

“she was just acting with her pure conscious. She saw a man dying and went to police. Tae hyung just made sure that she isn’t leaving anytime soon. She is trapped with criminals. What else do you expect from her? I know exactly what you want.” Suddenly mark’s eyes softened as he went on.  “You are craving empathy hyung. This is what I have seen in your eyes from the first day. You want everyone to realise that you are also wounded. You don’t despise her in actual but just the sympathy that wasn’t given to you in the first place. Stop acting like a stone. While blaming her you shouldn’t be forgetting that it was supposed to be me. You filled my spot as the killer. It started with me-

“no ma-

“it all started coz I was dammit feeling too sleepy to finish that contract killer. It was supposed to be a sniper attack but you had to go instead-

“I forgot my cover mark. How are you the cause when the problem was my own stupidity in the first place!” yuta shouted, tense silence following. Mark smiled a bit at him before continuing.

“then why do you hate her so much. shouldn’t you be hating me for sending you there or yourself for being careless. We should be compromising, not her. Just stop fighting with running water.”

He quietly said before picking up his jacket, going out. Everyone took that as a cue for leaving as well. Nobody uttered anything. The house was empty but mark’s words echoed in the space for entirety of the night, squeezing yuta into the reality he wasn’t ready to face.

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

Your head felt like it was carrying all the weight of the world. Light harmed your vision, footsteps made you dizzy as you treaded for the door. Kitchen was suddenly too far away, everything looking too large for the squinted eyes. Water and sugar! two things circled in your head like a mantra, only until you felt a sharp pain in your waist. You slightly cursed the counter for bumping into you and stepped further to get water. the water soothed only your throat, stomach still craved sugar so you placed the large bottle on the counter, returning to open the fridge.

Some shuffling around the corner woke up yuta, who was resting on the couch. It hasn’t been more than few hours that he finally let himself immersed into the dreamland. His night and half of the day was spent in unearthing the deep hole that mark had thrown him into. He got annoyed at himself for failing in reaching a conclusion that would led to mark being wrong and it was the result of this constant thought provoking activity that he was having a persistent headache. He grumbled at the stiff neck as he got up. 13:03. Another sound came from somewhere, stimulating his body to check. With droopy eyes, he noticed you. actually half of you as the other half was searching for gold in the fridge. The hiked up dress was enough to give a free show of your bare legs without any strain. The thought of you eating his food wiped up all the drowsiness, making him go to kitchen.

“its not your bedroom. Close it.” He criticised, yawns escaping simultaneously. You didn’t move for his voice didn’t reach you in the first place. He tsked at your lack of senses as he neared you. but as soon as your figure got larger, his body met the floor brutally, several groans of pain leaving him. You turned around at the noise to see yuta struggling as his knee hit the polished hardwood. His other hand went to the counter for some support but it slipped causing his elbow to hit the cabinet handle more violently. His shout of anguish striked through your sensitive ears, making you swear in irritation.

Your eyes slowly traced the liquid under his body to the top of the counter. the water bottle. It was tilted and empty by the time you noticed and the water was what made yuta slipped in first place.

“fuck it!” he growled, discomfort contorting his features.

Slowly he moved himself to the other side, bruised elbow secured in his hand, grunts exiting him. You knew you were fucked up as soon as his cold eyes fell upon you.

“I guess it’s my time to call taeyong.”

[swiss-cheeze]

Scars || Spencer Reid

Requested: YES/NO

Gender: they/them. None.

Description: based on/set in 10x1 when the team where comparing scars, except Spencer wins.

Warnings: normal CM talk, everything Spencer has been through up to season 10 (possibly missed some but eh).

———

Callahan and J.J. sat in front of each other as the plane murmured in the sky, comparing scars; you eavesdropping in on the conversation of course as Derek came over to sit with them.

“What’re we doing, we talking battle scars?” Derek asked as he slid into the seat with his coffee on the table, “oh yeah, i probably hold the record,” you couldn't help but snort softly; thankfully going under the radar to the people across the aisle from you, “so what’re the rules, i mean are we just talking stitch count or are we going full on, like broken ribs, pistol whips, concussion?” Derek asked, running with the gag.

“You weren't kidding,” Callahan said with a grin to J.J., you grinned at this as you set down the book you were reading and made your way in the final empty seat next to J.J.

“Told you,” J.J. said with a shrug as she smiled at you as a hello.

“Well why don't we start with the most recent huh?” Derek asked, you stayed silent for the most part, “guy hit me in the arm, same guy hit me twice in the chest but i was wearing my vest so he left me some welts and; see these idiots think they can beat me but they cant so, they at least try to hurt me you know?” Derek set the scene as he thought of the next memory of injuries; he looked to you and raised his eyebrows with a grin, “oh! Lets not forget when i got blindsided,” J.J. let out an appreciative ‘mm’, “and thrown out the window,” Derek finished, you did smile at this as you had only been told the story, you hadn't actually witnessed it thus far. Derek turned to Callahan with a grin and nudged the woman's recently shot arm, “welcome to the team callahan,” Derek said as Callahan let out a little ‘ow’; this was now your time to shine.

“May i?” you asked the group respectively, Derek and J.J. nodded for you to continue as Callahan looked at you.

“You? Scars?” she asked jokingly with a grin, you couldn't help but smile.

“No no, unfortunately not mine; Spencers,” you said with a grin as you pointed behind you, the three people around you cocked an eyebrow.

“Go for it (Y/n),” Spencer's voice came out from behind yourself and J.J., you grinned as Derek and J.J. looked to you confused; even they didn't know what was coming. You cleared your throat as a joke and straightened your posture.

“May i present test subject number 323; FBI Supervisary Special agent Doctor Spencer Walter Reid,” you grinned as everyone chuckled at the long title, the snort behind you from the man in question also gave it away as you held up your hand and begun counting on your fingers, “our darling genius here has been abducted,” one finger, “tortured from that abduction for two days,” another finger, “sadly addicted to the drug he had been administered during said torture, though now clean for seven, almost eight years,” another finger, “next i believe he was infected with a worse and more toxic strain of anthrax that kills the carrier within a few hours i do believe,” another finger, “shot in the knee resulting in crutches for three months, a cane for two and finally being able to walk without assistance after 4 surgeries,” another finger, “shot in the arm; two minutes later, if that, his...uh” you paused, unsure if this was something you should share, however the hand that gripped your unused hand made your head turn, Spencer was crouching in the middle of the plane aisle, his eyes saying it was okay; you didnt even realise he had moved, but you continued, “shot in the arm and then less than two minutes later his first girlfriend was shot and unfortunately killed in front of him,” another finger, “has been in a helicopter accident,” another finger, “and last but unfortunately i have a feeling it is not the least; recently shot in the neck just barely missing his carotid artery and having to go in for life saving surgery,” you put up the final eighth finger with a knowing grin; Derek and J.J. where grinning while Callahan had her mouth open like a fly catcher.

“Oh and don't forget,” Spencer interjected, “momentarially died in the shed i was being tortured in before being resuscitated but my captor,” Spencer said to Callahan, the girl sighed and blew out some air with wide eyes.

“Jesus...im…” she was lost for words, you grinned.

“And let's not forget!” you drummed on the table, “putting up with me!” you grinned as you put your hands out and did some wonderful jazz hands. Derek scoffed with a grin, J.J. smiled widely and Callahan looked slightly confused.

“You?” she pointed between you and Reid, Reid now sitting on the empty couch on the opposite side of the aisle, “you two are-?” you cocked an eyebrow as Spencer smiled happily at the realisation.

“Five years,” Spencer said softly, he looked at you with such love and adoration in his eyes; everyone could tell and easily see how in love the two of you are, almost like the honeymoon phase, granted it took a little while for the two of you to get to that comfortable phase (only around six months). Spencer always changed when he saw you; if he was having a conversation he cut it off when you came into his line of sight, his rambling increased whenever you were around, he involuntarily moves to your side, to be close to you or to hold you hand, his pupils dilate, his smile grows wider. God, anyone who was a profiler, even a simple civilian, could see, read and tell how in love with you Spencer was, and you him of course.

“And you’re not married,” Callahan said more as a statement, “I don't see rings, i don't see indents of rings and i don't see tan lines of rings,” the woman said with a grin, Derek smiled as he and J.J. shared a knowing look. You and Spencer simultaneously reached under the collar of your shirts, both of you bringing out silver chain necklaces with beautiful rings on the end.

“Spence has my ring and, well,” you motioned to the ring you wore around your neck, “i wear his,” you smiled as the two of you tucked your rings back under your shirts, “i don't personally like wearing rings, they tug on clothes and get caught and rip things so we both agreed to wear them as necklaces instead and-” Spencer cut you off, not being able to keep the large grin off his face as he talked.

“And instead of us wearing our own we wear each others as a remembrance of our vows, a remembrance of any fights, disagreements or arguments we have and because, as (Y/n) put it,” Spencer brought his fingers into the air as quotation marks, “‘it just feels right’” you grinned at that.

“Remembrance of any fights?” Callahan asked, she seemed so interested.

“If we have any fights or whatnot and need time alone both of us fiddle with the necklace,” as a demonstration you pulled it out and started moving the ring on the chain, “it reminds both of us that we have each other and that no argument can come between the two of us; if it really does get that bad then it's also a remembrance that we would have to take off the necklace to give back to the respective owner and obviously if we can't take off that necklace then we cant let an argument get in our way,” you grinned as you finally took a breath and looked to Spencer teary eyed; of course this got you emotional over this, Spencer squeezed your hand in reassurance.

“You two definitely have something special,” Callahan said with a smile, you nodded not being able to form words as you squeezed Spencer's hand again before giving a nod and moving to sit with Spencer.

“Read to me?” you asked Spencer quietly as Spencer leant his back against the wall, you cuddled between his legs.

“What would you like me to read my love?” Spencer questioned quietly as he kissed the top of your head before threading his fingers through it. You thought for a minute.

“Quantum physics?” you joked causing Spencer to chuckle, “no i joke, um,” you thought for another minute, “how about Arabian Nights?” you questioned, “Aladdin specifically!” you exclaimed, Spencer had berated you on how One Thousand And One Nights (or Arabian Nights) is actually a collection of small tales including Aladdin, SinBad and Ali Baba. Spencer grinned as you made your specific request and kissed your head.

“Get comfortable,” Spencer said with a smile as the two of you moved slightly before he started, “once upon a time in China, there lived a boy called Aladdin”

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

I don't want to linger any longer

DCU Gen Rating: G Words: 7,523  AO3

In upstate New York there's a very lush, very expensive summer camp that caters to the children of the rich and famous. Bruce and Oliver happen to be those children. And they're less than thrilled to be at this camp.

Alfred was leery of the summer camp. Bruce went to public school partially because of Martha's pointed remarks regarding democracy and public education, partly because of her pointed remarks regarding Thomas's own time at boarding schools and prep schools surrounded by equally rich and entitled boys. Alfred never said anything at the time, it wasn't his place, and would never say anything now but, he whole heartedly believed both. Especially after his own childhood in private schools, even if the times and the British and American systems were very different. Regardless, Bruce was remaining in public school with all the trials it entailed. Including the socializing problem.

He'd always been a quiet, almost shy child but after Martha and Thomas died he retreated far beyond. Even friends from before like Miss Zatara took coaxing and occasionally trickery to get him to interact with. At thirteen and with the beginnings of acne and voice cracks the behavior was partially to be expected. The newfound interest in The Clash was too. Still, Alfred felt strongly that the boy should have the opportunity to at least try and make some friends. So when he overheard some of the women mentioning the summer camp during one of the Wayne Foundation luncheons Bruce insisted they attend "for appearances" (and Alfred was a little worried about the thought process behind that as well but well, one thing at a time) he had to break his normal rule and butt in.

"Pardon me, but what summer camp might this be?" He tried to be as nonobtrusive as possible, it still raised some eyebrows from the women with their pearls and perfect red lipsticks. Their clothes were so immaculate that while he knew they all had nannies, looking at them you never would've even known they had children. Alfred no longer owned a single shirt that wasn't stained somewhere by something, he just hid them well.

The blonde in the most putrid shade of chartreuse he's ever seen recovered first. "Oh! Camp Open Woods. It's in upper state New York, very exclusive but so worth it." Mimi flicked her wrist and half rolled her eyes as though to indicate sending the children she never saw there was the best parenting tip she'd ever taken. Mitzie shifted her hair before continuing, "They've got hiking and horses and like there's a lake." The other women all hum and coo their agreement at how pretty it is, Muffy silenced them with a brow, she was the one who started the story after all. "The kiddos just love it there. Go for a month a time. Would be there year round if they could!" They all nod enthusiastically in agreement.

"Sounds lovely." Which isn't strictly incorrect, but Alfred sincerely doubts these women would actually know whether their children enjoyed the camp or not. "I'll have to look into it, thank you," Alfred excuses himself. He will look into it.

The camp itself does seem the definition of picturesque, with acres of land and woods as well as the lake. The cabins looked to be clean and well maintained. The extensive list of activities alone made Alfred want to go. He reached out to the nannies he'd made friends with over the years, trying to gauge how any of the kids who attended regularly really felt. And the reviews were glowing.

Alfred made an executive decision, the fresh air would be good for Bruce, and called to secure a place for June. Just one month, to test it. Bruce might not be pleased at not having been consulted but Alfred was sure the end results would be well worth it. And if not, it's not like the boy could fire him in revenge. Legal guardianship made that rather tricky.

~

Oliver heard someone stop in the hall outside his room. From where he sat on the floor organizing the old jazz records his mother had given him he couldn't see who it was, the bed was in the way and he didn't really want to move everything just to get up. That seemed like a lot of work. Whoever it was could just come in. Or talk. Whatever. He wasn't moving.

"Are you in here, Oliver?" he finally heard his mother ask, apparently having grown impatient.

"Yes."

"I signed you up for camp. You leave for New York in the morning. It comes very highly recommended, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Chef is making your favorite chicken parmesan as a treat for dinner at six. I will see you then." The sound of her heels were nearly silent as she made her way back down the hall with its plush carpeting.

Taking a minute to process this, Oliver stared at the short shelves in front of him momentarily. Well there went his record organizing, now he was going to have to try and pack.

~

Bruce narrowed his eyes as Alfred slowed to turn the car onto a narrow lane that was barely a break in the trees. A large, wooden arch above it was carved to proclaim it as the entrance to "Camp Open Woods." Somehow, Bruce managed to narrow his eyes even more. Though he suspected it made him look like he was squinting. Especially by the way Alfred pressed his lips into a tight line, an obvious tell that he was trying not to smile.

The lane curved gently through the trees until they opened up to show a field, teenagers and college students in soft blue polo shirts and khaki shorts were scattered throughout it, directing cars in where to park and kids and parents in where to go next. A girl with brightly colored beads on the ends of her tight braids waved at Bruce through the window as they passed. Tentatively, he waved back at the counselor.

Once they were parked, the sleek black sedan settling a little into the grass as they both got out, Bruce immediately slung his backpack on and beat Alfred to the trunk to pull out his bulky footlocker. "Master Bruce," Alfred chided gently, reaching in to help lift the heavy thing, "I do wish you'd let me do that."

"It's fine, Alfred," Bruce protested. Even if the help was appreciated. "Isn't the whole point of this to teach me to be self-sufficient?" Bruce tried to level his steeliest gaze on the man. The unimpressed look he got in return told Bruce he might need to work on that.

Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in the process -- and really Bruce didn't think his actions warranted that level of dramatics -- before leveling a flat look at Bruce. "No, Master Bruce. The point of this endeavor is that you enjoy yourself with peers of your own age. Possibly make friends. Build lifelong bonds. Get a nasty sunburn on the first day and minor bear scare on the last."

Bruce frowned and lifted one end of the battered footlocker Alfred had dislodged from the attic the week before. Possibly, it had been Alfred's and come from some hidden corner of the man's room as Bruce had never seen it before even in all his exploring of the manor's nooks and crannies. "Exiting pursued by a bear is not a worthy goal, Alfred," he said dryly.

Lifting the other end of the footlocker the duo began to make their way towards the counselors with carts lined up at the front of the field. "Maybe not for yourself, but personally an exciting and Shakespearean end would be the greatest achievement of my mundane existence."

He snorted, and Alfred wondered where his own penchant for melodrama came from.

"Hiya folks!" The young man next to a cart already loaded with duffels and trunks waved brightly as they approached. "Welcome to camp! Where are you staying?"

Bruce glanced to Alfred and Alfred returned the look, both challenging the other to speak first. If Bruce admitted that he had read and memorized the pre-camp welcome packet then Alfred would see it as a win. If Alfred's patience crumbled before Bruce's then it would vastly undermine the veneer of authority Alfred had managed to paint over their strange relationship. The poor guy standing by the cart was starting to look uncomfortable.

Finally, Bruce broke. He was going to be here for a month, it's not like he'd have to see Alfred be smug during that time. "Pine Ridge," he said flatly.

The counselor visibly sagged in relief. "Ok, great! You're going to toss your gear on that cart up there where Gambit's standing then follow the road to the Health Center to turn in your paperwork and get your head and foot check."

Wrinkling his nose, Bruce nodded. He wasn't really a fan of being touched, even for medical examinations, and was a little glad he got a heads up. He'd briefly forgotten about the fact the packet had said there would be a lice and athlete's foot examination. Not that Bruce had either, which is probably why he'd let it slip his mind. They reached the next cart and a young woman with large sunglasses leant against it. Bruce squinted at the lanyard she had around her neck with an odd badge on the end as a nametag, all the counselors had variations of brightly colored and often glitter coated badges on lanyards. Each as unique as the names on them. Hers had popsicle sticks layered to make a large X and playing cards glued on top so that their back's made a place to write. "Gambit" had been scrawled in looping white paint. With red glitter. Bruce really hoped they weren't going to force him to make a glitter nametag.

"Are you living in Pine Ridge?" She asked, pushing off the cart to stand and raising her clipboard.

"Yes," Bruce said simply.

Gambit nodded. "You can toss your stuff on. What's your name?"

"Bruce. Bruce Wayne."

"Ok, double-o-seven," she smirked, checking off something on her clipboard. "I'm Gambit, head girls counselor for Pine Ridge. But just cause I'm not the one doing bed checks on you doesn't mean I'm not still in charge," she teased. Bruce was fairly certain he heard Alfred snicker. "Anyway, you'll be seeing a lot of me over the next month even though we don't share a latrine. You a first time camper?"

"Yes."

"Well then, welcome Bruce, Bruce Wayne!"

Alfred definitely snickered at that.

"Um, thanks."

She grinned and stuck her pen back behind her ear. "I'll watch your stuff until the grounds guys come and hook the cart up to the ATV to take it up to the cabins. Lucky us, we're on the hill. Nice site, one of my personal favorites actually, but you'll be getting your steps in while you're here. Whole summer or no?"

"Um, just the month." Bruce was starting to get a little overwhelmed in the face of her relentless positivity.

"Rad. Well, I hope you enjoy it! You're gonna want to follow the gravel road trail and head to the health center. I'll see you at dinner."

Bruce nodded and began to walk on, Alfred a step behind him. Once they were out of earshot, Bruce hung back slightly so that they walked next to each other and turned to Alfred. "Do you think everyone's going to be like that?"

"Well Master Bruce, I don't think that children's summer camp counselor is a position that attracts introverts," Alfred replied dryly.

Bruce glared.

"Which isn't to say, however, that every person here would be so enthusiastic."

"Hmm." Bruce didn't say anything else and they made their way to the two-story farmhouse that had a sign hanging from the porch proclaiming it the "Health Center" in silence.

A large group of people were spread out in the grass in front of the porch around a series of low, backless wooden benches. Bruce slowed as they approached, lingering on the gravel. Alfred gripped his shoulder once before gently pushing Bruce forward to step into the grass. Alfred was still a head taller than him, but Bruce was catching up and he couldn't wait for the day he could glare at the man without craning his neck. Alfred looked the picture of cool indifference and collected innocence.

"Excuse me," Alfred called, striding forward and fully expecting Bruce to follow. Which he did, but in silent protest. "Is there a queue?"

"Not really," the teenaged boy Alfred had asked shrugged. "Just give your paperwork to nurse Doc, then pick a spot on a bench and we play monkey."

"Monkey?" Bruce tried to raise an incredulous eyebrow. It was a work in progress.

The older boy's face split into a wide grin. "Yeah! You know," and here he began to howl and jump, scratching at his head in imitation of a monkey.

"Ohmystars, Apollo you're ridiculous!" Another teenager said, her silver painted crescent moon nametag read "Artemis" and the two did look like they could be siblings if not twins. "Theater kids." She rolled her eyes derisively.

Apollo stopped abruptly. "Arty, you're a theater kid."

"Tech kid. There's a difference," she snapped with practiced ease.

"She is correct," Alfred added sagely. Bruce's forehead met his palm as he hung his head.

"Thank you!" Artemis preened. "C'mon, I'll take ya in to Doc." She gestured at them to follow as she turned and headed onto the porch. Having no real other option, Bruce glanced at Alfred before following. Artemis had waited for them, holding open the screen door before shouldering open the second door and leading them into a large room with worn wooden floors and a table with a trio of adults sitting behind it. Some other children and parents stood in front of them and spoke with the adults at the table. Artemis winked and wiggled her fingers in a wave before turning to head back outside. But she stopped short and came to stand next to them again. "Actually, they don't need me out there right now and I'd much rather soak up the AC with you."

Bruce nodded. It was cold in here, especially compared to the muggy afternoon it was shaping up to be. And those polo shirts didn't exactly look comfortable. Neither did the crisp button up and khakis Alfred wore, but Bruce could count on one hands the number of times he'd seen Alfred in shorts or a t-shirt. The group in front of them shifted and Artemis lead them to the table. The burly woman on the end glanced up at them and smiled. Unlike the counselors, her nametag was a pin though she, and the other two adults at the table, still wore the light blue polo shirt. And her nametag also had sequins spelling out "Doc."

"Hey there, you have your paperwork?" she said by way of greeting.

Alfred produced a carefully paperclipped stack from somewhere. Bruce honestly had no clue where. Sometimes Alfred liked to do things like that just to puzzle him. Often times. Bruce was certain he did it routinely just for fun and Bruce's annoyance.

Doc took the stack and looked it over before leaning over to file it in a plastic tub and marking this off on a couple different clipboards. "Alright," she said finally, "you're officially checked in, Mr. Wayne. You still need to be checked over before we can let you run wild. But you're checked in. Welcome to Camp." She smiled broadly and held out a hand, Bruce shook it and managed a small smile in return.

Artemis led them back outside and instructed Bruce to sit, take off his shoes and socks, and wait for Apollo cause she didn't "do feet." Alfred chuckled as Bruce sat, his nose wrinkled, and Artemis took gloved hands and a comb through his hair. Apollo eventually reappeared as she declared him lice free and he poked at and spread Bruce's toes before proclaiming him "good to go!"

As Bruce pulled his socks and sneakers back on --  Alfred refused to buy him hiking boots because they wouldn't be broken in in time and apparently if Bruce was going to be miserable it was going to be his own conscious choice and not due to poor footwear decisions -- Alfred chatted with Apollo about a production of Midsummer that the counselor had done in fall. Finally, Bruce was standing up and slipping his backpack on again.

"Well, I'll let you say bye to your dad and then we'll go find your group," Apollo grinned.

"He's not-" Bruce started but the older boy had already walked away and started talking to one of the other counselors. "Hmph."

Alfred raised a single eyebrow -- Bruce wished he'd just teach him how to do that already -- and gave him a sly smile. "Well Master Bruce."

"Alfred."

They both stood there staring at each other. Finally, Bruce caved and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Alfred. "Bye Alfred," he muttered.

Returning the hug, Alfred replied. "I shall be back at the end of the month. I do sincerely hope that you enjoy yourself, Master Bruce. And I expect letters at least once a week. You should have more than enough stamps for that and if not you have credit at the camp store."

Bruce snorted at that before pulling away. "Thanks, Alfred."

Alfred smiled. "Of course, Master Bruce."

Apollo reappeared then and led Bruce to the edge of the trees and a path there. Bruce looked back once to see Alfred still standing by the benches, waving. Bruce waved back before turning to walk into the woods.

~

Oliver tapped his fingers restlessly on the formica topped table. The other kids all seemed to know each other and once the counselor escorting them to the dining hall left they immediately headed off to meet their friends. Not that he minded, Oliver was used to being alone and could function on his own just fine thanks. But all of these kids would be living with him for the next month at the least. They could at the very least come over and ask him who he was. But apparently, Pine Ridge was the largest unit at camp and so his age group was the biggest if they were staying there. And already there were at least twenty other kids who were all preoccupied and not noticing the blonde kid with a bad haircut.

Tugging at his recently shorn hair, Oliver frowned. He'd been trying to grow it out and it was almost to his shoulders when this morning his mother took him to the barber before putting him on the plane and shipping him off. Supposedly, she thought he'd be too hot with all that hair. Oliver just thought it was a convenient excuse. Oliver respected the trick even if he didn't like it. Especially because he didn't like the end result. His ears were still slightly too big and the cut just emphasized that. No girl would want to go out with a guy with satellite dishes attached to his head. Not that any girl seemed to even want to talk to him right now. Not that anyone at all wanted to talk to him. Maybe if he'd stop glaring at the table? But Oliver didn't really want to be here to begin with.

One of the dinning hall doors opened again and Oliver turned to look. The dorky guy who'd walked Oliver over, and only a dork would name themselves Apollo, and a new kid stood next to him. All dark hair and pale skin that Oliver bet was going to be looking like a lobster by the end of the week. He lingered in the doorway as Apollo said something and turned to leave, scanning the space in front of him. One of the other counselors walked over to meet him, he'd said his name was Sherlock and he was the head boys and Oliver secretly respected him for having the guts to name himself after the world's greatest detective. Sherlock was obviously introducing himself to the boy and Oliver was trying to figure out why the kid looked so dang familiar as his gaze landed on Oliver. And stuck.

That's when it hit him. That kid was Bruce Wayne. His parents talked about him all the time. Mostly, wondering what he would do with Wayne Enterprises once he turned eighteen and could take over and what that would mean for Queen Industries' contracts. Oliver had ever only met the kid once. Right after his parents had died and the whole Queen family had flown out to Gotham to "express their condolences" at the Wayne Foundation's Annual Holiday Party. It wasn't until a couple years later that Oliver realized how awkward the whole thing had been. But that was definitely the same kid, older now but his eyes no less haunted. Oliver blinked and turned away. Bruce Wayne was one kid he'd be happy to leave him alone.

Oliver never did have good luck.

"Oliver Queen?" The kid had come up behind him and without asking, walked around to sit on the bench across from him.

"Yeah?" Oliver winced as his voice cracked at the end. Stupid fraggin luck what the frickety heck stupid stupid puberty.

"I remember you." The kid still hadn't taken off his backpack. They were inside and it's not like someone was gonna steal it. Oliver's own sat on the bench next to him and he barely had anything in it anyway.

"Yeah?" This time his voice didn't crack. Small victory.

"I'm Bruce Wayne."

"Yeah."

The kid's brow crumbled in annoyance and he frowned. "Do you ever say anything else."

Oliver gave his cheekiest grin, oh this was too good. There had never been a more perfect set up. "No."

Impossibly, the kid's look got darker.

Oliver sat and smiled back. The seconds stretch out and Oliver just knew they were each waiting for the other to crack. Bruce continued to glare. Oliver continued to smile.

Finally, his cheeks started to hurt and Oliver took the loss. He was kinda starting to feel like an idiot anyway. "So, this your first summer?"

Bruce relaxed his glare but he still frowned. "I'm just here for a month."

"Didn't answer the question, Brucie."

The frown deepened. "Yes."

Oliver nodded. "Mine too," he admitted. Bruce finally seemed to relax.

"I'm... not sure what we're supposed to do," Bruce admitted, though it looked like struggled to.

Oliver let some of his bravado fall. "Yeah, neither do I. I think we're supposed to have fun, whatever that means."

Bruce's mouth twitched in the direction of a smirk. Oliver took it as a small victory.

"Hi!" A high voice warbled behind Oliver and he turned in surprise.

"Zee?" Bruce sounded just as shocked, though he apparently knew the girl that had just yelled in Oliver's ear. She settled heavily on the bench next to him and Oliver turned to look at her. Long black hair pulled up in a ponytail, bright pink shirt and darker pink shorts, light-up sneakers. She looked younger than him too. Which was confirmed when Bruce said "Aren't you too young to be in this unit?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I turn eleven in July and I'm here for the summer so."

"That didn't answer the question," Bruce pointed out.

"And the unit is twelve to thirteen," Oliver added, finally recovering from his shock at her sudden appearance.

Pushing out her breath in annoyance, the girl flounced to her feet. "So, I may have heard that you were here and in the dinning hall and convinced my buddy to take a detour on the way to the latrine." She wiggled her arm in the direction of another girl shifting awkwardly by the side door. "We have to sit with our groups at dinner tonight but find me at breakfast tomorrow," she said it like an order and then ran off towards her friend and together they left.

"Alfred," Bruce muttered like a curse.

"Her name's Alfred?" Oliver felt like strange names were just a part of camp life but still.

"Her name's Zatanna." Oh, that was even weirder. "Alfred's my butler."

"Right," Oliver nodded like he understood. He absolutely did not. And Bruce did not seem like he would be explaining.

~

The counselors finally rounded them all up and made them stand in a wide circle, saying that they were going to count off and play get to know you games since one game of like forty people could be fun but maybe was a bit ambitious for first thing. Bruce told Oliver to stay where he stood before wiggling away further down the circle so that there was three people between them. Four groups of ten or so made logical sense and even if Bruce didn't know if he liked Oliver, he at least kind of knew Oliver and would prefer being in a group with at least one person he knew. So Oliver would have to be that person.

They both wound up being number three and Bruce leaned forward slightly to look at Oliver and smirk. The other boy just blinked back at him.

By the time dinner and the opening campfire rolled around, Bruce had come to the conclusion that Oliver wasn't his friend, but he was certainly one of the more tolerable of the other campers. As soon as he'd introduced himself as Bruce Wayne he'd been all anyone else could focus on. Even the kids not from Gotham looked at him with wide eyes. It made Bruce sympathize with the lions at the Gotham Zoo a whole lot more than usual. But Oliver acted like he didn't care. Oliver acted like he didn't care about anything. Just joking and smirking. He gained a gaggle of admirers over the course of the afternoon despite how downright obnoxious Bruce thought he was, but he still didn't seem to care that Bruce was Bruce and that's really all that mattered.

Besides, they apparently were in the same cabin. It just made sense that they hung out together. And if Oliver got sick of Bruce or Bruce got sick of Oliver well lots of kids wanted to ask Bruce all sorts of questions and everyone else seemed to love Oliver.

Even still, they sat next to each other at meals when Zatanna and an everchanging roster of her friends would flock to Bruce. Zee sitting herself down next to him and chattering on about what she'd done in the few hours they were apart. Oliver looked bewildered by the interaction every time. Bruce just nodded along at the appropriate points and asked questions as the fancy struck him. Sometimes he'd ask her stupid questions, like if she was sure the horse she rode that morning couldn't fly so that she would laugh and say she hasn't "learned levitation yet, you dingus!" Oliver's face when that would happen always made Bruce grin.

These meals were the bright spots in Bruce's day. He was... not having a good time. They'd had a swim test first thing Monday morning and Bruce had stupidly forgotten to put on sunscreen, so between swimming laps in the lake while the lifeguards made notes and sitting on the beach he'd very quickly burnt to a crisp. And would have to deal with that for the foreseeable future. Then on Thursday during their hike, Oliver had been behind him and tripped, stumbling into Bruce and pushing them both off the trail. Right into a patch of poison oak. So now Bruce had sunburn and poison oak. To say he was in constant pain was putting it mildly.

Bruce wasn't making friends. He wasn't enjoying the great outdoors. He was just slowly suffering in silence. Especially after Oliver left the screen door open one night and mosquitos had gotten in to use Bruce as their very own all you can eat buffet. So now Bruce was sunburnt, covered in mosquito bites, and still had poison oak.

Doc was really the only bright spot in this hellhole. Her air conditioned domain of the Health Center was quite and comforting. With individual exam rooms that meant Bruce could be completely alone for at least a little while. Which Bruce desperately needed. Being around people all the time was exhausting. And Doc herself had a wry, dry sense of humor that Bruce appreciated and a calm demeanor when Bruce sat and complained about the fact it was all Oliver's fault everything itched twice over. She would just snicker and have Bruce put some slightly odd smelling pink cream on his skin. Then she'd tell him that maybe he should write home about it. Bruce would frown and say "I will."

Alfred didn't seem to care though based on the letters back Bruce received. Or possibly the man was making fun of him. Most likely both. The end of the month really could not come soon enough.

~

Frankly, Oliver had no dang clue why Bruce flippin Wayne decided they were friends. Ok, "friends" was a stretch. But still, the kid spent more time with Oliver than anyone else at camp. Maybe he'd hang out with that Zee girl if she weren't in the younger group, and she did come have meals with them and wander over during all camps, but he didn't even really bother to even attempt to talk to anyone else. Oliver at least tried. If only because he was fairly certain he'd singlehandedly end the Wayne family line if he only talked to Bruce. Besides, the other boys in their cabin weren't terrible. Sure they were a little stuck up and that Brad guy had about the same amount of brain cells as Oliver's old hamster, but they weren't awful people. Which couldn't be said about all their fellow campers. Bruce had pushed one boy off the end of the dock the one morning after he said his third sexist remark in an hour. Oliver had gladly covered for him on that one. Another kid kept picking on two of the girls and Oliver might have possibly sort of filled his bag with rocks and as many spiders as he could find when he wasn't looking. He thinks Bruce saw him do it, but he never said anything once the kid got tired of carrying it and opened his backpack then immediately started screaming.

Neither incident had necessarily endeared Bruce to Oliver though. Especially since the kid had somehow managed to tip their canoe while they were in the middle of the lake. So they both floated there buoyed by their life vests spluttering water and trying to right the stupid canoe while screaming at each other and kicking madly. In the cold lake. They never did manage to flip the boat and the counselors had to come with the little motorboat to fish them out of the water. They were still glaring at each other after Sherlock had taken them to get showered and fresh clothes. He let Bruce mess around with his nametag as he ran their wet, smelly stuff into the Health Center and throw it in the washer that was supposedly there. Oliver was still pissed though so he ripped the plastic magnifying glass out of the other boy's hand. Sherlock's name was just a label stuck onto the handle so you could still use it. Which Oliver immediately did in an attempt to burn Bruce's shoelaces.

Which is about when Sherlock came back. "Hey! Oliver! Cut that out! Seriously dude, what're you doing? And Bruce, you were just gonna let him light your shoes on fire?"

Bruce shrugged. "I have other pairs. And I did dump him in the lake."

Oliver handed the nametag back and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, he's the one who thought he saw a frog and tipped the thing."

"A fish, not a frog."

"Whatever."

"And you gave me poison oak."

Oliver frowned and scratched at some of his own poison oak. "That was not intentional and I have it too."

Sherlock looked between them. "Right. You two are supposed to see Doc soon anyway, wanna go in now?" They both nod and that was the end of that. For then at least. That night Oliver got up to go use the latrine and forgot to close the screen door again. All five boys in the cabin wound up eaten alive and never mind the fact Oliver was just as itchy, Bruce acted as though he'd planned it just to mess with him.

Still didn't excuse the fact that the jerk got them lost and banned from the stables on the following Monday. Oliver liked the stables. He thought the horses were cool and they seemed to like him. He'd tried to schedule as much riding time as they'd let him after the initial group session. Bruce just so happened to have scheduled some on Monday morning too it would seem. And they both were the same ability level. Great. But they were doing a trail ride, going single file through the woods at the edge of camp, didn't leave a whole lot of room for talking and Oliver was more than ok with that. He wound up behind Bruce at the very back of the group and took it at a leisurely pace which Pancake didn't seem to mind. So long as Oliver stayed behind Bruce he just zoned out. Taking in the forest with its sounds and smells, the warm horse that swayed gently as she walked making him sway too. Oliver should've been paying more attention. Because Bruce decided to take his horse on a bit of an adventure. The two were wandering through the woods for an hour before Oliver realized that Bruce had hijacked a horse and gotten them lost. Another two before anyone found them. They'd completely missed lunch. And they were banned from horseback riding.

Not that Bruce cared, he was only here another two weeks.

Oliver had two whole months.

It's not like his father recognized he ever existed half the time, but his mom sending him off to the other side of the country was a bit much. He'd thought they had an understanding. Apparently not. And now he wouldn't even get to ride the horses.

Which Oliver naturally thought was overkill for himself but it was totally punishment for Pancake too. They had bonded. Not that the riding staff seemed to care when he tried to plead his case. Knox looked a little sympathetic at least. And she called after him when he'd turned to walk back over to Brad and maybe go play volleyball or something. "Oliver!" Knox said again and he paused. "I'll talk to Bambi and see about a probationary period or something. Maybe clean some stables or just make it a two week ban since you're here all summer. Kay?"

Oliver grinned. "Thanks." She returned the smile before turning to go back to mucking stalls and cleaning the tack.

~

Archery, Bruce decided, was the worst. It slapped his reddened and itchy skin even with the arm guard on. The smaller bows they had were too easy for him to pull and sent the arrows almost skittering at the target when he released. The bigger ones and the compound bows were too heavy a draw though and Bruce's twiggy thirteen year old arms just didn't have the strength. Oliver didn't seem to like it either. He seemed like the type of guy who had everything handed to him and most of the sports came naturally to him. Archery didn't. It clearly frustrated him that while he managed to hit the target he couldn't hit the center. Or even the yellow rings just outside it. He managed to pepper the blue ones every time. He could at least use the larger recurve bows at least. Which Bruce wouldn't admit to but was supremely jealous of.

"You just gotta practice, you'll get there!" Legolas reassured him. Bruce and Oliver both raised skeptical brows at that. Legolas had gotten his name because he was a crack shot. Hitting the bullseye just about every time. His encouragement wasn't as meaningful as he meant it. Especially when there was a rumor going around that the other counselors had dared him to shoot an arrow off of someone's head while blindfolded. And that he had managed it. "Though not today," he laughed after checking his watch, "we need to clean up for lunch."

The boys and other campers all turned their bows in and Legolas set them in the shed before returning and sending them to collect their arrows. By the time they were all cleaned up a couple other counselors had wandered out of the woods where they must've gone for a hike on their breaks and decided to head with them to lunch. A week and a half of camp had all the kids falling into a buddy line without even being told and Oliver fell in next to Bruce out of habit. Beaker made them do a headcount, checking each camper off on her list, and let Legolas lead them off toward the dining hall. He also started to lead them in some insipid song about a worm getting stuck in a straw. Legolas would shout a line and around Bruce all the other kids would eagerly shout it back. Even Oliver. Bruce would rather actually swallow a worm.

Inside the dining hall was the usual premeal chaos as counselors took their assigned tables and yelled across the room to each other. Kids swarmed around trying to find seats next to friends or at tables with specific counselors. Bruce scanned the space when a small arm covered in bright string bracelets -- and there hadn't been that many at breakfast, Bruce was certain -- shot up and waved towards him enthusiastically. "BRUCE!" Zatanna bellowed. He was fairly certain she'd pushed her magic into it because he could clearly hear it over everything else. That, or Zatanna was just disturbingly loud.

Bruce began walking to the table she was at and the two seats she appeared to be guarding with her life. Oliver followed and Bruce couldn't explain why. Well at least not beyond the fact that it was just what they did anymore.

"Hey kid," Oliver said by way of greeting. Zatanna preened and smiled. She was a ten-year-old queen and this table was her court. Just no one beyond the three of them knew that just yet.

"Hi Ollie. Oh! I want you guys to meet Hartley! He lives in the cabin two over from mine. He really likes music," Zatanna told them breathlessly, pointing at the small redhead next to her. Bruce and Oliver both sat down across from the two as more kids took the spots further down the table. Oliver waved at the boy while Bruce just nodded. "That's Oliver and that's Bruce, he's my best friend," Zatanna told Hartley and pointed at the two older boys.

Bruce frowned at Zatanna and was glad to see the boy looked skeptical when he glanced between Bruce and Zee. "Isn't he a little old to be your best friend?" he asked a little too loudly.

"Yes." Bruce said. "And we're not best friends."

Zee pouted. "Well until Oliver I was your only friend."

"We're not friends," Bruce and Oliver corrected her at the same time.

"Sure," she said with an eyeroll.

The poor boy she'd dragged into this looked so confused. "So, how old are you?" he finally dredged up the courage to ask.

"Thirteen," Oliver sounded smug. Bruce just nodded.

"Oh." Hartley seemed to shrink in on himself.

"How old are you?" Zee asked, genuinely curious.

"Eight." He was still a little too loud when he spoke, even though he seemed like he was shy.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. He'd been practicing and he knew it wasn't as smooth as Alfred's but Oliver provided infinite possibilities to practice and it was still leaps and bounds better than a week ago. "Aren't you in the nine to eleven group?" he asked Zatanna.

"Yeah," she frowned. "Hartley, how'd you wind up in my group?"

He shrugged. "I skipped a grade and my mom kinda bullied them into putting me in by grade instead of age."

Oliver seemed to hum in understanding. Bruce just felt himself frown. Zatanna met his eye with a slight frown of her own. The moment passed though when one of the counselors started the quiet clap and everyone shut up and turned to pay attention.

~

Oliver was officially tired of camp by the last week of June. A racoon had gotten into their cabin the day before and went though literally all of their things. It didn't eat or destroy anything though, just wanted to make chaos by rubbing its tiny hands on everything apparently. Sherlock had to make another laundry run for them. Gambit had heard about it over the radio and claimed a golf cart just so she could come laugh at the mess before they managed to clean too much of it up, having been off on her break at the time. She left the cart for Sherlock before heading to her own cabin for the rest of her break, laughing the whole way. The other counselors in the unit made a fire for the boys while everyone else got ready for bed and they waited for their sheets and sleeping bags to be washed.

Unfortunately, Oliver had a whole two more months to go. He was officially less than pleased with his mother for this grand idea.

Luckily, Knox found him before the Final Campfire for those who were only there for the month. Taking long strides up the wide stone steps of the amphitheater to where he sat next to Bruce. Zatanna and her little friend Hartley on Bruce's other side. They all watched as the barn staffer made her way towards them, standing out in her jeans and tall muck boots while everyone else was wearing shorts. "Hey, Ollie!" she called as she approached, obviously not realizing that she already had everyone's full attention. "I just got back from the barn and I wanted to be the first to tell you that your ban has been lifted! You're allowed to come back starting Monday, since Bruce is leaving." Here she grimaced over at Bruce. "Sorry, but Bambi kind of decided you were the responsible party and Ollie just collateral damage. Very foolish collateral damage." She didn't bother to apologize for that one though as she turned to look back to him. "So Pancake will see you Monday? She's missed you."

Oliver nodded eagerly. "Yes. Absolutely. I'll talk to Sherlock about changing my schedule right after the campfire."

Knox nodded. "Sweet. Ok, I need to hit the showers. Bye all! I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow!"

They all said their goodbyes and Oliver couldn't stop smiling. Camp still sucked and the one person who made it interesting at least was leaving tomorrow, but at least Oliver's ban had been lifted. He could spend the rest of summer riding horses.

~

Bruce thought that he'd never been happier to see Alfred in his life. The man stood on the porch of the Health Center, talking with Doc when Artemis came to collect him from the dining hall where he'd been sitting on the steps, avoiding singing camp songs. The irony of Apollo taking him to the dining hall at the beginning of the month and Artemis leading him from it at the end was not lost on Bruce. Nor was it lost on Alfred by the sly grin he had when he saw who walked with Bruce. "Have a safe trip home!" Artemis said brightly before heading to Bugs, the camp director, and getting the name of the next camper she was to fetch.

"Well Bruce, I'm sorry that the circumstances weren't better but I'm glad I got to know you," she said and held out a hand that Bruce shook. "Maybe I'll see you next year? And if not, keep in touch. Mr. Pennyworth has my mailing address, maybe you can write me some of your famous letters."

Bruce smirked. "I will."

Doc laughed and the corners of Alfred's mouth twitched. "Shall we, Master Wayne?" he asked. "Your footlocker has already been loaded and you have officially been checked out."

Nodding, Bruce eagerly turned to go search the field for the car. He thought to look back once and wave to Doc, but then he was off and moving. He closed the door hard after he climbed in. Alfred started the car but didn't shift into gear. They just sat there in silence as the vents slowly began to push out cold air.

Finally, Alfred asked what he wanted to. "How was camp?"

"Never again, Alfred. Never. Again."

"That bad?"

"Didn't you get my letters?"

Alfred finally pulled out of the field and started down the long drive towards the road. "I did. I had just assumed that you were exaggerating as is your penchant."

Bruce glared at him. "You were talking to Doc."

"And I realized that you were not exaggerating."

"Never. Again."

"Yes, Master Bruce."

[mcheang]

Let it go

Marinette has had enough of Ms Bustier’s better example, of Adrien’s high road, and everyone else’s nonsense. She had been pushed to the breaking point and had snapped. It pretty much happened when planning for a skip trip, Lila had suggested a resort recommended to her by a famous skier she knows, and Chloe had insisted that they go someplace high class. Marinette is frustrated because it would mean the large pile of paperwork she had recently completed would be for nothing and too much fundraisers (that Chloe would not even help out with) just to meet the drama queen’s standards.

Marinette stands up to Lila, calling her out for her lies. She also protests when Ms Bustier does nothing regarding Chloe’s lack of effort in school work. This results in her classmates shunning her and replacing her with Lila as class president, though Adrien still tries to be her Friend even if Marinette refuses to listen to his advice.

“A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I’m the Queen.

Despite what Marinette has done for the class, despite how she thought they were friends, they had completely abandoned her and refused to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Be the good girl you always have to be.”

Well, now that she was no longer class president, now that she had no more friends, Marinette no longer had to please others for their sake. Especially since they weren’t really her friends if they just turned on her like that.

“It’s funny how some distance makes everything seem small.”

Without friends and class rep duties, Marinette has more time to truly let her creativity flow and soon her business begins to boom, especially once Jagged hears about it.

Soon even Ladybug is seen wearing her accessories in winter.

“It’s time to see what I can do, to test my limits and break through.”

Meanwhile, Lila dumped her responsibilities on Alya, who is super stressed that by the time they manage to get enough money, the ski resort Lila recommended is already fully booked. They end up having to go a normal ski resort. The mayor had only donated enough money so that his Daughter could be treated like a princess.

While the class goes on their field trip, Adrien is not allowed to attend and Marinette goes on a joint tour with Jagged and Clara as their stylist. Along the way, her fame grows and she even attends celebrity shows and galas.

When Adrien mopes about missing all the fun, Nathalie informs him it was a good thing he didn’t attend because the ski resort his class has settled in is currently in a snowstorm. By the time the storm would be over, the resort would be buried. Between all that and the time it would take to shovel out of the resort, the class won’t get to ski at all and only Chloe is able to take full advantage of the indoor facilities.

Adrien: yikes!

At the end of the ski trip, Marinette returns to Paris too, and is interviewed by Nadja because she is now a well-known designer. Marinette admits she has more free time now ever since Lila became the class president. Marinette mentions that Lila claims to have saved Jagged’s kitten, is friends with Ali and is even Ladybug’s BFF. But Marinette doesn’t know whether that could be true or not. The interview moves on, but Nadja is interrupted by a FaceTime from Jagged claiming he has never owned a kitten and that his beloved Niece should take what that boastful liar said with a lot of salt.

The next morning, Prince Ali’s manager makes a public statement denouncing Lila’s claim.

When class begins, Ms Bustier is noticeably stressed because for some reason, the school board had been conducting inspections and found her inefficient and incompetent. (They did so on Ladybug’s expressed concern of the akuma class.) the final nail was the disastrous field trip because she didn’t help Alya plan. Ms Bustier is currently on probation and thin ice.

The classmates gang up on Lila for her lies and because they were feeling sullen about the lousy ski trip, what a waste of time! Ms Bustier tries to stop them but is uncertain what is the right course of action.

To be honest, Lila was going to skip school as soon she saw Jagged exposing her on the news. But Marinette’s interview had sparked unwanted interest in Lila and Mrs Rossi had been notified of it. The principal and school board actually called her hotline to check on Lila’s disabilities and, in the process, her truancy is exposed. Lila is forced to attend the rest of the school year and will be repeating the grade. She is also given detention until the end of the year.

“Here I stand in the light of day!”

The class tirade is interrupted when Marinette herself struts in, dazzling in a new outfit of her own design. She pauses, takes in the scene. The classroom is in chaos. Rose is crying. Alya’s face is blotchy with rage. Adrien is failing to keep the peace. Chloe is absent for some reason (ahem she’s suspended for bullying. She got the news on the ski trip and had sulked in silence in the sauna) Lila is cowering against an angry mob. Ms Bustier looks near tears and her hair is a mess.

As one, the class takes in Marinette. Cool and regal as an ice queen as she stares at them, unaffected. They all know she had a glorious tour with celebrities, that she had finally made it big.

Then with a toss of her hair, Marinette heads out the door with a “I’m going to get help” to her once favourite teacher.

The door slams behind her.

“The cold never bothered me anyway.”

The class realizes their mistake. They had been manipulated and pushed away a good Friend. Now Marinette was on top of the world, and had left them behind for good.

For the record, after the next akuma fight, Nadja manages to interview Ladybug about Lila, and Ladybug shrugs that she already told Lila to knock it off. Honestly she was disappointed that the Ladyblogger believed what some random stranger said about her.

The class tries to get Adrien to convince Marinette to forgive them since he is the only one who is still her Friend. They had tried to talk to her at first but felt intimidated and guilt-ridden. Adrien does make an effort to mend the bridge but Marinette firmly stops him because now she feels free and she has decided to let her so-called friends go for good. If they want to mend the bridge, they need to prove themselves and face her themselves, not send Adrien like a messenger boy and hope to forget all the old grievances. Marinette is done being the perfect girl (aka doormat.)

As Marinette thrives and makes new friends, Aurore replacing Alya as her BFF and the new fox miraculous wielder, the class truly feel the loss without Marinette. They find school life harder. Alya’s field trips weren’t as impressive (she became class president and made Sabrina her deputy), no more free pastries to brighten their morning, no free help in designing costumes and banners. Ms Bustier wasn’t a big help either. She had become such a wreck that she was soon replaced with a stern substitute.

Adrien remained a passive middle ground. He was still friends with everybody but he missed the old times when everyone was happier. The class weren’t happy he had let Lila manipulate them but didn’t want to ostracise another innocent Friend. He has decided not to push Marinette to forgive the class. It just isn’t in his nature to push, if it was, he would have taken a firmer stance against Chloe’s meanness and Lila’s deceit.

❄️ ⛄️ ❄️ ⛄️ ❄️ ⛄️ ❄️ ⛄️ ❄️ ⛄️ ❄️ ⛄️ ❄️

[hphmmatthewluther]

HPHM April Prompts 2021: Day 4: A Potion To Remember

@stupendousbookworm​ ‘s #aprilprompts2021 heats up today, as Matthew and Merula work together to brew a Love Potion. I decided to make this a part 2 of yesterday’s prompt, and while it isn’t needed to enjoy this, it will explain some things that are mentioned. Either way, enjoy!

Prompt # 5 - Uh oh, it's potions class with Professor Snape! Oh, but what's that? MC is paired with (Love Interest) to make Amortentia! What will MC smell like, and what will MC smell?

“Matt, are you feeling alright?” Rowan asked as the Ravenclaws trotted down to the Dungeons.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, absolutely. Why do you ask?” he said, playing with his silver bracelet.

“You just seem a little...distracted by something.” Rowan explained, “You spent most of Charms looking out the window.”

“Did I?” Matthew said absentmindedly. “Oh, well, um...” he wasn’t exactly sure how he could articulate the events of that morning.

“I’m just saying, whatever happy mood you’re in Snape’s bound to crush it. Besides, didn’t you ‘schedule’ an argument with Merula this lesson?”

Matthew looked confused for a moment. “Why would that be a b-” he began, before stopping himself. That was close. Just a few hours earlier, Matthew and Merula had agreed to no longer be enemies, but that wasn’t something that just  disappeared in the eyes of Hogwarts, especially as neither had told anyone about this.

“It’s just…” Matthew continued, “Well, I found out the school is planning something. But I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about it.”

“Then it is for the best that you do not talk at all, Mr Luther.” came a cold voice from behind them, causing them both to jump. “You would surely do us all a favour.”

Matthew quickly tried to regain his composure as Professor Snape emerged from the shadows, moving towards the classroom. The two Ravenclaws began moving at a brisk pace to get there before him, having made the mistake of letting him in first once before. They got into the classroom and turned to see Snape slam the door shut, leaving anyone behind them out in the cold.

“Get to your seats.” he ordered. They obeyed quickly, moving to their table. Merula was already there. She had the tiniest smile on her face.

“You cut it close there.” she said, getting out her notebook. Matthew nodded, sitting down in his usual place. He sighed, trying to marshal his thoughts for the lesson ahead. He found himself unable to look to the girl on his left without blushing, and so focused on pulling out his cauldron. There was so much he wanted to talk to Merula about, but he was terrified. He knew that he couldn’t do it here, with other people watching. Perhaps the best thing to do was push any and all of those thoughts out of his head until later. Yes, that would work. After all, this was a Potions lesson with Snape: was there anything less romantic? I don’t know, a poltergeist spraying stinksap everywhere? Said a voice in Matthew’s head. He elected to ignore the voice. He could do this, right?

Snape finally relented and let the late students into the class, mainly because so many of the Slytherins were still in the hospital wing thanks to Peeves.

“Since there are so few of you, you will be working in pairs for today. You will be brewing Amortentia.”

Oh you are kidding me. Matthew cursed under his breath. Why did Snape have the innate ability to know the last thing he wanted in every situation. There was a slight sir among everyone else, too. Merula’s cheeks went slightly pink. Barnaby looked around, confused.

Snape suddenly looked extremely stern. “Amortentia, also known as a Love Potion (“Oh!” said Barnaby) , is one of the most dangerous potions ever concocted, and anyone found to be using it outside of this classroom by me will be expelled. Do I make myself clear?” There was a series of nods. This was one of the few things Matthew and Snape agreed on. A potion that messed with free will shouldn’t even be sold, as far as Matthew was concerned. If anything, he was glad Preston and his lot weren’t here to learn it. Still, at least he and Rowan could work on it by themselves.

“Khanna, you will assist Mr Lee today.” Snape said, “I do believe he will need someone who knows what he is doing.” Matthew’s eyes widened. He could already see exactly where this was going.

“Which leaves Mr Luther and Miss Snyde. Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work!”

“Well...” said Merula, clearly sharing in the awkwardness of the situation. “Wh-Why don’t you go and get the ingredients, Luther, and I...I’ll get the cauldron ready.” Matthew nodded and headed off to find the right ingredients. This was too much. Even his mind couldn’t cope with everything lining up like this. He picked up the Ashwinder eggs, and moved to collect some Pearls to crush before being stopped by Snape.

“You’re being awfully quiet, Luther,  for such a vocal critic of the Love Potion.” he sneered.

“Well...it’s been a tiring day, Professor.” Matthew explained, “You know, what with Peeves and everything.” He tried desperately to hide his disdain. Why was he doing this, especially when he knew there was a dance coming up?  Snape looked at him. “It is a pity that these things must be done, but in my experience it is better that students know how to brew safe Love Potions rather than risking it, or buying from untrustworthy sources. I would not be surprised if there is an epidemic of Love Potion usage in the coming months.”

Matthew nodded, a frown on his face. As always, Snape had an extremely pessimistic view of Hogwarts students. They could see how stupid Love Potions were, he was sure of that. Matthew grabbed the Peppermint and Moonstone and headed back to Merula. Everyone else was fully concentrated on their Amortentia. This is an opportunity… said that voice in his head again. Matthew disregarded it.

“Okay, stir seven times clockwise...” Merula whispered, as Matthew added in the crushed pearls. The room was strangely quiet, with everyone concentrating intensely on the incredibly complicated potion, or in Matthew’s case ignoring any intruding thoughts.

“I don’t think we’ll ever get the chance to have that argument.” Matthew observed, causing Merula to chuckle.

“I think you’re right there...” she said quietly, peering at the instructions, “Right, we’re almost there, put in the rose parts.”

Matthew obeyed, placing in the thorns and petals. Matthew made sure to do it in one movement, but had to maneuver around Merula to do it. 

“Hang on-” Matthew said, trying to keep still. “Oh, here, let me-” He brought his arm up, but she moved at the same time, which ended up moving them next to each other. 

“Yeah, um...okay..” Merula said airily. Matthew quickly finished adding in the rose petals, but one ended up falling on Merula’s hand. She quickly pushed it into the potion, which turned a pearly white. Matthew and Merula, meanwhile, had gone bright red as a spiral of steam emerged from the mixture.

“Um...well, looks like we, um...we did it.” Matthew stammered, moving away from Merula and taking a breath. “Now for this smell test.”

Merula went first, and Matthew grabbed the sheet Snape had given them to record their results. She leant over the potion and took a deep breath, her nose wrinkling. Matthew brought the piece of paper onto his lap.

“W-Well?” he asked, staring at the glowing mixture. Merula cleared her throat.

“Um...it’s a breeze. A sea breeze.” she said, taking another smell, “And...the woods, too? And...I think...apples. Yeah, definitely apples.” she sat back down, looking strangely nervous.

Matthew nodded, writing what she said down. He tried to ignore memories of his hometown, with its vast expanse of trees and a beach just outside his doorstep. He also blocked out the type of shampoo he used, and the fruit he had for lunch every day. “Right, my turn then.” He stepped forward over the mixture and leaned in. He looked at the potion, and felt the steam touch his face, before taking a sniff. Well, that’s that.

“So?” she said impatiently, “What’s yours?”

He looked up at her. “It’s like...Christmas...you know, ginger and cloves and cinnamon...” he noted, “Then there’s something I just can’t recognise...and then there’s...umm…nail polish.” he said, the last two words spoken extremely quickly.

“Sorry, what was that?” Merula asked, a smirk on her face.

“N-Nail polish.” he said, eyeing her nervously. Maybe it was the steam from the Amortentia slightly obscuring his vision, but through it, as Merula noted down their findings, she looked...well, she looked absolutely mesmerising. Matthew forced himself away from the smoke, shaking his head. Then he looked at her again, and was horrified to discover that she was still absolutely stunning.

“Alright, you might as well tell me how you did it, Luther.” Merula said suddenly. Matthew looked at her. His brain’s normal methods of dealing with problems weren’t working, and was beginning to give way to impulse.

“S-Sorry, what?” he said, sitting back down and copying the notes onto his paper.

“How you made the Love Potion smell like you, you dolt!” she hissed. Matthew’s jaw dropped.

“Firstly, how dare you I would never, Secondly, we worked together on it, you would have noticed, and thirdly, how do you know what I smell like?”

Merula stared at him for a moment. “I...well, I...I thought it smelled like you, okay?” she whispered, “When we went into the Forest on my broom, I guess I...look, it doesn’t matter!” she declared.

“Mm, I don’t know...” said Matthew, adding the final few sentences to his notes, “We did schedule an argument for today, did we not?”

Merula laughed at that. “Guess so. Still, at least we held off until we finished the potion.”

“Yeah, that’s progress at least.” Matthew admitted, allowing himself to smile. “Merula...I never thanked you.”

“For what?”

“For that apple. I’d skipped breakfast to get on a train to go into London without my Dad noticing. I was starving by the time I found my way to the Ministry, and lost, and afraid. And then, I saw you and...your mother...and you helped me. You didn’t need to, but you helped me.”

“Yeah...I guess I did, huh. Look, Matthew, today has been one hell of a ride, huh?” she said, leaning back on her stool.

“Merula, it’s not even lunchtime.” Matthew reminded her, pushing the hair out of his face. Merula almost fell off her seat.

“Merlin’s pants...what even...” she stammered, before bursting into quiet laughter. Matthew found himself laughing too, wiping his eyes. He could admit it to herself now. Merula Snyde has an adorable laugh. Heck, Merula Snyde is just adorable.

“Having fun, are we?”

Professor Snape was leering over them. “Well, it appears you have made an above-par potion. It appears that while Mr Luther cannot follow school rules, he can at least obey potions instructions.”

He stared for a moment, before stepping away, gliding over to Rowan and Barnaby’s cauldron.

“And the winner for ‘Most Backhanded Compliment’ goes to...” Matthew muttered.

“I mean, he’s not wrong...” said Merula, putting her notes away. “Do you think this is because of...”  she scribbled ‘C-E-L-E-S-T-I-A-L B-A-L-L’ on her note book. Matthew shrugged.

“Probably. He said he thinks there’ll be a load of people using Love Potions soon.” Matthew explained.

Merula sighed. “Ah, well. At least I don’t have to worry about you using one.”

“And I hope I don’t need to worry about you.” he said in a mock-posh voice.

“Oh, you absolutely don’t, good sir.”

“Why thank you, madam-”

“You are dismissed!” said Snape finally, “Those who were not here will have to catch up over the weekend. Your homework is a scroll of parchment on whether or not the Love Potion should be made illegal, due next lesson.”

Before the lesson, Matthew would have said ‘Of course’ in response to that question, but after having brewed one, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the fact that it was one of the best Potions lessons he had had, bar perhaps the one where he stuck a toad in his mouth to hide that Animagus leaf. Though, maybe he just enjoyed making a potion with someone else. As he left the potions classroom, Rowan caught up to him.

“I guess you survived working with Merula.” they laughed, as they walked up the stairs.

“Yeah, I guess I did…” Matthew sighed, as they moved towards the Great Hall. What Matthew did next was perhaps a little selfish. He still felt the need to be closer to Merula, and had both a fear and desire of asking Merula to this Celestial Ball, and it felt like he couldn’t tell anyone about it. Perhaps that was why he gathered his friends as they got ready to have lunch. “Listen,” said Matthew as they approached Ravenclaw table. “You’ll never guess what McGonagall told me...”

It took exactly two minutes and six seconds for the whole school to find out.